I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles

In our eyes are mirror images and when

We kiss they're perfectly aligned.

deb no voice = sian

deb no voice = sian

i love working with you evadne!
most of all i love you (: (:

today i got lost

and almost lost it.

but today was a double rainbow day and it was enough.

maybe things are turning around

maybe i can spend the whole boring week without you

and still feel fuzzy wuzzy inside

just maybe.

trying not to think about results day...............

steph, ben & yx crashing camp tmr! whoopee! no campfire! double whoopee!

shakespeare in the park

ANYBODY INTERESTED TO GO SEE MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING TEXT MEEEEEEE!

go here

http://www.srt.com.sg/

everything everything will be just fine.

1 mar, surf and sweat.

2 - 6 mar, first back-to-back stint

6 mar, results?!?!

7 mar, first payday of the year.

all the good/bad things in a row! sigh.

i think i am a whole lot braver when you're around.

i feel like i am forever waiting for something to happen

and nothing happens

oh drabby life

.

.

.

I lean against the wind

Pretend that I am weightless

And in this moment I am happy... happy.

where do we go from here?

ok something stupid.

i was playing with my lotion bottle (the squeeze type) cos everytime you squeeze then got air come out then my fringe fly. so fun right? and then suddenly, splat. big blob on my nose.

good game.

hold fast i am letting go

i havent had a nice IM conversation in ages. but today i did (:

i think we've stopped falling in s t e    p 

路太弯

我可以占有你眼睛全部的视线

你得心有一部份我却看不见... ...

i don't

i don't know

i'm scared.

i feel incredibly sad.

and it is amazing how i try to alleviate it

and fail.

omg sudden influx of weird instructors (nisha?!!?!?!!). not good.

i can breathe now that vday is finally over.

some nights i cannot bear to be so alone. this was one of them. you get to a certain age and you realise that you have been spending your working years on life-support being transfused against loneliness and only pretending to be alive. and except for the occasional tabloid photographer, nobody is really looking as you get into your car, your fabulous car, already to drunk to drive, and you drive into a bar where nobody knows you, so that you can listen in on the other people who don't have to be there alone. all of this can happen in your hometown. it can happen to anyone.

elliot perlman, seven types of ambiguity.

cleaned my favourite machine.

macbook you sexy you look like woooh!

macbook you pretty you look like woooh!

macbook you cutecute you look like woooh!

whogashaga whogashaga wooooooohh!

sorry, still on a post-camp high.

 

today we are halfway there but 

you are not here.

must love kids

sigh i look like one of them......

but am a happy (although underpaid and overworked) campinstructor!

i wrote a long letter. but how do you mail it to a jungle?

mhmmm.

camp tomorrow!

excitingzx.

double sigh.

haha domesticated new age male!

Variations On The Word Love

Then there's the two
of us. This word
is far too short for us, it has only
four letters, too sparse
to fill those deep bare
vacuums between the stars
that press on us with their deafness.
It's not love we don't wish
to fall into, but that fear.
this word is not enough but it will
have to do. It's a single
vowel in this metallic
silence, a mouth that says
O again and again in wonder
and pain, a breath, a finger
grip on a cliffside. You can
hold on or let go.

Margaret Atwood

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

today i learnt the falseness of happiness.

oh emm gee you're a turd !

i give up

i am not going to try anymore

i hope everything goes according to plan............

considering the lousy planner that i am. 

whir

whirr

whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

if now and then we encounter pages that explode, pages that wound and sear, that wring groans and tears and curses, know that they come from a man with his back up, a man whose only defenses left are his words and his words are always stronger than the lying, crushing weight of the world, stronger than all the racks and wheels which the cowardly invent to crush out the miracle of personality. if any man dared ever to translate all that is in his heart, to put down what is really his experience, what is truly his truth, i think then the world would go to smash, that it would be blown to smithereens and no god, no accident, no will could ever assemble the pieces, the atoms, the indestructible elements that have gone to make up the world.

henry miller