moved. / 9:21 PM

To proceed and read more insanely boring entries about Sarah's opinions, please proceed to the following web address: www.the-wallflower-diaries.blogspot.com
if you actually have something better to do, I won't bother you any longer.

thank you and have a nice day =)

/ 9:51 PM

The Law Of Buses.

1. The bus will leave just as you are emerging from the school gates. Always.
2. If you try to catch the bus you will not make it and will trip and fall down the stairs in the overhead bridge.
3. The people you want to avoid most will always end up on your bus.
4. After you have waited forever for the bus, it will be really really crowded. But you don't care because you are late.
5. When you get of the bus, you will realise there was another one directly behind it, and that this one was empty.

The Law Of Homework.
1. On days you are the busiet, ALL your teachers will say, "I know you guys have late hours, so I just want you to do this little bit of homework."
2. Once you get home, you will realise you left your pencilcase in school.
3. After you have taken a shower and eaten, you will hunt for a pen.
4. You will not be able to find a pen.
5. You try doing it in pencil instead.
6. You realise some weirdo has added you on Facebook.
7. You will spend another hour on facebook, tracking down this weird guy who added you.
8. You will realise that it was one of your teachers.
9. You end up doing half your homework and then falling asleep.

The Law of Raising Your Hand In Class.
1. When you raise your hand, the teacher will not pick you.
2. He will, instead, pick someone who is very smart and sitting right up front.
3. When you reach the questions you did not complete (due to having the same teacher adding you on Facebook, and you thinking that it was possibly a stalker), he will turn to you and ask you for the answer.
4. You will not have the answer.
5. You will die of embarassment as he extolls the values of doing homework well.

These are My Laws. I'll add to them when anything new comes up.

/ 11:20 PM

This post is in response to Fayth's latest post.

Because I do want to be living in a story too. I mean, who wouldn't? It's so simple, to live in a storybook. You always know which guy the girl is going to end up with, you know she won't really die, you know that she'll figure out a way in the end.

In real life, we stumble around like headless chickens in a maze where we don't know which direction we're supposed to be going.
I try to pretend I live in a storybook. I write about my life the way authors write about their characters. I try to make it seem that even though my life's got it's problems, there's always the way out, that I would find the solution. I try to make myself seem special, because what's the point of being normal?
And plus, in stories, things happen to people who are different, who don't fit into the category of plain jane, normal. Whether it's the detached, deep thinker who doesn't mix much snd keeps to herself, or the extroverted one who's friends with everyone, or the extremely talented type of person.

See, if I were a storybook character, I'd be the girl with this dream and although she thinks her dreams are too far away, in the end she makes it.

Here, let me write the entire plot down: I'd keep getting knocked down, over and over but I still keep trying. In the end, I make it to some university in LA, land some perfect boyfriend, and get into auditions.

The auditioning would be tough, but I would get one good part and then work my way up the top to better roles. Ta-daa. Dream come true, happy-ever-after. And if I wanted to make a sequel, I'd get my perfect wedding and have a perfect kid, all the while with this bunch of complications I would solve by the end of the book.

Because when you have a storybook, you can almost always gurantee a happy ending. You always know that whatever happens to the character, it all works out in the end. You know she'll figure a way to make things work out.

Maybe this is why I can't write now. I just can't come up with an ending. I can write. And write. But I can't write stories, because I don't know how to end the story. How do you make a happy ever after when you don't believe in them? How do you make your character sort all her problems out by the end of her book?

You can't make her have an unhappy ending. because no one would read it. No one wants to read that they actually will never make it to the top, no matter how much you want to get there, no matter how hard you work.

No one wants to know that they will never be anybody, yaboosucks to you, you can't reach yourr dream, nananananana.

Grr, I honestly wished I lived in a storybook. My entirre future would be planed in detail by a nice author, who will throw stuff in my way, but always give me a ladder and a shortcut to the very end.

And then the very nice author plans the happy ever after. The end, flowers and Bambi and cheesy songs.

Grah. I keep thinking that maybe things will actually all work out in my favour if I try,but who am I kidding?

This is the real world, not some storybook.

Love, Sarah.

/ 11:11 PM

I feel like I'm just going to stop breathing. Like, if I think hard enough, I will make a solution appear in front of me. But of course it doesn't work out like that.
If you could see me now, you'd see my eyes slightly red and wide, wide open in shock.
In fact, I'm finding it hard to type. I feel like just sitting here and staring at the screen.
So I'm sorry for the bad English or weird spacing and paragraphing.

UCLA doesn't offer scholarships to IB students. And you have to have a 4.1 GPA to get in, or some outrageous good mark like that.

It. Doesn't. Offer. Scholarships. To. IB. Students.

So.

That's it, I guess, since I'm not really some heiress who'll inherit millions of dollars. I can't go to UCLA. I probably won't be able to go anywhere good. Anywhere near where I want to be.
When I told my mum, she laughed at me.

She's right. It was a dumb dream anyways. Who plans their dream and the best route to get to it when they're thirteen? In fact, which psycho dreams of what I do.

Shit. I don't know who I was trying to kid, about the acting thing. I can't act very well. I'm not pretty. God, I can't even go to college there.

Huh. You know what I was hoping for? I was hoping that I'd be that one in a million. That I could be that one. It'd be difficult, but I always thought, maybe, if I worked hard enough.
But no. I was kidding myself, wasn't I. I am one of the 999999 that don't make it.

DAMN IT. You know what sucks, is that I tried. I researched. I practiced. I took notes carefully, tried to be organised so that I could get the marks good enough for a goddamn scholarship. I just forgot to check if they offered it to IB students.
Huh. IB students living in SINGAPORE. This small little dot which everyone thinks is a part of China.
Maybe I'm just going to be stuck here. I'll die here, stuck, trapped, nobody.

I AM NOBODY. DO YOU HEAR ME, WORLD? I AM NOBODY.
Well, then, Back to being Invisigirl, I suppose.
I feel like I'm in a transparent cube. I can see the outside, it's just there, just outside my cube. And then I try to get to it. Bloody glass wall's in the way, innit.
It's like I'm running around in the cube, trying to get out, but I keep bashing into a wall, and each time, I hurt myself a little more.
Soon, I'll be a battered mess of blood and bones.

Is dying because you can't get to your dreams better, or is living in that glass cube, always knowing that there is an outside better?
No, I am not contemplating suicide yet.
Because I AM STUPID. BECAUSE I STILL HOPE THAT I'M ONE IN A BAZILLION. I AM STUPID. I AM STILL RUNNING IN THAT GLASS CUBE AND I WILL KEEP GOING TIL I BASH MY BRAINS OUT.

SHIT. This is a very whiny post. I sound about two. But I think the fact that I am able to write after that was pretty good. Let's not try talking. I may combust.

I fee like cursing.
%!*#&*)@)!()#&@)@____&#(*@&#)!^^!!*#&:#*#&***.
That wasn't half as satisfying as swearing properly would have been. but I won't.
PATHETIC.
sarah.

Watch me, watch me, I am Invisigirl. / 11:14 PM

Well, so I'm back to writing notes on facebook.I realise no one reads this.And no one's reading it now.But who cares?I mean, maybe I'm really weird, (Maybe? Ha, I am weird.) or maybe just super self-conscious, or both, but I come off a lot better on paper, in writing.

When you first meet me, you realise that I'm very awkward with strangers, or people I don't know very well. Or you think I have a mental disability or something.Like today, for example. In theatre we had to do a short piece about ourselves. My group chose to do monologues. My monologue was something along the lines of: "Uh... I tend to over-think anything I do and then criticise myself a lot, but - " Interjection from Fayth "No, you don't criticise yourself, you stomp all over yourself." "Uh, yeeaaaah...I get really awkward and self conscious went people's attention is focused on me and I overthink whatever I'm doing, like now, because everyone's watching and...uh, yeah."

And then later on, when asked what could be improved in 2009, I completely forgot what I was talking about and then had to be reminded by my theatre teacher. (For the record, I was aiming to be less self-conscious and worried about what others think of me.)

Another classic example would be in class, when talking to a teacher. My general response to whatever she said was: Uh...Okay... um.

I'm pretty sure I've convinced all my teachers I am a freak.

And in an effort to rectify any wrong impression they may have about me, when asked to write about myself, I launched into and expose on how I live in the gray areas of life.
What is wrong with me, really?
When a teacher asks you to write or draw something that represents you, most people draw something like a heart, or write about their hobbies, or something. But noooo, I am the idiot who writes about how she feels about things, and how things are very unclear.
Bleargh. I am designed to be a social misfit.

Sometimes I feel like I am trapped in my body, like I could be all these things if not for how I looked, or the way I sound.
And sometimes I have all these things I want to say, to stop people from getting a bad impression of me, that I either a)Talk up a storm which no one can understand because I speak too fast, or b) I go, "Uhh. Um. Yeaaah. uh." Neither of which have the desired effect.

Okay, so now we all know how much Sarah hates talking about herself.
But in theatre it's different.
Because we take on roles, so I'm not really me.
I act the part. In fact, if you asked me about my character, I could give you a thousand word essay.
Even for short plays, I am completely comfortable in my character's skin. Too bad I'm not too comfortable in my own.
In plays, I am willing to do stupid things, like jump around and cluck like a chicken, because, I'm not being stupid, my character is.
But if you dared me to do it in real life, I'd probably start blushing crazily and refuse.With friends it's different, I guess, because they don't judge you very much. They know who you are and whatever nonsense you try to pull, it's fine, because you're you. And because I have the bestest friends.

When I'm comfortable, I'm able to be completely rational and sane, but if I get freaked out, the only thing you'll actually be able to hear from me is a hell of a lot swearing and me going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

Obviously, I am not good when under pressure.

And you'd think with all this madness going on in my head that I'd be some unpopular social misfit, but I'm not. I'm not very popular, not everyone knows my name, but I don't get picked on and I have many good friends, who don't mind that I'm freakishly balance-challenged and that I'm stranger-phobic.

So, that's it I guess.
Love, Sarah.

/ 1:49 PM

I KNOW! I know! I killed my blog. I buried it. You could call it murder, even.
I mean, I should start posting about how my camp went, how Malaysia was, and how my Christmas was and all. And then I should start grovelling to you guys for abandoning the blog for almost one and a half months.

I mean, I should.
But I'm not going to.

Well, as the post suggests, I'm not here today to tell you about camp and Malaysia. Which I will tell you at some other time that is not now.
Anyway.

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us - don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know!
How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell one's name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
- Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson,
Don't you dare to say.
That being nobody
is good.
I've tried that before.
It doesn't work out.
And what do you know
About being nobody?
You are Somebody,
You have left your mark.
In indelible ink
on this world.
I am Nobody.
With nothing to my name.
Nothing left behind
Dreaming of being
Someone.

I know it's dumb, but everyone has their dumb moments, right? Well, it's not really a dumb moment, but oh well.
*deep breath*
*squeak*
*another deep breath*
i want to be an actress.
There.
I said it.
Okay? Itold you it was dumb.
Now you'll probably say, No, it is NOT stupid.

But you haven't let me explain it first. I don't really want to be a star on our national televisions, because that basically involves either a motherlode of Chinese, or shows like The Noose, Phua Chu Kang and Maggi and Me. Which are all very good if you like that stuff.
I actually mean a movie-television-series actress.

And here comes the part you learn why that's a dumb ambition.
a) I'm Asian.
Have you seen many Asian actresses around, huh? Have you seen them star in many other shows that don't include hi-ya-ing people and the typically chinese rubbish that the West thinks we're good for, like playing the waitress serving the main character in the Chinese restaurant? I mean the only one I can think of is like, Sandra Oh, from Grey's Anatomy.

b) I'm ugly. NO, UH-UH BEFORE you start those violent accusations of "You're NOT ugly" Let me tell you why. I have a 'small, button' nose, which is good if you're a anime character, which I unfortunately am not. I have bushy eyebrows (apparently adds character to my face). Yeah, right. I also have a moustache. And I'm a freaking girl. People say it's not that obvious, but it totally is, they're just being nice.

c) There are two standards of acting: Either you can act, or you can't. I don't know if I can act. I'd like to think that I can, but I don't know, and I can't judge myself. And there are a whole bunch of hopefuls like myself who actuallt live in Los Angeles and are not ugly or Asian.

d) I am nowhere near Los Angeles. I am on a small island that has to be pointed out with a RED DOT on the globe. Or else you'd just miss it or mistake it for a speck of dust. How do you get talent spotted all the way here? Answer, in case you didn't know is: You can't.

So here is my wonderful plan to get to Los Angeles: Start work once I get to the legal age of 14. Save as much money as possible until I'm 18. Apply to Univerity of California, Los Angeles.
Get into UCLA. Audition while going through college.

I know. I told you, it's stupid. But I do want to be an actress really badly. I know how people think Hollywood's full of stuck-up bitches who will sleep with people to further their careers, but I would never be like that.
Also did I mention, I'm Asian and not pretty?

My mum thinks it's stupid I've spent the last few days going through different college websites. I mean, I even picked out what degree I'm going to do and made sure UCLA had it.
Applied Linguistics.

And I totally agree with my mum that I'm getting way too obsessive. I mean, who picks colleges when they're 13? She also thinks this actress thing is a phase.
But it's not.
I mean it hurts when I think about how I'll never make it. I cry, sometimes too.

And there's only a teensy chance that I'll even make it to UCLA. It's a good school, and it's America's most applied to school. (I checked the statistics)
And it costs over 30,000 American dollars for school fees and boarding.

I'll never get that much money by the time I'm 18, even if I don't spend a cent.
My family's not rich either. We're very much the average Singaporean household, so unless we like find oil, or strike the lottery, we're not going to come by that much money.
I could apply for a scholarship, but there's an even higher chance I won't get it.

My grades are higher than average and all those NSW and GEP tests I took place me in Singaopore's top 10% but I don't know if that's good enough for a scholarship.

And plus some have strings attached, which means I have to come back to Singapore for four years after college because I'm in a bond.

And I'll probably not make it as an actress because there are so many more talented more beautiful actresses out there who probably wouldn't mind the no morals thing.

Everyone says I should try the Theatre route, like what I'm doing now. I think that's good too, and I probably will start out doing that. I mean the theatre is so much deeper.
So much more to it than staring at a camera and trying not to look constipated. With theatre, there's always a deeper message to it.

So I guess I don't quite have EVERYTHING planned out (I'm so desperate, I'd play the part of the Asian girl who walks past the main character while speaking Chinese to her mum.)

But I should be dealing with the NOW part of life and figuring out what I can do now.
Which is why I've been searching for roles on the internet in Singapore.
Madness.

Ah well.

Merry Belated Christmas and a Happy New Year to All! (In the background, fading out: all..all..all.l.ll.)

Sarah.

I'm going on hiatus / 10:30 PM

Hey all, (which is like, 3 people because no one ever reads my blog)

It is the night of the 27th of November. Thanksgiving.

Yay for the humans eating turkey and watching the preschoolers put up plays about pilgrims.
Boo for the poor turkeys.

Well, anyway, on the night of Thanksgiving and the eve of Black Friday, I'm here to tell you I'm going on hiatus.

No one'll actually miss my scintillating blog posts for the week and a half I'm gone, right? In fact, I sometimes take longer than that to post. Anyay.

So here is what I'll be doing (not spending time in front of the television watching Grey's Anatomy and FRIENDS reruns. That was getting pathetic.)

From tomorrow to Sunday, I'll be at CCF camp. Children's Cancer Foundation. And now you're like huh, wait, Sarah has cancer?
I don't. My brother did, and so did my mum, which is why I'm with CCF. Because of my brother.

Anyway, and then I'll come back and then I'm leaving for Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia for a visit-my-very-very-numerous-relatives trip. With my grandmother.

Right now, camp seems fun and the Malaysia thing not so much.

And that's because i'm expected to remember my numerous relatives' names, and their titles, like Mai Mai or Gu Gong, Mai po, and some have funny stuff attached to their names and it gets very confusing. Also because the only people I have for company are the characters from my book, and a wall because most of the relatives below 16 are boys and I haven't seem them for over three years.

And because it's like the elder generations are always passing judgement about me, like, that girl eats with her elbows up. She can't remember what to call me etc. Gargh.

Well, I don't know. I hope it turns out alrigh. When I get back I'll tell you about it.

ANd this is weird, but I read this book where the main character was this guy fixated about last words.
I looked Last Words up on Wikipedia, and I loved Lady Nancy Astor's last words. When she awoke to find her family crowded round her as she lay sick, she said, "Am I dying, or is this my birthday?"

So in case I die, I want these to be my last words (I may end up with a last paragraph): There is no wrong time to die. But to say you have fulfilled life is different. So live today like it's your last, because it might be. Love everything, everyone and give all to those who need.

Love, sarah.

Law system / 7:55 PM

I'm back with another blog post I'm pretty sure will end up being those roundabout argument things that I am oh-so-fond of.
I'm sitting and frustratedly banging at my computer keys here, because I really can't be bothered to do an introduction to this blog post, because I think I just read one of Jodi Picoult's most powerful books ever. And I really need to post!
And no, I am not going to waste time telling you the plot in detail. You should really go read the book. And also, if anyone reads one of those short summaries, god so help me, I will kill you.

Anyway, enough with wasting time.
Basically, I am here to slam death penalties.

To begin with, I want to ask why the hell death penalties are still around.
Death penalties, and I don't care if it's hanging, or death by a firing squad or whatever.

When people are sentenced to death, anywhere, it raises this huge controversy. And you'd think by now, someone would have made this illegal.
It's barbaric.
It's absolutely downright stupid.

Let's call my criminal Bob.
Let's say Bob kills Bill.
And then Bob is sentenced to death.
Bob is killed by law.

And then what is the result of this mess? Two deaths.

I am going to look at this from different perspectives, and I hope I don't miss any.

Firstly, the one and only sole reason I can think of that would even somewhat justify this even in the smallest sense of the word 'justify' is that simply, the government wants to keep the citizens of its country safe. I can fully understand why they would see death as an option if it meant keeping people safe to make sure that others don't lose their lives as well.
But there are plenty of other ways to ensure this.
Will these other solutions take more time, effort, and money?
Well, duh.
But a human life is priceless.

Okay I think the crux of the matter is this:
Is a murderer any different from me and you?
Are our lives any more valuable than a criminal's?
Hands up, if you've never sinned.

Really, either way you look at it, it's a life lost.
Maybe it is not an innocent life, but does committing a crime, make your life less valuable?
A life is a life, regardless of what they've done.
And if the above statement is true, then we might as well, go drag some guy of the streets and shoot him.
And plus, if Bill killed Bob's wife before Bob killed Bill, why is it a crime for Bob to murder him, yet it's fine if the government had killed Bill/Bob?

This is like the Hammurabi's code that we learn in IHSS. It's basically, an eye for an eye, a tooth for tooth. A life for a life.
And how dumb is that? We end up with twice the misery, twice the hate, and twice the pain. And it's not even for a good reason.

Here's the ironic part that kills me: It's a bunch of humans doling out this punishment.
Humans are so imperfect (Understatement of the millenium)
So what give us the right to go, Hmm, you killed someone. You are therefore a meanypuss and should die! (okay, I'm exaggerating a little, but you get the point, right?)

Humans, who are the ones killing the world, the ones who go to war and then destroy everything in their path. Humans.

And humans are doling out punishment to someone who kills.
Personally, I've never gone to war, or shot someone, or created an atomic bomb, but it's the fact that every single bloody one of us has the power to do this. It is within our reach to so something like that.
Aaaaand we're judging a murderer why again?

And it's not like jail, where you actually are alive.
Humans, with their crazy screwed up minds, judging people with their own warped sensibilities are saying that people should die.
Die.
Condemning someone to that fate.
Lose your life.

Now explain to me again, how death penalty is a great idea?

Let's consider it from a Christian standpoint.
In this case, we are guilty of sins, but in order to lift these sins, we need to pray an confess what we've done and ask the Lord to forgive us.
Okay, maybe Bob is Christian.
So if Bob is forgiven by God, he is innocent of the crime in the Lord's eyes.
So what is he being punished for? Nothing.
I don't understand other religions enough to be able to consider this from their viewpoint, though, so I don't know if there is a religion that is fine with the death penalt.

Okay, so maybe to Bill's mother in law, Bob's death is 'justice', because it's right that Bob should die just like what he did to Bill.
But it's not really, is it?
It's not good for anybody. It's not good for Bill's family it's not good for Bob's family either.
Maybe Bill's family holds a grudge against Bob.
So instead of Bob's death as being justice for what has been done, Bob's death is now revenge.
And that's just emotionally and mentally not good for anyone.
Watching Bob die won't bring back Bill.

Now, let's talk about Bob.
I don't believe that anyone is cold hearted or cruel.
I think every sane person does crimes for a reason.
An unreasonable reason , maybe, but a reason all the same.

Most of them regret their crimes, they want to make it up to other people.
They want to do something good with the rest of their lives.
But here's the thing: they can't! Because they're DEAD.
It's time to stop judging criminals by the crimes they did but by the person. The whole person.

Death penalties are wrong, and twistedly cruel. Imagine if someone is hanged, and the next day, whoopsie daisie! He's not guilty, actually, it was some other guy. What now? Hang the other guy?


Where is the justice then, in death penalties?
If the law is about justice and doing what's right, why is killing someone legal?
Where's the logic in that?

But then again, who am I to talk, huh? I'm a 13 year old who has grown up within the shores of Singapore and I only see a sliver of the world.
But there are alternatives to death, but they're tricky and require time, money and space.
So in the mean time, I'm going to try and think of a better way to replace the death penalties.

Because there's got to be another way.

Life is not a damn storybook. / 1:01 PM

I'm back, after neglecting my blog.
Anyhoo, my title.
For once, my title has everything to do with this blog post.
I was looking at all my previous blog posts and Fayth's latest one, and I have come to the conclusion that storybooks are evil.

I love reading, and I love books, but they're evil.
Well, most of them are anyway.

