Stu(dying)?

Hiatus

Welcome to my fugly blog. Where everything is fugly.

I know, I changed the background AGAIN. But it was by accident I swear. I was just tweaking the template instead of studying and I inserted this JPEG made by Austin because I am @NoelHasFeathers which directly translates in Malay to Noel Mempunyai Bulu which translates back into English again to Noel Has Body Hair. I do have body hair so... It's not that funny ok?

Then he compensated his rudeness by drawing a nicer version. Bling bling Noel yo.

Hahaha thanks Austin! So I used it anyway.

EEEEK BUT MY BLOG NOT NICEEEEE. SIGH.

Anyway. I swear that I will spend like a whole freaking day making my blog look nicer. Not as messy as now. And as I've said before, there are TONS of plans for my bloggie dearest! So come back in 2014 lol

As you can see from the title. I'm going on a Hiatus. I just learned this word. Well basically I've been going on a Hiatus since the starting of the year. I've had so much events that I've wanted to blog about, but I resisted. I know like 20 years later, I'll regret what I did because I don't have anything to look back on my final year in Secondary school. Sure, there's facebook an all, but there's nothing that I  wrote, y'know?

But I hope it's worth it.

Okay, bye. Err. I don't know when I'll show up again ._______________.

So here's a photo of me recently.

Those aren't even my flowers.

Hiatus Angel

The Trials Essay

Future 

Dear children,
Who would have known that the Unicorns would be our saviour?

The memory is as clear as crystal. The year was 2313. I was only 5 years old. Born into a world where  colours don't exist anymore. Everything was in shades of browns and greys. The world was desolate and barren, new life was instantly swept away by the swirling tornadoes and icy blizzards.

Everyday we woke up to ash and dust. A different hill, a different patch of dead grass, but ash and dust, they are the same. Like all the other tribes, we too were nomads. Walking on and on when the Orange Star started to sink beneath the horizon, seeking shelter or food if any. We don't need maps of any sort because everywhere we go, it is the same. Shells of concrete, abandoned, plastic devices littering the floor, crushed by the past, satellites above our heads, frozen in orbit.

The people were the same too. Not a single hair on our bodies - what's the use for them anyway? Bathrooms were something of the past - eyes a pale grey, cheeks sunken, teeth rotted away, lips cracked and barely visible, donning rags and scraps of fabric scavenged from wherever we sheltered. Why did we still cover our skeletal frames, I did not understand. Perhaps it was to cover up the tumours and multi-hue rashes, dotted all around our bodies. Or was it that modesty still remained?

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years ticked by. But we did not die. We could not die. Our bodies had grown immune to death probably because we were surrounded by death all the time. We amused ourselves with tales from the time before; when our kind danced and sang songs of praise to green things called 'trees' and colourful things called 'flowers'. They said that once the world was beautiful, vibrant, bursting with life. But those were just bedtime stories so that we could sleep better knowing our has beens.

Perhaps it was that slight comfort, that slight hope that lead us to the Unicorns.

We were wandering about as usual, the Other-Orange-Star-That-Did-Not-Light was high up in the sky, round and full, illuminating our way. We stopped by another concrete shell, split up to search for anything edible and started to settle down till the Orange Star rose up again.

I wandered off to an unknown territory, drawn by a smell I cannot fathom. What met my eyes was a sight so glorious, so wonderful it still puts a smile to my face when I recall.

A lush field of green, green grass dotted with colours I have only ever dreamt of. Flowers, these things are called, flowers. They filled the air with a pleasant scent that lured me to take a deep breath and fill my sore lungs with it's nectar.

A single structure stood tall and proud in the middle of the field, it looked like an umbrella. Fascinated and curious, I slowly made my way across the field, towards the tree. The green grass withered ever so slightly when my bare feet came in contact with it but I was too mesmerized to take notice.

As I reached the structure, I placed my hands on it's firm and rough surface. Instantly, I felt rejuvenated, my hunger gone, my thirst quenched, tiredness evaporated. I felt alive!

It was at this moment I heard a 'clickety-clackety' sound. As I turned around, I was brought to my knees as the beautiful creature before me trotted to a halt and stood tall and proud before me. It's body was pure white, whiter than the virgin snow, and it's mane was an array of colours, glistening and changing hues as it breathed in and out. But the most magnificent thing was not the beast's body, but it's horn. Standing at 1 metre long, it was the colour of mother-of-pearls with a swirling patter delicately engraved.

I knew it was a unicorn. I just knew.

"Dear child," the voice of the Unicorn boomed in my head. "We have been waiting for all of you."

It was then time went into hyper drive. The Unicorns explained to what's left of us humans that they were magical creatures from The Other Side. They were sent here, to save us as we were facing extinction. They touched us, one-by-one, with their horns and instantly, we changed; hair grew from our heads, our slight frames filled out, our eyes were restored to a dash of vibrant colour. We were human once again.

The Unicorns left us with the knowledge of agriculture. Little did we know, these were the things that we had lost through endless years of pollution, of destruction, of war. The Unicorns also left us with the culture and art that we thought had been stolen away by our ignorance and carelessness.

The Unicorns restored our humanity. They made us realize that we brought destruction upon our own selves. They made us understand that there was more to life than just roaming around with no purpose. They showed us that Faith and Dreams has always been alive in this desolate land, patiently waiting for us to explore it like it's never been explored before.

Dear Children,
This is not a bedtime story. Do not walk down that same path. This may be our future.

This is my Trials essay. I don't like how it turned out. It is definitely wince worthy. I didn't have enough time. Towards the end, it became a bit nonsensical and ranty. I cringe.

However, I managed to score 49/50. What? I didn't even liked this essay that much. My Midterm essay was so much more better (you can read it here). Judge for yourself.

Update: I guess I should clarify, that this is not 100% my Trials essay. Of course, within the time limit, I made some grammar/spelling mistakes. And also, I've changed some parts of the last paragraphs, made it nicer and not too maniacal (because I had to literally write non-stop towards the end when my time ran out, what with my Maths teacher knocking on my table to remind me that I am too slow). So thank you for the lovely support and comments guys, I really appreciate it. I just wanted to make myself clear. 

I don't wanna talk about my Trials results. I've improved for every subject, but not as much as I liked. As my friends all score A's and A pluses, I'm here trying to be happy with my B plus.

I hate it when they get super pissed or emo when they get lower marks than what they expected. Am I supposed to feel sorry for them? Or am I supposed to feel sorry for myself because I am not up to their standards.

I know I shouldn't compare, I shouldn't complain, but there is so much rage inside of me. I don't know where to place it besides here.

And I'm going to fail Add Maths again. Even though I tried really really really fcuking hard to make it work this time. It didn't. Well. I don't know if I should laugh or cry, really.

Hah.

POSITIVITY, NOEL. POSITIVITY.

Remind me to read this after SPM. I want to laugh at ranting Noel. Really.

I don't think I'll have a chance to update this anymore. SPM kan?

I miss my brother.

Farewell, dear blog. Till we meet again.

Wants to Cry but Cannot Cry Because Life is Weird Like That Angel

We All Are Inifinite ∞

I'm tired. Really exhausted. I'm not allowed to complain. But I want to. There is this whiny child inside of me who just wants to rip out of this flabby teenager shell and kickcrypunchscreamsobthrowabigtantrum at everyone. Even the people who truly care for me.

Everything is in a mess. I'm having Trials now. I'm supposed to be cool and composed. Able to answer every single question thrown at me with explicit grace and composure.

But instead I just stay up late every single night before exam, trying to cram every single detail about the definition of electromagnetic wave, how to draw a histogram, dy/dx, what did Opu Daeng Menambun and his brothers do, moral values I've learned from a Children's book, how to translate something Chinese from a thousand years ago to something Chinese now, how did Islam come about to Southeast Asia, the definition of love, rational, willing to sacrifice for your country and rights of handicapped people.

I've gotten used to headaches and drowsiness. And the crazy need of completing the syllabus before having two hours of sleep every single dawn and vomiting everything out the next day then feeling like a complete failure because I couldn't answer the question the way I wanted it eventhough I could remember reading it, remember the page, remember the colour on the page, remember how the page looks like, remember the boxes on the page, remember the topic branch but I cannot remember the answers. And it's so frustrating because I remember but I just can't remember. And then your friends say they don't know either. And you feel better. But you know that they'll still get better results than you at the end of the day. And you just feel frustrated at yourself.

**********

I just finished reading Perks Of Being a Wallflower. I don't really know how to describe it. 

Powerful. Beautiful. Lyrical. Goosebumps. Raw. Thought-provoking. Real. Wow. 

It was like a cool refreshing stream. You jump inside, slightly shocked by the coldness of the water, and then you just follow it downstream where it leads to this vast lake of clarity and doodles. 

Not that that made any sense. 

I want to thank my bestest friend in the world for buying me a copy of this book. And KenYee for buying me another one because I lost my first copy. I'm literally surrounded by amazing people. I might start sobbing my head off like Charlie next. 

