Peccatum Tacituritatis

honey...something's wrong huh?

2009-03-22T11:13:00.003+11:00

Things happen. People do things. I mean it's not pretty.. It's not Disney.. But it's the real world.
You don't want a life separate from them...but that's all they can give you. But you don't want that. They don't get it.
And you wait.

God you wait.

It's like they're driving a car..and you just wanna be in the passenger seat. But they've locked the door..so you have to hold on to the bumper. You know..you're not even asking them to open the door for you. Just...leave it unlocked and say 'come in'.

But no.
They don't do that.

So you're hanging onto the bumper and life goes on.
And the car goes on.
And you get really badly bruised and hit potholes..and it hurts.
I mean it hurts.
So eventually you need to let go of the bumper because it hurts too much.
It hurts too much.

How long's it been??

2009-03-22T10:57:00.002+11:00

Who knows...almost a year? meh.
In that time I've retired..I've retired..become a stupid student again..and I want to retire.
It's not looking good.
Although. The intermediate portions in between were interesting. Who knew that being extremely happy & incredibly sad at the same time actually tended to negate the happy. How awful's that? Doesn't seem fair. Now if I was supreme ruler of the galaxy and physical laws followed my teachings..then the world would be a much better place.
Amen.

And here it is again. Almost 3 years later.

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts

That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair

And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint

And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames

And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about

And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her

That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch

And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about

And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.

...

2008-07-26T19:13:00.003+10:00

It's often said that no matter the truth.. People see what they want to see. Some people might take a step back and find out they were looking at the same big picture all along. Some people might see that their lies have almost caught up to them. Some people may see what was there all along.

And then there are those other people.. The ones who run as far as they can..

So they don't have to look at themselves.

2008-07-09T23:44:00.003+10:00

At this moment there are 6,502,867,120 people in the world, give or take a few. And sometimes all you need is one. For better or worse.

There is a tide in the affairs of men... Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. But omitted, and the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and miseries... On such a full sea are we now afloat... And we must take the current when it serves... Or lose the ventures before us.

As happens sometimes a moment settled...And hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped...for much, much more than a moment.

And then the moment was gone.

The best rendition of happy birthday ever!

2008-07-09T23:24:00.004+10:00

Ok here you are working hard.

2008-07-09T23:11:00.002+10:00

Looking suspiciously around for any potential ball-thieves.
With both hands grabbing the ball like it's gold.
And proof of the hard work in the spaghetti strap knee tape.
Well done!

Now Pearline...

2008-07-09T23:09:00.001+10:00

I know you'll feel left out...cos everyone wants to be in the cool defensive unit... so... yes. We like you too.

I like this photo...

2008-07-09T22:59:00.003+10:00

*Ahem* the defensive unit! (The C is so not included).

Notice how GD is all tired with her eyes closed...cos she worked sooo hard.

The GK...she worked LESS in her ONE THIRD..but the head tilt suggests some fatigue.

Now let's focus on the WD. Who's so UN-TIRED that she can march off like she's at the NDP.

...

2008-01-28T12:00:00.000+11:00

It is man’s ability to remember that sets us apart. We are the only species concerned with the past. Our memories give us voice.. Bear witness to history..
So that others might learn.
So they may celebrate our triumphs.
And be warned of our failures.

There are many ways to define our fragile existence.. Many ways to give it meaning.

But it is our memories that shape its purpose… Give it context.
A private assortment of images, fears, loves, regrets..

For it is the cruel irony of life that we are destined to hold the dark with the light.. The good with the evil.. Success with disappointment.

This is what separates us.. It makes us human.

And in the end..
What we must fight to hold on to.

Previously on survivor...

2007-10-07T23:16:00.000+10:00

No... wait.

It's Prison Break. Prison Break, Panama.

Right.

2007-10-07T23:06:00.000+10:00

The sun rises on a new dawn. Yet few of us realize the debt we owe to those responsible for this. To those who dwell among us.

Anonymous.

Seemingly ordinary.

Who destiny brought together to repair. To heal.

To save us from ourselves.

And they’re still out there.

Among us. In the shadows. In the light. We pass them on the street without a glance.

Never suspecting.

Never knowing.

Do they even know yet? That they are bound together by common purpose.
A glaring reality.
To be extraordinary.

And when destiny does anoint them, how do they hide from it? How long can they dwell in the shadows before either fate or their own flawed humanity draws them out into the light, again.

How will they know what awaits them when it finally does?

The final epilogue...

2007-09-27T12:26:00.000+10:00

In an interview and online chat, Rowling gave additional information on the futures of the main characters that she chose not to include in the epilogue of the book. She stated that:

Harry becomes an Auror for the Ministry of Magic, and is later appointed head of the department. He keeps Sirius's motorcycle, which Arthur Weasley repaired for him, but he can no longer speak Parseltongue after Voldemort's soul fragment inside him was destroyed.
Ginny Weasley plays for the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team for a time, leaves to establish a family with Harry and later becomes the lead Quidditch correspondent for the Daily Prophet.
Ron Weasley works at George's store, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, then joins Harry as an Auror.
Hermione finds her parents in Australia and removes the memory modification charm she put on them. She initially works for the Ministry of Magic in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, greatly improving life for house elves and their ilk. She later moves to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and assists in eradicating oppressive, pro-pureblood laws.

Rowling also explained the fates of several secondary characters:

George Weasley continues his successful joke shop and names his first child Fred, in memory of his late twin brother.
Luna Lovegood searches the world for odd and unique creatures. She eventually marries Rolf, a grandson of the famed naturalist, Newt Scamander. Her father's publication, The Quibbler, has returned to its usual condition of "advanced lunacy" and is appreciated for its unintentional humour.
Firenze is welcomed back into his herd, who finally acknowledge the virtue of his pro-human leanings.
Dolores Umbridge is arrested, interrogated, and imprisoned for crimes against Muggle-borns.

There have been transformations in the wider wizarding world:

Kingsley Shacklebolt is the permanent Minister for Magic, with Percy Weasley working under him as a high official. Among the reforms introduced by Shacklebolt, Azkaban no longer uses Dementors. Consequently, the world is now a "much sunnier place". Harry, Ron, and Hermione have also been instrumental in reforming the Ministry.
At Hogwarts, Slytherin House has become more diluted and is no longer the pureblood bastion it once was, although its dark reputation lingers.
Voldemort's jinx on the Defence Against the Dark Arts (DADA) position is broken with his death. There is now a permanent DADA teacher.
A portrait of Snape, who briefly served as Hogwarts Headmaster, does not appear in the headmaster's office as he abandoned his post. Harry intends to lobby for the addition of Snape's portrait, and publicly reveals Snape's steadfastness.

Larger than life..

2007-09-27T11:37:00.000+10:00

By Melbournian Don Mueck...

I stole this from Jean...

2007-09-10T23:45:00.000+10:00

Just because it meant alot to me. This series. These people. And yes Jean...I'm so gonna miss playing with you. It has been a long time hasn't it? Our...understanding. And though we connect well with everyone on the team..the team that's been together since 2005..you're still my partner in that circle. 8 years...dwindling down to the last 2 months. Oh it's gonna be sad.

This series. These people. You mean alot to me. Our last game in front of the home crowd. The last time people actually badger us for our signatures or photos because they actually know who we are (you'll experience a more detached crowd at worlds). And thank you. I forgot you know. Although I whined at Kate to put me on for at least a minute a game so I reached 50..I totally forgot. And you made it special. All of you.

Again I say..through the drama and weird decisions and crazy things thrown at us..we're still a team. All of us. And it's the last year this team will be together. So let's enjoy it. Let's understand that when you strip it all down..it's still about winning. And that's why certain things were done a certain way. I'm not saying I agree with it. But it's done.

And for me...it's not a facade. I'm truly happy playing in this team. Some may say it's because I get to play. Some may say I don't understand. But I do. I understand how frustrating it is not to get a chance sometimes. How low you feel. And it may not be fair. But sometimes...team sport...focuses on what's best for the team. Oh well.

But...

2007-08-24T01:47:00.000+10:00

It'd better be the Fourth one that counts.
Hear that?

FOURTH.
FINAL.
FINITO.

capisce?
comprende?
savvy?

That's the extent of my other-than-english linguistic capabilities. The last one may be pirate-of-the-caribbeanish.

Three in Twenty-Two is Bad Enough.

2007-08-24T01:43:00.000+10:00

Harry Potter 7 (don't read it if you don't want to know)

2007-07-22T12:08:00.001+10:00

After sleeping overnight outside borders and waiting for 8 hours to get my hands on it and finally finishing it all in one day...I'm finally done with harry potter.

closure?

maybe.

you could say that.

that woman managed to make the book both a memorium to all other books and an awesome adventure to end all the others.

She managed to answer most questions.

She managed to vindicate Snape.

She managed to make you hate Dumbledore and then love him all over again.

She managed to incorporate the best part of the bible into the end (oh popey's not gonna be pleased).

But best of all...she didn't kill the 3 main guys off. In fact..only Fred, Lupin and Tonks got the cut. Although she did terrify (not exaggerating) me at one point.. when harry finally understood that he was a hocrux as well, and that he'd have to die. There was this whole chapter..dedicated to his fears of death..of how he'd always managed to escape it but was now asked to willingly choose it. About saving the lives of all the others.

