Saturday, June 12, 2010

My dad.

Because of some family issues, I haven't been a very good daughter to my dad.
I don't greet him every morning now.
I don't make coffee for him.
I don't crack lame jokes over dinner and laugh with him.

Instead, I wake up later than him in the mornings.
Instead, I make breakfast for myself.
Instead, I finish dinner as quickly as I can, and retire to my room.

It's between my parents, really.
But it was something which grew onto me involuntarily.

Today, I felt a little sick of maths, so I logged onto Facebook.
A couple of my friends were spazzing out over the World Cup. Curious, I clicked a couple of links and got onto a live streaming site. Cheers of euphoria blasted from my laptop speakers and I was reminded of how I used to watch soccer on TV with my dad when I was young. I had cuddled next to him in his chair, and we watched soccer together, until my mom came in and hollered at me to sleep because it was way past 10PM - my bedtime then.

Feeling slightly detached from my body - or reality, so to speak - I unplugged my laptop and hugged it out of my room, to where my dad was.

He was in front of our desktop computer, checking out random information on Wikipedia.

I'd like to think it was all Singtel's fault.
Their fault for buying over the rights for airing FIFA, their fault for wanting to charge us poor little Starhub viewers an additional $66 to watch the World Cup. I think it was their fault, really, that when I looked at my dad reading up on random information on the net during the World Cup season, an unexplainable wave of sadness hit me.

I placed my laptop on the study table, next to the desktop screen. He looked up at me quizzically, the wrinkles on his face more defined than how I remembered them to be.

"Live streaming," I shuffled the laptop around a little. "You can watch soccer now. It's a little blur, and a little laggy, but it should be okay," I mused.


He smiled at me then, and I felt like I should have bought him that sixty-six dollar football channel instead, not subject him to pixellated (although life-saving) broadcasts.

I smiled back at him, and pulled a chair up beside him.

Then we started watching soccer together.

Friday, June 11, 2010

This is from Lisin.

Thank you, Lisin.
I'm going to work hard, really.

No more giving in self-indulgence.

LiSin says: (PM 09:47:17)
its tough now, but if you give up, it gets tougher
LiSin says: (PM 09:47:27)
only when you step over this boulder will things improve

Yes, I understand.

This is for Lyn.


She panted, muscles screaming, chest ripping apart.


Water streaked down in rivers; down her temples, down her back. Down her shins, soaking her socks. The heat, it didn't want to stop. It enveloped her, engulfed her, suffocated her. It clung stubbornly to her body, like a parasite; sucking her bone-dry.

The heat drove right through her skull, her body. Her shoulders ached, her arms ached, her legs ached. She was burning, but the water wasn't putting it out. The water got into her eyes. Fire seared them instantly, blinding her. Tears came, flooding out of her lids. They mixed with the sweat, and together in a uniform of salt and pain, they streaked down her face. Her hand lifted on its own, and in a brief swipe, her sweat and tears were flicked to the ground. Her feet pounded past.


She couldn't think.

Her vision was blurred. Where was she now?

Her lungs tightened in her chest. Gasps fell from her lips, unevenly, unnaturally.

Air. More air.

She needed more air.


She couldn't feel her legs.

Was that her calves now, burning?

A scream from her lungs.



Up ahead, distant voices.

Distant cheers.



Run, Lyn! Run!

Fire shot through every fibre in her body; pain, excruciating pain.

Where were her arms? Her legs? Was this her now, running?

Her eyes couldn't see.

Gasping for air, she couldn't see.

But her mind was clear.

Up ahead, distant faces.


Run, Lyn!

Up ahead, but right there.


Her feet pounded against the hard concrete. The sun burst down upon her, bathing her in sweat and utter agony. She couldn't feel anymore. Her right foot left the pavement, but her left foot leap forward to grab the ground in front.


Up ahead.

Only up ahead.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Have faith in your own happy ending.

I need to focus on my work damn it! D:<

In other words, I have to work harder.


Meanwhile, I will bathe for an hour (yes!!) and reflect deeply.

Jaguar Cheerleaders dinner soon!!!! *squeeeee!*

Friday, June 4, 2010

Run, until your fingers touch the sky.

Back from AB Camp.
Originally wanted to post about the experience. It was brilliant, amazing.

But I came home and I faced work.

I don't think I can do it, really. I can't find motivation. I want to give up.

Please let me give up.
Please stop me from giving up.
Please let me give up.
Please stop me from giving up.
Please let me give up.

I don't have the strength to continue. I don't want to find it. This isn't what my camp taught me.
But I'm tired.

Please stop me from giving up.

I need to sleep really badly now.