BYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have moved to

SPARROWONWEED

:D

I'd never get bored of watching joel sleep, for one it is one of the most peaceful things to watch because he always looks like he's smiling. Teeth grinding too, bad but kinda cute. My cats and pet gecko pretty much nudge him aside for space in first place of ' cutest sleeping things to look at ' . There's my gecko on my shoulder and there's me in joel's army gortex (?), trying to be kenny southpark.


Navel piercing's healing well, it's been a hectic week running about and im excited for the ad. Stressed yes, but excited nonetheless. Moneyyyy!!!!!! :D


And of course i cant wait to see how my school days will fill out. Hopefully i'll be able to work on the sides as well, i do miss powerhouse alot. My plans in the making as well :) i think waiting would do some good.


And god damnit , you know the feeling of finally getting stuff off your chest to the intended outlet even if nothing happens? It is fucking awesome. I can't believe i'd actually requested for you to get off scott free, that's two times lucky for you bitch. But between saving my ass or yours in an ultimatum, mine's to keep. oh how i'd love to see you give it another go, I'd rip your ugly head right off.


And the sparrow on weed screeched.

Life as we know it,

will always be filled with dickheads.
Just got to know which ones to keep away and which ones to castrate.

Hey There Delilah

I do adore this Hey There Delilah cover i found, my favourite so far.

And i finally got my navel pierced after lusting over it for ages, the boyfriend was really sweet to pay half because he just got his pay. Felt as though i was giving birth what with the piercer going ' Do you want to hold his hand ? ' (hahahahaha) and ' okay breathe in and out, deep breaths. They'll help. '.

The pain wasn't as bad as my monroe but the transfer was a bit of a bitch i kinda yelped. Hats off to anyone who does piercings for themselves; I could never go through the ordeal of prepping up in the knowing of the pain that I'll inflict on myself and the piercing through the flesh part. Seriously, I think tattoos are way below piercings in the pain department, if only i could finish up the ones i wanted to do ... .... ):

Just did a sakura buffet with the family ... Oh look! Gigantic pufferfish!

And the sparrow on weed screeched.

Say hi

To my temperamental nameless gecko.

And the sparrow on weed screeched.

Hieee

So a few things have changed since i last wrote here. I completed my exams, i got a pet gecko, i got my new specs, i had my journey with GEMS 6, i broke my chuzzle high score, i saw sleeping chuzzles, i got my results ( still have to retake bpharm but im actually looking forward to it ) , and joel and i are another month older.


Alot of feelings i have, post GEMS but im leaving that for some other time. And alot of feelings i have, for failing bpharm again. I get numb to failing after these 3 years, not just studies but anything else i consider a personal failure, but im just glad im not used to it. And thank god i passed the rest! I pray i can proceed smoothly with my attachment still! It was so good that when i broke the news of results to myself , joel was there and there to tell me ' c'mere you need a hug' . I love hugs, they soothe me.

As you can see, my boyfriend busied himself while i was peacefully hugging his pillow and was obviously trying to suppress a giggle in the first blurry shot ._. Good night!

And the sparrow on weed screeched.

Do i love me?

I type this nursing eyes which have bravely weathered the pain of the past two days of infection. Good job babies.

I went to school for training today with swollen red tiny slits I call eyes and i actually din't mind. I would usually never be caught dead without makeup at all, strangely, in such an ugly state I actually felt less self conscious than i usually do. Which fires off an ironic paradox in my mind which I've yet to figure out. Soon, soon i will and i will be back.

I stared into the questioning eyes of Self-love again today. Much later from the whole dance incident, and was just repeatedly fired the same question , " Do I love me?". After years of playing tug-o-war with the two sides, I still have narry an answer. It annoys me.

Self-esteem issues are like known allergies. Sometimes the allergies affect you as much as a flick of a finger- some rash, some annoyance, some mild discomfort... Othertimes it hits you full blown, red angry bumps of hives, severe annoyance and painful discomfort... You know what blows them up so you avoid them, you teeter around those edges of safety precariously because you never know when you'd fall into that ugly hole. You never know when that unsuspecting hive-inducing peanut is going to spring into your mouth during dessert. You never know when it could hit you, despite all those precautions you take, despite how careful you are... And when it does it bothers you more, because you did try to keep your guard up...but it wouldn't go away.

Then it hurts sometimes and makes it harder to give a nod to the question when people say " I'm afraid to say anything. I don't know what might end up upsetting you. ". It's tantamount to a table of 10 cutting out their coveted order just because it had peanuts and you were allergic to it. It makes you feel bad. Yes you do appreciate their care, but it doesn't make you feel any better. You'd wish you were better. Better enough to not be such an inconvenience. You could be treading around those edges so carefully but just one little slip of accident and the whole world treats you like a seedling.

