s t a r m | s t December 31st, 2004
Everytime I see something that reminds me of that, everytime I go there and there, everytime when I feel I’m strong enough to handle, every once in a while when I dream…
It brings back fresh pain. It hurts and cripples me just like before.
So my mind close up and block things out, and the cycle continues. It isn’t a good way to deal, I know, but I can’t help it. It really hurts.
s t a r m | s t December 30th, 2004
I’m back after a 6 day hiatus (my router happily decided to block my laptop from going online).
I cleared out a third of my closet.
Not because the New year is coming and I’m doing the ‘throw away old things and welcome new things’ routine. Not because I finally gotten down to tidying my room. And not because my clothes can’t fit me anymore.
It was to help the Tsunami victims.
I know some people may tire of reading yet another blog post (or getting those emails) about the recent Tsunami wave so I won’t write about how tragic things are, nor will I comment about the political issues that come with this disaster.
Because I can never understand the pain the people who were affected went through in this period of time; their fear, their sense of helplessness, their loss. And politics? No, no.
Instead, I appeal to you readers to contribute in whatever small ways you can to help the victims of the Tsunami wave. Volunteers are needed to pack supplies, although clothes are not needed anymore, medical supplies are still being asked for, and Singapore Red Cross appealed for more cash than kind.
The next time you feel like splurging on a new top or a pair of shoes, do think of the victims. The next time you want to impress your date with an expensive dinner, think of them. The next time you want purchase a new handphone or the latest gadgets, think of them. It doesn’t take much, really, even a dollar counts.
So please do help. Make a difference.
s t a r m | s t December 25th, 2004
Oh wow!
“I’m damn smart,” he said some time back, so matter-of-factly and not with a trace of arrogance that it became a, a thing between us.
And now I gotta say this. He’s damn smart.
I’m so proud of you, you have no idea how much. At times, I look at you and think to myself - I’m proud of you. I’m honoured to be the one being with you. There is so much of you that people see, yet so much still remain hidden in their depths, and unappreciated. Despite your flaws, your weaknesses, and some sides of you which I didn’t really have to see, I’m proud of you nonetheless.
Your hard work paid off. Congratulations, and sorry there wasn’t any celebrations of sorts. =(
s t a r m | s t December 23rd, 2004
This is madness. Not only am I still up and wide awake at this unearthly hour, but I’m also feeling extremely hyper (Feel like jumping around ala Dom).
Just sent my sister off to the airport - she’s on the way to C.A.N.A.D.A for three weeks, that lucky (and filthy-rich) girl! So while she’s happily traipsing around Vancouver in her winter clothes and meeting cute Canadian guys, I will be languishing and melting in Singapore’s heat and errr.. not meeting any cute Canadian hunks.
The trip to the airport and back reminded me of Melbourne in many ways. The night air, the quietness of the surroundings, the cold night winds that blew, the ‘being able to walk around and not perspire’ feeling, the waiting-to-check-in queue, and simply just that Melbourne feeling. Gosh, I miss Down Under so much, so so much. I miss the weather. I miss the ever-so-friendly people. I miss the ridiculously big portions of food. I miss the tram rides. I miss St. Kilda. I miss the walks back to Paramount. I miss the grocery shopping at Victoria Market. I miss the night walks around the city, soaking in the atmosphere. I miss the scandalous ‘Jerry Springer Show’. I miss waking up to Sweet Valley High and then ambling to school five minutes before classes commence. I miss my roomies. I miss returning to the apartment to ‘Simpsons’. I miss the cold. I miss the famous gelato. I miss chilling at the apartment with Ms Ho (butterscotch schnapps!). I miss the late night chats with Molly Chan. I miss everything in Melbourne. I miss it, I really do.
Oh well. Merry Christmas to everyone who reads this blog! Have a wonderful and magical holiday~
s t a r m | s t December 19th, 2004
Sometimes life, or rather the fragility of it, upends and strikes you hard in the face.
Or maybe I should say, the fragility of human beings, not life.
