Nice guys finish last

"...And in the rush of adrenaline and swirling endorphins, I feel perversely caged, because parents’ blessings to do Masters in Scriptwriting or not, the keys to my manacles are still somewhere in this maze that is my music course. Which probably heightens my conviction that the world is conspiring against me, it puts into my mouth the lemony taste of the life I longed to have then turns around and pours the bitter espresso of reality down my throat. Curse it. I can already feel its gluttony devouring my enthusiasm..."

Want to read more of it? Too bad. Because I am not sharing it with you. 

I found the Stairway to Heaven

Summer is here. Summer is finally here <3

Hallelujah. 

Heart of Life

I cannot believe I now get to do things that I can only dream of a couple of months back.

First collaborating with Eu Chern, Joanna, Jing Hua, Jyh Ling, Amanda and Xe Linn on a project I have dreamed of since the day words became more than just a string of alphabets, I am honored to be making this trip with you. And whether we know it or not, the journey has begun (:

Then came my lecturer’s invitation to write for a newsletter she is going to publish at the end of June, after the seminar she is encouraging me to join, not that I am hesitating to do so. All I ever wanted before was for her to notice how much I love writing, but this, man, this is beyond my wildest dreams.

Writing has given me way more than I have asked for. 

I'm yours, faithfully

My parents will never understand what it is like being with you guys, why I love you so much.

I am not saying I do not enjoy being with my college friends but with the 6 of you, I am whole. With you, I am both yin and yang, I am an adult as much as a child, I am me and part of you, I am the Queen of everything I believe in. It does not matter I am nobody to everyone else, as long as I am somebody to you, and vice versa.

It is relieving being a child again with a certain bunch of friends, striving to be childishly irresponsible and reliving all that I have thrown away in the process of growing up. It is refreshing being a matured individual among another group of friends, learning to be who I should be now and reaching for the ropes that will swing me to the role I should be ascending into soon. But the thing is, as much as I have equal dosage of both each day, the mixture does not provide the exhilaration as ours do. We frequent between the extremities of childishness and maturity with the spasticity of a seismic monitor graphing an impending 9.0 earthquake.

It is assuring to be guided and groomed into the musician that I should be, to be surrounded by really amazing people who practically are walking manuals of how-to-be-a-great-musician. All I have to do is ask, and the same goes to anyone who turns to me for help (though I do not know why they would ask me, considering my lack of mastery in musicianship skills). But what if I do not want to be a musician for a while? What if I want to be the writer that I truly am, the science student I used to be, a book critique, the food lover when my gluttony calls or an imaginary character in many of our role-playing stints? Sometimes, I am just so tired of being caged up as a musician because I cannot be anybody else in college.

Everyone around me seems to be so comfortable in being who they are that they thought that I am being too stubborn and naïve to move on with my life, that I refuse to let new people in because I cling on to the past and all the friends I made then. I AM living in the present, I LOVE my college friends and people I have met since 2008, I DO appreciate what I have now. But some things can never change, will never.

And sometimes, I spend all my available time during the weekend of my Sluts not just because I want to be free of all the music shit and be truly happy for a moment, but also because I want to show my parents that we, Les Sluts, can be forever.

Stop right there, thank you very much

Like everything else, childishness has a limit point. I have reached mine. Can I be an adult for now?

You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.

I have impossible dreams. But right now, they don't seem that far fetched anymore. And the most beautiful thing is, I am not alone, because the people I love are sharing it with me. We will keep it as a secret for the moment, partially due to my belief of jinxing a spoken dream, other half due to the fact that we have got a long climb to the top. But we will get there. Then, only then, we will be a dream.

Music may be my reality, but this amazing idea, is my dream. Our dream. And God knows I need something to live for right now.

"If you don't have something to live for, you'll have nothing to die for."
Here's a toast to our imagination and the awesome adventures we will have!

Toxic

Yet another visit to the Emergency Ward.

Apparently there was liquid in that little reddish bubble of swelling on my new scar, like an accursed blister.

So the doctor did what I had always imagined myself doing to blisters on my feet: he stuck a needle into the infected area and sucked out the liquid with a syringe. Amazing. I had always wanted to attempt that with blisters but thought it was just some morbid desire of mine to get rid of them in a fast way, not, you know, an actual procedure. I sound like I have doctor instincts or something. Yay?

Anyway, I hated it when he was done with clearing the bump (thank God it was not pus or it might have spelt another surgery) and he started pressing a gauze against the scar to drain it of excessive blood that was probably tainted. While I sort of giggled hysterically as the liquid was being extracted, I began eeek-ing and whimpering in pain throughout the process of un-bloodying the wound. The doctor’s conversation with me about my music course to distract me did not really help either. It still hurt, damn it.

But fire always turns to ashes and the pain faded as soon as the pressure of the gauze lifted. And the nurses began the methodical process of dressing the wound. I had seen it done so many times that I actually knew the steps. Ugh. Not the type of information I really cherish having, despite it coming helpful when I need it.

I am just praying that this Emergency-Ward-visiting ordeal will end this week. Hopefully this tomorrow’s appointment there will be the last.