Do you have any pets?
Yep. Three, rather large, rabbits.
What color shirt are you wearing?
Green.
Name three things that are close to you:
You mean literally close? Hmm. Nail-clipper. Thumb-drive. Physics book.
What is the last book you read?
Physics book.
Are you or were you a good student?
Once I was a very good student. That was a very long time ago. Now I'm semi-average. Perhaps even below.
What's your favorite sport?
I surf. Surf the net.
Do you enjoy sleeping late?
Sleeping late has become a part of my life.
What's the weather like right now?
Bright. Too bright.
Who tells the best jokes?
My sister Hajer and my friend, Mel.
What was the last thing you dreamed about?
The sacrificial death of a few Sun Goddesses (SERIOUSLY!).
Do you believe in karma?
Yes.
Do you believe in luck?
Yeah.
Do you like your eggs scrambled or sunny side up?
Scrambled, baby!
Do you collect anything? If so, what?
I collect antique furniture! Oh, wait. I don't. (D'oh!)
Are you proud of yourself?
I hate myself.
Are you reliable?
Depends on your reason for relying on me.
Have you ever given money to a bum?
I don't give money. I take 'em.
What's your favorite food?
CHEESE, CHEESE and anything that involves CHEESE.
Have you ever had a secret admirer?
I don't think so.
Do you like the smell of gasoline?
HELL YEAH!
Do like to draw?
Malas all ready.
What's your favorite invention?
BED.
Is your room messy?
My standards? This is neat. Others? It looks like a war zone.
What do you like better: oranges or apples?
Oranges!
Do you give in easily?
Hell, no.
Are you a good guesser?
No.
Can you read other people's expressions?
Yes. Pretty well.
Are you a bully?
I don't bully.
Do you have a job?
My job is to laze around and sleep all day. I'm the bum of the family.
What time did you wake up this morning?
9am.
What did you eat for breakfast this morning?
A tuna sandwich!
When was the last time you showered?
YESTERDAY!
What do you plan on doing tomorrow?
I think I'll do a bit of Add. Maths.
What's your favorite day of the week and why?
Saturday because I can stay up late and wake up even later the next morning.
Do you have any nicknames?
Han, Foo', Emo, Emo Queen, Llama (still not getting it), Boyfriend Killer, Ka Na, Kuna.... must you really ask??
Have you ever been scuba diving?
No. I don't do fish. Or sea. Or sport. Whatever. I don't do outside the house.
What's your least favorite color?
Pale yellow.
Is there someone you have been constantly thinking about? If yes, who?
Bilbo, the family rabbit. May he rest in peace.
What toothpaste do you use?
Colgate.
Do you enjoy challenges?
Only if I win them.
What's the last movie you saw?
Do 60 episodes of Bleach count? No? Well, then, I guess its Hancock.
What does your last text message say?
Ok.
Who was the last person you spoke over the phone to?
Mel.
What's your favorite school subject?
Duhhhh....
What's your least favorite school subject?
Chemistry! No, wait! Add Math. Oh, no, no! Physics! Wait. Erm; BM! God, there are so many to choose from!!
Would you rather have money or love?
Money is love if you use it wisely.
Do you miss anyone right now?
Bilbo.
What's the last sporting event you watched?
I don't watch/play/smell nor do I even CARE about sports.
Do you need to do laundry?
Naah. I can wear the same thing for a week before doing laundry!
Do you listen to the radio?
Every night.
What do you do when vending machines steal your money?
Cut myself.
Have you ever caught a butterfly?
No. Why would I want to? They die after about a week anyways.
What color are your bed sheets?
Yellow.
What's your ringtone?
*Cough* That Tokyo Drift song. Fast and Furious.
Who was the last person to make you laugh?
Gene Simmons.
Do you have any obsessions right now?
RENRUKI!
Do you like things that glow in the dark?
Yeah. They're cool.
What's your favorite fruity scent?
Citrus!
Do you watch cartoons?
Hell, yeah.
Have you ever sat on a roof?
No.
Name three people in the world you dislike:
My ex Math teacher, Giggalee, and Sofia's Best Friend.
Has a rumor even been spread about you?
I don't think so.
Do you like sushi?
Depends.
Do you believe in magic?
Say that again and I'll punch you!
Tips to Stay Cool When Your Parents Criticize You
I decided that since I hadn't posted in a while anyways, I'm going to add in one extra post. Send in two at one shot before calling it a night, y'know?
Anyways, here it is. A somewhat sequel to my previous one.
Tips to Stay Cool When Your Parents Criticize You:
5) Think of that hot guy you saw the other day at the mall.
4) Entertain yourself with a good joke. Ensure, however, that the joke isn't TOO good. You wouldn't want them to catch you laughing, now, would you?
3) Put on a sad face.
2) Nod every few seconds.
1) SHUT UP.
If all goes well, these tips will really help you out of a jam! (Result not guaranteed. Please visit your doctor if allergic reaction occurs)
Anyways, here it is. A somewhat sequel to my previous one.
Tips to Stay Cool When Your Parents Criticize You:
5) Think of that hot guy you saw the other day at the mall.
4) Entertain yourself with a good joke. Ensure, however, that the joke isn't TOO good. You wouldn't want them to catch you laughing, now, would you?
3) Put on a sad face.
2) Nod every few seconds.
1) SHUT UP.
If all goes well, these tips will really help you out of a jam! (Result not guaranteed. Please visit your doctor if allergic reaction occurs)
Criticism and Advice
The closer we're getting to exams, the smaller the school population -- do you notice that? Students have been snatching up every opportunity in the book just to NOT go to school. I, non-regrettably, happen to be one of the many students who happen to do so.
Why?
Well, for most, the main objective is to get some ACTUAL work done. Same goes for me, too, I guess -- but most of all, I skip school just so that I can get some ACTUAL sleep.
Ahem. Well, anyways.
I'm starting to think twice about all this skipping nonsense. Nowadays, instead of waking up to the ear-splitting ring of my alarm clock at 6.15am in the morning, I am met with the ear-splitting scream of my mother forcing me to get out of bed around 8am in the morning -- which, basically to me, is no real help.
I mean, sure, when I don't go to school I get an extra 2 hours of sleep (more or less), but trust me; when your mum yells at you the moment you find yourself in a gripping cliff-hanger in one of those amazing dreams you find difficulty getting, FORCING you out of bed so that you would IMMEDIATELY hit the books -- no help.
ERGH.
I mean, SURE, SPM is close. I get it all ready. But do you SERIOUSLY have to SCREAM at me from ALL THE WAY DOWNSTAIRS??????
AND ANOTHER THING:
My mum and dad seem to be more and more ticked off regarding my behavior. They're calling me unfocused and insensitive -- and had at one point called me "tak guna" (which, in my books, is the ULTIMATE insult).
Naturally, a teenager's reply to such nasty remarks, even when addressed by their parents, would be to create a fuss and storm dramatically out of the scene before locking themselves up inside their bedrooms; My Chemical Romance switched on, full blast.
I hereby proudly proclaim that I am an exception to such childish behavior.
Instead of creating a fuss, I prefer to sag my shoulders in mock-defeat. To match "storming dramatically out of the scene", I usually roll my eyes sarcastically. While others would lock themselves up in their bedrooms and scream to the lyrics of MCR, I just yawn and go, "Yeah, whatever."
Yet, SOMEHOW, my behavior is met with the same reaction of that of parent who has difficulty keeping their 15-year-old spiked-boot-wearing, tongue-piercing, arm-tattooing, party-crashing, daughter in check -- if not WORST, in fact.
I don't get my parents.
When I was 14, they told me I was too stressed out, had taken life too seriously, and thought too much over the tiniest details.
NOW they're calling me a selfish, whatever because I'm the opposite of all those things.
!!!
ALSO,
Both my parents said to me (at different time intervals, of course) that I'm filling my head full of music too much. That when I listen to too much music, my mind gets all fuzzy and I become brainwashed. They say that by repeating the same thing over and over again, it gets into your subconscious or something like that.
That got me thinking:
Why hadn't all the things my PARENTS had said to me gotten into my head when its played on repeat, day in, day out?
Of course, I didn't dare say that aloud.
...
Oh, wait. I did.
That sure got me into a lot of trouble.
Now they've started criticizing me about how I "never fail to come up with a retort to everything they throw at me." And somehow, this whole little speech of theirs managed to fit in a, "Can't you be more responsible?", which, to me, seems completely out of the blue.
Sigh.
This Thursday, my grandfather is coming over. My mums all pissed cause she's saying that he criticizes her too much. She wants him to shut up, I guess.
I gave her some advise, just to keep her from worrying too much:
"Don't come up with a retort to everything he throws at you."
My mum glared at me for that one.
...
I don't get her.
Why?
Well, for most, the main objective is to get some ACTUAL work done. Same goes for me, too, I guess -- but most of all, I skip school just so that I can get some ACTUAL sleep.
Ahem. Well, anyways.
I'm starting to think twice about all this skipping nonsense. Nowadays, instead of waking up to the ear-splitting ring of my alarm clock at 6.15am in the morning, I am met with the ear-splitting scream of my mother forcing me to get out of bed around 8am in the morning -- which, basically to me, is no real help.
I mean, sure, when I don't go to school I get an extra 2 hours of sleep (more or less), but trust me; when your mum yells at you the moment you find yourself in a gripping cliff-hanger in one of those amazing dreams you find difficulty getting, FORCING you out of bed so that you would IMMEDIATELY hit the books -- no help.
ERGH.
I mean, SURE, SPM is close. I get it all ready. But do you SERIOUSLY have to SCREAM at me from ALL THE WAY DOWNSTAIRS??????
AND ANOTHER THING:
My mum and dad seem to be more and more ticked off regarding my behavior. They're calling me unfocused and insensitive -- and had at one point called me "tak guna" (which, in my books, is the ULTIMATE insult).
Naturally, a teenager's reply to such nasty remarks, even when addressed by their parents, would be to create a fuss and storm dramatically out of the scene before locking themselves up inside their bedrooms; My Chemical Romance switched on, full blast.
I hereby proudly proclaim that I am an exception to such childish behavior.
Instead of creating a fuss, I prefer to sag my shoulders in mock-defeat. To match "storming dramatically out of the scene", I usually roll my eyes sarcastically. While others would lock themselves up in their bedrooms and scream to the lyrics of MCR, I just yawn and go, "Yeah, whatever."
Yet, SOMEHOW, my behavior is met with the same reaction of that of parent who has difficulty keeping their 15-year-old spiked-boot-wearing, tongue-piercing, arm-tattooing, party-crashing, daughter in check -- if not WORST, in fact.
I don't get my parents.
When I was 14, they told me I was too stressed out, had taken life too seriously, and thought too much over the tiniest details.
NOW they're calling me a selfish, whatever because I'm the opposite of all those things.
!!!
ALSO,
Both my parents said to me (at different time intervals, of course) that I'm filling my head full of music too much. That when I listen to too much music, my mind gets all fuzzy and I become brainwashed. They say that by repeating the same thing over and over again, it gets into your subconscious or something like that.
That got me thinking:
Why hadn't all the things my PARENTS had said to me gotten into my head when its played on repeat, day in, day out?
Of course, I didn't dare say that aloud.
...
Oh, wait. I did.
That sure got me into a lot of trouble.
Now they've started criticizing me about how I "never fail to come up with a retort to everything they throw at me." And somehow, this whole little speech of theirs managed to fit in a, "Can't you be more responsible?", which, to me, seems completely out of the blue.
