This is for the girls (via midnightchatter)

Something as beautifully written as this, simply cannot go unshared. Thus, thanks Diah, for letting me re-post this. The original author, of this piece, is however, unknown.

To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong.

This is for the girls who don’t give it up on the first date, who don’t want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they’ve heard a thousand times.

This is for the girls who understand that they aren’t perfect and that the guys they’re interested in aren’t either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe… maybe this time he’ll have understood.

This is a homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don’t deserve their attention.

This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fuck up the guys in their lives without saying a word.

This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from “there are plenty of fish in the sea,” to “time heals all wounds.” This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.

This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it’s an experience that they don’t want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they’d rather not have experienced.

This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn’t care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed.

This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt.

This is for the girls who have been told that they’re too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.

This one’s for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won’t because it’s easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with.

This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he’s just not ready, he’s just not over her, he’s just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it’s easier to believe that it’s not that they don’t want you, it’s that they don’t want anyone.

This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you’ve returned home alone, for the nights when you’ve seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he’s with to be a random hookup.

This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn’t that he didn’t want a relationship: it was that he didn’t want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he’d realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.

This is for the “I really like you, so let’s still be friends” comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you sometimes choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep.

This is for the hugs you’ve received from your female friends, for the nights they’ve reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you’d have was with a pillow and your teddy bear.

This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we’ve believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we’d have ever wanted.

This is for the girls who have been satisfied with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don’t think that they deserve more, because they’ve been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.

yes, cross that line & put your lips on mine.

so let's make a little magic in the moonlight

Sushi Tei (you getting the Sex & the City vibes?), Perrier, peach tea, coloured plates that must contrast, brownies, Davidoffs and of course, my special picnic checkered mats - red this time (but had to be discarded cause of soy sauce stains grr). Meet my new bestie up there. Animal attraction, big time. So plans to stargaze were foiled but whatever ;)

Happy Birthday to my worst friend ever. I know you liiiiiike (do I hear an "aperr nas?!?" coming?)

youknowidunno

I always think that I know. But actually I don't know. And everybody else is familiar with the fact that I'm clueless... except for me. Because let's face it, I KNOW.

Anyways, today was the first time i had to interact with a whole group of kids. Was supposed to teach them how to play touch rugby.

Some small cute girl: How to do the fourth pass... what is it called? Can you show us please..?

Me: It's like this... *pops the ball* (with a lot of confidence)

Some small cute girl: Noooo... that one we can do, it's called the pop pass! *continues to demonstrate*

Me: YANNNI!!!

I know right. Like what the hell was i doing under the sun (for a good scorching 3 hours) pretending to know sports. Touch rugby some more. Sports and kids?? All my nightmares rolled in one. It was... a whole new experience. I'd probably compare it to giving birth, if i had that.

So tired out, from strategizing. How am i to sell myself to NUS?

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Musings

It's funny because the more i tell you to stop being stupid, the stupider you become. What's funnier is that this person who's telling you to stop being stupid is actually the stupidest of them all. The funniest thing is that we are all stupid, stupid *grins*

I do like you. But i like you less than I like him because he made me like myself. So now, I like me more than i like you and that is the best part. Because, no matter what happens... I'll still like myself when you decide that one day, you don't like me anymore.

I think that this is the smartest stupid entry you will ever read :D

It's disheartening to know that I'm never going to be enough for you but what killed me, is knowing that you are enough, for me.

I guess it's impossible to feel n-o-t-h-i-n-g. Pfft. *rolls eyes*

drawing blanks

It's funny that I am feeling nothing.
Except perhaps exasperation (solely from the wait).

Other than that, my weight, in the morning, decides pretty much the rest of my day.

I'm not feeling empty. I'm just not feeling anything. I've stopped feeling.

It gives off a dull, melancholic thud that reverberates and then evaporates off, leaving you stripped-off any form of constant emotion.

Double-bestie-date

Our countless of attempts to meet up finally fell through. Been ages and I swear, time-off, plenty of months and events in between sure made the heart grow fonder. Loved today. Educational cariacatures of god-knows-what, strategizing for appeal period (yes, make sure to tell them how incredibly homosexual you are even if you're not), seven trips to the moon talks and reminiscing about final year at MI.

Nadira & Diana, hahahaha seeing you two ever so civil and lovely towards each other means that the world will one day achieve peace. Okay for now let's just ha-ha life away!

Millennia's Carny

Saturday was spent back in school. I miss school. And I love the MI bear bears. Now I wish I bought it la.

The whole time I was in school, I wished that I could have been more actively involved... like, joined some club/sport. Suddenly, I fancied myself in student council. Then i can make school a better place, be the voice of Millennians & make this an ideal scene for lost souls to search and find solace. A school where everyone belongs.

Kepala hotak kau lah Nas. Dulu kau ader skolah... ko tak pegi. Skarang nak ngader ngader. Hari-hari terakhir di MI, aku nangis macam nak rak sey. Bual dgn si Mdm Mangkok LSL pon boleh jadi sakit hati, sampai basah pipi oi. Sebab dier cakap aku punyer Lit terok. Lepas tu I feeling feeling ah... macam dah try so hard gitu kan... Tapi berbaloi jugak, in the end.

Actually, saya balik skolah smalam sebab nak makan itu chicken sandwich kat cafe. With mango smoothie. Tapi tak bukak sey. I pasrah betol.

super human superheroes

Last Friday, we watched Ami graduate with his awesome GPA, played pool, GUITAR-HEROed, met this new, really really nice girl (awww), expressed a whole lotta love for people(s) of the same gender and and... I CAUGHT WOLVERINE! *raves about the movie & hugh jackman*

Sigh I am so dull.

Why liars lie.

Truth is beautiful, without a doubt but so are lies

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Lying is a desperate act of saving yourself the trouble of having to deal with dullness... and perhaps ease off the pain that honesty usually brings. Lies are tales that should be woven impeccably. Fabricated stories will otherwise be deeply scrutinised. While infallibility may be hugely respected, the existance of gifted liars in itself is questionable. Because a gifted liar is, in fact infallible thus never finding himself under scrutiny.

We all have, at some point, appreciate the lies so much better than the truth. I understand why people lie. Despite how greatly inconvenient liars can be, I admit, without a moment of hesitation that I am very guilty of lying.

I do not see why you find it impossible to just admit that you've lied. After all, you're the worst liar I have ever met. Where's the effort? I am disgusted with your lazy cover-ups. And purely insulted. Am I not even worth concrete, bewitching, yet still logically possible lies?!

If you wish to lie to me, make sure that your tale is a resplendent one. Make it impossible for me to distinguish fact from fiction. Cover your tracks the way a murderer would. Most importantly, I want to be hanging onto every word that rolls off the tip of your deceitful tongue, as you invent me a beautiful lie. Than only will that lie be justified, and deserving - because I'd have believed it to be the ultimate truth.

Keep this in mind: I cannot forgive a mortifyingly lazy and careless lie, but I can appreciate an exquisite one.

Kris Allen's version of Heartless

Whoa you can finally hear the words clearly, when it isn't coming out of Kanye's mouth, yes?

If I were American and have been only mildly interested in American Idol throughout the entire season... that particular performance today would have provoked me into a voting frenzy. And very fitting too. I think everybody who won't vote for Kris after this performance is HEARTLESS. Hahaha.

P/S: Will upload his video once a decent, clear one is up!!!

P/P/S: I wanted a video of the actual performance, with his facial expressions & everything... but don't haaave!!!! Grr.

hello my life has been stagnant hence i read other people's

http://p-opaganda.blogspot.com/

That boy is a work of art, I tell you. He IS art. And if one day, somehow, our paths really cross and he says "hi" - i bet i'd feel like as though i've made seven trips to the moon and back on a magic carpet flying turbo (huh??) And you would too, if you're a heterosexual female.

I'd be so embarrassed if he knows but c'mon. Like who's gonna tell him? HAHA. I think God can be cruel. He shouldn't make people too beautiful. Are the rest of us, common female species supposed to just stand by the sidelines as witnesses to perfect gorgeousness that we aren't worthy of? It's like dangling roast beef in front of a sausage dog which obviously just CANNOT jump high enough.

Am i exaggerating? Do you think I'm exaggerating? Go visit him and then you tell me. It's not just him, it's his BLOG.