And when he was killed (aka crucifixion) and talked to Dumbledore (aka god) and was not indeed dead (aka resurrection), and subsequently managed to kill voldy using nothing but expelliarmus, there was a certain beauty to it all.

His 'signature' spell.

Not to mention neville being able to pull out griffindor's sword from the sorting hat to kill a snake. again...poetry. I remembered why the chamber of secrets was my (previous) favourite.

19 years later...married to ginny with kids named James, Albus Severus, and Lily...and sending them off at platform 93/4... symmetry.

It's been a good series. started reading it in j1 i think...when miffy was all crazy about it and forcing it down our throats. so i did. we had the 1st 2 books at home...my mum had bought it for my (then) 11yo sis.

And i read them.

And i couldn't stop.

By that time the 3rd book was out as well. I remember buying it from Sunny at Far East.

And then waiting.

Waiting for the goblet of fire.

Waiting every 2 years for the order of the phoenix, the half blood prince and finally..now..the deathly hallows. Intermittently cursing the woman for taking her own sweet time and for killing Sirius or Dumbledore.

But now it's all over..i'm happy.

happy with the ending.

and ready to read the final book again..and again..and maybe..again. Heh.

over time..you could see it..morphing from a childrens book to an adult one. the phrasing changed. the complexity expanded. the concept of 'good always triumphing over evil' and 'happily ever after' was tested and sometimes forsaken as a lost cause. emotions for this imaginary boy and his friends grew to ridiculous proportions. what can i say..i'm happy to be one of them. he who hasnt read all the books, or followed the journey through will never understand the pull. will never understand why we needed dumbledore's death to be fake. why we couldn't bear the thought of ron or hermione dying but were ready and bracing ourselves. (All this didn't really happen by the way..it was all theory..what else can you expect people to do in the 2 years between books?)

oh well.

it was a breath-taking ride.

worth every second.

worth all the obsession.

worth being in my life for the last 8 years.

and now..it's done.

"and that my friend is what they call..closure".

2007-07-19T00:48:00.001+10:00

people irritate me sometimes. the ones that aren't supposed to you know? the ones who claim they don't know they matter. how many times do i have to say the same thing before it sinks in? or is it some sort of perverse psychological game that i've obviously failed to get a grasp on? well..i'm tired. so either say what you really want to or stop. even a simple conversation turns sour because of some stupid trivial matter. and it's not like you dont do it too. i'm tired of people. of bloody homo sapiens. we're such stupid god-forsaken sadistic animals. of all the wonders that could have emerged via evolution.. of all the infinite possibilities or capabilities.. What singles us out is the consciousness that we're conscious. great. i think i'll pass thanks.

The sis at it again..

2007-07-15T20:06:00.001+10:00

So, the sister's back for her mid-term break, and.. well..

I was telling her that I taught Ling a phrase the other day..not really a phrase but..

Anyway I go "Yeah, Ling's trying to learn English stuff, and I taught her what mutually exclusive was. I told her that 'Jean' and 'smart' were mutually exclusive". And she didn't laugh. She goes..."Huh? But that doesn't make sense". So I asked her why..and she goes "Doesn't mutually exclusive mean that you're going out with someone EXCLUSIVELY, and that the decision for it was come to MUTUALLY?"

...

Sigh.

Maybe I shouldn't be focusing on Ling and should turn some attention onto her.

16 days to go....till my life as i know it ends..

2007-07-05T16:05:00.000+10:00

2007-07-01T12:36:00.000+10:00

What can i say? I always knew that I'd never be able to hold on. At first it was more a question of what the hell is this. And then it moved on to what can this become. And then it suddenly evolved into it's all there is.

But.

I always knew that I'd screw up somehow. Being me. It's not that surprising is it?

But I assure you I did try.

Because there was finally something worth trying for.

Rules?

There are no rules right?

Except there are.

But for once in my life they didn't feel stifling or binding or imposed. They were something I was willing to give a go...happy to follow. Because of what they meant. What they implied.

But.

I always knew that I'd screw up somehow. Being me. It's not that surprising at all.

And I assure you I did try.

Because there was finally something worth trying for.

But trying isn't good enough.

And neither am I.

2007-06-29T21:24:00.000+10:00

When you go
Don't ever think
I'll make you try to stay
And maybe when you get back
I'll be off to find another way

When after all this time that you still owe
You're still, the good-for-nothing I don't know
So take your gloves and get out
Better get out
While you can

When you go
Would you even turn to say
"I don't love you
Like I did
Yesterday"

Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading
So sick and tired of all the needless beating
But baby when they knock you
Down and out
It's where you oughta stay

And after all the blood that you still owe
Another dollar's just another blow
So fix your eyes and get up
Better get up
While you can

When you go
Would you even turn to say
"I don't love you
Like I did
Yesterday"

When you go
Would you have the guts to say
"I don't love you
Like I loved you
Yesterday"

I don't love you
Like I loved you
Yesterday

ALBERT EINSTEIN'S RIDDLE <- i dont think he really made this up..but it's fun to figure out anyway

2007-06-22T16:20:00.000+10:00

There are no tricks, just pure logic, so good luck and don't give up.

1. In a street there are five houses, painted five different colours.
2. In each house lives a person of different nationality
3. These five homeowners each drink a different kind of beverage, smoke different brand of cigar and keep a different pet.
THE QUESTION: WHO OWNS THE FISH?

HINTS
1. The Brit lives in a red house.
2. The Swede keeps dogs as pets.
3. The Dane drinks tea.
4. The Green house is next to, and on the left of the White house.
5. The owner of the Green house drinks coffee.
6. The person who smokes Pall Mall rears birds.
7. The owner of the Yellow house smokes Dunhill.
8. The man living in the centre house drinks milk.
9. The Norwegian lives in the first house.
10. The man who smokes Blends lives next to the one who keeps cats.
11. The man who keeps horses lives next to the man who smokes Dunhill.
12. The man who smokes Blue Master drinks beer.
13. The German smokes Prince.
14. The Norwegian lives next to the blue house.
15. The man who smokes Blends has a neighbour who drinks water.

Ode to the team..

2007-06-20T02:06:00.000+10:00

I'm tired. Of alot of things. Of work.. Of training.. Of thinking.. You would think that I'd learn. To stop. Or. Something to that effect. But. Work. Is work. It's needed. It's something that everyone has to do. Right? (Cue the unemployed-and-loving-every-minute-of-it music [which sounds remarkably like the Gatsby-moving-rubber song] for the magpie). Which leaves...training. NSL's just over..now it's back to open training and national league (which isn't really a factor). Training 6 days a week...for a competition eons away...after (stupid) work..is bloody taxing. I find myself sleeping in the car at the knc carpark (while drooling and blowing saliva bubbles Marie tells me). And. Training. Although Vane makes things way easier by doing everything for me (I think she'd even tape my ankles and put my shoes on for me if she could - and I love her for it)...training's still. Training. Tiring. It's making me incoherent. But. Again with the 'but'. No matter what crap we go through...through the politics and the bitching and the drama, I find myself enjoying the time I spend with these teammates (yes yes Pearline..friends). Having dinner after training, going to watch movies, soccer games, whatever, it's all...it's weird how we don't seem to get tired of seeing each other. I mean. Aren't we supposed to? Chin's asked us if we don't see each other through the week except for weights (given the amount of noise we make during each and every session). I don't know. This team.. it's special. I was telling Pearline...we may not be the most talented batch that's been around. That's a given. We have the lee lees and the cats and the ailings to measure up to. But in terms of closeness and kinship and overall team performance, I have to say we kick ass. And after all...it is a team game isn't it? I was seriously amazed in Samoa. How we've grown. How we...how so many of us stepped up. How they can't call any of us 'young and inexperienced' anymore (er..the young part doesn't apply to Jean, Pearline, Lix and J9 - just clarifying). So. Although we're too competitive for our own good (cough -warm up games [and now even cool down games]- cough).. this team's a great thing. Through the encouragement and the yelling and the tears and the joy (and the dinners and the durian and the kinesio tape and the laughter at tight training shorts and the accusation of match fixing by Vicki), we've emerged as 'us'. Although all teams are fluid..with people coming and going...the core of the whole thing still remains. We may not get into the team. We may not get to play when we desperately want to. There'll always be issues. But seriously.. I've never had more fun. And no matter how tired I am or how pissed off I am when I get to kallang, you make things better. I can't help but laugh during training. I can't help but smile at the stupid things we do. I can't help enjoying training with you all, and dinner or whatever after and things thrown in the middle here and there. So guys... Thanks.

P.S. Look out for Lix's new and upcoming blog http://whosthebiggestwinner.blogspot.com/. Although she's still having issues with figuring out the mouse thing.

P.P.S. It might take a little while in being posted as Lix is coping with a (pretend) pregnancy that was detected by pink puke on Litmus paper.

P.P.P.S. Lix's (pretend) pregnancy gives her cravings for fettucini alfredo mixed in (that's right, in) coke.

P.P.P.P.S. This all rides on the fact that someone (whose name shall not be mentioned) knows how the whole how-to-get-pregnant thing works.

NSL 2007

2007-06-17T21:04:00.000+10:00

Vipers...

