foreword

Stop; watch.

That’s where you notice the (ever so slight) smile, with the light from the lamp posts tip-toeing in through the window trying to get a peek.

Busybodies.

They do help to keep the night sedate, though. All I hear are my thoughts. And the gentle breathing. It’s so quiet, you’d know if someone were taking a stroll outside.

Or doing a little jog.

… This month, at that time of night at least, I’d prefer to assume it’s a someone.

When in love, think.

When in pain, weep.

When in doubt, eat – like there’s no tomorrow. At first you may think it’s a form of comfort, then you realize it just helps keep you busy for the amount of time it takes for you to chew and swallow.

I’m back to gorging myself on Honey Bunches of Oats. Addictive, those – bunches of empty carbohydrates laced with sugar.

All you need when you mark your 21st year of existence are the people whom you know will help drag you through the next 21 at the very least. Or just the next 2 years, because the earth shall do its jiggle in 2012 according to the (badly-made) movie.

It’s been a quiet year so far, in a very pleasant sort of way.

I’m not one for capitalism (at least I won’t be until I get rich), but I’m eerily taken by the subject of Economics.

I write ‘scarcity is the cause of limited resources coupled with unlimited wants and needs’ while in my head I’m screaming ‘Of course resources are scarce!!! What with all the wasting and at least half the products in the world being stuff we DON’T need. Is that so much of a surprise?!’ in some angsty-youth tone but yet I score fairly well anyway.

(I actually wrote the scarcity bit off the top of my head. That’s how much I’m taken by it.)

Currently I’m able to silence the angsty voice in my head with a little diversion – the Super-Singlish lecturers. They’re pretty interesting (for the most part) but the Singlish… ‘How do you calculate Label Costs…’ ; ‘You need to get this to pass your Test Paple’…… As much as it’s killing my own phonetics I love it!

I woke up today deciding to get a tattoo for my 21st.

You bought us each an umbrella and we were flying in the air past the River Thames, and that was when I realized maybe there’s a reason why fairytale people don’t eat pineapple tarts nor fried food before somewhat romantic endeavours like this;

My hands were slipping off the handle and I really didn’t want to ruin the mood by falling.

Alcohol has my dying devotion.

Passive smoke is my sacrifice for my friends, and part of work.

Food is an addiction.

History I long to be present;

Present I long to pass.

Constipation is my unwanted companion.

Those I can discuss it with are all I need.

You are all I need
You’re all I need
I’m in the middle your picture
Lying in the reeds
- All I need, Radiohead

Get to work! Stop procrastinating! Stop messing around and do some work! Stop being lazy! Print your notes before lecture! Do something about the stuff you keep saying you want to do! Forget other people, it’s just an excuse!

… Just a little Sunday self-nag. I do feel better now that I’ve sat down and completed something today.

I do need to do something about eating too much, though. I haven’t heard my stomach growl for 2 months now. That’s not very nice and I kinda miss it now. Feeling full makes me a bit sick nowadays.

I also miss the scurrying from the kitchen dustbin whenever I walk in to grab a glass of water at night :( :( :( guilt-ridden. This is a lot worse then running onto snails.

Mmmm Durian.

Morning, everything a mumble. Wind in hair, slight headache dimming in quiet admonition. Salt trails left by the plane and my glass of green tea from yesterday. Sun receives you in a warm embrace but does not burn;
no one’s rushing today.

I’d sleep early to wake up to this every Sunday. Even if it’s not Sunny.

I’m wondering if I should wrap the new book I’m reading (Audrey Niffenegger!!), but I want to be able to run my fingers through the matt surface while opening it every so slightly so as not to bend the binding too much, or if I should have another bite of the pound cake that I made because I needed to finish up the extra whipping cream that we had, but the cake tastes pretty eggy I think I didn’t mix the batter properly because I was baking it for the sake of baking it (okay so I did go and get a bite of it even though it tastes eggy) and it’s started to rain suddenly even though the sky is still so bright and not completely covered by the clouds and I feel refreshed – and bruised – today, pondering if I should nurse the bump on my face with a hard boiled egg or leave it as it is, and doubting my sanity since such odd events would make me refreshed, but I really have never fallen down like that before and it’s refreshing! and cleared my mind somehow, but my tummy feels weird and the eggy aftertaste is still in my mouth. Bleah.

If my 15-year old self were looking at me right now, she would be significantly bewildered – slightly shocked – and probably wouldn’t believe that this was really me from the future.

That’s what I shall think about for New Year’s, maybe work my actions for the next year around it.