;to be fickle
I seem to have a general aversion towards permanency. After churning out 26 posts of post-humorous (inclusive of copious amounts of swearing, bouts of inexplainable insipidity and a gradual ascension of the psychosis I display of today) monologues I feel compelled to uproot myself and resurrect
somewhere else.I suppose change is supposed to reflect development, except the progress of my URLs from comprehension into absurdist is a blatant proclamationof how naming things isn't one of my fortes. Maybe its just OCD - the whole sense of settling down nevertheless in a nanobyte infested alternate universe feels so conclusive. The idea of relapsing onto a bench and never getting up when there are still paths left to take.
Oh well. I will be hauling myself out of here soon with my vagrant tendencies. Soon. Except 'soon' in my mental vocabulary is a fluctuating sense of time dependent on the variables of work load, parent observation and stage of laziness.
12:18 PM
;vive la france
;France07
(First Batch Of Photos)
8:41 AM
;just maybe
"Is this the first time RI meets RGS ?" -Dr M.C
Just like a star across my sky, just like an angel off the page, you have appeared to my life, feel like I'll never be the same, just like a song in my heart, just like oil on my hands, Honor to love youYou've got this look i can't describe, you make me feel I'm alive, when everything else is au fait, without a doubt you're on my side, heaven has been away too long, can't find the words to write this song of your love, I wonder why it is, I don't argue like this, with anyone but you, I wonder why it is, I wont let my guard down, for anyone but you we do it all the time, blowing out my mind, PS; And if I had to draft a transcript of all the activities that took place today, it would be so something like paragraphs of : !!!! !!!!!! !!!!. Simply because everyone is so crazy, that they define a whole new adjective on their own, one that without a doubt transcens traditional linguistic boundaries.
11:03 AM
;ruin my heart
No France post yet. Frankly I don’t think I can ever convey into words how alive the trip felt. It was amazing. The kind of amazing, when you are teetering off a cliff, with everything vast beyond you and you know even if you might fall you couldn’t give a damn.
Unrivalled ludicrousness from all the time I scrap together when I am in the lab. It doesn’t make sense but I suppose when you spend a minimum of eight hours each day watching gels run at the speed of Bangkok traffic, your sense of logic is susceptible to denaturation.
14 June 2006“If I die does God read my wish list out?,”
“If you die, I would know my wish list got read”
8 hours in the lab.
15 June 2006
I went to my mother’s clinic today. Well, strayed more likely and had a valuable conversation with the receptionist.
Receptionist: Do you have an appointment?
Me: Oh you mean I need one?
Receptionist: Well, if not you have to kind of wait for all the patients to finish first
Me: Wait? What if something happens while I am waiting?
Receptionist: No, no delivery
Me: Are you kidding? My water bag might burst.
Receptionist: What? No, I don’t think you are in the delivery stage yet, um take a seat?
Me: But my textbook said I give birth in 9 weeks and I used the pregnancy kit like two months ago
Receptionist: There’s still a long way ….
Me: What if I deliver prematurely? You mean this is patie....
Oh well somewhere in the middle of my diatribe someone must have informed my mother about the half-sensed teenage mishap with a self proclaimed gestation period of nine weeks, who is succumbing to hysterics about her unborn baby. She spoilt my fun by sending her nurse to tell everyone that I was her daughter, and yes I am a little out of sorts. Thanks mum for acknowledging our association.
She did give me money to get dinner so I would haul myself away. Now we all know, all extortions and bribery are never voluntary, but had once been encouraged. In the future, if I turn out to be a conniving sneak who has disposed of honesty and integrity in my wastebin, you know who to unceremoniously heap the blame on.
18 June 2007
I spent 11 hours at the lab today. Then, I sat outside the hospital bench like a homeless vagrant and drank Starbucks Mocha from 7-11 and ate gummy bears; and people stared. They must have tsked under the breath on the blasphemy of runaway, binge eating disorder teenagers who busk outside hospitals and nurture their stomach into potential cesspits for gelatine and caffeine. Or maybe, they have an imagination less hyperactive then mine and perhaps those stares were a fragment of my demented illusion which hikes itself up to ‘Overprotective’ mode whenever I sit outside inappropriate public spots. I waited for my mother for 10 minutes and deliberated whether my body might collapse from diabetes considering how gummy bears have been included in my daily meal consumption for the past week. Five minutes later, I bought myself another bag. Because…heck.
Gee. Maybe I should consolidate these and aspire to mature into the Second Anne Frank. We seem to have endured similar states of ineavasible haplessness under absolute tyranny.- Anne in the Second World War and Nazi Invasion, and myself in NUS's Invasion (of my school holidays).
I can foresee my death from excessive inhalation of Hydrochloride.
10:38 AM
he/she
Now that it's all said and done,I can't believe you were the oneTo build me up and tear me down,Like an old abandoned house.What you said when you leftJust left me cold and out of breath.I fell too far, was in way too deep.Guess I let you get the best of me.You made me fall in love with France!I would update except I have glycerine leaking out of my eyes, I spent my day watching proteins collapse over one another in a gel slab too thin for my finger to pinch (because my compulsive OCD is a three year old child with no tolerance for patience) and I am
such a photo-sloth. Uh, my camera was submerged in the dishwasher after my sister mistook it for her pet Iguana - which she frequently thrusts with her plates in the warped sense of equity she feels precedence over logic and animal rights - and scrubbed it clean while singing (or rather abusing her decibels) "MY IGUANA IS A DISH. MY IGUANA IS A DISH". So, all my photos were washed down the sink.
Right...the truth? My photoshop has screwed up in all its temperamental glory. I have permanently shifted myself to my second home - the NUS lab where I engage in hushed up intimacy with my newfound social spectrum; odd variants of proteins and peptides. I am too occupied fraternising with the brotherhood of biomarkers to consolidate anything. Updates and uploads as soon as I scramble my dysfunctional organisation back to order.
PS; I am missing France soso much
8:22 AM