I'll do a proper review soon (post SPM)

**********

"Don't look too heavily upon your exam marks." Mum said as I was telling her about how badly I did in exams today, "just know you did your best." 

It's very motivational, but in our education system, marks are everything. 

**********

I don't wanna learn for the sake of exams. I just wanna learn for the sake of learning. To know. To expand my mind. To expose myself. Not to just get a certificate people cheatsteallieburnhouses for.

**********

Ew, I'm doing my emotional ranting again. I can't seem to stop. I guess this is just how I blog. 

So I found this video on Youtube. It's really inspiring. It's those videos that you must watch when you feel like sh*t. When you feel like the most fat and ugly person on Earth. Unloved and useless. I know I have those kind of days. So you must too. So yeah, go watch it okay? 

Current Mood: Post Perks of Being a Wallflower and Feel Good 101 high

My emotions dip and soar like a roller coaster. I'm sorry if what I wrote up there was too depressing. 

I have days where I feel amazing, happy, loved and infinite. I want everyday to be like that. 

Stay strong. Not just me. You too. If you're taking your SPM this year, do your best. Push yourself. A few more days and it'll be over. Even if you're not, you're just having a bad day, it's okay. Even the brightest of stars flicker once in a while. Just take a deep breath and throw all the negativity away to the blue blue skies and count your blessings. If you're still not okay, come and talk to me. There's a reason you're here on my blog -- call it fate, call it destiny, I'll be your shoulder to cry on and keep you in my prayers. You just need to remember to keep your chin up ; 

BECAUSE WE ALL ARE INFINITE

Peace and Love, 

Infinite Angel ∞ 

What's This?

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Everything Is A Blur

I didn't want this post to be rant-y and disorganised but I guess that's how Noel rolls.

If you are observant or is my undying fan, you would've noticed that I have updated the photos below my blog, which includes all the people that make me smile (I didn't include my family there not because my friends are more important than my family, but to protect my family's privacy). Also, I've added tabs to my blog! Of course, it's 'under construction' which basically means I can only doodle in it after SPM.

ASS PEE YAM 

You're probably wondering why I'm blogging. Well, it's currently the Raya Holidays. Selamat Hari Raya to all my Muslim friends, by the way. I hope you guys forgive me if I have insulted you all in any way. The cute thing about this year is that we have one week Raya Hols + August Hols. Usually they just mash everything up, but not sure why this year they made it a two-week holiday. So we're halfway through our holidays and I managed to nab the laptop.

I tweeted: 'Give me something to blog about.' (I know. I'm not supposed to be on Twitter, but it's just we're in the holidays and I needed to socialize a bit.) And surprisingly, people responded! Check it out:

I know right. My editing skills suck. I'm still learning though.

Anywaysssss. They gave some lovely ideas. Too bad I'm not in the mood to write any. But I did write them down on a sticky note! And I swear, after my Trials I WILL WRITE THEM (on a piece of paper first, then if I have time to nab the laptop, I'll type it out on my blog, kay? So sorry!)

Alright. As I was saying, I'm having my holidays now. And I'm wasting wasting wasting time.

Behold: My Brain. Yeah, I stole borrowed the brain picture and didn't bother to cover up the watermark.

I don't know what's going on inside also.

Time is just passing real quick. Suddenly I'm gonna start driving, suddenly I'm gonna sit for SPM, suddenly I'm gonna end my High School days, suddenly I'm gonna go to college, suddenly I'm gonna forget my friends.

Suddenly suddenly suddenly.

I'm terrified. 

Of everything. 

I don't know if I can handle life.

Mum says don't stress myself out too much. But if I don't stress myself, how am I going to push myself? All I did in these holidays is procrastinate procrastinate procrastinate.

So many events that I missed out/am going to miss out.

Sports Day. Canteen Day. And I'm gonna miss Graduation Night too. Whopeeeee. Nobody has the rights to change the date unless you're the Principal. I mean it's just stupid. Who organizes an event 2 days before Christmas? Christmas isn't just some Santa Claus event with presents all around. It's CHRISTMAS. It's Jesus' birthday. We're supposed to spend it with family. Of course, I won't be around. I'll be at Thailand or at Kedah, with my family. See? No one can do a thing. Oh, it's so sad that I can't come. It's not the same without me. Poppycock. Help me persuade the committee then. Change the date. Make it earlier. Of course, when this idea is suggested, everyone just smiles and wishes me a happy holiday. Delightful. I'll be leaving the school on the last day of SPM. Pat my buttocks and just walk away without any celebration or memorandum. Fun.