2 beloved people in yellow.. (er..besides me)

Yellow shoes...gone into retirement. Red ones will make their debut for open..
(p.s. thanks again to darren..)

The only reason to watch spiderman 3..

2007-06-17T19:55:00.000+10:00

oh the profound...

2007-06-17T01:48:00.000+10:00

I am an atheist. I am also an asantaclausist and an aeasterbunnyist.

in the image of god.

2007-06-17T01:36:00.000+10:00

It is the nature of the universe to combine and build and become more complex..moving towards order and combinations of ordered things. The universe began in absolute simplicity, and it has been getting more complex for about 16 billion years. It is moving toward some kind of ultimate complexity. We might not get there. An atom of hydrogen might not get there, or a leaf or a man or a planet. But we are all moving towards it. Our planet may be destroyed by an asteroid, or the sun may die out, but the process would continue. We are ourselves the expression of that process. Our bodies are the children of all the suns and other stars that died before us, making the atoms that we are made of. Ultimate complexity is...god. For want of a better word.

Binker

2007-06-16T01:33:00.000+10:00

Binker - what I call him - is a secret of my own,

And Binker is the reason why I never feel alone.

Playing in the nursery, sitting on the stair,

Whatever I am busy at, Binker will be there.

Oh, Daddy is clever, he's a clever sort of man,

And Mummy is the best since the world began,

And Nanny is Nanny, and I call her Nan -

But they can't See Binker.

Binker's always talking, 'cos I'm teaching him to speak

He sometimes likes to do it in a funny sort of squeak,

And he sometimes likes to do it in a hoodling sort of roar...

And I have to do it for him 'cos his throat is rather sore.

Oh, Daddy is clever, he's a clever sort of man,

And Mummy knows all that anybody can,

And Nanny is Nanny, and I call her Nan -

But they don't Know Binker.

Binker's brave as lions when we're running in the park;

Binker's brave as tigers when we're lying in the dark;

Binker's brave as elephants. He never, never cries...

Except (like other people) when soap gets in his eyes.

Oh, Daddy is Daddy, he's a Daddy sort of man,

And Mummy is as Mummy as anybody can,

And Nanny is Nanny, and I call her Nan...

But they're not Like Binker.

Binker isn't greedy, but he does like things to eat,

So I have to say to people when they're giving me a sweet,

'Oh, Binker wants a chocolate, so could you give me two?'

And I eat it for him, 'cos his teeth are rather new.

Well, I'm very fond of Daddy, but he hasn't time to play,

And I'm very fond of Mummy, but she sometimes goes away,

And I'm often cross with Nanny when she wants to brush my hair..

But Binker's always Binker, and is certain to be there.

the magpie's joke of the day..

2007-06-08T01:41:00.001+10:00

why is six afraid of seven?
because seven eight nine..

2007-06-04T16:26:00.001+10:00

there are worse things than being worse than married.

oh the whinging and the whining...

2007-06-04T00:17:00.000+10:00

I was out with the bird today...and we sat down for a long while looking at the crazy children dancing on those er.. para para dance machines. And they were all donned in these crazy-arse outfits...with crazy-arse hairdos and crap. And there was one chick, who looked no more than 12, who was dancing the sluttiest jig that I've ever seen. And we were marvelling at her utter... lack of self-consciousness... or the fact that the people ogling at her were actually laughing. Kids these days..they're just...crap. In OUR day...we played to have fun. We cycled, swam, kicked a ball about, or something to that effect. We didn't sit and stone in front of computers...killing makeshift zombies..or go to arcades dressed as hookers with eyeliner running down our faces. Sigh. I don't know what's sadder about all this...the kids..or the fact that we've started saying "in our days..". Heh.

Another note...we actually made it to the NSL finals next week. I'm amazed. Kudos to the shooters who...well...shot! We were actually quite impressed that we won. Unexpected. Very.

A third note. More relative to the title of the post. Oh My God <--blasphemy at its best. What's with all the bloody drama surrounding this game? If we LAUGH on the bloody court..rest assured it's NOT at the opposition (except..well..if they do stupid things like go "OIIIII!!!!!!!" as though they're dying). It's not at the fact that we're winning. It's NOT in any way insinuating that we think we're BETTER than you. Sigh. We laugh at ourselves. We laugh whether we're up or down. Against Marlins 2 weeks ago...we were laughing because we were enjoying ourselves. They were laughing too. Did that mean we didn't respect each other? No. Against Arrowanas...we laughed at the skinny-ass shooter when she "Oi-ed". (More accurately, I laughed at her). Did she throw a hissy-fit and sit down and sulk? No. She smiled back cos she knew it was rubbish. Against Force on wednesday...Yes. Jean and I laughed when we did stupid things. We were laughing at ourselves. Not laughing because we knew we were going to win and so we decided 'twas time to be arrogant and condescending. No. Laughing because it's how we play. We laughed against the tuna in Samoa. We were losing. We laughed because that's how we talk to each other...to tell each other what to do the next time. Maybe (just maybe)... if you focussed on your own game instead of what expression everyone's wearing on court... things would be easier. I don't know la...this is becoming very dramatic. In some realities...laughing is a good thing. Obviously not in ours.

P.S. Lix's new blog is going to be http://ihateyellow.blogspot.com . If she ever figures out how to use a mouse.

2007-06-02T23:31:00.000+10:00

Don't you worry about the distance
I'm right there if you get lonely
Give this song another listen
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice it's my disguise
I'm by your side

A thousand miles seems pretty far
But they've got planes and trains and cars
I'd walk to you if I had no other way
Our friends would all make fun of us
and we'll just laugh along because we know
That none of them have felt this way
I can promise you
That by the time we get through
The world will never ever be the same
And you're to blame

You be good and don't you miss me
Two more years and you'll be done with school
And I'll be making history like I do
You know it's all because of you
We can do whatever we want to
here's to you
This one's for you

The kill (bury me)

2007-06-01T23:06:00.000+10:00

What if I wanted to break
Laugh it all off in your face
What would you do?

What if I fell to the floor?
Couldn’t take this anymore
What would you do, do, do?

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you

What if I wanted to fight
Beg for the rest of my life
What would you do?
You say you wanted more
What are you waiting for?
I’m not running from you

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you

Look in my eyes
You’re killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you

I tried to be someone else
But nothing seemed to change
I know now, this is who I really am inside

Finally found myself
Fighting for a chance
I know now, this is who I really am

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you

Look in my eyes
You’re killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you

Come break me down
Break me down
Break me down

What if I wanted to break?

DEAR PEARLINE...

2007-05-29T02:27:00.000+10:00

You are my hero. Well done on Saturday. But. You've got to learn how to yell at people. Yelling at them and smiling at the same time sort of defeats the purpose. =]

Love, PREM (not Ting...see aren't you honoured??)

2007-05-26T02:07:00.000+10:00

Sometimes I wonder if anything is absolute anymore. Is there still right and wrong. Good and bad. Truth and lies. Or is everything negotiable. Left to interpretation. Grey. Sometimes we're forced to bend the truth. Transform it. Because we're faced with things that are not of our own making. And sometimes, things simply catch up to us. Truth is still absolute. Believe that. Even when that truth is hard and cold and more painful than you ever imagined. And even when truth is more cruel than any lie.

Where does it come from. This quest. This need to solve life's mysteries when the simplest of questions can never be answered. Why are we here. What is the soul. Why do we dream. Perhaps we'd be better off not looking at all. Not delving. Not yearning. But that's not human nature. Not the human heart. That is not why we are here. Yet still we struggle to make a difference, to change the world, to dream of hope. Never knowing for certain who we will meet along the way. Who among the world of strangers will hold our hand. Touch our hearts. And share the pain of trying. We dream of hope. We dream of change. Of fire, of love, of death. Then it happens. The dream becomes real. And the answer to this quest to solve life's mysteries finally shows itself. Like the glowing light of the new dawn. So much struggle for meaning, and for purpose. And in the end we find it only in each other, our shared experience in the fantastic, and the mundane. The simple human need to define a kindred, to connect, and to know in our hearts, that we are not alone.

2007-05-16T08:54:00.000+10:00

and only one song keeps repeating over and over again. except instead of love, me it's love me.

2007-05-16T08:52:00.001+10:00

and people would kill?
yeah, maybe.
but who wants people?
people isn't you.

THAT song?

2007-05-16T08:48:00.000+10:00

I think it applies more from me to you than you to me. Why didn't you need me as much...?

If you thought death personified was bad..

2007-05-15T12:55:00.000+10:00

You'd be in for a treat right now. The word 'empty' just doesn't cut it. I'm done.

It's the heart, afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance
It's the dream, afraid of waking, that never takes a chance
It's the one, who won't be taken, who cannot seem to give
It's the soul, afraid of dying, and never learns to live

2007-05-06T04:12:00.000+10:00

Leaving tomorrow. 2 weeks of no work, netball and more netball. I'd rather just have the former and days of lazing around. That should so be offered as a job opportunity. I'd be employee of the year.

There we go...