Books. Fiction.
The type where the main character is never very popular, and finds a million faults in herself/himself, always happens to be clumsy, but really is beautiful as all hell, just that she can't see her inner beauty yada yada yeah. You get the type.

And in the end, they have this marvellous little happy ending and all the villains are dead. Whee.

I mean, not that I don't enjoy reading.
In fact, I'm a bookworm.

But the thing is, books are all a damn lie. LIE.

In real life, if someone thinks she's ugly, not aceptable looking, in most cases, she is. Or at the very least average looking.
But nooo, in storybooks when the characters say they're ugly, then at the end before some grand ball, they put on the perfect dress and their best friends do their make up and then suddenly, oh! They're beautiful, can't recognise the face in the mirror etc.

And in real life, not everyone gets the perfect happy ever after.
Not that I don't think that happy ever afters don't exist, because they do, but they're extremely rare. And the person who won the luck lottery never realises how fortunate she is and that not everyone gets that type of fairytale.
And do you think authors know that fairytale endings are never real?
Yeah, they do.

But they go around writing about these happy endings because maybe they dream about this happy ending that they know they're not going to get so they settle for writing someone else's happy endings for them.

And so this whole bunch of authors write happy endings, causing the readers to be faced with a barrage of happiness.
And then they think that since, you know, they've read so many books and happy endings happen in all of them, then happy endings must be real.

I was one of those poor suckers.
But really, now I realise the truth behind all that sappy happy endings.
Not everybody is pretty.
Not everybody finds happiness in the end.
People die.

The world is frikkin screwed up, we knew that from the start, right?
But it is our world.
It sucks, but that's the truth.

Happy endings don't happen all the time.
And you know what?

I've been pretending a lot, as mentioned in my previous post, but I finally realised the reason why.
I trip.
I'm clumsy.
My life isn't the best.
I think a lot.

This is me trying to be the type of girl in those stupid stories.
I'm trying to make me that so that I'll get my happy ending.
Dumb, huh?

I mean, if I really was in a book, this is what would happen: Cynical girl, who doesn't believe in love, doesn't believe in happy endings etc. -----> meets some perfect people, gets her happy ever after in the end, realises that she was wrong...live happily ever after.

Okay, admitedly, I am still hoping that that's the case, even though I know it's not.
I am so dumb sometimes.

Wth Love,
Sarah.

P.S. I still want to be an author, but I swear never to write that type of story ever. Because if I tried to write that, I'd just get very very mad and then kill off everyone in my story, like in a Shakespeare tragedy.

Breaking my own heart / 11:59 AM

Hey, again...
I think this is my fourth attempt at doing a blog post. I abandoned the ones before because they sounded so weird.
I promised to be honest on this blog and I am going to be.

I think that my blog is all roughly based on the impression I want to give people, like this blog only shows one part of me, my favourite part of me.

And I wonder, is that wrong? Am I really being honest when I only show you this part of me when I think so much?

I mean, I make out that I'm clumsy, and that I trip a lot (very true), that I'm very introspective ( I am) but reading through the past blog posts it's like that's all I ever talk about.
Because I don't want people to think that I'm special and that I'm only ever like this.

Because I do do ordinary stupid things, I get into awkward situations, and I make really bad choices. And I guess reading through my blog you can't really see that.

I'm good at making people think I'm someone I'm not really. I mean this whole introspective part of me IS me, but it's not exclusively me.
Does that make sense?
I'm so many people and this i just the part of me that I show most of the time, but I don't want anyone to think this is the only part of me.

I do do stupid, dumb things, I'm really not glamorous.
I mean, I try to act glamorous, and sometimes it works, but most of the time I end up looking really dumb.

Does everyone do this? Act, I mean.

Here is what I think. there are two forms of acting.
One it the stage/film/television type.

The other one is so much deeper that it scares me.
This other type of acting is the act that we put on to get on through our daily life. We act to fit ourselves into a particular stereotype. I mean, we act the way we think someone like us should act. I think we're all guilty of this, really. Or maybe it's just me.
If you were me, when I slipped, I'd try to make it obvious-er. I do this a lot, so much that it's become second nature for me. When I trip I normally go whooahh!

Okay, so maybe this may seem natural to people, but it's not really. Going 'Whooah!" is something that would happen in a book or a movie, not in real life. It's really not natural, and I'd really prefer to fall silently. But when I draw attention to my slipping and falling, it's like I'm fitting in with the stereotype of Sarah.

And I used to think this was a good thing, but after a while, and looking back, I don't think it is. Do I really want to show only this part of me and be stuck in this stereotype? So here. I've decided to try and escape this mold that I'm creating for myself while it's still shallow.

This is a really weird post, and I'm sorry. But if you understand what I'm talking about, please don't call me weird or whatever. You are entitled to your opinion, and I am entitled to mine.

Love,
Sarah

Missing / 4:06 PM

Hey again, I know I've been AWOL for a while (Again.) but I've been very busy. Anyway I'm back on blogger with a new and improved self centered topic.

You guessed it, this topic's about me. Again. Because I have been attempting to consider myself from a third person perspective.
It's no easy feat, believe me, trying to seperate the me-me and the stranger-me.

But I have some stuff so far.


At first glance, I look unfriendly, mean, cold...whatever. This is because when I am alone I normally think. And when I think, I tend to frown, scowl and oddly, pout. So I look kind of scary. Not really the type of person you'd want your daughter to make friends with.

I don't look average.
I don't have that Asian perfect, swingy black hair. I am Asian. I have very black hair. But I really don't have that perfect toss-over-your-shoulder, Let's-do-a-commercial-for-conditioner! type hair. More like, fly-all-over-into-your-eyes-partially-blinding-you-causing-you-to-trip hair.

I also have thick eyebrows, courtesy of my dad's hairy genes. When scowling, this adds to the effect of DO NOT APPROACH!

My eyes are Asian, and Chinese-y looking. But not really. They are considered pretty wide for Asian eyes, except when I smile. When I smile, they become significantly smaller.
They are really dark, which I hate. I mean, have you ever heard anyone say: You have such deep black eyes... Or your eyes are like liquid pools of ... um, tar? Way cool. Not.

I have a pretty average-y nose, other than the fact thatI have a zillion blackheads. I mean I know I should really take care of my skin more, but I really can't be bothered sometimes.

I have hair on my upper lip, courtesy of my dad's hairy genes again. I mean, seriously I think that if you cut my hair, I could probably look like a guy enough to get into NS.

Normal lips, I guess... although they pout when I think.

I am generally big-sized. As in, I have a bigger frame. I am not of average weight, I am slightly underweight

I'm approximately 5 foot 3 inches (160 cm) and weigh 93 lbs(42.5 kg) (average weight for someone my height is 49 kg)

So I guess I am skinny, but not as skinny as I was last year.

I have pretty long legs. No I don't have pretty legs, I meant that my legs were kind of long. Which under normal circumstances would mean that I'd look slightly graceful, instead of looking like the clumsy goose I am today. Here are some things I have managed to do in this past week:
-trip 635247890 times
-Almost get knocked down by a car 3 times
- slip 5 times
-slip, trip, fall, sprawl an uncountable amount of times (I stoped counting. It got too depressing)

So all in all, I guess I don't look like the average 13 year old Singaporean girl.
I don't really dress like one either. But I guess I don't really know what average is. Average is so many things.
Does the fact I feel uncomfortable in shorts and flipflops mean I am weird?
Does the fact I have no problem getting into a dress mean I'm weird?
Weird is a weird word.

I wear mostly jeans everywhere, which is surprisingly not really average (most people just wear shorts. Singapore's climate can kill.) I also don't wear normal shirts much. I wear mostly a muddle of long t-shirts, skirts, dresses, dresses with jeans, long blouses with jeans etc.
Oh and when the occasion calls for it, many accessories.

That's it I guess. That's what you get from a first look. Isn't that weird? So much from one glance.

This is random and all, but you know the saying the eyes are the windows to your soul? I really believe that. I judge a person by his/her/it's eyes, mostly. Which is kinda odd, if you ask me. But no one does ask me, so this is where I put it. On my blog.

Self centered-ness is a crime! I should be posting about saving the environment, not agonising over how horrible I think I look!
But it's a superficial world out there.
And sometimes, just sometimes, we get superficial too.

With love,
Sarah Frances

I know one day you'll forget me. / 9:26 PM

Hey guys..so I've kind of been on blogger hiatus.. but some people (*virtual laser glares at Fayth and Jo An*) have persuaded me to come off hiatus.

SO I'm here again.

School's over..yipee..yay..hooray..whatever.

But I'd pay a gazillion dollars to have school for two more weeks like the primary school-ers. Maybe you think I've been out in the sun for too long or whatever. But I really, really don't want school to have ended.

It wouldn't be so bad if I knew I was going to see everybody again next year.
But the thing is, I won't.

Some people are transferring out to another school..some are being retained in Year 1... and one is migrating to Italy.

How could anyone voluntarily leave SOTA? I mean, we've been together for a year, and we've forged so many bonds. How could anyone leave?

Most upsetting thing is that most of these people are from theatre. My art form.
Do you know how gutwrenchingly, heartbreakingly painful watching them go on the last day is?
Do you know how hard it is to know that this is probably the last time you'll ever see these people ever ever again?

I mean they could be killed in a car crash while on a holiday to Cambodia or something and you wouldn't even know. (Not that I think that would happen or anything)

The theatre faculty is a FAMILY, for heaven's sake. Leaving's like leaving your family behind.
I mean I'm pretty sure leaving is probably not voluntarily.
But still, family.

And maybe leaving is hard too...you leave behind a part of yourself, everywhere.

Here's why I hate people leaving: no matter how hard you swear that you'll remember everything about that person...you won't. You never will.

Even if you a million photographs or videos and recordings...you will forget.

You forget what the brand of his bag is.
Then you forget the colour of her eyes.
The way she used to tilt her head.
His funny way of speaking.

Until..you forget the name..you forget her way of thinking.
And then you'll vaguely remember this girl with a bright smile.
And then you forget.
Forever.

This is why I hate goodbyes. You know that one day..he'll forget you..and scariest of all...you'll forget.

Memories fade..the specific details escape you.

What hurts most is when someone is wrenched away suddenly.
When you have no idea, and then you find yourself flat on your back.
And then you tell yourself....I should've..... Why didn't I.... We were so...

You'll regret not doing things...you'll regret not telling people things.

Here's an analogy of how people leaving feels like.

Imagine that you're a tree.
And imagine your roots are tangled up with another tree's roots.
And the tree is uprooted violently.
Your roots break at the intertwined part...so do some of the other tree's.
You are left with pieces of the other, while the other is left with pieces of you.
As time goes by, those pieces rot and fall away.
The end.

No one..nothing is ever permanent in this world.
But even if we are not remembered for it, we can still make a difference in it. I don't want to grow up and waste my life away and then die. I want to make an impact on the world.

I want to have, in some way, helped the world, not be this nameless person who contributes to pollution and then dies.

I want to help the world.

Here are extracts from two songs that I think that really aptly describe how I feel now.

"And suddenly I become a part of your past
I'm becoming the part that don't last
I'm losing you and it's effortless"

From Over My Head ( Cable Car ) by The Fray.

"You wanna show the world, but no one knows your name yet
Wonder when and where and how you're gonna make it
You know you can if you get the chance
In your face as the door keeps slamming
Now you're feeling more and more frustrated
And you're getting all kind of impatient waiting"

From One Step At a Time by Jordin Sparks.

Love,
Sarah Frances

P.S. Good luck in whatever you do even if I never see you again. Ever.
But we can keep in touch by email or something.
Just ask for it.

I don't believe in Romeos / 9:52 PM

Hello again!

Everyone's rejoicing now because the exams are over.
SO I'm gonna enjoy this time as much as I can until the results come out.

Anyway, this post has nothing to do with Romeo.
Well, maybe, if you can figure a way to connect it to my topic.

Today's blog post topic is about first impresions.
Because today, the new SOTA students came for a sort of orientation. I waited with Fayth, Viraj, Celeste and JoAn for the new theatre students.

An the first thing that hit me was: Whoah, they look interesting. And then: OMG there has to be what? 30 here? 40?

And then I realised that 4 of them were foreigners.
And the first thing I thought was like, bummer.
Because, call me rascist, whatever, but I was scared that this was going to become more and more foreign talent based.

And there was a particular girl who left a very bad impression, what with her constantly rolling her eyes at anyone who looked at ,and her garish make up.
And now people are going around bitching about her and telling people to be mean to her.

I have one question. now.
WHAT WARPED CRAZY MENTALITY IS THAT?!

I sounded mean, I'm sorry...but I don't like her as much as the next person, but seriously, getting the school to back you up in the mistreatment of someone you met for like 2 hours and have never talked to??
Man, I was disappointed when the message reached me...I thought we'd grown up enough already to realise that this is wrong. Apparently not, though.

Not that I think that the person who started this is bad and should be damned to hell for eternity or whatever. I just thhink that we have to realise that this is not going to solve anything an that as mean as she was to us, she deserves a fighting chance.
This post is also how much we judge on first impressions.

Like, OMG, that girl looks so quiet.
OMG, that guy looks so geeky.
etc etc etc.

Maybe I'm guilty of this too.
Judging quickly.
What makes us do that?
Form a mentality about something that we've seen like, once.

I think maybe it's a natural human reaction, but here's what I suggest you do when you know you're judging quickly.
Judge if you can't help it.
BUT.

Do NOT set your impression of the person/thing.
Don't cast it in stone.
Give it/her/he a chance to be able to change that impression.
Because you're guilty or judging someone unfairly and based on a poor first impression.

It's akin to looking at a Picasso and going, Ew, some 2nd grader drew that, and then walking away instead of taking the time to study the painting, to understand it before you pass any sort of permanent judgement.

That's my lesson of the day.
Ew, that sounded cheesy.

Anyway.
Bye
Love, Sarah

P.S I just realise how much I use the word 'like' like in all of my posts. Dang, like again.

I'm not a princess, and this is not my fairytale. / 5:58 PM

Hello. I'm feeling rather depressed. For some funny reason, it seems like there's no energy left in my body.





I know this is going to sound philosophical and weird, but stay with me for a moment, okay?



I am going to discuss something. (well, actually tell you about something, since I can't talk to you.)



Okay, so I'm going to discuss knowledge. Yeah, knowledge.

Brace yourselves, I'm feeling dead today. And when I feel dead, I tend to argue a lot.



This entire idea stemmed for a conversation between my mom and I a few nights back. We started off discussing the economy cris and then moved on the knowledge.

So I'm basically going to air my views here, because this is the only place I can think of.



Well, I mean I could call someone and tell them but they'd probably think I was psycho or something, or that I'd forgotten a sanity pill this morning



But I digress.



Ah. The economy crisis. Okay, do you want to know what I make out of the whole thing: Humans are effing stupid.



Do you know why?



This entire concept of supposed value is a system put in place by humans. Even dumber still is the way humans have assigned supposed values to things of no value, like, for example, a two dollar bill. The paper it's printed on's worth, what? 10 cents? This entire system has been imposed by humans, and also the way we assume something's more valuable than the other. Did anybody find a rock inscripted with the words: 'Diamonds are more precious than cow pats.' ?



No, no one's seen that. So, this entire value system has been made up by humans over trivial matters. You may say humans created the notion of what has a greater value based on its usefulness in daily life. But may I ask HOW a diamond is useful? I think the cow pat's more functional, really. You can actually make something of it, like say, fertiliser.

So why have humans implemented this ridiculous system? It's anyone's guess. I personally think it was out of greed. Humans created currency not as a way to have equal trade, but perhaps they created it with the idea that this was something else to be gained, something that could be counted.

And now we move on to why? Why are humans so filled with this unnecessary selfish greed? Here is my opinion: It is because of knowledge.

You see, humans only turn greedy because they have something to want. And these somethings are created by humans. And how did we create things? Through knowledge, We learnt how to. We learnt how to make A/C, we learned how to make things easier for us. Here is what my mum said, and I think it's so, so true:"Humans learn only for their benefit. Or else, what's the point?"

That's true. I mean, this is where this whole mess about environmental issues stemmed from as well, isn't it.

Humans learnt how to make thing easier for them--> Humans start getting greedy--> Humans start hurting the environment--> Humans realise this, but don't really care--> and then you come to us, today. The ones who have resigned ourseves to the fact we're alll gonna die anyway, so why care about the earth?

See? It is the power of knowledge. The saying 'knowledge is power' couldn't be truer.

So. Is knowledge evil? No.

It's what you do with the knowledge that makes it eveil or good. Or else, it's just that. Knowledge.

And here's what I think: God knew we were gonna screw up the world with knowledge, so he told Adam and Eve NOT NOT NOT to eat from the Tree of Knowledge. But they did. And we now come to our modern day, where we have screwed up the world with knowledge.

God was right in not wanting them to eat the fruit. He knew this would happen.

Contemplatively yours,

Sarah.

A few things you may or may not know about Sarah / 6:31 PM

A few things you may or may not know about Sarah.



1. She wouldn't be caught dead in a skirt or a dress.

2. She likes dresses and skirts.

3. She hates, hates sports.

4. She's actually good at some sports.

5. She is against any romance of any kind, because that's just gross.

6. She wants her happy ending, prince and all.

7. She is impulsive, volatile and ruled by emotion.

8. She is cool, calm and level-headed.

9. Sha hates when people get all cheena and when they say kawaii.

10. She doesn't mind when people act cheena...she thinks it's kinda cute.

11. She protests against harming the environment

12. She would die without the A/C in this climate.

13. She doesn't care what other people think about her.

14. She wants to have a clean, good, image.

15. She would rather be alone.

16. She'd die without human interaction.

17. She likes to be paid attention to.

18. She just wants to blend into the background.

19. She does not know who she is.

BUT

20. Her goal in life is to make a difference

Okay, so any questions? No? Okay, very good.



So I bet you're wondering something along the lines of, "OMG, does this girl have a personality disorder or what!?"

I can't honestly answer that, but I can assure you all of the above is true.

This is how:

Imagine a pile of Sarah-gloop. Yes, very good.
Now imagine a bunch of different shaped vases or containers.
Now pour Sarah-gloop into them.
Voila! Now Sarah is shaped like the container!

Okay, so now you think I'm not really sane. I'll elaborate.

All these vases/conatiners are like moulds from my friends. For example: If I am with a really cheena, twit-toking type friend, I behave like that too. I tell her,"Haizxz, no lah!", I type lyk dis.

And if it's a dress-hating, skater punk rock friend, I dress the way she does, no dresses, skirts, or flowers. When I am with her, I am totally against feminity.

Okay, maybe you're thinking, how is this possible?
But believe me, it's 100% possible. In fact, I've made a wonderful little career out of it.

And this would be perfectly fine, if not for the fact that the Sarah-gloop is so used to moulding herself to fit her friends, she had no shape whatsoever of her own.

So what does this Sarah-gloop do to keep herself from becoming a puddle on the floor? She just keeps switching vases depending on who she's with.

And now she realises she doesn't know what her shape is. And she can't get anywhere in someone else's borrowed form.
And so she resigns herself to the fact that the only way she'll make a difference in the world is in helping others get their happy endings.

The end.
Love, xoxoxo, from, sincerely, Sarah (whoever that really is.)

It's a cruel world, face up. / 10:05 PM

Hello.

Yes, I know I haven't posted in a while. It's like everytime I get on the computer I'm like, Hey, I have a good topic to blog about! And then I forget it. But I've decided I've procrastinated (Okay, JoAn, here's the definition: a verb meaning to put off; to delay until a later time) enough so I'm back on Blogger.



So anyway, my birthday was yesterday. It was a really anti-climatic event. Like months of build up (omg, 13!) and I get sick, don't have a party (not even a family gathering) and did I mention, GET SICK? I still am sick, actually. Anyway my mom made a cake and I self-decorated it. I'll post pictures when I find the time. Apparently, I'm good with icing.



So here's the fantastic, wonderful subject which convinced me to blog: Happy Endings.

Haha, no don't groan. Okay fine, groan. Because this blog post will end up in another argument.
I finished watching Camp Rock. I have to say it's better than High School Musical, but that's the highest compliment I can give.
Same cheesy boy-meets-girl, girl finally comes into the limelight, you-can-be-who-you-want-to-be,just-believe!!!
Uhhh-huuuh. Riiight.

Well, so anyway, I'm going to completely ruin my chances of ever being offered a Disney role by ridiculing happy endings.
Ready?
Go!
Happy endings don't ever happen in real life. Especialy not to people like me. People like me who just don't have the 'lookkeeee at moi!' aura. But who still want to make it. Like me. Do you know my part in it? I'm the first person to clap for the winners, the lucky ones. I'm the first one to tell them they deserve every bit. Am I jealous? YES. Extremely. Do I show it? No, because they're my friends. And that's just not what friends do.

The whole believing in yourself crap doesn't work either.
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can?
I'm sure.
This is why the Little Train that Could wouldn't survive in our real world.
He'd crash, die, be mocked.

I guess it's also a bit about what our happy endings mean for all of us. For me, it's what? Performing?Happiness? Publishing a bestseller? Fulfilling my lifelong dream? (of what??) Falling in love? Getting married?
I don't know.

Dreams don't come true. They come true for people who are lucky as all hell.

And some people are completely fine with being runners-up, the average class. The ones two steps away from the prize but looking the other way. And that's not me. I want my own magnificent fairytale happiness. Okay, so I'm dumb. But that's the truth. I do want to be happy and all that.

But it looks like I'm destined to live the life of the average who always tried too hard. They should write on my gravestone - Here lies Sarah, who was never really good enough.

I mean, I'm not satisfied to live my life like this, and yet I know I'll never make it anywhere. I'm those sad, pathetic never-gets-near-their-dreams type. That sucks.

There's nothing much I can do to change it can I? Unless I learn to tap dance, play the guitar and whistle showtunes all at the same time. Which I am not willing to do.

