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Wednesday, February 25, 2009 @ 5:10 PM
[ Page ripper ] Something really weird happened today.. or last night.. I wouldn't know, because I was asleep. I woke up in the middle of the night with a piece of paper right on my face, and I remember flinging it aside and swearing. Next morning, I wake up, and I see that piece of paper that I'd flung aside. It was the very first page of a book that I'd borrowed from Sean. It was a clean tear, too. A page in its entirety. And I didn't tear that page out, it was intact when I went to sleep. And the book that the page originated from? I'd placed it on a stack of other books before I went to sleep - it was on the table beside the bed. The books weren't right beside me.. it was my phone, Avis' phone, space, space, and then the books. If I were to take the book whilst still lying on the bed, I'd have to extend my entire arm out before being able to reach the book. And when I woke up, the book was still on the stack of books, albeit slightly askew. I don't sleepwalk, by the way. So the question is, if I did it in my sleep, did I: Stretch and reach my entire arm out for the book, nicely flip it open to the very very first page, grab hold of the book in a damn good position in order to tear it out nice and clean without leaving any bits of the page behind, put the book back in its original position, and then leave the page on my face? And only then to wake up from the feeling of that page on my face and throwing it aside. Wtf? I'm seriously sorry that it had to happen to Sean's book, because I know he values his books. Well, most people value their property and wouldn't like stuff they loan out damaged, and I fully intend to get Sean a new copy. But that doesn't bother me as much as the fact that the page-ripping incident occurred and I have no valid reason for why it happened whatsoever. It's fucking weird. I am puzzled. And slightly creeped out. And yet I know it makes no sense at all for a ghost to come in the room, merrily tear out a page and then proceed to leave it on my face. So yes. This mystery will persist until the day I die.
Sunday, February 22, 2009 @ 5:23 AM
[ Eyes ] There was a little boy and he lived in a house. When he turned seven, he decided that he wasn't afraid of the dark anymore. He began opening his eyes at night instead of closing them tight like he usually would. One night, when he opened his eyes, there was a woman standing in the corner of his room. He wasn't afraid. The next night, the woman was sitting at the foot of his bed, her back turned towards him. She seemed harmless. The night after that, she was lying beside him, her face turned towards him. She was pretty, except for the red scar, and she stared at him a long time. The little boy kept his eyes opened for a long time, on many nights. The people in his room didn't really matter to him, even when it got crowded. Old and young, male and female, fully-limbed and not, they were all just there to him. He was oddly unaffected. They stared at him when his eyes were open, as he looked about the room or spaced out or thought about school. They stared at him a lot. They stared not at his arms or body or legs, they simply stared at his face. All the time. He wondered what they were thinking about when they did that, but eventually he supposed that they mustn't think at all. Spirits have no such capability, after all. And on a night as normal as the rest, he arose from his sleep, opened his eyes, and his room was crowded as always. He stretched, accustomed to their presence. He closed his eyes and gave a big yawn accompany that stretch. And when he opened his eyes again, the little boy realised that he was blind. Spirits don't care much for little boys. They don't care about little boys' arms or bodies or legs. They don't even care much for their faces. They possess all (or most) of these things, after all. It's the eyes, you see. It's the eyes that open at night, that have such light, that radiate such soul, that they can't help but draw near to you. And when the eyes are open at night, they're the only things that shine in the dark. And spirits, they don't know any better, you see... they can't help themselves. They can only try and take back what they knew when they were alive. And the light in the eyes at night is their compulsion. And they will look at it long and hard before deciding to take it back, even if doesn't belong to them. ps. This wasn't meant for my literary agent. It was just something that came to me while lying awake at night. With my eyes open, naturally.
Thursday, February 19, 2009 @ 5:32 AM
[ Chelsea ] Terry's dog Chelsea is an absolute sweetheart. I don't think I've ever had a dog come up to me the first time I meet it, lie down, and then lay its head on my lap. That's one manja dog. And if she gets up, and you continue petting her, she'll lie back down. It feels more like she knows you want to pet her so she'll stay, as opposed to her staying because she wants somebody to pet her, if that makes sense. Like she's doing it for you and not for herself. And apparently, Chelsea doesn't take to everyone too, so it's nice to know that she likes me :) I'll bring her some treats the next time, if I remember to.
@ 5:04 AM
[ Happiness ] Happiness can be an elusive thing, when you think about it. No one, I believe, is happy 24 hours of every day. If they are, they're under some serious medication. I suppose most of us strive for being happy at least half of the time. And if you can be happy most of the time, well, good to be you. I don't think you realise how happy you are when you are happy, until you really think about it. It requires some sort of cognitive thought. I mean, sure, you FEEL happy. But it's not until you think about why you're happy and adding it all up that you realise, "I think I should be a little happier than I feel because all those things deserve for me to be so." It might be odd but that's how I work, I suppose. Thinking - and all its practicalities. And when you're unhappy, it's always good to remember the happy things. Usually, the unhappy things can't bring you down too low if you've been happy enough, or happy for a long period of time. If you haven't been happy in awhile, and shit hits the fan, then well it sux2b u.