"Don't apologise. You can, for hurting me. But don't apologise for saying something if you mean it ". I have my times of falter, times when the wind passed is enough to be near breaking me. But I've yet to be.

Bpharm

My bpharm notes which i excitedly showed to joel yesterday when he came over with dinner. I'm so proud of them! Took me bloody long to get them done cos i wanted them to be perfect, colour scheme and all haha. It makes studying for bpahrm much enjoyable tho, cos i structured the notes in the most visually appealing manner to myself. Please let me pass, please let me passssss....

And the sparrow on weed screeched.

“I think love is a useless word for descriptions these days. Love binds and pulls and tugs and shatters, breaks and stirs and murders and revives, all at once. Love is a word turned into a full stop in teenagers’ conversations, peppered all over to spice a bowl of bland sentence soup. Love is an excuse for not loving. Love is an inspiration for the most handsome things in the world. Love is a justification for the ugliest things in the world. Love is indefinable, yet has its place in every single dictionary, in probably every single language.

And I won’t be hypocritical; I’m one of these people who exploit the word like breaths of air. It’s almost like a hello and goodbye in every conversation. It’s a “hey Tim, bye Tim, I love you Tim.” kind of thing. Its things you say drunkenly to strangers, or things you say to people you don’t really care about at all. Yet you can wake up one morning, to the most beautiful face you know, and know that this was the one, this was the one for sure, this was the one that makes your heart want to describe colours that don’t exist and the one that makes you want to stop time as you kiss and you lose your head into a blind space.

And all you could offer is the same “I love you” you praised your mom as she packed you pbnj sandwiches for lunch.

I could say I loved you, and be right and wrong all at once. I could say I loved you, and then squeeze in a “but”, but that would be like drawing a bold line in permanent marker across a Mona Lisa painted in gold with rubies and diamonds embedded in the details. I could say I love you. I could mouth it. Write it down. Paint it on paper and etch it on trees. But no. I don’t love you. I will never say it and mean it.

I will show you.”

—— Nova Halle

Words of affection stirr the murmurs of the heart, but nothing could ever replace the assurance of affection in actions. Found this beautifully written piece online and I couldn't agree with the content more. There would always be times when the words string along the truest of emotions as it's said, but there are others when it's become a watered down version of its original existence- just an acknowledgement of existence to be exact.

Here's Speechless by The Veronicas which lyrics ring true to how i feel now.

And the MBIO paper was pure massacre, it killed me enough times to be one. I spend the last 10 min playing with a beetle crawling across my paper hoping it might grant me with an epiphany of some sort seeing that i saved it from being squashed by exam scripts. What a way to die. While lamenting my woes to joel the words " It's like I'm immune to failure despite hardwork already". Obviously I was pissed that despite studying my mind still drew an almost blank but it's no longer THAT bad. Then it dawned on me that my rebound rate for shit-that-happens was getting better. I guess the cliche is true ( as they always are ) , what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

BPHARM TOMORROW AND THEN MY MIND CAN GO ON A HOLIDAY WHILE MY BODY TOLLS FOR TRAINING. So appealing, really.

4:45am, I have just stirred awake. Stupid alarm, I'd barely had 2 hours of shuteye and here I am up at my table getting ready to douse myself in more content. The coffee's gone, the muffin's barely touched and my cigarettes nearly depleted, I wish I had coffee now. A cup of mocha frappe and a new box of menthols so I wouldn't have to worry about running out. It's been a couple of days but I already miss a life off tenterhooks , of hours of dance and senseless fun and being allow to just heave and breathe and relax. Lying in bed with or without the one i love and slipping off into a blanket of comfort, that safe little blanket of not much to worry about. Now each day i toss in bed alone, I wimper about stress to the love and i slept that little bit less soundly because at the back of my head, something's just nagging at me. So, I guess this is how it is when you're back to piecing a puzzle, mild irritation at the gaps unfixed, mild headache because that incomplete puzzle is staring back at you and mild joy that gets greater as it slowly tumbles to completion. And euphoria, at the end of it. Getting my ass out of school the first puzzle i'll have to fix, and miles to go before i sleep...

Mommy and haul

So my mum went on a little shopping spree and came back with a bagload of haul. Apart from the moshino perfume set and another loewe perfume set, everything else were free gifts from the counter guy! From the guess clutch, to the moschino bag to the beyonce atomizer... :D


i love fragances, my eyes light up everytime i get a new bottle. I've kept all the empty bottles all the way from my first Anna Sui Wish ones. And here's two more to my collection. I am a happy girl, despite my impending doom with mbio. Sigh. I can't wait for freedom from the books.