Omg look i'm awake.

self-entertainment

(a) Justin Timberlake in specs is the sexiest thing to ever walk this earth, EVER. I love you so much when you wear specs. I simply cannot describe how intensely i feel for your four-eyes. I think you should do all your music videos from now on with them gorgeous specs.

(b) Been tossing the idea of waitressing around in my head since approx 4pm today. Bali Thai? I was thinking of Haagen Daz or something because scooping ice-cream is a whole lot easier than doing a balancing act with plates. How, how?

(c) We intensely dislike each other so I really don't see why you want to keep me around the house so often. I'm beginning to think that you enjoy getting worked up and angry for no reason because at least it occupies your time... and gives you something to do other than to sleep, eat and poop.

(d) ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHH.

(e) I no longer find comfort in shopping.

(f) Just that ONE phonecall/letter. And my life (in the short-term) will be complete.

(g) I really love Justin Timberlake in specs.

(h) I feel like eating naan with aloo gobi now.

(i) I really wish my sisters can be with me all day. I think they're the best gifts my parents have ever given me.

(j) People are just the opposite of stains - you notice them only when they're gone.

(k) Says Farah, "When you see a couple, both of which are very aesthetically displeasing, i bet they wish everyday that their partner's better looking. It's got nothing to do with the love-is-blind stupid mumbo jumbo. These people just want to settle down!"

(l) Amen to that.

(m) Did I mention how amazingly yummy Justin looks in those glasses? I think that shall be my last thought tonight.

Ooops

Suddenly I couldn't bear parting with them clothes.

Guess I didn't expect anybody to mail me! Heh. Thanks anyway but I've
changed my mind about selling them. I am crazy like that.

Sent from my iPod, Lola Smokah

The other alter ego

I just wanna test mobile blogging out. I can't think of a better way to kill time, and self-medicate my new found friend, Mrs Insomnia. So thus I'm tapping this entry on Lola Smokah. That's my gal! Named iPod that because I figured that it suited her show-girl spirit very well. It's sluttily sexy,isn't it? Not at all like the other names I ever came up with... Like my laptop for instance, is hewy. And my now deceased hamsters (may they rest in peace) are coco, peach, apple and Hershey. All very unoriginal and cutesy. Like even my blog name is too cutesy. It's about time I vamp up my lovables since sluttifying myself would require too much effort. So now my iPod is ten hundred times sexier than I am. Wow. I pity me, don't you?

I have no idea what I'm saying. And I think I tried to go on a hiatus but well... If you've been following me long enough I suppose you already know that my attempts to stop posting always fail anyway. Some people eat Oreos, some people take photos, some sleep, some talk to
their boyfriends... Others stick their tongues in their gf's bfs... Well, I post no-brainer entries. It's my vice.

Sent from my iPod, Lola Smokah

See ya lata, broccoleecher.

I'm gonna quit this for awhile now. Till I get the tingles again.

The way the lazy rock.

Okay so you all know I'm jobless. Because I am the epitome of laziness and besides i've grown accustomed to bumming around. Yes, this is the life. Nevertheless, funds do tend to run out and to support my lifestyle... I need an obscene amount of money to gallavant and EAT (yes idham, i can hear you scream "FAAAAAT" all the way from Tekong or wherever you are).

So, few hours ago, i put up an ad. And now, I is already $____ (3-digits) richer! Hehe *claps hands in joy* Omg if only making money can be this easy all the time. I get to do stuff I like freelance. And shake my legs while at it. I'm just feeling very accomplished at the moment. So indulge me.

Inspired by Farah, I placed an ad on mocca. Homg it reaaaaallly works!!! You should try it too. Go take a guess... what kind of ad do you think i placed? It's nothing sleazy, honest. Hahaha.

The lazy find the easiest way to do things, with only one objective in mind: maximise results with as little effort as possible. It works in the short run.

I was supposed to sell some of my clothes but I can't seem to part with any! Every dress/top has got sentimental value lah! But I'll try sell it on my blog soon... hmmm, to test the market. I already have a marketing tagline: If you think it looks good on Nas, it'll look WOW on YOU!

Disclaimer: Items worn only once/twice.

awfulness.

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