Thursday, September 30, 2004

smoke gets in my eyes

i am a fool to be strong when my walls have been falling down and down ever since.

to rant or not to rant. that is the question

Joyce Lim unzipped at 10:40 PM with 0 comments


wadever

bittersweet is the swirling wine of freedom

that's all i shall dispense today

Joyce Lim unzipped at 2:06 PM with 0 comments
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Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Oasis

Post Prelims doesn't taste so sweet after all. after all.. it isn't freedom.. yet. push back little teething doubts behind the smoky screen, sweep little eyesores under the carpet. my hard-earned not so well deserved interim freedom doesn't need wet blankets to dampen the mood.

worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes. my motto is set. at least till this week is over.

for now it's smooth smoky sensuous jazz. citylink mall. frothing hot favourite vanilla latte. my personal red plush couch. noon sun slanting through or hot hard rain hitting the panels. armed with no more than the bare necessities and Salman Rushdie's Fury.

that's my little midnoon at the oasis.

Joyce Lim unzipped at 9:19 PM with 0 comments
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Saturday, September 25, 2004

tinder scintillates

joyce used to love reading Oscar Wilde's "The Importance Of Being Earnest". she still does by the way. but she loved it because she could identify with both cecily and gwen. both had a penchant for men by the name of "Earnest". and she, she had a predilection for guys branded "Jonathan" across their foreheads.

don't ask her why. given her druthers, she would have passed over a devastatingly handsome guy for a not so bad looking "Jonathan" anyday. pish, i'm not fooling. she often wondered how she came to have such a proclivity for this certain 8 lettered name. and it was no coincidence that it started with the same letter "J"; as her name did. perhaps that was one reason, she often rationalised to herself rather aimlessly. perhaps her friend in church who happened to be a "Jonathan" himself gave her such an aspiration; to be married to one of these "Jons" in the near future.

not so in the distant past, when she was still a sapless cockamamie of a ringless worm studying in a withering whitish school uniform, she would often scrawl the name "Jonathan" in her textbooks and doodle a little heart next to it. she even wrote letters addressed to herself from "Jonathan", whose face and gaze she was unfamiliar of but was sure she would be in time to come.so fatally immersed in the waters of Jon-dom, that with her tongue curled out like a child, following the little coils of lines she made with her 2B pencil she was uninterested in her partner's curious gaze.

who is jonathan? they would always ask, casting a second non committal glance towards the embarrassingly ugly red heart that pointed to her name (which she never failed to add in).

oh nobody. she would always reply unaffiliatedly. as if "who" wasn't the question, just the name mattered. they almost always left it at that. it was still the same make believe "jonathan" she had always been scribbling since sec 2.

this continued till one not so fine day she chanced upon a young man named "Jonathan" who was in his senior year at a not so obscure college in singapura. she wasn't too impressed at first. but later on she felt exhilarated. happy. she still squiggled out the same wriggly lines that formed the word "jonathan" in her text books. only now, her earnest tongue trailing the toils was accompanied with a gleaming pair of eyes and a sense of imbued purpose and meaning. finally she could associate a discriminate word with a specific face shape, body and voice. it had been really daunting to have no correlation at all with a name she bequeathed her heart and mind to these past 2 years.

maybe that's why she thought this was finally IT.

It surpassed her expectations. literally. because one day they were no more.

so Derigueur set up a blog penning down all her crushed hopes and faded tears to only a select group of people. few could commiserate with her grief though and she wallowed and ravished in a pothole of abyss for nearly 1 and a half years. few knew the details, even fewer the reasons. fewest, the ending. but now you know the beginning, and the beginning was good. it began 4 years ago the very first portentous day she set her pen to squiggling out a random name. it became a trenchant, conclusive momentous day of her life.

so.. what's in a name? zhihong says it's all history now. and justly so

joyce doesn't know if what she has just typed out should be published. she knows it isn't wise to plunge naked hands into the pyre and scrape the bottom of the heap, hoping for luminated ashes to surface from below. oh but she can't help herself. she will help herself to water from a barrel with a cup full of holes and continue straining to do so till there is not a single glittering sympathising drop left in the barrel. she doesn't want to come out of it empty. at least hand her a proper cup, and she might just leave that ravaged barrel for another.

did she tell you it was only after it that she started listening to jazz proper?

