想不起　被愛是如何溫暖
想不通　未夠資格使你心軟
但也知道心會這麼酸

理所當然我的錯　令你忽然離開
半路留下我
為何這麼快看清楚　落得這結果＊

知我是個　無法討好的人
相戀一刻　只是我的僥倖
然而回頭　誠實去自問
我可討厭到　如此乞你憎

知我連眼淚　也絕不感人
只知怎麼考驗　你的操行
從前為何　纏在你附近

你不寂寞　便嫌我笨
難道我未夠好　未懂得熱吻
足夠令你憐憫　勾不起你的興奮

不擔心　自尊心這麼受損
只擔心　我將我看穿
我怕我　以後太習慣了失戀

更加速發覺　原本都不相襯
我未夠吸引　你未夠狠

到底這個故事　有沒有發生
何必受罪　心即使碎一碎
我仍能　繼續追
願那一刻共聚　懂得怎去相愛
愛人難　我肯學　定能愛下去

this ain’t the first time.
why are you always telling stuff that you shouldn’t tell?
worse still, always to the wrong people.

was your intention to make fun of me?
if yes, congrats then. you succeed.
i feel humiliated.

for all that you’ve done, there’s only one thing i could feel.
you hate me.
you probably like it a lot if i get upset because of you.
you’ve been trying to upset me non stop.

if you really hate me that much, just leave.
that’s the only thing i can say.

第一次你陪我坐著
我的手心是空空的
我知道那些簡訊聲你努力藏著
還怕我難過

不追問到底為什么
是我最后的溫柔
想笑著附和說分開是好的
但我們卻怎么 一起哭了

我舍不得
可是時間回不去了
愛你很值得 只是該停了
沒有我你要好好的

我舍不得
最后一次抱緊你了
我們錯過的 錯了就錯了
不用擔心我 我不愛你了

不追問到底為什么
是我最后的溫柔
想笑著附和說分開是好的
但我們卻怎么 一起哭了

我舍不得
可是時間回不去了
愛你很值得 只是該停了
沒有我你要好好的

我舍不得
最后一次抱緊你了
我們錯過的 錯了就錯了
不用擔心我 我不愛你了

至少你記憶里的我 是微笑的
親愛的 有你牽著我的那些日子
真的好快樂

我舍不得
可是時間回不去了
愛你很值得 只是該停了
沒有我你要好好的

我舍不得
最后一次抱緊你了
我們錯過的 錯了就錯了
不用擔心我 我走了

这首歌让我的眼泪掉下了来.
我不想变得像这首歌说的那样.
我舍不得.

i feel so vulnerable these days.
it’s always like that when i took my shield off.
people these days are so fuck up, they try their best to make you unhappy.
it’s like a joke to them or something.

by the way, i have phobia doing my assignment now.
i need to hand in my assignment to the same lecturer who fail me couple of semesters ago.
he fail my assignment, and now i’m afraid.
sigh, i feel so stone right now.

please will someone bring me to a place where there’s full of nice music so i can stop thinking for a couple of hours.
back to assignment now. bye

i laugh at my own stupidity as my tears roll down.
how fucking pathetic.

how fucking stupid i am.
anger. hurt. sad. regret. fuck up.

thank you.
thank you very much.

please. don’t even bother about this post.

it helps.
but now that i’m finally home, typing this.
it creeps into my mind again.

i thought i wouldn’t feel that much pain since it’s already the tenth.
but i’m wrong. i feel even worse.

exactly ten years ago. at this hour. you left.
remember how i lean on the bed. holding your hand ever so tightly and called you.
‘ba ba’

fuck. i’m not even finish and i’m already crying. fml
well fine. i don’t know what to say anymore.
wish you were here. as always.

dad. i’m pretty fine.
i hope you’re doing good too.
i’m getting a tattoo tomorrow.

it says.
fuck cancer.

a lot of times when i dream of my dad .it is about him coming back home.
like finally he’s back home again after like what. ten years.
same goes to yesterday’s dream. he came back home.

i guess i really want him back so much.
in my dream, the first thing i do when i saw him in the house is run over to him.
and hug him .and cry.
i don’t know how long i actually hugged him, because i remember i didn’t want to let go.
i didn’t want him to leave me. and i keep crying and crying.

it’s like every time, a part of me know that i am dreaming.
and that’s why i try to make him stay as long as i could.
but dreams are always short. and in the end i have to wake up to this reality.
dad’s gone once again.

dad. i’m a lot taller now.

it will be ten years very soon. but until today i’m still crying like he just leave me yesterday.
please appear more in my dreams. come home more. i miss you.

cry for the second time of the year. damn.

do you really hate me that much?
you constantly compare me with my cousin sisters, why is that so?
is there really nothing about me for you to be proud of?
i live my own life, you don’t expect me to follow everything you want me to be.

you just have to accept the fact that your daughter, ME is not an A-student.
nor am I a daughter who wakes at 8am, sleeps at 10pm.
work 6 days a week or whatsoever.
Sorry to disappoint you, i really am not that kind of person.

same goes to you.
i just have to accept that you will never give me allowance anymore and seriously, i accepted all the shits from you long ago.
i know you like to pick on me, well fine i try to keep quiet. i tolerate.
but can you please tolerate with me too.

can you like please. PLEASE stop comparing me with anybody else.
if you cant become the mother i wish to have, don’t force me to become a daughter that i cant be.
do you know how much i envy some girls, who can go shopping with their mom. who can laugh and talk.
where the mom will give hugs and kisses.
i know you aren’t like that, which is also why i never force you to be one.

