i’m on an acid trip.

because i just love this song.

Protected: suicide notes.

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

i don’t know why, i just do.

I’m dying, dying to wake up without you, without you in my head again. I’m dying, dying to forget about you, that you ever lived. There’s a shade come over this heart that’s coping with laying down to rest. I’m dying to live without you again. I’m dying, dying to find a distraction, get you away from me. I’m dying, dying to reach a conclusion, so that the world can see. It’s the same old story of love and glory that broke before it bent. I’m dying to live without you again. Dying, dying to die just to come back so we can meet again. Dying, dying to say what I always should have said. It’s a strange emotion but there’s still hope in this. As long as there’s a breath.

I’m dying to live without you again.

Protected: because i’m going mad.

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

amateur takes control.

I think i’m becoming quite mad, updating 3 times in a day or less than 10 hours, but this i just have to let out.

Amateur Takes Control brings out every single emotion, every single thought i just long to put into words from my mind, it just brings everything out and transforms them into notes, into music, into this thing that i live for. Gambate ATC. You Are A Godsend.

In their myspace, ATC says that they sound like your wildest dreams, and in this 3 words, they sum up everything you need to know about this band, everything you would ever want to know about them, except also where their next gig will be (which is 2nd june, The Playden at The Arts House). If anyone wants to go with me, please do let me know, i don’t care if you don’t know me and i don’t know you, i don’t care if we had a past, or if i’ve caused you hurt or you’ve caused me hurt, i don’t care if all we do is listen to ATC without a word spoken between us, but if you want to go for 2nd june, let me know. Go because you want to hear them, not because you’d want to score a date with me (though i think a date with ATC playing would just be the awesomest thing in the entire universe).

Another thing, the most surreal thing just happened to me when i sidetracked from Ukiyoe to Hentai (which is hilarious and which is something i’ll leave for another day) to Naruto and Marilyn Manson’s The Nobodies to Friendster, where i saw i had a new message. I clicked on that message, and the next thing that flashed on my screen was:

Date:	localDateTimewithTimezone(“5/6/2007 8:04 AM”,”timetag1″,”SG”);Sunday, 6 May, 2007 11:4 PM
Subject:	hello~
Message:	I am the officer who checked you sleepin at the staircase on sunday morning. mind tellin what actually happened? i wont disclose it to anyone.

I shall not disclose names or anything else other than this, but when i saw this, i was drinking 100plus with smirnoff and i fucking ran to the sink to half-laugh, half-choke, half-spit/vomit everything in my mouth. It took me 10 frakking minutes (battlestar galactica fans out there! are you frakking outta your mind!) to stop laughing, to stop myself from calling 999 and laughing to the person on the other line while telling him what his comrade just did. I don’t know whether this is funny to you, but it just fucking makes me laugh the crap out of my lungs and stomach muscles.

To the police officer that sent that, i’m truly sorry if i made a fool of you in any way, do know that i sincerely did not mean to, but the surrealness of this whole situation was just too much to take. I’m glad you actually took the effort to find me on friendster (which honestly wasn’t THAT hard since i gave you full particulars) but still, I am perfectly fine and definitely not the picture of broken as which you saw me like on sunday morning. I am very grateful for the care which you showed, and especially for the good natured laugh which you gave me this early morning and brightened up my day

other than that.

And i just realised the past two posts was about how i felt, and nothing about what went on in my life, so i’m gonna do a little bit of that right now. sorry guys if i’ve bored the socks off your feet talking about my fucking feelings. jesus.

Friday I’m In Love. Not really. Lol, friday was crap cos we decided to give our regular indie nights at Home club a miss and head down to Cafe Del Mar. I had high hopes for that place cos well, its a beach club yo! But the service sucked, the ambience sucked, and the music sucked. Not because i wasn’t really into House but mainly cos it wasn’t loud enough and there wasn’t enough crazy people to well, be crazy to. At Home, you could just go up to any random person and scream lyrics to whatever they were spinning, and they’d all scream back (even though they wouldn’t know the lyrics). And then we’d all dance and fucking be high on music alone. But at Cafe Del Mar, everyone was too poised and graceful in their goddamn bikinis and goddamn boobs. The crowd (if there even was one) was just too old and too caught up with being cool to be high. So well, i left to fetch mom and dad from airport cos they came back from China.

Saturday was alot more fun. Shopping in the afternoon with cousin and brother, then Homeclub with the regular kids, Daryl, Amanda, Eunice, Adora, Zach & Yonglian to be exact. We opened two bottles of Smirnoff, had countless glasses of that with redbull and fruit punch, and then some more alchohol in the form of free abscinthe shots from a godsend who opened a bottle and couldn’t finish it. WHOEVER YOU ARE, WE LOVE YOU. WE DO, WE REALLY DO.

After the abscinthe, everything came back up and then it was hello concrete floor, hello what i ate for dinner (which i couldn’t rmb not because of the alchohol, honest), and hello people who are looking for a fight. Not going to elaborate on that though, cos i’m too lazy and cos, well its childish in my opinion. After that, got my phone stolen, got TomYum noodles with Zach and then home on a cab.

Stepped into the house, got screamed at by my brother who thinks that just because he’s 21 he has a right to be a second dad, left the house, went to have breakfast at the market still feeling fantastic, then to the roof of my block to sleep. Then got picked up by the police and then home and bed after. The policemen were nice though, they said i couldn’t sleep at the roof but i could at the void deck though. But i just went home cos i was cold cold cold and i needed my bed.

