what's the problem, baby?

about this blog

This blog was opened by Anne Ng to accomodate her mind's silly musings and her daily rantings.
Do enjoy your stay here, and don't take what's not yours!

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affiliates

Nanyang.Past
VERA!
Laura/yabulollygabah
Grace
Shannon

Baboonz.Present
Rei's dead
Ben's "coolness"
Seth's Ego
Eugene's Writing

Raju.Past
Nikki!
Heidi
Nurul
Amanda
Christina
Princess
Renee
YiMin
Dora

RGS.Present
Nadia
Deepa
Alch
Charmaine
Kimberley
Heng Yeng!

OMlettes.Forever
Leti
Ashlynna
WINNIE!!!
Jiao

Odds and Ends
KAM TING!
Mirabel
JTan
Victoria(AVPA)

Church.Forever
Edna
Melissa from Catechism
CHEESEEEEEE

Links to Happier Places
the FAV site of FANFIC
the official site of HAPLAND

archives

credits

Design: doughnutcrazy
Icon: morphine_kissed
Do credit accordingly if you changed the icon.

to please a certain somebody.

unwanted, unneeded, unnecessary

Love is like spring, isn't it?
beautiful, majestic, short-lived,
like how a match is lit,
but quickly, in winds of time, is extinguished.

we lived in a happy moment,
trying to stop time so we could
trap ourselves in it so tightly,
that we'd never need to get out.

When you left, for far away,
packing all you owned
(my heart, perhaps)
I made no move to make you stay.

the facade of joy that we'd made shattered,
pieces cutting me,
yet I still pick them up
because they were the only memories.

The war, most have decried,
was unnecessary, stupid,
they blamed the government of course.
I agreed.

Who gave them the right
to decide who lives
and who dies
and who gets left behind?

So immature, that's what they'd say,
all for the greater good,
some ideal that we lower beings,
will never understand.

"Sorry for your loss."
They don't understand.
I didn't have the time to find you,
so how could I lose you?

I guess they were right.
We were far too young.

Absolutely no link in sight kind of poem. TYVM.

you mean you want to have regrets, nanne?

Ouch.

Ouchouchouchouch.

Regrets. I try not to go there these days, too many to count, too few to write. I wish I could list them, but then again, I might bore everyone. Good heavens, do I have regrets.

I used to think that I regretted Judo, or my choosing it, but I can see why. Every person needs to make this BIG mistake. But I guess my way of running away was cowardly. Really horridly cowardly. If I'd made a mistake, I should have stuck with it and made it better with what I had.

Instead, I ran. I ran away from it.

Escapology. Story of my life.

There's a HUGE difference between starting at Sec 1 and starting at Sec 2. Your friends stare at you like you're a freak. You become overly proud and think you lord it over your Sec 1s. You aren't exactly fitting in. You're becoming more and more disgusting every day. Exhibit A. Anne Ng, aka Nanne. Has all four symptoms.

I don't like how I'm handling GB. I love it, yes I do. And I'm accepted, more or less. But, as the great PAS says, to every man who breaks the thing he loves most, let this be heard. He broke her like a vase, and stared quizzically at the pieces. I shouldn't have gone from Judo, even if the only reason why I stayed is so I could stick to a choice I'd made.

*smacks head against table multiple times*

Stupid nanne. If only you had a bit more freakin' courage.

I wish I was nicer to my family. I'm lousy, really lousy to them. I have a lousy temper, lousy incessant chatter, lousy with lousiness. I want to sit with them and WATCH A MOVIE or GO TO THE BEACH or DO A ROMP. Anything but me sitting here and sewing/threadingRapunzel'swig.

I wish I could be better at acting bimbotic. I'm failing miserably. Cue disgusting crying noises. Oh crud.

/I may not make it through the night, but I won't go home without yoooooou./

I really like that song.

I pretend I don't have them, Ash dear.

i wish

things were different.

I've been said to be a people's person, sweet enough, funny enough, attentive enough, sensitive enough. I have friends, I dare say a good many, and some are popular in their own right, some aren't.

I don't have time for romantic love now, if that's even possible, because I find that I can love my friends enough to fill my life with love and people who need it. Who needs love when they can have friendship?

