someone press reset.
Thursday, October 22, 2009/11:38 PM
Look around everybody. It's time to thank God for all that we have been blessed with.
I don't know why I'm feeling so moral and holy today but it has always been a practice of mine to silently thank God for everything in my life.
I'm chilling with my school computer (again) today. Have I stressed enough on how much I worship school computers? Aren't they just amazing. Tap tap tap. Amazing I tell you.
I've been going through a lot of crap today just to get my Written Report for project work done. It all started at around four in the morning when I awoke to realize that I have yet to perfect my family tree art project (HAHAHA NAMIRA AND ART? YOU'VE GOTTA BE KIDDING.) and also my part of the report was in tatters so I had to brush that up.
When I was a child, my sister was a child too. So we always did kid stuff together like drawing and all that. She always, ALWAYS, drew the nicer pictures. When she was in primary three, she didn't need a ruler to draw houses anymore. It was free hand for her all the way. Meanwhile. Little Miss Incompetent here used all manners of straight items to ensure that all the lines of her house touched perfectly.
Remember when the houses we used to draw had chimneys with smoke coming out and square windows and all that? My chimneys looked like books and my smoke cloud would resemble the shape of a cat's head. I once tried to draw a vase and it ended up being a human body. Or was it the other way round?
Even so, it is evident that I have absolutely no artistic talents at all. I cannot draw because it will always end up looking so disfigured and I get so frustrated. This morning, I sought the help of my mother to help me finish my family tree. I'll post a picture of it when I get hold of the other laptop. It ended up looking pretty awesome. This is why I love my mother. And my sister I suppose. She helped alot with the paper mache and stuff.
Dear God, thank you for my artistically competent family members.
I don't feel like talking about my day anymore because I just had a sudden memory of the conversation Syafiqah and I were having in the bus just now on our way home at about... nine thirty p.m? It's prettyyyy late, don't you know? We were both wasted after a whole day of PW rush. I think she felt better after I bought her Coke Light (...) but I still felt like shit.
The conversation was very honest. In that short bus ride, everything we'd been feeling all this while poured out in this torrent of emotions. Betrayal, disbelief, anger, sadness, loss. It was nothing like we'd ever experienced. I think the whole PW vibe of getting straight to the point to keep beneath your word limit was still lingering around us.
The following conversation has been edited for personal reasons:
'I miss it. I can't believe things have changed. It used to be so lovely.'
'Things haven't changed. It has always been the same. We just didn't see it.'
'The worst part is, we chose not to see it. We ignored it completely.'
'Would it help if we brought it up now?'
'No. it's too late.'
We wish things were back to the way it used to be. We miss it more than you can comprehend.
I don't know why I'm feeling so moral and holy today but it has always been a practice of mine to silently thank God for everything in my life.
I'm chilling with my school computer (again) today. Have I stressed enough on how much I worship school computers? Aren't they just amazing. Tap tap tap. Amazing I tell you.
I've been going through a lot of crap today just to get my Written Report for project work done. It all started at around four in the morning when I awoke to realize that I have yet to perfect my family tree art project (HAHAHA NAMIRA AND ART? YOU'VE GOTTA BE KIDDING.) and also my part of the report was in tatters so I had to brush that up.
When I was a child, my sister was a child too. So we always did kid stuff together like drawing and all that. She always, ALWAYS, drew the nicer pictures. When she was in primary three, she didn't need a ruler to draw houses anymore. It was free hand for her all the way. Meanwhile. Little Miss Incompetent here used all manners of straight items to ensure that all the lines of her house touched perfectly.
Remember when the houses we used to draw had chimneys with smoke coming out and square windows and all that? My chimneys looked like books and my smoke cloud would resemble the shape of a cat's head. I once tried to draw a vase and it ended up being a human body. Or was it the other way round?
Even so, it is evident that I have absolutely no artistic talents at all. I cannot draw because it will always end up looking so disfigured and I get so frustrated. This morning, I sought the help of my mother to help me finish my family tree. I'll post a picture of it when I get hold of the other laptop. It ended up looking pretty awesome. This is why I love my mother. And my sister I suppose. She helped alot with the paper mache and stuff.
Dear God, thank you for my artistically competent family members.
I don't feel like talking about my day anymore because I just had a sudden memory of the conversation Syafiqah and I were having in the bus just now on our way home at about... nine thirty p.m? It's prettyyyy late, don't you know? We were both wasted after a whole day of PW rush. I think she felt better after I bought her Coke Light (...) but I still felt like shit.
The conversation was very honest. In that short bus ride, everything we'd been feeling all this while poured out in this torrent of emotions. Betrayal, disbelief, anger, sadness, loss. It was nothing like we'd ever experienced. I think the whole PW vibe of getting straight to the point to keep beneath your word limit was still lingering around us.
The following conversation has been edited for personal reasons:
'I miss it. I can't believe things have changed. It used to be so lovely.'
'Things haven't changed. It has always been the same. We just didn't see it.'
'The worst part is, we chose not to see it. We ignored it completely.'
'Would it help if we brought it up now?'
'No. it's too late.'
We wish things were back to the way it used to be. We miss it more than you can comprehend.
self-proclamation.
My life is not a fascination worth the scrutiny of those who watch over me. Yet, I live amongst thin air and sparkling personalities.
I am an avid fan of the KoreanPop scene. So bring me to the number thirteen.
read my lips.
they're watching.
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