Sigh.
This Thursday, my grandfather is coming over. My mums all pissed cause she's saying that he criticizes her too much. She wants him to shut up, I guess.
I gave her some advise, just to keep her from worrying too much:
"Don't come up with a retort to everything he throws at you."
My mum glared at me for that one.
...
I don't get her.
REVELATION!
Dear readers,
Today I shall reveal to you a most shocking news!
I, Hannah, have decided...
NOT TO GO TO THE PROM.
Thats right, fools. I, Hannah, the, perhaps, laziest person in the world right now, have come up with this conclusion both discussed and verified under terms and conditions, after outplaying the many possible scenarios, eating burnt chip, and chit-chatting with my neighbour.
Oh, yes.
Due to this (very SPECIAL, might I add), revelation, I have decided also to reveal to you something else totally MAJOR:
You know that "hot", short date I was talking to you about? Yeah. That would be Sofia. And, no. I don't actually think of girls as "hot" in that way. I was merely jokin' with ya.
AND ANOTHER THING!
This be the outfit I HAD been planning to wear to the prom-whatever.
Another special feature I will now feature upon this special-featured blog post:
Reasons I've Decided NOT to Go:
Today I shall reveal to you a most shocking news!
I, Hannah, have decided...
NOT TO GO TO THE PROM.
Thats right, fools. I, Hannah, the, perhaps, laziest person in the world right now, have come up with this conclusion both discussed and verified under terms and conditions, after outplaying the many possible scenarios, eating burnt chip, and chit-chatting with my neighbour.
Oh, yes.
Due to this (very SPECIAL, might I add), revelation, I have decided also to reveal to you something else totally MAJOR:
You know that "hot", short date I was talking to you about? Yeah. That would be Sofia. And, no. I don't actually think of girls as "hot" in that way. I was merely jokin' with ya.
AND ANOTHER THING!
This be the outfit I HAD been planning to wear to the prom-whatever.
Another special feature I will now feature upon this special-featured blog post:
Reasons I've Decided NOT to Go:
1) I don't do dancing.
2) I shudder at the mere idea of surrounding myself with homo sapiens.
3) I don't do giggly.
4) You know the word "socialising" isn't even IN my dictionary.
5) I'm not going to spend over RM100 on a single night of fun and dancing and joy!
6) I am.... humiliatingly fat.
7) I don't feel like bloating myself full of punch, thank you very much.
8) I'd feel like a hag amongst all them glittery folk.
9) My prom-date decided not to go either, so I wouldn't have a partner anyways.
10) Two words: PROM DRESS.
Indifferent
37 days til SPM! Most people are going on about how loudly they can hear their own hearts thumping against their chest. I'm still here, kicking my shoes up, watching as the time passes by.
Okay, okay. So I may be exaggerating a teeny-tiny little bit, but, seriously, I'm still only studying whenever the mood strikes me (which is, like, never??). Yeah. That bad.
Today was/IS the first day of school after the raya holidays. Fun, fun, fun. I was, of course, being my usual self and perhaps causing a fuss about how awful I did for BM. People mostly rolled their eyes and ignored me, of course, but I, nonetheless, managed to carry on doing so for the rest of the school day. No teachers taught -- or, if they did, I didn't listen. I can tell you for a fact, though, without even recieving my result slip, that I have all ready failed Add Math. Oh, yes. All my dad's hard work, vroom, down the God forsaken drain.
...Not that its his fault, of course.
In fact, if anything, I pity my father.
He worked so hard trying to teach me; but I, being the bad student/daughter that I was/is, had, of course, not put his hard work to practice. AT. ALL. Even the day before the big exam I was all joking around and acting stupid (which, by the way, doesn't require actual acting, to be frank). I'm still at that phase where I can't stop thinking about how I'm gonna celebrate after SPM, instead of thinking about the actual SPM itself.
Stupid, childish me.
I want to study, but I just can't. My dad has been constantly giving me all soets of motivational crap, and I've been carelessly not listening to it (though, I must say, I do a good job of giving him the impression that I was listening).
I feel bad.
No, wait. Scratch that.
I WANT to feel bad.
But I don't.
I feel nothing at all.
Okay, okay. So I may be exaggerating a teeny-tiny little bit, but, seriously, I'm still only studying whenever the mood strikes me (which is, like, never??). Yeah. That bad.
Today was/IS the first day of school after the raya holidays. Fun, fun, fun. I was, of course, being my usual self and perhaps causing a fuss about how awful I did for BM. People mostly rolled their eyes and ignored me, of course, but I, nonetheless, managed to carry on doing so for the rest of the school day. No teachers taught -- or, if they did, I didn't listen. I can tell you for a fact, though, without even recieving my result slip, that I have all ready failed Add Math. Oh, yes. All my dad's hard work, vroom, down the God forsaken drain.
...Not that its his fault, of course.
In fact, if anything, I pity my father.
He worked so hard trying to teach me; but I, being the bad student/daughter that I was/is, had, of course, not put his hard work to practice. AT. ALL. Even the day before the big exam I was all joking around and acting stupid (which, by the way, doesn't require actual acting, to be frank). I'm still at that phase where I can't stop thinking about how I'm gonna celebrate after SPM, instead of thinking about the actual SPM itself.
Stupid, childish me.
I want to study, but I just can't. My dad has been constantly giving me all soets of motivational crap, and I've been carelessly not listening to it (though, I must say, I do a good job of giving him the impression that I was listening).
I feel bad.
No, wait. Scratch that.
I WANT to feel bad.
But I don't.
I feel nothing at all.
I just realised something: I hate this blog so darned freaking much.
I'm going to start a new blog soon. A select few will know about it -- whoever it is ought to be tremendously grateful. The fact that I will tell you means that you matter very dearly to me. Or I was drunk that night and had decided to let the secret slip. Same thing.
whatever.
Currently feeling guilty. Mum's asleep and I SHOULD be studying. Not, obviously. Trials. They suck. Picked a fight with a thirteen year old. Don't have a clue who won. Fell in love with fanfiction all over again. Emo. Emo. Emo.
No one gets me. I don't care.
Whatever.
I'm going to start a new blog soon. A select few will know about it -- whoever it is ought to be tremendously grateful. The fact that I will tell you means that you matter very dearly to me. Or I was drunk that night and had decided to let the secret slip. Same thing.
whatever.
Currently feeling guilty. Mum's asleep and I SHOULD be studying. Not, obviously. Trials. They suck. Picked a fight with a thirteen year old. Don't have a clue who won. Fell in love with fanfiction all over again. Emo. Emo. Emo.
No one gets me. I don't care.
Whatever.
You know whats sad? I'm sitting in front of Sofia's laptop, staring at my BLOG, and I'm not even able to come up with anything interesting to say.
This is really, really sad. I mean, I've wanted to write in this thing for ages, I had SO much to write about, had so much for the world to see -- the build up was so great; and now...? GAH. The extreme irony of it all.
Moral of story: think about what you've got to say, before you sit in front of the actual internet, and are allowed to say it.
This is really, really sad. I mean, I've wanted to write in this thing for ages, I had SO much to write about, had so much for the world to see -- the build up was so great; and now...? GAH. The extreme irony of it all.
Moral of story: think about what you've got to say, before you sit in front of the actual internet, and are allowed to say it.
Proms and Whatever
okay, i have ten minutes more before sofie snatches mel's mum's laptop from under my nose. true story.
so... blogging for the sake of blogging. our topic of discussion for today?: PROM.
egh. everyone, and i mean practically every form-5er, is so incredibly... i don't know... OBSESSED about this prom-thing which is happening, like, AFTER the BIGGEST EXAM WE WILL EVER FACE IN OUR ENTIRE LIVES.
the form 5 students of smkkk are choosing a stinking prom over their actual future.
crazy?
yes.
guilty of doing so as well?
can't say, sorry.
anyways,
everyone is going on about who they want to go with, what they want to wear; and i'm just here, going, "eh, i'm going to be the guy!"
yeah, i know: wtf?
true story.
i'll be that much loved emo in the corner, licking her wounds, blah blah blah.
BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M DATELESS!
on the contrare, oh silly ones, i DO have a date. a hot date! a short date, sure, but hot date nonetheless.
yeah.
so, next time you get the idea: "well, at least i'm not as pathetic as THAT emo in the corner, licking her wounds", remember THIS:
THAT emo in the corner just so happens to have a DATE.
so, HAH.
in your face, chums.
so... blogging for the sake of blogging. our topic of discussion for today?: PROM.
egh. everyone, and i mean practically every form-5er, is so incredibly... i don't know... OBSESSED about this prom-thing which is happening, like, AFTER the BIGGEST EXAM WE WILL EVER FACE IN OUR ENTIRE LIVES.
the form 5 students of smkkk are choosing a stinking prom over their actual future.
crazy?
yes.
guilty of doing so as well?
can't say, sorry.
anyways,
everyone is going on about who they want to go with, what they want to wear; and i'm just here, going, "eh, i'm going to be the guy!"
yeah, i know: wtf?
true story.
i'll be that much loved emo in the corner, licking her wounds, blah blah blah.
BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M DATELESS!
on the contrare, oh silly ones, i DO have a date. a hot date! a short date, sure, but hot date nonetheless.
yeah.
so, next time you get the idea: "well, at least i'm not as pathetic as THAT emo in the corner, licking her wounds", remember THIS:
THAT emo in the corner just so happens to have a DATE.
so, HAH.
in your face, chums.
Quick Check 1.0
Ok. You may be wondering, "I thought she just f*cking moved, how come she's online??"
Well, I did move. And yes, I do NOT have internet. So if you think I'm lying about the whole situation, think again. I would NEVER lie about something so... well, anything so serious.
I'm at Mel's house today and we're SUPPOSED to be studying -- but, hey! How can I possibly refuse the internet and its many, many seductions? Well, at least Mel is doing something (translated: flicking through book, not understanding).
I swear, however. This one last post and I'm off.
Just wanna give a big, fat hug and/or shoutout to those of you who have actually taken some time off your busy lives to check out this lame piece of crap. I know I ain't the coolest blogger in the world, and I know I come up with the dumbest jokes -- so for you people who actually READ this stuff, put up with it and/or like it, you deserve my honest solute.
You guys RULE.
Also, I am now recieving tags. Tag me as much as you want, folks. Just tag tag tag tag all the way, coz I SO don't mind the attention.
Tag me.
Go ahead.
I DEMAND it.
-
-
Extra hugs for the person sending most tags?? Anyone?
Well, I did move. And yes, I do NOT have internet. So if you think I'm lying about the whole situation, think again. I would NEVER lie about something so... well, anything so serious.
I'm at Mel's house today and we're SUPPOSED to be studying -- but, hey! How can I possibly refuse the internet and its many, many seductions? Well, at least Mel is doing something (translated: flicking through book, not understanding).
I swear, however. This one last post and I'm off.
Just wanna give a big, fat hug and/or shoutout to those of you who have actually taken some time off your busy lives to check out this lame piece of crap. I know I ain't the coolest blogger in the world, and I know I come up with the dumbest jokes -- so for you people who actually READ this stuff, put up with it and/or like it, you deserve my honest solute.
You guys RULE.
Also, I am now recieving tags. Tag me as much as you want, folks. Just tag tag tag tag all the way, coz I SO don't mind the attention.
Tag me.
Go ahead.
