tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229430992024-03-22T10:40:45.164+08:00The time bomb's ticking.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.comBlogger322125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-77518930232520818312011-08-13T02:59:00.000+08:002011-08-13T03:05:47.469+08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" >Dear you,</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Feel better.
<br />
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Sincerely,
<br />
<br />Me.</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-48629161516678991542011-08-12T01:05:00.000+08:002011-08-12T01:06:43.951+08:00Wave (I)<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; ">I thought I had forgotten the sounds of a hospital ward but guess not, that memory of a frail looking hero I once knew lying on a hospital bed is still etched in my head. I thought I smelt your scent in the house today, but of course, there was nobody there. I can still hear you clear your throat the way you used to. I can still remember you.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >爸爸,你最近还好吧?</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-88532911209146279922011-05-26T18:36:00.002+08:002011-05-26T19:13:22.745+08:00eh got no tittle<span class="Apple-style-span" >JOHN's verbal diarrhea:</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >i dont know how to blog. im using one hand to type. i hope andrew comes before I forget what im suppose to remind Sara. So yeah. meh. meh. the puppy has kutu. like putu mayam. and gula melaka. k bai.</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-19513514766359494392011-05-18T23:14:00.001+08:002011-05-18T23:15:59.828+08:00Things that annoy me #1<span class="Apple-style-span" >It's annoying that people make a certain face when you say something they don't really agree with or like.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Best part was, I caught that person during the act today.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-12108759022555827092011-05-12T22:33:00.000+08:002011-05-14T04:51:11.557+08:00Today<span class="Apple-style-span" >Messed up. Big time.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Now what?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-33515999301504159972011-05-07T13:51:00.002+08:002011-05-07T14:04:47.879+08:00What's left<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">You remember me right?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Remember when we went everywhere together? When we held each other's stuff, walked to places together, liked and disliked the same people.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >You remember me right?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Remember when I talked back to you and mama stood up for me? When you two got into a big fight afterwards, and mama ended up crying in her room and I cried cause I was young and didn't know what to do.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >You remember me right?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Remember when we used to play monopoly? When we used to play house, lay on each other's laps and stayed up late watching the telly hoping our parents never found out.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >You remember me right?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Remember when you used to call me "Terminator"? When I was still the kid who ran around with hair growing towards the sky, chasing after you cause you called me names.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >You remember me right?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Remember when I rang you up and asked if you were talking about me on the bus? When I thought you had a thing for me, and we had this long talk about that girl you're still in love with up till now.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >You remember me right?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Remember when I asked if dad would ever cheat on you during that one night when there was a blackout? When I used to wake you up in the middle of the night just to follow me to the toilet cause I was worried a ghost would come and get me.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >You remember me right?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Remember when I came to your place every Sunday for violin lessons? When once a wall lizard ran across my legs while I was playing my piece, and how you used to leave the nail clipper on the table cause you know I never trim my nails.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>You'll remember me right?</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >As a girl who says things on her mind without much thought, as a girl who would approach people to strike up a conversation, as a girl who played many musical instruments, as a girl who was always single, as a girl who knew many people, as a girl who loved disagreeing and having healthy arguments with people.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>You'll remember me. Right?</b></span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-5196496694158351532011-04-29T22:06:00.003+08:002011-04-29T22:19:56.283+08:00Letter #000<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">Dearest, why do you insist on keeping every single thing to yourself? It is as if you are a tightly closed shell, unwilling to even leave room for some air in to breathe. You live in your own head, running in circles until you exhaust yourself only to have a breakdown and then the cycle repeats itself. Has there been no one who has expressed concern toward you? Or has just experiencing the world made you conclude that nobody should be given a chance to enter your own realm of thoughts and feelings? It must be depressing, this horrible recording you keep going through over and over in that depressing place! This shell of yours, or some would call a wall, when will it ever be pierced through? You find joy but you do not share and you feel sorrow yet you will not let it show, when in truth joy is multiplied when shared and sorrow is lightened when we confide in another. It is difficult to live in such a way, is it not? Give yourself a chance, give others a chance, give your life a chance! Come join the rest of us as we struggle to learn to live and deal, to desire and to yearn.