And finally muffins and coffee to get me through the night.




And the sparrow on weed screeched.

1. Chuzzle the single most awesome game on my iphone

2. I have gone from 'baby' to 'bro' and from 'audrey' to lynard.

3. Some superabsorbent towel turban my mum bought from watson so that water would stop dripping all over the place after i bathe. Yes i do dry my hair, but it seems never ending.

4. How i had to write for half an hour because my finger was bruised from writing too much.



And the sparrow on weed
screeched.

I like it when people put words into actions, when they actually DO reflect when they say they would/do. It's really tiring trying to talk sense with pompous idiots who want to act the top of the game, the masquerade of perfection by easily shooting out the words " I reflect about my actions all the time". The clock will strike eventually, the party will come to a close and the masks would soon drop. Ugly. Ugly is how the after party turns out. It's like spinning the bottle, it's never yours to take when you spin it. Someone else will be choosing truth/dare. Someone else. Someone else, always would.

Nightmares and Beauty

I woke up to the worst nightmare this afternoon, thankfully in the arms of Joel to whom i gasped an exasperated" Oh my god" to . The words of each painful detail rushed out of me, just like my tears. The nightmare was so real and the ache i felt in it was so unimaginably unbearable, an emotion so strong and dreaded , nothing I've ever felt in the waking could compare. But i woke up. The first crack of eye to the rays streaming into my room, the first face that i saw and it sank in " It was only just a dream ". Ironic it was that the face to torment me in my dreams, was the one to soothe me in reality.

Ironic, hauntingly beautiful it is... how dreams can feel so real, how reality can feel so surreal.

wanderlust

So this is Wanderlust II, the part after baby comes over after camp and Max decided to shoot the both of us. Pictures show us in certain states of undress so... if you're uncomfortable, I'd suggest a quick bye.

I have always wanted to take such photos for my wedding but i got to do it now which is beyond awesome for me. Unfortunately, two numb skulls are no better than one so when modelling idiots like me and baby were put up to it, we.... had troubles with poses. Of course we had certain spots of brilliance, but not much haha. One point Max even told us " Oei! This one not wedding photo ! ", generic hold-each-other-and-hug-with-a-smile-of-marital-bliss-face.

So here are the favourites, sans all the cellulite showing, fat blobbling and wonky eyed ones.

SIGH, our kids are destined to have fat cheeks ( ._. ) like us. And my body is aching from the 3 hours of reggae , i predict an extremely stiff neck when i wake up. Now's time to canoodle with my notes again, i wished i had menthols but my sampoerna's have lasted me 5 days now. What a feat.

It's 1.21am and i'm psyching myself to pull an all nighter. Approximately 2 weeks more to my supp papers, such an early preparation is (shamefully) quite new. Even during my chungcheng days i was always a last min mugger, until o levels that is, which i clocked in 7am-9pm book whoring for 3 months straight.


Imagine that, i barely left my table, never allowed myself the slightest enjoyment else i'd be stricken with guilt. The only time i'd be in contact with anyone other than my grandma and aunt was during tuition. Of which i'd stone away drowning in academic text and wistfully listening to my friends planning study outings. I never went for any of those even when they asked, thinking that going out at all meant fun, thinking i wouldn't study, so there i was stuck at my desk.


The conversations i had with my mum never went pass the mark of 5 and were nothing more than calls of 5 short minutes. I never saw her for that 3 months. In fact I never really talked to anyone, trapped deeper within the walls i had imprisoned myself.


There were many a time when i'd break down and cry.. from stress, from the emptiness, from my morbid self esteem issues, from battling ugly anorexia and from the loneliness. But i couldn't let myself falter, i couldn't deal with failure, i couldn't even bear the thought of being an inch away from my perfect streak of A1s, i couldn't bear being anything less than what people expected of me. People. I was anything but happy, i was devoid of much emotion, devoid of attachment to anything or anyone, so much so that i was beginning to feel like a hollow shell.


In retrospect , the one incident still painfully etched in my mind was a call from my mum. One of her sobbing over the other line, my god-grandma had passed on. She was a lady i loved so dearly, caring , understanding , fiercely independent even at 90 and full of spunk. I shed narry a tear, i felt nothing, what was i?


You'd think that so much sacrifice, so much of me that i had lost would at least be justified? But no. I got a 9 , no where near the 6 i wanted. I saw the looks of concern and sorry that classmates threw me when my name wasn't flashed on that huge screen that housed the roll of honours. The almighty audrey goh, one of the few 6 pointers for prelims, had fallen off her pedestal. Crushed was an understatement.


