ok, as late as this is, I need to say this:

I LOVE THE PLMGS SEC 3 GIRLS (who organised the i-Discover camp x]).

Seriously, you girls pulled through one tough stunt, and I'm so proud of you. Special thanks to Qinyi, Praneetha, Archanna and Sardine xD. You girls made the camp that much more fun.

In other news: my muse has taken a long vacation. I've only managed to churn out one miserable poem and it sucked.

Orlando Bloom, Shia Lebeouf, and Leo DiCaprio : someone marry me please.

Jia, Akira. Please take care. I don't know if I've been a good enough friend. Probably not. But if you need a listening ear, you know who to call. I can't promise answers though.

I'm tired.

The answer hit me like a tonne of bricks. Astounding how the revelation came because I looked outside myself and at my brother's downcast face, because 5 minutes later I was scrubbing his socks.

I did it because I cannot take failure. Its connotations. The injury it does to my goddamned pride. It all boils down to that. And the relief that came with the revelation's indescribable, because I finally managed to put my finger on that pesky thing that has been bugging me the past 2 weeks.

Perhaps it's time I threw it away. Disturbing that it has been the same perpetrator in my pencil holder for the last 4 years. Everytime I meet with a failure I itch to give it a go. There were times when I gave in, but those times were rare, very rare, because of something called a conscience and self-assesment; assessment of stupidity, that is.

Once By The Ocean
Robert Frost

The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God's last Put out the light was spoken.

It's a rush to the head. Really.

I am of the belief that you can never hurt yourself too much.

This is shallow but:

Pretty girls make me self-conscious.

Artificial Angels

The need for fellowship, companionship.
Upon this precipice
I
reach out with hope and want,
eyes shut and toes perilously close to the edge.

Contact is made.

Fused by the gazing of a single star,
we melt together in a pool of
shared experiences and mental illusions.
Dance this dance with me in our ignorant cocoon of
twin thoughts and one-way sentiments.
We're sheltered, shielded, blindfolded as we
hold hands and skip through this honey-hued hinterland.

When will this dream fail?
When will the ugly, gaudy colours of reality
paint us back into consciousness?

It's an eventuality we must face,
even as we cling to each other in an
enduring embrace,
human binds of security and escapism.

But for now, love, for now,
we'll touch our hands together softly
yet firmly, dancing ad infinitum in this hinter wonderland.

I can see myself leaving INO. I can see myself weaning off INO.

But never the band.