2007-05-02T01:06:00.000+10:00

Babaji in all her *cough* glory..=]

2007-05-02T00:58:00.000+10:00

After all the crap that we’ve been through together…we had a light guiding us towards the end of that tunnel. A faint glimmer of hope…a distant and suddenly not-so-distant prospect. Of the team…that team…together again. One last hurrah. Before retirement for most of us. And yes…Yan’s torn her acl, but I believe she’ll be back in time. I have faith in her.. way more than I would have had for myself. And we’ll only be ‘we’ again when babaji’s back.

On another note.

You’re not the first to play a sport. You’re not the first to have to juggle work and studies and training and games and a social life. You’re definitely not the first. And by complaining and whinging, do you truly think that you’re making an impact on anyone? You think anyone feels sorry for you? No. Because we’ve all been there. In fact…we’re still there. We have work. And studies. And family. And friends. And partners. I don’t deny that I whinge. Boy do I whinge. I whinge to anyone and anything that stays put long enough. And I’m bitter too. I’m bitter about having to wake up at 7 and work till half 6 and train till half 9 with only Friday nights off. With the lovely prospect of not getting into the team ever-looming over my head. As it is for everyone else. But we all do it. Some put off having a kid. Some work till midnight so they can take time off for training tours. Some defer their studies. And some find time to study and train at the same time (miracle of all miracles). No one said it was going to be easy. We chose this. We chose it because there is nothing greater than wearing that (ugly) bodysuit onto the court. And because this team is way more than just a team. So if you don’t, don’t bother. Because this isn’t for you.

Maybe the answer doesn’t lie in mastering the art of juggling.

Maybe it lies in your competence.
Or incompetence.

On a third note.

You need to be arrogant in sports. Ask Kate. She'll say it's a strength. And I'd rather be arrogant any day than hold grudges against colours.

Alert! The sister is watching porn. Please monitor.

2007-05-02T00:36:00.000+10:00

2007-05-02T00:33:00.000+10:00

The perfect words never crossed my mind
Cause there was nothing in there but you
I felt every ounce of me, screaming out
But the sound was trapped deep in me

All I wanted, just sped right past me
But I was rooted fast to the earth
I could be stuck here for a thousand years
Without your arms to drag me out

There you are, standing right in front of me
All this fear falls away, you leave me naked
Hold me close, cause I need you to guide me to safety

No, I won't wait forever

In the confusion, and the aftermath
You are my signal fire
The only resolution and the only joy
Is the faint spark of forgiveness in your eyes

There you are, standing right in front of me
All this fear falls away, you leave me naked
Hold me close, cause I need you to guide me to safety

No, I won't wait forever (x3)

2007-05-02T00:28:00.000+10:00

if i don't say this now i will surely break
as i'm leaving the one i want to take
forgive the urgency but hurry up and wait
my heart has started to separate

there now, steady love, so few come and don't go
will you won't you, be the one i always know
when i'm losing my control, the city spins around
you're the only one who knows, you slow it down

if ever there was a doubt
my love she leans into me
this most assuredly counts
she says most assuredly

it's always have and never hold
you've begun to feel like home
what's mine is yours to leave or take
what's mine is yours to make your own

Spidey 3 - The origins of Venom

2007-05-01T23:43:00.000+10:00

And demise of course...

2007-04-30T09:13:00.000+10:00

i don't like goodbyes. they happen way too often..every single day in fact. and each goodbye kills you just that little bit more..until you're not so sure how much of you is even left. you feel...fragmented. and yet you feel the same unrelentless loss over and over again. you would think it becomes easier. after all...people always leave right? but it doesn't. it doesn't. it doesn't make sense that you don't become desensitized to it. it doesn't make sense that it eats away at you again and again yet you don't find some way to stop the pain. and it doesn't make sense that you love it. because feeling the hurt of each goodbye... is better by far than feeling nothing at all. and getting to feel each goodbye... means that at some point... there was a hello.

who could be happy?

2007-04-27T02:18:00.000+10:00

You could be happy and I won't know

But you weren't happy the day I watched you go

And all the things that I wished I had not said

Are played on loops 'till it's madness in my head

Is it too late to remind you how we were

But not our last days of silence, screaming, blur

Most of what I remember makes me sure

I should have stopped you from walking out the door

You could be happy, I hope you are

You made me happier than I'd been by far

Somehow everything I own smells of you

And for the tiniest moment it's all not true

Do the things that you always wanted to

Without me there to hold you back, don't think, just do

More than anything I want to see you girl

Take a glorious bite out of the whole world

Kudos to Lix...

2007-04-24T01:25:00.000+10:00

There really is a movie titled 200-pound beauty. BUT..there's also a show titled 21-inched blah blah..which IS R-21. You can see why we presumed she'd be watching that one...all decked out in her cardigan sally garb. Although...i'll have to admit that the 200-pound beauty wins hands down (not implying that i've seen 21-inch blah blah of course). And. I shall go procure the soundtrack..if and when it's out..and learn to sing in korean (although marie doesn't seem to think much of my musical inclinations - I happen to think the 'circle circle dot dot...I've had my cootie shot' song is a masterpiece).

The end of another dramatic NSL weekend. And that was just off court. There were coaches (malaysian) jumping up and down benches screaming at the umpires, threats to Pearline that if she ever dared to NOT play center again, she'd be shot, and groans so loud that the stadium shook when huichieh missed a shot (by our supporters no less). All finally culminating in the parents deciding that they were gonna print a hundred shirts in the team colours for all supporters to adorn. Now we just have to figure out if it's gonna be blue or yellow. I pity the dumb-ass who allocated blue to us and yellow to marlins. Geez. It's not that hard love. (I suspect it was Ling..knowing her penchant for all that is luminous). And about Ling. I have no idea how she had so much spare time while playing to scan us and proclaim that we cheered for J9 but not her. tsktsktsk. I need to have a chat with tony about her priorities.

And to those *ahem* 'friends' (currently demoted to just 'teammates') who claim that the inability to open my eyes after i wake up is due to reasons OTHER than long lashes...a plague on all your houses.

On a side note..I seriously pity Chin. He's probably gonna bat for the other team now that he's been exposed to the worst possible excuses for females that he could ever encounter.

2007-04-22T22:12:00.000+10:00

I cannot leave here, I cannot stay,
Forever haunted, more than afraid.
Asphyxiate on words I would say,
I'm drawn to a blackened sky as I turn blue.

There are no flowers, no not this time,
There'll be no angels gracing the lines,
Just these stark words, I find.
I'd show a smile, but i'm too weak,
I'd share with you could I only speak,
Just how much this, hurts me.

I cannot stay here, I cannot leave,
Just like all I loved, I make believe.
Imagine heart, I disappear, seems,
No one will appear, here and make me real.

I'd tell you how it haunts me,
I'd tell you how it haunts me,
(cuts through my day, and sinks into my dreams.)
I'd tell you how it haunts me,
(cuts through my day, and sinks into my dreams.)
You don't care that it haunts me.

There are no flowers, no not this time,
There'll be no angels gracing the lines,
Just these stark words, I find.
I'd show a smile, but i'm too weak,
I'd share with you could I only speak,
Just how much this, hurts me.

Just how much this, hurts me.

Just how much you...

WHERE THE HELL'S MY HAPPY POST??!!

2007-04-17T00:35:00.000+10:00

Just because I'm in bed..

2007-04-14T12:26:00.000+10:00

It's been a long week...a very long week. My body's on strike. Let's see if I can continue to suppress the uprising. Will the Reds or Whites triumph? I've always been a Monarchist at heart. Yeah. That heart. The heart that's now leading the rebellion. I've never liked that organ. Useless muscle.

It's supposed to be be dependable..to just do its job. It's not that hard. LV-AV-aorta-systemic circ.-SVC/IVC/coronary sinus-RA-TV-RV-PV-pulmonary trunk-pulmonary circ.-pulmonary v-LA-MV-LV. Simple. It's merely a pump which contracts and relaxes. Doesn't have to do much at all.

It's even pre-programmed so it doesn't have to think. Cardiac plexus-SA-AV-AV bundle-Purkinje fibres-R sependocardial branches-papillary muscles RV/LV. So really...how hard can it be? Granted, I try to make its life exciting by my er..questionable habits..but still. Is it too much to ask that it (and its cronies the lungs) function just enough to keep me alive?

Which brings me to the brain. Another useless specimen that could have such an easy life if ONLY it didn't spend all its time generating stupid thoughts. I mean..if it just remained a control center for physiological functions...we'd all be pretty happy (or maybe just alive), but no. It has to act all smart and "Oh look at me..I'm a human brain..I can keep this giant machine going and still have enough time to think obscure thoughts and be complex".

Heh..that reminds me of the mnemonic for the 12 cranial ns.

Oh Oh Oh To Touch And Feel Various Girls' Vaginas and Hymens.

Sigh. They taught us that..I didn't make it up myself.

Olfactory Optic Occulomotor Trochlear Trigeminal Abducens Facial Vestibulocochlear Glossopharyngeal Vagus Hypoglossal.

See? It helps. I still remember.

And then for sensory/motor/mixed innervation, there's

Some Say Marry Money, But My Brother Says Big Bras Matter Most.

=] Ah undergrad. It was amusing.

2007-04-14T12:21:00.000+10:00

DEAR PEARLINE...