In the months that followed i left the incident at the back of my mind, basking in the joys of love and money earning , telling myself to start anew. I was happy, until school started and unearthed the nightmare i thought i'd buried deep. A small PIPC quiz and there i was tolling into the night, the content a blur and then i broke down, because i nothing was going in, i was barely comprehending anything. What was it worth? 1 per cent of my final grade? And there i was reliving my o level days.

Thereon charted my path of a downward spiral. Torturing me with resonating thoughts that hardwork never pays off. I lost every ounce of interest in school, craving to have what i never allowed myself to have. Freedom, love, fun and happiness. I flew with my heart and clean forgot that i could never navigate without my head. There i was collecting extrinsic tokens of life like they were trophies, thinking that they meant happiness. But what i failed to see were the ugly, rotten holes within me that i never patched up or mended. Disgusting infestations that would eat at me while i was alone, while i was without distractions that i mistook for harbringers of happiness. I was still that sad little girl on the inside, but with different painted scenes on the shell.

I fell further. I gave my all to guys, thinking that love was all i needed. And slowly, as i crawled deeper into their arms, i left behind what made me , me. It showed with my studies, then my blogshop and finally dance. They din't love me for me, they loved what i did for them. What else could it be then ? I was asked to change extrinsic aspects of myself that werent for the better of a relationship but more to fit into their shallow mould of a stepford girlfriend, i was giving my all, forgoing the things i was supposed to do so i could travel back and forth to their houses, to show my face at outings, to spend time with them at their demands. When i couldn't make it , or when i didn't want to go due to things i wanted to do, i was met with displeasure. Some even went to the extent of telling me they'd hate the things i loved doing because i couldn't spend time with them. I relented, foolish, foolish me. I expected lesser and i never got more, was my happiness any less important than theirs? The facade they'd put up from the start couldn't hold, the promises of change couldn't hold, even with a given chance i knew deep down that the cracks would soon start to show. Never, never put up a facade if you can't keep it up. There were no happy endings, no amiable goodbyes, everything came to a close on cracked notes. Sure, i broke hearts, some over again, but sacrifices? I never asked for them, i never made anyone sacrifice anything. Their lives went on as it did before i stepped in. Sure there were happy times, times that i were glad of, times whereby i pushed aside the broken bits to see the joy of love's company, times that i would forever thank them for, but those happy times could and would never ever make up for what i lost.

My stupidity finally took a toll and i sought self-gratification , I needed to do something to comfort myself that i wasn't useless. I had to take pocket money from my mum for a week, and that was the greatest low i could ever allow myself to go, to lose my financial independence. That's when i joined Powerhouse. Despite the unhappiness that it brought to some of the relationships i had to those around me, it is something that i would forever be thankful for. I learnt a lot in those few short months, i met amazing people be it colleagues or customers and i was slowly finding myself. It wasn't easy, juggling late nights, school , dance and emotionally draining problems. But i clung on. At the pinnacle of stress, i would always be thankful for a friend who was there on the phone with me, sadly, whatever ties i had build with that person will forever be broken and I have since moved on.

Months on , here i am. Things are scrambled about here and there , I'm nowhere near where or who i want to be, but with the scrambled pieces that i've picked up, I take a step to them each day. And the support from those closest, makes each step so much more bearable: My best friends Gordon, Nina, Jonas and Brian who would check up on me with encouragements. My grandma who was once the feared empress dowager i was very close to hating (but has now mellowed down) , boils me tonic ever so often , calls once in a while and keeps me in her prayers. My aunty ( also lovingly known as my godma ) who was always the second mother to me. My brother who constantly encourages me with GO STUDY NAOs and incentives of treats of beef to get me going. My mum who has in these few months, at the peak of my difficulty or growing up to put it nicely, has started to understand me more as i open up and shows her support in the most amazing way any child could ask for. During my exams, i had to constantly smoke to calm my nerves down as i burned the night with my head in books. Despite hating it and being greatly upset by the fact , i woke up one morning after she left for work and there on my table was a glass container half-filled with water and a note lovingly written by her that said " Darling, for your butts, please quit after your exams " . I nearly burst into tears after reading the note, that night itself i talked to her of my plans and fufilling my dad's last wish of completing university, something i once threw out of my head. And finally my loving boyfriend Joel, who is more than i could ever ask for in a guy. Constantly showering me with love , care and affection, enduring my emotional breakdowns and telling me that right from the first incident he made a promise to stick by me. He wakes me up everyday for dance or studying even though i have the worst snooze reaction hardwired into myself, chases me off into bed so i have enough rest and never throws a tantrum when i oversleep because he wants me to get more. Random calls from camp would always be punctuated with a " Have you eaten? ", because he's always afraid i'd skip meals. He listens to me as i drone on with the details of life he's missed out but affect me now, like the story above , tries to understand each nuance and notion of it and ends it with a hug and a " what doesn't kill you makes you stronger ". Little things he do that nudge me on my way each day always cheer me up, yesterday was one. He sprung a surprise visit on me as i was sweating it out at training, dropped a burger into my bag and sat at the bench of TCC and just watched me dance. We din't even have a chance to talk as my training was ongoing, communication was as much of the little eye contact i could give, and gigantic heart handsigns that i could afford. I din't even have a chance to say a proper bye, but he din't mind.