Margaret from Camp Rock was sort of like me, but YAYness of all YAYS! She got found! Now she's famous yadda yada yeah yeah.
Disney should make a movie about the girl who never got anywhere. That'd be kind of depressing, but they should be truthful to little girls who really want their happy endings. Might as well smack them in the face and say: DREAMS DON'T COME TRUE! and while you're at it, tell them Santa Claus is dead.
But it's true.
It's cruel, but true.
Ow. Truth stings.
Owowowow. Painfully.

xoxox
Sarah
(the one no one knows)

Whoops. / 9:50 PM

This is feels odd, posting two days in a row. I'm not normally that consistent.
Anyhoo.
I am here to tell you how I swore mutiple times in front of my vice principal.
So yes, there is finally going to be a post that does not include arguing a subject to death!

So.

Today is Tuesday.
I hate Tuesdays.
Things go wrong on Tuesdays.
ALWAYS.

Shall give you the timeline of events.

10:45 am, after break: Mrs Crathers (the permanent substitute) comes in to conduct class.
11:15-ish: We discuss ideas for our play.
11:40-ish: We do tableaux. (Still image theatre)
12:10: Mrs Crathers asks who's in charge. I sloooowly put up my hand. She gives me instructions that I should write down but I unfortunately can't, having no pen or paper.
12:15: Mrs Crathers dashes out the door with the vice-pricipal, who I THOUGHT was leaving too.
12:15 still: Am attempting to somewhat figure out what I'm supposed to do.
12:20: Getting frustrated because we can't reach a decision to do the peformance. Decide to move on to casting.
12:20: People are not listening. I voice-project. (Who am I kidding? I was screaming)
12:30: Finish casting for protagonist. Try to get people's attention by jumping up and down, waving my arms in the air and yelling,"HELLO!?!??!" Does not work. I voice project again.
12:40: Still have not sorted out roles properly. Looks at clock and says SHIT! very loudly. Realise I am theatre rep and have sworn in front of fellow classmates. Say,"Whoops. I just said shit."
12:45: Realise class is supposed to end now. Am thoroughly frustrated and angry. Cry,"DAMMIT!", which is followed by, "I'm supposed to let you off but we haven't done the casting!!!! SHIT." General intake of breath. Am so angry, cry,"I'm not a teacher so I can say shit. SHIT!"
12:50: Manage to somewhat sort out the roles. Releases class. On the way out, am met by two people quarrelling. "I should be the shopkeeper! You can be the assistant!" "NO, I want to be the shopkeeper! You be the assistant" etc. etc. Repeat until thoroughly annoying. Am approached by two who ask,"He should be the assistant, right?" Want to scream and thus yell in their faces, " I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!!"
1:00: Am met by theatre friends who ask," The vice-principal was in there! Did you see?" Turn a funny shade of white. Bangs head hard on metal pillar. Am saved by friends who tell me the Vice-Principal does not hate me.

Add a couple more, "DAMMIT, Will everyone just LISTEN for a while?"s and you get basically what happened today.
THE END.

To be honest, I'm not sure if I find this amusing, cool, or downright embarassing. Add the fact that I'm related to the principal and the fact that the vice-principal may tell the principal that I knew how to speak French well, and you have a disasterously horrible theatre lesson.

Man, I have to hand it to the teachers How do they manage to not scream everytime we don't shut up?

On a completely random note, tomorrow's SWAT at Kimberly's church. The theme's something about The Big Show. So either I'm going to be a random celebrity or an overbearing manager to Kimberly's celebrity.

Tell my why I don't like Tuesdays? (There's a song called Tell me why I don't like mondays about a shooting)

Love,
Sarah
xoxoxo

Illusions. / 9:25 PM

Hey,
I am back from school. As I am every weekday. And I am also extremely tired. Which I also am every weekday. And I also happen to have a whole pile of homework due by tomorrow which I just so happen to have not done. So why exactly am I blogging now? I have no idea.

Okay, right now I am really tempted to go: OMG OMG OMG OMG One of my favourite authors tagged my blog! TAGGED MY BLOG!

BUT.
I'll try to raise my thoughts to higher planes. Because authors are just like us. Except maybe not so unknown. Like us. Anyway, while I was debating whether or not to scream, I started to wonder why I wanted to scream in the first place.

I mean, authors are normal human beings, heck, Britney Spears is a normal human being. They all have a family, they all have to eat, they can't fly yadda yadda yeah.

So why this almost crazy hero worship thing? I mean what makes the 'OMGOMG' factor?
I realise I am not just talking about authors but famous people in general.

What makes someone dye their hair purple and style it a way that makes porcupines proud? Just because their favourite celebrity's doing it?
Do fans push and shove their way through barriers to touch their favourite celebrity because they think the famous-ness will rub off on them?
Or maybe it's more of a 'Wow, I TOUCHED something that's BEEN ON TV!'

Well whatever the reason, I'm sure celebrities are happy about it. No fan base = zero sales.

I mean I can relate to admiring someone for their work, like the way I admire C. Leigh Purtill, Meg Cabot, Jodi Picoult, Stephenie Meyer, Sarah Dessen etc. But worshipping? Really, worshipping? That's quite a far stretch. I just don't understand why people do that. I mean, why throw yourselves through a crowd where people just keep stepping on your toes and where you get random elbows shoved at you? Just so you see Christina Aguilera 3D?

I really don't get why. If anyone has a theory on this, feel free to tell me. In fact, I'd greatly appreciate someone explaining this funny human genetic quirk to me.

Anyway, in theatre, we had a substitute, Mrs. Crathers. Like brothers, but with a C. I'm not going to write about the lesson, but I will write about something she told us. She does drama therapy with mental patients and she told us about the story of this man who had an imaginary wife. He talks to her and loves her and everything. But he's on medication and the medication just makes his wife disappear. I think that's extremely sad, you know? I think he'd be happier without his medication. Yes, so after my homework, I'm going to write about that. A short monologue would be very interesting.

You know, I keep saying I'll post my writing here, but I never do.
Oh well.

With Love,
Sarah.
xoxoxo

/ 10:05 PM

These are the lyrics to Change by Sugababes, the first song that's playing on my blog now.
They mean a lot to me now.

If I could hold you close
Like you were never gone
If I could hear your voice
You'd tell me to be strong
But sometimesI just can't
I just don't understand
Why you had to go
Why you had to go
I guess I'll never know
Ain't it funny how you think
You're gonna be OK
Till you remember things ain't never
Gonna be the same again
The same again
Ain't it crazy how you think
You've got your whole life planned
Just to find that it was never ever
In your hand
In your hand
Change
If I could get to you
I'd be there in a minute
My world don't make no sense
Not without you in it
And sometimes
I just find
Can't say I
Don't know why
Why'd you have to go?
Why'd you have to go?
And leave me here alone
And leave me here alone
Ain't it funny how you think
You're gonna be OK
Till you remember things ain't never
Gonna be the same again
The same again
Ain't it crazy how you think
You've got your whole life planned
Just to find that it was never ever
In your handIn your hand
Change
You don't see it coming
Change
When the future comes knocking
It changed
It can make you or break you too
You'd just have to make it through(You'd just have to make it through)
Ain't it funny how you think
You're gonna be OK
Till you remember things ain't never
Gonna be the same again
The same again
Ain't it crazy how you think
You've got your whole life planned
Just to find that it was never ever
In your hand
In your hand
Change
Change, change
Change, change.

Mr G. / 7:30 PM

Hey, I know I haven't posted in a while; I'm sorry.

We recently had a cancer scare, well, my mum, actually. You know how she finished her chemotherapy for her cancer? Yeah so she went for a scan and one of her lymph nodes were enlarged and we were all afraid the cancer had spread. But it turned out it wasn't, so that's a huge sigh of relief.

Something else did happen though, although I will not say what it is, I will discuss my feelings.
Well. What can you say? Grief's a hard thing (Ha. I spent an entire hour in hysterics and then continued randomly bursting into tears.)

Well, yeah. But then I got home and I talked to God, and he proved to me that he is real. I was in the bathroom, sitting on the floor and crying, when I decided I probably couldn't continue this way, so I started to talk to God. At first, I wanted Him to tell *omitted* that everyone was really sad, but we'd move on. I wanted to tell him that we were all thankful for whatever time we'd spent with *omitted*. So it started out that way, then I felt like I really needed to PRAY, you know?

I was born into a Christian family, knew how to pray, stuff like that, but I think I basically banned God from my life the time when I needed Him most, which is when my mum got cancer. I knew all the right things to say, but my soul wasn't there, at all. I prayed but it was meaningless.

So this time, I really prayed. Really prayed.
And I confessed everything to Him, all my sins, and He sent down a message to me, in the form of Luyi's book, Rachel's tears, about the story about the first person to be killd at the Columbine High School shootings. Rachel predicted her death and kept saying this would be her last year. She also drew eyes crying 13 tears over a columbine flower. 13 people were shot at Columbine. In her diary, she wrote that she knew this life was only temporarily.

And that's what hit me, hard. This life isn't permanent. It's so short, and we're really gonna spend most of our time in heaven anyway. Heaven's the real 'life'. This is just like a dream. A transition, you know?

So, Ryan, if you're reading this, God exists, and that's why I was so happy you're embracing the christianism.

Yeah, so I basically pledged my life to God. God can use me anyway he wants to spread his gospel and his word to people. God is the saviour, and he exists. I offered my life to him so that he may do something with it, so that I may be a saviour to others.

I'm not even sad anymore, because *omitted*'s in heaven now, and the things that really mattered, he'll be able to see again. I'm just sad we never got to say a proper thank-you and goodbye.
And then, I got this feeling that God was there, and it made me so happy I started crying again.

I love God.
xoxo
God's faithful servant,
Sarah Frances

Open up a new world. Close the world. It never happened. / 8:27 PM

Hey,
After reading my last post I realised it basically radiating I-give-up vibes and I guess that was how I was feeling, but I don't want the I-give-up part to last. So I still think the chances of something great and wonderful suddenly happening to me is uh, none. But I can still hope right? And maybe my world won't collapse if I stop wishing.

But I digress. The point of this post was to talk about books. And me. Gosh, blogs are so self-centered. I try hard not to, but I guess a blog is to let others know about you. I also figured out the difference between my blog and blogs where people basically do the : I lurvvs ew honaaay! Gym buddy! thingy. My blog isn't for just my friends, it's for anybody who'd ever actually care to read it. Those blogs I find annoying are for their friends to read. That's why I don't understand them. My blog's for everyone...and me, I guess.

I seriously have to stop with the digressing bit. Anyway.
Back to books.

The thing I find so amazing about books is that you can just open up this book, learn about a whole new world, close the book, the end, just like that. And just like that, the story comes to an end. The character's life doesn't end there, of course, but for us it does. Not that we die, but that the character has just..stopped in our heads. This is a really weird comparison, but it's like when you take a cab. Open door, get in, get out.
You weren't a part of this particular world, then you became a part of it, then you simply stop being a part of it. The end.

And we can walk away thinking, oh, what a nice book.
I'm going to say this in the absract, but books are tailored to us. In our minds, books are for us. Subconciously, we always think that. Even though we sympathise with characters, share their joy, their pain, at the back of the mind, we think: this is just a book. No matter how well the author wirites the book, it's just a book. it didn't happen to me. But what if it did?

What if someone wrote a story about what happened to you? Is it real now? I mean there is almost always a possibility that what happened it the books may happen to you too someday, but would you really consider it real life? The answer is no. No, even if the exact same thing happened, you'd still think: oh, it's just a book. Someone else's life. Someone else's problem.
It's just fake. A book. A book. A book.

The chances are that what ever's been written about has happened to someone else, It's real for that person.

So now you wonder where the hell I'm going with this funny one-sided argument thing.

I'm hitting at the fact that books probably aren't fiction. They've probably happened to people across the world, like maybe in Cuba or somewhere. You never know, really.

So can we really safely say: 'It's just a book' anymore?

I've just finished reading 19 minutes by Jodi Picoult and it's about a high school shooting. As I was reading the book, I was thinking of the Colombine shootings. The emotions the mother of the shooter felt. Those feelings I am willing to bet, are pretty close to what the mothers of the two shooters felt, maybe are feeling now.

I can't fly. / 9:13 PM

For the past week or so, the central question that's been turning somersaults and doing straddle-jumps in my head is about my future.
You see, everywhere I turn I see people living average, normal lives. Like those aunties at the market. They are perfectly content to be buying chye sim on a bright Saturday morning. Or even my mum. She's happy here in Singapore raising two kids and living in a HDB flat.
The stupid thing is, I'm not. I'm not willing to stay here, grow up, be an average person and have about zero impact on the world.
I want to be someone. An author, a singer, an actress, whatever.
Last time, I used to think these childish dreams were possible.
But I think I've grown up. The chances of these things happening to me are zilch, nada, zip, none.
Maybe everyone started with these ambitions, to make a difference, but grew up and saw that these things were impossible. Maybe that uncle down the street wanted to be a minister, or a model. And then they grew up.
If that's true, I don't want to grow up. I'm not ready to give up those dreams yet. I still want to believe in true love, I still want to believe in happy-ever-afters. But it's getting harder and harder to.
I think there's still this eensy weensy bit inside of me who still believes dreams still can come true, and who wants her dreams to come true. And that bit is slowly dying.
And I think I also finally understood why I wanted to go to America so bad, why I wanted to live there.
I had this funny feeling people in America would understand me better in America. Because when I read books by American authors, they capture what I think a hundred percent. And because people in the book seem a whole lot deeper than people in Singapore.
I mean I could pour out my heart and soul into this blog and most people here would be like, eh? This girl's a bit odd. No actually, they'd think: This girl a bit xiao, ah.
And that would be it.
A whole soul searching, deep blog and they get that I'm a bit odd!
In America you see things like this all the time. They understand. Or so I hope they do. But if they don't who ever will?
The second reason why I had an obsession with America's because of the way characters always got their happy endings at the end of books. No matter what it was. They got it. And since I'm just not getting mine in Singapore, I just sub-consciously assumed that life in America is brighter and shinier than here.
But I'm just deluding myself. Everywhere is like here. Which brings me to the conclusion: There is nowhere to go. And no dreams to achieve.
There you go, that final missing bit that'll turn me into an auntie before your very eyes.
Ouch.
I feel like someone just pulled the carpet from under me, hard. No, screw that.
I feel like someone just pulled a flying carpet from under me. So now not only am I ambition-less, I can't even fly anymore. More like, I could never fly, period. Just a stupid trick my mind decided to play on me.
Maybe my blog posts are gonna turn into things like everyone else's.
Maybe the next blog post will go something like:
2dae played rugby.
damn slippy siah,
*insert name here* eu areeeeee my icecream frenzzzz.
we be icecream budddaes!
muacks, sarah.

Blog posts like that annoy me.
I just had another epiphany: I still have those stupid dreams, or just one stupid dream actually. And it's that someone would read my blog. Someone who would understand.
It's still just a stupid dream.

When I grow up, I want to be a housewife, work part time as a cleaner in OCBC.

-sarah.

Let's just call him Bob. / 8:20 PM

Why won't you leave me alone?
Everywhere I turn, you're always there.
Can't you take a hint?
I don't want you around.

You sit down at my table,
Act like you're my friend.
Even though we both know.
You're far, far from that.

You trail me when I go somewhere
Pretend that it's natural.
Even though we both know,
It's because there's no one else.

I'm sorry you have no friends.
I'm sorry you're alone.
I'm sorry that you're reduced to this.
I'm sorry you have to pretend.

But here's the truth,
You deserve that at most.
It's time to set the record straight.
And bring things to a close.

You like me, or so you think.
but I find you annoying.
I'm nice to you just because
I don't want to be mean.

I wish I had the courage
To tell you to your face.
But still I'm bound by my morals,
To never be so mean.

So there's the truth
That you'll probably never see.
The thing is that you like me,
but to me you're not far from enemy.

Feeling better. / 10:05 PM

Hello. I'm back! Yes, yes, I'm not in such a bad mood as my last post.
I'm actually quite ashamed of my last post. Tsk tsk Sarah! Self-pity is not a solution!
I very nearly deleted the last post on hindsight - it made me seem like some immature 4 year old. Which is not the ideal image I want to be portrayed as. But I didn't want to, mainly because I swore I was going to be completely honest and completely honest means not deleting posts.
So it's still there. It'll probably remain there until I decide to spring clean my blog (read: when I get bored enough)
Let's do an update!
So, Arts Fest is Over. With a capital O. I'm not sure if I'm happy or sad.
It was a huge success, save for that EENSY WEENSY misstep on my part.

Oh well. Thank you guys so much for all that encouragement and all that support after my little freak-out, hysterical episode. You guys really helped to comfort me.

I got messages from Viraj, Fayth, Gwen and Anjali. Viraj, Gwen and Anjali - carivorous bunny-less. Fayth- carnivorous bunny galore.
See, I was really scared to go to school today because I was scared I was going to get teased or picked on. So Fayth said she'd get me a carnivorous bunny. I thought she was kidding, butno, sh brought something wrapped up in red paper t school. I unwrapped and saw my first carnivorous bunny. It's kinda small, but do not underestimate it. I'l take a picture of it when I'm free and post it here, okay? Actually, when I get around t posting pictures here, you guys will get a whole flood of images. really.
So anyway I'm thinking of changing my blogskin again.


xoxo
Sarah =)

Arts fest. And how much I hate me. / 9:53 PM

Guess.
No, really, guess.

Can you tell I'm in a pity party mode?
It involved running from my Animal Farm performance and then having hysterics in the toilet.
I made a pact to be completely truthful on this blog and here's the truth: I WRECKED THE PLAY!!!!!

Yes, I did.
gaaaaahhh.
This is a pretty random post. No, actually it's not.
I think someone's rubbing their hands together gleefully and saying,"Let's see, how can we torture Sarah today?" Cause it really feels like it.

Plague her with pimples and facial hair. *check*
Give mum and brother cancer *check*
Give Dad scary intestinal problem *check*
Give maternal grandmother a tumour *check*
Give paternal grandmother eye problems and hip problems *check*
Give paternal grandfather a stroke * check*

Oh WON-DER-FUL.

Let's just add the most embarassing thing ever to happen in front of a live audience.

*kapow*
A miserable girl.

I'm in a full, all out pity party today.
BLAH.
I hate feelig like this.
My parents ( well, my mum) brought my brother and me out for a 'celebratory day out'. More like a 'poor Sarah, let's bring her out and make her feel better' GAH.
We ate suhi and went to the library.
AND the optician gave me the supercalifragilisticexpellidocious news that my degree has increased to 350. Oh the JOY.
I bought a Jodi Picoult book, caloled The Pact, about a suicide pact.

I'll go wallow in self pity now.

Sarah.

The Ideal Environment / 9:56 AM

Yes, I know this is really random, but I'm hanging around my house waiting for 10:15 to come so I can go to school. So I decided to describe my ideal place. =)

Let's start with my favourite things to do...
Hmm, let's see, ideal environment for reading: On a wooden deckchair on a porch that looks out into a field or forest, one beautiful summer's day. With ice-cold lemonade, and my dog next to me. AND NO DISTRACTIONS. I get pretty angry when pwople disturb me when I'm reading. When I'm reading a current book, I get so posessive of it that people aren't even allowed to touch it. Even worse is when someone's reading over my shoulder.

Ideal environment for writing: On the same porch in that same chair with my music on. AND THE LEMONADE. ( can you tell I'm sorta thirsty right now?) I can't write properly without music. I need piano ballad songs, or acoustic songs when I write, mostly. It's odd, but I think rockers playing riffs and some guy bashing a poor set of drums out is not a very good environment for writing. Okay, it may be for some people, but definitely not for me.
Rachel Yamagata, Chantal Kreviazuk, some Avril Lavigne, Vanessa Carlton, Michelle Branch...yeah, those sort of songs.

Ideal Environment for scrap booking: On a marble floor(no carpeted floors, I'd kill them with the glue and glitter) with music. Any kind. And a glass of lemonade. Oh, and all the necessary supllies, like buying out the whole of Art Friend and Spotlight =)

Ideal environment for sleeping: On a huge canopy bed, with white sheets and huge fluffy pillows. With air-conditioning. Unless I'm in America. Then: heaters!

Moving on to not-so-pleasant things: Studying.
A desk with absolutely no distractions (I ge distracted too easily) and I'd be studying English although I really should be studying my Math. But I much prefer English. Which is basically the reason I'm flunking my math. hmm.

Ummm.... can't think of anything important enough...oh!

Ideal place to be with friends: at someone's home =) or watching a movie (preferrably Twilight)

Ideal place to be playing guitar/singing: On that wonderful porch. Or in the forest, where no one can hear me. =)

I can draw two conclusions from this: I am thirsty and : I NEED THAT PORCH! AND THAT FOREST!
Yeah okay, I'll go now. =)

With love,
Sarah.

The point of relationships. / 10:28 PM

Well.
As you can probably tell, I'm feeling philosophical today. Actually not so much philosophical as argumentative. Or actually, I think it's contemplative.

Don't laugh or anything but I've decided to make this post about commitment in a relationship. No seriously, if you laugh, I will kill you at midnight with my ebony tresses.
I'm feeling seriously whacko today. I spent ten minutes before our math test ( whiiiich I screwed, surprise, surprise.) scaring Fayth and laughing like a psychotic killer just before he kills.

I swear if Fayth'd moved any further away from me, she'd be right through the wall of classroom. Which wouldn't be good, considering that our classroom's on the fourth storey and she's sitting next to the window. Yeah, fallbangsplatow.

Anyway. Back to my topic. I just realised something today. I mean everyone knows that there are a lot of romantic relationships happening in my school. But tell them that so-and-so is their boyfriend/girlfriend and they will SHOOT you.

And then, trying to save your life, you say: "But you hold hands and everything!"
Which probably isn't be smart. And they will probably shoot you anyways.
So really, what is it about this label "Boyfriend/girlfriend" that every one's so opposed to. I mean, that is essentially what you are, right?