I DEMAND it.
-
-
Extra hugs for the person sending most tags?? Anyone?
Tagged by Mel
1- What's in your wallet?
...not much at the moment. Sad face.
2- What's under your bed?
ANOTHER BED! ...and dust mites, I should say.
3- What's on that way top shelf or in the very far back of your closet?
Ermm... trash. Haha.
4- What's in your underware drawer?
Underwear. And, just like Mel: MONEY!
5- What's in the trunk of your car?
IF I had owned a car, it would most probably be a tool box. OR a dead body.
6- What's in your desk or locker?
Bundles of tissue. Money. Gum. Chocolate. Diary.
7- Do you have a super-secret hiding place and what's in it?
Yes. There are super secret tissues in it!
8- Do you feel guilty about something right now, if yes what?
I feel no guilt.
9- What is the most embarassing thing in your room right now?
My old stuffed bear, Jaja. She's covered in dust. Poor baby.
10- Have you done something recently you hope no one finds out about?
Not... recently...
11- What is your last thought before you fall asleep?
Candycanes and rainbows and Ryan Higa in a field of sunshine and happiness.
12- How long have those leftovers been in the fridge?
LONG.
13- If I confiscated your computer and took a look around....what would I find?
Smutty fanfiction. Smutty fanart. Music.
14- Do you sleep with anything?
Pyjamas. Pillow(s). Jaja the pink bear. Blanket. Ryan Higa in my head. Music on.
15- What is your midnight snack weakness?
Cheesecake or maybe a Dunkin Doughnut.
16- Have you ever you shop lifted?
Nope.
17- Have you ever vandalized anything?
Does scribbling on my table count as vandalism?
18- Ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?
Hush-hush, darling.
19- What do you wait until no one is looking to do?
Sleep.
20- Have you told the truth in this survey?
All the way, baby.
...not much at the moment. Sad face.
2- What's under your bed?
ANOTHER BED! ...and dust mites, I should say.
3- What's on that way top shelf or in the very far back of your closet?
Ermm... trash. Haha.
4- What's in your underware drawer?
Underwear. And, just like Mel: MONEY!
5- What's in the trunk of your car?
IF I had owned a car, it would most probably be a tool box. OR a dead body.
6- What's in your desk or locker?
Bundles of tissue. Money. Gum. Chocolate. Diary.
7- Do you have a super-secret hiding place and what's in it?
Yes. There are super secret tissues in it!
8- Do you feel guilty about something right now, if yes what?
I feel no guilt.
9- What is the most embarassing thing in your room right now?
My old stuffed bear, Jaja. She's covered in dust. Poor baby.
10- Have you done something recently you hope no one finds out about?
Not... recently...
11- What is your last thought before you fall asleep?
Candycanes and rainbows and Ryan Higa in a field of sunshine and happiness.
12- How long have those leftovers been in the fridge?
LONG.
13- If I confiscated your computer and took a look around....what would I find?
Smutty fanfiction. Smutty fanart. Music.
14- Do you sleep with anything?
Pyjamas. Pillow(s). Jaja the pink bear. Blanket. Ryan Higa in my head. Music on.
15- What is your midnight snack weakness?
Cheesecake or maybe a Dunkin Doughnut.
16- Have you ever you shop lifted?
Nope.
17- Have you ever vandalized anything?
Does scribbling on my table count as vandalism?
18- Ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?
Hush-hush, darling.
19- What do you wait until no one is looking to do?
Sleep.
20- Have you told the truth in this survey?
All the way, baby.
Moving Day
Tomorrow (a Friday, by the way) is moving day (as you might have guessed)! Oh, yes. Between the hesitant, "this friday" to the unsure, "no, the next one", we have finally decided to get moving the HELL over with.
To say I am simply ecstatic about such... spontaneous a decision, though... is... very much the lie of the century.
I hate stuffing my junk into stupid cardboard boxes, hitching the road, and finally slumping over onto the floor only to reopen said stupid cardboard boxes full of said junk. Ugh. Disgusting, tiring process.... seriously.
Anyways, considering that this may (very possibly) be my last blog post for a while, I decided, heck yeah, I SHOULD do my loyal (cough) readers (cough cough) some justice...
...right?
(Readers yell, "NOOOO!" in the background)
...right.
So here it is: my very last blog post for... God knows how long.
Thursday, June 27th, 2008.
Hot, sticky, and incredibly drowsy.
Sofia and I were standing outside near my usual waiting spot, waiting, of course, for my dear, darling mumsy to pick me up from school. There was a satay vendor to our left, and soft, slightly annoying bursts of wind kept messing my freshly cut hair; sweeping my fringe into my eyes, making me, "tsk" in irritation.
The gentle aroma of smoked fish-on-a-stick kept caressing my nostrils, teasing coyly my all ready starving stomach.
There we waited. Me and Sofia. Talking... Waiting. Standing. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
Nine -- oops, scratch that -- eight minutes passed 1pm.
Where the hell was she?
Sofia turned to me, a sort of smug expression on her face as she said, "I can so not imagine you walking." (or something equally close to the lines, laa)
I fumed.
"Of COURSE I can walk!" I replied, rising to the bait like a stupid, worm-on-a-hook swallowing fish. "Come on -- I'll show you!"
And so... after hardly any thought (five minutes of hesitancy is NOTHING compared to my usual 2.5 hours), Sofia and I walked.
At the peak of the day. Through the heat. The sweat. The humidity.
By, God.
I. WALKED.
GASP!!!
So, anyways, walking... walking. We met up with Kai Jing and no sooner added him to our group of walkin'... rebellions (in this modern world of airplanes and cars and stuff, we HAD to be rebellions to have been feet-walking our way across the street!)! We parted ways (with Kai Jing) in a while, of course, and from there... continued walking.
Walking. Walking. Nothing interesting. Walking. Walking.
Oooh, whats this? A little puppy! Golden Labrador-looking! Aww. Adorable.
Walking. Walking.
Wait.
Whats this??
Is that puppy FOLLOWING us?!
By golly, it was!
Sofia was freaking out. I myself was a tad... unsure. I mean, its not as if we had touched it or anything -- and its not as if us touching it (or should I say, "her"?) been a sin, because, after all, it was completely dry.
Nonetheless. I was in quite the fix.
Me picking it up and gently ordering it to stay put where it was would most DEFINITELY look bad to them wondering eyes. Especially the exceptionally "alim" ones. Oh, yes. That would be bad...
Therefore, we did the most logical, most inspirational, most smartiest thing possible:
We continued walking.
With the cute little pup at our heels.
People looked curiously at us through car windows. I saw this one Chinese family actually point -- not that I blame them. Two, very Malay, looking girls with one, very doggy looking dog, was a queer sight to behold, I am sure.
Nonetheless, we shrugged it off -- well, I did, anyways. I could practically see the wheels turn in Sofie's head. Probably figuring out a way to get rid of the "pesky mutt".
Finally, a road. A road needed to be crossed.
Our CHANCE!
Sofia and I took no mercy. We ran across to the other side. Hoping the pup would not follow us because:
a) Sofia didn't seem to like said pup
and
b) I was afraid I might be unable to resist the temptation to snatch said pup into my hands, rush it home, and keep her as my own. Questioning eyes and glares and gossip be damned!
Well. Whatever.
Our running proved pointless, it seemed because, in the end, I realized:
Cheerful yapping.
Shoot. It followed us.
And, damn, it looked so HAPPY!
"Shoo! Shoo!" went Sofie, backing off before the pup would circle her feet like it did mine (I am guilty of feeling very pleased by such a fact, by the way).
Tough luck.
It circled her.
And in turn,
Sofie did a little 360 herself. Screaming in the process. It was almost (I'm so sorry, Sofia!)... funny. If, of course, it hadn't been for the fact that:
a) the pup had STILL followed us
and
b) I really, REALLY wanted her!!!
Sofie screaming. Sofie screaming. Sofie...
OMG.
She, in her process of 360-ing on the road over to our house, had (ACCIDENTALLY, of course!), kicked the puppy!
"Yap, yap!" went the pup, looking more insulted than pissed or saddened (as one would expect it to be).
"OMG, OMG!" went Sofia, feeling automatically sorry. "I didn't mean that!"
We screamed.
Yes. WE.
I screamed too. Don't know why. But the look on that dirty little girl's face as she was kicked into the dirt ground was so real and so sad that I just HAD to do something (and that something just happened to be scream).
The pup seemed a bit resentful of Sofia after that. Choosing to follow me instead (to my innermost glee!), before...
"Thats right, puppy, follow the car," went Sofia, satisfied for the puppy as it followed its next victim.
I sighed. Two reasons:
a) I was relieved.
and
b) I was upset to have lost my very idealistic pet.
Well, thats it, I guess. The story of the little pup that followed us home. I really have GOT to finish packing (/stuffing). I have SO much more to do and, hey, guess what! We're moving... to-freaking-morrow!
UGH.
My mum is SO going to kill me...
-
-
-
Gosh, I hope the puppy is all right.
REVELATIONS
After browsing through, like about, a dozen blogs, I decided, "ehh... why not? Logging in isn't THAT much of a hassle." After all, I told myself: "Might as well savor it while it lasts; by next Friday, there will be no internet!"
If, at all there are any, readers here wondering what exactly I MEAN by me having no internet come next Friday; a stunning revelation I will now announce in my post today:
Come next Friday, I, Noor Hannah bt Mohd Nasir, will no longer be living in Aranda.
Come next Friday, I, Noor Hannah bt Mohd Nasir will be...
MOVING!!
Yeah, thats right, people: I'm moving. And, finally! We've been going back and forth from the new house to the current for centuries, its high time, I believe, we pack our belongings and move in FOR REAL.
Meep -- Can't wait, really. The airconditioning, Astro, rabbit fencing, lightings, paint jobs, renovation works, and overall house is all set -- my only problem would be the lack of internet (sob).
So, really, as I said earlier before: I shall now savor what is left of my highspeed connection before moving to a much larger internet-free house. Damn. What SHALL I do to occupy my time there anyways, I wonder?
--
--
PS: Yesterday, I just cut my hair. You'll be surprised by the new look (I know I am!).
Now Playing
Hey. Some of you might be wondering why I hadn't been blogging for quite awhile. I guess, in a way, you can say that I was busy -- but truth be told, a more appropriate answer to that would be that I was too lazy to login. I know: L.O.L. moment, isn't it?
Haven't been in the mood to blog lately as well -- seeing how I only blog when feeling devastatingly down and neurotically emo. For quite some time now I have been lulling myself to sleep with soft, soothing, happy music. Its kind of an experiment of mine -- to test whether or not music truly DOES effect your personality/attitude.
I think, in a way, it sort of kind of is working... if but a little.
I have been waking up from bed happily. Am able to do my chores without complaint. Have been studying without force from my parents.
...so, yeah.
Jason Mraz's, "I'm Yours", really DOES do wonders for the soul.
Currently, I am sick. Hadn't been able to go to tuition yesterday. And also... erm... it was report card day today. Did badly, of course (surprise, surprise!). Hopefully this is the last time. Next time I must force myself to do better.
Anyways, if you're wondering what songs I have been sleeping to, here ya go. Feel free to get them yourself. They may not suit your tastes, of course, but they really are pretty if you gave em a chance.