I want to iron things out.

Yes I do.

I love all my friends. I don't show it sometimes, but I do. Some may have fallen through the cracks because I just don't have the eyes/time/hands/patience/god-like-ness to really go to every one of you and say that I do.

Shout out to some.

Winnie: I really really do love you. I shall strive to show that to you from now on. I can be irritable, but I guess you know why. You have your faults, I have mine, I need to put in more effort. Now that we're sitting together...let's just try to make this work, yeah?

Leti: Well. I don't need to say that we have this psychic thing working for us. Anyways, cheer up. And don't get emo. Okay fine. I can't dictate that in your life. But, yeah, don't feel bad about yourself. WHO CARES ABOUT CHINESE ANYWAY?

(...your dad. but who cares about him? :D)

Both of y'all: I don't want this to boil down to one or the other. I can't only be friends with one of you. Either you two make up or I...I don't know what I'll do. I'll probably cry.

I nearly did.

Oh well.

I FEEL LIKE SHAKING SOMEONE. HARD. GRAH.

phew. black moment over.

OWARI.

when all else fails

they say I'm crazy,
maybe I am.
talking to things
which don't talk back.

-perhaps too scared to-

miracles,
all a bunch of fairytales,
they tell me,
where's God, they'd like to know.

-up there laughing, probably-

coincidence,
humans are here because of it,
the sky, the world,
all one evolutionary mistake's consequence.

-or maybe someone's prized creation-

trivialities, stupidities, they proclaim,
an immature little girl's ramblings,
who'd have thought?
she seemed sensible enough.

I can hear them,
somewhere far off and away,
some days, I don't need to hear them,
and some days, I pretend I can't.

-all the things they say-

never thought myself to be this romantic,
the type to sit
and watch
and think.

searching for stars,
small mercies
amidst blackness
and lost hopes.

cold baubles hanging on
a dark Christmas tree
even though it's the city,
and no one believes in Christmas anymore.

-nothing merry about it, eh?-

what's going on on the floor?

because I'm disconnected from the world anyway.

because I can't think of anything else.

because I find that I care too much about tiny details and relationships that have already died off.

because I've become a zombie.

because I can't converse with my parents without making long-winded, boring explanations of what the "YOU SUCK" joke means, etc.

because I'm no longer on the same wavelength.

because I can't find time to write anymore.

because I pray and pray but I can't pray for much other than pleasepleasepleasehelpmyOMteam.

because I don't talk to the Baboonz anymore.

because I've lost one friend to gain another.

because I want to scream and punch my sister when she has free time.

because I can't sit down and watch a movie without taking notes on how they act and what they say and what they do when they say it and how their costume fits them and how it adds to their character and how the relationships are shown and how everything links back to OM.

because I can't stand anyone anymore that's NOT in my OM team.

because I can't bear to look at pictures from last time because I was SO. FREAKIN'. *slap* HAPPY.

because things have to NOT make sense before I listen to them.

because I've begun acting all the time.

because I experiment with my voice and think about how to coach my team for their voice acting when I'm in bed. Instead of sleeping.

because my eyebags are huge.

because I can't talk to someone for longer than half a minute before saying OM, I've gotta go for OM, or I'M SO FREAKIN' STRESSED FOR OM.

because jiao's face froze and I counted it as a blessing. (in disguise)

because no one understands me when I'm talking, because I say things like, "*bleep* juice".

because I'd really like to sleep now, except for the fact that I'm on a roll and I have homework to finish.

because I'm in OM.

I love this record, baby, but I can't see straight anymore.

we were both young

youth. what a horridly overrated topic.

youth has to do with how young you are, yet it does not mean it as merely a physical maturity-of-body. it has something to do with long sentences and stringing them, it has something to do with minds and how fast you can do a problem of simultaneous equations. things like that get complicated, yes they do.

youth also means innocence. innocence. that song's playing in my head now. I listened to it on the way down from Port Dickson and it made me really really want to cry. it's so true. I felt so un-tied-down during the camp, and it seemed like each kilometre closer to home was just one more burden slapped on all over again. instead of thinking about God's love or friendship like I worried about during camp, I found myself busy thinking about what homework I hadn't finished yet and what things I hadn't completed for OM.