So here's my 4 years whittled down to a blogpost of painful lessons, I've never thought that I'll put it up here but now that I've moved on from everything, I finally can bring myself to. It used to be a miasma for a future, it still is but there's a blurred light through the fog now, a point of meaning and destination to my life despite the path yet ventured ahead.

Falling down is hard, but picking yourself up is even harder. But regardless of how long it takes, it's still the most important. I took 4 years, 4 fucking years is a bloody long time. I'd look at these memories in the future relishing the good times i had and the bad? They'd serve as lifetime lessons for when i look back on the past, it'll no longer be a " why do i still feel that i'm still there " but a great big " FUCK YOU, BYE ! ". I type this post not only to lock it in as a memory for myself, but also in hopes that maybe (despite how obscure my blog is) one day some poor soul who is on the verge of throttling down the same path i did, could save himself in time to escape such a crazy tumble, or helping someone who is on the road of similar destruction to heal faster to get back on track. After all, a clever mans learns from his mistakes but a wise man learns from the mistakes of others.

Here's a sweet goodnight to anyone who has used up about 20 minutes of their lives to read this tale and may you be blessed to never be anywhere near the beaten path horribly stomped upon by me. And here's me signing out to kiss my bpharm notes, I AM GOING TO KILL YOUR ASSES YOU FUCKING DRUGS MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Mwah.

And here's my baby Liner, telling every stressed out person to chill out :3

And the sparrow on weed screeched.

Warwick Avenue/ Sweet Disposition

3.58 in the morning...

I'm just done packing my room and I started at 11.oopm. That clocks in at 5 hours but considering the state of chaos my room was in before, I am wonderful. Seriously, there was barely space for me to walk, I had to hop from one tiny empty space to another tiny space to another tiny space to manoeuvre through my room. And yes, not much tiny space for me to hop either. Staring at my fruits of labour makes me so happy I could hop around in circles clapping my hands in glee. The best part of it? MY WARDROBE IS NEAT. NO MORE TEARING THROUGH EVERYTHING TO FIND SOMETHING AGAIN. Keep it that way audrey, keep it that way.

Some Eagles to start off the week...

(just realised the wrong video's been up ._. this is the correct one)

And this gorgeous pas de deux . WOW, like seriously, WOW. I always wanted to dance with my partner and sadly or fortunately, I've never had the chance to do so. So far the best that baby and i have done, is training taekwondo kicks and doing seperate dance styles at the same time.oh well,

AT LEAST MY ROOM IS NEAT TEEHEEEE.

Good night! It's gonna be 7 hours of dance for me later.

Classics always burn in my mind.

2 weeks and a little more till I can loosen the corset in my mind... the one holding me up so tightly I can hardly breathe, the one hugging me in hopes of my attaining perfection though I'm far from it. 20 days seem like so much of a struggle, but there're miles to go before I sleep... but, but what if my time is up and i snuff out at dawn?

My heart goes out to those affected by the Japan tsunami, I'm just glad that those I love are safe and sound. When my mum talks about the world, she sounds far more jaded than her 50 years.. it's the knowing, the the words but the saddest part is the weariness. And this is why i hate flipping the papers, it's filled with so much negativity, but people get used to the pain and what could be worse than getting used to tragedy?

When the 20 days finally bid me farewell, i shall catch a movie alone then lie in bed all day reading and puffing to nothing but The Eagles.

Nothing was ever truely indispensable until you walked in and threw me off completely. You peel off the layers that hid what was once scared to be seen, you caress me with such grace that from pleasure i would wince, you put out the fires i breathe that once sent them all running, you hold me when i'm shaking with fear your voice calming and soothing, you wipe away my tears when they wouldn't stop flowing, and the deepest gem of all that you could ever be, was to look into my soul and love me for what no one else could ever see.

And here i am standing, no creature of habit for love, telling you that i love you and i always will