Jason Mraz-- I'm Yours
A Fine Frenzy-- Almost Lover
Aaron Carter (wtf, right?)-- Do You Remember
Leona Lewis-- Take a Bow
Rihanna feat Justin Timberlake-- Rehab
Secondhand Solitaire-- Why
The Fray-- Look After You
James Blunt-- 1973
James Blunt-- Carry You Home
James Blunt-- Tears and Rain
Regina Spektor-- The Call
Sydney Frost-- Once in a Blue Moon
...err... well, maybe they aren't that un-emo. Soothing nonetheless, though, right??
...yeah.
Music is...?
We're going to Langkawi tomorrow. I don't know whether or not I should be happy. I'm not that into... leaving the house and going places... and stuff. Not that I'm anti-social, of course. I mean, okay, a BIT anti-social, but... yeah, okay, y'know what? Whatever. DROPPING the subject.
Haha.
I'm listening to Snow Patrol's "Run" right now; and I must say, the song is very nice. Not the chorus as much, of course, but I love the mood in which the singer puts it. Its, like, sad and hopeful and... hopeless at the same time. I imagine the atmosphere in terms of "before parting". Its beautiful, really.
Which brings me to my topic of discussion for today (omg. she has TOPICS now?!):
Music.
I know how some people love the tune of the melody. The keys used. Perhaps even the type of music playing. The lyrics. The band/singer.
-but for me?
Its all about the story.
The story woven by a particular song is what fascinates me -- draws me in and make me melt.
What I mean to say is; the whole package in general. The voice of the singer gives tone; depth. Lyrics draw the scene; the expression of the characters. The melody/tune denotes the atmosphere -- the mood in that particular moment.
All in all, this song, "Run", draws (in my conclusion anyways) a very beautiful story.
I can imagine the main characters crying. Reminiscing. Embracing. Falling apart. Breaking.
Good stuff.
Music to me does not mean life. It does not mean, in my opinion, there is no life without music.
It just means life without the presence of music would be an unusual one. Perfect. Neutral. Boring.
Music to me is an expression. A feeling. Sensations. Whether one chooses to express such feelings by belching it out; screaming it out; rapping about it; drawling over it... that paints the picture. Makes the listener UNDERSTAND and RELATE.
See, thats why I don't have a favorite genre of music. Am not particular of bands and singers and whatnot.
I love music. Music itself.
For music, you see; is passion.
It doesn't matter how bad you sing; how horrible you play -- if you have a feeling, express it. Don't let anybody stop you because no two songs are the same. No one song, even though re-sung by two different singers; paints the same picture.
Therefore,
I guess what I'm trying to say here is:
Inject music into your veins. Your body. Your entire soul.
Taste the passion.
Haha.
I'm listening to Snow Patrol's "Run" right now; and I must say, the song is very nice. Not the chorus as much, of course, but I love the mood in which the singer puts it. Its, like, sad and hopeful and... hopeless at the same time. I imagine the atmosphere in terms of "before parting". Its beautiful, really.
Which brings me to my topic of discussion for today (omg. she has TOPICS now?!):
Music.
I know how some people love the tune of the melody. The keys used. Perhaps even the type of music playing. The lyrics. The band/singer.
-but for me?
Its all about the story.
The story woven by a particular song is what fascinates me -- draws me in and make me melt.
What I mean to say is; the whole package in general. The voice of the singer gives tone; depth. Lyrics draw the scene; the expression of the characters. The melody/tune denotes the atmosphere -- the mood in that particular moment.
All in all, this song, "Run", draws (in my conclusion anyways) a very beautiful story.
I can imagine the main characters crying. Reminiscing. Embracing. Falling apart. Breaking.
Good stuff.
Music to me does not mean life. It does not mean, in my opinion, there is no life without music.
It just means life without the presence of music would be an unusual one. Perfect. Neutral. Boring.
Music to me is an expression. A feeling. Sensations. Whether one chooses to express such feelings by belching it out; screaming it out; rapping about it; drawling over it... that paints the picture. Makes the listener UNDERSTAND and RELATE.
See, thats why I don't have a favorite genre of music. Am not particular of bands and singers and whatnot.
I love music. Music itself.
For music, you see; is passion.
It doesn't matter how bad you sing; how horrible you play -- if you have a feeling, express it. Don't let anybody stop you because no two songs are the same. No one song, even though re-sung by two different singers; paints the same picture.
Therefore,
I guess what I'm trying to say here is:
Inject music into your veins. Your body. Your entire soul.
Taste the passion.
Numerology
After stomping around, shaking off my sudden, unexplainable surge of anger; I was bored and was surfing the web. Lo and behold, people: I found myself, face-to-screen with this awesome thing called, numerology!
Its wicked cool.
They did this survey of my full name and I got this awesome in-depth result of my expression (which is, like, my unique out-take on the world and what I feel I must do as long as I'm still here), my soul urge (which is, like, the one thing in my heart and soul desperately yearns for; though nobody would actually know it) and, finally, my personality (which is how other people see me.
Coolio, right?
I've got my results right here, too! Check it:
Expression: 105 / 6
Family and home life are your main interests. You know how to nurture and accept anyone, therefore, many are drawn to you including those that others call, "strays". You have an eye for anything beautiful and your home is sure to reflect this, no matter what your budget is. You are proud of all your possessions and especially of the talents of your family members. Your generous, creative nature makes you the ideal host or guest at a party.
Soul Urge: 30 / 3
Your urge is to bring hope, joy and beauty to all you meet. You feel the best when you are in beautiful and comfortable surroundings. You have a creative essence and use your inspiration and imagination to make others happy. You enjoy attention and admiration, and you desire recognition for your talents.
Personality: 75 / 12 / 3
There seems to be a golden glow of optimism and joy around you wherever you go. You are witty and playful, and your idealistic nature irresistibly draws the little child out of everyone you meet. Ever creative and interesting to talk to, you are never long without people to cluster around your radiance. You enjoy dressing up and are very creative with accessories. You've got a style all your own, even if you don't follow fashion.
----
also, I did this birth purpose numerology test -- in which they had surveyed my birthdate. Not to say, of course, that I believe in all this phooey-balooey stuff totally 100%, but, definitely; it WAS interesting.
Sad to say, though; for both my results (my name survey and birth survey), I was not as impressed as I would like to have been. I mean, I always hoped I was destined for greater thing -- WORLDLY things, y'know? But based on the results, it seems: I'm just this homebody type person; who's main priority is merely family and friends.
Check it:
Fairness, compassion and comfort are the gifts you are here to bestow. Those needing care and nurturing will naturally be drawn to you. Whether it be human or animal it is your destiny to empathize, heal and resolve conflict. You have all of the tools to make your world a more beautiful and loving place. Domestic responsibility, aesthetic arts, and fair judgment are some of the qualities you are here to express.
As the higher octave of the number 6, "master number" 33 is the number of compassion. It is called the Christ vibration and requires self-sacrifice, courage and unwavering commitment to reform , truth and healing. You are on a "mission", and other teachers will learn from your honesty, discipline and bravery. You are here to provide sustenance for the hungry, whether it be through food, beauty, education, ministry or medicine. Yours is the path of "savior".
"Togetherness" is the theme of this cycle. You are unlikely to be alone because this is a phase of your life when partnership and sensitivity are being mastered. You are a natural networker - matching up friends with the things they need and it's the simple, yet precious joys in life that matter to you now. People, emotional connections and cooperative efforts are your priorities.
----
I checked some of my friends and family members numerology out, too. Won't tell you the results, of course (they may want to keep it a secret!), but... I will say this:
their birth purposes, expressions and soul urge seem a WHOLE lot better than MINE ever did.
(like, sob, much?)
Its wicked cool.
They did this survey of my full name and I got this awesome in-depth result of my expression (which is, like, my unique out-take on the world and what I feel I must do as long as I'm still here), my soul urge (which is, like, the one thing in my heart and soul desperately yearns for; though nobody would actually know it) and, finally, my personality (which is how other people see me.
Coolio, right?
I've got my results right here, too! Check it:
Expression: 105 / 6
Family and home life are your main interests. You know how to nurture and accept anyone, therefore, many are drawn to you including those that others call, "strays". You have an eye for anything beautiful and your home is sure to reflect this, no matter what your budget is. You are proud of all your possessions and especially of the talents of your family members. Your generous, creative nature makes you the ideal host or guest at a party.
Soul Urge: 30 / 3
Your urge is to bring hope, joy and beauty to all you meet. You feel the best when you are in beautiful and comfortable surroundings. You have a creative essence and use your inspiration and imagination to make others happy. You enjoy attention and admiration, and you desire recognition for your talents.
Personality: 75 / 12 / 3
There seems to be a golden glow of optimism and joy around you wherever you go. You are witty and playful, and your idealistic nature irresistibly draws the little child out of everyone you meet. Ever creative and interesting to talk to, you are never long without people to cluster around your radiance. You enjoy dressing up and are very creative with accessories. You've got a style all your own, even if you don't follow fashion.
----
also, I did this birth purpose numerology test -- in which they had surveyed my birthdate. Not to say, of course, that I believe in all this phooey-balooey stuff totally 100%, but, definitely; it WAS interesting.
Sad to say, though; for both my results (my name survey and birth survey), I was not as impressed as I would like to have been. I mean, I always hoped I was destined for greater thing -- WORLDLY things, y'know? But based on the results, it seems: I'm just this homebody type person; who's main priority is merely family and friends.
Check it:
Fairness, compassion and comfort are the gifts you are here to bestow. Those needing care and nurturing will naturally be drawn to you. Whether it be human or animal it is your destiny to empathize, heal and resolve conflict. You have all of the tools to make your world a more beautiful and loving place. Domestic responsibility, aesthetic arts, and fair judgment are some of the qualities you are here to express.
As the higher octave of the number 6, "master number" 33 is the number of compassion. It is called the Christ vibration and requires self-sacrifice, courage and unwavering commitment to reform , truth and healing. You are on a "mission", and other teachers will learn from your honesty, discipline and bravery. You are here to provide sustenance for the hungry, whether it be through food, beauty, education, ministry or medicine. Yours is the path of "savior".
The Life Path is divided into 3 great cycles, each governing us for specific durations throughout our life. The Seed Cycle begins at birth and colors our experiences through childhood and adolescence. During the year nearest our 28th birthday, we move into the Fruit Cycle which remains throughout the middle part of our life until the year nearest our 56th birthday, and the Harvest Cycle carries on from there. Taken all together, the Cycles show us the particular path, a sort of 'minor life path', that will lead to the fulfillment of our Life Purpose.
Seed Cycle: 7
When the 7 is the seed cycle, the child may spend much of their time alone, with their books and their ideas. Others may view them as unusual in some way. If encouraged and allowed, the 7 seed cycle can create a genius or child prodigy.
This cycle is about responsibility, duty, and serving one's fellow man. This nurturing is usually begun at home, as domesticity gives the 6 much pleasure. Beauty and harmony are sought and even fought for. The 6 may have a career as a decorator, beautician, chef, nurse or landscape architect. The most important thing during this cycle, however, is the maintaining of a happy and harmonious home life.
"Togetherness" is the theme of this cycle. You are unlikely to be alone because this is a phase of your life when partnership and sensitivity are being mastered. You are a natural networker - matching up friends with the things they need and it's the simple, yet precious joys in life that matter to you now. People, emotional connections and cooperative efforts are your priorities.
----
I checked some of my friends and family members numerology out, too. Won't tell you the results, of course (they may want to keep it a secret!), but... I will say this:
their birth purposes, expressions and soul urge seem a WHOLE lot better than MINE ever did.