youth means stupidity. no one thinks highly of a immature little girl, yes?

youth means shake-you-till-you-just-wake-up-from-your-fairytale.

youth means vibrancy like colours on a tapestry or stars in far-off galaxy. growing up is like obscuring them, dulling them.

youth means me. and yet it doesn't. it's really complicated, like my Rapunzel wig, which I've never really completed, though it looks more and more like hair and less like instant noodles each day.

youth means happiness.

youth means PMS.

youth means weird and GAY and having half your face die on you.

youth means OM and Miss Tan killing you and Miss Chan being disappointed.

youth means I've got to get back to doing my holiday homework now.

when I first saw you.

is there someone out there?

MARCH CAMP 09 WAS AMAZING.

It really was.

I love GB. I can say that firmly, though I'm still vaguely apprehensive. It's the feeling you get when you stare at something that's so incredulously good and you wonder, deep deep down inside, if it's all just a dream, and you've been living like you were in with it when, actually, all it's been is this lie. This horrendous lie.

I have this thing with CCAs, after numerous bad experiences.

--

not stupid.

oh of COURSE i am. OF COURSE i'm LOUSY and STUPID and STEPPING ON YOU. sure thing. of COURSE. because, what, i like more dependable people? i tend to be meaner to the people closest to me? or is it just because i'm just TIRED of having to watch my dearest thing, the thing i LOVE with all my heart, GO TO WASTE just because i can't do everything?

i can't. you know i can't. i can't finish OM on my own, even though i cry myself to sleep most of the time just THINKING about how pathetic we are, even though we have the biggest talents (apparently) in the junior division. it's so disgusting, so infinitely STUPID, that we have the talent, we have the materials, but we JUST CAN'T DO THE WORK. i admit it, i'm exactly that.

i'm FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY (oh GASP) just because sometimes people can be nicer than you can be. that sometimes, when i help someone, it's nice to get a thank you, y'know? i love you, yes, but it's nice to have someone else to fall back upon, especially when you seem to have happily flamed me again.

you can trust me to cry about this later. trust me. i will. because i can't hate you for that long, and i sure as hell *slap* STILL love you, because you're my friend, and fighting is what friends do, and sometimes, hating people is overrated and stupid and loving people is just that much better.

all this time i've spent groaning and moaning stupidly over Zi Xin, because she's my best friend and i've given to her way too much to take anything back, i've realised, friendship is two ways. as much as i'd like to have Zi Xin as my best friend again (because things were SO MUCH SIMPLER WHEN IT WAS LIKE THAT), she won't think of me like that, so there's no point. it's not friendship like that.

i'm not sure if i even feel anything now. whether i'm angry or i'm sad, guilty or just plain pathetic, i know one thing. i know that i still respect you, i still smile for/at/with you, and, GUESS WHAT, i'll go to march camp and have a WHAL E OF A TIME WITH YOU because, y'know what, i've just realised something.

something horrific.

something so very DAMN *slap* true.

you're my best friend.

I actually go and LOOK at your blog, y'know.

and no. no hard feelings. seriously.

stranger

hello there.

in my stomach, i'm having this disgusting sour feeling. i wonder why. gb camp is going to be FUN. i'll make sure i'm NICE TO THE UGTIEYANFSHD SEC ONES and SUPER NICE to my group.

that's a promise.

...hard thing to uphold. oh hecktate *slap*

i'm gonna be gone for four days. i have a few messages.

OMlettes: don't give up! i'm doing my wig in malaysia! we'll OWN THIS THING. as long as on the 20th, we move veryveryvery fast. (can we go into school?)

Baboonz: WAIT FOR ME. don't have fun without me yeah?

Rachel/GA: I'll miss all of y'all. Seeya soon!

okay.

done.

bye guys.

nanne nanne

all of my memories

y'know what? scratch that horrid post. yes, that one down there. get it OUT OF YOUR MEMORY.

tyvm.

OM is kicking my butt. it really is. and it hurts sometimes, that I've been putting in so much effort, the OMlettes have been putting in so much effort, but whoopee! we're still dead. dead. dead. dead. *beeeeeeeeeeeeeee*

that kind of dead.

