It’s weird. Actually, it’s not fair. Everyone else is a master at something. Take Timmy for example. He’s the master of making card pyramids (he caries 3 decks around with him all the time for practice). Or Joan who can catch popcorn in her mouth (even if it’s not her that’s throwing it). Or Sarah who can recite the alphabet backwards (she’s working on burping it now). Or Cole who is the most wanted player for any gym class game (he’s on so many teams, I can’t even count them on one hand). Or Horace who can sleep anywhere he wants (my high school sister seems to think that Horace should trade jeans with him). Or Molly who is the best singer in our school (she always gets the lead roles in the school play at the end of the year). Or Marti who is the handsomest boy ever (I used to think that he and I were meant to be together… up until Tina showed up). Or Tina who is the prettiest girl ever (no, I’m not that jealous). See? Everyone’s got something cool to be good at. And me?

Well, I’m good at pretending I’m not crying.

I never wondered why the sky was blue. Unlike most kids who  assumed that the science behind the colour of the sky was beyond their scope of knowledge or understanding, I went through scores of “WHY?” books to find out why the sky was cerulean and not pink (my favourite colour at the time). I found out many things from those books, how to cut a piece of paper and be able to step through the loop you made, how to fold a dollar bill into a ring, why crickets chirped, why the Leaning Tower of Pisa leaned, why the sun was in the centre of our solar system, how Pangea split into seven continents, why the Earth was round, why opposites attracted, how we were not descendants of monkeys (although it wouldn’t be surprising if we were) but never why or how come adults could never see things the way I did. Why everything that was possible in my world, wasn’t in theirs.

I know it’s hard to believe but from the age you begin to speak, you’re already fluent in two languages. Ifspeak and whatever other language you happen need. What if the spider sitting there is actually radioactive, what if the spider bites me, what if I turn into Spiderman, what if I have to save the world from Octoman. I swear everyone`s fluent in it. Or was. Because then you go to school where they trade Ifspeak for French. Well, they do in Canada they do. And gradually, trees HAVE to be coloured green and brown, one plus one HAS to equal two, there is NO alternate universe, the toothfairy, oh heck, Santa Claus and Peter Pan don`t actually exist. It seems as though we are born our minds cracked open and school seems to painfully sew it shut.

Why do I tell you these stories? I don’t have the answer to that either.

oh release meeeeeeeeeeeeee waterloooooo let meeee gooooooooo playyyyyyy. Have MERCY.

It’s a bad song. It’s annoying. Catchy but annoying.

Oh another note… it’s halloween and I have nothing to do… I’m all dressed up but nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. There is no partay no nothing. I am sitting in my living room typing this. How pathetic.

And, I need to get my sleeping schedule back because nowadays, I like sleep at 4am and wake up at like 12…

On a happy note, my chi straightener finally arrived and works amazing. ^^

I think everyone’s done it. Fall too hard. Not just falling hard but falling to the point where you can’t get back on your own. Typically, when you fall, there’s always a will inside to make you stand up on your own again. But when you fall too hard, it’s not a matter of inability to get back up but the lack of will to stand again. Fall too hard in love, fall too hard into despair, fall too hard from pain. In the end, you just want to wallow in shadows because it’s just too hard to see the brighter things and things are easier to cope with if you can’t feel anything.

Thankfully, we have friends. Always have friends who can make you want to stand up again and see that things will be better. Always. And so, I am always thankful for the people who are there for me because too often, I lose faith in myself. These valuable, precious, rare people who will always be there for me, I want to be one of those people too.

This post is to commemorate many things. Firstly, Luther Brown on SYTYCD is sick, disgusting, perverted, and so freaking awesome. His choreography just gets better and better, I look forward to his choreography every time. Secondly, I’ve discovered this loverly song…

Isn’t it adorable?

Thirdly, I am about to get so thoroughly screwed by waterloo it’s not even funny. Like really. Watch me go crazy.

OH and lastly, I joined Hip Hop club and I am SO ready to get buck. ^^

So… after a rather traumatizing experience at my first uni dance/partay thingy, I’ve decided to put some funny, I mean helpful videos of how to grind. Guys… take notes. It’s good for your future. Girls, don’t be afraid to say no. It’s good for your future too.

Here goes, enjoy ppl

DO DA WORK

cuz  it makes your life so much easier at Uni.

I speak from experience…. I am currently nocternal and drowning in too much work. So kids (even if you don’t have to do any work to get a good grade), do the work and you won’t have to work as hard as I am now and partay more. Cuz even if you’re genius at high school and you think you don’t have to work at uni cuz you’re already smart, you’re wrong. There’s so many people smarter than you at uni. That’s the place where you get to meet true geniuses who actually don’t have to do work and still get stellar marks as opposed to the victims of high school mark inflation. So victims, don’t get too comfy, work a little now and play harder at uni.

so I was thinking… whenever I read blogs, there’s always this disconnect between the reader and the writer. I totally understand. How is it possible for anyone to know that I’m actually me? Or that I’m not some freaky cyborg woman? Or that I’m my little brother? So… I will try and be as real as possible… by whatever means except for showing my face. That’s just a personal privacy issue. HA THERE that proves that I’m real right? That I actually care whether someone could see me or not. right?

You know, it’s so hard to lose someone… It’s like taking off those rose-coloured glasses. No one there to make you smile. No one there to make you laugh. No one there to console you. No one to give you confidence. No one to make the world go round. No one to think about during class. No one to tell all your secrets to. No one to wish good night. No one to spend $500 on texts. No one’s name to scrawl all over your agenda. No one to poke fun at and know they’ll still love you. No one to reveal all your weaknesses and know that they still love you. No one obsessively call when you’re lonely. No one to distract you from studying from your exams. No one to study for. No more daydreaming about future dates. No more cam-whoring with them. No more cooking for them. No one to sing to. No one to practice your poems on. No one to do homework with. Just no one.

I’m so sorry Gilbert. I didn’t mean to hurt you that bad. I never realized I was depriving you of all those things. Please… Rest in Peace Gilbert. I wish you a better girlfriend in heaven.