Personally, I think it's because it's the lack of freedom that comes with that title, like say "Yesterday I saw you with ____ instead of ____. But I thought he was your boyfriend!"
I mean, if you don't publicly declare that you are officially dating, then you can say," He's not my boyfriend what. I have my freedom and a life too, okay?". But if you do declare you're dating, what are you supposed to say then? "Oh..uh..uh...weeeell....technically...uh. welljustdon'ttellhimokay?bye."? Somehow that doesn't seem very smart to me. And anyway, isn't this the same thing that happens in marriage too? When people get cold feet, I'm pretty sure it isn't because they're scared of the wedding dress. It's because marriage is so final, and they probably only want only one marriage, and they probably don't want multiple divorces.

So is that really it? Are the people really just scared to call themselves a couple because they're scared of the repercussions if anyone of them is seen with someone else? Or is it something else?
I don't think I'll actually find out anytime soon, since I have no plans to start dating in the near future.
Dating at my age is just so stupid. It's like, "I like you, you like me, we go out to macs okay?".
They're not serious about each other and they're not old enough to judge what is serious and what's not.
I mean, I don't even trust myself enough to start dating at this age. Come on, why is everyone so eager to grow up? If I could I'd stay a child. Life's so much easier. Who wants to complicate their lives with relationships at this young age? I'm quite fine with being friends with guys. Anyway, I'm a firm believer of being friends with a guy way before you even consider going out with him.

This post seems rushed somehow.
Anyway, to all those jerks/dipwads out there who think my blog posts are odd, I'm sorry, but GO AWAY. My blog's for me to express myself and if I feel like expressing myself through topics, then so be it.

oh, P.S, I'm getting Breaking Dawn tomorrow! Which means I will probably not post. I'll be too busy reading.
P.P.S. I have a chinese letter writing test tomorrow. Wish me luck. The last time I wrote a letter for an assignment I got a wonderful mark of 9/20.
Okay, I have to go now.

xoxoxo
Sarah.

Arts Fest. And other assorted nonsensical ramblings. / 11:49 AM

Hey, you.

Yes, you.

Are you coming for the Arts Fest?

Oh? You're performing?

Funny, so am I.

What are you doing?

I'm in the theatre faculty.

We're doing Animal Farm.

I'm Squealer.

The tickets are all booked out.

A full house on every night.

I'm scared.

Don't watch me, okay?

Give away your ticket or something.

Or just don't come.



I'm sorry, that's the ramblings part of my post.

Now for the rest in prose.

Yes, Animal Farm is sold out. ALL FOUR PERFORMANCES. ALL. I'm so freaked out, I feel like burying my face into my dog's fur and then never emerging. Why oh why does Squealer have to talk so much? Why can't he be one of the ensemble cast and have one line like," Oink." or something? Why does he talk so much?!

As you can see, I'm losing it.

Not that having a math test on Monday and then a Chinese test on Tuesday helps. Blaaaaahh.

I'm seriously going crazy. Today I woke up singing Journey to the Past from Anastasia the movie.

And we have touch rugby this term. Like I need a busted ankle to crawl on in theatre. Since I routinely pull my thigh muscles after running even though I stretch so much, picking up boxes is alos probably not the best thing to do. But what choise do I have? Got to grin and bear it.

Oh dear, I now have a mental image of myself as the Joker with that grin on his face. I went to watch the Dark Knight and it was seriously the awesomest movie I've seen Heath Ledger in. Sad thing was that he died. Well, that movie was seriously creepy. And deep. Oh gosh, who would've thought that a comic book character could hold so much meaning? and Heath Ledger was good. So creepily good.

But I digress.

Back to the touch rugby. I guess it's good we're playing touch rugby and not rugby. Think about it: squishbangstompOW. Very dangerous. Not to mention extremely painful. Not that touch rugby isn't violent. But the worse thing that could happen is that you'd get hit over the head by the ball. Or get squished by some over-eager runner trying to get a touchdown. No tackles. No scrum.

Let me sum up my life in one grammatically-incorrect sentence (or word, really, depends on how you see it): homeworkmathchineseintegratedhumanitiesandsocialsciencesliteraturesciencetheatreanimalfarmrugbystress.

Actually, I think it's a word. Oh who cares.

And I have to do Welcome to My Playground too, which basically, I have to write a bunch of poems and short stories as a reaction to Bela Bartok's pieces for and then let someone else read them, because I'll be doing Animal Farm at the same time.

Oh wonderful.



Take a deep breath.

Swallow your fears

Face your problems.



Words

Easier said than done.

I can't breathe.

I can't swallow.

I can't face them.

They're too big.

They're everywhere.

And they're closing in on me
Tighter, tighter.
Closer, closer.
Claustrophobia kicks in.

With love,
Sarah

Psychic bobbleheads are scaring me. / 6:49 PM

Yes. I know my title is weird.
But the oddest thing happened to me.
You know how in the middle of my dreams I get a flash of a picture and within the next month or so the picture happens? Okay, you probably didn't, but now you do. It's funny, really.
So the following happens before class:
Me: *bouncing on chair because Fayth said it was fun* Hey, you're right this is kinda OHHHH!!!!
Fayth: *confused* Huh?
Me: OHHHHH
Fayth: Sarah don't die! (or something to that effect)
Me: Sorry...I was wondering why the picture in my dream was bouncing. *laughs* You know what? In my dream I dreamt there was a temple out there.
Fayth: *big wide eyes* There is a temple out there...
Me: What colour is it????
Fayth: Well, umm yellow?
Me: Don't say there's red in it!
Fayth: There is.
Me: *faints* *dies* (something like that)
SOOO.
I'm Fayth's bobblehead. The type that you shake and their head goes up and down, and I'm not psychic. TAH DAH. Title explained.
Still quite freaked out my it.
Oh well.
Buh bye.

xoxo
Sarah.

Odd quiz, Take A Bow / 9:34 PM

Don't shoot me! It is NOT my fault my blog is (was, since I'm reviving it, hopefully) dead.
School's been busy. Really busy.
Theatre's been stressful. Really stressful.

Oh well, at least we've painted the things for the Animal Farm set. Whichis, you know, good. Sort of. As a result of that painting incident, I got paint in my hair. And on my legs. And arms. And feet. And clothes. And face, thanks to Krish who splashed the palette at me with purple wall paint. WALL PAINT.
Even though we did that last Saturday, I swear I still have red paint somewhere in my hair. Seriously, how long does it take for it to COME OFF?
Aaaannyyyywaaaayy, I found this quiz on Nikki's blog. It's so cool. My anawers are even cooler. hahaha.

RULES:1. Put Your iTunes/Windows Media Player/ETC on Shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS.
4. Put any comments in brackets after the song name.
5. Put this on your journal.


1. If someone says, “Is this okay?” You say? Supergirl. Uh, okay....
2.How would you describe yourself? Don't Let Me Get Me. Okay, I know I don't like myself, but that's freakily accurate.
3.What do you like in a girl/guy? A Love That Will Last. HAHAH. This is true. Heartbreak sucks.
4.How do you feel today? Lucky. Hmm...I suppose you could say that.
5.What is your life’s purpose? Because You Live. That is scary...Because you live's lyrics go: Because you live and breathe, because you made me believe in myself when nobody else could help, because you live, my world, has twice as many stars in the sky. Because you live. I live.
6.What is your motto? Let It Be. AAARRRGGHH. Why is everything blardy FITTING?
.7. What do your friends think of you? Be Be Your Love. Uh..I don't think that's true.. Seeing as most of my friends are STRAIGHT girls.
8. What do you think of your parents? Hey Mama. ARGHH OMGEEE. Why is it ALL MAKING SENSE?
9.What do you think about very often? Part of Your World. Uhh, I think of being part of someone's life?
10.What is 2 + 2? Kiss Me. Uh. Sure.
11.What do you think of your best friend? No One . HEY! that is NOT true!
12.What do you think of the person you like? 4ever. Aww, so sweet =)
13.What is your life story? Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Hmm.
14.What do you want to be when you grow up? Everybody's Fool. Uh, no thank you.
15.What do you think of when you see the person you like? Here Comes The Sun. HAHA. I like this quiz.
16.What will you dance to at your wedding? Love Song. Scary scary scary quiz.
17.What will they play at your funeral? Reaching for Heaven. SCARY SCARY SCARY quiz.
18.What is your hobby/interest? Dance Dance. Not really, I like to dance though.
19.What is your biggest fear? Candyman. Oh right sure. "ARGH! The bigbad Candyman's coming to get me!!" I am so sure.
20.What is your biggest secret? Black Roses Red. UH. I have a superposwer? to turn black roses red?
21.What do you think of your friends? Family Portrait. huh? Family portrait is a song about divorce.
22.What will you post this as? Take A Bow. Don't ask.

/ 6:50 PM

Helloo. Decided to do one of those personality memes thingies. I got it from Bzoink. I'm not sure how this will help in self-realization, or anything.

Be 4'1 or 7'9"?
4'1, because I don't mind being small...I mind being too tall, you'd be like the person whose head sticks up waaaay above the rest. Which would make you all the more noticeable.
Live without music or live without T.V.?
I can't live without music, so no T.V.'s less cruel.
Lose your legs or lose your arms?
Lose my legs, because then I wouldn't have to run! Haha, no I'm kidding. I'd still rather lose my legs because you're very dependent on you arms for flipping the pages of a book, writing and playing the guitar. All things I will die without.
Have a beautiful house and ugly car or an ugly house and beautiful car?
A beautiful house! I don't really plan on driving a lot, anyway...I'm a road hazard. My car would be ugly anyway because I'm sure the law will make me put a sign that says "Slow down when approaching, unstable vehicle (and driver)" on the back of anything I drive.
Be blind or deaf?
Umm...be deaf. As much as I love music, I love reading more. And plus, I'm so directionally challenged, I'd keep walking into the same wall repeatedly.
Live in Antarctica or Death Valley?
Antartica. The Death Valley just creeps me out, and plus I'm good at handling extreme cold.
In a fire, save a sibling or a stranger?
There's no difference to me. A life is a life. To be selfish, it's more of a mesure of which will impact you the most, like you'd feel hell of a lot worse if you'd let your sibling die, but it's selfish, because the stranger's family will hurt more.
Find true love or 1 million dollars?
Find true love, definitely. Money can't buy happiness.
Always have to say everything on your mind or never speak again?
Always have to say whatever I think. I almost always do that anyway.Almost. But there are a lot of secrets...Hmmm...
Be gossipped about or never talked about at all?
Never be talked about at all...Not being known is better than having spiteful stuff spread about you.
Publish your diary or make a movie on your most embarrassing moment?
Make a movie on my most embarassing moment, definitely. My diary has ALL my embarassing moments AND secrets. No way. Nuh-uh.
Be stranded on an island alone or with someone you hate?
With someone I hate. I need human interaction or else I'll go crazy.
Forget who you were or who everyone else was?
Forget who I am, because I'd still have people to trust and they'd help me remember me.
Give up your computer or your pet?
THE COMPUTER. Give up COFFEE? Are you crazy?
Be the sand castle or the wave?
The wave crashes down on the sancastle, and it's forgotten forever. The wave.
Run the mile or give a speech for English?
I like English. And public speaking(well, sort of)
Be an actress/actor in a big movie or the director?
Actress.
Write a mystery or a poem?
Mystery. I do that anyway.
Be forgotten or hatefully remembered?
Forgotten. No way do I want to be known as the bitch.

My personal shooting star. / 2:41 PM

Hey!
I'm in a much better mood than my last post, so now I can apologise for not updating sooner. But then again, I could write my biggest secrets on my blog and no one would realise because no one reads the posts anyway.
So anyway,now I'm going to write about my personal shooting star: COFFEE the Silky Terrier cross something-or-other.
But before I start, I'll write an update about what's been happening. Arts Fest for SOTA is in 6 weeks and everyone's in a mad frenzy trying to sort things out. And guess which faculty has done the least so far? Yes, the Theatre Faculty. I'm not blaming anyone, we just need to get things sorted out. Immediately.
Okay, okay, moving on to my beloved dog.
Coffee was born on the 22nd of November, 2006 at a pet shop. He was bought by some girl who neglected to mention to her parents that she was getting a dog. Hre parents made the dog stay outside. This continued for a few months. One day, the rehomer (person who helps to get dogs adopted) spotted Coffee outside and wanted to take Coffee away. She spoke with the girl's maid and the maid revealed the girl had had hamsters, but were all dead due to the fact that the girl always forgot to feed them. Rehomer got very worried. Spoke with girl and persuaded her to give the dog up. Dog, then 7 months old, stayed at Mutts and Mittens (an adoption centre) for a while. Adoption notices were posted on websites, and My mum and I decided to adopt him. Ta-daaa! He's now 1 year and 7 months old, I think.

I love my dog.
Peace.
Sarah.

Only human. That's just stupid. / 6:25 PM

Hello. I am very very angry today. Well, now.
I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood to apologise for not posting regularly.
BECAUSE.
Humans suck.
We are the worst, pondscum, dirt of the earth. I'm really mad.
Here are my reasons :

1. Humans are destroying our environment
2. Genetic Modification.
3. Animal cruelty
4.Wars

These are the main reasons, so far. But there are so many more.
I'll start with the first one.
Humans.
We know we're destroying the earth with all these cars and pollution and deforestation and stuff.
Do you want to know the reasons behind this?
Because it makes tings more comfortable for us. So we get more food. we.we.we.we.we.we.we.we. You get the idea. And so what is getting the brunt of all our actions? Our environment. The animals around us. The world. If you think about it, humans are basically screwing up the world.
And, as an added plus, you wanna know what? Most of us can't be bothered. Sure, we're trying now. NOW. Now is sliiightly too late. JUST SLIGHTLY TOO LATE.
I'm pissed off at humans. This includes me. Gah. Humans suck.

Before I get any more worked up, I'll continue to point number two.
Genetic Modification.

I don't know. I don't know why humans want so much power. we're manipulating the environment, so that it suits our needs.
Sure, you say the if we gentically modify animals to carry human organs, we'll be saving lives. Human lives. Human lives that are taken naturally, most of the time, like from liver failure or a heart attack. So, let's look at what happens if we transplant the organ. Oh, whoops, guess what?! The animal dies. UN-naturally. If the human life was meant to be taken naturally, than why are we even trying to fight nature at the cost of another innocent animal's life?
UN-answerable, isn't it?

Point 3. Animal Cruelty.
This is actually the main reason I'm pissed off at the current time. I just saw a horrible video on a pig farm. Where they were being cruelly killed.
I shall spare you the morbid details. You do NOT want to know. And of course, there's also the video about the animal skinning. I shall not elaborate.
Humans ARE animals. No, screw that, humans are freakish monsters.
But we started off as animals. Greed made us more.
We are so sruel to animals, making out that we're smarter than them.
I think we are so, so far off the target on that particular ssubject. ANTS are smarter than us, for the plain simple fact, they aren't destroying our world. WE are the stupidest animals....for that I am ashamed.

4. Wars
If the above wasn't enough, we kill each other. Forgetting, of course, that in the midst of it all, so much more gets destroyed. Over what? LAND.

In ending, I say this: I'm trying to think of a solution to these problems...but I'm 13....I know that doesn't mean anything, but I hope that people actually start to think aout solutions too. We need to reverse what we've done. Immediately.

Rhinoceroses and other random things. / 4:20 PM

Okay, I'm back!

I guess I'll tell you how the Rhinoceros performance went. I was slightly late (well, I thought so) so I ran all the way to the performance. And then it turned out I was early, which was good because I got good seats.
As the audience filled up, I began to feel really under-dressed ( if there's even such a thing). Everyone (or well, it seemed like everyone) was dressed up really fancy in dresses and updos. I slid further down in my seat in my jeans and new top.
At least the performance was good. I think it was about the definition of normal and ordinary. I'll shorten things down for you. After the whole world had been turned into rhinoceroses, the main character, who was always against being a rhinoceros, battled with himself if he was going to stay "normal" and human, or normal, like the rest of the world. It was really cool.
Okay, now I'll write about my grandfather's birthday dinner. It was at Guildhouse. The first thing I noticed as I walked into the venue was the cool breeze. It was a rooftop dining thing, and we chose our food to barbeque (no, we didn't do the barbequing ourselves...). I loved the atmosphere up there. It was complete with two guitarists who were playing and singing, although I think they could have benefitted from a few microphones. I think my grandfather was really happy...He kept smiling.
Yeah, okay i have to go, because my brother is complaining and trying to get me off the computer. Also, I have to go learn my Animal Farm lines for theatre. I'm Squealer =).


xoxoxo
Sarah.

/ 4:45 PM

Hey!

Well, that picture just about sums up how I feel now... Contemplatively bored. With an envelope in my hand.

Yes, with an envelop in my hand, cos it's my grandfather's birthday. So, I shall state it here even though he's never going to actually read this:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YEH YEH!!!

Okay, I have to go now because we have to go for the birthday celebrations.... Oh and the weirdest phone conversation happened today. Natheniel ( my cousin) called ( I think)

Nat: Can I speak to Tim(my brother) please?

My mum ( thinking he said tyen): wrong number, sorry.

*Hangs up*

Phone rings.

Me: Hello?

Nat: Can I speak to Timmy please?

Me: He's in tuition.

Nat: oh okay, nevermind.

*end call*

He must be so confused, calling the same number twice with two different responses. And I'm not even sure that it was Nat. Oh well, we're gonna see him at the celebration tonight so I'll ask him.

I'll write about yesterday's performance when I'm free...

bye!

xoxoxo

Sarah

( at a later date: Yes, it was Natheniel, and he was very, very confused.)

Self-pity / 4:24 PM

Hey...I'm back..
After almost killing myself finding a new blogskin because my nice sweet one with buttons and flowers disappeared under a mass of photobucket notices, I decided to stick with my old skin.
Oh, and I finished New Moon. So, I have approximately 70 days to wait til Eclipse comes out in paper back. (Limited allowance = Cheap-er books)
And then I wait til Breaking Dawn becomes paperback too.
I hate not being able to afford books when they come out. Publixhers must do this so that people who urgently want to read their books have to pay high prices for the books. This sucks. They have to take into consideration the students who live on a meagre allowance!
Oh and I gave up on my writing blog. It has approximately, lets's see, uh, ONE poem in it.
So I give up. I'll just post whatever literary stuff I come up with here. On my blog.
I began a new story again. But like the rest of my billion and one stories, I am so, so stuck. I think it's because I never really think through the storyline, I just pick up my pen and just write. If I ever get round to finishing at least one chapter, I'll post it up here. I have no idea why I do this.. It's not like my writing is superbly wonderful or something. Actually, I suck at writing. So, why am I even doing this? And why am I even BLOGGING? Like anyone reads this.
Okay, I think I'll go wallow in self-pity for the rest of the day ( not like there's much of it left, it's already 4:30pm.) Or maybe use that new guitar chord handbook. Or play NFS (need for speed) Carbon. In case you didn't get that, it's a racing game. Which I suck at. Or I'll re-read New Moon and Twilight for the 8735654th time.


Today is just one of those days, I guess.

xoxoxo Sarah

Twilight / 3:46 PM

Hey!

I feel sorta crazy..
And not to mention happy.
I have no idea what I'm doing on the computer when I have a new book to read....I finally bought New Moon by Stephenie Meyer. I have Twilight already.
Yeah, anyway so I went to the Popular at Toa Payoh to exhange a defective pen, and got told off in Chinese by a cashier for not checking if the pencil worked in the first placed. I was ABOUT to tell her that I thought that there was no lead in it and so I didn't know that it was defective and that opening a box of lead and putting it into a pencil in the middle of the store didn't seem like a smart thing to do. Mainly because they'd kick me out of the store. I was ABOUT to. But then, I realised that my chinese vocabulary did not encompass such a wide range of words.
So I just went, " Dui Bu Qi" which is essentially, sorry in chinese. These are the type of moments I wish I'd learnt my chinese better.... really!
I have seriously no idea why I'm writing this when I could be reading New Moon. It's seriously taunting me, sitting in the corner like that.
So I hope you guys know the pain I went to to bring this piece of news to you!
Yeah, right. Like anyone actually reads my blog. Like anyone even bothers. And what about that anyway? Aren't blogs supposed to be narcissistic? It's essentially a 'come read about me and my super fab life!' isn't it?
Oh well. I shall give in to temptation. And read the book. Oh wait... I have to update my writing blog too... oh well.

xoxo
Sarah

What did I just do....? / 4:47 PM

I think I am going crazy. I can't believe I just deleted all my past posts. I just deleted all my posts. !?!?!?!

Oh well, I guess it gives me more space to post now. Oh and did I mention I just created a new blog? (Duh, I didn't. This is my first post.... -.- I am so dumb sometimes...)

Well, yeah anyway, It's for all my story stuff. You know, random bits of text that I write. It's gonna include poems etc. Who knows, this way, I may actually be able to finish off a story! But there's a downside, though.... you guys will have to read from bottom post up if you really want to understand whatever I'm writing and follow the story.

I'll post a link at the links page and I'll try to write something in it later on ( It's currently embarassingly empty and plain). ( The story blog, I mean. Although this one only has only one post in it.. Oh well.)

xoxoxo

Sarah.

Hey, my name is Sarah Frances, as you've probably guessed. I hate writing profiles because it's like I have to condense everything I am and whatever I stand for into a teensy paragraph. Or else you'll get bored and give up reading my blog. And that's a bad thing, because I actually do want you to read my blog. Not because I think I have the most wonderful ideas or whatever, but because I want to be heard.
Oh geez louise, this is sounding like a campaign election, But I swear I'm not trying t get picked for some competition or something.
In fact, I don't want you to think of me as anything at all. I want you to thnk I am a blob. Because if not, I bet you're going to have this mindset of me, and I gave up on making great impressions about a month from today.
I'm sick of trying to make the right impression by having the greatest blogskin, the best post or whatever. So I write what I think people should read. This blog is also for me to let out steam. I mean, what's better than pounding at a keyboard, right? No, actually, I can think of many things that are btter but that would just kinda ruin the point for this entire long paragraph that I've typed out.
Oh. Oh wait. I just typed out a whole paragraph, and you don't know a thing about me, other than the fact I'm Sarah, and that I'm weird, and that i tend to ramble a lot.
Okay.
I'll give you a few generic facts first.
1. I'm born on the 1st or October, 1995. Which means I'm currently thirteen.
2. I have two dogs.
3. I have one brother, and sadly, no he's not one of my dogs.
4. I go to School Of The Arts, Singapore,for theatre and will be in G6 next year (which is soon.)
5. I used to go to Convent Of The Holy Infant Jesus (CHIJ) Toa Payoh.
6. I live in Singapore, Singapore. Well duh, I think you knew that.
7. I am currently 42 kg and 160cm tall.

