the thrilling prospect of getting a boost in my own disposable (used to be miserable income) income and consumption as a result is so enticing that i can pee my pants.

i wanna jump into sunday NOW!

ok. maybe the peeing part should be deleted.

siyuan got 2nd runner up for nj superstar! but, DOH, he could've done SO much better. we all thought so. we screamed our heads off in support for him, we KNEW the song was gonna be so great it'd sweep anyone off their feet. BUT, the mike for the piano just had to NOT work then. who pays the media club peeps?

oh. they dont.

apparently the blasted switch wasn't turned on by the media person in charge of making the sounds of the piano sound remotely audible to the audience. it was a waste! people in front all said how well bekah played! of course she does! and the rest missed out!

and we know how accompaniments lead the fluctuations of the music. so when the climax was supposed to be there, no one (besides the people who heard it) knew it was the CLIMAX.

oh yes. how pissed we all were. if it wasn't the CNY festive mood that made us high, i'd bet we'd have killed anyone in our way. but the girl cant shoulder the blame all by herself. human to err. just wrong time to ERR. but its ok! apart from the fact that siyuan was crestfallen and upset and disappointed when we got to talk to him, and that bekah was fuming mad for letting siyuan down, everything's real peachy.

oh god. how bitchy that sounded.

gotta put a new agenda in my diary.

no 156920684 item to complete: as and when i feel nice enough to feel guilty about what i said, remember to update my blog and say how guilty i am for sprouting angry violent monologues.

--
but as a history student, i suddenly realise that there is a need to be fair.
so i shall conclude after a whole fury- packed entry, the media club people are still good in their jobs. cuz i'm the next best techno idiot after bekah. AND i wouldnt wanna imagine myself as the ava member under the wrath of 15 ++++++ fuming SO2 darlings. ((:

so if i cant do the job, its not my place to diss you.
--

as i venture into yet another new year, i sit up and start to place my resolutions into place. then again, do i actually hold enough of resolution to be resolute about my resolutions? or were they merely there to exist for a couple of determined days, before finally making a quiet and forgottened exit later in the year?

who doesnt want their resolutions to last?

but i suppose the sacred meaning of resolutions have been lost over the years, probably smeared with the CNY festive spirit of uttering happy rubbish on impulse. i mean, you DO tend to utter the impossibles when you're high, right. then you quieten down and think about the resolutions you've declared boldly in front of friends and families, you swear it wasnt you that was talking. it must've been the coke.

maybe resolutions should be returned to a time when they were regarded with sincerity. only given and blessed to people who really seek a change in their lives. maybe resolutions should be made quietly, minus the loud ruckus about "not falling in love anymore this year" crap.

its hard to pen my thoughts when so much is crammed in. you dont know how to say it to make it sound less desperate or self-indulgent. finding the right words to say, but not knowing how to make them sound right.

how do you convey a message without one knowing that you're conveying one?

OH GOD. the battle of my morales. and all thats left of it!

please come back soon. please know what i'm thinking. please know its killing me. please know i've been thinking. please quickly catch on what i'm trying to say. please make CNY come faster. please make the reunion a possibility. please answer my questions. please un- confuse me.

urgh. i'm drunk.