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">Come, let us all feed off the rest of humanity.</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-72543105669196593692011-04-26T22:53:00.003+08:002011-04-26T23:11:43.799+08:00In recent times...<span class="Apple-style-span" >Lent has just passed, so has Easter.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >My dog ran away from home last Friday into the rain since it was Good Friday and all. Rushed home from church and I searched for her in the rain to no avail. I couldn't find her anywhere, so that night I cried myself to sleep since I had a paper in the morning the next day.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >It's a wonder how I even got to school without crying all the way, how I could laugh with some friends while we did some last minute cramming in the school cafeteria, how I managed to answer the questions and not murder anyone annoying along the way. All I wanted to do was to get back home and distribute the notices I made to get my fur ball back.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Anyway, long story cut short, Cino is now home after roaming around 3 housing areas. Three. I kid you not. This dog is mental and crazy fit, I wonder how she survived. Apparently she made friends with 2 strays and 2 other pet dogs. She came back all quiet and wasn't very responsive when we called to her, probably suffered a trauma or something.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >She's back to normal. I think she had a rough time away from home those 29 hours. No matter, she's home now. Thank you God for keeping her safe.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Blessed Easter everyone!</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-4931952664963267462011-04-21T00:23:00.002+08:002011-04-21T00:28:51.518+08:00Difference<span class="Apple-style-span" >You've taken the same road countless times that you know it like the back of your hand. There's that pebble hanging right by the edge of the tar road, and that white blob of excess white paint that was spilled. You even know the number of seconds each side of the traffic gets till the light turns green on your end again. That familiar billboard advert greets you every single time you stare out your car window.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Yet every time you take that same road, it just isn't the same as the last time you were there.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >What's so different? You continue wondering.</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-67944471066057382022011-04-18T22:50:00.003+08:002011-04-18T23:36:15.119+08:00Communication<span class="Apple-style-span" >Remember the good old days when we used simple language to convey our thoughts?</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u><b>Example 1</b></u></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Mama I really really really love you."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Really? How much?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >"This much!"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >And then you proceed to stretching your arms as wide as your tiny toddling frame can go. Or if you've never done that before <s>(cause you weren't a very cute little kid)</s>, maybe you remember this.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><u>Example 2</u></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Which color do you like?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Red!"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Yes, of course I'm talking about crayons. Everyone had a history with crayons. Everyone. Anywho, back to my topic for today.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >At my current age, many of us are heavily influenced by our peers, the radio, the telly, movies and, not to forget what connects us all, the internet. I'm pretty sure most of the topics of discussion we have come from these media too. Here are some examples of what we receive from these influences.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u><b>More examples</b></u></span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">"I wanna get wit' chu."</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">"omgwtfbbq"</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">"you betta hide yo daught'rs and hide yo wives."</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">"you dun goof'd!"</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">"haters to the left."</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">"don't be a drag just be a queen."</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">"Friday Friday <s>we're</s> gonna get <s>high</s> down on Friday."</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">"My mum thinks LOL means lots of love. Today, my mum sent me a text that read 'Your grandma died today. LOL.' "</span></li></ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I just don't get it. Why. Pfft.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">p/s: That last example is a personal favorite by the way. Got it off one of those sites where you like the link if it's relevant to you.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-4583918156755970602011-04-14T23:29:00.002+08:002011-04-14T23:36:49.371+08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" >Ended a module today. It's weird that five modules are done already, I still feel like I haven't started too long ago.