2007-04-09T00:13:00.000+10:00

Stop reading and drinking coffee and lounging about and GET TO WORK. I'm going to write to NS (anonymously of course) and advise them to review your pay and working hours. To think you have the audacity to sit there and READ BLOGS till 10, go for LUNCH at 1 (till 3), go for PHYSIO at 4 (till half 5), TRAIN with LING at 6, then go for TRAINING at half 7 (I might be making all this up...but that's what I do). I think I'll CC the anonymous letter to Forum using Marie's IC.

Love,

Ting.

P.S. Remember to check the capping out and see if we can put the NATIONAL into national league.

It's not 3 days...

2007-04-06T02:53:00.000+10:00

It's a lifetime.

It's been a lifetime.

And in all probability...

It's gonna be a lifetime.

Sigh.

Misery. I didn't mean to. I never mean to. But it's hard...you know? This is hard. It's something I don't know how to deal with. That hasn't had to have been dealt with before.

Obsession.

That's a word.

Hence the anger. At something I just can't explain. And that can never go away. And so I blame you. The knight in shining whatever. I have to blame someone but... Just to make some sense out of it. There is a land. A land called passive-aggressiva.

And what happens now? It's the same as it was way back when. When the herpes clock was going tick tick tick. That unforgiving bastard. I never liked it.

Except when I was in front of it.

Unfair?

Yes.

Totally.

When the worst case scenario comes true, clinging to hope is all we've got left.

God?

God got a virgin pregnant by magic. God isn't playing by the rules.

The thing about plans is they don't take into account the unexpected, so when we're thrown a curve ball (or a too-high ball), we have to improvise. Of course, some of us are better at it than others. Some of us just have to move on to plan B, and make the best of it. And sometimes what we want is exactly what we need.

But sometimes...

Sometimes what we need is a new plan.

I could whinge about work and netball and stuff...but it's all so mundane. Going through the motions right? Zombie-like.

Apparently I've developed quite a taste for this zombie thing. It's actually quite appealing. Imagine being able to feel nothing. I'd give anything..

"You need to bond with your people. People are what matters. Paint with all the colours of the wind!"

"I hate people"

What's worse; new wounds which are so horribly painful or old wounds that should've healed years ago and never did? Maybe our old wounds teach us something. They remind us where we've been and what we've overcome. They teach us lessons about what to avoid in the future. That's what we'd like to think. But that's not the way it is, is it? Some things we just have to learn over and over and over again.

People have scars. In all sorts of unexpected places. Like secret roadmaps of their personal histories. Diagrams of all their old wounds.

Most of our wounds heal, leaving nothing behind but a scar.

But some of them don't. Some wounds we carry with us everywhere, and though the cut's long gone, the pain still lingers.

2007-03-31T00:30:00.000+10:00

The snow

The strong one.
That perfect entity.
That has all the answers.
That makes it better.
That chases bad things away.
That brings unsurpassed happiness.

I hate the goddamned snow

For making me weak.
For my inadequacies.
For my ignorance.
For the hurt.
For the nightmares.
For the utter torment.

For being needed.

You do. I know you do.

2007-03-31T00:18:00.000+10:00

You say you know me.
But I don't think you do.
But you like to think you do.
Don't you?

Work...

2007-03-30T23:46:00.000+10:00

Fell asleep during the lab meeting. And it was during the boss' presentation. Lovely. Well I tried. But.
Only the Toh-vs-Alderuccio efforts have persistently succeeded in keeping my brain engaged thus far. In fact...they could probably wake the dead with their catfights.

Anyway...back in a lab now. The life of a lab rat yet again. Doing upteen PCRs and looking at bastard cells and dreaming of the day I finally cave and eat the agarose gel. I went down for a 'break' today while my gel was running.
And when I went back up...the guys asked if it was mine, and go "Hor Hor! Thegirlwhosebenchisoppositeyour'sisangrybecauseyou'reusinghermachine". Well. The girl can like, kiss my ass; there are like 5 machines on like that very same bench, so it's not like I was like hogging anything. Like.

But.
Being the chicken that I am, I crept into the PCR room in a vague 007 attempt at stealthily removing my gel so that said chick wouldn't know it was mine.
But.
She was in there loading another machine.
So.
Being that chicken that I am...I apologized. Told her I didn't know she was gonna use the machine (although her name was written all over the lid and she'd loaded it with fresh TAE - I'd simply assumed God had filled it for me). And I was nice and jokey and friendly and all interested in her life, so she finally proclaimed that it was ok that I'd used her machine, and it's only because it was me, and if it were anyone else she'd have thrown a hissy fit.
Well.
Crisis averted. (Let's just say that you do NOT want to get between a scientist and his/her tools - you should have seen the investigative drama we had in my old lab over curvy forceps and fugene6).

And for good measure, after I took the photo I went back and waved it in her face and told her that I finally got the right results and it must be because of the magic potion she'd prepared and poured into the machine and gracefully permitted me to use.
Sigh.
I'm such a slut.

Bloody limewire...

2007-03-30T23:26:00.000+10:00

I love how searching for 'Veronica Mars' returns 'veronica zemanova striptease' and 'House MD' returns 'cute teen rides older house guy'. Don't even get me started on what 'Desperate Housewives' returns.

Oh, and for the Smallville fans, just some info.: Smallville 618 is NOT titled Mrs. Sanders. It's actually 'Promise'.

Mrs. Sanders is...let's just say...a teacher.

Proficient and rehearsed and (un)dressed for just one subject.

Sigh. I miss the simple days. I really do. When a housewife was only ever just a housewife.

By the power of Greyskull..

2007-03-30T23:25:00.001+10:00

Life is a crapfest.

I miss...

2007-03-30T01:55:00.000+10:00

I miss the tree that grew into itself...
I miss the walks to Clayton...
I miss the claypot dinners...
I miss the "what time are you coming home tonight" message tone...
I miss the throwing and (sometimes) catching, but (most of the time) picking...
I miss the bobby pins...
I miss the trackpants...
I miss the whinging...
I miss whinging about the whinging...
I miss the (our) car...
I miss leaving my imprint on said (our) car...
I miss staking claim to the front seat of said (our) car...
I miss getting Showbag and deleting Showbag and getting Showbag again...
I miss being caught singing Showbag...
I miss zipping up the open bag...
I miss listening to the crunch of pear-eating...
I miss the stool...
I miss the many attempts at truancy...
I miss laughing at the mess caused by the challenging feat that is eating...
I miss the ice-cream, anywhere, anytime...
I miss the attempts at picking up my rubbish...
I miss the slow-walking...
I miss the breaks...
I miss the many breaks...
I miss the rationalization of the need for even more breaks...
I miss sitting on the curb...
I miss sitting on the curb and looking at vehicles going by...
I miss sitting on the curb and looking at vehicles going by and contemplating their killing potential...
I miss the useless information on how chocolate is made and which wine is best and why a glass should cost $18...
I miss playing with the hair...
I miss the beach...
I miss the parks...
I miss 3am (and 4am and 5am and...)...
I miss the falling and stumbling and colloquial utterances...
I miss the boisterous laughter...
I miss the loaded silence...
I miss the wordless understanding...
I miss the familiar smell...
I miss slowly chipping away and being let in...
I miss sharing in every moment...
I miss being utterly demoralized yet incredibly happy...
I miss being trapped yet being free...
I miss the feeling of time ripping something away from me...
I miss being laughed at and not minding one bit...
I miss the confusion...
I miss the denial...
I miss the certainty of it and the uncertainty of ever finding it again...
I miss the comfort...
I miss the closeness...

I miss my snow.

Nobody knows the troubles I've seen...

2007-03-29T01:32:00.001+10:00

Nobody knows my sorrow.

2007-03-25T23:25:00.000+10:00

Reading through old posts...just randomly scrolling...and it lands on dumbass. Ahh dumbass. Bane of humanity.

fragmented

2007-03-25T23:13:00.000+10:00

The new prayers go ‘in nomine bb et bb et bbb bb. bb.’ or for the lazy…simply ‘bbbbbbbbbb’ – is that 10?

I am bored. Everything’s boring. Life is boring. I don’t like people. I don’t like ‘that place – ding dong the witch isn’t dead’ (as the sister puts it). Existence is tedious. What to do?? Occam’s razor. Or maybe just razor. I think I need to revert to public transport. I get too angry when driving. I think I’m a road hazard. I know so. Maybe there’s some sort of underlying desire to that.

I like the Shangri La.

Hollandaise makes me happy.

My family amuses me. I'm lucky.
I miss the sister. She’s not part of the ‘I don’t like people’ fiasco.

Implying?

2007-03-18T23:00:00.000+11:00

As happens sometimes a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment. And then the moment was gone.

Does this darkness have a name?
This cruelty, this hatred, how did it find us? Did it steal into our lives or did we seek it out and embrace it? When did we lose our way?

Does this darkness have a name?

Is it your name?

Time takes it all, whether you want it to or not. Time takes it all, time bears it away, and in the end... there is only darkness. Sometimes we find others in that darkness, and sometimes we lose them there again. And losing your way on a journey is unfortunate, but losing your reason for the journey is a fate more cruel.

Sometimes I traveled alone. Sometimes there were others who took the wheel.

But when the destination was reached, it wasn’t me who’d arrived…

It wasn’t me at all.

