Diary of a Bee Hoon

2009-11-07T18:58:00.000+08:00

OH MY BRAIN IT IS A BLACK HOLE OF CAPSLOCK

2009-11-06T12:36:00.001+08:00

I need to stop reading too much into things :/

Argh assignment FLAMES SHOOTING OUT OF MY EYES!!!

2009-11-02T18:39:00.006+08:00

¹If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. ²If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. ³If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

⁴Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

⁸Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. ⁹For we know in part and we prophesy in part, ¹⁰but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. ¹¹When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. ¹²Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

¹³And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

P.S. Images are not mine, but they are beautiful, yes? Passage is from 1 Corinthians 13 :)

2009-10-27T17:17:00.002+08:00

So you think Mag can sing?

I don't think nothin' at all.

2009-10-26T18:07:00.002+08:00

So in the hypothetical situation that I was to make a serious post, I could wring my hands and hold extended dialogues (with myself) about everything that I have seen but all that I really want to say is that death is surreal, when a person ceases to be here and that I never could comprehend people anyway.

If I should cease to be here, I'd like to be... I don't know. Remembered fondly? Grieved for? Maybe. I'd like stirring speeches about me, narcissist that I am. Too bad I wouldn't be around for them, ja? Also, don't forget to plant a mango tree on my grave. Damn straight I'm gonna eat mangos and throw the seeds at anyone who walks by.

I'd like to impose my reality on the world, but I guess it's better off inside my own head.

*smiles like a SPESHUL SNOWFLAKE*

2009-10-26T17:26:00.002+08:00

*mumbles incoherently*

*cackles*

Also, have random emo-ish pic!

P.S. Ahhhh make me study! ;_;

2009-10-18T19:23:00.001+08:00

EFF
THIS
SHIT

2009-10-17T13:59:00.000+08:00

*is feeling dumb*
*is feeling unreasonably grouchy*

Meh.

2009-10-01T14:19:00.001+08:00

Classic Boris quote:

"Yeah, treasure you so much that I'm trying to polish under your chin."

2009-09-22T19:55:00.001+08:00

Back pain>sore throat. Srsly.

2009-09-20T21:37:00.000+08:00

My printer ate my headphones. It is a stationary stationery predator :(

2009-09-08T21:18:00.002+08:00

It's all just awkward words between us, as it is between any other people in the world, and you made me smile :)

P.S. Happy birthday Ellicey! <3 Arrogant Worms lies, it's all floaty pink balloons from here :p

2009-09-07T15:56:00.002+08:00

Not every grey day is unpleasant. There is something satisfying about eating a pie that is just hot enough while there is cool air on my face and I am walking down a grey street under a grey sky. I finish it and dispose of the brown paper bag, then let the rough cord of the umbrella chafe the skin of one finger as it slides down until I hook it with the last joint of my knuckle and swing it, as I am wont to do.

I wonder where you are and what you are doing and inexplicably think of damp grass under my feet. I wish I could show you the achingly beautiful lightness of being, but I've only ever felt it alone.

2009-09-01T17:37:00.000+08:00

Kate Monster:
Why can't people get along and love each other, Christmas Eve?

Christmas Eve:
You think getting along same as loving?
Sometimes love right where you hating most, Kate Monster.

Kate Monster:
Huh?

Christmas Eve:
The more you love someone,
The more you want to kill 'em.
The more you love someone,
The more he make you cry

Though you are try
For making peace
With them and loving,
That's why you love so strong
You like to make him die!

The more you love someone,
The more he make you crazy.
The more you love someone,
The more you wishing him dead!

Sometime you look at him
And only see fat and lazy,
And wanting baseball bat
For hitting him on his head!

Love

Kate Monster:
Love

Christmas Eve:
And hate

Kate Monster:
And hate

Christmas Eve:
They like two brothers

Kate Monster:
Brothers

Christmas Eve:
Who go on a date

Kate Monster:
Who....what?

Christmas Eve:
Where one of them goes,
Other one follows
You inviting love
He also bringing sorrows

Kate Monster:
Ah, yes.

Christmas Eve:
The more you love someone,
The more you want to kill 'em.
Loving and killing
Fit like hand in glove!

Kate Monster:
Hand in glove.

Christmas Eve:
So if there someone
You are wanting so
To kill 'em.
You go and find him.
And you get him.
And you no kill him.
'Cause chances good

Both:
He is your love.

2009-08-27T16:02:00.002+08:00

Truth be told, I guess I am a worrier. I'm just scared now, scared and I don't know who to talk to or what to say and I'll probably look back and realise that I was just being stupid and wasting my energy worrying but there's still that slimmest of chances that it'll all be downhill from here.

Ahhhhh this paranoia is driving me insane :(

Also, this made me sad.

2009-08-24T19:28:00.010+08:00

So I wanted to write about something I'd said to Boris, about how I was just tired and I didn't want to talk because I couldn't give enough of myself to conversations with my friends because I am spread thin ala Bilbo Baggins--butter over too much bread. And the funny thing is that I don't think my slice of bread is particularly large.

Anyway, have some pictures from Brisbane instead. I love my Ixus,but it does tend to undersaturate in bright light.

2009-08-19T18:00:00.000+08:00

Get Your Cyborg Name

Hee ^_^

2009-08-14T15:18:00.001+08:00

2009-08-13T16:12:00.000+08:00

I'm scared.

2009-08-10T20:31:00.001+08:00

We met and lucky we didn't miss that! <3

2009-07-29T18:52:00.000+08:00

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have you found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

2009-07-28T19:58:00.001+08:00

Happiness is a green balloon on a sunset, all gold and turquoise. I once saw a cloud, painted on the sky in indigo and violet and refused to believe in it.

2009-07-23T17:34:00.002+08:00

Nowadays, I feel so motivated to study and exercise.

Aliens are taking over my body! Noooo, save meeeeeeeeeee! D:

Edit:

me: dear all this new motivation must be the work of aliens D:

nooooooooo

Boris: oh dear u sound like a schizo patient dear

oh oh guess wat my case was for viva today

me: schizo!

Boris: how u know??

same aliens tell u while they motivate u ah? hahaha

me: you told me!

so you must be the alien!!!!

NOW WE KNOW!!

2009-07-13T16:04:00.001+08:00

Boris won't let me wave cucumbers at passing cars :(

2009-07-10T17:10:00.000+08:00

I am afraid, so afraid that the outside world will cease to exist and all that will remain is this train carriage with tired empty-eyed people. The dull glint of parallel train tracks is just make us all think that we are going somewhere, not trapped in here with fluorescent lights, the rattle and creak and lurch of this carriage, rolling on into the darkness eternally. All I have is the smooth white plastic wall, and I press my hand to it. In an hour, I will run my fingers along the metal rail, greasy from the oil and sweat of countless hands. After that, I will examine the material of the floor, with its infinitesimal tiny silver sparkles. The navy-blue PVC seats, and the scratched glass reflecting me and my hat. I will assiduously avoid the people because they don’t look like they will tell me their stories, and this is a very sad thing. But I wouldn’t tell them mine either, so isn’t that fair? We’re speeding off through the dark and into the dark and off the edge of the world, but I didn’t get to say goodbye. Don’t close your eyes, and I won’t close mine. We’ll stave this off with ordinariness.