FLUSTERED.

I'm not getting any skinnier. I'm never gonna be skinny.

Great. Add Maths. I'm starting to understand you. Try to understand me too. I don't have much time with you left.

BOJIO BOJIO BOJIO BOJIO BOJIO 

JIO LIAO ALSO CANNOT COME LAH

I wrote my worst English essay with a dystopian setting and Unicorns. *flashes rainbows* Idiot. I didn't have enough time and the ending was crap. Surprisingly I have confidence for my BM essay, teacher cannot accuse me of having no 'original ideas' anymore. And my Chinese essay... Fingers crossed. 

Noel Work Hard. Noel Work Hard. Noel Work Hard. 

Chant it like a spell, maybe it'll come true. 

Mum wants me to wake up at 8am later to swim. I cannot slim down. I need to slim down. How to slim down. I eat so less already. She'll let me drive if I wake up early. Okay. We'll see about that. 

WORK HARD. 

This is a weird post. Maybe I shouldn't have updated at all. 

Blur Angel

Winks at You

Oh my gosh. I bypassed 33,333 blogviews. 

WHAT THE HECK?

*composes self.* Of course, everything was in my expectations.

HAHAHAHAHA No, seriously.

Okay, my brain is a bit frazzled with Trials coming (I AM SO GONNA GET CRAP RESULTS AND NEVER GETTING A SCHOLARSHIP) and all those silly deadlines to meet.

I will do a long post soon (as in probably when I can steal the laptop lol).

Meanwhile, here's a sexy photo of me.

THANK YOU

Sexified. I couldn't have done it without you.

Oh and of course I'll update my birthday post if I have time. IFFFFFF. Okay? But I want to do it though. It was a really big thing for me.

Okayyy. ASSIGNMENTS AND FOLIOS AND PROJECTS AND CAN I FAINT NOW AND WAKE UP NEXT YEAR

BYE!

I LOVE YOUUUUU

Hectic Angel

Oh Cupcakes and Flowers

Truly blessed :)

Eek?

I'm turning 17 soon?

I don't feel grown up.

Flashing.

Flashing. 

Flashing.

What do I want? 

Flowers, stars and cupcakes, please. 

Oh and books. Lots and lots of books please. And albums too.

1. Perks of Being A Wallflower
2. The Fault In Our Stars
3. Lungs - Florence + The Machine
4. Ceremonials - Florence + The Machine
5. Mylo Xyloto - Coldplay
6. X&Y - Coldplay
7. Night Visions - Imagine Dragons
8. Born to Die - Lana Del Rey
9. Radiohead (All their albums, actually)
10. I'm getting greedy. I should stop.

Wishlist. Here it is.

Stealing photos from Tumblr again, Noel? 

16-Going-On-17 Angel

I have a crappy blog template, I know.

I feel sad because my blog isn't 'cool' or 'hi-tech' enough.

Hmm.

But my words matter.

After SPM. After.

Criss-Cross Lost Angel

The Midterm Essay:

FASHION

     I stepped out on the runway, slightly dazzled by the spotlight. All along the side of the runway, people were clapping and smiling and throwing flowers in my direction. I was close to tears, disbelieving. After all my years of hard work, I have finally made my dreams come true. 

    It all started when I was around 5  years of age. My grandfather was a tailor. I would be the busybody in his shop and help him when he was working. The amount of curiosity and fascination I had for that feet powered sewing machine! I would sit by his side, peering with awe and wonder as my grandfather created beautiful pieces of clothing for men right before my very eyes. When the shop closed, he would teach me how to use the sewing machine, how to draw the design for basic clothing and how to sew with a thread and needle.

    I guess it started to grow onto me. Of course, it helped too, when I received my first electric sewing machine when I was eight years old. I would shut myself in my room and experiment on different kinds of material - laces, velvets, cotton, satin - and make clothes for myself. Mother didn't need to buy me any of those pretty party dresses young girls threw tantrums for. I would see them, draw out the designs out on a piece of paper and sew it myself. Afterwards, I would put it on and twirl around in it for my grandfather to comment. He was always supportive of my interest in sewing and he would constantly supply me with meters and meters of cloth for me to make all my own clothes. 

    As I grew older, I grew out of all the pink satin ribbons and frilly dresses. I started to collect magazines from all around. I would sometimes starve myself at school just so I could save up my money to buy the next issue of Vogue or Neon. Mother was terribly upset when she found out that I used up all my money on "worthless" magazines, because we were not very wealthy but my passion for fashion and designing was burning fiercely. Instead of buying the magazines, I would rummage through the recycled papers at the recycling center just to get my hands on these discarded magazines. I would then tear out the pages with those pin-thin models wearing clothes that inspire me and I would fill my walls with these pages. 

