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pissed |
spyware. the ultimate sucker. i shall not go into the gory details.
here's my lit project. enjoy, everyone. tis a short story continuation that my group chose to do, and this is my version, which will proudly be meeting ms wong soon.
one word of advice.
read carefully. don't miss anything. multiple meanings in there to be seen. and no, nothing incriminating.
Intentions
It is an old town, lost town, crook town. Once, very long ago, it was the choice residential district of the city, and there are still standing a few of the jigsaw Gothic mansions with wide porches and walls covered in round-end shingle and full-corner bay windows with spindle turrets. They are all rooming homes now, their parquetry floors are scratched and worn through the once glossy finish and the wide sweeping of dirt. In the tall rooms haggard landladies bicker with shifty tenants. On the wide cool front porches, reaching their cracked shoes into the sun, and staring at nothing, sit the old men with faces like lost battles.
~~~
In the largest of these mansions lived the oldest of these men. He went by the name of Abel. In Latin, Abel meant life, breath, or so the bickering landladies whispered. Ironically, Abel, or old apes as they whispered behind his back, was nothing like life. He was small, dark, bent, musty smelling, almost like death itself. Just as the others, he sat and stared, silent, his eyes shaded by a pair of dark glasses that he rarely took off. It suited the townspeople just as well. For when he took off his glasses, his strange, violet pupils glistened, shone. They feared his eyes. It burnt, bore, and ripped through the library of one’s mind as naturally as breathing. They had no privacy, space, or even dignity when he chose to see their darkest secrets. No one ever went near him; much less to say provoked him.
Old Abel lived with his grandson, Han. It is believed that old Abel killed his wife, his son and his daughter-in-law when Han was born, on a stormy thanksgiving night. For ever since the first day the townspeople had seen Han in a cradle beside old Abel, they had never once appeared. Just as old Abel, Han had a pair of violet eyes, but it was a kinder pair of eyes. At ten, he was the best-looking boy in town, with his chiseled features, soft brown hair and unique eyes. He never talked to anyone though, and trudged alone everyday, mostly entertaining himself in his garden if he did come out from the mansion. Old Abel never did believe in entrusting his kin to schools, hence Han was the only child in town (not that there were many) who was home schooled. They led a quiet life, with no disturbances, no one knowing what they did everyday.
~~~
Thanksgiving night. It was raining, for the first time in ten years, on this day.
A young woman and a small girl strode with purpose to old Abel’s mansion. They were not people of the town, but yet knew their way just as if they had lived there all their life. The young woman reached out to pull her black hood back, revealing big wavy golden curls that tumbled out, when she saw old Abel. Understanding flickered in old Abel’s eyes the split second he let out the most horrific screech ever. He began laughing, a long cackle that was strangely sad. The young woman said nothing, but pushed the little girl towards old Abel. He lifted his trembling hand, seeming to pull off the little girl’s hood, to take a better look at her. However, his hand shrank back even before he touched her. The woman’s eyes glowed with triumph. She turn to leave, leaving old Abel with the words, “Her name is also Ronica, Ron as you know it. Beware.”
~~~
Ron hated it here. She hated old Abel, she hated her mother, but she hated the house the most. It was only five minutes, and already she hated it. She could hear voices, sounds, in her head, telling her things she did not understand or want to know. She saw happenings that disgusted her, through a soft cloud. She was unsure why her mother insisted she had to stay, although she knew her intentions were not good. Why else would her mother shove a pack of cyanide into her coat pocket without telling her the reason for it? She was sick, tired and frustrated by the constant noises in her head. She headed to the second level of Dome, as old Abel called his mansion to her new room.
What is she doing here? Old ape will kill if he finds out there’s a stranger in Dome.
She heard it, distinctly, even though she could see no one. “Come out. No, stay where you are. I don’t want to see you. Stay out of my way. Dome is mine now.” She heard herself saying before she could stop herself. Down the hallway, someone moved. She saw a pair of violet eyes appraising her.
Interesting. So you are Ron. You hear me, don’t you?
“Shut up. You don’t know me.” She scowled, irritated at his knowledge.
Here’s a gift. Keep it. If you are smart enough, go now. No good comes out of Dome.
A boomerang hit her in the shin before it returned to its owner.
I’m Han. Hi.
She was left alone, fury taking over her being, as he disappeared into a room.
~~~
Staring down at the battlefield in his room, Han was worried. Ron was finally here. Bit by bit, she would be taken over by Dome, just as Abel had been. He was prepared for this day, but had not expected Ron to be a frail looking little girl with golden curls that stood out in the gloom of Dome. It would be hard, he thought, to go according to my plans now. She is far stronger than I thought she would be, even though she looks weak. He knew, if he failed, the penalty would be death. He fingered the boomerang in his hands that had hit Ron earlier. It was time to act. He moved the soldier on his battlefield up a step.
~~~
Ron sat in the study, with her latest favourite book in hand. The Scourge of the Marsh Monster. It soothed her to read it. She used to love the trashy romance novels that her mother kept hidden in the kitchen drawers, thinking she would never find it. Now, she could not remember the reasons why she even picked up those novels in the first place. They were so predictable, without the suspense and thrill that Marsh Monster gave her. She looked up from her book as a cold breeze blew in the room. Her sight locked on the fireplace. It looked so warm and inviting. Intoxicated, she walked towards the fireplace, her hands stretched out as if to touch the cheerful orange flames. Closer, closer, closer she inched towards the burning flames. Just as she was about to touch the fire, something in her snapped. She jumped back, shocked at herself. She had just been ready to stick her hands and head into the fireplace. She shook her head violently. Was she possessed?
Han walked in while she was mulling over her abnormal actions. Ron’s eyes immediately turned from surprise to cold animosity. He never talked to her, just as he never talked to Abel. Despite that, she heard voices that she replied to as if he were speaking. She did not understand why the voices appeared, neither was she sure if the voice was his. She felt uncomfortable and disliked it whenever the voices came, and thus she disliked Han. For when he appeared, the voices rose to a decibel level that gave her headaches. Each time he appeared, she would be on the verge of actions that puzzled her.
Triumph. Triumph. Triumph. But...
Ron was furious. She was incensed at Han’s triumphant eyes, his smile. “You don’t know your parents, do you? You don’t even have friends, you freak!” Ron burst out, surprising even herself with the venom with which she spat out her words. She was rewarded with the violet eyes clouding over with hurt, which made her feel elated for a moment, before feeling guilty the next instant. “I didn’t mean it. You caught me at the wrong time. Just go.” She forced herself to give her apology.
Suit yourself.
Ron was disturbed.
~~~
Han cursed himself as he moved the piece that was the soldier. He should never have given her a chance. He should never have backed out at the last moment, stopped by the deceivingly innocent looking golden curls. It would be hard to find an opportunity as good as that again. He pushed another soldier on his battlefield up another step. He got up form his seat and entered Ron’s room.
~~~
Ron saw the boomerang as soon as she entered the room. It was laid on the middle of her table. Han had been to her room, and left it there, she knew. Fear gnawed at her guts as she picked up the boomerang. Evil returns to its roots. Always. She remembered her mother’s intense words. She sped out to the garden.
There, Han was playing with his rabbits, as she knew he would. She had seen him spending most of his time in the garden, but she never went near him.
Go right. Move down. Stop. Good girl.
Ron’s eyes widened as it became clear in an instant. The voice was Han’s. He was the ultimate assassin that mankind could have. The rabbits followed his instructions, moving uniformly. Han turned around to meet Ron’s terrified eyes, as the boomerang fell from her hands. It was time, he knew, but he let her run off into Dome. He walked over to the boomerang and picked it up. Let her have time for her last good-byes.
~~~
Her hands were shaking as she emptied the white contents into his drinking bottle. It was an evil thing to do, but she felt she had to. She had to act before he did. She ran back to her room and slammed the door shut. Forcing herself to calm down, she sat down at her window seat and opened the long windows. There were no grilles on the windows, which were ugly holes in the walls that could be dangerous if one was not careful. People could easily fall through them. Ron’s mind was not on this problem. A cool breeze blew in the room and she gradually quieted down. Maybe I am overly paranoid. Maybe I was just imagining things. Maybe I should not have acted so rashly with the cyanide. Thoughts churned in her head as she looked out of the window.
The boomerang came fast and suddenly. It hit her on the shoulder hard before it returned back. Ron’s feet no longer listened to her. They moved forward, causing her to lose her balance. She fell outwards with a sick splat. Behind the door, a pair of violet eyes gleamed.
~~~
He had not intended to end it all so early. He was safe now, the threat of the curse that his grandfather had always reminded him of was gone. Strangers would never destroy him. He would rid them first. He felt sorry for Ron, but it had to be done. He shoved his soldier into the enemy’s camp as he took a swig of water. Victory was sweet.
~~~
Abel sighed. He was left with nothing. He heard her words clearly. My children will destroy yours. She had been half-right. She had come back as her grandchild not only to destroy his. She had also taken his morals away. She had succeeded in making him see his past sins. Now, all that was left for him, was loneliness.
posted by sarangaia || 5:44 AM Monday, February 21, 2005
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"funfair" |
it is undisputed that today cannot compare to rv's annual heritage day.
i remember heritage day.. such a mess of activity and so much fun. it was fun because everyone enjoyed. it was fun because everyone i loved would be there, giving everything their best shot.. even 4e was able to at least work together that day. aj familly day was fun, but it was not awesome. there was just this element lacking. everyone seemed reluctant, somehow. as much as i tried to be enthusiastic, my spirits truly lifted only after 12. and i guess my whole class knows why. nono, not because of cinderalla like connotations. yes, you got it.
i was really.. how should i put this across.. shocked? no really. well, it was a mixture of everything. mostly, i was really happy. very happy. so happy i was reduced to grinning every now and then. like, things have been planned for so long, but today was the day it really happened. plus it wasn't even planned beforehand. aw man. i was bursting with happiness. lolly. wahahaha.
i guess this confirms it, doesn't it? for the time being, at least, even if there are distractions, i know where my emotions, my heart leads my. just as it has had these 4 years.
"if you know me well enough, i don't believe in things such as fate."
it has meaning.
maybe i should stick to music. as one means it, maybe i should let it go, just as one is considering.
but i can't.
i'm really happy.
sarang hei.
posted by sarangaia || 5:30 AM Saturday, February 19, 2005
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attitude |
this is it. i'm gonna name names. I'M PISSED.
me? attitude problem? are you blind or what? i seriously suspect so. who else could be so enthusiatic about co? hello??!!! i just seriously don't like people breathing down my neck when i'm practising. it makes me uncomfy, and i'll wish to go home. especially if FUKANG breathes down my neck. you just don't get it do you? tell me where i went wrong, how i should improve..whatever. i will listen and i don't mind. i WILL try my best to produce the best sounds on my erhu or in this case, gaohu. BUT I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE BREATHING DOWN MY NECK, CHECKING EVERY MINUTE IF I'M IN TUNE, RESTRICTING MY MOVEMENT. i mean, HELLO??!! i'm not some dog to be stared at for house training. frankly speaking, you make me feel like that. I'M SERIOUSLY INSULTED BY YOUR ASKING PEOPLE BEHIND MY BACK IF I HAVE AN ATTITUDE PROBLEM. just ask ANYONE in rvco. i don't even have to tell you what they'll say. or go ask any of the teachers in charge/instructors. see what they'll say. see how you'll feel when you hear what they say. i may not be as overzealous as lim kah hoe, but i DO have a passion for co. and i don't have to show you it. because its IN ME, and i DON'T have to GODAMNIT prove to YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i'm telling you, i HATE THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL. say you're sorry as you might, say you have mood swings as you like, I STILL FEEL THIS WAY. i'm a PERSON, not some THING, for god's sake. you can't just tell me, sorry, don't be offended if i say this, say that.. WHATEVER. it still stands that i feel that way and will continue feeling so. FEELINGS ARE FRAGILE YOU KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SAY IT IN FRONT OF MY FACE IF YOU THINK I HAVE AP. why do you have to go SNEAKING BEHIND PEOPLE'S backs? I'M VERY INSULTED.