And once you lose yourself, you have two choices; find the person you used to be…. Or lose that person completely. Because sometimes you have to step outside the person you have been, and remember the person you were meant to be.

The person you wanted to be.

The person you are.

We all live in a house of fire. No fire department to call. No way out. Just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down... with us trapped, locked in it.

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole.

I thank whatever Gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In a fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance,

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears,

looms but the horror of the shade

And yet the menace of the years

finds, and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate;

I am the captain of my soul.

right.

2007-03-11T23:24:00.001+11:00

nothing's comforting anymore.

2007-03-11T17:04:00.000+11:00

Sometimes it feels like life is just a job. Something you have to do, you’re obliged to execute, you’re compelled to accomplish. Where things are decided for you. Where everything you do is impacted by or has an impact on someone else.
Where you’re trapped.

And that job… It used to excite you.
Used to make you happy.
You used to look forward to getting up every morning, anticipating all that you had to do, with a smile firmly planted on your face. Even through trying moments or wearisome interactions, there was always something that kept you going.
Kept you sane.
Kept you alive.

But when that’s all gone…what was it? To the toilet… Where does that leave you? Where’s the impetus to carry on?

Life is a job…

With one whopper of a difference.
You can’t quit.

2007-03-10T02:25:00.000+11:00

I could just write about work and how many cells are disappearing this time, or training and how many lunges we're doing, but that would be a waste of space wouldn't it.

2007-03-10T01:42:00.000+11:00

Let’s talk about arrogance. Real downright in-your-face superciliousness. A pomposity hitherto never encountered. And that’s saying a lot seeing as who I am.
And yes.
No one is truly who they portray themselves to be. It’s human nature.
Deception.
Deceit.

You think you know someone…but in all actuality there’s no way you can (unless you’re a legilimens). I admit to disillusionment. I admit to being dense. I should have known better…being the cynic that I presumed myself to be.
That’s the lesson here.

Never let your guard down.
Never think you’re worth anything.
Most of all, never, ever let yourself think that someone else thinks you’re worth anything either.
Because it’s all a load of crap.

It’s just words.
Words were created for the prime purpose of deluding others with intricate and convoluted prose.
Sticks and stones luv.
Sticks and stones.

So the conclusion of it all? Don’t waste your time with others. Don’t fall for the trap, or the crap. Everyone’s just in it for themselves, to further themselves, no matter whom or what they step on, so why not be that way too? God has no purpose for you. When you die, you’re dead. And everything you were dies with you.

Because that’s the way it is.

Someone may remember you from time to time, but they die too, and they’re forgotten in turn. The only reason we’re here, is to merely be a cog in the process of evolution.

Natural selection.

Nothing more.

We’re simply an intermediate before some sort of ultimate complexity is attained, a billion years from now. And looking at what millions of years of evolution have altered us into…it’s not looking promising. It’s not looking promising at all. If God is in fact that ultimate complexity, and we are slowly but surely waning into a race far unrecognizable from the term ‘humanity’, then I’m not sure this whole thing was such a good idea after all.

For the snow, in all its grandeur and its majesty, is in all veracity too grand and too majestic to be impressed by anything…let alone a humble bird.

Those mutton people on 98.7

2007-03-03T12:07:00.000+11:00

Well I was listening to the radio, and the mutton people were on. Dan and Yang? Or something to that effect. So they were telling us the daily joke, which went...

A lady woke up from a coma, and was informed by her doctor that in the 1 year she was out she gave birth to twins; a boy and a girl. The doctor told her not to worry and that both children were healthy, and that her brother had named them, got them baptized, and was taking care of them.

The woman goes "What!! My brother's slow and stupid! How could you let him take the children? Oh no, what did he name them??"

Doctor: "Well, he named the girl Denise"

Woman: "Oh. That's not too bad actually. I'm impressed. What did he name my son?"

Doctor: "Denephew."

I couldn't stop laughing...which is not a good sign.

Ode to the sister..

2007-02-21T00:42:00.000+11:00

The sis has gone back to Melbourne the lucky child. I miss having our intellectual conversations. Hmm. Been living with her for the past 2 years, and it's been really fun. Watching certain shows together, going out when there's the smallest amount of time available. Going to Melbourne Central and ahem 'guiding' her home. Oh, and we almost cut a CD; featuring songs such as yaya yaya devi, kill me kill me kill me and covers of satisfaction and sexyback. Our duets could change the world. Not to mention her cooking!

Oh..I miss having her cook for me! heh slave driver that I am. Some days when I was in the lab late (ok make that all days), she'd MSN and the conversation'd go "So what's for dinner?" "Dunno you decide, I'll be home late." "How? I'll cook la!" "Ok, you decide what to cook." "Maggi mee, macaroni goreng, spaghetti?" "Ooh macaroni!" "haha okok".

Or when I'd miraculously be able to come home at around 11, I'd call from the train home and say "so what you want to eat? Bk, subway, nandos or jap food?" "Oh!! Jap food!! The chicken curry don!" "Ok. And gyoza?" "You know! You just want me to die!" "No la we can share!" So I take the train, then the tram up Swanston, and call her back. "Ok, jap place is closed, what you want from bk?" "Aiya, the usual la." Heh. That happened so many times it wasn't funny anymore. Our grand plans of eating jap food only got realized on weekends, when we'd buy it for dinner on sundays so we could watch idol.

Sigh.

Stupid Melbourne. Or rather...stupid Singapore.

One such intellectual conversation transpired the day she was going to leave...

Sis: If I was dead, and i wrote in my will that my only wish is for you to stop (), would you or not?

Me: I'm going to die at 40, and that's way before you. Ergo all your deathbed wishes won't matter to me.

Sis: Oh how can you die at 40? Fine, I'll die when I'm 39 so it's before you!

Me: ...

Me: Er... You're 6 years younger than me, so if you die at 39, I'd have been dead for 5 years.

Sis: Oh ya ah!!! So stupid!

Sis: Ok fine, then I'll die when I'm 33!

Me: Er... ok?

Sis: Ya. I'll die at 33, and if you die at 40, you'll have to endure 7 years without me!

Me: ...

Me: Er... If you die at 33, I'll be 39, so I'd only have to endure 1 year. Thank god you're not doing maths at uni.

...

2007-02-12T02:14:00.001+11:00

You ever wonder how long it takes to change your life? What measure of time is long enough to be life altering? Can your life change in a month… a week… or a single day? We’re always in a hurry… to grow up. To go places. To get ahead.
But when you’re young… one hour can change everything.

The future is filled with promise. The present, rife with expectation.
But when we deny that instinct, and struggle against our deepest urges, uncertainty begins. Where does this path lead? When will the changes end? Is this transformation a gift or a curse.
And for those who fear what lies ahead…the most important question of all.
Can we really ever change who we are?

In the beginning, there was discovery. And confusion of elements. The first snowfall of impossible change.
Old lives undone…left behind.
Strange faces made familiar.
New nightmares to challenge sleep.
New people to feel safe with.
Only then comes control.
The need to impose order onto chaos.
Through determination, through study, through struggle.

But when you think the chaos is gone…is finally conquered...
You find it again within you.
Where is always has been.

Stronger than ever before.

Hi dad...

2007-02-10T00:23:00.000+11:00

If you're reading this..I love you!

21st of July. Harry Potter.

2007-02-03T22:19:00.000+11:00

...

2007-01-31T14:24:00.000+11:00

We are if anything creatures of habit.
Drawn to the safety and comfort of the familiar.
But what happens when the familiar becomes unsafe?
When the fear that we have desperately been trying to avoid finds us?
We are all at our cores the sum of our fears.
To embrace destiny, we must, inevitably, face those fears.
And conquer them.
Whether they come from the familiar,
Or the unknown.

To every thing there is a season,
And a time to every purpose.
The earth spins at over a thousand miles an hour as we desperately try to keep from being thrown off.
Like the first blush of winter that signals the great migration.
Is there any warning of their arrival?
A sign?
A single event that sets this chain into motion?
Was it a whisper in God’s ear?
Survive, Attack, Escape.

And if we could mark that single moment in time,
That first hint of a prophecy of approaching danger,
Would we have done anything differently?
Could it have been stopped?

Or was the dye long ago cast?
Or if we could go back, alter its course, stop it from happening,
Would we?
These people; their future is written on their DNA,
Just as the past, it seems, is written in stone.

Was the dye cast from the very beginning?
Or is it in our own hands to alter the course of destiny?

Of all our abilities, it is free will that truly makes us unique.
With it, we have a small but potent chance to deny fate.

And only with it can we find our way back to being human.

2007-01-01T19:54:00.000+11:00

The earth is large. Large enough that you think you can hide from anything.
From fate.
From God.
If only you found a place far enough away.

So you run.
To the edge of the earth. Where all is safe again.
Quiet… and warm.
The solace of salt air.
The peace of danger left behind.
The luxury of grief.
And maybe for a moment, you believe you have escaped.

You can run far. You can take your small precautions.
But have you really gotten away?
Can you ever escape?

Or is the truth that you do not have the strength or cunning to hide from destiny.

But the world is not small.
You are.

And fate can find you anywhere.

Here's the proof.

2006-12-11T23:58:00.000+11:00

Exhibit A: The alleged Contact.