Okay, moving on to not-so-generic stuff.
1. I am strongly against the death penalty.
2. I am STRONGLY against animal cruelty.
3. I like to write.
4. I can sing and play the guitar.
5. I suck at any form of Visual Arts.
6. I am also completely sick of picking out like, points of me that you will find interesting.

I hate having to think, Hmm, which one will sound better in my blog? Which will give readers a better impression of me?
So I've decided I couldn't care less what you think of me. I type what I want, the points that I find interesting.
I really don't want anyone to create a fixed idea of who I am.
Like, oh, Sarah is creative, kind, selfish, bossy whatever.

Because I can fully be all of these things, so you can't brand me and then expect that I'll stick to what you think is me.

Okay. I'm done.

moved. / 9:21 PM

To proceed and read more insanely boring entries about Sarah's opinions, please proceed to the following web address: www.the-wallflower-diaries.blogspot.com
if you actually have something better to do, I won't bother you any longer.

thank you and have a nice day =)

/ 9:51 PM

The Law Of Buses.

1. The bus will leave just as you are emerging from the school gates. Always.
2. If you try to catch the bus you will not make it and will trip and fall down the stairs in the overhead bridge.
3. The people you want to avoid most will always end up on your bus.
4. After you have waited forever for the bus, it will be really really crowded. But you don't care because you are late.
5. When you get of the bus, you will realise there was another one directly behind it, and that this one was empty.

The Law Of Homework.
1. On days you are the busiet, ALL your teachers will say, "I know you guys have late hours, so I just want you to do this little bit of homework."
2. Once you get home, you will realise you left your pencilcase in school.
3. After you have taken a shower and eaten, you will hunt for a pen.
4. You will not be able to find a pen.
5. You try doing it in pencil instead.
6. You realise some weirdo has added you on Facebook.
7. You will spend another hour on facebook, tracking down this weird guy who added you.
8. You will realise that it was one of your teachers.
9. You end up doing half your homework and then falling asleep.

The Law of Raising Your Hand In Class.
1. When you raise your hand, the teacher will not pick you.
2. He will, instead, pick someone who is very smart and sitting right up front.
3. When you reach the questions you did not complete (due to having the same teacher adding you on Facebook, and you thinking that it was possibly a stalker), he will turn to you and ask you for the answer.
4. You will not have the answer.
5. You will die of embarassment as he extolls the values of doing homework well.

These are My Laws. I'll add to them when anything new comes up.

/ 11:20 PM

This post is in response to Fayth's latest post.

Because I do want to be living in a story too. I mean, who wouldn't? It's so simple, to live in a storybook. You always know which guy the girl is going to end up with, you know she won't really die, you know that she'll figure out a way in the end.

In real life, we stumble around like headless chickens in a maze where we don't know which direction we're supposed to be going.
I try to pretend I live in a storybook. I write about my life the way authors write about their characters. I try to make it seem that even though my life's got it's problems, there's always the way out, that I would find the solution. I try to make myself seem special, because what's the point of being normal?
And plus, in stories, things happen to people who are different, who don't fit into the category of plain jane, normal. Whether it's the detached, deep thinker who doesn't mix much snd keeps to herself, or the extroverted one who's friends with everyone, or the extremely talented type of person.

See, if I were a storybook character, I'd be the girl with this dream and although she thinks her dreams are too far away, in the end she makes it.

Here, let me write the entire plot down: I'd keep getting knocked down, over and over but I still keep trying. In the end, I make it to some university in LA, land some perfect boyfriend, and get into auditions.

The auditioning would be tough, but I would get one good part and then work my way up the top to better roles. Ta-daa. Dream come true, happy-ever-after. And if I wanted to make a sequel, I'd get my perfect wedding and have a perfect kid, all the while with this bunch of complications I would solve by the end of the book.

Because when you have a storybook, you can almost always gurantee a happy ending. You always know that whatever happens to the character, it all works out in the end. You know she'll figure a way to make things work out.

Maybe this is why I can't write now. I just can't come up with an ending. I can write. And write. But I can't write stories, because I don't know how to end the story. How do you make a happy ever after when you don't believe in them? How do you make your character sort all her problems out by the end of her book?

You can't make her have an unhappy ending. because no one would read it. No one wants to read that they actually will never make it to the top, no matter how much you want to get there, no matter how hard you work.

No one wants to know that they will never be anybody, yaboosucks to you, you can't reach yourr dream, nananananana.

Grr, I honestly wished I lived in a storybook. My entirre future would be planed in detail by a nice author, who will throw stuff in my way, but always give me a ladder and a shortcut to the very end.

And then the very nice author plans the happy ever after. The end, flowers and Bambi and cheesy songs.

Grah. I keep thinking that maybe things will actually all work out in my favour if I try,but who am I kidding?

This is the real world, not some storybook.

Love, Sarah.

/ 11:11 PM

I feel like I'm just going to stop breathing. Like, if I think hard enough, I will make a solution appear in front of me. But of course it doesn't work out like that.
If you could see me now, you'd see my eyes slightly red and wide, wide open in shock.
In fact, I'm finding it hard to type. I feel like just sitting here and staring at the screen.
So I'm sorry for the bad English or weird spacing and paragraphing.

UCLA doesn't offer scholarships to IB students. And you have to have a 4.1 GPA to get in, or some outrageous good mark like that.

It. Doesn't. Offer. Scholarships. To. IB. Students.

So.

That's it, I guess, since I'm not really some heiress who'll inherit millions of dollars. I can't go to UCLA. I probably won't be able to go anywhere good. Anywhere near where I want to be.
When I told my mum, she laughed at me.

She's right. It was a dumb dream anyways. Who plans their dream and the best route to get to it when they're thirteen? In fact, which psycho dreams of what I do.

Shit. I don't know who I was trying to kid, about the acting thing. I can't act very well. I'm not pretty. God, I can't even go to college there.

Huh. You know what I was hoping for? I was hoping that I'd be that one in a million. That I could be that one. It'd be difficult, but I always thought, maybe, if I worked hard enough.
But no. I was kidding myself, wasn't I. I am one of the 999999 that don't make it.

DAMN IT. You know what sucks, is that I tried. I researched. I practiced. I took notes carefully, tried to be organised so that I could get the marks good enough for a goddamn scholarship. I just forgot to check if they offered it to IB students.
Huh. IB students living in SINGAPORE. This small little dot which everyone thinks is a part of China.
Maybe I'm just going to be stuck here. I'll die here, stuck, trapped, nobody.

I AM NOBODY. DO YOU HEAR ME, WORLD? I AM NOBODY.
Well, then, Back to being Invisigirl, I suppose.
I feel like I'm in a transparent cube. I can see the outside, it's just there, just outside my cube. And then I try to get to it. Bloody glass wall's in the way, innit.
It's like I'm running around in the cube, trying to get out, but I keep bashing into a wall, and each time, I hurt myself a little more.
Soon, I'll be a battered mess of blood and bones.

Is dying because you can't get to your dreams better, or is living in that glass cube, always knowing that there is an outside better?
No, I am not contemplating suicide yet.
Because I AM STUPID. BECAUSE I STILL HOPE THAT I'M ONE IN A BAZILLION. I AM STUPID. I AM STILL RUNNING IN THAT GLASS CUBE AND I WILL KEEP GOING TIL I BASH MY BRAINS OUT.

SHIT. This is a very whiny post. I sound about two. But I think the fact that I am able to write after that was pretty good. Let's not try talking. I may combust.

I fee like cursing.
%!*#&*)@)!()#&@)@____&#(*@&#)!^^!!*#&:#*#&***.
That wasn't half as satisfying as swearing properly would have been. but I won't.
PATHETIC.
sarah.

Watch me, watch me, I am Invisigirl. / 11:14 PM

Well, so I'm back to writing notes on facebook.I realise no one reads this.And no one's reading it now.But who cares?I mean, maybe I'm really weird, (Maybe? Ha, I am weird.) or maybe just super self-conscious, or both, but I come off a lot better on paper, in writing.

When you first meet me, you realise that I'm very awkward with strangers, or people I don't know very well. Or you think I have a mental disability or something.Like today, for example. In theatre we had to do a short piece about ourselves. My group chose to do monologues. My monologue was something along the lines of: "Uh... I tend to over-think anything I do and then criticise myself a lot, but - " Interjection from Fayth "No, you don't criticise yourself, you stomp all over yourself." "Uh, yeeaaaah...I get really awkward and self conscious went people's attention is focused on me and I overthink whatever I'm doing, like now, because everyone's watching and...uh, yeah."

And then later on, when asked what could be improved in 2009, I completely forgot what I was talking about and then had to be reminded by my theatre teacher. (For the record, I was aiming to be less self-conscious and worried about what others think of me.)

Another classic example would be in class, when talking to a teacher. My general response to whatever she said was: Uh...Okay... um.

I'm pretty sure I've convinced all my teachers I am a freak.

And in an effort to rectify any wrong impression they may have about me, when asked to write about myself, I launched into and expose on how I live in the gray areas of life.
What is wrong with me, really?
When a teacher asks you to write or draw something that represents you, most people draw something like a heart, or write about their hobbies, or something. But noooo, I am the idiot who writes about how she feels about things, and how things are very unclear.
Bleargh. I am designed to be a social misfit.

Sometimes I feel like I am trapped in my body, like I could be all these things if not for how I looked, or the way I sound.
And sometimes I have all these things I want to say, to stop people from getting a bad impression of me, that I either a)Talk up a storm which no one can understand because I speak too fast, or b) I go, "Uhh. Um. Yeaaah. uh." Neither of which have the desired effect.

Okay, so now we all know how much Sarah hates talking about herself.
But in theatre it's different.
Because we take on roles, so I'm not really me.
I act the part. In fact, if you asked me about my character, I could give you a thousand word essay.
Even for short plays, I am completely comfortable in my character's skin. Too bad I'm not too comfortable in my own.
In plays, I am willing to do stupid things, like jump around and cluck like a chicken, because, I'm not being stupid, my character is.
But if you dared me to do it in real life, I'd probably start blushing crazily and refuse.With friends it's different, I guess, because they don't judge you very much. They know who you are and whatever nonsense you try to pull, it's fine, because you're you. And because I have the bestest friends.

When I'm comfortable, I'm able to be completely rational and sane, but if I get freaked out, the only thing you'll actually be able to hear from me is a hell of a lot swearing and me going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

Obviously, I am not good when under pressure.

And you'd think with all this madness going on in my head that I'd be some unpopular social misfit, but I'm not. I'm not very popular, not everyone knows my name, but I don't get picked on and I have many good friends, who don't mind that I'm freakishly balance-challenged and that I'm stranger-phobic.

So, that's it I guess.
Love, Sarah.

/ 1:49 PM

I KNOW! I know! I killed my blog. I buried it. You could call it murder, even.
I mean, I should start posting about how my camp went, how Malaysia was, and how my Christmas was and all. And then I should start grovelling to you guys for abandoning the blog for almost one and a half months.

I mean, I should.
But I'm not going to.

Well, as the post suggests, I'm not here today to tell you about camp and Malaysia. Which I will tell you at some other time that is not now.
Anyway.

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us - don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know!
How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell one's name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
- Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson,
Don't you dare to say.
That being nobody
is good.
I've tried that before.
It doesn't work out.
And what do you know
About being nobody?
You are Somebody,
You have left your mark.
In indelible ink
on this world.
I am Nobody.
With nothing to my name.
Nothing left behind
Dreaming of being
Someone.

I know it's dumb, but everyone has their dumb moments, right? Well, it's not really a dumb moment, but oh well.
*deep breath*
*squeak*
*another deep breath*
i want to be an actress.
There.
I said it.
Okay? Itold you it was dumb.
Now you'll probably say, No, it is NOT stupid.

But you haven't let me explain it first. I don't really want to be a star on our national televisions, because that basically involves either a motherlode of Chinese, or shows like The Noose, Phua Chu Kang and Maggi and Me. Which are all very good if you like that stuff.
I actually mean a movie-television-series actress.

And here comes the part you learn why that's a dumb ambition.
a) I'm Asian.
Have you seen many Asian actresses around, huh? Have you seen them star in many other shows that don't include hi-ya-ing people and the typically chinese rubbish that the West thinks we're good for, like playing the waitress serving the main character in the Chinese restaurant? I mean the only one I can think of is like, Sandra Oh, from Grey's Anatomy.

b) I'm ugly. NO, UH-UH BEFORE you start those violent accusations of "You're NOT ugly" Let me tell you why. I have a 'small, button' nose, which is good if you're a anime character, which I unfortunately am not. I have bushy eyebrows (apparently adds character to my face). Yeah, right. I also have a moustache. And I'm a freaking girl. People say it's not that obvious, but it totally is, they're just being nice.

c) There are two standards of acting: Either you can act, or you can't. I don't know if I can act. I'd like to think that I can, but I don't know, and I can't judge myself. And there are a whole bunch of hopefuls like myself who actuallt live in Los Angeles and are not ugly or Asian.

d) I am nowhere near Los Angeles. I am on a small island that has to be pointed out with a RED DOT on the globe. Or else you'd just miss it or mistake it for a speck of dust. How do you get talent spotted all the way here? Answer, in case you didn't know is: You can't.

So here is my wonderful plan to get to Los Angeles: Start work once I get to the legal age of 14. Save as much money as possible until I'm 18. Apply to Univerity of California, Los Angeles.
Get into UCLA. Audition while going through college.

I know. I told you, it's stupid. But I do want to be an actress really badly. I know how people think Hollywood's full of stuck-up bitches who will sleep with people to further their careers, but I would never be like that.
Also did I mention, I'm Asian and not pretty?

My mum thinks it's stupid I've spent the last few days going through different college websites. I mean, I even picked out what degree I'm going to do and made sure UCLA had it.
Applied Linguistics.

And I totally agree with my mum that I'm getting way too obsessive. I mean, who picks colleges when they're 13? She also thinks this actress thing is a phase.
But it's not.
I mean it hurts when I think about how I'll never make it. I cry, sometimes too.

And there's only a teensy chance that I'll even make it to UCLA. It's a good school, and it's America's most applied to school. (I checked the statistics)
And it costs over 30,000 American dollars for school fees and boarding.

I'll never get that much money by the time I'm 18, even if I don't spend a cent.
My family's not rich either. We're very much the average Singaporean household, so unless we like find oil, or strike the lottery, we're not going to come by that much money.
I could apply for a scholarship, but there's an even higher chance I won't get it.

My grades are higher than average and all those NSW and GEP tests I took place me in Singaopore's top 10% but I don't know if that's good enough for a scholarship.

And plus some have strings attached, which means I have to come back to Singapore for four years after college because I'm in a bond.

And I'll probably not make it as an actress because there are so many more talented more beautiful actresses out there who probably wouldn't mind the no morals thing.

Everyone says I should try the Theatre route, like what I'm doing now. I think that's good too, and I probably will start out doing that. I mean the theatre is so much deeper.
So much more to it than staring at a camera and trying not to look constipated. With theatre, there's always a deeper message to it.

So I guess I don't quite have EVERYTHING planned out (I'm so desperate, I'd play the part of the Asian girl who walks past the main character while speaking Chinese to her mum.)

But I should be dealing with the NOW part of life and figuring out what I can do now.
Which is why I've been searching for roles on the internet in Singapore.
Madness.

Ah well.

Merry Belated Christmas and a Happy New Year to All! (In the background, fading out: all..all..all.l.ll.)

Sarah.

I'm going on hiatus / 10:30 PM

Hey all, (which is like, 3 people because no one ever reads my blog)

It is the night of the 27th of November. Thanksgiving.

Yay for the humans eating turkey and watching the preschoolers put up plays about pilgrims.
Boo for the poor turkeys.

Well, anyway, on the night of Thanksgiving and the eve of Black Friday, I'm here to tell you I'm going on hiatus.

No one'll actually miss my scintillating blog posts for the week and a half I'm gone, right? In fact, I sometimes take longer than that to post. Anyay.

So here is what I'll be doing (not spending time in front of the television watching Grey's Anatomy and FRIENDS reruns. That was getting pathetic.)

From tomorrow to Sunday, I'll be at CCF camp. Children's Cancer Foundation. And now you're like huh, wait, Sarah has cancer?
I don't. My brother did, and so did my mum, which is why I'm with CCF. Because of my brother.

Anyway, and then I'll come back and then I'm leaving for Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia for a visit-my-very-very-numerous-relatives trip. With my grandmother.

Right now, camp seems fun and the Malaysia thing not so much.

And that's because i'm expected to remember my numerous relatives' names, and their titles, like Mai Mai or Gu Gong, Mai po, and some have funny stuff attached to their names and it gets very confusing. Also because the only people I have for company are the characters from my book, and a wall because most of the relatives below 16 are boys and I haven't seem them for over three years.

And because it's like the elder generations are always passing judgement about me, like, that girl eats with her elbows up. She can't remember what to call me etc. Gargh.

Well, I don't know. I hope it turns out alrigh. When I get back I'll tell you about it.

ANd this is weird, but I read this book where the main character was this guy fixated about last words.
I looked Last Words up on Wikipedia, and I loved Lady Nancy Astor's last words. When she awoke to find her family crowded round her as she lay sick, she said, "Am I dying, or is this my birthday?"

So in case I die, I want these to be my last words (I may end up with a last paragraph): There is no wrong time to die. But to say you have fulfilled life is different. So live today like it's your last, because it might be. Love everything, everyone and give all to those who need.

Love, sarah.

Law system / 7:55 PM

I'm back with another blog post I'm pretty sure will end up being those roundabout argument things that I am oh-so-fond of.
I'm sitting and frustratedly banging at my computer keys here, because I really can't be bothered to do an introduction to this blog post, because I think I just read one of Jodi Picoult's most powerful books ever. And I really need to post!
And no, I am not going to waste time telling you the plot in detail. You should really go read the book. And also, if anyone reads one of those short summaries, god so help me, I will kill you.

Anyway, enough with wasting time.
Basically, I am here to slam death penalties.

To begin with, I want to ask why the hell death penalties are still around.
Death penalties, and I don't care if it's hanging, or death by a firing squad or whatever.

When people are sentenced to death, anywhere, it raises this huge controversy. And you'd think by now, someone would have made this illegal.
It's barbaric.
It's absolutely downright stupid.

Let's call my criminal Bob.
Let's say Bob kills Bill.
And then Bob is sentenced to death.
Bob is killed by law.

And then what is the result of this mess? Two deaths.

I am going to look at this from different perspectives, and I hope I don't miss any.

Firstly, the one and only sole reason I can think of that would even somewhat justify this even in the smallest sense of the word 'justify' is that simply, the government wants to keep the citizens of its country safe. I can fully understand why they would see death as an option if it meant keeping people safe to make sure that others don't lose their lives as well.
But there are plenty of other ways to ensure this.
Will these other solutions take more time, effort, and money?
Well, duh.
But a human life is priceless.

Okay I think the crux of the matter is this:
Is a murderer any different from me and you?
Are our lives any more valuable than a criminal's?
Hands up, if you've never sinned.

Really, either way you look at it, it's a life lost.
Maybe it is not an innocent life, but does committing a crime, make your life less valuable?
A life is a life, regardless of what they've done.
And if the above statement is true, then we might as well, go drag some guy of the streets and shoot him.
And plus, if Bill killed Bob's wife before Bob killed Bill, why is it a crime for Bob to murder him, yet it's fine if the government had killed Bill/Bob?

This is like the Hammurabi's code that we learn in IHSS. It's basically, an eye for an eye, a tooth for tooth. A life for a life.
And how dumb is that? We end up with twice the misery, twice the hate, and twice the pain. And it's not even for a good reason.

Here's the ironic part that kills me: It's a bunch of humans doling out this punishment.
Humans are so imperfect (Understatement of the millenium)
So what give us the right to go, Hmm, you killed someone. You are therefore a meanypuss and should die! (okay, I'm exaggerating a little, but you get the point, right?)

Humans, who are the ones killing the world, the ones who go to war and then destroy everything in their path. Humans.

And humans are doling out punishment to someone who kills.
Personally, I've never gone to war, or shot someone, or created an atomic bomb, but it's the fact that every single bloody one of us has the power to do this. It is within our reach to so something like that.
Aaaaand we're judging a murderer why again?

And it's not like jail, where you actually are alive.
Humans, with their crazy screwed up minds, judging people with their own warped sensibilities are saying that people should die.
Die.
Condemning someone to that fate.
Lose your life.

Now explain to me again, how death penalty is a great idea?

Let's consider it from a Christian standpoint.
In this case, we are guilty of sins, but in order to lift these sins, we need to pray an confess what we've done and ask the Lord to forgive us.
Okay, maybe Bob is Christian.
So if Bob is forgiven by God, he is innocent of the crime in the Lord's eyes.
So what is he being punished for? Nothing.
I don't understand other religions enough to be able to consider this from their viewpoint, though, so I don't know if there is a religion that is fine with the death penalt.

Okay, so maybe to Bill's mother in law, Bob's death is 'justice', because it's right that Bob should die just like what he did to Bill.
But it's not really, is it?
It's not good for anybody. It's not good for Bill's family it's not good for Bob's family either.
Maybe Bill's family holds a grudge against Bob.
So instead of Bob's death as being justice for what has been done, Bob's death is now revenge.
And that's just emotionally and mentally not good for anyone.
Watching Bob die won't bring back Bill.

Now, let's talk about Bob.
I don't believe that anyone is cold hearted or cruel.
I think every sane person does crimes for a reason.
An unreasonable reason , maybe, but a reason all the same.