you put the clock there, of course i have to turn back to look at the clock. and has it ever occured to you that i was SICK, thus wanted to go HOME??? i had to get an MC the next day godamit. DO I NEED TO SHOW YOU MY MEDICATION? well, i could but I WON'T. BECAUSE I"VE BEEN SERIOUSLY INSULTED BY YOU.
maybe i should leave aj. what's the point of staying on when people think i have an attitude problem for the thing i love best?
that's it, this is the last straw.
I'M PISSED.
posted by sarangaia || 5:18 AM Thursday, February 17, 2005
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fun |
well. sort of.
went to L2m's house for the second time. eh? wierd. only the second? yea, but you know how she is. funny how you realise that a teacher's impression of you change over time, especially when you have graduated. pleasantly surprised to learn that she recognises that i love the arts. haha, was kinda shocked too. anyway, we stayed till five plus and were the last ones to leave. the five of us. me the only girl.
was side-splitting, the expression she had on when she was talking about bho. "you know, with all those things happening last year.. but he came! and those who were supposed to come back didn't.." [wide eyed look] you get the idea. i mean, she was the perfect demon when we were physicsing[haha]. then again, when you leave, you realise she's probably the best teacher you'll ever have. she's candid. she doesn't give you "face". in essence, she never lies, not to you, not to your parents. she says the nastiest things straight in your face, to your parents, only to have you realise a few years later that she was really right. some still hate her, as their visitation to my house [fun!] revealed. but not me anymore. you can't exactly hate the person who is most honest to you right? she's nice. from the bottom of my heart, she is.
well, sat's housecalls from my best mates was great fun. wl and e were getting too chummy though.. i also spat out my green tea. no offense. this is the gaia not used to e being..omg...sweet. %*&#! hehehe.. don't come with a butcher knife!
the dude thought i was dating him and the dude's my kor! how embarrassing. yoz, where'd the telepathy go to? nonono, nahnahnah, for the last time i say this.. NO. PERIOD. hah! :) but don't worry dude.. you'll still be my bestest kor. good luck 4 ur performance!
met up with dada.. still as pretty. anyway, she rocks. that's final.
recounts aside.
look around.
what do you see?
i see families.
but are they so?
sometimes doubt comes.
then again, at least for the moment..
things are picture perfect.
here's to a fuss free, no strings, single, and..
HAPPY
val's day!
tmr.
hope i won't miss hor
too much.
sarang hei,dudes & dudettes!
to 6m[bpps, '00] 1/2E [rvhs, '01'02] 3/4E[rvhs, '03'04], 3505[aj,'05], all rvco peeps, ajco peeps.
posted by sarangaia || 11:40 PM Saturday, February 12, 2005
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generic |
this must run in the family.
she was the perfect daughter. or so she seemed. there's always a more perfect sister.
maybe i misunderstood. i've never actually bothered to anyway. i loathed, i despised everything she stood for, everything i saw.
i was wrong?
maybe.
maybe not.
intersections don't happen for nuts.
as it goes on, i discover more. i am limited, i don't know much, but my skills learnt from miss wong [thank thee] is convincing enough to bring me through this.
i wonder if the same is felt? then again, it was quite long ago. all that love talk, so foolish.
yet so like me.
this must run in the family.
it does.
the writing... faultless for one, a teeny blemished for the other.
mine? you decide. faultless? i doubt so. blemished? i don't know.
it must be.
it has to be.
it is.
generic.
posted by sarangaia || 5:49 AM Friday, February 11, 2005
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single |
i realise i like to use single words for my blog titles. ohswell. i guess its just a bad habit i picked up from we-all-know-who.
heartache. feels so damn heavy, it does. i've lost ALL of my blood and sweat to some bloody system error that ebloggy refuses to clear up. it just ain't fair. everything in there was the purest, clearest i've ever had, and now poof! gone. completely. sure, i ought to change that one recurrent theme of mine. then again, thoughts capture not part but all. there's no escaping it.
sometimes, it's just so apt. single. as in solitary, lonely. not that i'm feeling particularly so.just went to ps with kh today, and we met loads of people while trying to shop. i know, i know, i'm being exploited, at the same time i'm getting myself into the usual shit that i hate. i hate being linked up like an item. a thing. just not with feeling, like as if the world looks out only for facades. look into my eyes, look and not glance. see it. see it for yourself. there's only sympathy and a soft spot i keep for old friends. nothing else. because the soul is not in my eyes now. no matter how happy i am, i see matter, not soul. i want it back. soon i shall.
val's day coming. guess it'll be the first one i spend single for all these time. kinda unbelievable how i managed to have a person spend that much time with me. haha.. i do feel free. no strings, no fuss. no soul. well, there's always a down side. i'll ignore it.
single in my mindset, single in my aim, single in the things i see. single in my thoughts, single in my being.
single in my song, single in my piece.
yet, there's warmth in singularity. i see so much more, so clearly. i see the problems, i anticipate them. i see faucets i don't like, i see bumps and creeks.
but i see.
and you might not.
i see my friends. i see my foes.
i might fall, but i'll not stay. i'll move on.
it takes time.
focus.
single.
posted by sarangaia || 5:05 AM
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cold |
how warm is the world?
how do you measure warmth?
degrees? fareinheit?
how old is your heart?
a year, two?
or is it so scarred and old
you don't recognise anymore?
what is true love?
to give, to take
roses, chocolates
or a commercialised cupid?
how do you measure intelligence?
F9, A1
or aptitude?
how accurate are things?
precise, concise
or not at all?
where are you?
in my brain, my heart
a mirage
or as before?
who do you love most?
your friends, your family
or your significant other?
do you feel warm or cold
or nothing at all?
do you love or hate,
or are you just plain indifferent?
do you care
or are you just unable to answer?
how are you, i wonder
i wonder..
posted by sarangaia || 2:41 AM Sunday, February 06, 2005
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saturday |
anticipation for the unknown.
even though i know with his past credits, he'll probably be too lazy to come.
oh well, there's still hope.
i miss the spotlight, the spotlight of performing with people who have roughed it out with me. kinda looking forward to cny.. will probably be the last performance for some time. but then again, its bound to be sad, just listen to the sounds of the timpani. that reminds of a lot.
carpe diem.. who knows my pain? to preach, but to be unable to actually practice it all the time. sometimes it really grates on me, especially when i'm going home. there's no joy, no excitement in going home now. all because there is not thou who would provide comfort.
i don't usually talk about the details of my life, but it seems i'm making a lot of exceptions lately. just look at my blog. such a mess of my life. where am i? just forget it.
speaking about clement was like picking on a scab. no one ever mentions him anymore. its simply too painful, even after this two plus years. seems like yesterday when i saw her cry on that saturday. but i should have done this earlier. i should have closed this chapter earlier.
ohswell.. there's no room for regret anymore, ain't it?
ther's always saturday! time to meet dada and...
if he appears.
posted by sarangaia || 4:50 PM Thursday, February 03, 2005
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