i’m not that bad, am i?
i did not smoke, i did not do drugs, and i can’t even drink.
all i do is go out with my friends because they make me laugh, they make me happy.
there’s a reason why i never like to stay at home.
every time you saw me, you find faults in what i did or what i did not do.

mom, i’m a human.
human make mistakes and sometimes all i did is i forgot to take my hanging clothes from the bathroom.
i forgot, not that i don’t want to.

why can you forgot to turn off the gas stove and i cant forgot about things?
you cant blame me for loving dad more .he never compare me with anyone, he never said any harsh words like you did.
i’m the best for him but yet, for you i’m the worst.

i don’t know what kind of a person i am to you. never dare to ask anyway.
you might think that i’m those happy go lucky girl who never gives a shit about anything, who only knows how to go out and hang out with friends, do shits with friends and whatnot.
im an emo girl, i doubt if you even know that.
i cry a lot and most of the time, i can turn to no one but friends. i doubt if you know that too.

you always seems like you dislike me a lot.
i sometimes wonder, will you be a tad bit happier if i’m gone.
i remember you once said, take a bigger knife and cut yourself, small ones cant kill you..
i remember it till this very day. i remember every single shit you say to me.

it’s like, i wanted to say good morning to you.
but sometimes, i don’t even feel like talking to you anymore.
i guess you’ve no idea how much hurt you bring to me.

and you know what, i have the urge to show this to your bf so he can let you know, how exactly i am feeling.
i’ll never say all this straight to your face, i’ll probably cry till i cant say a single word.

and i too remember, you said.. i cry because i want people to sympathize me.
no mom, that is because i cant control my tears.
i don’t need anyone’s sympathy.

You put a fengshui master or psychic or anyone who has the ability to so call read the future, I’ll turn myself into a little girl and ask non-stop.
Just that day, I was sitting with some friends and so happen one of them have the ability to read, sort of like a fengshui master.
I asked non-stop. What does my ear say about me? What does my nose say about me? What does my forehead say about me? I pay so much attention to what he said. I think I pay more attention to him than my lecturers, wtf.

Then I asked him, what will I be in the future. He said housewife.
I wanted to be a housewife actually. I’ve always wanted to stay at home and cook dinner while waiting for the husband to come back.
But then again if I were to be a housewife, what about my dream?

My dream of becoming the world-famous fashion designer. I sometimes feel like laughing at myself for dreaming the impossible. Me? Fashion designer? World famous? I must be kidding.
I can’t even draw. I’m not even creative.
Yah, that’s why it’s called a dream cause I’m dreaming.

I asked him if I can be a designer. He said, ‘Never mind. Mass comm is good for you. Designer, cant lar.’
My heart sank straight away. I hope he didn’t notice that.
I asked him again hoping that he’ll tell me something different this time.
He showed me an example, ‘You see like this guy siting opposite of you, he can be a great designer if he wants to. He’s got his own way. He wont bother what you tell him, he’ll just do what he wants.’

Then I thought to myself, I’m not like that. I bother what others say. I’m always a follower, not leader.
I follow trend, I don’t create the trend. I just follow.
Whereas designer is the creator, not follower. If you ask me to draw, I cant. I’ll go blank, I don’t know what to draw. But if you ask me to copy, I can.

Is this the reason why I cant be a designer?
You know, at the beginning of this post I wanted to say I don’t care whether others tell me that I can or I cant, I’ll still go for it. For I believe that if I really work hard, I can get what I want. Or at least I fail knowing that I try my best.

But my emoness fail me once again. I feel like letting go my dream. I feel like telling myself to stop dreaming and just do what I already am doing. Finish my damn degree and work 9-5, or worst still 9-10.

What more, I have to go earn money for the course if I really want to study design.
It makes it even more harder than it already is.

But I don’t want to be a nobody. I want to be a somebody. I don’t wanna be just another girl you know.
I’m afraid to try. I’m afraid to fail. Yet I don’t wanna be a nobody.
So contradicting.

I no longer know what I want. I don’t even believe in myself anymore.

I regret when things don’t come out right.
I blame myself for choosing the wrong way.
I blame myself for my own heartbreak.
And then I’ll start with all the ‘I shouldn’t have….or I should have….’ kind of crap. To be frank it’s killing me slowly.

I know I should learn from mistakes and bla bla bla… but no. I cant forgive myself for all the mistakes I’ve made.
I’m really harsh on myself, don’t be I know.
But then that’s me, I’ve always been like this since long time ago.

I try to change. I keep telling myself its okay to make mistake. Every human being makes mistake.
Sometimes all this self-psycho works magically, sometimes it just don’t.

I’m a paranoid girl with problems, lots of problems.
Little problems, big problems, they just get heavier and heavier.
I’ve been carrying all these problems with me and walk and walk and walk.
For so many years, I’ve just been walking with all these problems on my back.
And you just look from afar.
So far away, I don’t even know where.

I just want to stop walking and have a loooooooong rest.
Dad, I’m really tired.

**

Some pictures from Zouk last week. I just don’t feel like talking bout Zouk now, so whatever.

* Ken’s last night at KL before going back to Penang to for classes.

* Both sick of drinking.

* Ken acting nerdy.

* And Ian boy.

I wonder if you can hear me or if all the letters that I’ve wrote works.
Where are you??????????????????
I can’t quite feel you, you know?
Can’t you just come to my dreams, give me a hug and tell me it’s gonna be alright?
You don’t even come to my dreams anymore. ):

I miss you so much, pap. )’: