tired. lalallallalaaa. should go to church? perhaps. this is one long programming land with no help whatsoever and we have no tech knowhow. now to program pages. :P

eressë Tol Sáranna

sina manen nilmë ósanwë ve?


met ar eressë osto
calassë anda vanwa.

melnyel, nan hanyal?
vá!
áva nyar - inyë vanta mi sindanor

kids say the darndest things:
"mom, are those conuts?"
"mom, whats a dult?"

little brothers were suitably embarassed.

we are so dead.

well, ive done it. this chapter has been closed. perhaps i'll go back there again someday, but not until december, at least.

on the bright side, i get to beat up 2 members of the aci debate team :P


mood of the moment - sitting here in somnolent acedia, possibly even somnolent sobriety.
music of the moment - the crickets, my keyboard, and whatever sound mom's laptop makes.

you're just too good to be true.


and always look on the bright side of life.

star wars origami, anyone?

disjointed angel
black-tint wings
cracking smile
from different things

spinning round and dragging all
happy like a broken doll

and the bug is out.
i swear, really. backup your blogs.

I. the atmosphere

the music is blaring in my ears,
two songs, over and over
and over
again.
one of dreams, one of self,
and one more,
of me
disturbed.

II. the stratosphere

its raining, and somehow, i'm
troubled,
by my
mal/miscontent?
i have everything i could have
at my fingertips
dancing across keys,
and everything i could want
flickering in bytes across
the screen, in pixels and pages.

and yet,
i am restless.
stretched out,
unsettled,
tired/not tired.
sleep beckons
and i dont want to go.
every movement is a chore
an effort
yet effortless.

puppet.

i'm suspended, detached,
hung from invisible strings,
tied around my limbs
(and maybe one day
these enroaching chains
will find my neck)

the puppet master is out there
somewhere,
pulling my strings.
perhaps the master does not know
i dance to his/her bidding.
perhaps he/she does.

something is missing.
something is wrong
and i dont know what.

a caged tiger,
restless,
un[settled/easy]
(take your pick.)
i feel like running,
and i know that i'll
drop
after five meters.

my state of mind is oxymoronic,
my being is oxymoronic
i am just moronic.

sian.

what the.. my maid has just fixed a broken phone.

it would have cost $80 otherwise, minimum, at nokia.

the friggin blog thing screwed up on me. something about a damn link. people, backup your blogs.

utter mad link added.

If LotR Had Been Written By Someone Else!?

pianopianopiano. the saint-saens went down well, thank goodness. 1.5 hour recital, with a very weird "peter and the wolf (with assorted animal sounds)". had fondue (garlicky) and the cheese thing (tuna! and spinach!) again.

bach has mad toccata and fugues.

cup game! whee! a tradition, almost.

home. homehomehome. slacking and slogging. nuff said.

gwaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

ridiculous debate for cca exhibition. "TH prefers legolas to aragorn" wth. and heres me running through everywhere yelling "the debate, the question: this house prefers legolas to aragorn!"

then an amble off to meet shama. she's nice :) but i think we subjected her to torture. random yabbling about strange stuff over pizza. and arguments on how you should EAT pizza.

utterly stoned. the usual afternoon at cyberia, then parted ways, and claud dragged me into zara, m)phosis etc for which i am utterly horrified. also at the fact that they plan to dress me up and have lined up prom dresses. *eurgH*

hooray for the library. and kino :)

piano for 2 hours. am heartily sick of railroad song.

and my mom has succumbed. *sigh*

and a friggin deep blue funk again.

love ya.

i furu, alatahanya
úvëa ormenya
úvëa nyérenya

miscommunication, hah.

and what good is there in the world?

you can see through the future, but can you see past the past?

so near and
yet
so far
away.

i never seem to see his face.

how do you want to bridge the gap?
somehow i keep missing....
by seconds and miles.

sudden lapses of colour
a dip into stolen paintings
and your ghost between us

hehehehehehheh.

little brother:
"i'm gonna take the king of the strawberries!" *gropes for strawberry* "ahah! i got it!" *bites*
*makes face*
apparently we neglected to tell him that white strawberries aren't the sweetest.
so he takes a nice red one next.
*bite*
*makes face again*
after that he uses sugar :)

whee!