Most of them regret their crimes, they want to make it up to other people.
They want to do something good with the rest of their lives.
But here's the thing: they can't! Because they're DEAD.
It's time to stop judging criminals by the crimes they did but by the person. The whole person.

Death penalties are wrong, and twistedly cruel. Imagine if someone is hanged, and the next day, whoopsie daisie! He's not guilty, actually, it was some other guy. What now? Hang the other guy?


Where is the justice then, in death penalties?
If the law is about justice and doing what's right, why is killing someone legal?
Where's the logic in that?

But then again, who am I to talk, huh? I'm a 13 year old who has grown up within the shores of Singapore and I only see a sliver of the world.
But there are alternatives to death, but they're tricky and require time, money and space.
So in the mean time, I'm going to try and think of a better way to replace the death penalties.

Because there's got to be another way.

Life is not a damn storybook. / 1:01 PM

I'm back, after neglecting my blog.
Anyhoo, my title.
For once, my title has everything to do with this blog post.
I was looking at all my previous blog posts and Fayth's latest one, and I have come to the conclusion that storybooks are evil.

I love reading, and I love books, but they're evil.
Well, most of them are anyway.

Books. Fiction.
The type where the main character is never very popular, and finds a million faults in herself/himself, always happens to be clumsy, but really is beautiful as all hell, just that she can't see her inner beauty yada yada yeah. You get the type.

And in the end, they have this marvellous little happy ending and all the villains are dead. Whee.

I mean, not that I don't enjoy reading.
In fact, I'm a bookworm.

But the thing is, books are all a damn lie. LIE.

In real life, if someone thinks she's ugly, not aceptable looking, in most cases, she is. Or at the very least average looking.
But nooo, in storybooks when the characters say they're ugly, then at the end before some grand ball, they put on the perfect dress and their best friends do their make up and then suddenly, oh! They're beautiful, can't recognise the face in the mirror etc.

And in real life, not everyone gets the perfect happy ever after.
Not that I don't think that happy ever afters don't exist, because they do, but they're extremely rare. And the person who won the luck lottery never realises how fortunate she is and that not everyone gets that type of fairytale.
And do you think authors know that fairytale endings are never real?
Yeah, they do.

But they go around writing about these happy endings because maybe they dream about this happy ending that they know they're not going to get so they settle for writing someone else's happy endings for them.

And so this whole bunch of authors write happy endings, causing the readers to be faced with a barrage of happiness.
And then they think that since, you know, they've read so many books and happy endings happen in all of them, then happy endings must be real.

I was one of those poor suckers.
But really, now I realise the truth behind all that sappy happy endings.
Not everybody is pretty.
Not everybody finds happiness in the end.
People die.

The world is frikkin screwed up, we knew that from the start, right?
But it is our world.
It sucks, but that's the truth.

Happy endings don't happen all the time.
And you know what?

I've been pretending a lot, as mentioned in my previous post, but I finally realised the reason why.
I trip.
I'm clumsy.
My life isn't the best.
I think a lot.

This is me trying to be the type of girl in those stupid stories.
I'm trying to make me that so that I'll get my happy ending.
Dumb, huh?

I mean, if I really was in a book, this is what would happen: Cynical girl, who doesn't believe in love, doesn't believe in happy endings etc. -----> meets some perfect people, gets her happy ever after in the end, realises that she was wrong...live happily ever after.

Okay, admitedly, I am still hoping that that's the case, even though I know it's not.
I am so dumb sometimes.

Wth Love,
Sarah.

P.S. I still want to be an author, but I swear never to write that type of story ever. Because if I tried to write that, I'd just get very very mad and then kill off everyone in my story, like in a Shakespeare tragedy.

Breaking my own heart / 11:59 AM

Hey, again...
I think this is my fourth attempt at doing a blog post. I abandoned the ones before because they sounded so weird.
I promised to be honest on this blog and I am going to be.

I think that my blog is all roughly based on the impression I want to give people, like this blog only shows one part of me, my favourite part of me.

And I wonder, is that wrong? Am I really being honest when I only show you this part of me when I think so much?

I mean, I make out that I'm clumsy, and that I trip a lot (very true), that I'm very introspective ( I am) but reading through the past blog posts it's like that's all I ever talk about.
Because I don't want people to think that I'm special and that I'm only ever like this.

Because I do do ordinary stupid things, I get into awkward situations, and I make really bad choices. And I guess reading through my blog you can't really see that.

I'm good at making people think I'm someone I'm not really. I mean this whole introspective part of me IS me, but it's not exclusively me.
Does that make sense?
I'm so many people and this i just the part of me that I show most of the time, but I don't want anyone to think this is the only part of me.

I do do stupid, dumb things, I'm really not glamorous.
I mean, I try to act glamorous, and sometimes it works, but most of the time I end up looking really dumb.

Does everyone do this? Act, I mean.

Here is what I think. there are two forms of acting.
One it the stage/film/television type.

The other one is so much deeper that it scares me.
This other type of acting is the act that we put on to get on through our daily life. We act to fit ourselves into a particular stereotype. I mean, we act the way we think someone like us should act. I think we're all guilty of this, really. Or maybe it's just me.
If you were me, when I slipped, I'd try to make it obvious-er. I do this a lot, so much that it's become second nature for me. When I trip I normally go whooahh!

Okay, so maybe this may seem natural to people, but it's not really. Going 'Whooah!" is something that would happen in a book or a movie, not in real life. It's really not natural, and I'd really prefer to fall silently. But when I draw attention to my slipping and falling, it's like I'm fitting in with the stereotype of Sarah.

And I used to think this was a good thing, but after a while, and looking back, I don't think it is. Do I really want to show only this part of me and be stuck in this stereotype? So here. I've decided to try and escape this mold that I'm creating for myself while it's still shallow.

This is a really weird post, and I'm sorry. But if you understand what I'm talking about, please don't call me weird or whatever. You are entitled to your opinion, and I am entitled to mine.

Love,
Sarah

Missing / 4:06 PM

Hey again, I know I've been AWOL for a while (Again.) but I've been very busy. Anyway I'm back on blogger with a new and improved self centered topic.

You guessed it, this topic's about me. Again. Because I have been attempting to consider myself from a third person perspective.
It's no easy feat, believe me, trying to seperate the me-me and the stranger-me.

But I have some stuff so far.


At first glance, I look unfriendly, mean, cold...whatever. This is because when I am alone I normally think. And when I think, I tend to frown, scowl and oddly, pout. So I look kind of scary. Not really the type of person you'd want your daughter to make friends with.

I don't look average.
I don't have that Asian perfect, swingy black hair. I am Asian. I have very black hair. But I really don't have that perfect toss-over-your-shoulder, Let's-do-a-commercial-for-conditioner! type hair. More like, fly-all-over-into-your-eyes-partially-blinding-you-causing-you-to-trip hair.

I also have thick eyebrows, courtesy of my dad's hairy genes. When scowling, this adds to the effect of DO NOT APPROACH!

My eyes are Asian, and Chinese-y looking. But not really. They are considered pretty wide for Asian eyes, except when I smile. When I smile, they become significantly smaller.
They are really dark, which I hate. I mean, have you ever heard anyone say: You have such deep black eyes... Or your eyes are like liquid pools of ... um, tar? Way cool. Not.

I have a pretty average-y nose, other than the fact thatI have a zillion blackheads. I mean I know I should really take care of my skin more, but I really can't be bothered sometimes.

I have hair on my upper lip, courtesy of my dad's hairy genes again. I mean, seriously I think that if you cut my hair, I could probably look like a guy enough to get into NS.

Normal lips, I guess... although they pout when I think.

I am generally big-sized. As in, I have a bigger frame. I am not of average weight, I am slightly underweight

I'm approximately 5 foot 3 inches (160 cm) and weigh 93 lbs(42.5 kg) (average weight for someone my height is 49 kg)

So I guess I am skinny, but not as skinny as I was last year.

I have pretty long legs. No I don't have pretty legs, I meant that my legs were kind of long. Which under normal circumstances would mean that I'd look slightly graceful, instead of looking like the clumsy goose I am today. Here are some things I have managed to do in this past week:
-trip 635247890 times
-Almost get knocked down by a car 3 times
- slip 5 times
-slip, trip, fall, sprawl an uncountable amount of times (I stoped counting. It got too depressing)

So all in all, I guess I don't look like the average 13 year old Singaporean girl.
I don't really dress like one either. But I guess I don't really know what average is. Average is so many things.
Does the fact I feel uncomfortable in shorts and flipflops mean I am weird?
Does the fact I have no problem getting into a dress mean I'm weird?
Weird is a weird word.

I wear mostly jeans everywhere, which is surprisingly not really average (most people just wear shorts. Singapore's climate can kill.) I also don't wear normal shirts much. I wear mostly a muddle of long t-shirts, skirts, dresses, dresses with jeans, long blouses with jeans etc.
Oh and when the occasion calls for it, many accessories.

That's it I guess. That's what you get from a first look. Isn't that weird? So much from one glance.

This is random and all, but you know the saying the eyes are the windows to your soul? I really believe that. I judge a person by his/her/it's eyes, mostly. Which is kinda odd, if you ask me. But no one does ask me, so this is where I put it. On my blog.

Self centered-ness is a crime! I should be posting about saving the environment, not agonising over how horrible I think I look!
But it's a superficial world out there.
And sometimes, just sometimes, we get superficial too.

With love,
Sarah Frances

I know one day you'll forget me. / 9:26 PM

Hey guys..so I've kind of been on blogger hiatus.. but some people (*virtual laser glares at Fayth and Jo An*) have persuaded me to come off hiatus.

SO I'm here again.

School's over..yipee..yay..hooray..whatever.

But I'd pay a gazillion dollars to have school for two more weeks like the primary school-ers. Maybe you think I've been out in the sun for too long or whatever. But I really, really don't want school to have ended.

It wouldn't be so bad if I knew I was going to see everybody again next year.
But the thing is, I won't.

Some people are transferring out to another school..some are being retained in Year 1... and one is migrating to Italy.

How could anyone voluntarily leave SOTA? I mean, we've been together for a year, and we've forged so many bonds. How could anyone leave?

Most upsetting thing is that most of these people are from theatre. My art form.
Do you know how gutwrenchingly, heartbreakingly painful watching them go on the last day is?
Do you know how hard it is to know that this is probably the last time you'll ever see these people ever ever again?

I mean they could be killed in a car crash while on a holiday to Cambodia or something and you wouldn't even know. (Not that I think that would happen or anything)

The theatre faculty is a FAMILY, for heaven's sake. Leaving's like leaving your family behind.
I mean I'm pretty sure leaving is probably not voluntarily.
But still, family.

And maybe leaving is hard too...you leave behind a part of yourself, everywhere.

Here's why I hate people leaving: no matter how hard you swear that you'll remember everything about that person...you won't. You never will.

Even if you a million photographs or videos and recordings...you will forget.

You forget what the brand of his bag is.
Then you forget the colour of her eyes.
The way she used to tilt her head.
His funny way of speaking.

Until..you forget the name..you forget her way of thinking.
And then you'll vaguely remember this girl with a bright smile.
And then you forget.
Forever.

This is why I hate goodbyes. You know that one day..he'll forget you..and scariest of all...you'll forget.

Memories fade..the specific details escape you.

What hurts most is when someone is wrenched away suddenly.
When you have no idea, and then you find yourself flat on your back.
And then you tell yourself....I should've..... Why didn't I.... We were so...

You'll regret not doing things...you'll regret not telling people things.

Here's an analogy of how people leaving feels like.

Imagine that you're a tree.
And imagine your roots are tangled up with another tree's roots.
And the tree is uprooted violently.
Your roots break at the intertwined part...so do some of the other tree's.
You are left with pieces of the other, while the other is left with pieces of you.
As time goes by, those pieces rot and fall away.
The end.

No one..nothing is ever permanent in this world.
But even if we are not remembered for it, we can still make a difference in it. I don't want to grow up and waste my life away and then die. I want to make an impact on the world.

I want to have, in some way, helped the world, not be this nameless person who contributes to pollution and then dies.

I want to help the world.

Here are extracts from two songs that I think that really aptly describe how I feel now.

"And suddenly I become a part of your past
I'm becoming the part that don't last
I'm losing you and it's effortless"

From Over My Head ( Cable Car ) by The Fray.

"You wanna show the world, but no one knows your name yet
Wonder when and where and how you're gonna make it
You know you can if you get the chance
In your face as the door keeps slamming
Now you're feeling more and more frustrated
And you're getting all kind of impatient waiting"

From One Step At a Time by Jordin Sparks.

Love,
Sarah Frances

P.S. Good luck in whatever you do even if I never see you again. Ever.
But we can keep in touch by email or something.
Just ask for it.

I don't believe in Romeos / 9:52 PM

Hello again!

Everyone's rejoicing now because the exams are over.
SO I'm gonna enjoy this time as much as I can until the results come out.

Anyway, this post has nothing to do with Romeo.
Well, maybe, if you can figure a way to connect it to my topic.

Today's blog post topic is about first impresions.
Because today, the new SOTA students came for a sort of orientation. I waited with Fayth, Viraj, Celeste and JoAn for the new theatre students.

An the first thing that hit me was: Whoah, they look interesting. And then: OMG there has to be what? 30 here? 40?

And then I realised that 4 of them were foreigners.
And the first thing I thought was like, bummer.
Because, call me rascist, whatever, but I was scared that this was going to become more and more foreign talent based.

And there was a particular girl who left a very bad impression, what with her constantly rolling her eyes at anyone who looked at ,and her garish make up.
And now people are going around bitching about her and telling people to be mean to her.

I have one question. now.
WHAT WARPED CRAZY MENTALITY IS THAT?!

I sounded mean, I'm sorry...but I don't like her as much as the next person, but seriously, getting the school to back you up in the mistreatment of someone you met for like 2 hours and have never talked to??
Man, I was disappointed when the message reached me...I thought we'd grown up enough already to realise that this is wrong. Apparently not, though.

Not that I think that the person who started this is bad and should be damned to hell for eternity or whatever. I just thhink that we have to realise that this is not going to solve anything an that as mean as she was to us, she deserves a fighting chance.
This post is also how much we judge on first impressions.

Like, OMG, that girl looks so quiet.
OMG, that guy looks so geeky.
etc etc etc.

Maybe I'm guilty of this too.
Judging quickly.
What makes us do that?
Form a mentality about something that we've seen like, once.

I think maybe it's a natural human reaction, but here's what I suggest you do when you know you're judging quickly.
Judge if you can't help it.
BUT.

Do NOT set your impression of the person/thing.
Don't cast it in stone.
Give it/her/he a chance to be able to change that impression.
Because you're guilty or judging someone unfairly and based on a poor first impression.

It's akin to looking at a Picasso and going, Ew, some 2nd grader drew that, and then walking away instead of taking the time to study the painting, to understand it before you pass any sort of permanent judgement.

That's my lesson of the day.
Ew, that sounded cheesy.

Anyway.
Bye
Love, Sarah

P.S I just realise how much I use the word 'like' like in all of my posts. Dang, like again.

I'm not a princess, and this is not my fairytale. / 5:58 PM

Hello. I'm feeling rather depressed. For some funny reason, it seems like there's no energy left in my body.





I know this is going to sound philosophical and weird, but stay with me for a moment, okay?



I am going to discuss something. (well, actually tell you about something, since I can't talk to you.)



Okay, so I'm going to discuss knowledge. Yeah, knowledge.

Brace yourselves, I'm feeling dead today. And when I feel dead, I tend to argue a lot.



This entire idea stemmed for a conversation between my mom and I a few nights back. We started off discussing the economy cris and then moved on the knowledge.

So I'm basically going to air my views here, because this is the only place I can think of.



Well, I mean I could call someone and tell them but they'd probably think I was psycho or something, or that I'd forgotten a sanity pill this morning



But I digress.



Ah. The economy crisis. Okay, do you want to know what I make out of the whole thing: Humans are effing stupid.



Do you know why?



This entire concept of supposed value is a system put in place by humans. Even dumber still is the way humans have assigned supposed values to things of no value, like, for example, a two dollar bill. The paper it's printed on's worth, what? 10 cents? This entire system has been imposed by humans, and also the way we assume something's more valuable than the other. Did anybody find a rock inscripted with the words: 'Diamonds are more precious than cow pats.' ?



No, no one's seen that. So, this entire value system has been made up by humans over trivial matters. You may say humans created the notion of what has a greater value based on its usefulness in daily life. But may I ask HOW a diamond is useful? I think the cow pat's more functional, really. You can actually make something of it, like say, fertiliser.

So why have humans implemented this ridiculous system? It's anyone's guess. I personally think it was out of greed. Humans created currency not as a way to have equal trade, but perhaps they created it with the idea that this was something else to be gained, something that could be counted.

And now we move on to why? Why are humans so filled with this unnecessary selfish greed? Here is my opinion: It is because of knowledge.

You see, humans only turn greedy because they have something to want. And these somethings are created by humans. And how did we create things? Through knowledge, We learnt how to. We learnt how to make A/C, we learned how to make things easier for us. Here is what my mum said, and I think it's so, so true:"Humans learn only for their benefit. Or else, what's the point?"

That's true. I mean, this is where this whole mess about environmental issues stemmed from as well, isn't it.

Humans learnt how to make thing easier for them--> Humans start getting greedy--> Humans start hurting the environment--> Humans realise this, but don't really care--> and then you come to us, today. The ones who have resigned ourseves to the fact we're alll gonna die anyway, so why care about the earth?

See? It is the power of knowledge. The saying 'knowledge is power' couldn't be truer.

So. Is knowledge evil? No.

It's what you do with the knowledge that makes it eveil or good. Or else, it's just that. Knowledge.

And here's what I think: God knew we were gonna screw up the world with knowledge, so he told Adam and Eve NOT NOT NOT to eat from the Tree of Knowledge. But they did. And we now come to our modern day, where we have screwed up the world with knowledge.

God was right in not wanting them to eat the fruit. He knew this would happen.

Contemplatively yours,

Sarah.

A few things you may or may not know about Sarah / 6:31 PM

A few things you may or may not know about Sarah.



1. She wouldn't be caught dead in a skirt or a dress.

2. She likes dresses and skirts.

3. She hates, hates sports.

4. She's actually good at some sports.

5. She is against any romance of any kind, because that's just gross.

6. She wants her happy ending, prince and all.

7. She is impulsive, volatile and ruled by emotion.

8. She is cool, calm and level-headed.

9. Sha hates when people get all cheena and when they say kawaii.

10. She doesn't mind when people act cheena...she thinks it's kinda cute.

11. She protests against harming the environment

12. She would die without the A/C in this climate.

13. She doesn't care what other people think about her.

14. She wants to have a clean, good, image.

15. She would rather be alone.

16. She'd die without human interaction.

17. She likes to be paid attention to.

18. She just wants to blend into the background.

19. She does not know who she is.

BUT

20. Her goal in life is to make a difference

Okay, so any questions? No? Okay, very good.



So I bet you're wondering something along the lines of, "OMG, does this girl have a personality disorder or what!?"

I can't honestly answer that, but I can assure you all of the above is true.

This is how:

Imagine a pile of Sarah-gloop. Yes, very good.
Now imagine a bunch of different shaped vases or containers.
Now pour Sarah-gloop into them.
Voila! Now Sarah is shaped like the container!

Okay, so now you think I'm not really sane. I'll elaborate.

All these vases/conatiners are like moulds from my friends. For example: If I am with a really cheena, twit-toking type friend, I behave like that too. I tell her,"Haizxz, no lah!", I type lyk dis.

And if it's a dress-hating, skater punk rock friend, I dress the way she does, no dresses, skirts, or flowers. When I am with her, I am totally against feminity.

Okay, maybe you're thinking, how is this possible?
But believe me, it's 100% possible. In fact, I've made a wonderful little career out of it.

And this would be perfectly fine, if not for the fact that the Sarah-gloop is so used to moulding herself to fit her friends, she had no shape whatsoever of her own.

So what does this Sarah-gloop do to keep herself from becoming a puddle on the floor? She just keeps switching vases depending on who she's with.

And now she realises she doesn't know what her shape is. And she can't get anywhere in someone else's borrowed form.
And so she resigns herself to the fact that the only way she'll make a difference in the world is in helping others get their happy endings.

The end.
Love, xoxoxo, from, sincerely, Sarah (whoever that really is.)

It's a cruel world, face up. / 10:05 PM

Hello.

Yes, I know I haven't posted in a while. It's like everytime I get on the computer I'm like, Hey, I have a good topic to blog about! And then I forget it. But I've decided I've procrastinated (Okay, JoAn, here's the definition: a verb meaning to put off; to delay until a later time) enough so I'm back on Blogger.



So anyway, my birthday was yesterday. It was a really anti-climatic event. Like months of build up (omg, 13!) and I get sick, don't have a party (not even a family gathering) and did I mention, GET SICK? I still am sick, actually. Anyway my mom made a cake and I self-decorated it. I'll post pictures when I find the time. Apparently, I'm good with icing.



So here's the fantastic, wonderful subject which convinced me to blog: Happy Endings.

Haha, no don't groan. Okay fine, groan. Because this blog post will end up in another argument.
I finished watching Camp Rock. I have to say it's better than High School Musical, but that's the highest compliment I can give.
Same cheesy boy-meets-girl, girl finally comes into the limelight, you-can-be-who-you-want-to-be,just-believe!!!
Uhhh-huuuh. Riiight.

Well, so anyway, I'm going to completely ruin my chances of ever being offered a Disney role by ridiculing happy endings.
Ready?
Go!
Happy endings don't ever happen in real life. Especialy not to people like me. People like me who just don't have the 'lookkeeee at moi!' aura. But who still want to make it. Like me. Do you know my part in it? I'm the first person to clap for the winners, the lucky ones. I'm the first one to tell them they deserve every bit. Am I jealous? YES. Extremely. Do I show it? No, because they're my friends. And that's just not what friends do.

The whole believing in yourself crap doesn't work either.
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can?
I'm sure.
This is why the Little Train that Could wouldn't survive in our real world.
He'd crash, die, be mocked.

