
Mum, Dad, me, Xiao Ku & Joshua, with my 93-year-old grandpa sitting at the very front.
This photo was taken merely 8 months ago. To think that so many things have happened in the span of 8 months.
Sometimes, I consider you my best friend. Sometimes I don’t. You know why? Because you bring me joy and pain. And also boredom. Although the confusing thing about you is that when I’m happy around you, I’m happy to the degree of ecstasy; and when I’m sad around you, I’m sad to the degree of devastation. This is why sometimes I don’t consider you my best friend. Because best friends don’t do that. Heck, friends don’t do that. So I beg of you, please, please make up your mind if you want to make me happy or sad. Not both. I cannot handle the confusion if you juggle both.
This is how I outline our friendship: whenever you come around, I always feel so excited and happy towards your arrival, and I always think up of many, many plans to spend with you when the time comes. But somehow, I don’t know how, these plans always never work. Because of you. Don’t ask me why, ask yourself. You’re the cause of all these problems. And so with the failure of these plans, comes distaste and weariness. You wear me out, to the extent that I wished you were never born. Finally, comes the worse stage of all: your departure. You always leave at the wrong times, at the worst times. You don’t give a rat’s ass, do you, always leaving me like that without even thinking of the dire consequences your horrible actions inflict upon me? You call yourself a friend? Yes, you do exhaust and bore me sometimes but I thought you were my friend! Once again, let me repeat, friends don’t do that. So now you’re going to leave me all alone, in this barren, abominable land again?
The sad thing of this all is, despite the countless times you have hurt me (more than the times you have made me happy, in fact) I still turn to you. I still anticipate your arrival every single time. And I wait myself silly like a naive little child, even though I know you’re always going to leave me in the end. Yes, these wounds are self-inflicted, but you still don’t give a rat’s ass, do you?
Goodbye, holidays.
Not that sincerely,
Michelle.
Thank you Yuen Ming, Pei Fong, Yu Han, Jia Yee and Hoi Chin for calling me at midnight to trick me into thinking you guys were really outside my house when you guys were actually on a bus on the way to KL, and for singing me a birthday song besides wishing me ‘happy birthday’ personally.
Thank you Laiyy for that 3-minute Skype session to sing me a birthday song and show me your room.
Thank you Sasha for the call and text updates all the way from KL so that I wasn’t truly alone.
Thank you David for that online party and everyone who participated in it (that means you CC and Daryl) until my birthday was truly over. Best virtual birthday party ever, might I add. And also the reason for the first smile I had on my face for the day.
Thank you Sasha and David for dropping by to give me a gift, even though it was raining and you guys were supposed to be heading for dinner. Thank you for the gift with the lovely letter as well.
And of course, thank you everyone for the wishes through Facebook, Twitter and texts which I personally thanked for, each and everyone of them.
🙂
And I can tell just what you want
You don’t want to be alone
You don’t want to be alone
-Two Door Cinema Club
All I want for my birthday, the only day when I allow myself to feel superior than everyone else, is to not be alone. And for people to care. There, I’ve said it.
You might think of this post as a pathetic call for attention. I couldn’t care less.
I wasn’t always a shy, quiet kid. In fact, I was much more of an extrovert in my childhood days than I am now. I don’t know when this social-butterfly-turn-abominable-hermit turning point of my life took place, but what I do know is how huge a turning point it was in my life.
I am scared of people. Of strangers and large crowds. Especially superior people who make me lose self-esteem. There are two kinds of situations in which I deal with meeting strangers/people I don’t know well differently:
If everything else fails, I just smile and pretend everything’s alright. I am pretty sure if everyone could hear my thoughts, they wouldn’t hear me shut up at all.
It’s not like I don’t try at all, because I do, I always do. I always start off by being optimistic, constantly reminding myself, “Michelle, don’t just keep quiet, remember to say hi.” “Michelle, you could start off by asking her how’s school.” “Michelle, remember to smile.” And these reminders usually work if we start on a conversational topic and I cling onto that one topic for dear life. But most of the time I run out of materials to talk about or in the cases of group conversations, I become irrelevant. Then I start to pay more attention to my surroundings. And so I drift away from the conversation and end up in my own bubble, as always, unless I get hold of a possible remark which I hold on to, until the moment is right and under the pressure of wanting to be sociable I blurt it out. This is a long thought process for me so this happens only once in a few minutes, or none at all.
Generally, this is Michelle the introvert in a nutshell.
I see the world divided into two kinds of people: the extroverts and the introverts. I’ve heard of people wanting to be extroverts but never introverts. This leads me to wonder, is being an introvert really a negative thing? Well I mean, yes, social interactions are problems and whatnot but sometimes, sometimes when I’m not pressured to be sociable, I enjoy silence. I can be among a group of people and choose to be silent because that’s what I prefer to be. But apparently everyone thinks more highly of extroverted people so we introverts strive to be more socially outwards but as a strong believer of naturality, I believe no one should ever change themselves because they are made to be the way they are, and changing and altering themselves is just wrong because I think the people of this world are horribly tainted, and that is just wrong. We introverts deserve a place in this world too, and we deserve to be heard, if not verbally then through words or paintings or other creative illustrations.
I find this post very difficult to write. Maybe it’s because I am contradicting myself with every word I spew out or maybe it’s because it’s already 1:30AM and this gastritis is killing me.

