Documentary

Rewinds and plays, repeating itself without its audience. The scripts never changes, the actors do.

Invitations came in, options of avoidance came in. Slip into any, I hope not. Not now.

Pen Away

Addressing all these cerebrations, I have got no wish to browse again. Desiderating to disdain, I leave it all behind.

Gratitude

Gratitude that I was given a window to that world of yours, trusting you for freeing me. Like the theory of quicksand, I came upon realization not resist but to go with the flow. Perhaps I was long aware of this fact, but I wasn't really thinking deep enough.

Occupied, yes. Joke around, play a fool. The moment I fear most is the tranquil of the night, where thoughts came haunting the hell out of me.

Day Three

Pacing around in that vicious cycle, without obstacles. Stuck in sorrow and self-pity. I fell in love without anticipating the moment of losing it, no one falls in love with that thinking. Hate to see it fade from my life, but I had, there wasn't a choice. Or rather, I only gave myself the option of respecting it. Promises are in abundance, but they only acts as guidelines. They are only present for the sake of presenting itself.

I wish I could peak the stages of anger to ease self-pity, but all I could selflessly afford is to respect and understand.

Forgive. To forgive is to deprive him from being responsible of my grieve.

The part i resent most from my grief is to feel powerless to bring back that lost love.

Movies portrayed a far too perfect, misleading fact to lives. I live in a world deprived of perfect feelings to deliever the perfect lines at the perfect time. When the magic is gone, Cinderella has to go. Fairy tales can be choreographed, but the loveliness in these events is not available in real life. Movie, is like a reflection, pointing out what's missing in our lives. It merely tells us, 'Hello... do you know how deprived u are of perfection?'

The once young and naive soul of mine, who plotted future love life as flawless as the angels, til then, has yet to cascade.

A sip of liqueur, a sad love song, a faint aroma of candles. Slipping into the sinking darkness, into the night.

Signing off,
Qin

Grave Site

Face it: Love isn't like it is in the movies. Walt Disney and Doris Day lied to us. I want my money back.

Am i fighting inside with my inability to change what happened? Bittersweet, replaced was, but, a dull numbness, reminding me of that lost. Soon enough when the numbness gradually thaws, reality sets in like you're only one second away from the death sentence. Every recall of it magnifies this pain to 100 times maginification. Losing love is like a knight being stripped off of his armour, what's left will be the raw pain of battle wounds. Building all over again, like a lost game trying to recoup its pride.

Home --- The love-atm. No matter how much injustices we had spiralled down, home is the only place to make all these bearable.

A light conversatiom

It's gonna be one of those countable daily entries for today, hah..

Almost until i'm edging graduation that I realised how unfavourably I was pinned upon. I was listed 'bitchy'... hm.. since year one.. lolx.. thanks to Jingsi's enlightenment. I was about to ask her how could I have changed that image, but I guess it was redandunt when she said that I had that kind of face. So it kind of left me utterly speechless. And that.. I kind of spurged two, three hundred bucks to be a poodle. I don't disagree though, lolx.. Imagine how disappointed I was when the hairdresser removed those plastic perm rods.. I was like.. 'wow.. what now?'

I guess I can't rid those terms now that I'm still considered a 'no,no' for girls. lolx.. Let live. No 'lady' luck for me, so be it. lolx..

Human Relations

Caught in a hostile situation today. If I was to say I see no faults upon it, I'd be lying. I wouldn't state so, but I thought that she could have handled it better with a tinch of interpersonal intelligence. It was mere work, that depends on how you put your message across.

Recalling a profile in friendster whereby someone claims to abhore the sucess of other people, exposed me to a window of inferiority in some. The state of human relations binds like a heap of afro. Complexity. Judgement of the conscientious lies on a bare tread in obscurity.

Impetus blooms after my long-term deprivation of cavorting. Attaining bodily-kinesthetic intelligence is my aim.

Music. It pours in perturbation.

To my hardcore fan: Good try today.

Art peeps nowadays destitute in their morals, or art they a dyed-in-the-wool herd of peeps who has an emfeeblement to social concerns.

Some peeps simply lacks interpersonal intelligence, ought to learn, or get enlightened through the pool of sarcasms peeps offer. Latest printing technology is, again, simply nonsensical.