FUCKING PISSED!!!

YES!! I AM FUCKING PISSED!!! AND I CAN TYPE IN CAPS FOR ALL I WANT!!

This is like the first time in who knows how long that I am damn angry for two consecutive days. I like broke some kinda personal record. Airheads who have no respect for people’s time should like go for a brain scan and check whether they have got a frigging brain. FUCK YOU!!!

I have got tons of work to do, not counting the fact that exams are just next week, and you are wasting my time by asking me to go ChinaTown to “take a break”, “take in some Chinese culture” because you don’t think “meetings should be constrained to a room”. What Chinese culture??? All I saw was the interior of Yum Cha resturant!! I feel so cultured all of a sudden. If I got time to take a break, all the more I won’t do it in ChinaTown where I have been like more than a 1000000 times.

The fact that I have got nothing, NOTHING!! to do during meetings is bad enough. Why the hell should I rot while you the actors are practising their roles??? It’s not like I have not seen them act before. I’m fine with seeing them act, but why should I waste like the whole day just because you decide that everyone must be present at the meeting without considering the fact that people like me will have nothing to do there??? Must I do my portfolio with you??? Not like you were of any help to my portfolio except for your director’s brief which part of it was my idea anyways!! And now you expect me to contribute to your frigging portfolio too??? By giving a short write-up of my experience??? The only thing I learnt was to not bite your head off in the middle of the meetings. Being able to whole back criticism and anger is a bloody virtue!! Don’t give me that bull-shit about you not having started on your portfolio. I stayed up two nights to do my portfolio cause I know that you will fucking waste my time, one whole day of my time!!

To top it off, you decided that it would be “GOOD” for the group by informing everyone at 4am in the morning that you decided to push back the meeting from 12pm to 3pm!! Hello!!! Have you considered the fact that people like me have things planned after the meeting which was supposed to end at 5pm??? And now you are saying that we should consider staying in school which would probably mean the meeting’s gonna last till 9? 10? 11? 12? at night???? Did the thought ever occur to you??? To think for others??? To not be a naive, retarded, airhead?? Apparently NOOOOOO!!!

(This is like the fastest typed post from me ever)

Let’s talk about “I am the Wind”

If you are wondering who is Kagura, she is a character from the manga “Inuyasha”. Today was my off day from school so I was lazing on my bed reading manga since morning. Seriously, I can spend the whole day in my bed just reading manga. It’s even better than playing game. Anyways, as I was reading, I was getting more and more drawn into the character Kagura. Maybe I should do a short introduction of her. Basically, she was created by the villian, Naraku, in the story and her life is held in his hands. Hence, she has to do as he says, although she isn’t exactly the nicest person on earth, but then again, I have always been attracted to the villians. So anyways, Naraku learnt of her intentions to betray him and hence gave her back her heart but poisoned her in at the same time. She fleed and enjoyed her short lived freedom which was like what, a few pages of my manga. Kagura ended up on this field and Sesshomaru followed her smell and found her dying there. Her last words were “At least I got to see you in the end” and “I am the wind, a free wind”.

Emo can??? Super devastated when she died. But at least Sesshomaru is still around. Sesshomaru-sama!! Damn it, acting like a crazy fan girl.

The reason I wrote that thing like a poem was cause I know what it feels like, wanting to be free. Although this freedom isn’t exactly the same kind of freedom, but the desire, the wish is the same. I want to be free from obligations, responsibility and anything else holding me back in this life, this world. That’s why my dream is forever out of my reach, because it is out of this world, literally. Call me childish, call me immature, but what can you expect from someone so buried in fantasy, who hates this world to bits, who just want to fly away from here and go to a place where my dreams and fantasy run free. I need escapism, and the only way I can express through my stories, to bring life to them through my stories.

Enough ranting. Back to reading “Inuyasha”

Kagura: I am the Wind~

I am the wind
Never to be enslaved
To decide my own destiny
To do as I please

I am the wind
Fly away from this cage
To soar in the sky
To cruise over the sea

I am the wind
Wouldn’t be held down no more
To act upon one’s orders
To die at one’s whim

I am the wind
Released from the leash
To know what it feels like
To be finally free

I am the wind
Life is short lived
To die is a liberation
To die is to flee

I am the wind
In my last living moments
To have him by my side
To at long last be me

Emo

What is this feeling of overwhelming sadness, this wave of pain washing over me. The mere thought of it makes tears sting my eye. No, not here. I’m not going to cry in public, especially not on the bus. I can just feel those eyes behind me, staring, waiting for me to bring up my hands, to wipe away those persistant tears. I need to get a hold of myself. It’s just two more stops away. And then I can cry in peace, curl into a ball, wallow in misery. A little more, and I will be back in my sanctuary, my world, my space.