    At school, I excelled in Art and I was taken by my Art teacher as her special 'pet'. My friends at school would tease me but I appreciated Miss Anne's guidance. She would teach me all I had to know about Art and Fashion and the beautiful connection between. I would spend countless hours in the Art room, flipping through historical fashion books and having discussions about the latest fashions. She became more than a teacher to me, she became my best friend. 

    My most exciting and fascinating memory with Miss Anne was when we sneaked in together to a fashion show at the National Fashion Expo in Kuala Lumpur Convention Centre. My favourite designer, Marc Jacobs, was holding a fashion show there and I desperately wanted to go. Miss Anne reassured me that I would get to watch it and we set off to the bustling venue. We dressed up as extravagant ladies and managed to bypass all the security guards. Everything was extremely surreal. 

    As we stepped inside the hall, I was utterly gobsmacked. The show had just started and the music was pumping everywhere. The models dressed in the most beautiful and chique designs were sashaying down the runway, bursting with elegance and poise. Light bulbs flashed everywhere as photographers tried to capture a perfect shot of those intricate designs. But the focus was not entirely on the runway itself. Below the runway, the audience were a feast on the eyes too. All of them were dressed magnificently in the latest fashions and some designers themselves were lounging on the seats casually. I was absolutely awestruck. 

    After this absolutely thrilling and eye-opening experience, I told myself that I must achieve and be the best designer anyone has ever seen. As the great American writer James Huneker said: 'All men of action are dreamers.', I set my goal and worked hard to achieve it. Along the way there were many hardships but with the help of some beautiful and gold hearted people, my problems were easily conquered. Without the guidance and support of some people like grandfather, Miss Anne and even my mother, I would have not had the strength to pull through and grabbed at my dreams.

    And now, as I take another bow at my first ever fashion show, after receiving the 'Designer of the Year' award, I know that fashion is my sanctuary and it will never die. Which is why our dreams and passions should never die too. Let your wildest dreams and passions burn as bright as the sun, work very hard for it, and one day you will reap what you sow. I took my final bow with tears in my eyes and new ideas for my next clothing line, forming in my head....

 

Hi guys! So I'm still on Phantom Mode, so yeah. I'm sure I wont get a chance to post anymore seeing as my Trials are coming up. 

I wanted to share my essay with you guys mainly because I thought... Nah, who am I joking. I WANTED TO SHOW OFF MY ESSAY HERE BECAUSE I THINK IT'S A REALLY NICE ESSAY OKAY. 

I actually got 47/50 for my essay. I was really happy but I guess teacher didn't give me full marks for some reason. So I went and asked teacher. Here's how the conversation went. 

Teacher: Yes Noel, how can I help you?

Me: Hi teacher, I wanted to ask you for any comments. 

Teacher: Actually there is no further comments, Noel. Your essay was basically perfect. 

Me: *gushes slightly* Oh no teacher. I was just asking you for your opinions. 

Teacher: *flips paper to the back* I wanted to give you 49/50 because you deserved it. But I had to put 47/50 because there's always 'room for improvement'. 

Me: Err. 

Yeah well. I don't know what I'm trying to portray either.

So did you like my essay? *Feels shy and insecure all of a sudden* I actually wanted to talk about source of inspiration. 

We got to choose form 5 questions. One of them, the most popular one was complete-the-essay: "I couldn't believe what I saw......" Most of my friends chose that. Then there were the factual essay, which Wai Jin chose (he got the same marks as me in the end but he had so much grammar mistakes sorry and his essay was super boring sorry). I was actually already planning to write the one-word-essay and imagine the amount of joy when I found out it was: Fashion.

I guess I got inspiration from my grandfather. He really is a tailor. He's 80 something and going strong, still making clothes for gentlemen. Though my deepest regret is probably that I never did learn sewing form him. I was also inspired by all those fashion posts I see on tumblr. Also form America's Next Top Model (I'm not joking). Also, I'm inspired by some of my favourite writers - Cathy Cassidy and Jacqueline Wilson - who always include friendly and nice art teachers in their novels. 

Did I just do an 'Acknowledgements'? I think I just did. Fine, I'll do a dedication too. 

This essay is for my Grandfather. He's an amazing man.

I have to make something clear. I don't know Art. Well, I can't draw, and I don't know how to design either. Whatever I wrote above was purely fiction, except for my grandfather. Though I didn't twirl around in a dress for him either :p sorry. 