(like, sob, much?)
My crazy attempt at love poetry: #2! I've been doing literature; studying texts and poems lately, so, me being me, I had to, at least, try my luck at it. Result? Failure. Complete, utter failure. I tried to make myself sound "mature", tried to inject myself with that sense of... age-old... antiquity... but, alas: the "s" in loser stands not for "success", but for "stupidity". How stupid am I to write something I have no understanding of? Something I have no passion for? The answer to that -- very. Haha.
I took pleasure,
first, in the way he held me
arms wrapping,
as if i was some sort of gift
meant for royalty
loved him
second,
in the way he would say my name,
tender lips grazing the soft edges
of my feverish cheeks,
long, graceful fingers
swooping my face upwards,
brushing me carefully,
as if i was some sort of great art
and he would hold me there
in his embrace.
with one look he made me
weaken, tumble and fall
flat on my back,
eyes wide,
breath short and ragged,
watching,
for he would look at me in that certain way
and there, he had it
had me,
all to himself
and he knew
(oh, yes. he was very certain)
That in those moments,
or whichever moments relevant,
i would allow it
allow anything
the breaking of my mind, my body
my soul.
i am not a gentle person,
not a leaf-lover or holder of hands,
am not romantic
will never be soft and sweet
like those precious girls
dressed in earthly feminity
and godly grace
but for him
for him,
i am willing
and i would allow it
for him,
i would be that porcelain doll
in the antique window
that porcelain doll i had
broken
many years ago.
him.
he was so much
while i was nothing.
he could walk bare-footed, eyes to the clouds
clothed in rag and dirt and grime
yet the stars would still shine upon him
and i would still watch,
through half-lidded eyes and tightly shut lips
the gentle wind caress his much-stroked face
the quite moon highlight his glowing eyes
as if i did not see them well enough
that disgusting, beautiful man
for he was a man
amongst boys and girls with their dolls
he was a man
amongst children and toys and sweets and smiles
he saw the world as what it was
had seen the grim
had tasted tears
he was well-worn
and often (for i am not ashamed to admit this)
i looked up to him
i wanted him
wanted him so badly,
but mostly?
i wanted to be him
i am a foolish, selfish little girl
a girl that would never understand the world through
a man’s eyes
through his eyes
for,
indeed,
he was a man.
he was a man among boys and girls and laughs and toys,
he was a man, even,
among men.
for,
as mentioned,
he had seen the world
for what it truly was
he saw me, once, too
from within his shadow
gave me one good, long look
and then...
turned away.
for,
like i’d said,
he is a man
and who am i to deny
the whim of such?
for i am but a girl
and as such,
have much left to see.
Flunk
Oh, before my whole emo post came along, I forgot to mention: I so flunked midterms. Golly, gee. Can't wait til finals, huh?
Help Me
I want you to think.
...
The next time you get into a car accident, I want you to think.
Who's life did you take? Which family member did you steal? How many lives are you affecting? How much sadness have you caused?
I am no saint.
I am a sinner (for who isn't) , and God, do I hate myself.
My greatest evil is rage. My rage is so terrible, that it corrodes my intestines. My rage is so hideous, that it eats at my soul. My rage is so consuming, that I tend to forget myself whenever it hits me. My rage in so tempting...
...that it scares me.
...
Help me
Help me for I have sinned.
Help me before I sin again.
Help me before he returns to hurt somebody else.
Help me
...for when he comes, I will not think.
...
The next time you get into a car accident, I want you to think.
Who's life did you take? Which family member did you steal? How many lives are you affecting? How much sadness have you caused?
I am no saint.
I am a sinner (for who isn't) , and God, do I hate myself.
My greatest evil is rage. My rage is so terrible, that it corrodes my intestines. My rage is so hideous, that it eats at my soul. My rage is so consuming, that I tend to forget myself whenever it hits me. My rage in so tempting...
...that it scares me.
...
Help me
Help me for I have sinned.
Help me before I sin again.
Help me before he returns to hurt somebody else.
Help me
...for when he comes, I will not think.
Reasons Why... Re-edited!
I decided to re-add the whole, "Reasons Why... I am a Loser" thing -- this time, new and improved! I suppose you could consider this as something meant as a joke; but I'm gosh-darn serious when I say I was miserable the last time I wrote this (which was last year, on my previous blog, btw).
Before I re-show it to the world, however, there is one thing I'd like to tell you. A minute thing; but, to me, incredibly face-slapping:
SOMEBODY has been snooping through MY personal stuff! Seriously; like, my diary, my internet history, my AMVs, my angst poetry, my half-written fanfiction. There is SOMEBODY in this house who doesn't have a life enough to actually find the time to look through MY personal belongings!
-and I think I know exactly who it is.
...
But anyways, here's that "Reasons Why" thing I promised you.
Enjoy, bitches.
Reasons Why.... I am a loser.
1) No one celebrates my birthday.
2) Almost 75% of my life is spent in front of the computer screen.
3) I talk to myself when I'm alone.
4) Even my alter ego has more of a life than I do.
5) I do not "cam-whore".
6) Even my rabbit hates me.
7) I make AMVs out of cartoon characters just for the heck of it.
8) I still listen to 90s music.
9) I have crushes on the non-existent.
10) People scare me.
11) I do not hold wild par-tays.
12) I do not get invited to wild par-tays.
13) I have to re-introduce myself each time I try to add someone on Friendster.
14) I envision myself as a whole different person.
15) No one likes me.
16) I am so unpopular that I don't even have enemies.
17) I hate answering the phone...
18) ...though the number of phone calls I get is close to non-existent.
19) I get nervous around other people.
20) I'm fat and lazy and haven't even gotten round to doing something about it.
21) If ever my picture shows up somewhere, no one would notice.
22) People forget I exist.
23) Rock music scares me.
24) Barbie dolls scare me.
25) I'm so pathetic that I even cry in my sleep.
26) No one bothers to say hi to me.
27) If people actually took the time to look through my personal stuff, the juiciest thing they'd find is the romance stories I had written during my free time.
28) I am an individual.
29) I do not succumb to the latest trends.
30) I have no friends.
31) I ran into a wall... quite a few times.
32) No one bothers to tell me anything.
33) My words are mostly ignored.
34) Even my mother doesn't listen to what I have to say.
35) I have been wearing the same shirt 6 days in a row.
36) My hair is always in bad condition.
37) I feel awkward even around my family.
38) I support Britney Spears and one day hope she'll make it back on top.
39) My love life is so non-existent, that I am forced to pair up fictional characters and make stories out of them through FanFiction.
40) Even I hate myself.
Before I re-show it to the world, however, there is one thing I'd like to tell you. A minute thing; but, to me, incredibly face-slapping:
SOMEBODY has been snooping through MY personal stuff! Seriously; like, my diary, my internet history, my AMVs, my angst poetry, my half-written fanfiction. There is SOMEBODY in this house who doesn't have a life enough to actually find the time to look through MY personal belongings!
-and I think I know exactly who it is.
...
But anyways, here's that "Reasons Why" thing I promised you.
Enjoy, bitches.
Reasons Why.... I am a loser.
1) No one celebrates my birthday.
2) Almost 75% of my life is spent in front of the computer screen.
3) I talk to myself when I'm alone.
4) Even my alter ego has more of a life than I do.
5) I do not "cam-whore".
6) Even my rabbit hates me.
7) I make AMVs out of cartoon characters just for the heck of it.
8) I still listen to 90s music.
9) I have crushes on the non-existent.
10) People scare me.
11) I do not hold wild par-tays.
12) I do not get invited to wild par-tays.
13) I have to re-introduce myself each time I try to add someone on Friendster.
14) I envision myself as a whole different person.
15) No one likes me.
16) I am so unpopular that I don't even have enemies.
17) I hate answering the phone...
18) ...though the number of phone calls I get is close to non-existent.
19) I get nervous around other people.
20) I'm fat and lazy and haven't even gotten round to doing something about it.
21) If ever my picture shows up somewhere, no one would notice.
22) People forget I exist.
23) Rock music scares me.
24) Barbie dolls scare me.
25) I'm so pathetic that I even cry in my sleep.
26) No one bothers to say hi to me.
27) If people actually took the time to look through my personal stuff, the juiciest thing they'd find is the romance stories I had written during my free time.
28) I am an individual.
29) I do not succumb to the latest trends.
30) I have no friends.
31) I ran into a wall... quite a few times.
32) No one bothers to tell me anything.
33) My words are mostly ignored.
34) Even my mother doesn't listen to what I have to say.
35) I have been wearing the same shirt 6 days in a row.
36) My hair is always in bad condition.
37) I feel awkward even around my family.
38) I support Britney Spears and one day hope she'll make it back on top.
39) My love life is so non-existent, that I am forced to pair up fictional characters and make stories out of them through FanFiction.
40) Even I hate myself.
Self-Stealers
You know what I hate? Okay, so there are a lot of things, but...
You know what I really, really hate?
Hypocrites. Copy-cats. Losers who don't have enough of a life that they are actually willing to steal it from somebody else. Bitches who grab that part of you that makes you you, forces it into their own pitiful bodies; mixes it up with "cool" media influences and brags on their blogs how terribly, "individualistic" they are.
Fuck you, bitch. You know who you are.
I know.
I know Jack is taking me over again.
I know how badly this sounds coming from me -- a person who is so messed up within her own mind that it isn't even pitiful anymore. I know well this fact, in fact, that I my speakers are currently blasting Mandy Moore's, "Only Hope", just so that I'd get a grip of myself.
Calm down. Breathe.
But its not working.
I'm pissed now because of a certain someone.
A certain someone who is oh so clever. A certain someone who flaunts her lame, lip-puckering pictures around on MySpace and Friendster -- hoping she'd get some dumbass recognition.
Oops.
Did I just say, "she'd"?
Well, surprise-surprise. A clue.
Who ever could it be?
Hmm. Take a good guess, bitches.
I knew her well.
You know what I really, really hate?
Hypocrites. Copy-cats. Losers who don't have enough of a life that they are actually willing to steal it from somebody else. Bitches who grab that part of you that makes you you, forces it into their own pitiful bodies; mixes it up with "cool" media influences and brags on their blogs how terribly, "individualistic" they are.
Fuck you, bitch. You know who you are.
I know.
I know Jack is taking me over again.
I know how badly this sounds coming from me -- a person who is so messed up within her own mind that it isn't even pitiful anymore. I know well this fact, in fact, that I my speakers are currently blasting Mandy Moore's, "Only Hope", just so that I'd get a grip of myself.
Calm down. Breathe.
But its not working.
I'm pissed now because of a certain someone.
A certain someone who is oh so clever. A certain someone who flaunts her lame, lip-puckering pictures around on MySpace and Friendster -- hoping she'd get some dumbass recognition.
Oops.
Did I just say, "she'd"?
Well, surprise-surprise. A clue.
Who ever could it be?
Hmm. Take a good guess, bitches.
I knew her well.
Capturing a Silent Moment
I want you to shut up.
I want everybody to just shut up.
I want the whole, friggen world to just shut the fuck up.
I am not angry, don't get me wrong -- but I am simply so sick of listening, listening, listening. I wish, just sometimes, that a moment in life could be captured, forever in a stand-still -- like one of those worn, gray photographs.
I wish I could pause between scenes. Rewind, forward. MUTE.
