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Wednesday, October 22, 2003 ( 10/22/2003 08:37:00 AM ) elle's a tap dance, please. a neu brand of insanity Saturday, October 18, 2003 ( 10/18/2003 09:54:00 AM ) elle's shifted, because i got struck on the head by lightning. ask, or dont ask, as i know alot of people will, judging by how even though i can only recall giving this url to a handful of people, i still get all sorts of people telling me what they read on my blog. disturbing, but doesnt really bother me. just for the record, im not shifting to avoid anyone. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/18/2003 09:35:00 AM ) elle's he bought a new pack today, held them up one by one to me at the cafe like a magic trick. i've forgotten what half of them mean, but there was a day when i could tell just by the suggestion or by the pictures. and i have the itch to take out my own and go over them one by one, i can almost feel them under lock and key. i dont know whether to yell at you for reminding me or not. i would like to be able to sing in the tone of a violin. that skippish lament. i like sad music, and tragic dances. my computer's going crazy, and i wish i knew what to do. i watch the antivirus screens popping up telling me that my computer is trying to send an email, i feel like pulling the plug on the thing and running for help. im just purely jealous, and fundamentally judgemental. tell me what to do about this, please. i dont even recognize it in myself. things are hard to tear apart. i feel like i've been drowning lately, but this is as good as it gets. coz this blanketing listlessness only goes away when im feeling secure, which is like, what, exactly? certainly not independent. i want to learn to flip. the skin was stiched together, she looked like she'd been crying blood. i stood in line waiting for my pass, thinking about how many times i've just walked in, took the lift to the respective wards, and not dared to go in. once i lingered by the coffee machines for four hours while they said their take-cares and get-well-soons. i've never known what to say, or how to care. a neu brand of insanity Friday, October 17, 2003 ( 10/17/2003 08:42:00 AM ) elle's you're only honest when its good-lookin, and that's not really enough for me. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/17/2003 02:50:00 AM ) elle's things i would bring with me if i ran away from home -money -phone -baggy jeans and a sweater (worn) -picture of my family that stands on my cabinet. the one where i look so indignant and sorry at having my picture taken, at what, six years old? while my father holds my hand and my siblings grin from the background, looking their exact ages. -the blue cross -my bike -a lighter -water bottle -all the food i can carry that's you, really, all over the page. just like how the idea is charming, but the style is all wrong. i dont want to sound like that. like an english essay, with perfect tenses. i refuse to surrender to being corny, even though i know it'll unwittingly happen even in my classic defiance. there are too many people in this world. i want to rewind to monday when we had our lit exam, and redo my poetry piece. because I Am doesnt evoke any emotion in me at all. but Sorrow does. Sorrow really really does. ma goes for her operation tomorrow, acting as if life goes on, but playing Christian songs with lyrics that go He will heal my disease all day long. i hear her sing along late at night, in a voice cracked and quivering, but ten times stronger than mine. training tomorrow promises to be hell. a neu brand of insanity Thursday, October 16, 2003 ( 10/16/2003 07:28:00 AM ) elle's the difference between you and me is how often we're looking up to check out what's going on with the rest of the world. read this any way you want, because it doesnt make a difference to me. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/16/2003 06:58:00 AM ) elle's if i had a car, i might drive  You are Lime. You are quirky and misunderstood. You are definitely your own person. You don't let anyone tell you who you should be. You never sell out your values and beliefs, no matter what. However, you can sometimes have trouble fitting in, but only because you are misunderstood. Most Compatible With: Wintergreen Which Tic-Tac Flavor Are You? brought to you by Quizilla misunderstood is pushing it, isnt it? coz what is there to understand, really, about any one at all, at the end of the day? i think i sold myself onto commas. and im craving baker's inn, and ice cream :) i'll worry about becoming fatter than fat some time else. i would like to talk with my most sincere enemies, someday, and try to get a clue as to why i am screwed up (as most people are, really). maybe if we could leave our stereotypes and preconceived notions at the door, we might actually get somewhere. coz who else would tell you the honest-most truth about yourself really, your