my blog is bad.
the language is bad.
the content is bad.
my thoughts aren't all that good.
it's all bad.
shit
thenize
my solitude, none understood...
Monday, April 7, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
*no cheesy title*
(written; 9 January 2014; 12.34am)
Third semester had been a hair pulling semester and, believe me, I HAVE lost many strands. Apart from my seemingly thinner mane, this semester has brought me to highs that aspired me more and lows that I could never phantom will befall me. Naive.
This semester showed me the many characters of people and the multiple faces of mine; how rage could be so destructively empowering, killing slowly from the inside and ruining friendships on the outside. it showed me the importance to have faith in God, and the need to decrease the love for self and especially self pride. It showed me how high grades backed up with faith in God proved its strength rather than self pride and effort.
Moreover, this semester taught me more about myself. How my past reality are blurry as if I am unsure if that really happened or is it an imagined reality of mine. I have spent too much time dwelling in my head, an unreliable 1st person narrative, as in Jane Eyre, my account could be extremely biased. most of these are of my childhood. My fights with my sister, how she would always win and be in favour of the parents, however, I might be the bully, always picking up fights. These, I could not firmly put a hold on who's right or wrong; am I always the victim as I perceive or she the victim of my bully? I admit, I was malicious, incredibly mean and full of spite. I have no idea why I was such an angry kid though. I grew up in a providing family, in the company of two other siblings, playing "Denise the Menace" and "Denise in the Middle" (sorry for the terrible referencing, though, it was fun playing those). Of course, I've witnessed family dramas as had been televised in every household, but somehow, compared to my siblings, I was exceptionally scarred. I do not feel them and they do not empathize me. Maybe that's how I ended up choosing a road different from theirs. Guess I could say I'm pretty romantic. Heh.
Anyway, after having deviated to far, my intention, as I aspire to be a writer, someday, to find something great and wonderful enough to speak at a TED event, my intention is to record, a habit used by many: nation leaders, entrepreneurs, great thinkers, writers... This "recording" would serve as a reminder, a motivation, a source of inspiration, materials for future works or even materials for an autobiography, or a biography! This would also be a good practice. 750 words a day, or 3 pages, to practice.
It's 1.26am after a long day with no rest, the voice has changed and I've strayed far from my original motive. Before I end, I, again, would like to re-emphasize that I love literature and what she taught me. This is a start of a beautiful journey and I look forward to pushing on.
Denise
1.31am, 9 January 2014
this marks the end of third semester. Though I write prematurely but let's not let inspiration slip away again.
"[Though] I might not have pass all my tests but I love literature and all the things it had taught me." - Denise, 9 January 2014I put this up in Twitter and I love it. So I thought I should put it up somewhere else too.
Third semester had been a hair pulling semester and, believe me, I HAVE lost many strands. Apart from my seemingly thinner mane, this semester has brought me to highs that aspired me more and lows that I could never phantom will befall me. Naive.
This semester showed me the many characters of people and the multiple faces of mine; how rage could be so destructively empowering, killing slowly from the inside and ruining friendships on the outside. it showed me the importance to have faith in God, and the need to decrease the love for self and especially self pride. It showed me how high grades backed up with faith in God proved its strength rather than self pride and effort.
Moreover, this semester taught me more about myself. How my past reality are blurry as if I am unsure if that really happened or is it an imagined reality of mine. I have spent too much time dwelling in my head, an unreliable 1st person narrative, as in Jane Eyre, my account could be extremely biased. most of these are of my childhood. My fights with my sister, how she would always win and be in favour of the parents, however, I might be the bully, always picking up fights. These, I could not firmly put a hold on who's right or wrong; am I always the victim as I perceive or she the victim of my bully? I admit, I was malicious, incredibly mean and full of spite. I have no idea why I was such an angry kid though. I grew up in a providing family, in the company of two other siblings, playing "Denise the Menace" and "Denise in the Middle" (sorry for the terrible referencing, though, it was fun playing those). Of course, I've witnessed family dramas as had been televised in every household, but somehow, compared to my siblings, I was exceptionally scarred. I do not feel them and they do not empathize me. Maybe that's how I ended up choosing a road different from theirs. Guess I could say I'm pretty romantic. Heh.
Anyway, after having deviated to far, my intention, as I aspire to be a writer, someday, to find something great and wonderful enough to speak at a TED event, my intention is to record, a habit used by many: nation leaders, entrepreneurs, great thinkers, writers... This "recording" would serve as a reminder, a motivation, a source of inspiration, materials for future works or even materials for an autobiography, or a biography! This would also be a good practice. 750 words a day, or 3 pages, to practice.