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I have a habit of blanking out sometimes cause I have really short daydreams. Today, about twenty minutes before my last lecture for the module was to end, it was raining really heavily outside that I could even hear the thunder from inside the building. The first thing that hit my mind was that the world was ending outside and here I am, still having a lecture while everyone was running around outside and the sky might have turned red or fallen down, I can't remember.</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-5526742364862895272011-04-07T22:57:00.002+08:002011-04-07T23:02:33.194+08:00New beginnings #1<span class="Apple-style-span" ><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >It's been a while since I've had the chance to pen everything down, so I've decided that sometimes I'll leave certain statements after having debates I have in my head just so I can keep track on how active my mind has been. Whoopee! No, not really. </span>But if you do have time on your hands, consider with me won't you?</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div>Without further ado, here is today's. Have fun, no stress and don't overwork yourselves!</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div>"If you've lived long enough, you would know that there really isn't just black and white."</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Fyi, comments are very much welcomed!</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-41528686466875688852011-04-04T00:09:00.002+08:002011-04-04T00:29:04.921+08:00Vibes<span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>Humans are smart creatures.</i></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">I say that because I know for a fact that humans can read these things called "vibes", these invisible and unspoken expressions that are somehow translated and received by others, sometimes unknowingly and other times on purpose.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >During the past week, I got vibes from a couple of friends that I might have been using them as my means of transport too often and it shouldn't be a surprise to you that it didn't make me feel very nice at all. I also got vibes that I might be too proud or boastful, that I might be belittling some people, or even that I don't know when to keep my mouth shut.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Maybe it's just my receiving end that's gone wrong, maybe they are thinking that way, maybe I'm over-thinking things. One thing for sure is, something doesn't feel right and I don't like it not feeling right.</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-47806575414690172102011-04-02T00:29:00.004+08:002011-04-02T00:48:42.254+08:00Blockage<span class="Apple-style-span">You know those moments when you can't tell what you're feeling because <i>apparently</i> there are so many feelings that hit you <b>all at once</b>, you don't know which to reveal as the answer when someone asks you about it?</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbuD6PfqRZTiPPdWZHkL2-D3UyjnYVXCeFElU894vlJh0zG1ISSYDggYVO70o1OaffH25L9TrI2Awg_5qxm8APf_aA1RZPtaBR3sW7h2OA108PLOv2P-Dc0aHi5l2KM7zKxqCJaw/s1600/DSC00620.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbuD6PfqRZTiPPdWZHkL2-D3UyjnYVXCeFElU894vlJh0zG1ISSYDggYVO70o1OaffH25L9TrI2Awg_5qxm8APf_aA1RZPtaBR3sW7h2OA108PLOv2P-Dc0aHi5l2KM7zKxqCJaw/s400/DSC00620.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590654980475112834" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Jackson posing by a leaf-less plant in a huge pot.</span></div><br /><br /><div>Well, times like those call for a burst after blockage over a certain period. The "kraken is released"! Then all is well again.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">Or at least, for now it is.</span></div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-85692268546066944122011-03-30T23:24:00.004+08:002011-03-30T23:30:27.258+08:00Confirmation<span class="Apple-style-span">So I made a new face for my blog, I guess I really am coming back on blogger. It's been a while and lots of changes have been made to edit the pages, so I'm feeling rather impressed. I'll be writing stuff, so watch out for that. Of course there will be rants as well.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">Just gonna go with the flow and see how things turn out. I'm in uni now and I have a feeling time won't be on my side very often for very long.</span><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">Anywho! Hello all, I'm back.</span></div></div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-82868220419231729072011-03-28T23:36:00.002+08:002011-03-28T23:43:03.090+08:00The Return<span class="Apple-style-span" >Am considering a return to blogger, we'll see what happens. I could never find the courage to post something about myself on my Tumblr page. Hm. We'll see!</span>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-83572030716734944082009-11-19T23:02:00.003+08:002009-11-19T23:14:16.903+08:00Hello goodbye<span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm moving to Tumblr. I'm sorry Blogger, this is where we part ways.<br /><br />New URL : <a href="http://a-tad-byronic.tumblr.com/">http://a-tad-byronic.tumblr.com/</a><br /><br />I'll still keep this page, but will be using Tumblr most of the time. Sorry if this troubles you in any way.<br /><br />Be safe everyone,<br />Sara<br /></span>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-30645022087044797022009-11-13T01:10:00.003+08:002009-11-13T01:21:32.529+08:00Letter #1<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Dear Nutcrack,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"> Yes, nobody said it was easy but I never thought it'd feel as if things were this hard. I don't think even screaming therapy, ice cream, endless ranting sessions or anything would help. And of all times it's now that I finally realize there are no allies here, I am without companions; I am alone. You say we feel because we are human, then haven't you been trying to convince me to be anything but one since you keep saying we shouldn't dwell on all this feelings? I can surely tell you now that if your motive all this while was to strip me of my heartstrings and melt this ice wall I have been struggling so much to hold up; congratulations! It's time to pop that champagne bottle you have been saving for this very moment. Thank you for showing me the truth, and you can bet for certain I'll be stuck in this insanity for a sufficient period of time.