Focus, focus on something else, take my mind of things. Yes! The music being played by those idiots at the back of the bus! Finally of some use. But the rhythm is irritating the hell out of me.

Thump, thump, thump.

It sure is annoying. Wonder how they can stand those noise they call music. If he was here..

No! Stop it! Stop thinking of him! Damn it! I can feel those tears again. Close my eyes, that will stop those tears from flowing out.

But an image of him came into my mind. Those piercing eyes, his wind blown hair and that smile which always seemed to play on his lips. How can I ever forget, to think that I can hold back my emotions. I should know when to give up, to let go of the weight upon my shoulders and cuddle my bag and cry.

As my tears flowed relentlessly and I sobbed uncontrollably, I notice that the bus has passed my stop. Let it be then, let it be. All I want is to let my emotions engulf me.

Cel’s aureate

Cel comes from singapore, a little red dot amongst the vast lands and seas. She (yes, I’m a she) is random and temperemental so please overlook her wildfulness from time to time. Although she is easily amused, she gets bored quickly too. This is her channel of thoughts and ideas in writing so as to empty some of the things in her overly strained head.

Please leave constructive comments so as to help Cel come up with better works. Spam and destructive comments will definitely be laughed at and spreaded around and finally thrown to rot in eternal darkness.

Okay. A short introduction to the different sections in this blog. There is the “epilogue” where you can enlighten yourself with my words of wisdom (just kidding). Actually, it’s just a place for me to say anything I like along the way of writing my stories. Then there is the “short works” sections where there are short stories in there mainly created on the spur of the moment when I think of them. Don’t expect an ending to those these short works are supposed to get you guys imagining. And lastly, there is the “slipping through” section. It’s something which I have been thinking on working on for a long time and will be trying to finish it. That’s it for now, till I decide to add on more things on this front page.

Disclaimer: None of the characters in my story is anyone in real life. So if any similarites are seen, it’s normal, cause everyone around me acts as my inspriration. No one is fully a character in my story ya? So if you think that I should compensate you because I have adopted certain characteristics from you, then sorry, you have got to wait till someone actually pays me for the stories first. However, if you think that you are suitable to be a character in my story, please send me your full biography and a photos of yourself. No nude photos unless you have a nice figure, thank you. I will look at them, laugh my heart out and consider posting them around the blog. Just kidding. No offense. I’m just bored out of my mind. Please do not take any part of my works and claim it as your own. If you do, bless you as you would be facing my wrath.

it’s been too long

Oh my gosh!! I am actually back!! Even I’m surprised by me being so fickle and temperamental.

So you guys must be thinking why the hell am I back after all this time? Actually I doubt anyone is thinking that since this blog is kinda dead. Opps~~

Well the thing is, the whole “I don’t wanna live in this world” feeling has gotten a little too overwhelming. I mean, it has constantly been there all the time, but recently, ever since I got into NUS and all, with all the studies and circumstances pushing me back into reality, I need a place for escapism once again. Like what I always believed, if you can’t fit in, create your own world then! And so that’s what I’m gonna do, delve into my ideal world (or not) by creating them through my stories.

The thing is, some of my imaginary world are too close to heart to ever be put down into words. They shall remain in my mind for good. Others are, well, not developed enough to be put into stories, so that’s where the “Argh!!” process comes into play.

Of course I’m still going to touch on stories which are closer to reality (damn!). Whether or not you have realised, they are my anguish, frustrations, fear or even helplessness, transformed onto characters from different walks of life.

Allow me to digress a little. I have gotten myself a hamster!! I must be going mad or something. My dad’s probably gonna kill me if he finds out. Oh well, let’s just see how it goes then. But the whole point is, my hamster is so like me!! She (I know it’s supposed to be it but what’s wrong with me calling her a ”she” since I know her gender?) is like the epitome of laziness! Normally, hamsters would keep running on those wheels in the cage. For mine though, she uses it more as a bed than anything else! All she does is eat and sleep but wierdly enough, I love her for that due to the fact that it’s so me!