It's 1.26am after a long day with no rest, the voice has changed and I've strayed far from my original motive. Before I end, I, again, would like to re-emphasize that I love literature and what she taught me. This is a start of a beautiful journey and I look forward to pushing on.
Signing off,
Music might have saved my life but,
Literature taught me.
Denise
1.31am, 9 January 2014
Saturday, December 28, 2013
footprints in the sand
In the red sunset
Walking hand in hand
My white dress and your black suit
Laughter in the salty air
Leaving footprints in the sand.
Between white satin sheets
Waking next to you
Fiery passion of the morning
The warmth of our embrace
Leaving footprints in the sand.
Then a stork passed by and
All was joy but
Till one day,
A fight broke.
It wasn't just about two any more.
Walking hand in hand
My white dress and your black suit
Laughter in the salty air
Leaving footprints in the sand.
Between white satin sheets
Waking next to you
Fiery passion of the morning
The warmth of our embrace
Leaving footprints in the sand.
Then a stork passed by and
All was joy but
Till one day,
A fight broke.
It wasn't just about two any more.
Mad hatter: Mad about hats!
Of many things that I keep tabs on, hats, nowadays, has raised to the top of my obsession list.
My current obsession would be bowler hats!
The indecisiveness of a Libra, I couldn't bring myself to choose between the plain ones or the ones with a moulded cat ear. Like a fad, the cat ears might come and go. And not to forget, the colours. My top picks would be black and burgundy. Or maybe camel or ivory. Not to forget, i can't decide to actually get it or not.
Cash or product.
Choose one style.
Pick one colour.
I am not rich. I can't have multiples of the same item.
And I have no idea why am I composing this when I should be reading. And my English is bad. And I do feel bad.
(Self bashing on the internet. Bravo Denise, Bravo)
My current obsession would be bowler hats!
The indecisiveness of a Libra, I couldn't bring myself to choose between the plain ones or the ones with a moulded cat ear. Like a fad, the cat ears might come and go. And not to forget, the colours. My top picks would be black and burgundy. Or maybe camel or ivory. Not to forget, i can't decide to actually get it or not.
Cash or product.
Choose one style.
Pick one colour.
I am not rich. I can't have multiples of the same item.
And I have no idea why am I composing this when I should be reading. And my English is bad. And I do feel bad.
(Self bashing on the internet. Bravo Denise, Bravo)
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Hobnobbly Hiddles
I have to admit, that along with the rest of the internet, I too, have jump on the Tom Hiddleston bandwagon. *giggles* Such charming eyes and smile he's got hasn't he?
Now, the reason I'm writing this is due to this little argument I have, with myself, in my head: is Tom Hiddleston really the bad guy people say he is? and I shall call him Hiddles from nows on.
Hiddles play Loki in 3 Marvel movies. Loki's the God of Mischief. He's the antagonist, although not main. Bad guy. I get it, Loki's the bad guy. But, is Hiddles the bad guy too?
Hiddles plays Loki, folks like Loki, Loki's got Hiddles' face because Hiddles plays Loki! After all that equation people get Hiddles a bad boy that women loves? I mean, I'm terrible at math but after all that equating, they come to that conclusion? That's terrible mathematics folks.
I personally, don't like Hiddles because he's the "bad boy that women loves". I like him because he's a nice guy. I think he's a really nice person. I've seen him in a few interviews (and in fandom, that means the whole internet) and he's lovely! He's the perfect blend of charm, kindness, wit and fun (and probably a few more characteristics and adjectives to throw in there but I'll just stop at four.)
First off, Hiddles is trained classically. He knows his Shakespeare and he is passionate about these 'boring old stuffs' too! No bad boy like these kinda stuff, they think they're too tough! I might be slightly biased cause I'm a lit major but he knows what he's talking about. He even made references to the theories! It's like revision when I'm looking at him. (I'm Asian. It's all about CGPAs on this side of the world.)
Next, he is quick and funny. Witty. Smart. And have fancy words up his sleeves too. Effortless for him to describe, which makes him funny, and smart, and the circle goes on.
Then, his laugh.
And, he is kind, and gentlemanly. He knows his etiquette.
Last but not, he loves tea! I love tea too! (Can I get a high5?) And from here he goes on talking about HobNob with a string on delicate yet beautiful descriptive words.
In conclusion, he's a nice guy.
This is probably a more absurd equation to prove Hiddles' a nice guy.
And this is silly, you know I wrote this post for the sake of writing about Hiddles.
Edit:
You know, after all that, I forgot my original intention of writing this. I wanted to say that Hiddles made Loki his and him and to some extent, Hiddles is bad too, Loki's Hiddles' alter ego.