A moment of shock. Then you get worried. Disbelieving. Panicky. And very, very scared. And then infinite thoughts rush into your mind - What what what is this I am seeing Is this for real What should I do now Should I get help Should I call someone I don’t know what to do I feel helpless Don’t cry now It is not the time Call someone now Now NOW Run and get help Are you breathing Did you take those pills Did you take too much The bottle is way too empty Are you alright are you are you Are those shallow breaths Why did you do that Why why why Breath breath properly deeply Don’t leave don’t go don’t go don’t go There are so many things yet undone Please don’t do this Please stay.
A tenuous thread separates life and death.
s t a r m | s t December 19th, 2004
The bright and cheery smiles family members greeted me with even though they have only seen me for the first time today, the friendly and helpful programme coordinator, the camaraderie among different families, the new volunteer who helped brief me about my role, the other half who made himself available should there be any problems, the shy secondary school boy who came alone, how he relaxed and opened up to me, the laughter that surrounded the alley, the ones who asked me if I’m volunteering for their next activity, the two little girls who were fascinated with my purple hair, how they tried to chat with me at every chance they could, how they teased and joked with me, the mother who happily rattled on in mandarin to me, the jolly father who joined in the game and fun, the teary little boy who seeked me out every time it was his turn to play, the sweet girl who cuddled up with me, the ones who earnestly tried to learn, the mother who made the effort to know my name, the cute young boy who used two hands to throw the ball, the cherubic smiley angel who rolled the too-heavy-for-him-to-carry ball into the longkang every time and then giggled and danced about, the screams that was heard every time someone hit a strike or a spare, the cheers and encouragement the volunteers gave, the kids’ happiness when they won lucky draw prizes, the wide smiles on the kids’ faces.
The children of Children Cancer Foundation
Doing this, it took away my fears, worries and frustrations in other aspects of my life… For a while, but nonetheless, for a while.
s t a r m | s t December 16th, 2004
I need my space.
I can’t be there for everyone all the time. I really want to, but I can’t.
Beebs is right.
If I can’t save myself, how can I save others?
s t a r m | s t December 11th, 2004
Musical cum Christmas Song Signing
Library @ esplanade
18 December 2004, Saturday.
Time: 4pm - 5pm
Alas! There is no collaboration between Starbucks and SADeaf to hold Christmas carolling this year. However, Xtomic has been invited by the National Library Board to perform a 1 hr musical - drama with song signing Christmas carols to promote Deaf Awareness to the public. If you happen to be free and are interested in this event, do come down, lend us your support and share the Christmas cheer with each and everyone of us!
s t a r m | s t December 10th, 2004
My precious bottle of Butterscotch Schnapps broke!
Now my entire room smells like Butterscotch.
And the remaining saved Butterscotch Schnapps sits quietly in a small Nutella Hazelnut Spread glass jar.
s t a r m | s t December 9th, 2004
Isn’t it strange how the past always manage to find a way back to the present?
So I dutifully went for my second interview at the same company after making it through the director’s evaluation the first time round. Things went pretty alright, with the interviewers providing me more information as to what the job scope encompasses (thought I doubt it would be rewarding to me in the long run) and, at the same time, still evaluating my attitude and character. Ten new recruits were needed to form two teams of five for a long-term business development plan, and I was one of the twenty people who were shortlisted.
I stepped out of the interview room 45 minutes later, silently congratulating myself on not majorly screwing up the interview in any way.
And there she was. Miss Irritant. My nemesis. The bane of my existence. The foe (woe, rather?) of my life. The one who lived vicariously through me four years back. The adversary who reveled in antagonizing me every moment she could. The gossip-monger who loved to used me as a topic of conversation to everyone, anyone. The two-headed snake who pretended to be a friend, and then turned around and stabbed me in the back.
She was the next interviewee, probably someone who will be my teammate for the next few years (should we both end up passing the interviews). Probably someone whom I have to work closely with to implement business plans.
Oh, horrors of horrors! What terrible luck!
I paused in my strides and stared at her with an extremely horrified look on my face. She rose from her seat, slack-jawed and gaping at the sight of me. And we stood there, gunslinger style, for what seemed like an eternity. And then I left, on wobbly legs.
And all my mind could think of for the next 15 minutes was ‘No, no, not you again’.