That’s all for now. I will post my work up as soon as I get one done. For now, I need sleep. Totally sleep deprived at the moment. My lifestyle is killing me!!

Chapter Three

           Three days have passed since I first met Sean. It felt like I have finally found a friend or a companion after all these years after having graduated from High School. But it wasn’t like I had friends back in school. Staying in an orphanage doesn’t exactly help you fit in.

           

             It didn’t always used to be like this. I used to have a family, a place where I could call home. But that part of my life crumbled away when my mother died. No wait, it was way before that. It should be the time when my father left us when I was seven. After which, all the memories of my mother was of her beating me up when she was drunk and bringing different men home every other night.

 

            Yes, she was a whore, in every meaning of the word, and I hated it. Each time she staggered home into our one room apartment, smelling of alcohol and cigarettes with one of those disgusting men who didn’t take more than a glance at me, all it did was to fuel my detest. Little did they know that I still remember their faces, every single one of them, the colour of their hair, the shape of their eyes and the uplift of the edges of their lips with thoughts of what was promised to them in the room. She would just wave her arms at me, telling me to sleep on the sofa and then make her way into the room clinging onto the man.

 

The moans and cries which emitted from behind the door only made me winced. I couldn’t concentrate on anything and all I felt like doing was to bring hurt onto someone, to hit someone, to pierce someone with a knife, anything! But all I could do was retreat into a corner of the sofa and forced myself to sleep.

 

On nights which she didn’t bring a man back, she would probably be either too drunk to talk to me or would be hitting me, blaming me for my father having left us. My bruises and cuts increased day by day and so did my anger. The scars never went away, like a constant reminder of what I was about to do to my mother.

 

She was having a huge row with one of the men whom I have seen around for a few times. The quarrel soon became a fight, with him pushing her into a corner and placing blows after blows onto her face and body. But she wasn’t one to be left beaten up, she was trained from the days when my father used to beat her. It wasn’t long before they were screaming, shouting and causing as much pain as they could to each other.

 

All I did was to sit and stare and watched as the man finally pulled out a Swiss army knife from his pocket and stabbed her in the stomach. Specks of blood hit me in the face but still, I remained where I was. Was it due to shock? She let out a long and dreadful scream. The man panicked and fled, leaving the knife in her body. As she cried out to me for help, I got off the sofa and slowly made my way towards her. Her pitiful body lay helpless on the floor while she reached out her hand towards my leg and grabbed it.

 

            “Help me… Call the ambulance…” she cried out desperately, but I stood still, looking back blankly at her.

 

            “Chris… My dear boy… Hurry up and call the ambulance. You wouldn’t want your mummy to die would you?”

 

            Her final sentence struck me. This woman who had lashed at me when she was drunk, who didn’t care less that I was alone at home all the time and when I needed my mother. Yes! I wanted her to die! In a moment of furyand determination, I pulled the knife out from her stomach and stabbed her once, twice in the chest until she fell limb onto the floor.

- to be continued -

Chapter Two

The leaves rustled gently with the light breeze that was blowing pass. Being too relaxed always made me particularly emotional as I felt a tear trickling down my face. I should have kicked this habit of mine long ago but it stayed with me through my childhood and past my teens. Closing my eyes, I decided to take a quick nap lying down on the grass beside the lake. I deserved it, considering that most of my time the past few weeks has been spent on last minute coaching to prepare my students for their up-coming piano examinations.

Light footsteps were approaching me and I opened my eyes to take a look. A silhouette was blocking the sun and for a moment, it looked like an angel which has descended from the heavens. Rubbing my eyes for a bit, I saw that it was a man in his early twenties. I quickly stood up beside him and the first thing I noticed was his dark brown eyes which stood out from his pale complexion. His silky hair danced along with the passing wind like they were one and I made a mental note to myself about his too long fringe which blocked his beautiful eyes when the wind wasn’t blowing.

His thin pink lips spread into a soft smile, which further emphasized on his good looks along with the two dimples at his cheeks. Any girl would have swooned at him on the spot, including me, if not for the fact that I am a guy. If not for the requirements of my job, I doubt I would have any contact with anyone at all. I wasn’t exactly sociable which explains why I am all by myself on a Sunday when most people are out with their close ones.

