"How are you?"

Inevitably in every conversation, this question pops up. When I was younger I used to make it a point to not give a boring answer. I cringed and rolled my eyes if they replied with shitty, routine answers (ie; "im ok", "good. u?"). I would even accept "could be better if I could have your sexy ass" as an answer (and my answer would depend on your... eligibility). What I couldn't tolerate most were people who give boring answers, which would irrevocably lead to a death in chemistry. Your body how hot also no use lar!

Ok, admittedly that last line was a lie. I would probably keep the chemistry going for a longer time, increasing in a linear fashion (learnt this while writing my psych lab reports woohoo I can has sounding smart!) according to the amount of abs you have. But we would eventuate into nothingness in the end anyway, since even back then I was never THAT shallow to keep afloat what was only supported by purely superficial means. (And when I say eventuate into nothingness I meant hot guy and me in bed eventuating into my..nothingness.)

When asked how I was, I gave a frank (and usually TMI) answer of what I was really feeling. Not to everyone, of course, I give the ones I don't want around the boring answers I despise (but they seem to stay anyway), but to those I wanted to build something more than "nothingness" with. 

So that meant that that simple (so many thats, cool right?), asked-out-of-obligation question was reciprocated with long-ass, overly-dramatic answers. The kind that involves every exboyfriend gathering and making out with each other and then spiking drinks and stabbing this back and that guy's back and getting cheated on and being played and your dog dying. Only two out of em' all actually happened btw. It's 6am I'm allowed to make shit up.

But that was then, and this is now. I guess I have grown up. (Or jaded, one or the other.)

"Oh, I'm good. Yourself?"

Ridiculous

**This is not crap related to love or sex. This is to prove that I have life outside of failed romances and raunchy hookups.

So a while back, after performing in my college's acoustic night(with only a horrendous guitarist as background who insists on singing despite it being so completely off-key), aA friend of mine informed me about the prom auditions.

(Digressing, how horrendous could a guitarist be? He's 18 now, and has learned guitar since he was 12. And these are literally things I told him - 'If you forget the chord then skip it completely it's okay' and 'If you play the wrong chord just continue playing and don't stop, I'm loud enough to cover it'. How the fuck can he still screw up, if I covered forgetting and playing the wrong chords? He went SUPER FAST. But we still got an applause la. ;D )

So supposedly, I asked two of my classmates if they wanted to go for it. They said okay, and so we decided on Boyslikegirls' 'Love Drunk' and LeeHom's 'Kiss Goodbye'. So well, we are busy people, and the only practice we had were that 30 minutes before the auditions? So we couldn't change songs. And as one of our classmates quit cause she decided she won't be around for prom, 'Love Drunk' was a bitch to sing. Because the guitarist(different one) so blatantly refused to sing. I know, should've just played the song slower, but then it loses its omphhh.

So anyway, I thought we did okay despite the lack of practice and preparations. But my friend was like, 'I dunno leh'.

So fast forward weeks later and I still have yet to receive an email from the person in charge. She has, however, emailed me about my program's T-shirts and class pages and whatnot. I was like, so embarrassed can? I sung my heart out on both the songs! And when you sing your heart out, so loud that even those outside the auditorium heard you, only to realize you suck, that just really sucks, doesn't it ;(.

Because of the shame, I try to avoid the people in charge, and the other people around when I was auditioning, or those who knew I was auditioning for prom's performances and would ask. I would pretend to be talking on the phone and just walk on by.

Today, on a class outing, a friend inevitably asked about the auditions. I knew I was gonna have to face this...disgrace eventually anyway. A million things ran through my head, alternatives on what to say or how to face this shame with the most glam and dignity that could be mustered.

Then the said guitarist said, 'Yea we got through.'

KNNCCBOMGBBQ!!!!!

Apparently they emailed him, and he forgot to tell me about it. So yeah, all those days of avoiding random people cause of the shame totally wasted. Damnit.

But haha, quite happy now lah. But we have to show them what we've got next Friday, right after five days of trials. :|

But yay!

Unwritten

The Ex found this blog.

How now, brown cow?

Torn

So I went straight clubbing yesterday, the only way every other horny hormonized teenager could possibly celebrate national day with. It's been a year and a half since I last went into a straight club, and it was so crowded. We had two bottles, among 12 of us, classmates and coursemates.

It was good.

It's been a while since I've wrote here, but every time I get the urge to write, it's of you. And I can't help but sigh to myself, not another emo post like that.

But here I am.

And there you go.

Six Without Too Much Trouble, This Paradox Breaks Past Dreams To Rubble

As I climbed that brick wall that was the front parameter of my home, I looked up and found a big, bright, round moon. It was hauntingly beautiful, so unforgettable that I was sure I had seen it before, somewhere on the cover of a book.

I looked out towards that main road and squinted, hoping to see further than what limited vision my eyes allowed, before realizing how tired my eyes were. It was, after all 4 in the morning.

If you've figured out what my title suggests, then congratulations! For realizing the truth - that I am becoming what I once thought I'd never become.

Goodnight, world.