"I'm not a born actress, as such, I care about expressing feelings." -Audrey Hepburn

Many times I care too much about feelings and feelings make up my whole world for me. It makes me wonder whether the world I'm living in is the real one. Cause I feel surreal in my own delusion more than anywhere else.

I want to play a grand piano on some gorgeous stage with a million audience.
I want to learn as many instruments as possible; saxophone will be next.
I want to dive in a swimming pool-sized of chocolate fondue.
I want a field flooded with orange daisies.
I want to teleport to Berklee!
I want a library of books with classics, and very very very extremely good books & novels.
I want to own a home movie theatre with my very own ice cream fridge.
I want to direct my own gore movie and write my own gore novel. (this is thrilling.)
I want to get married to some rich guy and be a tai tai. HAH.

@ lolalimlumlabe_92@hotmail.com

Adina Amanda Amethyst Chenchen Esthergoh Estherlee Fionalim Gladys Jono Kennethleow Rachel Yijun Yuhong

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PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE % Pictures: Photobucket
% Brushes/Fonts: Henri Eshita
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% Basecode: Weannz

I squat at the verandah. I knew who exactly I am waiting for. But I wasn't sure whether he is coming.

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I need to get out of here. I feel like I am suffocating. I powdered my face, Aligned my lids with thick dark pencil and applied my favourite lipstick. I don't usually carry this color- Dark red. But it makes me feel pretty. I slipped into my red dress tinged with lavender smell, armed myself with two packets of cigarettes and left home deliberately leaving the lights on.

I walked down the street of bars and let a flock of men in their fifties to buy me multiple drinks. After a company is gone, I walked down to the next bar. I patronised bar by bar, holding a bottle of whiskey as I take multiple swigs from it. I don't know where I was heading, I just hope that someone will take me in tonight.

The clicking of my heels are erractic now. I can barely see faces clearly. But I could hear laughters and murmurs darting past. It is as if they were all smiling at me. I stopped every passing person, "Love me tonight will you?" I stumbled upon my words, giggling and managed a wink. Shrugs and shuns. The morning is nearing. I feel my eyes smudged with salty tears. Black tears rolled down my cheeks. I must have looked like a crazy bitch to them.


Bur all I need is someone to love me. I lay by the alley of a bar, shivering. "Why, why?" "Why can't someone just fucking love me?"
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Happily Ever After...

It cracks every time it sees you and think about all the possibilities of why you may depart the owner of the heart one day. Being a second lover is never easy.

I always thought love speaks of everything beautiful and pure. It speaks of ordinary things that are extraordinary and transforms outrageous dreams into reality. Yet, your love speaks of everything opposite. It satiates all sorts of uncertainties and questions. And because of that, I can never imagine what's ahead. I just focus on loving you everyday.

I feel like I'm merely another fling or an occasional hook up. It's as if I'm made up in your imagination. And everything I did for you is out of a burning desire where I dance between those lines - to feel real; to reimburse this feeling of surreality. You make me feel like I live in a painting, a photograph, a movie or even a book. I am anything but real. I don't even know if this feeling is wrong or magical.

I fear, because I've risked my soul to love despite knowing I may just plunge to death the moment you let go where I don't belong anywhere in your life or imagination anymore.

And in my imagination, you hold my hand and lead me to your heart. I no longer need to be a second lover; I no longer need to remain within your imagination; I no longer am a fiction.

This shall be my happily ever after. And tell me, do I deserve this happy ending that only you can fulfill?

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Hi fellow followers, I shall be blogging lesser and maybe not anymore at the moment due to a very critical examination which will determine many things in future. So it's either I make it or break it. Please keep me in prayers. And I will be back after 26th Nov which marks my freedom.

Good luck to everyone who are taking A's.

To fatty: I wonder why I still specify that this message is for you especially when my entire blog is meant for you. Maybe not entirely. But at least from the time I met you till now. Imy and Ily. Though I say that what matters most is what your heart feels for me, but somehow, the only way to translate those feelings to my heart is by actions. Idk how to make you change your mind. Idk what I can do. And it breaks my heart because everything lies within your will and I play no part in changing your mind or even the deeper essence, your heart. I dw to hear anymore sorrys or I feel terrible. But I want you to do one thing about your apologies - to love wholeheartedly. Maybe it's impossible for now. But I'm willing to wait. And waiting means believing that you will get there one day. Ily.