I want a little something more
Don't want the middle or the one before
I don't desire a complicated past
I want a love that will last

Say that you love me
Say im the one
Don't kiss and hug me and then try to run
I don't do drama
My tears don't fall fast
I want a love that will last

I don't want just a memory
Give me forever
Don't even think about saying good-bye
Cuz i want just want one love to be enough
And remain in my heart till i die

So call me romantic
Oh i guess that must be so
Theres something more that you oughta know
I'll never leave you
So don't even ask
I want a love that will last

So theres little more that i need
I wanna share all the air you breathe
I'm not the kinda girl to complicate the past
I want a love that will last


i have thus reawaken somnambulistic sleepers in the embers and rekindled my long and one time love.

so let my sweetest ache haunt my skin again

Joyce Lim unzipped at 9:42 PM with 3 comments
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Wednesday, September 22, 2004

discontinuity

and i have so predicted correctly with much despair and disillusionment on my part to be precise.

there WILL be tears. torrents. why why why. i ask myself. no more rosencrantz and guildenstern syllogistic rationalisation. I Suck. (two words. they suffice for now.)

at maths. (ahhh but these two words come later)

so caustic and cynical smiles spread their iron clamps over my face once more.

it is not heaven when you fall and fall and fall again and again and again. hopefully the trade cycle will end come A levels and i can seriously and properly and dignifiably "kick arse" for maths.

and econs. (
but such thought processes linking from one failed attempt to another are enough for now) it doesn't do much good to be reminded of failures anyhow


Joyce Lim unzipped at 1:56 AM with 0 comments
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Monday, September 20, 2004

hardcore

no i haven't forgotten. you will be my best best best best PGF. don't be an idiot.

here's an entry before you go. i've said all there is to say actually now words elude me. so yes take care of yourself. haha what else this time i'll fuss.

dear yan i know you won't really care but..
drink more water
don't stay up late
don't spend your money where it hurts
don't drink
don't smoke when others aren't smoking
don't club so much
dearie don't give me that look that "go away la don't disturb me" screwed up smile.

be hopelessly wicked. kick ass up there in london and charm many pretty girls with your glib tongue and diet problems and serious issues. haha

someday when i'm awfully low
when the world is cold
i will feel a glow
just thinking of you,
muffled up in kitty
mittens and swathed thick
with scarves and a
not so awesome ponytail.
alright alright your fly
your so cool and shit
i don't agree
you know that
and i don't care much.
reality sinks in
like a bomb ticking
with 1 second to go. when
we've hardly had time
to notice your presence
of absence. i wish
i could say i'll
join you next year.
i wish you'd say
i'll be waiting for you
and really mean it.
c'est la vie.
much love mate
thump your chest and go
"respect" cos i
have tonnes,
for
you.

Joyce Lim unzipped at 8:14 PM with 1 comments
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Friday, September 17, 2004

proverbial

ripped this off.. enjoy..

"I have a friend who like to share his wisdom with us today. His name is Liangzhu . He was made up by Mouth about 1 month ago. Liangzhu according to Mouth is a very righteous man and always like to sprout advice. Sounds pretty familiar.

Liangzhu on physical beauty after seeing girls who overly use makeup:
"Physical beauty should be judge upon a person the very moment that person wakes up from bed."

Liangzhu on clubbing:
"It's fucking sleazy. I hate it."

Liangzhu on being righteous:
"I just think not being righteous is wrong."

P.S why do i have this feeling that "mouth" is yinxiang? haha

Joyce Lim unzipped at 9:08 PM with 0 comments
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Saturday, September 11, 2004

i made up a story just for me

i made up something remotely intelligent just a few minutes ago. "life's too long to be spent living it one step at a time". yinxiang if your reading this, and finding it vaguely familiar, it's because i told you that on msn just now. it probably awakens confused thoughts in every other person's head right now, but for me, at least, it makes sense. a whole lotta sense.

i took a trip to borders. i swear i'm awed by the amount of books i haven't read. i get impressed rather easily i must admit. i was bowled over by the fact that my friend actually read "About A Boy".. i thought it was this super thick huge book that Vikram Seth wrote that i could never have bothered to even touch. i'm sorry you must excuse my ignorance, i got confused with "A Suitable Boy".