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Yours in solitude,</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Frostbite</span><br /></div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-49427009886306922602009-11-05T01:45:00.002+08:002009-11-05T01:53:49.028+08:00Lowtide<h2>"you´re in my mind<br />you´re in my heart<br />I wish I knew right from the start<br />all my friends said you´d break my heart<br />A heartbreaker right from the start"</h2> <div class="caption"> <p><b> </b></p> <p><b> </b></p> <p><b> <p>- MSTRKRFT ft. John Legend singing "Heartbreaker"</p><p><br /></p></b><b><p><span style="font-weight: normal; font-family: verdana;">Awesome song right there. Lyrics are the bomb too.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight: normal; font-family: verdana;">Everything is falling into place again. I guess things do settle down no matter how big a stirup it gets. I'm glad things are working out fine. Guess the tide(?) has gone down. Now the only thing that's missing is Ramen! Why oh why didn't Mumsy get those packets of Shin instant noodles when she went grocery shopping? Whyyyyyyyyyy</span></p><p><span style="font-weight: normal; font-family: verdana;">p/s : Coming home with the bestie who's been MIA later today. I've missed you Jack! :D</span></p></b><b><p><span style="font-weight: normal; font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-family: courier new;">"And we both go on wondering whether the other is gonna say something first.</span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;">"</span><br /></p> </b></p> </div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-68749038153786856122009-11-03T00:37:00.002+08:002009-11-03T00:51:53.482+08:00This Moment<div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">You know you're crazy when you have an assignment due today itself and the only thing you've typed on Notepad is the Front Page - which conveniently only took you 8 seconds for 4 lines - while you hope you can wake up at 7am in a little more than 6 hours' time to come up with 1500 words by comparing a news article and a news broadcast on customer satisfaction dropping in Singapore before leaving home to cross the causeway at 9am.</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Or, maybe that's just me.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I really hope I pull this one off.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">For any person whose profession has something to do with Journalism, you have my respect! One heck of a bother, it is. And having to get it done before the news gets out too. Crazy how you guys do it.<br /><br /><br /><br />I'd like to see some fireflies, if you(anyone) please(s).</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></div></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-23754427633403601182009-10-18T01:17:00.003+08:002009-10-18T01:38:22.437+08:00Same old<span style="font-family:verdana;">I hate it that I'm receiving more than I seemed to have given. No, I'm not talking about receiving good stuff. I'd be a silly goat to think that because that's how we humans work. We want to take and take and take all the good stuff; leave the rest to the rest. I don't understand what's really going on as I thought the 'talking it over' part was, well, over.<br /><br />Don't you hate it sometimes when you've apologized for your mistakes already and it's as though you hadn't at all?<br /><br />I don't know how I really am to people anymore for now. And shit, although I know I've made a mistake even I myself feel it's unjust to make me feel like I haven't reflected and said sorry. The word 'shit' can't even begin to cover how I feel towards myself at this moment. I bet the next thing I'm gonna be accused of acting like I'm the victim. I have reasons as to why I do things a certain way, if an apology doesn't help make you feel better then what other shit do you want me to do this is really trying my patience and i really did apologize already gawd what else do you want from me ahhhhhhhhhhhhh<br /><br />I have not cried for a while, and I refuse to. I <span style="font-style: italic;">refuse</span> to give you the reaction you expect me to give you.<br />If this is all but a test, I have a feeling I might not pass it even.<br />Mayhap John Mayer will keep me distracted from my work of stupidity bah<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">New discovered fact about myself:</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I don't use punctuations in my typed sentences when I'm upset.</span><br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">"I'm never speaking up again; it only hurts me."<br />- My Stupid Mouth, John Mayer<br /></span>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-87953230589201561682009-10-16T11:38:00.004+08:002009-10-17T15:27:37.072+08:00Ugly<span style="font-family:verdana;">Have I changed?<br /><br /><br />To be insensitive; to be called a hypocrite by another; to not feel sorry for being honest but rather feel sorry as to not direct the comment at the person being commented on; to feel like the lowliest dumbass of friends when all I had in mind was to make good use of money invested in me.<br /><br /><br />You know what the irony is? All this while I've been trying my hardest to trust others but this time I'm the one who has made someone lose their trust in me. And for now, just for now, <span style="font-weight: bold;">I loathe the word</span>.<br /><br /><br />"So scared of getting old, I'm only good at being young."<br />- John Mayer<br /></span>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-92145743352407609912009-10-14T00:40:00.002+08:002009-10-14T01:10:19.214+08:00Fourteenth of October Two-Oh-Oh-Nine<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">"Round and round we go once again.