I'm putting all my writing on hiatus for now. I think I need to finish my Rapunzel wig and figure out what shoes she's gonna wear, and then, AND THEN, I'll write again.

NO MORE WRITING ANNE.

><

will try my best.

keep you near.

something odd and complicated

difficult thing to do, innit?

Say a sorry, wipe a tear, forgive, that kind of thing. all way too hard. I should have to deal with this. too young to know what real hatred is. to know that it's all about never EVER speaking to someone ever again, and not acknowledging the person, even though you bump shoulders sometimes.

pretty pathetic saying a pathetic sorry in a pathetically stupid post innit?

indeed. it is. but that doesn't detract from the fact that it must be said by either of the two parties and since nothing's happened on his side, whether because of intense hatred or utter I-DON'T-CARE-ABOUT-YOU-ness, I shall try my best to say it in as little words as possible.

I'm so sorry Seth.

funny how that makes a nice alliteration. oh skipskipskeroo and skipskeree. if he doesn't reply, or even come here anymore, or if Rei comes to me tomorrow and says what a shallow and horrid thing it is to do to say sorry over a stupid blog post, I have only one thing to say.

I never thought I'd become so soft as to say sorry. and because I'm soft and random and downright stupid to even think this would work, I shall pull a classic girl-thing to further emphasise my journey into idiocy.

I'm friggin' crying.

...*slap*

are you human?

Frankenstein is the MAKER. Remember that. Not the monster. THE MAKER.

And to me, he's more of a monster.

French is a bore.

Forgiving is freakin' *slap* hard.

Forgetting is worse.

F*** is bad to use and you can get slapped (by yourself) for even saying the softer one "Fook" *slap*

Furry is a nice thing to say. Just the right amount of Fffff and RRRRRRrrr. And it's doux in french, FYI.

Final Fantasy is my love.

Fanfiction is fantastic.

Ferregamo is too. And I can't spell it either.

Fenrir will never be the same again. Ever since I read a fic that changed my life.

Ferocious is a cool word to.

F's make my day, my liFe.

Too bad Odyssey oF the Mind only has one.

Ahh wells.

or are you a monster too?

notice me.

I'm lost most of the time anyway.

I've a little...vignette? Ficlet? for y'all. Something I wrote on the fly for a fanfic. Maybe I'll actually put it in!

--

The music plays but no one really listens to it.

The bell above the door to the bar tinkles merrily.

At first, he just heads to the counter, where his cold dinner is waiting for him, not even taking in the darkened bar. She straightens from wiping one of the tables and at the slight movement, he whisks around and looks at her. She meets his eye.

His clothes are rumpled and stained dark with blood and motorcycle oil. His eyes are searching hers as if they hold some hidden truth he should know about, as if there's something that he just can't grasp about her.

[i]Why are you still up? Why are you still here waiting?[/i]

She can't give him an answer for any of his questions, because she doesn't really know herself. To suffice for an answer, she flashes him a grin, because she can't pull off any other expression as well as this.

She hopes it reaches her eyes.

He shrugs, gives up trying to understand her endless vocabulary of sad smiles and happy frowns, and grabs the bag on the counter labeled "Dinner". Her eyes drop to the table as she hears the door slam and soon after, Fenrir starting up. She goes back to wiping the table as if he never came in.

The music's on but no one really listens to it.

--

The sheer sad poetic quality of Cloud and Tifa's relationship. Sad as anything, but oddly...real. Poor people.

take my hand.

So...

I've been churning out FF stories by the dozen, and amazingly enough, Rachel/general public likes it! Crazy world we live in.

I'm quite irritated at myself. I ought to be doing OM/studying now. Grah! I should ask Mandy Choo to walk down and help me with my makeshift wig. Being Rapunzel has its downsides.

Losing sleep makes me make no sense.

No Rachel just makes me want to SCREAM. Rachel, you WILL be online NAO.

PirANTS of the CARRYBEAN!

The picture in their honour is happily displayed in my catechism journal. Yay OMlettes.

Get going with OMER (juice)!

(malumpsmalumps...sorry. still remembering spon training.)

Sigh, I should go take a nap now. I'll blog sometime later...April perhaps?

Anne