friends? yesterdays crepe $ 3.00 giordano $14.00 s&k $24.00 mos $12.10 sentosa $ 3.00 cable car ride $ 7.50 neoprint $ 1.00 zixi's present $11.00 total $69.60 went to sentosa and got buried in sand, and Not Burnt, and all around amused. laughable bunch of guys on the yellow float, christl trying to hide from the sun, squealing and imagining plunging from goodness-knows how many feet high up in the cable car into the water. i would have liked a camera or something :) stayed over with xinyi and ate stuffed crust pizza, got to watch the cell block tango again, as well as a korean show that reminded me of my sassy girl, though not as charmingly lovable. how i want to go shopping again, how i had better not forget how much money they owe me, how i had to treat them to lunch because i was the last person to arrive. i need to go job-hunting soon, apprehensive, i might say, the idea of how i might have to do this alone. i might as well learn to be brave, yes? instead of being just convincing. who wont just feed me stars and flowers. have you ever wondered about me, like i've wondered about you? every time he tries to reach out to me and plumb the proverbial depths of my soul he emerges covered in the random sewage algae, and smelling of the sharp shit. i should tell you not to do this, that we should just be happy and sane, laughing over random comedies in the cinema, with lots of buttery popcorn. so lucky honey, i've been thinking that someday you and me will both grow up for real, and the things we do now will seem so ludicrious in our own eyes. our fragile appreciation and sense of beauty will collaspe, or shed its layers to be something new, and maybe we'll start being different people. you wont look like a ghost forever. can you imagine what it might be like, when we write differently (in other words, we think differently? ) ? i try some times and the thought both excites and scares me, but i can never imagine it being completely realistic, and i acknowledge the very real possibility of us (at least one of us) staying this way for the rest of our lives. as i said before but wondered whether to believe, you're not any more able than any of us hermits who try our hands at this game, you know? you're just more lucky, you lucky lucky honey. they call to mind a bright lighted cafe with white walls and pressed sofas, clear glass windows for the light to stream in. they oozed their money and their impeccable style over cups of pricey foreign lattes, in branded tops and animal leather. their nails would be long and manicured, and they would talk of all things under the sun that i couldnt bring myself to keep up for more than half an hour. sometimes maybe they will talk in a language that i can understand, and i will marvel and be mistaken, and unconsciously wrong them in my own prejudices. oh, and they will be surrounded by shopping bags, all cream coloured and loosely patterned (i imagine), or maybe darker, bolder colours of the high-classified boutiques. after an hour or so or light-hearted conversation they will pick up their belongings with long slender fingers, and part ways at the door heading for candlelight dinners with respective boyfriends, girl-friends, people who will smile and kiss each other on the cheek and not haggle over the bill. i would be then a more independent person, id wear denim and coffee-stained tee-shirts all day, i'd struggle between catching my breath and rolling my eyes whenever one of them walked past. i wouldnt give a shit about being objective, or not being fundamentally judgemental, i'd just loathe, without really caring what went on in their lives. and they will only affect me when i am in their world, not when i am at mellow single-run coffe joints, unceremonious on linen couches and chipped glass, surrounded by endlessly droning guitars. in a perfect world, no one in such a place would give a shit, but i know that's never going to happen. and while i know for sure that i dont really give that kind of shit, i would be lying if i said i wasnt occasionally inexplicably jealous or twisted about that prettily made up world, at least once in a while. a neu brand of insanity Tuesday, October 14, 2003 ( 10/14/2003 02:58:00 AM ) elle's if i understood italian, yours might be one of my favourite blogs of all time. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/14/2003 01:36:00 AM ) elle's my mind associates everything so much so that i couldnt listen to my favourite song if it were tainted like that. -thursday, september 18th, 2003. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/14/2003 01:34:00 AM ) elle's and if we had to slug it out, using only our pride as the weapons in our hands, who would win, exactly? and whoever we use against each other who gets caught in the crossfire, really the issue is just as simple as this. i dont care, im gonna learn to not be like you, because talk is cheap and im not gonna keep scorecards like you do. and porcelain breaks cleanly. a neu brand of insanity Monday, October 13, 2003 ( 10/13/2003 08:39:00 AM ) elle's no more exams, *gloatgloatgloat* :) i like the gangster movies that are made with those harsh fluoroscent lightings. its not meant to look all soft and perfect anyway. infernal affairs was confusing, but well shot, and i liked it. and im pissed at the rating for 15, pissed at this stupid system realized on the way home that i ate a (forbidden) chicken burger for lunch today. you're gonna kill me i know. shaoning told me about the delta goodi-something song, said it reminded her of me. i'll miss you by the end of the week, just see if i dont. i can deny it but at the end of the day all these thoughts bring me back to you i hate it when people say that other people worship me. its such a silly, silly word. maybe because i've done it all before and i find reasons though not excuses for the things people do. i do that alot dont i. i want to sing like that, so insane and uninhibited, such an eerie inhuman sound. i cant tell whether i truly thrive on people thinking im insane, or not. and often i delight in the fact that i really dont care whether you believe me or not, its like a feeling of strawberries and cream. i realize a lot of the things i say sound so personally meant against you, but its not. its just by virtue of how we're so different, independently, in a system where there are no rights and wrongs. a neu brand of insanity Sunday, October 12, 2003 ( 10/12/2003 09:56:00 AM ) elle's i just realized that the ad on top of my blog says related searches: antisocial personality disorder. i think i must be stressed without realizing it, because im laughing at every little thing today, and eating myself insane. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/12/2003 09:31:00 AM ) elle's jo: sometimes you're looking out, but most of the time you're looking in. hi jo :) a neu brand of insanity ( 10/12/2003 09:21:00 AM ) elle's do i sound intoxicated? a neu brand of insanity ( 10/12/2003 09:17:00 AM ) elle's i feel like ive been crossing my eyes to somehow see in a different way and they've gotten stuck there. the idea of her religiously drinking four different kinds of alcohol before she sits down to paint and write her disturbing poetry just amuses the hell out of me, even more than her idea that i have the same rituals. old people have beautiful eyes, even when they're standing in the middle of the road, trying to hail a cab not knowing where they're going. she had those beautiful, scared open eyes, fringed with opal blue. she spoke a language i didnt understand, so i hailed a cab for her and made her stand on the curb instead of in the middle of sixth avenue. the taxi driver said he'd try, after his two buay sai's i suppose he felt kind that i didnt know who she was, and while all this happened i watched my bus come and go without me on it. i like receiving mail, and long wordy emails that i can reply to. i hate it when you try to force this on me. what is it to you how i learn to appreciate things, exactly? what does it matter to you whether i find things beautiful or not? i like to be sensated, im not half as intellectual as you, i hate the thought of how i am just like you and every single trait that i detest. strangers are still fascinating. i talked to christl and xinyi today, and i shall go nosey for zixi tomorrow. miss my teamates and my juniors, i really feel like crying when i think about huiqi leaving for rg. we walked past that hossan guy that day, he was all dolled up and gaudy, and he sat there looking so determined and placcid and zoned out and nothing in particular at all. it made me wonder in all sorts of different colours, what he thinks of when he dresses for a day out of town, what was running thru his head while he stared at the floor as we filed past. his makeup was thick and brown, purple, he crossed one leg over the other, the look on his face was so afraid. the picture on gab's livejournal made me think of curly-haired darren and his backward-turned baseball cap, and his ever flushed apple cheeks. and how if i could talk to you today you'd probably be some bball streetkid, smoking and porno, probably having shaven off your adorable curls the one thing i liked the best about you. i ate part of a meatball off sam's plate. but i spent five minutes weeding chicken out of my macaroni. i like the little boys who peer at me out from corners and smile, who run back to their mothers when i smile back. he went jiejie reading and he looked so shy-adorable, he waved at me when i picked up my bag and left. and while idont particularly have the patience for children, i like how fascinated they become at every little thing. there's a maths question of gerard's that i cant solve and its bugging the shit out of me. hermit ella i want to go back to yd, it takes so much self control to not judge her for being judgemental, trying not to self-righteously put down her