I guess it's also a bit about what our happy endings mean for all of us. For me, it's what? Performing?Happiness? Publishing a bestseller? Fulfilling my lifelong dream? (of what??) Falling in love? Getting married?
I don't know.

Dreams don't come true. They come true for people who are lucky as all hell.

And some people are completely fine with being runners-up, the average class. The ones two steps away from the prize but looking the other way. And that's not me. I want my own magnificent fairytale happiness. Okay, so I'm dumb. But that's the truth. I do want to be happy and all that.

But it looks like I'm destined to live the life of the average who always tried too hard. They should write on my gravestone - Here lies Sarah, who was never really good enough.

I mean, I'm not satisfied to live my life like this, and yet I know I'll never make it anywhere. I'm those sad, pathetic never-gets-near-their-dreams type. That sucks.

There's nothing much I can do to change it can I? Unless I learn to tap dance, play the guitar and whistle showtunes all at the same time. Which I am not willing to do.

Margaret from Camp Rock was sort of like me, but YAYness of all YAYS! She got found! Now she's famous yadda yada yeah yeah.
Disney should make a movie about the girl who never got anywhere. That'd be kind of depressing, but they should be truthful to little girls who really want their happy endings. Might as well smack them in the face and say: DREAMS DON'T COME TRUE! and while you're at it, tell them Santa Claus is dead.
But it's true.
It's cruel, but true.
Ow. Truth stings.
Owowowow. Painfully.

xoxox
Sarah
(the one no one knows)

Whoops. / 9:50 PM

This is feels odd, posting two days in a row. I'm not normally that consistent.
Anyhoo.
I am here to tell you how I swore mutiple times in front of my vice principal.
So yes, there is finally going to be a post that does not include arguing a subject to death!

So.

Today is Tuesday.
I hate Tuesdays.
Things go wrong on Tuesdays.
ALWAYS.

Shall give you the timeline of events.

10:45 am, after break: Mrs Crathers (the permanent substitute) comes in to conduct class.
11:15-ish: We discuss ideas for our play.
11:40-ish: We do tableaux. (Still image theatre)
12:10: Mrs Crathers asks who's in charge. I sloooowly put up my hand. She gives me instructions that I should write down but I unfortunately can't, having no pen or paper.
12:15: Mrs Crathers dashes out the door with the vice-pricipal, who I THOUGHT was leaving too.
12:15 still: Am attempting to somewhat figure out what I'm supposed to do.
12:20: Getting frustrated because we can't reach a decision to do the peformance. Decide to move on to casting.
12:20: People are not listening. I voice-project. (Who am I kidding? I was screaming)
12:30: Finish casting for protagonist. Try to get people's attention by jumping up and down, waving my arms in the air and yelling,"HELLO!?!??!" Does not work. I voice project again.
12:40: Still have not sorted out roles properly. Looks at clock and says SHIT! very loudly. Realise I am theatre rep and have sworn in front of fellow classmates. Say,"Whoops. I just said shit."
12:45: Realise class is supposed to end now. Am thoroughly frustrated and angry. Cry,"DAMMIT!", which is followed by, "I'm supposed to let you off but we haven't done the casting!!!! SHIT." General intake of breath. Am so angry, cry,"I'm not a teacher so I can say shit. SHIT!"
12:50: Manage to somewhat sort out the roles. Releases class. On the way out, am met by two people quarrelling. "I should be the shopkeeper! You can be the assistant!" "NO, I want to be the shopkeeper! You be the assistant" etc. etc. Repeat until thoroughly annoying. Am approached by two who ask,"He should be the assistant, right?" Want to scream and thus yell in their faces, " I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!!"
1:00: Am met by theatre friends who ask," The vice-principal was in there! Did you see?" Turn a funny shade of white. Bangs head hard on metal pillar. Am saved by friends who tell me the Vice-Principal does not hate me.

Add a couple more, "DAMMIT, Will everyone just LISTEN for a while?"s and you get basically what happened today.
THE END.

To be honest, I'm not sure if I find this amusing, cool, or downright embarassing. Add the fact that I'm related to the principal and the fact that the vice-principal may tell the principal that I knew how to speak French well, and you have a disasterously horrible theatre lesson.

Man, I have to hand it to the teachers How do they manage to not scream everytime we don't shut up?

On a completely random note, tomorrow's SWAT at Kimberly's church. The theme's something about The Big Show. So either I'm going to be a random celebrity or an overbearing manager to Kimberly's celebrity.

Tell my why I don't like Tuesdays? (There's a song called Tell me why I don't like mondays about a shooting)

Love,
Sarah
xoxoxo

Illusions. / 9:25 PM

Hey,
I am back from school. As I am every weekday. And I am also extremely tired. Which I also am every weekday. And I also happen to have a whole pile of homework due by tomorrow which I just so happen to have not done. So why exactly am I blogging now? I have no idea.

Okay, right now I am really tempted to go: OMG OMG OMG OMG One of my favourite authors tagged my blog! TAGGED MY BLOG!

BUT.
I'll try to raise my thoughts to higher planes. Because authors are just like us. Except maybe not so unknown. Like us. Anyway, while I was debating whether or not to scream, I started to wonder why I wanted to scream in the first place.

I mean, authors are normal human beings, heck, Britney Spears is a normal human being. They all have a family, they all have to eat, they can't fly yadda yadda yeah.

So why this almost crazy hero worship thing? I mean what makes the 'OMGOMG' factor?
I realise I am not just talking about authors but famous people in general.

What makes someone dye their hair purple and style it a way that makes porcupines proud? Just because their favourite celebrity's doing it?
Do fans push and shove their way through barriers to touch their favourite celebrity because they think the famous-ness will rub off on them?
Or maybe it's more of a 'Wow, I TOUCHED something that's BEEN ON TV!'

Well whatever the reason, I'm sure celebrities are happy about it. No fan base = zero sales.

I mean I can relate to admiring someone for their work, like the way I admire C. Leigh Purtill, Meg Cabot, Jodi Picoult, Stephenie Meyer, Sarah Dessen etc. But worshipping? Really, worshipping? That's quite a far stretch. I just don't understand why people do that. I mean, why throw yourselves through a crowd where people just keep stepping on your toes and where you get random elbows shoved at you? Just so you see Christina Aguilera 3D?

I really don't get why. If anyone has a theory on this, feel free to tell me. In fact, I'd greatly appreciate someone explaining this funny human genetic quirk to me.

Anyway, in theatre, we had a substitute, Mrs. Crathers. Like brothers, but with a C. I'm not going to write about the lesson, but I will write about something she told us. She does drama therapy with mental patients and she told us about the story of this man who had an imaginary wife. He talks to her and loves her and everything. But he's on medication and the medication just makes his wife disappear. I think that's extremely sad, you know? I think he'd be happier without his medication. Yes, so after my homework, I'm going to write about that. A short monologue would be very interesting.

You know, I keep saying I'll post my writing here, but I never do.
Oh well.

With Love,
Sarah.
xoxoxo

/ 10:05 PM

These are the lyrics to Change by Sugababes, the first song that's playing on my blog now.
They mean a lot to me now.

If I could hold you close
Like you were never gone
If I could hear your voice
You'd tell me to be strong
But sometimesI just can't
I just don't understand
Why you had to go
Why you had to go
I guess I'll never know
Ain't it funny how you think
You're gonna be OK
Till you remember things ain't never
Gonna be the same again
The same again
Ain't it crazy how you think
You've got your whole life planned
Just to find that it was never ever
In your hand
In your hand
Change
If I could get to you
I'd be there in a minute
My world don't make no sense
Not without you in it
And sometimes
I just find
Can't say I
Don't know why
Why'd you have to go?
Why'd you have to go?
And leave me here alone
And leave me here alone
Ain't it funny how you think
You're gonna be OK
Till you remember things ain't never
Gonna be the same again
The same again
Ain't it crazy how you think
You've got your whole life planned
Just to find that it was never ever
In your handIn your hand
Change
You don't see it coming
Change
When the future comes knocking
It changed
It can make you or break you too
You'd just have to make it through(You'd just have to make it through)
Ain't it funny how you think
You're gonna be OK
Till you remember things ain't never
Gonna be the same again
The same again
Ain't it crazy how you think
You've got your whole life planned
Just to find that it was never ever
In your hand
In your hand
Change
Change, change
Change, change.

Mr G. / 7:30 PM

Hey, I know I haven't posted in a while; I'm sorry.

We recently had a cancer scare, well, my mum, actually. You know how she finished her chemotherapy for her cancer? Yeah so she went for a scan and one of her lymph nodes were enlarged and we were all afraid the cancer had spread. But it turned out it wasn't, so that's a huge sigh of relief.

Something else did happen though, although I will not say what it is, I will discuss my feelings.
Well. What can you say? Grief's a hard thing (Ha. I spent an entire hour in hysterics and then continued randomly bursting into tears.)

Well, yeah. But then I got home and I talked to God, and he proved to me that he is real. I was in the bathroom, sitting on the floor and crying, when I decided I probably couldn't continue this way, so I started to talk to God. At first, I wanted Him to tell *omitted* that everyone was really sad, but we'd move on. I wanted to tell him that we were all thankful for whatever time we'd spent with *omitted*. So it started out that way, then I felt like I really needed to PRAY, you know?

I was born into a Christian family, knew how to pray, stuff like that, but I think I basically banned God from my life the time when I needed Him most, which is when my mum got cancer. I knew all the right things to say, but my soul wasn't there, at all. I prayed but it was meaningless.

So this time, I really prayed. Really prayed.
And I confessed everything to Him, all my sins, and He sent down a message to me, in the form of Luyi's book, Rachel's tears, about the story about the first person to be killd at the Columbine High School shootings. Rachel predicted her death and kept saying this would be her last year. She also drew eyes crying 13 tears over a columbine flower. 13 people were shot at Columbine. In her diary, she wrote that she knew this life was only temporarily.

And that's what hit me, hard. This life isn't permanent. It's so short, and we're really gonna spend most of our time in heaven anyway. Heaven's the real 'life'. This is just like a dream. A transition, you know?

So, Ryan, if you're reading this, God exists, and that's why I was so happy you're embracing the christianism.

Yeah, so I basically pledged my life to God. God can use me anyway he wants to spread his gospel and his word to people. God is the saviour, and he exists. I offered my life to him so that he may do something with it, so that I may be a saviour to others.

I'm not even sad anymore, because *omitted*'s in heaven now, and the things that really mattered, he'll be able to see again. I'm just sad we never got to say a proper thank-you and goodbye.
And then, I got this feeling that God was there, and it made me so happy I started crying again.

I love God.
xoxo
God's faithful servant,
Sarah Frances

Open up a new world. Close the world. It never happened. / 8:27 PM

Hey,
After reading my last post I realised it basically radiating I-give-up vibes and I guess that was how I was feeling, but I don't want the I-give-up part to last. So I still think the chances of something great and wonderful suddenly happening to me is uh, none. But I can still hope right? And maybe my world won't collapse if I stop wishing.

But I digress. The point of this post was to talk about books. And me. Gosh, blogs are so self-centered. I try hard not to, but I guess a blog is to let others know about you. I also figured out the difference between my blog and blogs where people basically do the : I lurvvs ew honaaay! Gym buddy! thingy. My blog isn't for just my friends, it's for anybody who'd ever actually care to read it. Those blogs I find annoying are for their friends to read. That's why I don't understand them. My blog's for everyone...and me, I guess.

I seriously have to stop with the digressing bit. Anyway.
Back to books.

The thing I find so amazing about books is that you can just open up this book, learn about a whole new world, close the book, the end, just like that. And just like that, the story comes to an end. The character's life doesn't end there, of course, but for us it does. Not that we die, but that the character has just..stopped in our heads. This is a really weird comparison, but it's like when you take a cab. Open door, get in, get out.
You weren't a part of this particular world, then you became a part of it, then you simply stop being a part of it. The end.

And we can walk away thinking, oh, what a nice book.
I'm going to say this in the absract, but books are tailored to us. In our minds, books are for us. Subconciously, we always think that. Even though we sympathise with characters, share their joy, their pain, at the back of the mind, we think: this is just a book. No matter how well the author wirites the book, it's just a book. it didn't happen to me. But what if it did?

What if someone wrote a story about what happened to you? Is it real now? I mean there is almost always a possibility that what happened it the books may happen to you too someday, but would you really consider it real life? The answer is no. No, even if the exact same thing happened, you'd still think: oh, it's just a book. Someone else's life. Someone else's problem.
It's just fake. A book. A book. A book.

The chances are that what ever's been written about has happened to someone else, It's real for that person.

So now you wonder where the hell I'm going with this funny one-sided argument thing.

I'm hitting at the fact that books probably aren't fiction. They've probably happened to people across the world, like maybe in Cuba or somewhere. You never know, really.

So can we really safely say: 'It's just a book' anymore?

I've just finished reading 19 minutes by Jodi Picoult and it's about a high school shooting. As I was reading the book, I was thinking of the Colombine shootings. The emotions the mother of the shooter felt. Those feelings I am willing to bet, are pretty close to what the mothers of the two shooters felt, maybe are feeling now.

I can't fly. / 9:13 PM

For the past week or so, the central question that's been turning somersaults and doing straddle-jumps in my head is about my future.
You see, everywhere I turn I see people living average, normal lives. Like those aunties at the market. They are perfectly content to be buying chye sim on a bright Saturday morning. Or even my mum. She's happy here in Singapore raising two kids and living in a HDB flat.
The stupid thing is, I'm not. I'm not willing to stay here, grow up, be an average person and have about zero impact on the world.
I want to be someone. An author, a singer, an actress, whatever.
Last time, I used to think these childish dreams were possible.
But I think I've grown up. The chances of these things happening to me are zilch, nada, zip, none.
Maybe everyone started with these ambitions, to make a difference, but grew up and saw that these things were impossible. Maybe that uncle down the street wanted to be a minister, or a model. And then they grew up.
If that's true, I don't want to grow up. I'm not ready to give up those dreams yet. I still want to believe in true love, I still want to believe in happy-ever-afters. But it's getting harder and harder to.
I think there's still this eensy weensy bit inside of me who still believes dreams still can come true, and who wants her dreams to come true. And that bit is slowly dying.
And I think I also finally understood why I wanted to go to America so bad, why I wanted to live there.
I had this funny feeling people in America would understand me better in America. Because when I read books by American authors, they capture what I think a hundred percent. And because people in the book seem a whole lot deeper than people in Singapore.
I mean I could pour out my heart and soul into this blog and most people here would be like, eh? This girl's a bit odd. No actually, they'd think: This girl a bit xiao, ah.
And that would be it.
A whole soul searching, deep blog and they get that I'm a bit odd!
In America you see things like this all the time. They understand. Or so I hope they do. But if they don't who ever will?
The second reason why I had an obsession with America's because of the way characters always got their happy endings at the end of books. No matter what it was. They got it. And since I'm just not getting mine in Singapore, I just sub-consciously assumed that life in America is brighter and shinier than here.
But I'm just deluding myself. Everywhere is like here. Which brings me to the conclusion: There is nowhere to go. And no dreams to achieve.
There you go, that final missing bit that'll turn me into an auntie before your very eyes.
Ouch.
I feel like someone just pulled the carpet from under me, hard. No, screw that.
I feel like someone just pulled a flying carpet from under me. So now not only am I ambition-less, I can't even fly anymore. More like, I could never fly, period. Just a stupid trick my mind decided to play on me.
Maybe my blog posts are gonna turn into things like everyone else's.
Maybe the next blog post will go something like:
2dae played rugby.
damn slippy siah,
*insert name here* eu areeeeee my icecream frenzzzz.
we be icecream budddaes!
muacks, sarah.

Blog posts like that annoy me.
I just had another epiphany: I still have those stupid dreams, or just one stupid dream actually. And it's that someone would read my blog. Someone who would understand.
It's still just a stupid dream.

When I grow up, I want to be a housewife, work part time as a cleaner in OCBC.

-sarah.

Let's just call him Bob. / 8:20 PM

Why won't you leave me alone?
Everywhere I turn, you're always there.
Can't you take a hint?
I don't want you around.

You sit down at my table,
Act like you're my friend.
Even though we both know.
You're far, far from that.

You trail me when I go somewhere
Pretend that it's natural.
Even though we both know,
It's because there's no one else.

I'm sorry you have no friends.
I'm sorry you're alone.
I'm sorry that you're reduced to this.
I'm sorry you have to pretend.

But here's the truth,
You deserve that at most.
It's time to set the record straight.
And bring things to a close.

You like me, or so you think.
but I find you annoying.
I'm nice to you just because
I don't want to be mean.

I wish I had the courage
To tell you to your face.
But still I'm bound by my morals,
To never be so mean.

So there's the truth
That you'll probably never see.
The thing is that you like me,
but to me you're not far from enemy.

Feeling better. / 10:05 PM

Hello. I'm back! Yes, yes, I'm not in such a bad mood as my last post.
I'm actually quite ashamed of my last post. Tsk tsk Sarah! Self-pity is not a solution!
I very nearly deleted the last post on hindsight - it made me seem like some immature 4 year old. Which is not the ideal image I want to be portrayed as. But I didn't want to, mainly because I swore I was going to be completely honest and completely honest means not deleting posts.
So it's still there. It'll probably remain there until I decide to spring clean my blog (read: when I get bored enough)
Let's do an update!
So, Arts Fest is Over. With a capital O. I'm not sure if I'm happy or sad.
It was a huge success, save for that EENSY WEENSY misstep on my part.

Oh well. Thank you guys so much for all that encouragement and all that support after my little freak-out, hysterical episode. You guys really helped to comfort me.

I got messages from Viraj, Fayth, Gwen and Anjali. Viraj, Gwen and Anjali - carivorous bunny-less. Fayth- carnivorous bunny galore.
See, I was really scared to go to school today because I was scared I was going to get teased or picked on. So Fayth said she'd get me a carnivorous bunny. I thought she was kidding, butno, sh brought something wrapped up in red paper t school. I unwrapped and saw my first carnivorous bunny. It's kinda small, but do not underestimate it. I'l take a picture of it when I'm free and post it here, okay? Actually, when I get around t posting pictures here, you guys will get a whole flood of images. really.
So anyway I'm thinking of changing my blogskin again.


xoxo
Sarah =)

Arts fest. And how much I hate me. / 9:53 PM

Guess.
No, really, guess.

Can you tell I'm in a pity party mode?
It involved running from my Animal Farm performance and then having hysterics in the toilet.
I made a pact to be completely truthful on this blog and here's the truth: I WRECKED THE PLAY!!!!!

Yes, I did.
gaaaaahhh.
This is a pretty random post. No, actually it's not.
I think someone's rubbing their hands together gleefully and saying,"Let's see, how can we torture Sarah today?" Cause it really feels like it.

Plague her with pimples and facial hair. *check*
Give mum and brother cancer *check*
Give Dad scary intestinal problem *check*
Give maternal grandmother a tumour *check*
Give paternal grandmother eye problems and hip problems *check*
Give paternal grandfather a stroke * check*

Oh WON-DER-FUL.

Let's just add the most embarassing thing ever to happen in front of a live audience.

*kapow*
A miserable girl.

I'm in a full, all out pity party today.
BLAH.
I hate feelig like this.
My parents ( well, my mum) brought my brother and me out for a 'celebratory day out'. More like a 'poor Sarah, let's bring her out and make her feel better' GAH.
We ate suhi and went to the library.
AND the optician gave me the supercalifragilisticexpellidocious news that my degree has increased to 350. Oh the JOY.
I bought a Jodi Picoult book, caloled The Pact, about a suicide pact.

I'll go wallow in self pity now.

Sarah.

The Ideal Environment / 9:56 AM

Yes, I know this is really random, but I'm hanging around my house waiting for 10:15 to come so I can go to school. So I decided to describe my ideal place. =)

Let's start with my favourite things to do...
Hmm, let's see, ideal environment for reading: On a wooden deckchair on a porch that looks out into a field or forest, one beautiful summer's day. With ice-cold lemonade, and my dog next to me. AND NO DISTRACTIONS. I get pretty angry when pwople disturb me when I'm reading. When I'm reading a current book, I get so posessive of it that people aren't even allowed to touch it. Even worse is when someone's reading over my shoulder.

Ideal environment for writing: On the same porch in that same chair with my music on. AND THE LEMONADE. ( can you tell I'm sorta thirsty right now?) I can't write properly without music. I need piano ballad songs, or acoustic songs when I write, mostly. It's odd, but I think rockers playing riffs and some guy bashing a poor set of drums out is not a very good environment for writing. Okay, it may be for some people, but definitely not for me.
Rachel Yamagata, Chantal Kreviazuk, some Avril Lavigne, Vanessa Carlton, Michelle Branch...yeah, those sort of songs.

Ideal Environment for scrap booking: On a marble floor(no carpeted floors, I'd kill them with the glue and glitter) with music. Any kind. And a glass of lemonade. Oh, and all the necessary supllies, like buying out the whole of Art Friend and Spotlight =)

Ideal environment for sleeping: On a huge canopy bed, with white sheets and huge fluffy pillows. With air-conditioning. Unless I'm in America. Then: heaters!

Moving on to not-so-pleasant things: Studying.
A desk with absolutely no distractions (I ge distracted too easily) and I'd be studying English although I really should be studying my Math. But I much prefer English. Which is basically the reason I'm flunking my math. hmm.

Ummm.... can't think of anything important enough...oh!

Ideal place to be with friends: at someone's home =) or watching a movie (preferrably Twilight)

Ideal place to be playing guitar/singing: On that wonderful porch. Or in the forest, where no one can hear me. =)

I can draw two conclusions from this: I am thirsty and : I NEED THAT PORCH! AND THAT FOREST!
Yeah okay, I'll go now. =)

With love,
Sarah.

The point of relationships. / 10:28 PM

Well.
As you can probably tell, I'm feeling philosophical today. Actually not so much philosophical as argumentative. Or actually, I think it's contemplative.