So that’s like a weekend of my life, and there’ll be lots more after this week is done, because this is all i’m going to do until the day i pick up my senses and realise that being single isn’t doing me any good at all, and that i should fucking find a goddamn boyfriend to pull me out of this cesspool. I know i know, all of you out there would say that I could pick myself out from this place of alchohol and nonstop cigarettes, and become a better person who gives a damn. But honey, right now i’m in a place where i can be happy, even when i don’t choose to. Its just like that song, Lolita by Stereophonics,

Oh we used to meet at the waterfall,
Pink heather on the falling wall,
Nothing to prove,
Oh drank beer from a stolen can,
Smoke cigarettes when we can
Because we like to.

I’ll do it for as long as it makes me happy, because i like to.

the science of being owed.

I’ve worked out a lot of things in my mind after the last post, and a lot of things happened between then and now. Before, i used to think, if i just got an explanation from Edwin why he did this to me, why he chose to break it all off despite saying he loved me, then everything would be okay, because then i’d have gotten closure and i would have gotten an explanation to everything that i had questions to. Basically, i wouldn’t be owed anything anymore. Being owed an explanation was kind of an excuse that i gave myself and everyone else to explain my behaviour, to explain why i felt the way i did.

After i got my explanation from him, i still felt like crap. Only now do i start realising that Edwin could have told me anything – that he loved me, he hated me, he’d been possessed by aliens and the Edwin i knew was now on a different dimension- and it wouldn’t have made a difference.  What good was knowing why things turned out the way they did going to do to me? It didn’t make me any happier. It was like scratching when you have rashes. You think its going to help, and you just keep scratching, but the itch moves away to some other place, and then it moves again. My itch suddenly felt miles away, and i couldn’t have reached with it with the longest arms in the world. Realising that made me fucking scared, scared that i was going to be itchy forever, and i definitely didn’t want that.

The funniest thing about this whole situation is, i’ve been making myself block Edwin out for ages, ever since i got my explanation and after all that hyperventilating at Homeclub. Maltin said, in your life, you’ll always have the memories of the past, the memories of that special guy or girl that was in your life, but what you choose to do with those memories is what matters. You can choose to let those memories take control and consume your life, or you can choose to let them just remain in your heart and mind always, and revisit them as and when you wish to. I chose number 2. And right now, no matter how much i try, i can’t seem to remember Edwin’s face. Its fucking funny to me sometimes, because Edwin is the person i love the most, and yet i can’t even picture his face. Its not really, hahaha funny, but its more of an amusing funny you know? Its just like how someone says a name, say Tony, and you see his hair and he see his clothes and his body, but you can’t really see his face, no matter how hard you try? And now it kind of makes me think, am i like that to Edwin too? That he just can’t seem to picture how i look like? I really hope not.

Not remembering his face makes me cry sometimes, and yet when i do remember his face after looking at pictures, it makes me cry too. Its ironic, isn’t it? Just like how loving him is hard, but not loving him is harder. Just like how i thought knowing the explanation would make me move on quicker, would give me closure, but actually opened up so many more doors to depression. I guess life’s like that, when you’re feeling something that makes you upset, and you think that not feeling it would make it easier. But when you don’t feel it, or anything at all, it just makes you empty inside, and it just makes you dead.

a friend in need’s a friend indeed, a friend with weed is better

“Hard is tring to rebuild yourself, piece by piece, with no instruction book, with no clue as to where all the important bits are supposed to go.”

So now i’m no longer on the verge of calling it quits, not quite anyway. I’ve realised alot of things i never knew before, like how friends play a big part in a suicidal person’s decision. Not that i was really suicidal to begin with, but you never really know when you’re going to do it or whether you really have the balls for that one final push until 2 seconds after you’re off the building do you? Imo anyway.

 I don’t know what difference it makes, its not like I wanted to grab life and embrace it passionately and vow never to let go until it lets go of me. In a way, it makes things worse, not better. Once you stop pretending that everything’s shitty and you can’t wait to get out of it, which is the story i’ve been telling myself for quite awhile, then it gets more painful. Telling yourself life is shit is like an anaesthetic, and when you stop taking the Advil, then you can really tell how much it hurts, and where, and its not like that kind of pain does anyone a whole lot of good.

 You could say i was a fool for thinking that i’ve learnt my lesson after Ronald. I always thought that even though there was a chance Edwin would turn out just like Ronald, i’d always end up getting over it pretty quickly and not cut myself up and think of wanting to throw myself in front of a speeding car. But the truth is, i’ve thought of some pretty darn serious ways to kill myself before, and all these thoughts (and actions) were made with my delusional desperate head at the time when i just broke it off with Ronald, and prolly months after it too. And yet when things ended with me and Edwin, the only tool i had at my disposal to correct the disastrous feelings i had was the same head that caused me to think suicidal thoughts and actually carry them out (albeit unsuccessfully) before in the first place. What was i thinking, telling myself that i’d be perfectly nonchalant just because i’d have learnt my lesson with Ronald?

 The truth is, no matter how much heartbreak you’ve been through, no matter how many so-called life lessons you’ve learnt, none of it would be any fucking help when you’ve had your heart broken. The only help that’s going to work is not to fall in love in the first place. And who can control something like that? When you love a person this much, as much as i loved Edwin, and you get your heart broken, its no longer your mind that thinks and tells you to stop being such a wallowing self pitious bitch, and its no longer the tool that you can depend on for salvation.

 Put it this way, your heart controls your mind, and when your heart is broken, it feels like every fucking part of your body is just dead. Its a fucking catch-22 actually, we wouldn’t know which controls which right? But think of it, when your heart stops beating, your mind stops telling you to breathe, and in the end, you just fucking die.

 To each and everyone of my friends out there, this is how i feel, each and every single moment of each and every single day i’m still living. I’m basically just dead in my heart and in my mind and in every part of my body, because when Edwin left, he left my heart broken, shattered and irreparable. 

 So, i said all these only because i only have a question for you guys, what’s the point of living when i’m just dead inside?