And I think my ending was a bit too forced. And slightly sloppy. Sorry. This was done in an 1 hour 45 minute time frame. Well, minus out the Section A. Less than that. So I can't really be blamed, right? 

And I would really like to hear honest opinions about this. So please, if you're reading this just leave a comment, alright? 

I'm working on my book-review thing. I really want to make it happen. I've been practicing hahaha. But of course, everything is strictly after SPM. However, I seriously need to makeover my blog (again). So let's keep our fingers crossed, eh?

Okay. The night is late. 

 

I need to remember this. 

17 days till I turn 17. Help. 

I guess I'm only really good at writing. 

Fashionista Angel

It's One of Those Nights.

Again. Noel, Laptop, Internet, 2.25 am.

We have a bit of a habit growing here. 

It's those nights, when you feel emotional all of a sudden for no particular reason.

Sadness washes over you

Like waves beating 

To and fro

To and fro

To and fro

It throws. 

I don't want to think. I want to immobilize my brain with pretty pictures, meaningless sitcoms and just food that stays in your everywhere. 

You know that feeling, when you have a million thoughts zipping across your mind, but you cannot even grasp one thought to be put in paper? 

Yes. Exactly. 

I feel like a failure. Perhaps I am. 

What is this... Work hard? To exert a certain amount of force and energy and patience and time and space and matter and E=mc^2.

I'm not gonna try to even grasp a thought. I'm gonna just open my hands, and catch whatever fleeting thought that decides to humor me. 

I've made new friends. Surprisingly. These friends I made. They're... Different. Perhaps living next to a New Village all my life has exposed me to people. But with this Journalist thing, I'm exposed to a whole new level of people. I'm not saying they're higher up, they're richer, they're better. All I'm saying is that they're more... Intelligent.

Do you realize how frustrating it is, for me. To turn on my social networks, and have it choked, yes choked with brainless updates. People updating their statuses, just for the sake of updating their statuses. People taking a photo of basically nothing, or people taking a photo of themselves, adding a meaningful caption that has nothing to do with anything, spamming instagram 'just so they can'. I'm sick of it. (Let us leave twitter out of this.) The thing is, you can't unsubscribe or unfollow them because you are meant to be their 'friends' and you're supposed to be 'nice'. 

But, making new friends. English speaking friends. PJ people. Educated people with their own opinions. I can assure you, conversations with them are much more interesting than just posting-a-pretty-photo-of-yourself-with-an-extremely-deep-out-of-context-quote-and-expecting-people-to-call-you-pretty-just-because-you're-pretty. These new friends actually use their brains before they speak and give good suggestions. Which is a relief. 

Who am I to say this? Well, to be honest, I am usually impulsive and hyperactive when around strangers, but I know how to differentiate serious matters and fun matters. I can sober up and be serious too. I find such joy conversing with them. Not that my usual friends aren't good enough. Just that it's a breath of fresh air. My mother used to say: 'You're just a PJ person born near a New Village.'

Your thoughts are leading you nowhere. 

Then there is me. My body. 

NOEL IS FATFATFATFATFATFATFATFATFATFATFATFAT

out of shape

I eat too much. I don't eat healthy enough. I don't exercise. I exercise the wrong things. 

FAT THIGHS.

NON-EXISTENT WAIST.

ROUND FACE.

DOUBLE CHIN.

BUTTERFLY SLEEVES.

PROTRUDING TUMMY.

UGLY UGLY UGLY UGLY UGLY UGLY UGLY UGLY UGLY

I wasn't supposed to roam free. Lock me up. Starve me. 

Cry alone. 

Then there is inside of me. My soul. My faith. 

Confirmation is coming. I passed. A relief. But I expected it. But of course it took my by surprise too. Which makes this statement redundant. I'm redundant. 

No you're  redundant.

I can't wait for camp. Not just the people. But to be with God. To inch closer and closer to Him. I want to wrap myself at His feet. Listen to His aura. Sing with His angels. 

Sometimes, He may be the one who keeps me sane. 

I don't fight with you. Even though I want to. There are always a hundred million things I could shout back at you but I don't. I was taught not to. But I can't hide my tears. The tears always come. They're always there. 

I'm about to turn 17 in less than a month and I feel that I am still a child. Incapable of things. I don't know how to cook, how to drive to the city, how to purchase groceries. I am a robot, programmed to do what my master wishes. 

Brother is leaving in September. I wish him all the best. Personally I want him to leave. So he will come back, a better man. But the Parents are worried that when he leaves the house will be in shambles. 