fuck this shit. fuck prelims. fuck books. fuck studying. fuck even those books i used to love casting a shadow on whilst i stroll by languorously at borders. fuck them. fuck them all. have u ever wondered what if these books aren't really so thought provocative after all? maybe their languange and presentation are nothing spectacular. maybe Xiaxue's blogging is the next phase of literature. it's just like abstract art. i could tell you a thousand and one things about it; you could stick a finger into my face and laugh scornfully, you could NOT believe me, i wouldn't be mad. you could be right for all i know. so i splash a couple of balloon paints on the ceiling and that makes me Joycepicasso because some doddering fool at La Salle put an interpretation to my works and hails me the next michaelangelo?

i'm feeling exceptionally resentful and fatigued tonight. i don't know why. it's becoming a traitmark catchphrase now.. "i don't know why". i don't know why i'm uptight. i don't know why i feel so antagonised when my maid tries to make friendly overtures to my dog. and i don't know why i feel so piqued when he actually responds with immediate glee. and i don't know why my blood curdles when i see her fondling his ears or feeding him and giving him orders to sit stand go out or catch. i don't know why hostility feeds my brain when someone implies that i'm not "seh" enough to handle a dog bite maturely and calmly. i resent it. everything is just inputs for me to loathe and degrade with malicious contumely.

i'm begrudging. i'm morose. i'm a poison apple.

i give up. i'm fed up. it's just prelims. 2 months ago, i thought i could conquer anything with ample preparation. my ideas amd smiles faded with the caustic sadness and realisation that not only is there NOT ample preparation, there is going to be lots of tears and wasted sadness.

but fuck. it's just prelims right? a levels are more important. NO... prelims are important if you want to apply overseas. well you know what, fuck overseas. what's the point of having A levels if unis and scholarship grants only look at your prelim results. i refuse to accept even the slightest possiblity that this might be the case. i shall study now with the end in mind. but who am i kidding. there's no more studying to be done. prelims are starting next week.

i'm fed up. have i told you that? mondaine. weary, discouraged and melancholy. i'm more than satiated with pre prelim anxieties and the fall in expectations. the only thing that's spurring me to study and crush in one more ounce of my being into one more second of studying are the faces of joy and satisfaction of my classmates when they get back their results. contrast them with mine.. and there you go.. you have a rather unmotivating spur to jolt me into drive, to rev up my engine when i'm already driving at drained speed.

perhaps one reason why people give up is because they've heard of that ladder story. the higher you go, the harder you fall. it's like this with me. the same with maths. i'm petrified that all these weeks of practising and hard kneading will still get me nowhere-when i look at the exam paper and blank out for the penultimate time.

i'm fascinated with Edward Norton's character in "Fight Club". there's a new resolution to be made after prelims. i see a glimmer of a shadow, but no light. but it's ok.. cos you see.. with shadows around, you can bet there will almost certainly be light around the corner. so.. new resolution is: get the book to chew and chew and chew and never spit out the curd. i shall imbibe it, its full swig of cidar panging taste because i feel like Edward Norton's character. that surreal moving figure. everyone's a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of another, a person who thinks too much before he acts; to show the crotch or the arse when he squeezes past a lady seated on a bench he wonders.. we all wonder.

so i shall be a monotony. that person who dies from insomnia. who wakes up suddenly and has no idea how he got there. when you can't sleep, and your dying to, and your eyes are bloodshot and burning acid, everything seems far away, seems muted. your reactions, slow moving, with only vowels coming out of your mouth with the undeliberated slowness of a whale-like Dory in "Emo Nemo".

today i straddled that line i always wanted to straddle. seesawing tergiversate, with eyes fixed innocuously ahead as if not wanting to look behind and see two oncoming cars crashing into me from behind. this is what humans do eh? look dead ahead. pretend they don't know, or delude themselves into thinking there's nothing behind, stick around with a pumping heart and geared up tingling muscles, walking straight on. trying to smite that little psyche in their hearts to rush adrenaline, trying to steady their nerves as coolly as they can.. until they can stand it no more and decide to pick up their skirts and run for dear life... run on and on till they finally look behind, ashamed at being so afraid to turn back in the first place.

