time: 1:30pm
music: only time - enya
mood: happy-ing.
My bathroom light makes funny noises.
I get the weirdest dreams. This morning, when specks of dust settled n' all was peaceful again (ie-everyone had left for work/ sch), I coasted back to the bank of my dreams, n' cashed out one of the most schnoodlest-est* dreams ever. SoOo.. I was a uniformed-policewoman w' a gun and running as fast as I could through dark, unlit corridors. scared shit n' chased by pretty ghosts with pink cheeks *disbelief-gasp*. I dont know where, or how they came about but suddenly, I had comrades: nicque, cherrie, ahmad, rifaie, elfy and I (combo?), together, we smashed a wicked witch's face with a girl's toilet cubicle door (her fake nose fell v.much like the mj-nose in eminem's clip), drove a golf wheely-cart through a jungle ...annndd then, with all our powers combined *in-that-captain-planet-voice*, we kicked some 6-yrs old red-eyed-girl demon butt in the Science blk of wdlss. 'It' was out to detonate woodlands sec (which comically look very much the insides of the sg-american school). AND AND and.. we had like.. super.. powers mannnn! coming out of our outstretched nimble fingers into colourful fireworks, like we were power rangers or something! If what I just said wasnt ludicrous enough, after all was said n' done, we went...... jalan raya-ing (!!!) afterwards. I remember looking down n' tsk-ing in ridicule when I realised I'd been running n' kicking butts in my new black shoes (the one responsible for my plastered feet now). Raya-ing led me to meet ahmad's mum. She was cooking in the kictchen and we spoke about what I am going to be now that I'm back in singapore for good. I woke up while we were talking about how to make sambal belacan.
I wonder how freud or jung would have interpreted this dream.
hrmppp..?
diyar called from tracom to throw a smile at me. how nice. =)
*
random: I have a secret box.
haha! hooo-kayyy..
*rolls eyes* So much for a secret! Inside contains all of my diamonds, crystals, jewels and gems from Ariel's home. Ok, ha-ha. Not! They are but my priced possessions. My memoirs. The yellow-brick road to memories of yester-years. Yesterday, I dug up a piece of white flattened candle wax from William, he gave to me at the npcc POP ceremony. I even dug out that desaru wristlet from the two-days "educational" excursion at e' resort (courtesy of wdlss npcc), a postcard from abang win from days when he just migrated, missed me as much as to write n' spelt 'writing' with two 't's, a very unphotogenic pic of me and the squad, AND several (love) letters from a few of my platonic guy friends now, which I JUST realise I can blackmail them with. *rub hands in glee* oohhh.. evil!
Well, I was with Avril Lavigne doing 'my happy ending' on the stereo; when I found my baby-diary. Reminiscing through the days. Good times, bad times .. oo give me some of that. I found myself laughing at almost everything I picked out of that box. Or at least smile :) I urge you guys to keep your very own secret box today (I have 4 secret boxes). 5 years dwn the rd, when you dig out that rusty "friendship" paperclip or a warranty cards to long-dead watches (u begged ur mum mths for), then only will you understand the gravity of my entry.
p/s: i realise i shld stop calling them 'secret' at this pt of time.
*
Sometimes I wish I mean it when I say
I want to run-away from all this and stick to my word.
we are the same people who scar and burn,
yet cry ignorance and beg for forgiveness despite knowing well otherwise.
We are fearful, unprotected slaves and our own masters, abusers and complimentors.
Certainly, certainly.
We are all well-wishers with good intentions, or at least with intentions of some sort.
If dark is the absence of light, then what am I
when it is night and there are eyes that cannot see me?
Just random.
I have decided tt today.
I am free-er than you.
Liberated-er than you.
Sucessful-er than you
Me-er than you can ever be you-er
n' thus, me-er is happier than you-er . =)
ha-ha-ha-ha.
Psychotically-divested-wht caffeine-
love, ME