self-righteousness, i feel so unclean standing next to you, often feel like slapping you for the things you say, though i deserve them, and i wonder how it is that we get to each other so much. if we could put ourselves into the same room for an hour without killing each other, we might have more to say. i want to learn how to play the guitar. i want to adopt a beautiful child and teach her how disregard her own beauty, and find it haunting like a bolt on your leg. i am so afraid of becoming like you, by the way, some day in my limited tomorrows, trying too hard like you, pretending to be okay like you, being so pathetic like you. because then i will remember this now when i looked at you and sneered, and refused to listen, and was so fundamentally judgemental, and i will kick my own ass all over the place for the knowledge of knowing this was coming. they're speeding. we shall eat a whole tub of venezia's tomorrow, and sam will want to push us off a cliff :) a neu brand of insanity Saturday, October 11, 2003 ( 10/11/2003 07:24:00 AM ) elle's i am going to go for a week without sugar, and vegan. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/11/2003 05:56:00 AM ) elle's i liked a i feel like standing atop a high building and letting the wind blow me off. i want to fly, more than i want to fly i want to dare to fly, i want to get out of this shitforsaken country, never really felt so so much until now. ma used to say i was well suited for this kind of society, i wanted so badly to tell her that just because i can do it doenst mean that i like it, want to tell her how i wanted to fly to somewhere less grey, where id be sensated at every little thing. and if i told her this now she'd say something along the lines of how places like that are always in strife, always broken and easily led astray. i want so badly to be with jaryl while he's hanging out at those sleepy accoustic cafes amongst those relentlessly laid back cups of coffee. i like talking to cong in that kind of feel, while he's playing soccer and thinking about classical cute girls with their ridiculous boyfriends and their public displays of affection. she says i haunt, like a mispoken name or mysterious reflection in the glass that you can only see out of the corner of your eye. i told her its just a trick of light. i wonder how you could ever see me that way, you know. i thought i was bad and crazy enough. about five months down the road you wont be able to look back at this without turning your signature red. the idea of getting streamed brings to mind ribbons running under screws and metal getting sliced at all different angles. i saw a blind man on the bus, who nobody gave their seat up to, who stuttered as the bus began to move, whose hand i grasped and brought towards the railing. and i looked at him and thought about that touch of his hands all the way home, wondering what shade he sees the world in. joyce wrote me an email that made me cry and wish she was still around. by the way, its not consolation that however bad i get i'll never be as bad as you. you know? not for more than five seconds, anyway. and those five seconds always hail the ugliest sides of me i've ever seen. i would be lying to you or to myself if i said i was completely unaffected. a neu brand of insanity Friday, October 10, 2003 ( 10/10/2003 10:40:00 AM ) elle's am i going to die from your lead paint? a neu brand of insanity ( 10/10/2003 10:27:00 AM ) elle's i tell them im fifteen and they laugh. laugh their heads off and still ask of the truth. i dont even know why i said fifteen, anway, caught in a situation like that you'd think it'd be natural to lie. but you looked like interesting people, like it would bother you to find out the truth, like you werent just asking me for a light. i cried four times during my lit paper, my words were smudged and i hope she wont notice. i inadvertly reached two steps closer to the centre of the universe today, and the experience stung my senses with the vision of a lonely little man in a green jacket, bespectacled and personal. could i live, without obsessions, i really do wonder sometimes. when im clear headed enough to see myself from a top-view, and i wish i could be like that all the time, so untwisted, to have someone hanging off my back to tell me not to think so much. i would like to be staid, and simple-minded enough to be gloriously complacent. and nothing, nothing, nothing in the world beats live music. they played casablanca, and rain, and hotel california, i could have died on the spot on recognizing the introduction, trying so hard not to squeal like the schoolgirl i was even then. he sang with a raspy asian twang that i grew to like after a while, because it was just so personal and our culture, something so un-western and integral. and i always wish wish wish my voice werent so weak and frail and full of wind, i want the voices of people like alanis morisette, like shirley