I got my charm bracelet on the 5th of July. It only has one charm, a small tag with the words:

Name:

Tel:

Birth:

Blood type:

Unfortunately I doubt I can engrave my name on it, which reminds me. I need to find a ring engraving jeweller. I suppose it fits my name a little. Misnomer. Muse of the Misnamed and can't be named. Love's on my mind a little too much, especially with the topic reproductive organs in science. I am so glad my science teacher was female. But its so unfair. Guys get to produce theirs all the time while women only get 10,000 eggs and most are lost by the phases of the moon. I don't want to know how many I've lost already.

The whole thing about the husband losing interest in his wife strikes home every time. With my mother watching Korean soap operas with adultery as the main theme... I find the whole marriage thing too fragile. It might work if you could only say "I Love You" once a month though. Or not. Quarantine from each other each consecutive year? Only works for those really crazy lovers.

What would it be like? That kind of longing. Too bad, my heart has fallen for the kind of lover you find in stylised fiction. The type who catches your breath no matter how many times you see him. The Jodi Picoult cum Jennifer Donnelly type hunk.

Better go. I have chinese homework and need to catch up with my favourite primary school junior!

Random Poem

The Poetry Table

Hello, I received your letter last week
Only there was no time to read it until today’s twilight
I will meet you at the café where celestial stars and moons rays trickle through
The prison like bone cage of glass and modern metal
Must we meet there? It is hardly a café, more a bar where drunks drink away shillings
I shiver whenever one of them passes me, reeking of wasted pennies and his wife’s blood
They hit their wives and children

Can you bear that play of shame in front of your eyes? The bartender
He doles out the beer and gin which makes men violent, it is his living I know but
It is not ours to see the pun of slurring words meant to offend us

You mentioned in your letter that you are worried about our studies
It may worsen, that is sure, but we needn’t be swept up by its spurs and whips into captivity
We have found a gentle zephyr of freedom now have we not?
Do not fret over going to the easy life, it only restrains our thoughts
Moreover, where would that leave us in any case? Back where we started, again

I have found a hostel near the university and it is relatively comfortable
It is merely a single bedded room with a toilet, a bath and a small kitchen
The rent is a lot cheaper without room servicing although the manager checks every month
My slate and ink is stowed away in my wardrobe
Too many people stray from their rooms at night to search for outlets of lust
I have too often heard a secret woman’s secret vomiting
Through the bared thin walls of plaster and weak concrete
She lies in the room above me singing ballads in a rap voice unsuited unless in love

And you? How is your training for the veterinarian career?
Do the people at the hostel and your lodgings suit your taste?
Alternatively, are the plains stretched before your horizon as bleak as the Arctic scene?
Pray that it is more merry and gay rather than garish and crude.

Shall we go to Lourdes once we graduate? A breath of fresh air
Spiritual release and a holiday would do my haggard soul and body major renewal
Catholics take that place as a religious pilgrimage, where holy water floes
I would gladly take the chance to go to Mary’s meeting point
Where miracles, I hearsay, have been done
Much more the miracle of letting my pen freely flow once more
Perhaps a plot will be of you and me ending differently than now

Love, your dearest friend, Muse of the Misnamed, Misnomer

God bless you my sister.

Reply my poem soon, even a note will serve your purpose.

moon

moon, rising high above... don't you know how many minstrels have died for you

can you see the lovers swearing their love with your rays upon their lips

leaving homes, the vagabonds look to you with their upturned eyes
crying softly when you hide away, treading surely when you hang, up high
you, hide all the stars when they stay close to you

the astronomers and navigators can no longer tread the star wanderer's voyage


moon, you are just an orb... shining mystically bright, waxing

werewolves answer your call, from sane men into the unthinking blood-thirsty

when you wane into darkness, Hecate's witches cackle in delight
robbers and burglars of life work with the blood reflecting a fraction of your light
you steal other's light to reflect it into our eyes. trust not the thief.


moon, mice follow your light, only to find they can never reach you
like so many have wished that they could walk on your surface to meet their lovers
you separate those who live on you from those who live on earth
and yet each night, we are forced to scan the skies to find you
our only comfort is in seeing something so serene and tranquil
still thriving despite everything else

