I want a new nose

I hate my nose! i sound like most girls nowadays, hatin their nose eh. but i have a dam good reason to hate my nose. i dont really care for its shape, as long as the dam thing can function!! but it doesn't!! and it hates me too. that's why it keeps running and running and running all day. tryina run away from me. you think I wanna keep you around, huh nose? no way! I don't want a nose like you! you aren't a nose! you're just a leaky tap that needs some serious fixin!!

I need to fix my nose!!!

sutoresu

so tired from travelling to and from school everyday. having a spoilt running nose. having a infection crap on my arm. having 3 reports to work on at once. having a japanese student seminar I just knew about. having insomnia. having strange dreams. having tons of revision and so much I don't understand. work work work.

now i have to face a shyt groupmate who is TOTAL shyt. his own writing hao bu dao na li qu yet keep commenting on my part dam vaguely. and when I ask him to point out directly, he goes offline. shyt or what? SHYT LA. thank goodness there's only one groupwork this time for this module. otherwise I will really have to take anger management or go to the dungeons cuz a certain someone will soon see no further light of day.

totally confirms my stereotype of guys discussed in class today.

arrogant moron.

one day you thought you've overcome
all loneliness you've found the one
so long your heart's been locked away
in hope you'll find someone someday
no stranger, not someone just met
but someone you couldn't forget
someone who always had a place
a face that turned from you in haste
that left you once to leave behind
a broken heart, a fragile mind
then left you twice, out and aside
although your words were joy, you cried
within, the tearing helplessness
left you deserted, empty, cursed
you see, you may have thought of  else
but history does repeat itself

swords.

exhaustion drains emotion
 words all laced with poison
 devoid of all repentance
 I'm meaning every sentence

 just want my words to pierce
 so deep there's no return
 regret nowhere in reach
on fire my heart will burn

so drained I only spared
one moment of collapse
but then the sorrow ceased
the tears had no increase

I either stab myself with knives
or stab your heart with heartless words
a million verbal bleeding swords
either way I feel no more.

Sundays.

I wrote a poem again, after a long time of nothingness. It is a horror kind of theme because i have been reading a horror book. Horror is my favourite genre anyway. But don't worry it isnt really that horrific. The poem i mean. I wish I could stop feeling guilty for every tiny second i don't spend studying. Because i really want to do something more than that... but each moment, every new word that forms upon this page, a hundred hands pull on my brain saying abstain abstain from the evils of game. Game referring to doing anything other than studying of course, not specifically game, kind of games. Alright enough of this endless chitter chatter, lets get straight into the foremost matter.

Sunday, Sundays, never seemed 
sad, but always evergreen 
A day of joy, when friends would meet 
A day to tread the nearby beach… 

The rays of the morning sun 
Captured on her fragile skin 
Reaching to her broken heart 
They seemed to seep so deep within 

The rolling waves 
Whispered a dream 
Live not a life 
Outside one’s means

Unveiling her eyes 
Upon the world 
She stepped forth 
Embraced the cold 
The waters lapped and licked her feet,
Her knees, her hands and soon her cheeks 

The ground began to melt away 
Into the deep, she swaggered, she swayed...

i wonder if it's the lack of reading that makes me unspired to write anything at all, even a diary entry seems difficult because the mood just isn't there. I think I rely too much on stories to create my mood and get inspired. but I really dislike reading. it's just not something I feel like doing any time at all. I want to, so that I can learn more things, but I don't feel like it, cuz I don't like it at all. I want it to be in a movie, or when I look at a page all the words enter my brain automatically and I know the story. I read too slowly, too distractedly that half the time I already forget what the top was talking about when I'm at the bottom. of the page.

and there are no more new Michael critchton books to motivate me. thus I shall start by plucking books off my sister's bed. she sleeps with books, I sleep with stuffed toys. yup. just like how an older and younger sister is imagined to be. at least in my own world.

my. I managed to get some thoughts out. maybe I could sleep tonight.

I also would like to test the theory that walking slower may make my shoes last longer. but I don't want any of my shoes to spoil cuz currently they are all my ideal, dream shoes! no more impulse half-liked comfort stuff that I buy on lonely feet days. all of those are history and only my loyal followers remain. yup. they gotta follow me wherever cuz well, I'm wearin them.

yay C:
I'm done here entertaining my brain.

piercing sounds

why are new piercings so madly difficult to remove. I've wiggle wiggle wiggled it but it's still stuck like the sword in the stone -.-

at least it does go well with it's neighbours C: