Wednesday, May 31, 2006

i think im done with work, i think.

i am nadi; :] at 1:07 AM

0comments

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

rabbit by my side, eyes closing. tummy grumbling.

life couldn't be better ;)

gotta get up in 8 1/2 hours. dang.

i am nadi; :] at 1:37 AM

0comments



faces.
;] :] :[ ;[

i am nadi; :] at 12:56 AM

4comments

Monday, May 29, 2006

just [coloursplash] randoms,







good night.

i am nadi; :] at 2:28 AM

0comments

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

im dehydrated to the bone. despite the roads being wet from the rain, the scorching sun (when there is sun) leaves no sympathy for my already cracked lips.

i dont like farah and i dont care if you see this.

i am nadi; :] at 1:17 AM

3comments

Saturday, May 20, 2006

:(

i am nadi; :] at 1:21 AM

0comments

Friday, May 19, 2006

barbie is a slut.

youre the slut, you man whore.

i am nadi; :] at 11:45 AM

2comments

Thursday, May 18, 2006

rainbows aren't visions, but only illusions.

okay, so i have to think about a vision, and stop gaping at rainbows.

truthfully, i have no goal in life. no proper goal, that is (i shan't take me getting married by thirty into account, which technically isn't exactly a goal per se). ultimately, i want to be able to ready myself for whats coming up ahead of me (in which i havent got the slightest clue to what its gonna be, as i only plan for tomorrow. okay, latest next week). wouldn't it be bliss if you could pursue your passion, and succeed in life with it. a pity this is Singapore. there's only so far you can go. i cant possibly live on drawing for myself and waiting on people (i prefer drawing for myself compared to the latter by the way).

so school's staring in a fortnight (or so), and thanks to nad's overly stressfull degree syllabus, im half anticipating whats coming up for me for the next year (okay, this is as far as it goes for setting a goal). okay, so maybe the local system wouldnt be as complex as how the australian system sounds (correct me if im wrong), but im rusting from the lack of design related work, and i really am not to sure if i can jump right back in and kick it off with a boom boom chugga chugga boom.

one step at a time nadi, you must.


babe's not that useless after all ;)

i am nadi; :] at 12:33 AM

4comments

Wednesday, May 17, 2006



LIVE NATION presents,

COLDPLAY - Twisted Logic - 2006

Monday, 10th July 2006

8.00 pm, Singapore Indoor Stadium

awwwrrhh yeah!

i am nadi; :] at 12:05 AM

0comments

Tuesday, May 16, 2006



La Vida es Bella, Life is Beautiful.

in more ways than one, no matter how unsettling life can be, at the end of it all, life marks its worth. and that, really is the beauty of life.

i guess everyone has to take a chill pill to ease the pain.

i am nadi; :] at 11:46 PM

0comments



hooray to sunday picnics :)

we love, we love.

i am nadi; :] at 2:54 AM

1comments

Thursday, May 11, 2006

ive been hitting backspace and clear a few times from now, and even as im typing this, part of my brain is actually luring my painted fingers to those very same keys, and im wondering why the hell im still typing till this point. and with the fact that ive actually gone this far to express my boredom, which really isnt very meaningful by the way, i think that, oh heck. just for the heck of it.

so here's the deal with me, i think. im annoyed because my brother's sleeping on my bed and i cant get him up. jason dragged me along for supper, despite me saying 'eh you not tired ah. i wanna die already lei', and rivy saying 'we go to the lau zi fang (or whatever it is lah) near our house there lah. then can send nadi home first', which clearly couldve saved me (and him) this feeling of hatred which has already been accumulating for three goddamned years. i left my book at work, which couldve entertained me for the rest of the night, and i cant get my brother out of my bed, and that i had an almost shitass bad day at work, which i cant seem to reason out why somehow, but thats cool, cos at this hour, i can go without reasons for many-a-things, and i still cant get him outof my friggin bed.

whatever to that okay.
and whatever to you and i hope your balls stop dangling one day.

now im aching for a nicotine stick. which i cant seem to find. i cldve sworn i had one last stick in the pack, and now its playing mind games with me. and it really isnt that funny when youre craving this bad. do you feel my pain, oh pain? im sure my lungs are rejoicing. screw you dumbass.

screw funckin you.

its not right when you bring tears to my eyes. na-ah, its not right.

i am nadi; :] at 1:18 AM

0comments

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

come back, love.

i am nadi; :] at 12:56 PM

0comments



One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street in Tokyo's fashionable Harujuku neighborhood, I walked past the 100% perfect girl.

Tell you the truth, she's not that good-looking. She doesn't stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn't young, either - must be near thirty, not even close to a "girl," properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away:

She's the 100% perfect girl for me.

The moment I see her, there's a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.Maybe you have your own particular favorite type of girl - one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you're drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I'll catch myself staring at the girl at the next table to mine because I like the shape of her nose.But no one can insist that his 100% perfect girl correspond to some preconceived type. Much as I like noses, I can't recall the shape of hers - or even if she had one. All I can remember for sure is that she was no great beauty.

It's weird."Yesterday on the street I passed the 100% girl," I tell someone."Yeah?" he says. "Good-looking?"

"Not really."

"Your favorite type, then?"

"I don't know. I can't seem to remember anything about her - the shape of her eyes or the size of her breasts."

"Strange."

"Yeah. Strange."

"So anyhow," he says, already bored, "what did you do? Talk to her? Follow her?"

"Nah. Just passed her on the street."

She's walking east to west, and I west to east. It's a really nice April morning.Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and - what I'd really like to do - explain to her the complexities of fate that have led to our passing each other on a side street in Harajuku on a beautiful April morning in 1981.

