don't look at me

I'm putting up my scaffolding

to rebuild

to hide.

Locked away for now, but

I'd see you then.

*waves*

*waves a fish*

i'm blue

DA BA DEE DA BA DIE

DA BA DEE DA BA DIE!

DA BA DEE DA BA DIE

DA BA DEE DA BA DIE!

DA BA DEE DA BA DIE

DA BA DEE DA BA DIE

DA BA DEE DA BA DIE!

*repeat*

on a useless dutch desktop

“I've been making a list of the things they don't teach you at school. They don't teach you how to love somebody. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don't teach you how to walk away from someone you don't love any longer. They don't teach you how to know what's going on in someone else's mind. They don't teach you what to say to someone who's dying. They don't teach you anything worth knowing.”

- Neil Gaiman



And they don't teach me how to be less selfish. They don't teach me how to stop moping over the scraped knees of my juvenile hurt heart. They don't teach me how to be brave.

Tell me it's okay to feel a little alone.

happiness junkie

This blog was dead because

I was busy finding cheap ways to make myself happy. Attempts include stuffing myself with multiple squares of Rittersport, taking bus rides from end to end with a zen expression on my face, and crying my soul out over the first twenty minutes of UP. Twice.

When Ellie first pulled her helmet off, her hair went WHOOM.

Here's Ellie and she's weird. And she's loved.

What am I? I drift through life, I hold on to little things that make me grin, I lose stuff sometimes but I do my laundry on time always.

I try to act masculine in the most phail ways ever possible (as Oi Shan can vouch for). But when I can see myself clearly sometimes, like in an out-of-body state, I can see that I am just a terrible little bundle of paranoia and affection.

I forget to act in sensible ways sometimes. But I'm not a rebel. I really, um, just forgot.

I don't know how I got here, but I won't give myself trouble for being myself.

... maybe a little.

THERE I BLOGGED!

Don't break plates.

Don't break plates.

Don't break plates.

Don't be blur.

Don't be blur.

Don't be blur.

Don't lose your bag.

Don't lose your bag.

Don't lose your bag.

last-minute things before Stockholm

1. Learn Swedish.

2. Especially of food names.

3. Don't always buy the cheapest option at the supermarket because it can turn out to be Chicken Stomach.

4. Dress up my camera in socks if I don't want it in a cold-induced coma.

5. Don't lose my scarf.

6. Prepare for -18 degrees weather.

7. Figure out the strange coffin-looking dryer that's supposedly for jeans.

ze wonderful adventure of the useless midget

To

Nini, here is the sequel to China.

Leng, here is Excitement Galore, as you requested.

Oi Shan, don't freak out. (I heard shoes expand when you wear them often.)

NOTE: this post was made yesterday morning. A lot more happened. Another time.

Let's start with the wonderful.

Snow definitely wasn't what I was expecting. No knee-deep tracts of snow. (edit: I WAS WRONG.) Not at this time at least. You'd quickly learn that snow next to the road is grimy and black and best avoided, but if you stumble upon vast flat lands that stretch all the way to the horizon (as I saw on the Swebus), you'd see dazzling, obscene whiteness that you really want to hurl yourself onto.

I saw my first frozen lake, complete with fishing boats caught in stasis.

Walking on snow is Crunch Crunch, like walking on cornflakes. Not cotton wool.

Some of you would be glad to know that pimples dry up like magic around here (and so does your face and hands). Amazingly, the frizz in my hair just upped and gone like that. I can't stop touching my hair D:

The adventure. (Don't kill me, Oi Shan)

The gods have decreed that I be separated from the WKW bunch. They now live 3km south of school, while I'm 5km up north. That's 8km to Enforced Independence. I was half-horrified and half-nervous, although I was pretty annoyed to receive a scolding from my dad and an imperative to get myself transferred to a 1m-vicinity of the Others, immediately.

I've got myself a single room and an extra dose of hyper-vigilance (I couldn't stop fingering my room keys in my pocket, and I'm making plans to buy a heavy-duty chain).

Right now, I'm staring out of a giant window.

NTS: buy curtains.

It's 8:10am and I slept really well. I love my bed to bits. It's triple-layered with mega bouncing power, and I've got four pillows.

Down the hall, there are eight more rooms, all guys. I'm sharing the bathroom with a dozen dudes. My heart sank when I saw the classic "Previous User was Male and Cannot Aim Properly" syndrome in the two toilets on my floor. It's like having a hundred brothers instead of just one D:

NTS: buy female toilet signs.

The useless. (Don't kill me, Oi Shan)

WHO SAID VILHEMSRO IS A PARTY PLACE?

When I got here, the entire floor was deserted. I was clueless, hungry and utterly useless. I was supposed to get online ASAP and contact the others, 8km down south, until my French neighbour told me we have to get access cards from school, the next day, to get Internet.

I wish to say I'm independent and brave, but truth was, I was bloody scared. I am 8km (don't laugh) from anyone I know, and I have no way of contacting them. I can't cook, I was starved and I have no Internet. That means no way of wiki-ing the bus routes to grab something to eat out. Which would be fruitless anyway, because my Japanese neighbour told me, in Japlish, that all the shops are closed.

There was this Chinaman from Room 5 (sharing with my Japanese neighbour), 25 this year, who was my Iron Enforcer of Independence. When I told him I can't cook and have got nothing to eat:

(imagine Sensei Stance)

Then Learn. You're Scared, But You Have to Learn on Your Own.

Then he proceeded to educate me on the Parts of the Kitchen.

I resigned myself to cup noodles. Btw, his name is Neko. Neko, and his roommate is Japanese bwahahahahhahahahahahaokayignoreme.

BUT WAIT! DON'T FREAK OUT, OI SHAN!

I went up to the 2nd floor and met a bunch of Hongkies and became best friends and ate burnt rice and Chinese soup for dinner and suddenly it doesn't seem too bad after all and I managed to borrow a computer to get Jeremy's number and I'm probably going to see the rest in 2 hours' time so exit. (EDIT: which I did. I spent the night at Xien/Shiying's place and made my way back in the early morning, when it was still dark. I have amazing mapreading skills/guesswork power/intuition/luck.)