but i digress.. today i straddled that dividing line in the small street just round the curve off my house. i always wanted to do that. you see.. the road's straight on, unbending, with the yellow evanescent lights pasting little circles on the tarmac, inviting you to avoid stepping into its radius. so what i do is i listen to the most stirring lavendar smelling song that resurrects roots of emo's and memo's and post-its in my mind, stare straight on, oscillate between the two halves of the line and walk on like there's just me against the world, cursing and breathing in the reality of everything.

then i turn off the road and cut into the bend leading to my house, eyes dotting the houses around me. then a fatal heart stabbing lyric matched with an equally heartwrenching tune comes on my zen boy just as i reach my gate, and i get so tempted to walk one more round with this song in my ears before i go home. but i never do. i open the gate, cast one meaningful glance round the silent barren land and turn my back on it like i do everyday, rushing into familiar smells of doggy breath and oily pies and raucuous merry laughter from the teevee.

Joyce Lim unzipped at 10:07 PM with 3 comments
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Friday, September 10, 2004

viva la france

french culture is fantastic. the language, the wine, the revolution, the fashion, the art.. but not the men. definitely not the men.

Jacob's cafe is fantastic. the food, the wine, the ambience, the music.. but not the men. definitely not the french men.

Joyce Lim unzipped at 1:52 PM with 2 comments
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Wednesday, September 08, 2004

let's recall

i'm empty again
searching and searching
to what end.
life's a destiny

to what destination?
wet nuzzled furry paws
cuddles snuggles
wet and warm

humid and drenched with sleep
i dream of incandescence.
shadows dancing
big red heart on metal

no seasons God
lean on me He says
i'll be your sunrise
Lean on me

but those were happy
times and days
fire dwindled blue heart
glinting harsh

Jewel inspired
cold hollow night shivering
white coat keeps me warm
i follow my footsteps home


Joyce Lim unzipped at 2:27 AM with 0 comments
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Monday, September 06, 2004

little little liar

spirit come be my joy
spirit come be my song
fill my lungs
i won't need anything but you

it pains me everytime i sing this song. or every other worship song for that matter.
to know that what i sing isn't from the heart, to know that what He hears isn't from truth. it wrenches me into silence. into self castigating doubts and worthlessness.

i'm a liar.

who says wasted time is when i fall from His truth? oh.. me.
who says i've found all that i've ever longed for in Him? oh.. me.

i'm a liar.

a betrayer. a traitor. judas iscariot sold my Lord for thirty pieces of silver. me? i sold my Lord for the world. and I of all people should be more grateful than anyone else i've ever known. I of all people should comprehend the suffering and agony that was in exchange for my salvation more than anyone else i've heard of. I of all people should yell in all consuming pain when His hands were nailed to the cross.

i should know. my life is a miracle. to skip and jump and never know how to fall, to grow taller and faster and never know what it's like to stay so unchanged and unalive. i take my crown for granted, my robes and sceptre for mere toys. oh words fail me, how can i distill 9 years of living on borrowed God given time into mere sentences. to think how i've known him as a child, felt his warm corporeal presence when he took away my infirmities and sickness in that hospital room, and yet now all i feel is indifference and dispassion. whatever miracle happened that day, i guess i never really took it with me.

when i was young and my parents were away, and i was left to sleep with unmoving shadows and anticipations of monsters creeping from under the bed, i'd pull out this door hanger and hug it to sleep. it was only cardboard, easily wrinkled and easily broken. oh but you should have seen the words,

"but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength,
They will soar on wings like eagles,
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint"


and it was painted blue, and on it there was this majestic eagle that soared on high. and i'd read it over to myself,again and again and somehow my tears evaporated and i would always lull into a peaceful slumber, comforted with that child-like faith of mine that my Lord was lying beside me protecting me from the monsters that darkness teased me with, with that jealous fiercely fought love of his.

it's just one of those things you could never explain. why should one bible verse bring my heart so much catharsis? it became my guardian bible verse from then on.

so let me flashback to the distant past, in the car back home from the hospital. my mom's crying. we just got the news. i was young. i had my faith about me. she was crying, i didn't know why. somehow deep in the recesses of my heart, i felt not anxiety but the glowing burning warmth of faith, and assurance. there is rest. being refreshed in his presence. somehow you just know it's something divine. you find peace, that restful blissful play about your lips, nothing excitable. and so a certain song plays on the cd player in the car,