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Where does it go, is there an end?"</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Happy Birthday Mama.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">THE crazy big fat Mama who said 'If I were crazy, you are too!" for every time I called her that. I miss your silly sayings - "Kencing kencing kencing" when nature called; "Mama die then you know" when you wanted to have our sweets even though you were diabetic - when you were still around. Your coin-purse is still full with your coins, I can't bear the thought of using your money cause you always made me pay you back every last cent I borrowed from you. I wish I could put on your socks for you one last time before you went to sleep at night or even put on the marching gloves I used for school just so you wouldn't be cold like the day I last heard you call me.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">No, I won't cry about the time I made you and Papa quarrel so bad that I thought either one of you wouldn't stay in the house anymore; I won't laugh about the times you and Uncle Black spoke about different things without even listening to the other talk; I won't giggle at your powder puff and your "Hwang Yew" medicated oil you used all the time; I won't miss smelling that weird smell that used to come out of your side of the cupboard we shared; I won't think about how you always asked Bishop James(at that time) to bless you whenever he said mass; I won't imagine running my hand through your curly white hair and how disgusting the way it was when you took off your dentures; I won't ask mummy for that old wedding photo of yourself and Gonggong you used to boast oh so proudly all the time to us that your grandfather owns a road in JB; I won't even start on the way your face lit up everytime you spoke about any of us as your grandchildren.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">None of all that, because you lived Mama. You lived. And for once I'd like for you to know that I'm darn well proud of you too. Rest well Mama, we love and miss you!</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:78%;">You describe me as a relaxed individual when you haven't even seen me get upset. I just hide it well that's all.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">"I smile just because."</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">- John Mayer</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-20954384994814379122009-10-06T23:42:00.002+08:002009-10-06T23:51:19.144+08:00Makes me wonder<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYugVzanyrBRtbe6cpmAIM6U3nD3GRGuuos0sYlI9gaNG85WssL-PZl5-03M9PlIk_8zK5ccVYrRIY4fpt-AD0_vtQ6wKW80-KCCo1pVGm16oe9ETLNJrK78f-7KZYvWpDirXFAw/s1600-h/blog.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYugVzanyrBRtbe6cpmAIM6U3nD3GRGuuos0sYlI9gaNG85WssL-PZl5-03M9PlIk_8zK5ccVYrRIY4fpt-AD0_vtQ6wKW80-KCCo1pVGm16oe9ETLNJrK78f-7KZYvWpDirXFAw/s400/blog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389513701964744770" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">On some days, I go around wondering if I'm really who I am or if I'm just looking on from two holes(my eyes) into someone's life.<br /><br />Thinking is good, right?</span><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">"Maybe I'm amazed."</span><br /></div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22943099.post-75121551493936351092009-10-05T02:30:00.003+08:002009-10-05T12:04:16.106+08:00Badaboom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3HEMJRlvDJ4KL_Da_6WnYEaKYDfj3xFfxugJ3LBgZs-YR0k7FCD6qVXOjAdfnbtNdKLlkvLGkobD7fle1MtteeZpn-0SY9oiniMUbMkHKnMuokBKD-irKFZKhrOHBucx18vB7ow/s1600-h/=X.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3HEMJRlvDJ4KL_Da_6WnYEaKYDfj3xFfxugJ3LBgZs-YR0k7FCD6qVXOjAdfnbtNdKLlkvLGkobD7fle1MtteeZpn-0SY9oiniMUbMkHKnMuokBKD-irKFZKhrOHBucx18vB7ow/s400/=X.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388814305478435762" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Shocking isn't it.<br /><br /><br />I meant my nail colour by the way.<br />Hah!<br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />"We can drive home with one headlight."<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div></div><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">edited</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Feast thy eyes on my doggy dear, Cino!</span> (Here you go Clara, say hi yourself!)<br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">p/s : Many thanks to Mercy Sue aka Markey my soulmate for the pictures. I hope you find a better place to stay in Singapore soon.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_iEdZ1ZyxvFAaeLS4EGTwJ4AKgXX42NAFyKTYBileWaepqaaJVbtt3Umu4e1n6zReElZDyf7yupmG3_NVUGYe10bIioPSNS_vSzAyDEE4LzJfHPN9KFFxDBdSbNh9-Ny6_NGtwg/s1600-h/Cino+lipstick%21"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_iEdZ1ZyxvFAaeLS4EGTwJ4AKgXX42NAFyKTYBileWaepqaaJVbtt3Umu4e1n6zReElZDyf7yupmG3_NVUGYe10bIioPSNS_vSzAyDEE4LzJfHPN9KFFxDBdSbNh9-Ny6_NGtwg/s400/Cino+lipstick%21" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388960404703889986" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;">Looks as though she has lipstick on or something :/</span><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-0ZOyGhHdAX_BkfcANS4XYjwDKd0O9HjQlCnDh5_vEb_aYrB0cQr-jSKFB58MNOO0zG-EntLC4LTooBOZoTT8-bTrPxMqWW2PtRfe8RB08EKvAebPtr2FrgMLBVFt3eLJ7zUhg/s1600-h/IMG_1969.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-0ZOyGhHdAX_BkfcANS4XYjwDKd0O9HjQlCnDh5_vEb_aYrB0cQr-jSKFB58MNOO0zG-EntLC4LTooBOZoTT8-bTrPxMqWW2PtRfe8RB08EKvAebPtr2FrgMLBVFt3eLJ7zUhg/s400/IMG_1969.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388960399989655314" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;">The moping dog that looks like a mop - pun intended</span><br /></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14008016826895839407noreply@blogger.com0