Don't laugh or anything but I've decided to make this post about commitment in a relationship. No seriously, if you laugh, I will kill you at midnight with my ebony tresses.
I'm feeling seriously whacko today. I spent ten minutes before our math test ( whiiiich I screwed, surprise, surprise.) scaring Fayth and laughing like a psychotic killer just before he kills.

I swear if Fayth'd moved any further away from me, she'd be right through the wall of classroom. Which wouldn't be good, considering that our classroom's on the fourth storey and she's sitting next to the window. Yeah, fallbangsplatow.

Anyway. Back to my topic. I just realised something today. I mean everyone knows that there are a lot of romantic relationships happening in my school. But tell them that so-and-so is their boyfriend/girlfriend and they will SHOOT you.

And then, trying to save your life, you say: "But you hold hands and everything!"
Which probably isn't be smart. And they will probably shoot you anyways.
So really, what is it about this label "Boyfriend/girlfriend" that every one's so opposed to. I mean, that is essentially what you are, right?

Personally, I think it's because it's the lack of freedom that comes with that title, like say "Yesterday I saw you with ____ instead of ____. But I thought he was your boyfriend!"
I mean, if you don't publicly declare that you are officially dating, then you can say," He's not my boyfriend what. I have my freedom and a life too, okay?". But if you do declare you're dating, what are you supposed to say then? "Oh..uh..uh...weeeell....technically...uh. welljustdon'ttellhimokay?bye."? Somehow that doesn't seem very smart to me. And anyway, isn't this the same thing that happens in marriage too? When people get cold feet, I'm pretty sure it isn't because they're scared of the wedding dress. It's because marriage is so final, and they probably only want only one marriage, and they probably don't want multiple divorces.

So is that really it? Are the people really just scared to call themselves a couple because they're scared of the repercussions if anyone of them is seen with someone else? Or is it something else?
I don't think I'll actually find out anytime soon, since I have no plans to start dating in the near future.
Dating at my age is just so stupid. It's like, "I like you, you like me, we go out to macs okay?".
They're not serious about each other and they're not old enough to judge what is serious and what's not.
I mean, I don't even trust myself enough to start dating at this age. Come on, why is everyone so eager to grow up? If I could I'd stay a child. Life's so much easier. Who wants to complicate their lives with relationships at this young age? I'm quite fine with being friends with guys. Anyway, I'm a firm believer of being friends with a guy way before you even consider going out with him.

This post seems rushed somehow.
Anyway, to all those jerks/dipwads out there who think my blog posts are odd, I'm sorry, but GO AWAY. My blog's for me to express myself and if I feel like expressing myself through topics, then so be it.

oh, P.S, I'm getting Breaking Dawn tomorrow! Which means I will probably not post. I'll be too busy reading.
P.P.S. I have a chinese letter writing test tomorrow. Wish me luck. The last time I wrote a letter for an assignment I got a wonderful mark of 9/20.
Okay, I have to go now.

xoxoxo
Sarah.

Arts Fest. And other assorted nonsensical ramblings. / 11:49 AM

Hey, you.

Yes, you.

Are you coming for the Arts Fest?

Oh? You're performing?

Funny, so am I.

What are you doing?

I'm in the theatre faculty.

We're doing Animal Farm.

I'm Squealer.

The tickets are all booked out.

A full house on every night.

I'm scared.

Don't watch me, okay?

Give away your ticket or something.

Or just don't come.



I'm sorry, that's the ramblings part of my post.

Now for the rest in prose.

Yes, Animal Farm is sold out. ALL FOUR PERFORMANCES. ALL. I'm so freaked out, I feel like burying my face into my dog's fur and then never emerging. Why oh why does Squealer have to talk so much? Why can't he be one of the ensemble cast and have one line like," Oink." or something? Why does he talk so much?!

As you can see, I'm losing it.

Not that having a math test on Monday and then a Chinese test on Tuesday helps. Blaaaaahh.

I'm seriously going crazy. Today I woke up singing Journey to the Past from Anastasia the movie.

And we have touch rugby this term. Like I need a busted ankle to crawl on in theatre. Since I routinely pull my thigh muscles after running even though I stretch so much, picking up boxes is alos probably not the best thing to do. But what choise do I have? Got to grin and bear it.

Oh dear, I now have a mental image of myself as the Joker with that grin on his face. I went to watch the Dark Knight and it was seriously the awesomest movie I've seen Heath Ledger in. Sad thing was that he died. Well, that movie was seriously creepy. And deep. Oh gosh, who would've thought that a comic book character could hold so much meaning? and Heath Ledger was good. So creepily good.

But I digress.

Back to the touch rugby. I guess it's good we're playing touch rugby and not rugby. Think about it: squishbangstompOW. Very dangerous. Not to mention extremely painful. Not that touch rugby isn't violent. But the worse thing that could happen is that you'd get hit over the head by the ball. Or get squished by some over-eager runner trying to get a touchdown. No tackles. No scrum.

Let me sum up my life in one grammatically-incorrect sentence (or word, really, depends on how you see it): homeworkmathchineseintegratedhumanitiesandsocialsciencesliteraturesciencetheatreanimalfarmrugbystress.

Actually, I think it's a word. Oh who cares.

And I have to do Welcome to My Playground too, which basically, I have to write a bunch of poems and short stories as a reaction to Bela Bartok's pieces for and then let someone else read them, because I'll be doing Animal Farm at the same time.

Oh wonderful.



Take a deep breath.

Swallow your fears

Face your problems.



Words

Easier said than done.

I can't breathe.

I can't swallow.

I can't face them.

They're too big.

They're everywhere.

And they're closing in on me
Tighter, tighter.
Closer, closer.
Claustrophobia kicks in.

With love,
Sarah

Psychic bobbleheads are scaring me. / 6:49 PM

Yes. I know my title is weird.
But the oddest thing happened to me.
You know how in the middle of my dreams I get a flash of a picture and within the next month or so the picture happens? Okay, you probably didn't, but now you do. It's funny, really.
So the following happens before class:
Me: *bouncing on chair because Fayth said it was fun* Hey, you're right this is kinda OHHHH!!!!
Fayth: *confused* Huh?
Me: OHHHHH
Fayth: Sarah don't die! (or something to that effect)
Me: Sorry...I was wondering why the picture in my dream was bouncing. *laughs* You know what? In my dream I dreamt there was a temple out there.
Fayth: *big wide eyes* There is a temple out there...
Me: What colour is it????
Fayth: Well, umm yellow?
Me: Don't say there's red in it!
Fayth: There is.
Me: *faints* *dies* (something like that)
SOOO.
I'm Fayth's bobblehead. The type that you shake and their head goes up and down, and I'm not psychic. TAH DAH. Title explained.
Still quite freaked out my it.
Oh well.
Buh bye.

xoxo
Sarah.

Odd quiz, Take A Bow / 9:34 PM

Don't shoot me! It is NOT my fault my blog is (was, since I'm reviving it, hopefully) dead.
School's been busy. Really busy.
Theatre's been stressful. Really stressful.

Oh well, at least we've painted the things for the Animal Farm set. Whichis, you know, good. Sort of. As a result of that painting incident, I got paint in my hair. And on my legs. And arms. And feet. And clothes. And face, thanks to Krish who splashed the palette at me with purple wall paint. WALL PAINT.
Even though we did that last Saturday, I swear I still have red paint somewhere in my hair. Seriously, how long does it take for it to COME OFF?
Aaaannyyyywaaaayy, I found this quiz on Nikki's blog. It's so cool. My anawers are even cooler. hahaha.

RULES:1. Put Your iTunes/Windows Media Player/ETC on Shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS.
4. Put any comments in brackets after the song name.
5. Put this on your journal.


1. If someone says, “Is this okay?” You say? Supergirl. Uh, okay....
2.How would you describe yourself? Don't Let Me Get Me. Okay, I know I don't like myself, but that's freakily accurate.
3.What do you like in a girl/guy? A Love That Will Last. HAHAH. This is true. Heartbreak sucks.
4.How do you feel today? Lucky. Hmm...I suppose you could say that.
5.What is your life’s purpose? Because You Live. That is scary...Because you live's lyrics go: Because you live and breathe, because you made me believe in myself when nobody else could help, because you live, my world, has twice as many stars in the sky. Because you live. I live.
6.What is your motto? Let It Be. AAARRRGGHH. Why is everything blardy FITTING?
.7. What do your friends think of you? Be Be Your Love. Uh..I don't think that's true.. Seeing as most of my friends are STRAIGHT girls.
8. What do you think of your parents? Hey Mama. ARGHH OMGEEE. Why is it ALL MAKING SENSE?
9.What do you think about very often? Part of Your World. Uhh, I think of being part of someone's life?
10.What is 2 + 2? Kiss Me. Uh. Sure.
11.What do you think of your best friend? No One . HEY! that is NOT true!
12.What do you think of the person you like? 4ever. Aww, so sweet =)
13.What is your life story? Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Hmm.
14.What do you want to be when you grow up? Everybody's Fool. Uh, no thank you.
15.What do you think of when you see the person you like? Here Comes The Sun. HAHA. I like this quiz.
16.What will you dance to at your wedding? Love Song. Scary scary scary quiz.
17.What will they play at your funeral? Reaching for Heaven. SCARY SCARY SCARY quiz.
18.What is your hobby/interest? Dance Dance. Not really, I like to dance though.
19.What is your biggest fear? Candyman. Oh right sure. "ARGH! The bigbad Candyman's coming to get me!!" I am so sure.
20.What is your biggest secret? Black Roses Red. UH. I have a superposwer? to turn black roses red?
21.What do you think of your friends? Family Portrait. huh? Family portrait is a song about divorce.
22.What will you post this as? Take A Bow. Don't ask.

/ 6:50 PM

Helloo. Decided to do one of those personality memes thingies. I got it from Bzoink. I'm not sure how this will help in self-realization, or anything.

Be 4'1 or 7'9"?
4'1, because I don't mind being small...I mind being too tall, you'd be like the person whose head sticks up waaaay above the rest. Which would make you all the more noticeable.
Live without music or live without T.V.?
I can't live without music, so no T.V.'s less cruel.
Lose your legs or lose your arms?
Lose my legs, because then I wouldn't have to run! Haha, no I'm kidding. I'd still rather lose my legs because you're very dependent on you arms for flipping the pages of a book, writing and playing the guitar. All things I will die without.
Have a beautiful house and ugly car or an ugly house and beautiful car?
A beautiful house! I don't really plan on driving a lot, anyway...I'm a road hazard. My car would be ugly anyway because I'm sure the law will make me put a sign that says "Slow down when approaching, unstable vehicle (and driver)" on the back of anything I drive.
Be blind or deaf?
Umm...be deaf. As much as I love music, I love reading more. And plus, I'm so directionally challenged, I'd keep walking into the same wall repeatedly.
Live in Antarctica or Death Valley?
Antartica. The Death Valley just creeps me out, and plus I'm good at handling extreme cold.
In a fire, save a sibling or a stranger?
There's no difference to me. A life is a life. To be selfish, it's more of a mesure of which will impact you the most, like you'd feel hell of a lot worse if you'd let your sibling die, but it's selfish, because the stranger's family will hurt more.
Find true love or 1 million dollars?
Find true love, definitely. Money can't buy happiness.
Always have to say everything on your mind or never speak again?
Always have to say whatever I think. I almost always do that anyway.Almost. But there are a lot of secrets...Hmmm...
Be gossipped about or never talked about at all?
Never be talked about at all...Not being known is better than having spiteful stuff spread about you.
Publish your diary or make a movie on your most embarrassing moment?
Make a movie on my most embarassing moment, definitely. My diary has ALL my embarassing moments AND secrets. No way. Nuh-uh.
Be stranded on an island alone or with someone you hate?
With someone I hate. I need human interaction or else I'll go crazy.
Forget who you were or who everyone else was?
Forget who I am, because I'd still have people to trust and they'd help me remember me.
Give up your computer or your pet?
THE COMPUTER. Give up COFFEE? Are you crazy?
Be the sand castle or the wave?
The wave crashes down on the sancastle, and it's forgotten forever. The wave.
Run the mile or give a speech for English?
I like English. And public speaking(well, sort of)
Be an actress/actor in a big movie or the director?
Actress.
Write a mystery or a poem?
Mystery. I do that anyway.
Be forgotten or hatefully remembered?
Forgotten. No way do I want to be known as the bitch.

My personal shooting star. / 2:41 PM

Hey!
I'm in a much better mood than my last post, so now I can apologise for not updating sooner. But then again, I could write my biggest secrets on my blog and no one would realise because no one reads the posts anyway.
So anyway,now I'm going to write about my personal shooting star: COFFEE the Silky Terrier cross something-or-other.
But before I start, I'll write an update about what's been happening. Arts Fest for SOTA is in 6 weeks and everyone's in a mad frenzy trying to sort things out. And guess which faculty has done the least so far? Yes, the Theatre Faculty. I'm not blaming anyone, we just need to get things sorted out. Immediately.
Okay, okay, moving on to my beloved dog.
Coffee was born on the 22nd of November, 2006 at a pet shop. He was bought by some girl who neglected to mention to her parents that she was getting a dog. Hre parents made the dog stay outside. This continued for a few months. One day, the rehomer (person who helps to get dogs adopted) spotted Coffee outside and wanted to take Coffee away. She spoke with the girl's maid and the maid revealed the girl had had hamsters, but were all dead due to the fact that the girl always forgot to feed them. Rehomer got very worried. Spoke with girl and persuaded her to give the dog up. Dog, then 7 months old, stayed at Mutts and Mittens (an adoption centre) for a while. Adoption notices were posted on websites, and My mum and I decided to adopt him. Ta-daaa! He's now 1 year and 7 months old, I think.

I love my dog.
Peace.
Sarah.

Only human. That's just stupid. / 6:25 PM

Hello. I am very very angry today. Well, now.
I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood to apologise for not posting regularly.
BECAUSE.
Humans suck.
We are the worst, pondscum, dirt of the earth. I'm really mad.
Here are my reasons :

1. Humans are destroying our environment
2. Genetic Modification.
3. Animal cruelty
4.Wars

These are the main reasons, so far. But there are so many more.
I'll start with the first one.
Humans.
We know we're destroying the earth with all these cars and pollution and deforestation and stuff.
Do you want to know the reasons behind this?
Because it makes tings more comfortable for us. So we get more food. we.we.we.we.we.we.we.we. You get the idea. And so what is getting the brunt of all our actions? Our environment. The animals around us. The world. If you think about it, humans are basically screwing up the world.
And, as an added plus, you wanna know what? Most of us can't be bothered. Sure, we're trying now. NOW. Now is sliiightly too late. JUST SLIGHTLY TOO LATE.
I'm pissed off at humans. This includes me. Gah. Humans suck.

Before I get any more worked up, I'll continue to point number two.
Genetic Modification.

I don't know. I don't know why humans want so much power. we're manipulating the environment, so that it suits our needs.
Sure, you say the if we gentically modify animals to carry human organs, we'll be saving lives. Human lives. Human lives that are taken naturally, most of the time, like from liver failure or a heart attack. So, let's look at what happens if we transplant the organ. Oh, whoops, guess what?! The animal dies. UN-naturally. If the human life was meant to be taken naturally, than why are we even trying to fight nature at the cost of another innocent animal's life?
UN-answerable, isn't it?

Point 3. Animal Cruelty.
This is actually the main reason I'm pissed off at the current time. I just saw a horrible video on a pig farm. Where they were being cruelly killed.
I shall spare you the morbid details. You do NOT want to know. And of course, there's also the video about the animal skinning. I shall not elaborate.
Humans ARE animals. No, screw that, humans are freakish monsters.
But we started off as animals. Greed made us more.
We are so sruel to animals, making out that we're smarter than them.
I think we are so, so far off the target on that particular ssubject. ANTS are smarter than us, for the plain simple fact, they aren't destroying our world. WE are the stupidest animals....for that I am ashamed.

4. Wars
If the above wasn't enough, we kill each other. Forgetting, of course, that in the midst of it all, so much more gets destroyed. Over what? LAND.

In ending, I say this: I'm trying to think of a solution to these problems...but I'm 13....I know that doesn't mean anything, but I hope that people actually start to think aout solutions too. We need to reverse what we've done. Immediately.

Rhinoceroses and other random things. / 4:20 PM

Okay, I'm back!

I guess I'll tell you how the Rhinoceros performance went. I was slightly late (well, I thought so) so I ran all the way to the performance. And then it turned out I was early, which was good because I got good seats.
As the audience filled up, I began to feel really under-dressed ( if there's even such a thing). Everyone (or well, it seemed like everyone) was dressed up really fancy in dresses and updos. I slid further down in my seat in my jeans and new top.
At least the performance was good. I think it was about the definition of normal and ordinary. I'll shorten things down for you. After the whole world had been turned into rhinoceroses, the main character, who was always against being a rhinoceros, battled with himself if he was going to stay "normal" and human, or normal, like the rest of the world. It was really cool.
Okay, now I'll write about my grandfather's birthday dinner. It was at Guildhouse. The first thing I noticed as I walked into the venue was the cool breeze. It was a rooftop dining thing, and we chose our food to barbeque (no, we didn't do the barbequing ourselves...). I loved the atmosphere up there. It was complete with two guitarists who were playing and singing, although I think they could have benefitted from a few microphones. I think my grandfather was really happy...He kept smiling.
Yeah, okay i have to go, because my brother is complaining and trying to get me off the computer. Also, I have to go learn my Animal Farm lines for theatre. I'm Squealer =).


xoxoxo
Sarah.

/ 4:45 PM

Hey!

Well, that picture just about sums up how I feel now... Contemplatively bored. With an envelope in my hand.

Yes, with an envelop in my hand, cos it's my grandfather's birthday. So, I shall state it here even though he's never going to actually read this:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YEH YEH!!!

Okay, I have to go now because we have to go for the birthday celebrations.... Oh and the weirdest phone conversation happened today. Natheniel ( my cousin) called ( I think)

Nat: Can I speak to Tim(my brother) please?

My mum ( thinking he said tyen): wrong number, sorry.

*Hangs up*

Phone rings.

Me: Hello?

Nat: Can I speak to Timmy please?

Me: He's in tuition.

Nat: oh okay, nevermind.

*end call*

He must be so confused, calling the same number twice with two different responses. And I'm not even sure that it was Nat. Oh well, we're gonna see him at the celebration tonight so I'll ask him.

I'll write about yesterday's performance when I'm free...

bye!

xoxoxo

Sarah

( at a later date: Yes, it was Natheniel, and he was very, very confused.)

Self-pity / 4:24 PM

Hey...I'm back..
After almost killing myself finding a new blogskin because my nice sweet one with buttons and flowers disappeared under a mass of photobucket notices, I decided to stick with my old skin.
Oh, and I finished New Moon. So, I have approximately 70 days to wait til Eclipse comes out in paper back. (Limited allowance = Cheap-er books)
And then I wait til Breaking Dawn becomes paperback too.
I hate not being able to afford books when they come out. Publixhers must do this so that people who urgently want to read their books have to pay high prices for the books. This sucks. They have to take into consideration the students who live on a meagre allowance!
Oh and I gave up on my writing blog. It has approximately, lets's see, uh, ONE poem in it.
So I give up. I'll just post whatever literary stuff I come up with here. On my blog.
I began a new story again. But like the rest of my billion and one stories, I am so, so stuck. I think it's because I never really think through the storyline, I just pick up my pen and just write. If I ever get round to finishing at least one chapter, I'll post it up here. I have no idea why I do this.. It's not like my writing is superbly wonderful or something. Actually, I suck at writing. So, why am I even doing this? And why am I even BLOGGING? Like anyone reads this.
Okay, I think I'll go wallow in self-pity for the rest of the day ( not like there's much of it left, it's already 4:30pm.) Or maybe use that new guitar chord handbook. Or play NFS (need for speed) Carbon. In case you didn't get that, it's a racing game. Which I suck at. Or I'll re-read New Moon and Twilight for the 8735654th time.


Today is just one of those days, I guess.

xoxoxo Sarah

Twilight / 3:46 PM

Hey!

I feel sorta crazy..
And not to mention happy.
I have no idea what I'm doing on the computer when I have a new book to read....I finally bought New Moon by Stephenie Meyer. I have Twilight already.
Yeah, anyway so I went to the Popular at Toa Payoh to exhange a defective pen, and got told off in Chinese by a cashier for not checking if the pencil worked in the first placed. I was ABOUT to tell her that I thought that there was no lead in it and so I didn't know that it was defective and that opening a box of lead and putting it into a pencil in the middle of the store didn't seem like a smart thing to do. Mainly because they'd kick me out of the store. I was ABOUT to. But then, I realised that my chinese vocabulary did not encompass such a wide range of words.
So I just went, " Dui Bu Qi" which is essentially, sorry in chinese. These are the type of moments I wish I'd learnt my chinese better.... really!
I have seriously no idea why I'm writing this when I could be reading New Moon. It's seriously taunting me, sitting in the corner like that.
So I hope you guys know the pain I went to to bring this piece of news to you!
Yeah, right. Like anyone actually reads my blog. Like anyone even bothers. And what about that anyway? Aren't blogs supposed to be narcissistic? It's essentially a 'come read about me and my super fab life!' isn't it?
Oh well. I shall give in to temptation. And read the book. Oh wait... I have to update my writing blog too... oh well.

xoxo
Sarah

What did I just do....? / 4:47 PM

I think I am going crazy. I can't believe I just deleted all my past posts. I just deleted all my posts. !?!?!?!

Oh well, I guess it gives me more space to post now. Oh and did I mention I just created a new blog? (Duh, I didn't. This is my first post.... -.- I am so dumb sometimes...)

Well, yeah anyway, It's for all my story stuff. You know, random bits of text that I write. It's gonna include poems etc. Who knows, this way, I may actually be able to finish off a story! But there's a downside, though.... you guys will have to read from bottom post up if you really want to understand whatever I'm writing and follow the story.

I'll post a link at the links page and I'll try to write something in it later on ( It's currently embarassingly empty and plain). ( The story blog, I mean. Although this one only has only one post in it.. Oh well.)

xoxoxo

Sarah.