"God will make a way
when there seems to be no way,
he works in ways we cannot see,
he will make a way for me"


and i remember turning round and singing that song back to my mom.

so here are my thoughts, unkindled, and un-flamed. embers from the pyre drifting away in the lonely biting wind. a fire that was once ignited, fomented by wondrous miracles 9 years ago. and so now here are the remnants, a broken heart and a broken smile with wrinkles down under betraying the years of crying and confusion.

how could i ever say Sorry to someone whos has already cast my sins into the sea of forgetfulness and erected a sign saying "No fishing allowed"?

you know how they always say though their worlds may fall they'd never let you go? funny. it isn't always like that. coming to a dead end, with the walls closing in on you, with that little light at the end of the tunnel flickering to a stop, when the defenses of you crumble away with every tear irrigating the cement walls, it's only then that you start to call for help.

it's only when i'm left with nothing to place my hopes and fears in that i turn back, retrace the wayward steps i took from the life you gave back to me, and find my way back to that hall of forgiveness and mercy.

Joyce Lim unzipped at 11:07 PM with 4 comments
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Saturday, September 04, 2004

dearie me


oh well on an entirely different note. i must say i'm not exactly very pleased with myself writing that extempore. i knew i'd probably regret it, but since it's up.. ahhh might as well leave it.

well well i'm in changi now. best not to run around too much and get distracted when i'm supposed to be studying surrounded by tranquility and greenery and big fat mosquitoes hah!

and to joyce (tan).. if your still reading this. could you tell me where that quote from Oscar Wilde came from? his poetry? or dorian gray or what what?? i could google it.. but i'd much prefer someone telling me. thanks

Joyce Lim unzipped at 11:31 AM with 1 comments
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Thursday, September 02, 2004

fuck this shitless witless crap

you know my dear Nick.. your right. i'm sorry for thinking i'm intellectually superior than you. my humble apologies. ever so sincerely. could you ever ever EVER find it within that big generous heart of yours to forgive me?

i'm sorry. sorry that your stupid. i asked my friend for another word that day that also means something remotely like "stupid".. guess what he replied. one word should suffice he said "nick".

indeed i'm sorry that your name and your whole personality in general should be synonymous with such a dehumanising and insulting label.
is it any surprise why i should feel intellectually superior? especially when it comes to you?

i'm sorry that your the stupidest guy in the entire world. i'm sorry that you draw liquid into the mouth by movements of the tongue and lips creating some kinda suction force with a thick vacuum in between. to put in simplier terms. you suck. and that's a pun BY THE WAY. i don't believe your punitive brain could ever notice that.

you see nick.. you know why i pigeon-hole you with such angsty ferocity? your stupid because even after i copied and pasted the entire dicitonary.com definition of the word "sophist", you still couldn't comprehend in even the most minute form that the word "sophist" had a negative connotation to it. and you had the audacity and the face to come ask me things like why am i so proud and egoistical calling myself a sophist. well well my dear nick.. obviously i was insulting myself. but then again.. you couldn't have known that even if you tried.

so you see my pet, why do you come here and betray your want of intelligence and cerebellum growth. obviously your shortchanged in that department. if i don't take myself seriously then who should i look to? well definitely not you that's for sure. and why should i take a leaf out of xiaxue's book? i am not her. and i never said that my "loyal readers" had to be my offline friends. what i meant was that if you wanted to make spiteful allegations about me or my writing in particular, you could at least validate your supposedly veracious comments by at least being a frequent reader of my blog, hence justifying your claim as to why i'm so-and-so because i said this-and-this. but you don't, instead you draw the most obtuse conclusions and yet again make the same silly and nugatory ramblings such as these that piss me off and at the same time provide me with a daily dose of amusing voyeurism. it's ironic how when you get a peek into my life, i get a peek into your hollow world at the same time. sadly, it's not a place i'd like to live in. so i'm sorry. again.

now you must try to understand, really please, work some grey matter here and ATTEMPT to understand that i don't usually do this. in fact this is my first time typing an entire entry to someone hoping to kill him with my words. but there's always a first i guess. but i do appreciate your comments. really i do! it spices up my day, and that's an understatement by the way. actually i am rather abashed at the fact that i'm wasting my precious time away participating in useless words of war. i do see that it is unconstructive and utterly pointless. but i do see the need to finally get this off my chest. it's one thing to be stupid. it's anothing thing to come here and flaunt it off pretending you don't know.