Green arrows depict all areas where the DEVIL GA contacted the (protected) individual.

Red markings depict true identity of the DEVIL GA.

(Image pixellated to protect individual's identity - NOT LING'S)

Ok...WHERE'S THE CONTACT YOU BLOODY UMPIRE???!!!!

2006-12-11T23:52:00.000+11:00

(Image pixellated to protect person's identity - NOT LING'S)

And they say...

2006-12-11T23:36:00.000+11:00

Hell yeah. We did it! Woot.

And what's a post without a picture of Jean and I?

(Thanks to Darren the photo-genius/birthday boy)

A stool....

2006-11-30T19:42:00.000+11:00

Is never just a stool.

The first day of ditching.
The first day out.
The first day away.
That first day... hung in the balance... of that stool.
That first day... realizing that it wasn't just location.

Precariously balanced.
With the knowledge that no matter how shaky...
How unstable...
We would never allow the other to stumble..
To fall.

That stool... will never be just a stool.

...

2006-11-29T17:15:00.000+11:00

The earth is large. Large enough to make you think that you could hide away from anything. From fate. From God. Finally you’ve found a place far enough away…so you run. You can run far. You can take your small precautions. But have you really gotten away? Can you ever escape? Or is the truth that you do not have the strength or cunning to hide from destiny. That the world is not small. You are. And fate can find you anywhere.

Regret comes in all shapes and sizes. Some are small, like when we do a bad thing for a good reason. Some are bigger, like when we let down someone we love. Some of us escape the pain of regret by making the right choice. Some of us have little time for regret, because we’re looking forward to the future. Sometimes we have to fight, to come to terms with the past. And sometimes we bury our regret, by promising to change our ways. But our biggest regrets are not for the things we did, but for the things we didn’t do. Things we didn’t say. Things we could easily have done.

The world is not small. You are. And you find that solace comes from things even smaller. Things like a stool, in the middle of nowhere. Things like a leaking ‘roof’ in the middle of a children’s playground. Things that mean nothing but signify so much.

2006-11-15T00:03:00.000+11:00

2006-11-12T15:26:00.000+11:00

Life comes at us from out of the darkness. And at times we struggle to find the courage to face it.

When life comes rushing at you from out of the darkness, who will you choose to face it with? Will it be someone you trust? Will they be wise? And will their love for you help them to guide you to the light? Or will they lose their way in the darkness? Will they make noble choices? Or will that person be someone untested? Someone new?

Life comes rushing at you from out of the darkness. When it does, is there someone in your life that you can count on? Someone who will watch over you when you stumble and fall. And in that moment, give you the strength to face your fears, alone.

A wise doctor once asked.. "Did you love her?"

2006-11-06T09:39:00.000+11:00

Don't mistake coincidence for fate.

No.

Don't mistake fate for coincidence.

You do not choose your destiny; it chooses you. And those who knew you before fate took you by the hand cannot understand the depth of the changes inside; they cannot fathom how much you stand to lose in failure.

Relationships have nothing to do with good judgement. It doesn't matter how smart you are... you still get hurt.

The snow got pissed off...

2006-11-03T20:06:00.000+11:00

So, the snow is dismayed at its apparent portrayal as a selfish and unfeeling entity, when in all actuality, that's not what was meant at all. I merely suggested that the snow (being so vast and grand and all), wouldn't (and couldn't) be disturbed by every little thing (even a bird) that deigned to come its way. However, it has been shown to (and physically drummed into) me, that the snow will never forget the feel of talons, even as seasons come and go, no matter where the bird is and how much new snow has fallen. The snow will, as stated in the original piece, always remember. Hence, this notion that the snow is an unfeeling and selfish (and fat <--vast doesn't mean fat) creature should, in fact, be abrogated, ameliorated and most definitely, ablated. Hopefully henceforth the snow won't take it upon its magnificent self to strike the bird with pillows (as the snow does) just to ensure the point comes across.

The bird and the snow....

2006-11-02T10:31:00.000+11:00

Evolution is an imperfect and often violent process. A battle between what exists and what is yet to be born.
In the midst of these birth pains, morality loses its meaning.
The question of good and evil reduced to one simple choice;
Survive or perish.

The concept of the bird and the snow is very apt; but let’s analyze the snow for an instant.
The vast blanket of snow is outwardly calm; superficially undisturbed; ostensibly protected by its sheer area. Seemingly. For that blanket of snow is in chaos beneath; waiting for the instant…that instant…
When the seasons change and it melts and flows without restraint;
When it gets to surge majestically, with the knowledge that its power cows everything in its path;
When it is free.

And it finds that the bird didn’t in fact leave any imprint at all. It was just superficial; a surface wound that was restored within seconds of impact.
For the snow, in all its grandeur and its majesty, is in all veracity too grand and too majestic to be impressed by anything…let alone a humble bird.

But the bird…the bird which grasped at the snow and managed to pilfer a few flakes...that bird will forever live in ignorance. That bird will believe with all its heart that it perhaps succeeded in disturbing something so grand and so uniform; that something so small could conceivably agitate something so vast; that maybe it got away with a small keepsake of the snows soul.

That bird will fly away in all its self-proclaimed glory, convinced that the snow will forever remember the feeling...that feeling... .

And that bird will never realize how ignorant it really is.

For the snow, in all its grandeur and its majesty, is in all veracity too grand and too majestic to be impressed by anything…let alone a humble bird.

2006-10-29T23:20:00.000+11:00

I want to watch Beauty World.

Oh and Army Daze (or is it Dayz? or maybe just Days?). Now THAT was a good movie. The ONLY good movie to come out of the country (except maybe I Not Stupid, and I Not Stupid 2 - according to the sister).

On a (very) different note, only 3 weeks before going home. Home. Where the heart (and lungs) is. Oh I shudder at the thought of training again. I haven't seen the inside of a gym in months. I haven't RUN in months. I haven't touched a (net)ball in months. The weights I carry now entail grocery bags (full of chips and 1kg nutella bottle(s)) from Safeway. This is not looking good. Although. I'll probably have time off and be watching from outside the stadium (since Pox claims she'll be on the stands). Oh well. I don't mind. I'll supply the bubble tea.

On an even more different/off-key note, the hair aunty at Far East is going to be one happy camper when I get back. I foresee giving her lots of business in dealing with the (er) crap that claims to be hair. Ahh rebonding. No no... the right term's soft straightening isn't it?

And.... We've lost an hour to stupid daylight savings. A whole hour lost. Tsk Tsk Tsk. No no that's the wrong phrasing. It should be 'Tick Tick Tick'. Incidentally, the family thinks I'm clinically depressed. They're calling one by one every 2 hours to make sure I'm alive. Uh huh. Oh the power of guilt. Lovely. It amuses me. If I wasn't so DEPRESSED (???), I'd laugh.

I've lately taken to staring at Limewire. As though glaring at it and shooting it looks that could kill (since I am death personified anyway) would force it to download faster. I don't know. I've been restless. I just sit about, and then I get titchy, and then I walk, and then I sit down again, and then I walk. It's a vicious, crazy, self-tormenting cycle. BUT. It amuses me (if that's the right word at all...I suspect it isn't). Oh well.

Cheer up luv.

Woot.

Huzzah.

Uh huh.

2006-10-28T11:50:00.000+10:00

I like the beach.

It's always calm. It's always quiet. It's always peaceful.

It's deceptively calm.

It's deceptively quiet.

It's deceptively peaceful.

It's got this understated power just beneath the surface, which once you get sucked into, you can never get out of. I can stare at that calm for ages, getting hypnotized by its serenity, knowing that one wrong move would be it.

And you just sit there, knowing that it could be so easy to fall in...but it would be too hard.

The Borsalino hat test.

2006-10-28T11:40:00.000+10:00

The Borsalino...a wide brimmed hat made from the furs of the lapin.

A work of art.

The test of a real Borsalino hat is to roll it into a cylinder..roll it up into a very tight tube..and pass it through a wedding ring. If it emerges from this test without permanent creases..and it springs back to its original shape..and if it is not damaged in the experience..it is a genuine Borsalino.

I'm not a genuine Borsalino.

2006-10-26T00:58:00.000+10:00

Today was a day for walking.
Walking at such a slow pace that you felt that you weren't going anywhere.
Walking at such a slow pace that the world stopped to stare.
Walking at such a slow pace that you could almost feel happy again. Almost.

Which leads us to the train tracks.

It's a dangerous thing.

Having train tracks so close which are not barrier-ed by any fencing.
It's a dangerous thing.

Having train tracks so accessible that you can touch the moving trains.

It's a dangerous thing.

Which leads us to the lab.

Land of sorrow yet land of solace.

Where you can find yourself yet lose yourself at the same instant.

Where you sink into this unending pit, that's so horrendous it's poetic.

Where the misery loves company and the company loves misery.

Saturday.

2006-10-23T23:31:00.000+10:00

We were walking out of the apartment block (the sis and I), when these police dudes accosted us and told us to walk as close to the buildings as possible and not to approach the edge of the pavement. The whole street was cordoned off; trams, cars, and people were all banned from the roads. Only policemen (and an ambulance) could be seen. So we walked. And went to the aunty's shop to ask if she knew what was going on. She (very excitedly) told us that there was a boy threatening to jump from our apartment block, and that he'd been there since the night before. Apparenty he'd been throwing stuff down all night and had injured a few people. So being the kpos that we are, we crossed the street to catch the drama.