Sunday, February 15, 2009 @ 3:56 PM
[ Wha.. WoW? ] What the hell did I do before WoW? The past 2 months or so was a blur. It's somewhat depressing that even though I'm not playing the game and not looking to play it (just for right now, anyway), the result is that I'm left with way too much time of my hands. I'm not out today, and I'm not WoWing, so I'm left twiddling my thumbs. I'm literally lying there, questioning my purpose in life. I got so bored I finished my homework that isn't due for another 2 weeks. It only took me an hour and so now I'm blogging because, well, I can either watch teevee for another ten million hours or I can do something that requires me to use some small functioning part of my brain as well as my fingers (whew! Talk about a workout!) and construct whole, coherent sentences. Okay Kum just called. Laters.
Sunday, February 8, 2009 @ 10:55 AM
[ Reference me ] Is referencing really that difficult? People seem to have such difficulty with it. It's not that hard once you get the hang of it. Go to the site that has the referencing system you're supposed to use (and it actually supplies with you examples of how to do in-text citations and references), COPY AND PASTE IT ONTO YOUR DOCUMENT, then fill it in with your own relevant information. Things to do: 1. For in-text citations, please put the fucking thing before your fucking full-stop. Like (this). Not like. (this) Can? Okay? Thanks. 2. Grammar, people. Grammar. English is not Chinese directly translated. But I guess you can't help it if you've already really tried. Sigh. 3. It'd be nice if you accurately copied your own references when doing your in-text citations. The year 2006 is the year 2006, not year 2006 in your reference and 2007 in your in-text citations. Am I supposed to know which fucking year your reference is from and edit it accordingly for you? OH, I SUPPOSE I AM! RIGHT? BECAUSE I'M DOING THE FUCKING EDITING AND GRAMMAR CHECK AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN CHECK BEFORE YOU SENT YOUR FUCKING 2 PAGE DOCUMENT TO ME AND NOW THAT I'M COMPILING EVERYTHING I NEED TO SIEVE THROUGH 15 PAGES INSTEAD OF 2 AND CHECKING BACK AND FORTH AND SCROLLING UP AND BLOODY DOWN IN ORDER TO MAKE SURE THAT YOUR IN-TEXT CITATIONS AND REFERENCES TALLY. Wow, fucking awesome. 4. Please make sure that your in-text citations exist in your list of references. Likewise, please ensure that you do not have a bunch of references that you pulled out of your asshole that aren't in your in-text citations. It's easy peasy! 1+1 = 2! In-text ciations + References = ZOMG Correlation!! = Correct!! = I won't spend motherfucking 2 hours double-checking your fucking work and babysitting your document to see if you can MATCH YOUR FUCKING IN-TEXT CITATIONS TO YOUR REFERENCES AND FUCKING VICE VERSA YOU MORON. HOW CAN YOU EVEN HAVE LIKE, SIX REFERENCES THAT AREN'T. EVEN. IN. YOUR. FUCKING. WORK. Oh. And even better. We're doing a project based on facts. Everything is referenced. Confirm guarantee plus chop. And in your entire document you only have 2 references when you damn well need like, 10 of them based on the content that you have. And these 2 references that you have? They AREN'T EVEN IN YOUR FUCKING LIST OF REFERENCES. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT. THE. FUCK. Do I look like a fucking babysitter? Want me to hold your hand? Pat your head? Wipe your snot? Tie your hair? Shove a fucking silver spoon down your throat til you gag and die from a horrible death of having cold hard metal gouge out your esophagus and innards? Jesus fucking christ. And even better, you don't come for the fucking project meeting, and I find out from your brother that it's because it's your boyfriend's birthday. Wow. You are so fucking lame. The only reason you're in our group is because we've worked with your brother several times before and he's a good worker. And it's the first time we're working with you. We let you into the group BECAUSE of your brother. You are nothing. And you can't even bother to make a good impression. First project meeting and you don't come. Granted, your brother wasn't really supposed to say why you weren't at the meeting, but the truth is out, and it's that YOU'RE A STUPID GIRLY GIRL WHO MISSES HER FUCKING FIRST PROJECT MEETING BECAUSE SHE HAS TO SPEND IT WITH HER BOYFRIEND BECAUSE IT'S HIS FUCKING BIRTHDAY BOO HOO FUCKING HOO. I don't give a shit. About you. Or your boyfriend. I only care about this project and the lecturer who is the most anal lecturer about references and etc etc etc. Pathetic. You can grow some references outta your ass, why not grow some fucking responsibilities too? You fucking imbecile. And I sent you an email, and you had better damn well do your fucking work right, because I HATE FUCKING BABYSITTING. Why don't I like kids? Cos they get lost and die. And your work is the same. Your work is lost and it's dead and you can't add up or correlate. That last line rhymed. Anger has its uses. Your work is lost And it's dead And you can't add up Or correlate Anyways, it's back to editing for me. The second project is gonna be ubbbbbbbbbber long and I'm gonna tell everyone to use the referencing system from our school website. That we have been told to use before. Many times. It's not anything new. It's old. Old like YOUR FUCKING MISTAKES GOD FUCKING DAMN IT! Whatever. This is my job and I will do it well. But if they give me shit the next round I am gonna have to shout at somebody so that I will feel better.
Saturday, February 7, 2009 @ 8:46 PM
[ To 80 ] Thursday, 5th Feb. 13 days & 13 hours. Feral druid. For now.
@ 8:09 PM
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