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Everybody's gonna have a good time
Don't mention no stress right here
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 Kristine
Holds the key to her future, is that the key to truth? wongmlk@hotmail.com Shall take ourselves to a level higher. Just because we can. We shall always be happy and do whatever we want so that we would leave this world with no regrets. This is our life to live and we should answer to no one else but ourselves. We owe our lives to no one. To speak about freedom, but not being sure if we can achieve that. But we try. I never mentioned how we should all take risks, but only calculated ones. Never do something that your conscience can't live by, you don't want to face sleepless nights. The pursuit of happiness might not be with anyone else. The pursuit of happiness can be attained by walking the road alone. There are reasons why you remain alone, but many don't understand why you choose to be alone - they can't see why you're perfectly lonely. Archives
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Saturday, April 14, 2007
Loooong Post 2 days ago, an OWL flew into class and got stuck. I guess it got blinded due to the bright day light! I didn’t check the breed out. It happened to be a rather small one. I took a picture, (sorry, my com’s Bluetooth failed me! Can’t send any pics through!) showed to Dad when I got home that day, Dad said that it was a full-grown but of the smaller breeds. I was in awe, really? But I guess the size really did differ too much! (?) or it didn’t? The barn owl could easily take half of my height! Gosh! Hahaha! With the help of Hero ZhenYan -.- We managed to free it. It was just pure adorable. It got momentarily stunned and stood motionless on the parapet outside class for kinda long before it took flight. That creature had the most wonderful big eyes, but filled w fear and shock. Not that sharp piercing look when they’re supposed to be hunting prey. Marvellous encounter! Can’t get a hold of why these creatures make me have a big fuss over them. Class had to be resumed so we didn’t see it take it’s magnificent flight, hope this guy’s doing well out there! I bet it’s hunting now! Hahaha :D The owl’s encounter made me think more, I guess unnecessary thoughts(!) Tsk tsk. Not sure if I should put ‘em down. No one would bother reading it anyway! Zzz I guess I’d pen them thoughts down some other places! Hmm. Maybe someday, I’d be flying off to some safari for some voluntary work lol. But that only applies if I have the money to carry that out. Not only money for myself, also for mommy and maybe Dad. Don’t think that I can escape my guilty conscience if I ever send my parents to the Old Folks Home in the future. Unless if it’s compulsory maybe due to some illnesses that needs special care. But still I would visit them so very often! :D I wouldn’t ever want them to lose their memories unless they’re trapped in pain, extremity. I wouldn’t want them to forget bout me. It would only seem as though they’re gone. I think I can’t face time. I don’t want to. Cos problems keep increasing when time ticks. Maybe I just think too much. But it’s not like I can divert my attention away from this obstacle. How long can I carry on?! It’s not like I’m happy everyday looking happy. Okay, all that crap that I just stated was godamned shit. Zzz cos my Emo Twin appeared. My twin was just being evil, makin’ me write stuffs which is not me hahah :D chills dude! I’m still and always will be me. Today is the BLACK FRIDAY! FRIDAY THE 13th!!! Lol, I’m wondering who actually is bothered by it. Well, I’m definitely not. If you think that I am cos I ponned Sports Day, Lol. Maybe cos I was afraid the huge distance I have to cover from home to lakeside meant that something would happen. Lol. Really. Anw, I accompanied mommy to the supermarket! (: Yay and I bought M&Ms new dark choc to give it a try (: It should be healthier right?! Lol I'm typing this on notepad, then transferring it over to blogger maybe a few days later. So this should be dated on 13/04/07. My internet's down. And life is really boring w/o it. Stayed home the whole day, zzz. And Budbud has gone to M'sia KL. No one to chat on the phone at night zzz. This is actually a blessing in disguise, also means that I have souvenirs (: But who knows how worthy the souvenirs are. I'm planning to blog a really long one, like wtf. My phone conks up and the com doesn’t detect the damned Bluetooth device (!) ARGH! Anw, I read this article in The Straits Times life! It's about how Chilean poet Pablo Neruda writes of how his boyhood sorrows shaped his soul. I kind of fell in love w it. I am not sure why, but I just did. That's that. Well, I’ve heard of this guy before but didn’t notice much about him. Here it says that he got the Nobel Prize for literary in 1971, but passed away in 1973 due to cancer! But I’m not sure how to go about commenting on it! And I guess I’m gon type this small part of it now :D Okay, here it goes : Now I am going to tell you a story about birds. In Lake Budi, swans were brutally hunted. Swans, like the albatross, take to the air clumsily; they have to make a run, skimming water. They lift their huge wings heavily, and so were easily caught, and finished off with sticks. Someone brought me a swan that was half dead. It was one of those magnificent birds I have not seen anywhere in the world, a black-necked swan. A snowy vessel with its slender neck looking as if squeezed into a black silk stocking, its beak an orange color and its eyes red. It was almost dead when they gave it to me. I bathed its wounds and stuffed bits of bread and fish down its throat. It threw up everything. But it recovered from its injuries gradually and began to realize that I was its friend. And I began to realize that homesickness was killing it. So I went down the streets to the river, with the heavy bird in my arms... I carried it to the river and back to my house everyday for more than 20 days. The swan was almost as tall as I. One afternoon it seemed dreamier; it swam near me but wasn't entertained by my ruses for trying to teach it how to fish again. It was very still and I picked it up in my arms to take it home. But when I held it up to my breast, I felt a ribbon unrolling, and something like a black arm brushed my face. It was the long, sinuous neck falling. That's how I found out that swans don't sing when they die. I have often been asked when I wrote my first poem, when poetry was born in me. I'll try to remember. Once, far back into my childhood, when I had barely learnt to read, I felt an intense emotion and set down a few words, half rhymed but strange to me, different from everyday language. Overcome by a deep anxiety, something I had not experienced before, a kind of anguish and sadness, I wrote them neatly on a piece of paper. It was a poem to my mother, that is, to the one I knew, the angelic stepmother whose gentle shadow watched over my childhood. I had no way of judging my first composition, which I took to my parents. They were in the dining room, immersed in one of those hushed conversations that, more than a river, separate the world of children and the world of grown-ups. Still trembling after this first visit from the muse, I held to them the paper with the lines of verse. My father took it absentmindedly, saying, “Where did you copy this from?” Then he went on talking to my mother in a lowered voice about his important and remote affairs. That, I seem to remember, was how my first poem was born, and that was how I had my first sample of irresponsible literary criticism. |
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This city's made us Crazy
And we must get out |
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