manson, like cheryl crow, before all three of them sold out with their pop albums. the guitar was mediocre for performers of that standard, takable, changable, still so intoxicating when coupled with the bass, the drums, the sheer volume i suppose. i had the best half hour at the esplanade library reading rock-slease magazines, sam is bowled over by the explicitness, i want to go back there every week to read, to talk to the person who took those magazines off the shelf and left them on the table where we found them. and i would like to play an instrument well, how i would like to drown myself in indie-rock and alternative, in foreign films and dislocated literature. i wish someone would grow me like that, wish i knew more people who shared my obsession with classic soft rock and the like. i dont even know actual names for it, coz things are just so alien to me, even though what fleeting brushes i have with it leave me out cold and fascinated for days. i wished today that i lived in a less monotonous country, i want the shirt that says censorship__off, free speech__on. i like having shaoning around because she tells me about her aep, and i am fascinated as i always am, regretful as i always am, bitter as i always am. but so intrigued, so so so intrigued and envious, i am too idealistic for my own damn good. and i pissed him off today, never felt so good flying to the moon. a neu brand of insanity Thursday, October 09, 2003 ( 10/09/2003 09:47:00 AM ) elle's and i wish youd be this real to be and this honest, all of the time, but then i know neither of us would be able to take it. while we're laughing at each other good naturedly, while we talk about these things like they were the weather, while we kiss out of pure boredom. honesty? oh please, this was exactly the world i asked for, in idealism, in insanity, in-fused with nicotine and alcohol, at least i knew how it would hurt from a long time ago, and maybe i could get used to this bruising. that's what they did to me, you know, with their scratched-up tones and textures, i suppose they're the ones who shaped my perception of beauty, you know if they hadnt touched that part of me it would be so easier to put them into a box and shove it under my bed. min says that on my blog i sound awfully intoxicated, far away from what i sound like in real life. and shaoning was nice to me today. a neu brand of insanity Wednesday, October 08, 2003 ( 10/08/2003 08:40:00 AM ) elle's eoys are more than half over, i decided to sacrifice chem, too bad i didnt think of this earlier, resort to such maddening decisions. we'll be the toy soldiers. and screw you, in advance, just coz i know what goes from here and the idea of it makes me sick, because i dont want things to be any old shit and soon it'll be my fault it'll be my fault and though you can pick things up and put them down just like that i cant i wont ever be able to do that and i know that doesnt matter to you so screwall what does it matter to me whether you smoke or not? whether you lie or not? whether you're sane or not? a neu brand of insanity Monday, October 06, 2003 ( 10/06/2003 10:01:00 AM ) elle's oh, and sorry, because id wanted to apologize to you tonight, but then i came home to shit and it kind of took second place. but well sorry, anyway, while i'll do this another time, call you up or something i never do. and i wondered what it felt like for you to be trying so hard to hint these things, how i ignored them as i always do, if you knew me well enough you'd just be sure of what id say, dont you? coz if you dont know that side of me by now, i dont know who does. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/06/2003 09:52:00 AM ) elle's and we can scream and shout, and go insane, da will be the only one to keep his head, while she totters around at night crying for home. he will keep the bag of garbage just for me, they will hold their reverence while i play broken chords and let my tears splatter on the two-toned keys. mother, did i hurt you with what i said? his quiet understanding moved me to tears again, how he understood my sentiment, in a way that she never could. and just one of these days id like to do something about these red puffy eyes. a neu brand of insanity Sunday, October 05, 2003 ( 10/05/2003 09:57:00 AM ) elle's julia says: (ella the addict, in more ways than one) more ways than alot, actually. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/05/2003 09:45:00 AM ) elle's and how i would like to tell you that it was all so accidental, that whole existence was accidental, and that people are still people, whatever they seem. do you believe me? would you ever believe me? im ten times as bad as you and here i am trying to make you understand. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/05/2003 09:28:00 AM ) elle's aiyee bought me middlesex today, by jeffrey eugenides, and i read the back cover and the first two pages and wanted to STUFF HISTORY. they had another spastic party at macs, and i could see edwin and julian dancing in my mind's eye. and sam, her face turning red, trying, laughing, having the time of her life, a day we would talk about months and months down the road. and me, i would pretend that i didnt really really want to dance, trying not to let it show, trying not to be someone who could be easily put down, how i dont talk about direct memories like that. every time jinhua messages me i think about chinpeng, his cold warmth sitting next to me, and the bowling alley, his hopefulness, his hard brittle dejection. when joyce does this to me as she's done ever since the beginning of the year, i just dont care anymore, and i realize how irritating i used to be, how badly i wronged you and i think about how insane you must have been to have tolerated me. banging your head against a wall to draw blood, did you really give that much of a shit, or were you just bored? if you asked me, id maybe give you the url of my alternate publication, one of many of something im not that proud of, but you had to swear not to give it to others, and to tell me the truth. im not so closed minded, i would like to admit, though i am mostly checkered blacks and white. because honestly, as long as you're human and human to me, you'd be able to say something that i could find intruiging. (sometimes im so ambiguous i dont even know what im talking about myself) i feel evil to you, and i wonder why i scare you. well maybe id scare me, too, i guess i cant think so. some days i wonder what its like not to be a freak, some days i really know, for short whiles, if nothing at all, and i think about primary school and how amanda told sharon i was so popular when really all i felt was far away from maro, and things like that. always, always maro, just because i liked her, the two way obsessions, my unwillingness to believe that she was just trivial with popular. and i hate the word popular still do, but i do love cheerleading and i was fond of maro. and then we lost contact and i found out how she became one of those typical girls again, how fooled i was, but how i wondered if id ever really believed. and then her, some days i wonder if i could ever hope to be beautiful like her, how i hold my breath every time i think about her, her world, how things would be different there. i wonder if im too hopeful. somebody asked me yesterday if id trade being broken and being beautiful, as in a associative deliberate thing, i didnt know how to say that i wasnt beautiful without sounding condescending. because i know wihtout knowing so many people who take my breath away, i know that beauty is nothing but a perception, i know i believe things that are just so different from them. oh, and i wonder what its like to not be obsessed with beauty, consciously or unconsciously. and i want to forget what its like to be loud and pretentious, and never think about that feeling again. i would to learn how to breathe around you, and not see the world in violent monochrome all the time. a neu brand of insanity Saturday, October 04, 2003 ( 10/04/2003 11:10:00 AM ) elle's and you really scared me, today, with that message, coz im so afaid of my lack of self-control, coupled with your headstrong recklessness, how insane and wrong this could go. im too fond of you to see you in that way, i know, but then, you also remind me too much of him. and id miss that, if i let myself have the chance, did you know? i would like more songs like that, where lyrics are poetry and part of the song, where you wouldn't dare to rhyme blue with you and heart-ache with break unless you had a gun to your temple. i suppose im the sort of person who would name my kid after a song, or a romantic city with cracked walls. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/04/2003 11:02:00 AM ) elle's and i cried more than eight times today, thinking about what da said in the morning, blowing it off, asking me whether i wanted soft rock or country music, how you wont have the mood to watch the musical even though you fall in love with these things every time you think of them. how you always laugh when you're afraid, da you know that scared me more than anything? the idea, that im not ready to live without my mother, how you might die of a broken heart if she were gone. do you know? do you know how chinese i felt, lacing my fingers through her gold chain that night, the one she keeps in the safe, while she told me of how all of them had come to be? how i forgot that i was a rabbit and not a true dragon, and squealed at the first sighting of a dragon pendant, when she laughed and said that was hers and not mine. you know the grape pendant, the one that ah ma gave her, that she told me how she wore to the swimming pool and lost the diamonds? and when she asked me if i wanted it, and i twirled it around on my fingers, i told her i dont wear these things but i just like owning them, do