eeew.my tummy feels like a whirlpool - cant seem to stomach oily food anymore. it churls, n churns n basically chills me.
luckily my penchant for everything chocolate still stands - oh, have you realized tt Godiva choc has extended its menu to include..surprise! - a new addition, your commonfare of THE BEVERAGE - (think its somewhat like a frappucino thingie)(starbucks, you've got a real competitor now). Godiva has always been perceived as highbrow (dont-touch-me-im-not-willy-wonkaesque-so-small-kiddies-with-no-moolah-go-buy-your-cadbury-this-is-rated-R21-buy-if-you-have-a-money-tree-at-home-thank-you-very-much). even this chocolate fan will not walk past the godiva store at citylink within three feet, much less step in. i can only gawk and bide my time till a kind soul gives me my money tree on 10 july this year and every year thereafter.
it seems like a marketing attempt to revamp that image and make it more accessible to the masses (read=the poor) by introducing a beverage that exists on the same plane as your common starbucks.

still biding my time till exams end, and ive no school F-O-R-E-V-E-R. can you beat that? can you? can you?

to a new lease of Life, to a reinvention of the Self, to higher heights of Intensity, to a broadening of Perceptions -

i remain,
one heck of a wildflower.

an emotional coward is one who refuses to acknowledge one's natural feelings, inclinations and heightened sensibilities, choosing instead to take the easier road of self-reppression and willful self-ignorance.

freud would definitely hate you - period. plus, he might also add [with much glee heh-heh the evil one laughs] -that it always comes back, full circle and no less.

so instead, see things for what they truly are and embrace it - therein lies, in making a fully-informed decision regarding the state of the Self - make your Choice. choose wisely. ignorance is bliss no more - grow up, and make your decisions in lieu of the impending consequences should you decide to follow that certain trajectory.

this wasnt the whole point of my tirade.

cowards, cowards, they abound by the many,
far and wide - they exist.

the type - emotional cowards
the affliction - making a farce out of situations by pretending that something does not exist, when it does.
the modus operandi - keeping the seemingly fragile peace through the shelving and dismissal of the emotions of another and refusing to address undercurrents of tension

***
watched Rebel Without a Cause (1955 or so i think)

the characterisation of the primary protagonist of the Rebel (james dean) - my type of guy, yum yum
edgy, with the world against him, fighting the good fight against all odds - note that the romantic ideal has been dismantled and i never quite believed in that anyway , the whole shitbang bout the heroic macho male nyeh-nyeh falling dames into muscled-man's lap- no! - strong is when you possess integrity, heroic is when you make the effort, despite all odds stacked against you, in spite of your human fallibility, to do what is right according to the crevices of your heart and soul.

and i remain,
a wildflower.

***

my heart ached when i passed by siglap today - that whole stretch.
from 400++ upper east coast road all the way to cheesecake cafe.

watched a film adaptation of Neil Simon's The Goodbye Girl (1977).

the accompaniment (David Gates) to the soundtrack might look cheesy on this interface, as love songs normally go, but - dismiss them not. go hear the song and let it tug at your heartstrings.

'Cause baby goodbye
doesn't mean forever,
let me tell you goodbye, doesn't mean
We'll never be together again,
If you wake up and i'm not there,
I won't be long away 'cause the things you do
my goodbye girl
will bring me back to you.

***

im not sure why, i feel like im 22 going on 16. my notions regarding certain issues still bear that tinge of undulterated hope. i still harbour hope. i have not succumbed to cynicism. have a little respect for yourself, and in consequence, leave a semblance of it for me - mock me for my naivete? how cruel of you to c-r-u-s-h them. it hurts more than ill ever reveal, ever. im sorry i cannot buy into your notions of practicality, tt a state of togetherness depends on whoever who happens to be your plaster girl to present happiness to you and for you to leave in tempestuous times, only to discount that integral act of forgiving each other? - strip away every and nothing is left of the love-wearied. only a hard [heart] core, bandied around like a veteran soldier's wound - your very own badge of honour? i think not. move on and learn to see love as it is. think out of the box. stop circumscribing self-imposed limits upon yourself -

such joy-killing - your heart is old, weathered -
and

cold.

***

biding my time till end of exams.

memories. fragments and slivers of them.

meadows i still dream of them why? such purity in all its intent, perhaps thats why. with no agenda on both parts, only a sweet friendship as the basis of that foundation. and maybe i still dream of the meadows because they represent hope, such youthful vigour in delineating whats wrong and right, with God in the middle as our stronghold, peppered with conversations tt do not involve mind games, seeing the world with new eyes all the time, that heart-to-heart connection, knowing that if floors do gobble you up in your emptiness in the midst of a crowd, i would be your friend to comfort you, to give a part of myself without counting or being afraid.

but afraid i was-
this girls grown, battered from/by all fronts,
but at least she's learnt not to

cut-and-run.

she'll stay, for some.