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That Heart Speaks. Part II.

Lying with my chest down, listening to my own heartbeat. And every time your face flash in my mind, my heart feels a tug. I reminisce upon your last word you said and your beautiful sweet smile. But as I open my eyes, you vanish into vacuum. My heart swells up as it twinges and feels bitterly sore. It feels like air has decided not to enter my lungs and tissue.

Can you tell me how did you make my heart so incredibly obedient to you?
And maybe, it's just a sign of how much you can make my poor heart misses you.

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This peekture is sooo adorable!

Hi fellow readers, it's been a long time I actually have a proper update. But there's nothing much to say becos everything else is the same. Maybe if you are wondering about my school life, I didn't fare too well for prelims, so I shall skip going into details. I'm feeling that urgency now. And I hope this fear of failing or rather not getting the grades good enough to study what I want will carry me through A's. So, good luck to me.

I've been doing quite abit of creative writing recently. Some are real personal experience and some are not. I've been doing writings for an organisation. Somehow, I hope it gets recognised one way or another. But then again, I hope I will still retain essence of my personal style of writing while providing some materials they need.

In the meantime, I'm blog shopping. And my friend will said, this is my "blonde" identity emerging. Everyone has to admit that shopping is highly therapeutic. Ok, at least it is the case for me. I'm suppose to take 30 mins break before heading back to revision. But I've been here for more than an hour. So I guess I have to bid farewell now.

I don't recognise myself in this sea of faces.
And maybe I'm living off as a shadow.
But when did this awakening dawn upon me- that I'm a shadow?
If so, who am I living off before this realisation?
This feels oddly surreal. It feels like a restoration.
Maybe what we call life is a mere hallucination
and the shadow is in fact us?
What if our entire life is just a figment of our imagination?
And our problems and pain are purely what we created
out of our mind so as to feel acutely alive?

We kid ourselves into believing how beautiful or agonizing life can be.
But we fail to realise we can never ever separate beauty and tragedy.
Because in every existence of beauty hides flaws beneath.
And since we can't make do with flaws,
we should make do with nothing.
Maybe within our shadow where
there are no beauty nor tragedy,
we can actually find our own form of happiness.

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That Heart Speaks. Part I.

I need to see you, because my heart said so. But I don't want to meet you.
Cause everytime we meet, my heart will absorb all the love you can possibly give.
And everytime you leave, my heart will sob and gasp for you like air.

You've no idea what you can do to my heart.

Even mere thinking of you, my heart feels as if there's a hole suction within that creates this terribly deep well of emptiness. I can't stand being with you because my heart can't take all the turmoil that churns and grinds deep inside when you say goodbye.

It wasn't seeing you that is so heart wrenching. But your departure that makes loving you so helplessly tiring. It's a gradual and painful torture that slowly penerates right into the core of my heart, keeping me brutally alive.

It's worse than death. Loving you is worse than death.

So don't start, because goodbye is tough. ****************

I'm awfully pathetic. Because everyday I'm merely living off tiny dosages of your love that you give off like shillings from your pocket at the end of the day. And maybe if I'm lucky enough, I can get a little more when you decided to take a breezy walk home instead of throwing em into the bus chute. But you never realise how those shillings of yours are like food to me.

I'm a criminal. I fall for the wrong guy at the wrong time. I do everything that goes against the rationality and welfare of mine. I should be charged guilty for murdering my own conscience. And the only thing that I've not betrayed is my feelings for you. That's the only right thing for me.

I thought that if everything else is built based on my love for you, it will overcome anything and conquer all, even my conscience. And it doesn't matter if your love can never match up to mine. It doesn't matter even if only a small part of your heart belongs to me.

But yet, I still secretly bear the most burning and unspoken desire in my heart- that your heart will solely belong to me. And I'm your choice.

If only you are in my heart, you will savour every ounce of love and tender I have for you. Because as long as you feel the depths of it, you will feel all of my madness within.

Then again, what if even that wasn't enough for you to make me your choice? What should I do by then?

I love you I love you I love you. How do you need me to bring that across? ****************