“Perfect weather for a day out isn’t it?” he said, brushing his hair out of his eyes while looking up into the sky.

Oh my gosh, doesn’t he knows that’s the worse thing to say as a first sentence to a perfect stranger? “Ya, it sure is”, I replied like nothing was wrong. It has been a long time since I last spoke to anyone around my age. All I get to talk to are kids who don’t do much as conversation partners as they spend more of their time talking than listening. Other than that, I also get to speak to their parents who are too busy convincing you that their children are rather good for their age and I don’t bother to correct them seeing its best for both me and them.

He smiled at me again, which didn’t have quite the effect it did the first time, but it was charming nonetheless.

“By the way, I’m Sean. What’s your name?” he held out his right hand for me to shake and I took it politely. Although it wasn’t part of my plan to meet anybody today, I welcomed his appearance rather happily although questioning his intention for talking to me.

“It’s Chris here. Nice meeting you” I gave him a smile of my own which I usually reserved for students who have done well during practice.

“Nice meeting you too. So what plans have you got today?” he asked.

“Nothing much actually. I though I would just get out of my house for a walk to get some fresh air.” I replied, taking note of the fact that he is talking to me like a long lost friend.

“So, would you mind if I interrupt your not-so-busy day with an invitation for a drink at the nearby café?” he asked confidently, as though already knowing the answer.

“Well sure. Nothing would be more interesting than getting a drink with a complete stranger. On top of that, I think I would treat myself to some light snack.” I jokingly replied.

He stuck out his arm to guide me towards the direction of the café. We chatted as we walked and I got to know more about him in the process. Little did I know that this coincidental meeting would be the start of a joke fate was playing on us.

 

 

 

Chapter One

Slipping Through

 

Missing each other each time we crossed this path,

Slipping through the time we thought would always last.

Looking back at those hell-like days we though would never end,

Listening to your singing which brought peace in the end. 

———————————————————————————-

         Streams of blood flowed relentlessly from the deep wound in his chest, further coloring the already dark red carpet. The accursed Swiss army knife was lying unwanted at the far corner of the living room. I must have flung it away from the shock of the spraying blood. His lifeless body looke  so peaceful, as though he is just taking an evening nap on my lap.

             A faint smile played on his pale face, as though thanking me for the horror that I have committed. He lured me into this. It was all part of his plan, to let it end off in my hands.

           This wasn’t supposed to happen. This must be a joke! How can he be dead? Oh damn that police siren. They are going to wake him up if they don’t turn the volume down. His fringe is still as long as ever, shining like threads of gold under the setting sun, which was coming in from the light fabric of the curtains.

             Who is that knocking on the front door? It must be the old hag, Miss Hitch from next door, inquisitive and irritating as ever. Guess I should just ignore her as Sean always hated her ever pressing questions, poking around in our business as she doesn’t have much of her own. Now I can hear muffled voices coming through the door. It doesn’t sound like the old hag. Wonder who it is then. I will just leave them be and maybe they will go away and leave me to be alone with Sean.

            The knockings got louder and more persistent and I felt that I could no longer ignore it. Placing my lips on his forehead, I gave Sean a soft kiss before getting up to answer the door. Two policemen were standing on my porch and their police car was parked clumsily halfway up the pavement. Before I could say anything, they shoved me backwards and rushed into my living room without even taking off their dirty boots. How rude can our country’s defenders of the law get? Before I could react, they grabbed and pinned me to the floor, face down, and started putting handcuffs on me. One of the police went over to Sean and placed his finger on his neck, as though feeling for a pulse.

           “He’s dead.” he uttered to the other policeman.

            What do they think they are doing? Sean is jus sleeping, he’s not dead! He looks just as beautiful as the first day I had met, where I mistook him for an angel. Where was it again? Oh right, it was at the lake, under the old tree.

 

 

 

 

National Novel Writing Month

just awhile ago, milton introduced me to this event that is going on around the world. as i am lazy to talk more about it, here is the link for you guys to find out more.

http://www.nanowrimo.org

anyway, it sounded rather interesting to me so i decided to give it a shot. i am working on it now although my novel doesn’t have a concrete plot. the title is “slipping through” for now. i may decide to change it if i can think of a better one. will be updating the novel on this blog so those who are interested can take a look at it. wonder whether i will ever be able to complete it in time. never know when i will give up too. oh well, just going to do whatever i can and see how it goes.