you know that? i just like owning these beautiful things do you know how different my prose and my literature is from gail's, how she can't write anything personal, and how that's the only thing i can do? how you leaked into my exam essay, da, but i couldnt sustain it, and id wanted to tear the thing to shreds just because it had your name on it. you are music, da, you're like a diamond that's turned to stone, covered in so many layers, so many secrets, so many tragedies, so unready to die at fifty 52 years old. and i know you dont, da, though you pretend to be okay, i know you're afraid of the same things as us diseased weaklings, i know you're not immune, do you know that im just like you da, do you know that's what you gave me? other than a blue cross and a love for humanities. other than that reindeer pendant you brought from switzerland, the flowers from the market you've given me, the times you've made me angry and sad and you make me worry so much da you always laugh when you're afraid. and i dont want to think of what your life's been like, da, dont want to think about my name, think about your brother, think about michael and how he doesnt understand. you're like piano chords that have been fragmented and patched so badly, the way they seem to go astray, the way you realize that they're just accompaniment and that they've been there forever. and sometimes when people tell me that im smart, i want to tell them that im nuts, compared to you. but da that also goes with everything, you know? if we were our afflictions id be joining you. and everytime i feel broken like this i just wonder how you grew up, and how you were a story, had a story, once upon a time. the pictures of ma when she was around my age, how damn much michelle looks like her, and how i look so much like you. like the picture on my grandmother's tombstone. and i think till i cry and read centre of the universe time and time again it doesnt matter to me how many a's and smiley faces choo draws on my script, at the end of the day it was a feeling spun into words and i fell in love with it because i didnt know how to do it, i dont care how many people tell me how i did a good job on it, everytime i read my report something is always missing. da i know you wanted to shelter me from everything you had, how you buy so much food coz you remember what it was like to starve once, i choke on oxygen when i think of you. how did things go so fast for you? for me? im fifteen, its been a while, people are already calling me tragic im wondering what the shit do they know? what the heck do i know? nothing, da, when you get down to it, but i know you'd have wanted to be different, i remember forcing lucas to think of death when he was ten and i was a year younger. da what did you spill over into me, exactly, was it the music that you gave me? how you intoxicated yourself with it, how it invaded my walls and my sister whom i adored and my brother whom i admired and everything that's ever matter to me in my life? do you know that, da, that you grew me like an evergreen in a pot and now i dont think i could take being without this darklight? and da, why do you always have to laugh when you're afraid. a neu brand of insanity Friday, October 03, 2003 ( 10/03/2003 09:23:00 AM ) elle's and i laugh at you, everyday so malicious my contempt there's not point in saying im sorry. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/03/2003 09:19:00 AM ) elle's i want you to know that they dont bother me anymore, and it's always been you. at least when you were around, and things like that. i prayed today, for swift doctor's hands, and a resignation to whatever fate will come to pass why do you want to talk to me, then run away? this mindless hide and seek, when you're the one who hurts for real. a neu brand of insanity ( 10/03/2003 09:19:00 AM ) elle's i would write lyrics for the deranged, i would be a hippy gone so so wrong. i wouldnt let anything you said get to me i would try so hard to be good at denying try harder to fit in, maybe. i would be less volatile, and beautiful, only for a day. i would be queer and not do you the courtesy of hiding it from your view, i'd tell you that i didnt care what you think. (and i dont, my dear, because you're twisted in your spineless own way too) and if i had the voice for it, i would sing the twisted, neurotic songs like that. a neu brand of insanity Thursday, October 02, 2003 ( 10/02/2003 09:01:00 AM ) elle's exams haven't sunk in yet, by the way. feels like an out of body experience, where my mind is floating somewhere near the ceiling, screaming at me to go and study, or look at the compo handouts for tomorrow, or even just think about compo points and stuff like that. feels like competition last year, queerly unworried, so detached and insane, so damn zen. i am going to starve to buy jagged little pill. a neu brand of insanity |
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