To jump or not to jump.

* * *

Why do we need to lose certain things, only to realise its importance to us? When it has always been there, we take it for granted, assuming it’d always be there, assuming it’s presence is 理所当然. And then when we lose it, we mourn and regret.

My uncle has battled with cancer for two years and he passed away one week ago. I’ve seen my cousins’ fb statuses, saying how much they miss him, regretting not having a recent picture with him, wanting to give him a hug… But these things can only stay as regrets now. :/

To be honest, when I went back home last summer, I’ve hugged my parents more compared to the last few years, probably because leaving home has made me realise how much it means to be at home. And I remember this one particular time, when my dad was upset about something, I’ve had to gather up my courage for about 10 minutes to walk up to him and gave him a hug. I think it’s quite unfortunate that we don’t express our love to our family openly. I mean, how many times do we say I love you to our parents/siblings? How many times do we give them hugs? We just assume they know because they are our family.

* * *

Probably it’s the exam stress, my lacrimal glands’ activity has increased recently.

I always say to myself: We gain some, and we lose some.

But yeah,

Certain things have to be worked for, things are not going to miraculously change when you do nothing about it.




My mind is full of thoughts. Right now.

And nothing seems to be right. Well okay maybe some things are right but you get what I mean.

You know that feeling?

It’s like chaos erupted inside you, and suddenly the song is too noisy and the chair isn’t comfortable enough and it’s too hot and no matter what you adjust, something is still in the wrong place.

It’s like it’s 8 in the morning and it’s raining cats and dogs and you’re stuck in a jam and there’s an accident 200metres ahead and all you want is something warm to drink.

And I just want to go home. Back to my safezone.


I’ve never felt this detached from home before. From everything back at home. I hate this. I hate that I am here and there’s nothing I can freaking do. I hate that I can’t even pay my last respect.

I’m so sorry I can’t be there.

When you say goodbye to someone, you really do not know if that’s the last time you’ll ever see them.


I ran down the stairs as fast as I could, because there is an urgency in my mind and I was ahead of my colleagues.

However, I was halted abruptly halfway down. He had a gun pointed at the hostage he was holding, but he pointed it at me when I appeared in his sight.

I did not even have the time to see his face, when I heard two loud gunshots. Everything in front of me faded, and I collapsed onto the floor. There wasn’t any sharp distinct pain, and I know I was still conscious so I stayed as still as possible, to trick him into thinking I was dead.

When my colleagues arrive, I could hear them threaten him. But still he came towards me, his courage probably magnified by the gun in his hand.

I held my breath, out of fear and self-preservation. Yet I still feel the cold steel barrel against my nose, then he pulled the trigger. Immediately after that, he shot me for the last time on my forehead.

The funny thing is, there wasn’t any immediate pain, there was just this immense numbness. I was wondering why am I still alive, two shots to the head and I should technically be dead right now.

There wasn’t any flashes of my entire life, like the movies had always described. All I could think about was why am I still alive, by that time I couldn’t hear whatever was happening around me.

That’s when it came. I could feel a thick sticky liquid trickling out of my nose, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t move my hands to wipe it off. To be honest I wasn’t even sure if I still had a nose, since he shot me at my nose. But all i could feel is all these liquid flowing out of it. And then more of it came from my guts. It spilled out of my mouth and I couldn’t breathe because there was so much blood. Blood in my nose, in my mouth, blood coming up in my oesophagus. Even my gagging reflex was gone.

And then I woke up, horrified.

RIP :(

I have had it since Form 1. When I was 13 years old.

Today, I realised it has reached its end.

No matter how many times I press the ‘on’ button, the screen remained blank.

It accompanied me throughout my PMR, SPM, A Levels and university first year exams (Thank you for surviving til I am finished with chem!).

Sigh. Good times ol’calculator, good times. *pats calculator




RIP my beloved calculator.

Thanks for the 7.5 years worth of calculations. :)

Hmm. Question of the day: To change the battery or to get a new calculator?

Me being the cheapskate will most probably choose the former. HAHAHHA.

the rainbow after the rain.

I have just made a huge decision that would affect the next 4 to 5 years of my life. And strangely, making that decision seemed normal. Ling San asked me today, aren’t I scared about going overseas alone? But quite frankly, the fear and dread of not wanting to go has always materialised at the last few moments. Take NS for example, when it was first announced and carried out, I wanted to go and even hoped that when my time comes, I would be chosen. When I was chosen, I didn’t want to go. Haha. I think the cycle would most probably repeat itself again soon.

So yes. There’s an 80% chance of me going to UK this coming September. They have already made an offer, and I am going to apply for a vise as soon as I recieved the visa letter.

It was quite a big deal for me. Because at first it was very very hard for me to make that decision. But Ling San’s words gave me a bit of direction yesterday. She said whatever it is, do what you want. If it is not meant to be, it is not. If this hardship proves to be too hard, then it is not meant to be.

I also had a question for myself, would I regret not choosing for 4years straight when I’m doing a 2+2?

And I think the answer is yes. If I were to be truthful to myself. Yes, I might regret.

So there. It is a very suddent change in direction because all these while I thought it’s either 4years in Australia or 2+2 in Nottingham. Apparently, my results are not good enough to get into the Australian universities I have applied to due to the limited quota they’ve made for international students. Do you know that the University of Tasmania only offers 15 places to international students for Bachelor in Pharmacy? Neither did I, until last Friday. While my then first choice, University of Queensland only offers 60 places but because of its high ranking, the competition is very very stiff. When my parents asked the agent what exactly are my chances of getting offers from these universities, they said it’s very slim.

Very slim! I got ABB but it’s very slim! Tasmania and Queensland’s entry requirements are only BBB you know!

So yea. Portsmouth is a town near the sea. Wheee. :D

* * *

A teacher from my secondary school passed away from H1N1 this morning. Although she has never teach me before, but this is the first case I’ve heard that hits so close to home. So very close.

Rest in peace. Miss Chai.

we change our opinion on things when it happens to us.

The thought of all this ending in exactly one month’s time is crazy. No more frustrations over maths and chem. No more blank minds when I see bio questions. But until then, the thought of it all crashing down in one week’s time is even crazier. One week. I have never felt so unprepared. I still can’t remember whther krebs cycle or Calvin cycle occurs in photosynthesis or resperation. I still can’t solve integration of sec or cosec or even tan. I still don’t know the differences between amine and amide. There are simply so many things and I am already feeling so tired. I told myself over and over again, this is the last exam of A levels, the last. I can’t give up now, because I’m already 50% there. But this 2nd 50%, this remaining 50%, seems so far far away.

I feel so worn out.

Today, I saw a cat corpse on my way to college. And when I finally decided to park my car at a place out of the normal place I usually park, I realised that it gave me a direct view on the cat corpse. So I sat there, reluctant to head to college half an hour before class. I sat there, listening to the radio, and looking at the cat. Surprisingly, all the cars avoided running over the corpse.

And yea, I could see the blood glistening on the tar road. Blood from the injured head.

It’s funny, isn’t it? When the cat was alive, a car ran over it. When the cat was left bleeding to death in the middle of a busy traffic, all the cars avoided it. Such irony.

It reminded me of April.