The second child is useless. And ornament. Makes a mess, never cleans it.

I'm trapped in my own bubble

Pop

and I'll crash land

to reality

where it might kill me

once and for all

I don't like it, when people question about what I write here. Even my parents. I can't explain. All I will say is: 'I don't know.' Shrug. Smile it off. 

Everything is here. My thoughts. Directly translated into this mass of words on whatever my current background is. 

I don't beautify my thoughts. I'm not even trying to be subtle here. 

If you know where to look, you will find it.

I will continue to write regardless of what direction I pursue. 

Art cannot be contained.

I do not claim to be an artist. Just perhaps an imaginative, fierce child with a strong pen in her hands. 

I actually do want to keep a journal. Writing all my thoughts, recording, testing. But. I can't. I wont. I don't. 

Don't ask me why, I don't have an answer.

I want 33333 views. I want it. Not because I'm an attention wh*re, or anything. But I want to see, if people actually want to read what I have to say. Even if they're just uninteresting photos and things. 

Nobody wants to read this pathetic thing you idiot.

Hmm. Well. Seems like it's not going to come true. 

To make things clear a bit. This is not a post. This is a phantom. I can delete this anytime I want. I don't care. 

This generation is all about ME ME ME ME ME & I I I I I. 

I truly agree.

I tire of myself. 

Farewell once again. 

It was coincidence that brought us together. And it is fate that will draw us apart. 

It's not up to me to bring me back. It's you. 33333 views. Almost there but not quite there. 

Silly child.

Watch out for the stars. Cause I'm still roaming amongst them. 

Noel. Laptop. Internet. Sleep. 3.29a.m.

Lost Angel

I'm not gonna continue blogging anymore. I don't see the point. Nobody appreciates what I write anyway.

Peace out.

Finally.

Goodbye.

No Ideas For a Cool Title Therefore I Will Write This Long Sentence Here at This Empty Bar. Hah.

Hello my dear Humans! :) I'm baaaaaaaack! I just finished my March Test today! *pops confetti*

Not much reason to celebrate, actually. I probably did badly in my tests. I hope I don't fail my Add Maths again. Ugh. I'm sick of failing. I tried so hard this time, but I don't understand why  I just can't seem to do well every time! So so, frustrating.

Oh well. What to do? Work harder.

So, I just wanted to tweak my blog template a little bit. It looks weird, I know. But I don't have the patience and time to make a pretty template for my blog. *sigh* Maybe next time.

I forgot what I wanted to blog about. See? Such a fail.

Well, I guess, after this test, everything will go topsy turvy now.

Tomorrow is our school's Cross Country Run. The 'country' we're crossing being the area around my school. Guys are running around 7km and girls 3.5km. This will be my first year ever participating in a cross country run. And honestly? I'm freaked out.

Obviously, I'm not an athlete. All my friends are. Well, Joyanne isn't. To quote her: 'Not my scene.' And Hui Ying. But Hui Ying does ballet, so it isn't really fair. The rest of them are athletes. They represent the school in track and field. Which makes me feel... Fat. And sad. More to fat, honestly.

I don't know if I should run tomorrow. I mean, I said I would. And I will go there and run. But then should I run run? Should I give it my all? Or should I just walk all the way? It would be super awkward if I did run. You would see a bumbling female homo sapien gasping for air, cheeks red. It would be so ugly and embarrassing. All my other athlete friends would be flying in the front, effortless. And me? Behind. Well, technically not behind. The Behind would be where those students who are not giving a sh*t about the purpose of this run. I would be trapped in the awkward middle.

Trying hard, but not good enough.

It's always like that.

Well, next week is English Week. And as the ambassador for Stuff@School (more on that sometime in the future), I have to promote Stuff@School, at The Star to push it to higher levels in my school. It's next Monday and I haven't thought of how to present it yet. I was thinking something interactive and lively. Oh gosh. I don't know. And of course the whole of ELS is performing. Which... I will be playing guitar. And the rest of the society will be singing.

I hope it goes well.

Hmm. Camps. Next weekend is Alpha Course. It's a camp at church. And I am supposed to find songs to sing there? I don't know I don't know I don't know.

Suddenly realizing how rusty my guitar skills are. *sigh*

SPM SPM SPM SPM SPM SPM SPM SPM SPM SPM SPM

Obsessed with Coldplay.

Oh, it's gonna rain. It's gonna be slippery tomorrow. Hmm.

Hey, Arvie, I miss you! :) I don't know what happened to my blogger. It has always been weird. But now that I have found you again, I'll stalk you. I'll stalk you good. You should teach me Tagalog so I can wow this Filipino scout I met at a Campfire xD

Kay, bye first. Might update my CNY post with more pictures.