This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock build when peace filled the world.After talking, we'd have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woody Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for cocktails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed.Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart.

Now the distance between us has narrowed to fifteen yards.How can I approach her? What should I say?

"Good morning, miss. Do you think you could spare half an hour for a little conversation?"

Ridiculous. I'd sound like an insurance salesman.

"Pardon me, but would you happen to know if there is an all-night cleaners in the neighborhood?"

No, this is just as ridiculous. I'm not carrying any laundry, for one thing. Who's going to buy a line like that?

Maybe the simple truth would do.

"Good morning. You are the 100% perfect girl for me."

No, she wouldn't believe it. Or even if she did, she might not want to talk to me. Sorry, she could say, I might be the 100% perfect girl for you, but you're not the 100% boy for me. It could happen. And if I found myself in that situation, I'd probably go to pieces. I'd never recover from the shock. I'm thirty-two, and that's what growing older is all about.

We pass in front of a flower shop. A small, warm air mass touches my skin. The asphalt is damp, and I catch the scent of roses. I can't bring myself to speak to her. She wears a white sweater, and in her right hand she holds a crisp white envelope lacking only a stamp. So: She's written somebody a letter, maybe spent the whole night writing, to judge from the sleepy look in her eyes. The envelope could contain every secret she's ever had.I take a few more strides and turn: She's lost in the crowd.Now, of course, I know exactly what I should have said to her. It would have been a long speech, though, far too long for me to have delivered it properly. The ideas I come up with are never very practical.

Oh, well. It would have started "Once upon a time" and ended "A sad story, don't you think?"

Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was eighteen and the girl sixteen. He was not unusually handsome, and she was not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened.One day the two came upon each other on the corner of a street."This is amazing," he said. "I've been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you're the 100% perfect girl for me."

"And you," she said to him, "are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I'd pictured you in every detail. It's like a dream."They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle, a cosmic miracle.As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one's dreams to come true so easily?And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, "Let's test ourselves - just once. If we really are each other's 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we'll marry then and there. What do you think?"

"Yes," she said, "that is exactly what we should do."

And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west.The test they had agreed upon, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should never have undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other's 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully.

One winter, both the boy and the girl came down with the season's terrible inluenza, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. When they awoke, their heads were as empty as the young D. H. Lawrence's piggy bank.

They were two bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society. Heaven be praised, they became truly upstanding citizens who knew how to transfer from one subway line to another, who were fully capable of sending a special-delivery letter at the post office.

Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 75% or even 85% love.

Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was thirty-two, the girl thirty.

One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:

She is the 100% perfect girl for me.

He is the 100% perfect boy for me.

But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier.

Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd.

Forever.

A sad story, don't you think?

Yes, that's it, that is what I should have said to her.

i am nadi; :] at 12:40 AM

0comments

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

"one of god's better people?"

i thought we were made all the same.

sigh.

why dont you come to me?

i am nadi; :] at 12:14 AM

0comments

Monday, May 08, 2006

Main Entry: hel·lo
Pronunciation: h&-'lO, he-
Function: noun

Inflected Form(s): plural hellos
Etymology: alteration of hollo
: an expression or gesture of greeting -- used interjectionally in greeting, in answering the telephone, or to express surprise.


it was a surprise. what came after was a bigger surprise.


Main Entry: 1sur·prise
Variant(s): also sur·prize /s&(r)-'prIz/
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Middle French, from feminine of surpris, past participle of surprendre to take over, surprise, from sur- + prendre to take -- more at PRIZE
1 a : an attack made without warning
b : a taking unawares
2 : something that surprises
3 : the state of being surprised : ASTONISHMENT


who ever said hellos and surprises were anything good.

cos you had me at hello.
and whatever came after,
was a surprise,
not worthy of the word itself.

so hello to yourself mister.

i am nadi; :] at 2:19 AM

0comments



where work is.
where i have to be in less than 9 hours.

im tired of working lah.
yes, i wait on pple.

im pretty darn good at this waiting thing (and i mean this in every way).

i am nadi; :] at 2:04 AM

0comments



this one's way overdued. excuse the bad lighting, thankyou.

i am nadi; :] at 1:53 AM

0comments




process.

im in mode : create.

and i hope it stays for quite a while.

i am nadi; :] at 1:44 AM

0comments

Thursday, May 04, 2006

i want my holga snow.

i am nadi; :] at 3:29 AM

2comments




im beginning to think (or hope, rather) that maybe its just my screen that's giving me this problem. so im just gonna post whatever anyway.

ive always enjoyed girls and coffee. both seperately and together :) while stocks last.

cos its 2am and a week, and im still thinking of you.

but we never stood a chance.

that, always bounces back to me.

i need more than just gal-pal. so give me novocaine (and my blue rabbit).
its hard when the few that keep lingering (in my mind that is) in ignorance, overpower the many that you forget.

the refrigerator died on us. so now, when i open the fridge just to check the status of this hunger, i see nothing. which without question, makes me a much hungrier gal-number-two.

emo thoughts and hunger dont match :(

we dont either.

i am nadi; :] at 2:06 AM

1comments

gal-pal and have concluded that being a gal, is the gallest thing to be in this gal-ful world, and that all the un-gal papples, who are not gal enough to be gal like us, should just stay normal, and un-gal.

so tak kool-with-a-kay oh-kay.

come meet my gal, pal.


my scrumptious son-of-a-lunch. yummeh.


and so,





gal-pal and i painted the red mailbox turquoise. these seem to be the only pictures that comes out right. my apologies for the lack of content.

i am nadi; :] at 1:54 AM

0comments

blogger sucks.

and thats why you dont see pictures.

:(

i am nadi; :] at 1:17 AM

0comments


extras