I want to catch your laughter. I want to keep your smile. I want to stare into your warm, inviting eyes forever -- the fact that you had been unhappy once; sad once; dead now, something I can simply put aside. For in my picture; this picture I would trace with longing fingers; this picture I would keep between the pages of my favourite fairy-tale book -- you would forever be here. With me. Breathing.
I know how crazy I must sound. I know its impossible. I know, no matter how many times I dream about it, life can never be brought into stand still.
But, honestly?
I don't care.
This is my dream. I will keep it, hold it, depend on it. For dreams are hope. Loose strings that seem hopeless to grab onto; but mean the only thing in the world.
So, once again:
I want you to shut up.
I want everybody to just shut up.
I want the whole, friggen world to just shut the fuck up.
Because the picture, alone, speaks a thousand words.
I want everybody to just shut up.
I want the whole, friggen world to just shut the fuck up.
I am not angry, don't get me wrong -- but I am simply so sick of listening, listening, listening. I wish, just sometimes, that a moment in life could be captured, forever in a stand-still -- like one of those worn, gray photographs.
I wish I could pause between scenes. Rewind, forward. MUTE.
I want to catch your laughter. I want to keep your smile. I want to stare into your warm, inviting eyes forever -- the fact that you had been unhappy once; sad once; dead now, something I can simply put aside. For in my picture; this picture I would trace with longing fingers; this picture I would keep between the pages of my favourite fairy-tale book -- you would forever be here. With me. Breathing.
I know how crazy I must sound. I know its impossible. I know, no matter how many times I dream about it, life can never be brought into stand still.
But, honestly?
I don't care.
This is my dream. I will keep it, hold it, depend on it. For dreams are hope. Loose strings that seem hopeless to grab onto; but mean the only thing in the world.
So, once again:
I want you to shut up.
I want everybody to just shut up.
I want the whole, friggen world to just shut the fuck up.
Because the picture, alone, speaks a thousand words.
Kryptonite
Another song written by your's truly. This one's called "Kryptonite".
Amongst the hurt and the lies
You will find me bent
And through the dense
Of the pain
And broken
My element
I hope you realize
What you’d said to me
I hope you realize
That I can’t breathe
When I’m around you
I feel so tired
I can’t
Speak the truth
Though it hurts
To let
You go
I’m getting weaker
Please, just go
Kryptonite
I’m no superman
Oh kryptonite
My twisted element
In your arms
Where I’m best
Close my weary eyes
And rest
Oh, kryptonite
Kryptonite
Taste the hurt
Lick my wounds
Its only right
You redeem what you’ve caused
In the dark of the night
The earth spins
In my mind
Sensing kryptonite
Why, kryptonite
Why do you do this
To me?
Oh, why
Why, kryptonite
Your breaking my walls
And leaving mark on my skin
Oh kryptonite
Tattooed against my skull
My wound
Dear kryptonite
I can’t live without you
But please go
My kryptonite
You suck my soul away
My kryptonite
Your eyes have all to say
My kryptonite
Why do
You stand in my way
My kryptonite
Have mercy
On my wounded, broken, painful, hurted state (kryptonite)
I feel you lurking inside
Ripping out that part of me
And urging it to fly
Hold on close
Take my hand
Kryptonite,
The wounded, broken, painful, hurted
...part of me that I can’t fight off
Weakest state of
Mind
Illusionary
Kryptonite.
Lifehouse- First Time
I've never been in love -- well, not really, anyways. I once had this really, REALLY intense crush, which I actually THOUGHT was love; but, honestly, I've never been in love. I heard this song a few days ago, and it actually piqued my interest. Love sounds like beautiful emotion. I mean, yeah, sure, I have love for my family members and... you know... friendly love or whatever; but romantically? Never.
It sounds fascinating, though -- and you know how I am always drawn towards the fascinating.
Anyways, the song I was talking about was this kinda old song by Lifehouse, called "First Time". I'm sure you've heard of it. Not exactly THE MOST amazing, romantic song in the world -- but it sure as hell portrayed "love" as something really... wonderful.
Here are the lyrics, anyways.
Lifehouse- First Time
We're both looking for something
We've been afraid to find
It's easier to be broken
It's easier to hide
Looking at you,holding my breath,
For once in my life,I'm scared to death,
I'm taking a chance,letting you inside.
Feeling alive all over again,
As deep as the sky, under my skin
Like being in love, she says
For the first time
Maybe I'm wrong,
But I'm feeling right where I belong
With you tonight
Like being in love
To feel for the first time
The world that I see inside you
Waiting to come to life
Waking me up to dreaming
Reality in your eyes
Looking at you,
Holding my breath,
For once in my life
I'm scared to death,
I'm taking a chance,
Letting you inside.
I'm feeling alive all over again
As deep as the sky that's under my skin
Like being in love, she says, for the first time
Maybe I'm wrong, I'm feeling right
Where I belong with you tonight
Like being in love to feel for the first time
We're crashing
Into the unknown
We're lost in this
But it feels like home
I'm feeling alive all over again
As deep as the sky that's under my skin
Like being in love, she says, for the first time
Maybe I'm wrong, I'm feeling right
Where I belong with you tonight
Like being in love to feel for the first time
It sounds fascinating, though -- and you know how I am always drawn towards the fascinating.
Anyways, the song I was talking about was this kinda old song by Lifehouse, called "First Time". I'm sure you've heard of it. Not exactly THE MOST amazing, romantic song in the world -- but it sure as hell portrayed "love" as something really... wonderful.
Here are the lyrics, anyways.
Lifehouse- First Time
We're both looking for something
We've been afraid to find
It's easier to be broken
It's easier to hide
Looking at you,holding my breath,
For once in my life,I'm scared to death,
I'm taking a chance,letting you inside.
Feeling alive all over again,
As deep as the sky, under my skin
Like being in love, she says
For the first time
Maybe I'm wrong,
But I'm feeling right where I belong
With you tonight
Like being in love
To feel for the first time
The world that I see inside you
Waiting to come to life
Waking me up to dreaming
Reality in your eyes
Looking at you,
Holding my breath,
For once in my life
I'm scared to death,
I'm taking a chance,
Letting you inside.
I'm feeling alive all over again
As deep as the sky that's under my skin
Like being in love, she says, for the first time
Maybe I'm wrong, I'm feeling right
Where I belong with you tonight
Like being in love to feel for the first time
We're crashing
Into the unknown
We're lost in this
But it feels like home
I'm feeling alive all over again
As deep as the sky that's under my skin
Like being in love, she says, for the first time
Maybe I'm wrong, I'm feeling right
Where I belong with you tonight
Like being in love to feel for the first time
Killer Headache = Mass Ranting Session
My previous post; just minutes ago, had been impeccably deep, I think. Of course, I am in thousand percent agreement to what I had just said; nonetheless, I find that ALTHOUGH this world is NOT my playground, that the earth is a battle field for which I am a worthless pawn; I have dignity enough, at least, to write about MY emotions in MY own blog, right?
Not that I'm being hypocritical or anything. I will post for the sake of the planet and human rights as much as I can, but for now... I kind of want to use this blog as a site for self expression.
I deserve that, at least, don't I?
Yes, I know.
I'm a terrible, terrible person.
Nonetheless...
...
Today I woke up with a terrible flu. My flu was so bad that I missed the morning alarm twice and actually did not realize myself ask for FOUR more minutes when my mum came to wake me about four hours later.
I was supposed to wake up at 2am, see, so that I can study physics. But, unfortunately for me, it seems; life had other plans.
And so I awoke at 6.30am -- which, to me, is considered LATE because I have to leave around 7 and I usually spend about forty minutes in the bathroom (God knows why).
Hastily brushing my teeth and lathering myself with scented chemicals (which I am sure no good will come out of), I forgot, as per usual, to brush my hair (so THATS why its always messy!). I took my breakfast quickly. Put on my socks; yada, yada, yada...
...to cut things short, I just wanted to tell you how SICK I was today.
And, no. I don't mean one of those, "emotionally sick and wounded" -- I actually meant that I was literally sick.
Haha.
Exams were a disaster.
Physics was supposed to be an easy paper -- something I am so CERTAIN I could have scored if I had only taken the initiative to have studied beforehand. Also, I had this ear-splitting headache. Seriously. My lips were dry; yet hot; as if they were on fire. My eyes were watery. My throat was parched and sore. My cheeks were flushed. My nose was runny. My neck was stiff and painful. My head was heavy and throbbing.
Everything about me screamed, "Shut the f*ck up! I wanna go HOME!" -- but of course, sitting at the back of a fully-occupied classroom, the teacher behind me so close I could have felt him/her breathing down my neck, and my midterm paper staring obnoxiously at me from atop my orange-coloured desk -- it seemed I really had no choice.
So... there I sat. For two and a half hours. Just... sitting. Blowing my nose, rubbing my face, combing my fingers through my sticky, grimy hair (insult to injury, my hair. Seriously); I had actually used up about FOUR entire tissue packets; the tissues used all considerably wet and terribly worn, scattered before me.
Yes, yes. My day could have definitely gone worst if it hadn't been for recess (thank goodness for FOOD, glorious FOOD!).
After twenty minutes of not studying, my headache actually seemed to ease itself. My temperature had decreased as well. Also, my runny nose was not as... runny... as it had been before.
A considered miracle, I gasped, of course; if it hadn't been for the fact that, ONCE AGAIN, life just had to lend a hand.
I went home with a killer stomach ache. It seemed I was vomiting on the inside. I had actually gotten this crazy urge -- after rolling around in bed; moaning about the senseless pain I was going through -- to just rip myself open and SCRUB myself from the inside out. I just felt so... so unbelievably DISGUSTED with myself that I could not BEAR to be in my own presence.
My mother, of course, just had to be helpful by sending me off to bed -- which I, of course, had no qualms into doing.
However, just as the absolute misery finally seemed to ease itself...
...my f*cking air conditioner just stopped blowing cold air!!
I was sleeping in the damn heat of our typical Malaysian weather WITH a killer headache AND a monstrous stomach ache AND the thoughts of my History exam BEING the next DAY!
Ugh!!
I just feel so... so PISSED right now.
I mean; even NOW I have a few chapters of Sejarah to go and my aircond isn't functioning well.
Good crap. I KNOW I'm supposed not to be selfish and inconsiderate of the world around me and stuff -- but, SERIOUSLY! If this is the way things are going to keep going around here, than we'll be seeing a WHOLE lot more 5000-word rant posts, now, won't we?
Not that I'm being hypocritical or anything. I will post for the sake of the planet and human rights as much as I can, but for now... I kind of want to use this blog as a site for self expression.
I deserve that, at least, don't I?
Yes, I know.
I'm a terrible, terrible person.
Nonetheless...
...
Today I woke up with a terrible flu. My flu was so bad that I missed the morning alarm twice and actually did not realize myself ask for FOUR more minutes when my mum came to wake me about four hours later.
I was supposed to wake up at 2am, see, so that I can study physics. But, unfortunately for me, it seems; life had other plans.
And so I awoke at 6.30am -- which, to me, is considered LATE because I have to leave around 7 and I usually spend about forty minutes in the bathroom (God knows why).
Hastily brushing my teeth and lathering myself with scented chemicals (which I am sure no good will come out of), I forgot, as per usual, to brush my hair (so THATS why its always messy!). I took my breakfast quickly. Put on my socks; yada, yada, yada...
...to cut things short, I just wanted to tell you how SICK I was today.
