Revivify
So I made this blog, and I haven’t been updating it. I’m gonna try to change that, starting today!
Woah. Fatigue swallows me in a sudden wave, and I’m tempted to just flop down on my table here in VivoCity’s Carl’s Jr. and sleep. Haven’t slept a wink since 24 hours ago or something, and I’m still nursing a hangover which brings random spells of giddiness and migraine. Arrgh.
I missed my university faculty’s Freshman Orientation Camp! It’s such a pity; apparently they had a ton of fun. :( People were telling me how much I’d missed out on. But there’s a Sentosa/Ben&Jerry’s/Karaoke outing for my Orientation Group (Scotto!) this weekend, and hopefully I’ll get to know everyone there then! I’ll just pray they don’t make me an outcast ’cause I didnt attend FOC. :( The organisers were really sweet though. They said “you’re still Scotto loh!” when I asked if I was eligible to go, having missed FOC. Time to work for a last-minute beach body within the week! Boiled meat and vegetables please. :O
/emo
Speaking of getting hot, I need to get hot quick. There’s no way out; I need to do it, pronto. I thought about it, and have decided that I will much rather learn to weather the discomfort of a restricted diet and a strict exercise regime than to go through the pain of rejection. Gym with Alvin tomorrow morning will be the first step to my new body! MY MUSCLES ARE GROWING WITH EVERY REPETITION OF THE EXERCISE; tunnel vision k go! (kudos to Vanessa for that little piece of inspiration!)
Not too long ago, I found out that people were talking about me. They said I didn’t deserve to be with Ri because I don’t match up in terms of looks and charm. Deep down somewhere within myself, I believe what they said. Yes, I do. My eyes are still rather misshapen even after double eyelid surgery, and I still look like a dead chicken. I don’t have the muscles the hunky guys have by default. I don’t ooze charm. I don’t drive a swanky car.
I wish I could give the world to you,
But love is all I have to give.
I was sad when I learnt about the things they said. Apparently I’ve got no right to have feelings for Ri, let alone have Ri feel anything for me, because I’m too ugly. They had the right to say it, ’cause they look better than me. Ri scores way higher than me in the looks department anyway.
I write this with my nose burning a little, the way noses feel like before a boohoo comes. Is everything I do quantified by the way I look, and how sexually attractive I am? Ri told me it’s not true, that it doesn’t matter, and that we had our recent issues because of some sharp edges to my personality which were getting too prominent. I’ll change that. I had it coming. I was wrong there. But it’s hard to believe it’s just that, when this market’s full of prime cuts of beef walking around with their manly chiseled features checking Ri out, with their sinewy toned arms ready to receive and embrace, and their naturally beautiful big double-eyelidded peepers warm and deep like melted chocolate, and the deep bass of their voices vibrating heartstrings. Not to mention their unerringly gentlemanly ways. Ri likes such guys. Who wouldn’t?
Hence, I fail. I have a grand total of none of the above-mentioned qualities. I can only charge ahead with my new perspectives on people, my dragonboating aspirations and my revised gym workout, and hope it’s not too late when and if I do get hot and charming. Which is not very possible, unless I go fix more things on my chicken-face. I can’t even take a proper picture with me smiling without having to delete 20 takes or so before I get a good shot because it turns out looking disastrous all the time. We smile when we’re happy, don’t we? But I feel like poop when I smile, because I know it looks so frightful.
It’s there all the time, that maddening voice which dutifully reminds me that I’m not good enough for Ri.
/end emo
Oomph. I’m nodding off in front of my lappie without knowing it. This feels like the endless afternoon Physics lessons that I always dreaded in secondary school.
I went to a party at Butter Factory last night. The music was great! :D People were cool; bumped into a few familiar faces there. It felt oddly fulfilling to recall good old times as we exchanged hugs and exclamations of greeting. It’s good to know that time does indeed heal old wounds and ease tension. Most of the time. :X
Life is pretty dramatic now. I can’t wait for college to start.
I’d like to have some peace, some simple happiness. I want it. So instead of saying “If you will, I will”, I’ll go one step further and say, “I will. Will you, too?”
Food Log for Saturday, June 20, 2009
1530H – 1 pack wanton noodles (411 Kcal)
1530H – 1 can Season’s Apple Tea (120 Kcal)
Calorie count : 531 Kcal
Blog
Oh, I have a blog! (:
I think I’ll do some creative writing, force out some bad poetry, and post ugly facts about my life here.
Ljasa
Playing : Lament of the Highborne – WoW, The Burning Crusade OST
I want to play me some WoW. I miss it.
I wish we could all go back and simply enjoy the game together, without the stress of having to be good enough statistically to join groups and raids, or the foul WoWtards that ruin the gaming experience. That was then, and I really loved it. But it all went wrong somewhere along the way. Good ol’ competitive spirit swallowed it all up.
I will never forget the multitudes of hateful characters I’ve come across in my adventures in Azeroth. Honestly, I sometimes think I gained nothing but a bitter desire to outshine and outstrip others from playing the game.
You. Do you have to boast about everything and make yourself look more knowledgeable and better than others all the damn time? What happened to everything we said we’d do? Stop talking geek and look at yourself.
WoW’s such a social game, and a huge part of it relies on human interaction. That’s the magic of it, and that’s also what’s disgusting. There are as many asswipes in WoW as there are in real life. More, perhaps, considering that you can have more than one character made.
I’ve made good friends playing the game, though. (: Love to Leraithe, Risaylla, Shawkin, Kharza, Valval, and so on. And Jie and his brother (who lent me gold which I never got around to returning, WHOOPS).
I guess Schnuffles (my Hunter!) will never get to face the true Wrath of the Lich King. They had to go ruin everything by making it so damn big-scale. Four hours a day for two consecutive days? That doesn’t even include all the hiccups that happen in raids. Spare me. Sure, I know, WoWtard, your pro-ness allows you to clear everything in that raid instance in two hours flat, but think about the hours of life you wasted getting to that standard. Don’t forget to look in the mirror too.
How good you are at WoW is directly proportionate to how much of your life you are willing to waste on it.
Enough QQ. (To QQ is to whine, or cry, ’cause it looks like two eyes with tears flowing, or at least it’s supposed to) Damn, I’ve quit, and WoW did rob me of a few things. I can’t go back…
But I’ll think of you, Azeroth. FOR THE HORDE!