my darling nick. i surfed through thesaurus.com and picked up useful words you might want to learn in the future. brainless, foolish, ridiculous, doltish, inane, imbecile, ill-witted, half-witted, witless, underprivileged, retarded, nutty, dotty, potty... and the list goes on.

so i'm sorry. again.. i'm sorry for being such a bitch to you. sorry i had to bitch about your nonsensical constipated ignorance for the whole world to see. and it's not like i'm very proud of it you know. but apparently you are, and i shall not attempt to burst your bubble.

so i shall leave you with a justified syllogism here. according to my friend whom i mentioned earlier, he said your name is an auxiliary word of "stupid". and so.. the only conclusion i can draw from this is that... YOU.ARE.

i rest my case



Joyce Lim unzipped at 10:35 PM with 1 comments
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Wednesday, September 01, 2004

yours truly

my old blog is in a mess. i keep trying to change its template but it comes out all wrong. sigh.. i am resigned to my fate. and irritatingly i can't seem to get my archives link up on blogspot. this sucks. somebody help!

and i am terribly surprised at this particular person's innate capacity to be stupid. witless. totally unbearably exasperatingly absolutely dotty. my goodness i don't know whether to laugh in condescending triumph.. like the kind of "see i told you so" smug look, or smash that person to death with big toiletbowls filled with cockroaches and maggot infested poo.

if you don't know what i'm talking about, just take a look at this particular comment that was pretty recent. recent enough to throw me into a sputtering frenzy whenever i still think abt it.

my advice is.. unless you've been a loyal reader dating all the way from Miss De Rigueur's days of crappy diaryland then don't leave comments lying around for me to find and criticise. but I especially love anonymous #2's quote by Oscar Wilde because that applies to those witless dumbarse people who think they know enough to come and leave their less than two cents worth on my blog. it only betrays your lack of intelligence, but obviously you didn't know that.

SO.. POINT is.. it had better be something constructive, not spiteful personal allegations thrown to my face. we're adults here.. let us ATTEMPT to act like one. i am only explosive when provoked :) nah i'm a bitchy self righteous arrogant queen out here in the blogging industry. you may argue that it's a free world, you can leave whatever comments you like. but let me just remind you this blog ain't some republic, it's mine. i establish the dictatorship and autocratic rules here, don't blame me for my intransigence. it ain't freedom of speech buddy, the fact that i have power to delete comments validates my tyrannic position.

but of course.. dear ole generous me wouldn't do that now would i? :)

ok that was typed in sinful delight. shall i tell you what happened today? today.. bimbo joyce screamed in excitement when she opened her first bottle of Garnier face moisturizing cream. she squeezed out those precious dollops of cream and smeared it onto her face.

that's funny.. she thought. the more she tried to massage it into her skin, the more whitish and lathered it got. not to mention sticky. guess bimbo's reaction when she turned over the bottle and realised it was no cream but a facial soap lotion. she was horrified to tears

and today.. of ALL the days of her the study break, she had to choose today to go to school to study. so she was all psyched up for a productive day of comatose cramming.. humming happily past the gates at 4pm (please note the time) when she realised there was not a soul in sight. thinking it was because everyone was in the library or congregating at some underground catacombs she ditzily traipsed upstairs to the reading room oblivious to curious stares from the caretakers. boy oh boy was there going to be fun learning today for her cerebellum, she tried the doors of the study room. locked. this can't be right.. so she ran upstairs to the library, that was locked too. and then she realised that there was really seriously curiously worriedly not a single soul in school today.

it suddenly dawned upon her that everybody were in the underground catacombs! uh huh! that explains it all... they were all celebrating teacher's day underground! no wonder nobody was on earth. no wonder the caretaker shooed her out of school at FOUR THIRTY IN THE AFTERNOON just so he could lock up the place. no wonder she couldn't find a single comrade in for the same "educating the mind" cause like her. NO WONDER NOBODY WAS FREAKING IN SCHOOL. BECAUSE IT WAS TEACHER"S DAY!

grrrrrrrrrrrrrr -_-

this embarrassing news have been brought to you by yours truly

Joyce Lim unzipped at 10:55 PM with 4 comments
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