Stay tuned! :)

VIVA ENGLISH!

Very Freaked Out Because She Blabbered So Much On This Blog Angel

Unbirthday Month

Hey March. You're gonna be awesome, I can feel it. 

 March Babies, GO AWAYYYYY! :P

Check out some photos I took in school on the 26th of Feb! :)

 Cam-wh*ring in the class cause we cool like that ;)

 PHOTOSHOOTING MADNESS, lol! With me directing ._.

 I don't know what Hui Ying was doing x)

 Yi Wen being EVILLLLL!

 I was trying to smize. Did it work? x)

 Yi Wen's sexy hair flip!

How can one not be happy when one gets free strawberry muffins straight from the oven? :D #PinkCheeked #ChubbyMonster

I took the above photos (except those with me posing, then that was Yi Wen). Bwahahahaha. I'm delirious.

I'll do a detailed post about Starstruck! 2013, Stuff@School, The Star sooooooooon! :)

LOL, March Test. Whut?

Peace Out! More school photos to come soon! :)

March Hare: "She doesn't know what an unbirthday is."

March Hare Angel

Don't Read This, Please.

Don't read this post. It's true. Don't.

I haven't done this in a while. Write a wordy post that actually means something instead of just pictures. I do enjoy sharing my pictures here, but the reason I have a blog is because I wanna write about growing up. Being a teen. Being me.

I realize that people read this blog. Surprisingly. And they actually enjoy doing so. Which I'm embarrassed and flattered.

Well, today was... Strange? There was this Sejarah (History) talk. And I don't know what happened. I sat beside Ash. And then they were talking about their Athletics stuff. They as in Shelvin, Dhipa, YiWen and the boys. I'm not an Athlete. I don't qualify. The rest of them has been Athletes since Form 1/2. Well, YiWen is new, but that doesn't count. They're a big big family. And it's fun.

So they were doing Athletic things - The name list and checking out the shirt. And they were laughing and having so much fun. I just sat at the side and stared. I told myself I wasn't going to say anything, cause I knew things would turn bad if I did. But I couldn't hold my stupid tongue back. They were actually in the process of choosing one 'group signature name' whatever that means for their Olahraga (Athletic) Gang. Then I practically shouted: 'Yalah, choose it. Neglect me lah. Leave me sitting here.' I'm pretty sure I said more than that, but I forgot the particular words.

Then they laughed, caused I've played this card many times, as a joke. I was joking then. I really was. But perhaps 20% of it is true. Perhaps even more.

And they shooed Kuha away from his seat and asked me to move inside. I refused. They asked me why. I just shook my head. I was comfortable where I was. I didn't wanna move. I'm so bloody big and clumsy that I would probably step on someone or fall down on something. But then Kuha did move behind me and joined the boys and the seat was just there, empty. I was debating wether to move my humungous arse when Ashley, looking dark, stood up and moved to the seat. So now, there is an empty seat next to me with Shelvin on my right.

Now I felt even more awkward. I refused. And retracted to my own thoughts. I felt awful. Truly awful.

You don't fit in. Whispers in my mind. Then this line got on loop and my mood slipped away.

I'm scared when I'm in a huge group of people. I think I may have lost the ability to socialize. I don't wanna be loud and crazy all the time. It's tiring.

I was actually thinking about a poem then. I failed. The most lines I could write was:

When inspiration dies,

All I wanna do is cry.

My poem went down the drain. And I felt like crap. I'm utterly useless. USELESS. I can't do anything. I have not achieved anything. Not a thing. 

You want me to list out all my achievements?

I can't. I don't have any. 

I feel empty. Useless. Unimportant. Annoying. Loud and bossy but empty on the inside. 

I don't know what this is. This could probably just be PMS or what. 

Whatever. It doesn't matter.

I feel odd. 

Good night. 

Weird Angel

2008 6B'ians Steamboat Gathering

We were in the same class once, but our friendship lasted so long.

I actually organized this event. Heheheh. Let me syok sendiri  a little bit, can? And we reached a record breaking: 41 people attending! 

2/2/13, a day to remember.

I don't wanna yap anymore. So enjoy this GIF I made and some photos! :D

Spot me! :D

 Words cannot describe this photo.

They were singing our primary school song. Seriously.  

Spazzed out.

I wanna write loads, but I'm lazy. So deal with it.

Miss them already! :')

Jealous ah? Go make your own gatherings! :D

Gathering Angel