Is opinion fact? Rephrasing it, it would read as is any one of my opinion a fact?
Snort. Any loud-mouthed idiot (aka me) can easily tell you no. What i think definately isnt true, well, at least sometimes only. Haha. So when I say i think that something's up, it doesnt exactly mean something's up. But you have to listen, you've got to listen to my opinion and THINK IT OVER AND THINK IT THROUGH.
Which is why i HATE the automatic defense mechanism of denial. Shit you, DENIAL. I'm making my thoughts known, not declaring the defination of an element (or etc)!!! I dont expect you to agree with my opinion, but here's the thing. I'm a stubborn-headed old mule and usually my opinion stays, till I sense that the paradigms have shifted, or least when I felt like you WERE LISTENING, not PSEUDO-LISTENING (dont fight with me on this one, I actually learn about it). What irks me most is denial, denial, denial and explanations and defensive statements and coldness.
SHEESH. And from the beginning I clearly stated I had absolutely no ill will; I was merely sharing my thoughts about you with you.
Oh, you know what? Whatever. Whatever floats your boat- pushes mine away.
When i am upset, i store it. When i get pissed, I keep it in. So its all fine and dandy, eh?
But one day, when i get enraged, Im going to make sure your face gets a slap like no other, to get yr stinking hell attitude proper. You'd better keep it in check.
So, how does it feel to read a post like this about yourself? Oh pray, do tell.
i sat in the front with my mouth gummed close with fatigue and apprehension. usually, or at least in this particular situation, before, i would have shot my mouth off at everything and enjoy debating over serious issues like who's mahjong skills are better and kenny's singing ability.
was it Me to be the wallflower in the conversation, or was it me, just being merely me?
question is, how do we define our real selves? is our real selves the one that we grew up being comfortable with? or would it be the one that emerges in social situations? the thing is, i suppose we would never know, and until we find a balance and slip into that self comfortably, then maybe that would be the answer.
from now till then, ill probably be sitting on the outskirts, guarded. something that i know doesnt bode well for my social behaviour, but hey, we'll see how it goes yeah?
for now, my immense lack of proper rest will override any other need and i would naturally just stone in a corner myself.
On Friday, after i forced mother to go grocery shopping with me out of sheer boredom, we spied chess mooncakes as we were struggling our way home(with the multitudes of groceries of course).
Honestly i had no recollection of what prompted me to tell mother "Haha, if only Gonggong were here now, he'd love them man!" She agreed with a rather wistful smile as I felt a slight pang in my heart.
I want him back, now. ----
On a different note, after GI2, i've been potpot-ing quite a bit. With lots of noise and smell too. I dont know why,
Gastric incident number 2 occurred, not that many knew about gastric incident 1. but i just thought i would blog it so that i would recall having such an eventful teenhood.
The fateful day had to be a monday, of all days -2nd October 2006.
Gastric Incident 2 (henceforth known an GI2) kicked off with me having sharp pains in my upper abdomen from 4pm, through lessons and all the way through netball training. So as usual i was being all gungho about it and went on my normal routines in lessons albeit with a grimace and being doubled over almost throughout. Sheesh, and you'd thought i wouldnt be stupid enough to attend netball. But i did, miserably, and called my dad to fetch me afterwards as th pain got unbearable. As you know, my dad isnt the fastest driver around, and not the steadiest too. By the time i actually reached the foot of my block, i was way too weak to move, but instead flung the freaking door open and stuffed my fingers down my throat. Lo and behold, haill tinted watercooler water, watermelon bits and salmon chunks. GRR, salmon chunks, the conspirator of it all. So my induced vomiting goes on while by now, mother and sri had come down to watch me personify the merlion, while my dad stood beside them with a really really worried expression. You would think he was worried about me, but i really suspected he was worried about how the stink was gonna stick to the wheels of his beloved. Well i dont know. haha.
Anyways, with much effort i made my way to some lame clinic nearby and had to wait a total of what, 45 mins to see the doctor and collect my medicine. And the time i spent in the doctor's office? 10mins. What the hell right; to think when i was moaning in pain to my mother and asking why it was taking so long, the RECEPTIONIST told me to wait cause they had to measure stuff out, amidst joking and making small talk with her collegue. Seriously. Well you know what, Lame Clinic? Your lousy medicine didnt work. l laid in my bed clutching at my tummy as i drifted in and out of sleep in my stinky netball outfit all the way from 12am to 3am!! That was even after dearest mother stuffed me full of pills, ugh. I seriously ate more than 10 pills within 2 hrs man. Wicked crap.
Then i eventually got shipped to SGH. Unlike GI1, it wasnt so bad that i needed a wheelchair. But before i left for the hospital, i actually took a bath and changed into my favourite yellow tshirt and rainbowy pjs. Yes, PJS! :D:D This time round i was quite happy to be in the hospital. Not because the smell gets me high, but because i was in comfy pjs and no one else was!! hahaha :D yay. Anyways, the 3 observation hours were never better. But it didnt deter the fact that what, 3 injections and a horrid IV drip hurt and felt odd running up my arm. :(
So the doctor says its an infection, whereby it started off as a food poisoning case, then escalated to gastric reflux. Shrug. No idea, just gonna pop the pills if i do remember. -----
ok that was long. Anyways, i was just thinking how i actually have no time to breathe/have a life. I get so fatigued and mentally drained that even at late hours my mind hums on about the countless assignments i have due, but my body just halts any academic process i attempt.
Henceforth i am here, blogging bout my GI2. Which brings me to say: so sms me, just cause i feel like saying so. HAHAHA. If you dont have my number, welllll ask me! But it doesnt mean i'd give it. Err anyways if you are able to finish this post and am still interested in what i have to say, i really applaud you. Cause seriously, you have a tad too much time on your hands.
personality traits that MAKE ME WANT TO SLAP SOMEBODY(S)
STUPIDITY!!!! ARGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! seriously?! seriously seriously seriously? this is a situation that involves you forking over almsot a thousand bucks and you dont even bother to read instructions, rules and regulations and emails?! seriously. do your homework, ask around to get some knowledge and QUIT SMS-ING ME TO DOUBLE CONFIRM EVERYTHING. your new to all this, well guess what? SO AM I.
for a serious lack of a better word, KAPO-NESS!!!! i chose to keep my choice of uni and course of study secret from some people. honestly is it hard to ask me properly, directly? ok granted i seem to be playiny coy and refuse to answer. SO CANT YOU RESPECT MY DECISION AND QUIT PEPPERING ME WITH PSEUDO-CLUEDO QUESTIONS? oh HA-DI-HA. so every conversation's an interrogation session. stop it asap or either ill fuck with yr head or ill fucking YELL YOUR HEAD OFF.
thats it. repressed anger and immense stress(no thanks to procrastination) can do me nuts.