Top 10 Things I want to do now

1) write a fantastic plot for a novel (which I can't)
2) escape reality (inclusive of art lesson today and homework)
3) lose weight faster (those stated below will not help)
4) the chocolate bar in the fridge (yum...)
5) the macadamia ice-cream in the freezer (what?! study makes you hungry)
6) lie on the steps leading to the Metropolitan Museum (New York! i miss you)
7) learn french in 30 seconds (why bother in 30 days?)
8) finish reading Dante's Inferno (passed the wood of the suicides)
9) quit learning Chinese (you would if you had to learn it)
10) use youtube without fear of getting sued.

Climbing Trees

Not that I can climb trees, of course. Just a little fantasy I had today after running 2.4 km, I believe exercise makes you hallucinate. I was thinking of Europe again and all the stories I've read. With people climbing trees and those fields and mountains and gallons of fresh milk. It would be a nice thing if your love could climb trees and help you to a secluded branch where you could see the view through the canopy of green leaves with sunlight streaming down in pinpricks of light.

And now I know the reason for my obsession with youtube. I need some one's voice in my head continuously or I get bored or another word for lonely. Mom doesn't really like it but I think I can't live in silence. My own thoughts are too loud for me and I just like the being-in-another-world-other-than-your-life feeling.

Lets get this girl's big fat head back into her study circle shall we?

a land without punctuation

i saw this in a book by philip roth sabbaths theater and thought i would use this idea no matter how sick that book made me think of things without punctuation no paragraphs no pauses just chunks of information like some stupid factual report only this is without anything to tell you where one point ends and begins laugh out loud i will try typing like that but i keep typing full stops and stuff my bookshelf can probably take 10 medium thick books before it bursts becomes properly arranged full house i am munching on cornflakes and attempting to read the last 70 plus pages of the hobbit by j r r tolkien i will spare readers the agony of reading without punctuation now we will know how essential those dots and slashes are in reading and catching a breath while speaking

laughs

Yes! My plan is working. Although the talk on eating disorders today was really creepy I'm still going to lose weight! My target's only 48kg so no need to worry. Since I'm short that's a very good weight to stick with. Happy Youth Day everyone! The celebrations were great but unfortunately it was also the institution's health day...

I'm still dreaming of hot cocoa and ice-cream. Butterscotch naturally. I'm starting to like Atonement by Ian McEwan. Briony's writing plight is so alike mine although I'll never convince myself that I can write a hundred and thirty pages with an early twentieth century typewriter in one week. Careful though, gruesome medical scenes described although I still hold Jennifer Donnelly as the most gruesome in terms of wounds and going into labour.

Let me try and see what I can come up with in the next three hours for a mural design. To potray Culture and Community in my institution. 10 symbols of relatively reasonable scale by tomorrow 1 p.m. Help! I've only done 10%....

laugh.

Loving the things (not) in life

Raspberries, blackberries, a night's cape adorned with stars and a full moon and a snuggled up nest of blankets and tasseled pillows is my idea of perfectness for tonight. Only the night would be twice as long, allowing me to enjoy 8 hours more of thinking under the canopy of stars. Add in a conversation with C.S Lewis and that would make it completely wonderful. Not to mention hot chocolate. What a glutton I am, every world of happiness includes chocolate.

Alas, reality is math, listing the negative impacts of volcanoes and squeezing in time to blog for 20 minutes or so before I officially start. Tomorrow my running campaign for losing a pitiful 5kg will begin again. Then I can decide to plan my retreat into the decadent luxuries of comfort food and splurge on notebooks I'll probably never complete using. A girl can dream for the "teenage induced" years of her life.

Yay for me, I have drawn the x and y axis for my first graph. Read an email. Plotted the first dot. Instant messaged people. Drew the linear line. Finished first graph question. Second graph drawn, in the process of answering questions... Checked the work list to be done by Thursday. Finished graph two. Toilet break for being such a great person.

I'll write later, have to finish geography volcanoes. Groan.... so many negative impacts.