And, no. I don't mean one of those, "emotionally sick and wounded" -- I actually meant that I was literally sick.
Haha.
Exams were a disaster.
Physics was supposed to be an easy paper -- something I am so CERTAIN I could have scored if I had only taken the initiative to have studied beforehand. Also, I had this ear-splitting headache. Seriously. My lips were dry; yet hot; as if they were on fire. My eyes were watery. My throat was parched and sore. My cheeks were flushed. My nose was runny. My neck was stiff and painful. My head was heavy and throbbing.
Everything about me screamed, "Shut the f*ck up! I wanna go HOME!" -- but of course, sitting at the back of a fully-occupied classroom, the teacher behind me so close I could have felt him/her breathing down my neck, and my midterm paper staring obnoxiously at me from atop my orange-coloured desk -- it seemed I really had no choice.
So... there I sat. For two and a half hours. Just... sitting. Blowing my nose, rubbing my face, combing my fingers through my sticky, grimy hair (insult to injury, my hair. Seriously); I had actually used up about FOUR entire tissue packets; the tissues used all considerably wet and terribly worn, scattered before me.
Yes, yes. My day could have definitely gone worst if it hadn't been for recess (thank goodness for FOOD, glorious FOOD!).
After twenty minutes of not studying, my headache actually seemed to ease itself. My temperature had decreased as well. Also, my runny nose was not as... runny... as it had been before.
A considered miracle, I gasped, of course; if it hadn't been for the fact that, ONCE AGAIN, life just had to lend a hand.
I went home with a killer stomach ache. It seemed I was vomiting on the inside. I had actually gotten this crazy urge -- after rolling around in bed; moaning about the senseless pain I was going through -- to just rip myself open and SCRUB myself from the inside out. I just felt so... so unbelievably DISGUSTED with myself that I could not BEAR to be in my own presence.
My mother, of course, just had to be helpful by sending me off to bed -- which I, of course, had no qualms into doing.
However, just as the absolute misery finally seemed to ease itself...
...my f*cking air conditioner just stopped blowing cold air!!
I was sleeping in the damn heat of our typical Malaysian weather WITH a killer headache AND a monstrous stomach ache AND the thoughts of my History exam BEING the next DAY!
Ugh!!
I just feel so... so PISSED right now.
I mean; even NOW I have a few chapters of Sejarah to go and my aircond isn't functioning well.
Good crap. I KNOW I'm supposed not to be selfish and inconsiderate of the world around me and stuff -- but, SERIOUSLY! If this is the way things are going to keep going around here, than we'll be seeing a WHOLE lot more 5000-word rant posts, now, won't we?
Reality
"Somewhere on the other side of the rainbow, a child is dying."
For the longest time now, I had thought myself a caring person. Compassionate. Unselfish. Loving...
...but I see now how wrong I was.
I am neither one, nor any of the kind words used to describe a human being living on this planet. I am a horrible, horrible person, and for this, I live in shame. Pasting myself with so many false securities; I had, at one point in life, almost begun to believe in them. How sick, how twisted I am, I have come to realize at this moment.
For the longest time, I have been living in this crazy fantasy where I am the heroin. Where THEY are just side characters. Where life revolves around ME. Where occurrences are there only for MY sake.
I knew -- oh, yes, I KNEW; that out there somewhere children were dying. That somewhere in the Middle East, explosions were erupting. That young girls are being molested by their fathers. That a seventeen-year-old girl somewhere in New York had just lost her virginity to a complete stranger. That lava was spewing out from the belly of an active volcano; destroying three-years' worth of crops. That hurricanes were destroying all ready run-down homes. That families were being torn apart--
and YET
I am still here.
A selfish, insignificant, fool.
I sit and moan and whine and complain and yell and scream and cry -- for WHAT?
I am a terrible, terrible excuse of a human being. I am a monster. A heartless, hideous beast who actually BELIEVED she was looking out for the good in this world -- who actually BELIEVED she was one of the few "caring" people on this planet.
(dry laughter)
But oh, no. How wrong. How wrong I am to even THINK of such a thing. I am no better than all those people who pick up guns, aim it in the face of a total stranger -- in the face of a man who was LIVING merely SECONDS ago -- and pull the trigger.
If I can turn my head when the world is crumbling around me; if I can walk away while others DIE...
...then I am, in fact, worse.
It is time, now, that I humble myself. I am not a one-man army. Not a lone island. I cannot command myself to walk when, in fact, I hardly deserve to press my belly against cold earth and crawl. Starting from today onwards, I want to stop thinking about myself -- my problems, my happiness, my sorrow, my whatever.
Its time I stop staring at the minuscule DOT on a sheet of white paper; and take a look at the rest of the world.
And to whomever had read this; if you are just as guilty of the sins I have committed, then please. Don't hesitate to join me in my cause. I hope this post has opened your eyes, for I know, without question, that it had my own.
...together we shall make the world a better place.
For the longest time now, I had thought myself a caring person. Compassionate. Unselfish. Loving...
...but I see now how wrong I was.
I am neither one, nor any of the kind words used to describe a human being living on this planet. I am a horrible, horrible person, and for this, I live in shame. Pasting myself with so many false securities; I had, at one point in life, almost begun to believe in them. How sick, how twisted I am, I have come to realize at this moment.
For the longest time, I have been living in this crazy fantasy where I am the heroin. Where THEY are just side characters. Where life revolves around ME. Where occurrences are there only for MY sake.
I knew -- oh, yes, I KNEW; that out there somewhere children were dying. That somewhere in the Middle East, explosions were erupting. That young girls are being molested by their fathers. That a seventeen-year-old girl somewhere in New York had just lost her virginity to a complete stranger. That lava was spewing out from the belly of an active volcano; destroying three-years' worth of crops. That hurricanes were destroying all ready run-down homes. That families were being torn apart--
and YET
I am still here.
A selfish, insignificant, fool.
I sit and moan and whine and complain and yell and scream and cry -- for WHAT?
I am a terrible, terrible excuse of a human being. I am a monster. A heartless, hideous beast who actually BELIEVED she was looking out for the good in this world -- who actually BELIEVED she was one of the few "caring" people on this planet.
(dry laughter)
But oh, no. How wrong. How wrong I am to even THINK of such a thing. I am no better than all those people who pick up guns, aim it in the face of a total stranger -- in the face of a man who was LIVING merely SECONDS ago -- and pull the trigger.
If I can turn my head when the world is crumbling around me; if I can walk away while others DIE...
...then I am, in fact, worse.
It is time, now, that I humble myself. I am not a one-man army. Not a lone island. I cannot command myself to walk when, in fact, I hardly deserve to press my belly against cold earth and crawl. Starting from today onwards, I want to stop thinking about myself -- my problems, my happiness, my sorrow, my whatever.
Its time I stop staring at the minuscule DOT on a sheet of white paper; and take a look at the rest of the world.
And to whomever had read this; if you are just as guilty of the sins I have committed, then please. Don't hesitate to join me in my cause. I hope this post has opened your eyes, for I know, without question, that it had my own.
...together we shall make the world a better place.
My Tragic Hero
I don't know what I was thinking when I just wrote what I did. Some sick, twisted song which I imagine viewing from the eyes of an equally sick, twisted drug-addict. The beat is kind of... well, dark. Sung in this crazy, rapid-type way. Just picture your mind half-drunk, hazy; and that you're about to die in a matter of minutes -- thats exactly what I did.
My tragic hero
Tastes like pure ecstasy
Hope faith and passion
Don’t mean a thing
My tragic hero
Hope you make room for me
Before you close my eyes
This is the last time that I play a song for you
This is the last time that I spill my heart
My soul keeps bleeding bleeding and bleeding bleeding
I don’t know what to do
My tragic hero
You’re ripping me apart.
My tragic hero,
Where did you go, last night?
Gave me some pleasure, then left to die (okay)
My tragic hero,
You hold and protect, despite
My tragic hero,
You left me to DIE
This is the last time that I play my songs for you
This is the last time, I hope I’ve made my point
Coz I’m so sick and tired
My mind so wired
Please understand
I can’t be your heroine
And take me hostage
Just for one night
And hold me closely
I’m taking the plunge, with you on my right
Moan, for I am exhausted
Cry, my despair
Scream, scream in agony
My tragic hero,
I can always depend on...
Moan, for you’re exhausted
And
Yell, a yell of truth
Don’t
Cry, tears of despair
This ain’t for me, its all for you
This is the last time that I play my songs for you
This is the last time that I make mistake
I can’t keep bleeding bleeding and bleeding bleeding
There’s so much I can take
My tragic hero,
Quit keeping me awake
My tragic hero...
...together we shall sleep.
Sleepy
The stage is set. The audience is waiting. The script is prepared. The plot is flawless. The main actress... wants nothing to do with it.
Hi, my name is Hannah.
Not Courtney, not Jack, not emo, bimbo, wacko-freak, foo', petunia, llama -- just Hannah.
Most people look at me and see this... person... who would never stand up for herself. See this shy, timid individual. People who "get to know" me think I'm this insane, wacky girl who just never seems to grow up. People who "understand" me -- a very, very limited number -- find that I am this complex being who's mood is forever shifting towards the extremes.
But who am I really? Who, really, knows the real me?
Tonight I am sick of acting. Sick of being this somebody I'm not. Sick of wrapping myself up, so intensely, in these... these alter-egos. Sometimes, I don't even know myself anymore.
Its confusing. Depressing. Exhausting -- these switch persona's of mine. I'm becoming so much of somebody I am not, that I am forgetting who I really am:
Hannah.
But again, who, or what, makes me, Hannah Nasir, Hannah Nasir?
Moments like these, for one. Sitting reminiscing over life. Absorbed in thought. Overcome with content. Brief satisfaction. A mere pit-stop in which I allow myself moment to catch my breath before plunging, head-first, into the icy waters of my other halves.
Tonight, however, I am taking a break. I'm sick and tired of pretending -- always, always pretending. Sick and tired of listening -- always, always listening. Sick and tired of nodding my head in understanding, offering words of advice, smiling, acting all perky, secluding myself in a corner whenever I am pissed.
Truth is, I am not happy. Not miserable or angry or as clueless as I make myself look, either.
In truth, I am this... entity... who is so tainted by the outside world. The real me wants freedom. Longs solitude. Yearns content, satisfaction, relief.
The real me...
...just really, really wants to go to sleep.
Hi, my name is Hannah.
Not Courtney, not Jack, not emo, bimbo, wacko-freak, foo', petunia, llama -- just Hannah.
Most people look at me and see this... person... who would never stand up for herself. See this shy, timid individual. People who "get to know" me think I'm this insane, wacky girl who just never seems to grow up. People who "understand" me -- a very, very limited number -- find that I am this complex being who's mood is forever shifting towards the extremes.
But who am I really? Who, really, knows the real me?
Tonight I am sick of acting. Sick of being this somebody I'm not. Sick of wrapping myself up, so intensely, in these... these alter-egos. Sometimes, I don't even know myself anymore.
Its confusing. Depressing. Exhausting -- these switch persona's of mine. I'm becoming so much of somebody I am not, that I am forgetting who I really am:
Hannah.
But again, who, or what, makes me, Hannah Nasir, Hannah Nasir?
Moments like these, for one. Sitting reminiscing over life. Absorbed in thought. Overcome with content. Brief satisfaction. A mere pit-stop in which I allow myself moment to catch my breath before plunging, head-first, into the icy waters of my other halves.