Confusing? I've confused myself too. Refer to last sentence above "Edit". There you go. Byes.
Now, the reason I'm writing this is due to this little argument I have, with myself, in my head: is Tom Hiddleston really the bad guy people say he is? and I shall call him Hiddles from nows on.
Hiddles play Loki in 3 Marvel movies. Loki's the God of Mischief. He's the antagonist, although not main. Bad guy. I get it, Loki's the bad guy. But, is Hiddles the bad guy too?
Hiddles plays Loki, folks like Loki, Loki's got Hiddles' face because Hiddles plays Loki! After all that equation people get Hiddles a bad boy that women loves? I mean, I'm terrible at math but after all that equating, they come to that conclusion? That's terrible mathematics folks.
I personally, don't like Hiddles because he's the "bad boy that women loves". I like him because he's a nice guy. I think he's a really nice person. I've seen him in a few interviews (and in fandom, that means the whole internet) and he's lovely! He's the perfect blend of charm, kindness, wit and fun (and probably a few more characteristics and adjectives to throw in there but I'll just stop at four.)
First off, Hiddles is trained classically. He knows his Shakespeare and he is passionate about these 'boring old stuffs' too! No bad boy like these kinda stuff, they think they're too tough! I might be slightly biased cause I'm a lit major but he knows what he's talking about. He even made references to the theories! It's like revision when I'm looking at him. (I'm Asian. It's all about CGPAs on this side of the world.)
Next, he is quick and funny. Witty. Smart. And have fancy words up his sleeves too. Effortless for him to describe, which makes him funny, and smart, and the circle goes on.
Then, his laugh.
And, he is kind, and gentlemanly. He knows his etiquette.
Last but not, he loves tea! I love tea too! (Can I get a high5?) And from here he goes on talking about HobNob with a string on delicate yet beautiful descriptive words.
In conclusion, he's a nice guy.
This is probably a more absurd equation to prove Hiddles' a nice guy.
And this is silly, you know I wrote this post for the sake of writing about Hiddles.
Edit:
You know, after all that, I forgot my original intention of writing this. I wanted to say that Hiddles made Loki his and him and to some extent, Hiddles is bad too, Loki's Hiddles' alter ego.
Confusing? I've confused myself too. Refer to last sentence above "Edit". There you go. Byes.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
What are Dreams made of?
if dreams are
secret desires, hidden
and ignored
by the conscience
due to society's
comformity,
then, I
still
want you.
Monday, October 21, 2013
I remember: Mornings
I remember the days
Where 5 slept in one room.
5.45 the alarm sound
Its shrill and urgent call.
I continue to log,
In annoyance, in pretense,
In desperste attempts,
To not depart Dreamland.
The rustle of linen and
A gentle voice,
A gentle nudge,
"Jasper, Denise, Kerry,
It's time for school.
Wakey, wakey."
Would be his usual call.
On special occasions,
Verbally, he would
Plan out our future,
What he envisioned of us.
"You will leave high school,
Graduate from university,
Wear that square hat,
And that business suit,
And the veil..."
That was mine.
***
I remember the days
Where pots and pans clank,
Before day break.
Earlier than the birds,
Or the Sun,
Breakfast was on its way.
The last clank of the pots and
A gentle call,
A gentle reminder,
"Jasper, Denise, Kerry,
Eat your breakfast.
If not you'll be hungry.
Would be her usual nag.
On special occasions,
Diligently, she would
Lay our morning meal,
Our ultimate nemesis, Eggs.
"You will eat them and
It will be good
For your brain,
Your memory..."
While we struggle to swallow.
Where 5 slept in one room.
5.45 the alarm sound
Its shrill and urgent call.
I continue to log,
In annoyance, in pretense,
In desperste attempts,
To not depart Dreamland.
The rustle of linen and
A gentle voice,
A gentle nudge,
"Jasper, Denise, Kerry,
It's time for school.
Wakey, wakey."
Would be his usual call.
On special occasions,
Verbally, he would
Plan out our future,
What he envisioned of us.
"You will leave high school,
Graduate from university,
Wear that square hat,
And that business suit,
And the veil..."
That was mine.
***
I remember the days
Where pots and pans clank,
Before day break.
Earlier than the birds,
Or the Sun,
Breakfast was on its way.
The last clank of the pots and
A gentle call,
A gentle reminder,
"Jasper, Denise, Kerry,
Eat your breakfast.
If not you'll be hungry.
Would be her usual nag.
On special occasions,
Diligently, she would
Lay our morning meal,
Our ultimate nemesis, Eggs.
"You will eat them and
It will be good
For your brain,
Your memory..."
While we struggle to swallow.
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