.:: FALL ;

C'est la vie:
Happy HALLOWEEN!!!

RAHH..

Hiatus again...

lu
5:44 PM

C'est la vie:
finally got over the super down period after exams.

That doesn't mean I'm not in a lousy mood though. Not so depressed, but perhaps thanks to victor hugo, who had proved my theory in the previous entry (15 sept) right , i'm still having this tinge of sadness in me.

Shall quote the short chapter to prove why.
All my thoughts could be found there.
By the way, this is a coincidence. I happened to be thinking of this that day when I received some of my results and these few days I happened to be reading Hugo's novel. (the most famous one that is, you can guess it)

"A man overboard!

The ship does not stop. The wind blows. That sombre ship has a path which it is forced to pursue. It passes on.

The man disappears, then reappears; he plunges, he rises again to the surface; he calls, he stretches out his arms; he is not heard. The vessel, trembling under the hurricane, is wholly absorbed in its own workings; the passengers and sailors do not even see the drowning man; his miserable head is but a speck amid the immensity of the waves. He gives vent to desperate cries from out of the depths. What a spectre is that retreating sail! He gazes and gazes at it frantically. It retreats, it grows dim, it diminishes in size. He was there but just now, he was one of the crew, he went and came along the deck with the rest, he had his part of breath and of sunlight, he was a living man. Now, what has taken place? He has slipped, he has fallen; all is at an end.

He is in the tremendous sea. Under foot he has nothing but what flees and crumbles. The billows, torn and lashed by the wind, encompass him hideously; the tossings of the abyss bear him away; all the tongues of water dash over his head; a populace of waves spits upon him; confused openings half devour him; every time that he sinks, he catches glimpses of precipices filled with night; frightful and unknown vegetations seize him, knot about his feet, draw him to them; he is conscious that he is becoming an abyss, that he forms part of the foam; the waves toss him from one to another; he drinks in the bitterness; the cowardly ocean attacks him furiously, to drown him; the enormity plays with his agony. It seems as though all that water were hate.

Nevertheless, he struggles.

He tries to defend himself; he tries to sustain himself; he makes an effort; he swims. He, his petty strength all exhausted instantly, combats the inexhaustible.

Where, then, is the ship? Yonder. Barely visible in the pale shadows of the horizon.

The wind blows in gusts; all the foam overwhelms him. He raises his eyes and beholds only the lividness of the clouds. He witnesses, amid his death-pangs, the immense madness of the sea. He is tortured by this madness; he hears noises strange to man, which seem to come from beyond the limits of the earth, and from one knows not what frightful region beyond.

There are birds in the clouds, just as there are angels above human distresses; but what can they do for him? They sing and fly and float, and he, he rattles in the death agony.

He feels himself buried in those two infinities, the ocean and the sky, at one and the same time: the one is a tomb; the other is a shroud.

Night descends; he has been swimming for hours; his strength is exhausted; that ship, that distant thing in which there were men, has vanished; he is alone in the formidable twilight gulf; he sinks, he stiffens himself, he twists himself; he feels under him the monstrous billows of the invisible; he shouts.

There are no more men. Where is God?

For the last time he shouts. Help! Help!

Nothing on the horizon; nothing in heaven.

He implores the expanse, the waves, the seaweed, the reef; they are deaf. He beseeches the tempest; the imperturbable tempest obeys only the infinite.

Around him darkness, fog, solitude, the stormy and nonsentient tumult, the undefined curling of those wild waters. In him horror and fatigue. Beneath him the depths. Not a point of support. He thinks of the gloomy adventures of the corpse in the limitless shadow. The bottomless cold paralyzes him. His hands contract convulsively; they close, and grasp nothingness. Winds, clouds, whirlwinds, gusts, useless stars! What is to be done? The desperate man gives up; he is weary, he chooses the alternative of death; he resists not; he lets himself go; he abandons his grip; and then he tosses forevermore in the lugubrious dreary depths of engulfment.

Oh, implacable march of human societies! Oh, losses of men and of souls on the way! Ocean into which falls all that the law lets slip! Disastrous absence of help! Oh, moral death!

The sea is the inexorable social darkness into which the penal laws fling their condemned. The sea is the immensity of wretchedness.

The soul, lost in those depths, may become a corpse. Who shall resuscitate it?"