Tonight, however, I am taking a break. I'm sick and tired of pretending -- always, always pretending. Sick and tired of listening -- always, always listening. Sick and tired of nodding my head in understanding, offering words of advice, smiling, acting all perky, secluding myself in a corner whenever I am pissed.
Truth is, I am not happy. Not miserable or angry or as clueless as I make myself look, either.
In truth, I am this... entity... who is so tainted by the outside world. The real me wants freedom. Longs solitude. Yearns content, satisfaction, relief.
The real me...
...just really, really wants to go to sleep.
Fatter
Omg. In the past... day... I, Noor Hannah Nasir, must have gained a LOT of weight! Ugh! And I was JUST about to congratulate myself!! Stupid, stupid, STUPID. I mean, seriously. I go off to my grandparents' house in TWO days, and they feed me like crazy, NOW look at me!!!
Sob.
I'm... FAT...
...
...
...-ter.
Sob.
I'm... FAT...
...
...
...-ter.
Touch
I feel... spiritual today. I'm not sure why, but I suddenly have this sudden burst of liquid energy to just jump out of my seat and touch somebody (though, of course, I won't do it; I'll probably send that unlucky somebody screaming out the window). Not the intimate, intense, passionate type touch, mind you -- simply, the type of touch where I place my hand against another and share smiles.
Oh, yes. I am feeling happy today.
And as I -- a person who rarely feels anything other that nothing -- am filled with this unnatural flare of mirth, I find it only thoughtful to SHARE my happiness with perhaps anyone else.
Crazy? Yes, I know.
But won't it be rewarding to have somebody else share your unexpected glee? How wonderful! And, yeah, I am aware of how super un-Hannah-ish I am acting right now. Not to worry; if for one reason or another you miss the "TRUE" me, then I can assure you, this happiness will not last.
Anyways, come on, then!
...Touch.
Sleep-ridden
I am soooo sleepy. But I can't sleep. Haha. Exams are next week and, like, guess what! I HAVE NOT studied yet! Yay, me!
Feel for Me.
Right now, as I sit in front of the computer screen, the air conditioning is turned off, I have wrapped myself up in a comforter, and I am literally shivering. As in, teeth-chattering shivering.
I am shivering so badly, in fact, that I am hardly able to breathe.
So help me. Breathe for me. Cry for me -- because we lost. First round, we're out. My last chance, and I blew it. I should be feeling awful, should be depressed right now; but, seriously? I can't bring myself up to that. In fact, I can hardly FEEL.
So if you care even the slightest bit...
...feel for me.
I am shivering so badly, in fact, that I am hardly able to breathe.
So help me. Breathe for me. Cry for me -- because we lost. First round, we're out. My last chance, and I blew it. I should be feeling awful, should be depressed right now; but, seriously? I can't bring myself up to that. In fact, I can hardly FEEL.
So if you care even the slightest bit...
...feel for me.
melting and moaning.
Oh my God. Public Speaking -- TOMORROW. Debate? MONDAY.
I... am... so screwed.
I feel like knocking my own lights out with a fricken' piano bench; atleast, AFTER David Cook has finished his rendition of Mariah Carey's "You'll Always be My Baby." I mean, seriously -- most romantic song EVER. The way he sings it -- so smooth, so sultry -- what girl wouldn't melt, honestly? If anyone ever played me that song (coughcertainsomeonecough), I'd just die with happiness...
You know, IF I make it pass tomorrow.
I... am... so screwed.
I feel like knocking my own lights out with a fricken' piano bench; atleast, AFTER David Cook has finished his rendition of Mariah Carey's "You'll Always be My Baby." I mean, seriously -- most romantic song EVER. The way he sings it -- so smooth, so sultry -- what girl wouldn't melt, honestly? If anyone ever played me that song (coughcertainsomeonecough), I'd just die with happiness...
You know, IF I make it pass tomorrow.
Tagged Myself Through Haida
Tagged myself through Haida:
1. What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?
Vanilla.
2. Cable or Satellite?
Satellite Cable.
3. Favorite video game?
Kingdom Hearts. Final Fantasy. X-Men.
4. Do you have to sleep with a fan on at night?
Air-cond, preferably. But, yes. Can't stand the weather.
5. Your feelings on global warming?
It sucks. We should do something about it before its too late.
6. Do you still have a VCR somewhere?
Yes. It doesn't work, though.
7. Been on a sailboat?
Sailboats are for worms.
8. Two of your best friends are fighting. Your reaction?
As usual, I'll take the awkward role as middle person.
9. Home Depot or Lowes?
Sorry, I'm from Kansas. :D
10. Beer or Hard Liquor?
I don't drink, thanks.
11. Best movie you’ve seen recently?
The Pursuit to Happiness.
12. Would you walk across broken glass for $100?
If I was desperate, yes.
13. Your feelings on dolphins?
The most intelligent creatures on the planet. So loving and forgiving. Haters should just drop dead.
14. Would you ever rob a bank?
Desperate times, desperate measures. Probably.
15. Do you plan out your day before it begins?
My day is always the same. Who needs planning?
16. What kind of digital camera do you have?
I have no idea.
17. Can you fall asleep with your eyes open?
I wouldn't know, would I? I'd be asleep, after all.
18. Winter or Summer?
At the moment, winter -- since summer in Malaysia is, like, everyday.
19. Your ex’s car breaks down and they ask you for a lift. Your response?
Depends on how we broke up -- ahh, I'd give him the lift, anyways.
20. Your feelings on Britney?
Her change was upsetting, but inevitable, I suppose. I hope she emerges a stronger individual through her recent... problems.
21. Do you go to the gym regularly?
Why d'you think I'm fat? Seriously.
22. Ever play with model trains?
I never understood model trains.
23. You’ve just bought a new house. What color will you paint the walls in the living room?
A tan-ish color, I think. Or something warm.
24. Best subject in school?
English...?
25. What are your goals for this year?
Make debate nationals -- though I hardly find that possible.
26. Do you spread false rumors about people just for the hell of it?
Hell no.
27. Do you consider yourself religious?
Hardly. Though I'd never commit myself to suicide, or underage sex, or anything else major.
28. Internet Explorer or Firefox?
Depends, really. Firefox, at the moment, since it doesn't hang as much.
29. Ever play online poker?
No.
30. For real money?
I don't play.
31. Describe the first house you lived in.
Messy.
32. Do you want to kick someone in the face right now?
Paula Abdul or Hailey Scarnato -- I hate them bitches.
33. Favorite sport to watch?
I don't watch sport.
34. You see someone running around naked in the street. Your reaction?
Walk away. Fast.
35. How much syrup do you put on your waffles and/or pancakes for breakfast?
A lot.
36. Favorite junk food?
I love Rollercoaster.
37. Bottled water. Yes or no?
Why not.
38. Do you have a lot of candles in your room?
No.
39. Are the files in your computer well organized or all over the place?
Well organized.
40. Are there dogs barking in your neighborhood right now?
No.
41. Where would you most like to be right now?
In the Carribeans. Somewhere under the stars.
42. Do you own a sleeping bag?
Yes.
43. UFC. Entertaining or stupid
What?
44. Favorite reality show?
American Idol. And, admittedly, America's Next Top Model.
45. What was the first CD you ever bought?
Ashlee Simpson's Autobiography (those were the confusing days).
46. Are all infomercials completely pointless?
Not exactly -- but I hardly thinks anyone cares.
47. Who are you voting for in 2008?
I don't vote, darling.
48. If money was no object, what car would you drive?
Something classy, like a Porche.
49. Last 5 played songs in your Itunes playlist?
I no longer own an Itunes.
50. Was this survey random enough for you?
Not exactly. This was pretty normal.
1. What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?
Vanilla.
2. Cable or Satellite?
Satellite Cable.
3. Favorite video game?
Kingdom Hearts. Final Fantasy. X-Men.
4. Do you have to sleep with a fan on at night?
Air-cond, preferably. But, yes. Can't stand the weather.
5. Your feelings on global warming?
It sucks. We should do something about it before its too late.
6. Do you still have a VCR somewhere?
Yes. It doesn't work, though.
7. Been on a sailboat?
Sailboats are for worms.
8. Two of your best friends are fighting. Your reaction?
As usual, I'll take the awkward role as middle person.
9. Home Depot or Lowes?
Sorry, I'm from Kansas. :D
10. Beer or Hard Liquor?
I don't drink, thanks.
11. Best movie you’ve seen recently?
The Pursuit to Happiness.
12. Would you walk across broken glass for $100?
If I was desperate, yes.
13. Your feelings on dolphins?
The most intelligent creatures on the planet. So loving and forgiving. Haters should just drop dead.
14. Would you ever rob a bank?
Desperate times, desperate measures. Probably.
15. Do you plan out your day before it begins?
My day is always the same. Who needs planning?
16. What kind of digital camera do you have?
I have no idea.
17. Can you fall asleep with your eyes open?
I wouldn't know, would I? I'd be asleep, after all.
18. Winter or Summer?
At the moment, winter -- since summer in Malaysia is, like, everyday.
19. Your ex’s car breaks down and they ask you for a lift. Your response?
Depends on how we broke up -- ahh, I'd give him the lift, anyways.
20. Your feelings on Britney?
Her change was upsetting, but inevitable, I suppose. I hope she emerges a stronger individual through her recent... problems.
21. Do you go to the gym regularly?
Why d'you think I'm fat? Seriously.
22. Ever play with model trains?
I never understood model trains.
23. You’ve just bought a new house. What color will you paint the walls in the living room?
A tan-ish color, I think. Or something warm.
24. Best subject in school?
English...?
25. What are your goals for this year?
Make debate nationals -- though I hardly find that possible.
26. Do you spread false rumors about people just for the hell of it?
Hell no.
27. Do you consider yourself religious?
Hardly. Though I'd never commit myself to suicide, or underage sex, or anything else major.
28. Internet Explorer or Firefox?
Depends, really. Firefox, at the moment, since it doesn't hang as much.
29. Ever play online poker?
No.
30. For real money?
I don't play.
31. Describe the first house you lived in.
Messy.
32. Do you want to kick someone in the face right now?
Paula Abdul or Hailey Scarnato -- I hate them bitches.
33. Favorite sport to watch?
I don't watch sport.
34. You see someone running around naked in the street. Your reaction?
Walk away. Fast.
35. How much syrup do you put on your waffles and/or pancakes for breakfast?
A lot.
36. Favorite junk food?
I love Rollercoaster.
37. Bottled water. Yes or no?
Why not.
38. Do you have a lot of candles in your room?
No.
39. Are the files in your computer well organized or all over the place?
Well organized.
40. Are there dogs barking in your neighborhood right now?
No.
41. Where would you most like to be right now?
In the Carribeans. Somewhere under the stars.
42. Do you own a sleeping bag?
Yes.
43. UFC. Entertaining or stupid
What?
44. Favorite reality show?
American Idol. And, admittedly, America's Next Top Model.
45. What was the first CD you ever bought?
Ashlee Simpson's Autobiography (those were the confusing days).
46. Are all infomercials completely pointless?
Not exactly -- but I hardly thinks anyone cares.
47. Who are you voting for in 2008?
I don't vote, darling.
48. If money was no object, what car would you drive?
Something classy, like a Porche.
49. Last 5 played songs in your Itunes playlist?
I no longer own an Itunes.
50. Was this survey random enough for you?
Not exactly. This was pretty normal.
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