The Scarlet Letter

A rather in depth book about sin and guilt by Nathaniel Hawthorne. I was inspired to read it by Taylor Swift. Her singing "and I was your Scarlet Letter" in her song Love Story.

I think I should be more honest in my blogging and just rant like all my other fellow teen bloggers do. Be honest with myself.

That will start in the next entry.

Bad Day

A sad song turns around your day? I hope it does. I've listened to Daniel Powter's Bad Day at least five times in a row at this point. alright four from him and one chimpmunk version.

I'm sorry Kimisa. I know you know my blog now. I suppose you might never see this post. You're possibly watching your favourite "I Survived a Japanese Gameshow" right now. You'll never know what's in your plain sight. This was possibly the trigger.

You don't know. Why should I bother? Then I feel that this is my only way out.

It's like this. My mother does not really like me on such close terms with you. I don't get it, I mean I get her reasoning about the religion combats we will face but I just wish that God could carry me through those.

I have a few close friends at church and in this circle of my life. Then why do I want to be with you as a friend? You made me love you to much. The manga you drew, your own boldness.

I can't send this sort of point directly to you so I have to do it in the presence of the whole web and face the stupid bleeding risk of you seeing it at the same time.

Perhaps if life was a music video we could all cheorograph at our own pre-ordained style it might work out. You'll be the person who spray paints everyday after a bad day at school on the pavement along the road which my eyes see everyday. I'll be the person who writes next to it in chalk that the rain washes away. Then one day you'll see my initials before the rain comes.

Sorry if I've been emoing out because of that.

Hang it All

Dash it all that little insignificant language mark.
I waste hours and money on the pitiful little language and I find no enjoyment in it.

Let me dash all hopes of becoming a English-French bilingual. Right now, the outrageous government just wants all of us citizens under their education scheme to learn our mother tongue regardless of the nowhere it's going to lead most of us. We'll bloomingly forget the lump of stuff we learn other than basic conversational Chinese.

Really. Other than the ability of speaking to 1.3 billion people in China and smatterings of other non-China people who know the language that's about it. You can't use it as a Morse code in Singapore. Even in France you can't use it as a Morse code because of all the other CHINESE people KNOW THE LANGUAGE.

While we're at that we can wilt away the time we could have otherwise spent on the things we treasure in the wide spectrum of academics.

I'm not against Chinese or anything but this sort of force-feeding has got to stop. The culture and heritage I hold in great esteem but it's the same as race isn't it? It holds you down when you want to delve into other areas and spaces.

It is important but to each his own. What is food to one is lethal poison to the other. My English grade has worsened (though perhaps not Chinese's fault) and that haranguing red mark from my Chinese makes me feel so insignificant I feel like chucking away my writing dreams and becoming the little toddler in the system. Toddling from high school to varsity. That's all they want from us. Just that. No high expectations. Nope.

HOW UNCONVINCING IS THAT?

Some people are forced into some types of work and there are hundreds and thousands out there striving for a living and daily bread and gruel. So why am I complaining?

Just say that I am a stubborn, ill-contented, selfish, self-absorbed, wishful thinking, spoiled, indecent brat of a teenager.

Obama Won!

Thank you for noting that Erin. As a token of my esteem and respect towards you I shall now request the lurkers around this blog to buzz over to your blog where they can thrive as lurkers since your blog does not have a bleeding comment system or tagboard.

Obama WON! At least now we don't have to hide our faces and duck for cover should Mc Cain become president and attend some meeting in Singapore which our Prime Minister is cordially inviting the truly elected president to in his congratulatory letter to Mr Obama and his Vice-President.

I'll need to resort to ebay soon. There is no other way I can get my much needed yarn.

......

That was an exceedingly long movie break. I am just too stuck into the Disney movies. Motion pictures of course not the HSM nonsense that passes for a movie nowadays. Just watched The Black Cauldron, which was a disappointment. Not as many funny lines or anything as the usual stream.

ADMIT IT! Disney is the awesomest movie producer of this age other than it's crazy propaganda of teenage life.

Am I Lovesick?

I seriously think I am. I have this continuous love-story with the same old characters with occasionally different settings running through my head since I was playing Barbie. Which is yes, ages ago. Now it has evolved to a near Beauty and the Beast setting with only modern people. Potential spark whenever I revisit my childhood favourites.

First it was the Malaysian trip to Port Dickson last weekend (I'll elaborate more this week). I spent a memorable ten minutes or so sitting across this lonesome Indian chap with the sea breeze in my face. It isn't exactly me checking him out or anything but it started me thinking about relationships and the possible advances he might make. Thankfully we were just two folks staring at nothing in particular and sipping water.

Of course I was knitting: that made him stare at my needles for awhile. Turns out I was a lot calmer after that. May have been the sea air or that singular human presence. I left after that for my shower. Later that night I believe he was one of the two chaps sleeping on the benches where we sat.

Second was the train ride. Just a few stops. I chanced to sit next to a blond guy. It was certainly uncalled for but I think it started my irritating brain cogs wondering who I might eventually end up with. If only all people wore wedding or engagement rings. No problems or worries that you are chatting up a married guy or girl. I quite "fall in love" with random people with no particular looks when in a line queuing for food or in the bus.

He was not handsome or dashing or wearing a crisp business suit (any of those would have been quite attractive). Just a plain man in t-shirt and shorts. Like what a friend told me, when you are single and guys don't notice, you feel awfully insignificant. I have never been in a real dating relationship or even boy-girl so my only experience is when I dream about it. a.k.a the weird characters scenario.

Third. The newspaper boy. It is so clique I want to scream. An average looking newspaper boy can really hit you hard when he comes for the payment when you are dressed in nothing but shorts and a P.J top. Like the Avenue Q song "I'm not wearing underwear today"

I believe he's about a few years older than me. Collecting the payment for a few years now but there's nothing more I do when I see him but pass him the money and get my change and receipt.

I hope this does not affect my mental reputation with my friends who know this blog. I'm just feeling a little lovelorn. And practically old when someone thought I was my mother's friend. Gross.