Taken from 'http://www.online-literature.com/victor_hugo/les_miserables/22/' edited by yours truly according to the edition I'm reading. (Thought I had better cite it. SPIRE. LOL)
Sorta different from the version I read, but they meant the same.

lu
4:39 PM

C'est la vie:

I was about to type something like

'All influences are immoral as they forcefully impart somebody else's soul, thoughts passion into you.'

for my msn nick. This was inspired by Oscar Wilde. Found it quite meaningful.

Then, while I was typing, I noticed the contradiction.

So, if that's immoral what's NOT immoral?

Anyway, still nothing interesting happened.

I seem to hate myself more each day.
I hate myself for who I am.
My very existence disgust myself.
I know, this part doesn't fit my ego at all.
My ego is like the enzyme, that is the substrate.
They just don't match at all.

Some confused thought.
I need time,
think over things.
I need time, to organise my thoughts.
Aimless and confused.
The best time for a break.
Seriously, I need to go somewhere that's NOT singapore.
Singapore just drives me crazy.
This further supports my reasoning for why i should be in CJC and NOT NJC.

NJC is not for slackers. /It is for muggers.
I am a slacker
>Therefore NJ is not a place for me.

I am in a really lousy mood these few days thanks to something which I don't wish to elaborate on. So if I did offend anybody, I'm sorry. Truthfully and sincerely.

I know you think I'm a pseudo, but I'm not. You are.
This is me. Like it or leave it.

lu
9:13 PM

C'est la vie:
Since somebody complained that my blog very stagnant (tu quoquo fallacy but nvm)

There's nothing interesting to blog about leh.

I got owned in ahem ahem.

But never.

Tired.

Speechless,
not exactly depressed,
but no idea how to express it.

I don't even know what I'm feeling now.

Never, this is just some senseless rantlings.

BYE!

lu
9:10 PM

C'est la vie:
koped this from my laogong
'life's a full-time job with no holidays. and you can't quit it either. not unless you die.'

But I'm tired..
Really.
Hopping to be like sleeping beauty, sleeping for her whole life. Waking up to find herself in reality.

That scene in gone with the wind is still so vivid in my mind. I can get it off. Imagine this scenc:

Everything is so misty. We spent our whole life chasing for/pursuing something. However, once gained possession, we despised it, looking at it might even bring memories of the insolent past. What we would then appreciate and cherish would be the almost worthless past which we used to enjoy. Yet, to our horror and disgust what we found out as our true love/passion would be drifting further and further away from us. Eventually, what's left would be memories and the misty fog with the sillhoutte of the past.

This is the scenario. It's not as depressing and romantic as it's supposed to be, I know, thanks to my lousy lit skills. But IF I can recreate the scene as well as Mitchelle...... i can jolly well be as famous as her? Ok I know it's a fallacy, but nvm.

lu
8:27 PM

C'est la vie:
No more tears, no more misery this time.
Tears had long dried up leaving behind a desert.
(If any, it's due to the haze)

I had pushed on till now.
I had pursued on.
Through the numerous pseudo success,
and the numerous failures
which I had failed to accept.
Taking failures as success.
Finally, the time has come.
When I'm really too tired to continue.
I'm sick of it.
I need a quiet place to recuperate.
I need to break free.
Break free of this illusion and this everchanging world.
NONESENSE! Changes are the only things which do and will not change in this world.

I had moved on.
But if ever I'm tired,
please allow me some time to take a breather.
Please, do not abandon me!

lu
6:16 PM

C'est la vie:
Years past like minutes. Time flies indeed. This nostalgic feeling before every year ends. Soon enough IP1 life is gonna be over! Yayness! Now I forgot what I was trying to say. Yes, the major event of the day is over. OPEN DAY AND EOYS!

Talk about open day, today's njc, vjc's open day, plus DHS 50 ANNIVERSARY GALA CONCERT!!!!

My junior's coming over njc! But she's busy with the Gala today so she couldn't make it today. Sigh, no idea how should I put it across to her, but at least, I told her that.

I miss DHS somehow, without dhs, I'll never be who I am today. Influenced me quite abit.

Anyway, enough of that crap, watched gone with the wind today.

That's the irony in life. Thought even more of DHS after that. You spend your whole life pursuing your so-called happiness, even when you are enjoying youself. Yet only when you achieved what you had wanted, you realised how fortunate you were IN THE PAST. What you used to enjoy in the past and appreciate in the present will be gone from you, and usually forever. Like a fog, came and gone, you never manage to catch that shadow in the mist.

Tag replies some other days.
Thanking all for giving me the moral support and courage to press on during the difficult times!!!

lu
9:36 PM