We saw the boy.

He was on his balcony (on the 4th floor; one unit down from where we used to live), and he was just standing there, leaning on the rails, holding his head in his hands.
The police were in the middle of the street looking up at him..and it was silent. It was all so silent.. so unlike all the crap we see on tv. No bullhorns. No giant blow-up mattress thing. No press. Nothing. It was silent. Except for a policeman every 5m and an ambulance parked a safe distance away. It was silent. Just like any other day.

That boy. We could see him. Not his face... But enough. He was just standing there on the balcony...looking down. As we've all done countless times.

And I never thought he'd jump.

He'd been there all night; if he was going to... he would've already. The window of opportunity was gone; he was obviously just enjoying the attention.

And so we watched. Congratulating ourselves on the drama we got to witness.

For five minutes we just watched as he stood there.

And then he walked back into the room. Out of view. Just walked back in like how we always did when were done perusing the world from that balcony. Like how I've done countless times.

For five minutes we just watched the empty balcony.

We watched, just to see if anything else exciting happened.

Maybe the police would storm in and arrest him.

Maybe he'd come back out again and glare at the cops on the street.

We were laughing.... and contemplating how long we'd wait before finally getting a move on to watch our movie.

I called Jun, to tell her what she was missing out on.

A cordoned off street.

A crazy dude throwing stuff down.

People watching and trying to fathom what all the fuss was about.

I called Jun, to tell her what she was missing out on.

And then she picked up.

....

And then she picked up.

And I heard it.

I heard this "oh my god" from my sister.

I looked up and saw it.
I saw that body flying through the air.

I saw that body hit the overhang on the first floor.

I saw that body flip from the impact.

I saw that body smash onto the road below.

I saw that body lying supine, and police running toward it.

And worst of all, I saw that body move.

He did it. He ran out of the apartment and jumped off.

Just like that.

He did it.

And he was still alive.

Is that worse? To go through all that contemplation, and summoning all the will you can muster, and focusing on that one thought...that thought that makes you want to end it all... long enough for you to actually do it. To go through all that...and not dying. Not dying, and just compounding pain with pain. Is that worse? Infinitely.

And still we watched.

As the ambulance went rushing in.

As the paramedics lifted him onto the stretcher and into the vehicle.

And still we watched.

And it was horrifying.

I never, ever want to see anything like that again.

Ever.

We were just there to catch some action. To have something interesting to recount. We never thought he'd jump. Never.

You think about it all the time.

I've said it enough through this year... About how it'd be so nice to just... Die.

And you always think that you mean it..that you really do want to just...end it all.

And when I saw that boy...

I just felt sad for him.
I felt so sad.
What can be so bad that you want to kill yourself?

I just felt sad for him.

I felt so sad for him.

That he didn't die.

2006-10-23T23:11:00.000+10:00

How shall I put it? This... Feeling.
How shall I put it?
Lost?
Indifferent?
Or just...

Resigned.

How shall I put it?

A very interesting conversation..

2006-10-22T13:40:00.000+10:00

B: Burn me at the stake but, I like boys..and I like sex.
S: So did I but...
B: So did I??? Wait a minute. You have a virginity club and you're not even a virgin?
S: I am now. I'm a born again virgin.
B: A what?
S: Just because you make a mistake doesn't mean you can't start over. I made a pledge...I recommitted.
B: I hate to break it to you, but you're either a virgin, or you're not. And a pledge, does not a broken hymen mend.

and so yet again...

2006-10-21T01:54:00.000+10:00

Handed up the 'it' yesterday, but found myself at the lab today. We had a farewell lunch for mark at 1 (where I discovered that the bloody lab heads were more freaked out about the talk than me, so now I have to give 3 talks next week...i can feel the 'i want to die' sensations coming back)..
And then went back to the lab and talked to them about what slides i was gonna put up (uh huh what a thrill that was; i managed to discover another mistake in 'it'..a line in a table where it shouldn't have been. Bastard thesis)...
And then cleaned out my desk (between jun and I, we had a fair amount of crap; I think we killed at least 48 trees this year)...
And then... we just existed.
In the lab.
Doing nothing (well maybe not nothing...i vaguely remember cards of some sort).

SO it turns out...that as much as I hated the lab...
Maybe I don't.
(so much)

so...

2006-10-20T09:56:00.000+10:00

after all the whinging, and all the drama, and all the sleepless nights, and all the lab work,

It's finally over.

Well the thesis part at least (we still have a presentation next week).

It's bound and shipped out (with so many mistakes it's not funny) and there's nothing I can do about it anymore.

I went to hand it in with a couple of guys from BMS as well...you would think that once it was out of our hands we'd be jumping for joy and laughing and high-fiving or something.

But.

Once it was out of our hands...

It was the biggest anti-climax of my life.

We just went "oh well", and sort of just....slumped. And then we started wandering around aimlessly, wondering what we were supposed to do in that big hospital, when we actually had nothing TO do anymore.

"Do we go to the labs? Do we go back to the office and sit at our desks? Er...why isn't this making me happy? Am I going slowly insane?"

So, I just went back to the office. And sat in front of the laptop. And opened the thesis and found a MISTAKE on the acknowledgements page (I manged to write 'THEIR' instead of 'YOUR'. Dumbass bastard thesis). And closed the thesis so I wouldn't find any more. And looked at Jun doing her thesis (she only has to hand in today). And sort of just sat there till 930pm (so I was in the lab for 36hrs straight), doing nothing.

Because now that it's all over...

I don't know what to do with myself.

I can't imagine starting training again. I feel so worn out that it's a chore to even walk about. I can't imagine going back to the life of the 'normal people', because it still seems like that unattainable fruit that you can never reach. And I can't imagine ever feeling happy anymore, because it's been so long since I was. Everyone LIED.

The biggest anti-climax of my life.

2006-10-15T02:05:00.000+10:00

There’s this fissure; a fault into which you gradually but irrefutably get dragged into. Like quicksand. And you try to convince yourself that it’s inevitable and you have absolutely no control over it. And that struggling would only make it worse. So you resign to the fact that it's fate.

But you know it’s not true.
You know that in actuality, you want to be submerged.
You want to disappear into that crevice and feel…
Nothing.

Because feeling nothing…
Would be the most satisfying thing you could ever feel.

What’s the point of it all? Why bother deluding ourselves by faithfully upholding the perception that we’re an integral (albeit minute) element in the grand scheme of things?
That every choice we make in the present is influenced by the past and will impact the future?
The truth of the matter is….
It doesn’t.

The world existed before you did.
The world is not a better (or worse) place because you’re in it.
The world will not suspend when you’re gone.

Feeling nothing…
Would be the most satisfying thing you could ever feel.

2006-10-13T09:42:00.000+10:00

Athena, the Greek Goddess of wisdom and intelligent warfare, is the protector of Athens. For RGS, she stands for wisdom, industry, energy and creativity - qualities that a RGS pupil aspires to have.

RGS has been admitting the top 3% of Singapore's female cohort. The cut-off PSLE score varies according to the overall performance of the particular cohort that year.

Uh huh.

The cut-off must have been REALLY low in 1995. Ha!

I miss athena. She's weird, but always there. Guarding the entrance (that noone used because they always got dropped off by mummy or daddy at the main gate, and always left by climbing over the bball court gate - until the BARRED the top off. I suppose *cough cough* 'young intelligent girls from RGS' weren't supposed to be climbing over gates).

(Yes I actually FOUND the RGS webpage. It's rather sad actually. Everything's too....geeky now. Gone are the days of "Belt. What belt??" and 'Mrs. Carmee Lim the belly dancing, Great Singapore Workout leading, flamboyant hat wearing Principal')

Bloody Jeanette. Look what you're making me do. I have a thesis to write!

Filiae Melioris Aevi

2006-10-13T09:18:00.000+10:00

Pictures from our RGS days...courtesy of Jeanette. Can you believe the retro hair we had? And how YOUNG we looked?

Top one's (an act-dao or die trying photo) of THE FLAMES...we did a *ahem* hip hop dance for the '98 RGS night, to the song 'Be My Lover'. Uh huh. Heh...That was...interesting. I still have the video of that night...

And I still watch it...

And I still smile everytime I do.

Second one's of the '98 team; National Champs that year woohoo! Geez how young does Mr. Bok look? Our converse days...with our bright red Rodman converse shoes. And days of taking the bus to MGS for Zones. And days of MAKING UP snide songs about MGS on said bus to Zones. And days of staying back everyday to play some sort of -ball game. And days of wishing it'd rain so that we could play in it. And days of sitting in the canteen and playing with cups. And days of training so hard it seemed impossible, but doing it anyway because we wanted to. And days of berms and benches and singing and dancing and far east chicken rice and dramas and comedies.

"All I needed was the love you gave

All I needed for another day

And all I ever knew...

Only you"

2006-10-12T12:38:00.000+10:00

Australian Idol 2006 - Final 8 - Dean Geyer

DEAN....DID A BACKFLIP on stage. Awesome. AWESOME BOY.