you just might make me believe


what's your mode of transport?
mine is the sun.
when it rises dripping from
the sea when it falls like honey on
the trees when it swallows up
clouds my soul moves with it.

mine is you.
when you lift your eyes
when you look straight ahead
when you try to speak my
heart moves with you.



and then I dream of snow.
4:58:00 PM
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
bop to the top
Whenever I start youtubing Josh Groban, or start admiring the decorated trees at Ikea or listen (happily) to 3637253 renditions of "White Christmas", I know then that Christmas has finally arrived. I get an awful feeling (but am secretly satisfied since I actually know these songs!) when christmas music blares non-stop at NTUC and I'm actually humming along, loud enough to scare little kids ("No, there's no ghost of christmas past, dear.. just that weird girl over there by the bread section"). I don't celebrate it but heck it's just fun to pretend to be.

I'm slowly coming to a point where I'm tired of keeping up appearances- the appearance of actually having a 'life' (what? I'm not breathing properly enough for you now?), of having a 'careless but together' look (which isn't possible without a stylist team of 10) or the appearance of having a good head on my shoulders (which seems like all there is to me these days). 

I'm starting to have doubts about how fantastic facebook is. It's so pressurizing to not seem boring or nerdy or square- all of which I admit I'm totally guilty of. Doesn't help matters much when I openly envy people who are blessed with amazing hair/skin/teeth/body/brains that puts normal folks like me to shame.

(Oh I'm starting to refuse to believe in compliments especially from people unfortunate enough to witness my 'highs'. Yes, that means all of you. um yeah, sorry. It feels so tactless in a diplomatic kinda way somehow. Criticisms? Yeah sure. The wanna-strip-your-skin-off-and-bury-yourself-alive kind. Brutal, but i'ld know that most of it are the truths.)

Start stop, start stop. You know I don't know what I'm talking about sometimes.
Don't ask me questions you already know the answer to.

I know too many girls. No wonder my ma's worried about me. It's scarier to be a girl these days though. I'm like riding on so many social expectations that it freaks me out sometimes. "Don't force it, just let it run its course" motto is dying a very slow painful PAINFUL death. 

Personally, I'm beginning to hate the sun. Everything comes out.



And I'm sick of all my judges
So scared of what they'll find
But I know that I can make it
As long as somebody takes me home
now and then.
-Sam's Town, The Killers



honesty is the best policy