The event in which Michelle shows her true patriotic Kedahan spirit?
Ha! As if.
The reason why I got green/yellow braces today is to match my nail polish.
That is the reason why.
After that, Dad insisted we visit the Floral Exhibition in the Botanical Garden and I even made a DIY recycling bag for 15 Ringgit! An excruciating 30 minutes later, it turned out uglier than the one done by a 7-year-old sitting next to me, so I quickly left the booth and hid the bag in the car.
Random interesting incident of the day: We had lunch at a Japanese restaurant and Mum ordered mayonnaise pork so when her meal came the waitress said, “Mayo set?” and my Mum shoved the tray at me. It was hilarious at the time and my Mum tried to defend herself by saying, “Well, your name is Mayo!”
We went to Si Pek’s house yesterday (they just came back from England) and found out the pups are named!




The other two black puppies who Mum didn’t take photos of are Zorro and Happy.
…that sounded racist, didn’t it?
Okay, bye.
I know I’m not really in a place to write about a blogpost concerning “School Years” since I am still technically in school. But just the other day, I was passing by the Form 1 block, observing the thirteen-year-olds of my school, and a stray thought automatically popped into my head.
You people still have a long way to go.
It was an automatic reflex. Not a well-thought-out thought.
I then pressed the rewind button on my life, back to when I was thirteen, scared and confused as I made my first step into this school. For those who didn’t know, I was a late entry into Asma, transferred here after two to three weeks of schooling in Keat Hwa. I was supposed to be in the Asma registration list since all the Pumpong girls who got straight As for the past few years were automatically put into Asma. But it was different during my year. So my mum took some pretty extraordinary measures to get me into the school, and in the end I did, but I admit, during the first few weeks, I really wished she hadn’t. I was a loner you see, because I didn’t have any “primary school friends” with me as opposed to everyone else. Don’t get me wrong, some people were friendly, but as I wasn’t part of their “groups”, I didn’t have anyone else to rely on. It was worse than just being “the new kid in school” because technically, everyone’s a new kid, so being singled out made me feel like a freak. Like I said, not everyone treated me with animosity, but let’s just say I looked forward to the last ringing bell signaling the end of school every single day.
That is, until I got back my first test results.
That’s when I started making friends…and enemies. I won’t go into that part because it’s probably too personal for my liking but I guess I can say my life in school improved immensely after that. It’s really sad that my test results appeal to people much, much more than my personality.
Anyway, back to the topic. I was placing myself in their shoes, and seeing through my thirteen-year-old eyes, back when I thought, man, secondary school sure as hell is going to be one hell of a ride. Five years. Five years! And that’s not counting two major examinations to be sat for! Mountains and mountains of homework! Extra-curricular activities to join! Friends! Rivals! Oh the drama! It sounded really, really tiring and exhausting to me, but naturally, as a thirteen-year-old, I didn’t ruminate as much as I do now. Thus, quite surprisingly, Form 1, 2 and 3 passed by in a flash. I swear, I didn’t know time could pass by that fast. I swear, it just seemed like yesterday that I first stepped into Sultanah Asma School.
Now, I am in Form 4. And I am thinking of the one last year I have left in this school (well, this year is pretty much already coming to an end so I’m not taking into the account the remaining 5 months and 22 days of this year). To think that I had actually thought that my journey through secondary school would be a sluggish one. And now I only have a year left in this school. I don’t think you understand how shocking this was to me right there at that moment, as I stood before 1 Kedah, looking in at the noisy students who were in a rush to pass up their homework. That was me just three years ago. Boy, did those three years pass by in the blink of an eye. Full of both wonderful and horrible memories. And soon, I will be leaving this place. In a year’s time. A year’s time might seem very long, but judging by how fast time passed by in the previous three years, I would disagree.
So I took back my words, because they didn’t need my “advice” anyway. Because before they know it, they will be seniors themselves soon enough, and it won’t be a long way to go for them, like it actually wasn’t for me. I know, I know, I’m not a graduating senior yet, but perhaps I’m glad that I didn’t have to wait until the day of my graduation to realise this. Perhaps I’m glad that I know I still have a year to appreciate the memories I had and will have in this school, as cheesy as it sounds, because I know, once I leave this nest, I’ll never be able to return to the comforts of it again.
I try, again and again to make everyone happy. At the same time, I try to be the best for everyone. I try to make things work, with or without my presence. But if there is ever one thing I do best without even trying in the slightest, it’s never doing something right. Everything I do, everything I say, everything I write is just wrong, wrong, wrong.
As stupid as it sounds, I just want to be perfect for everyone, so no one would ever have to worry about me screwing things up anymore.

I find it extremely ironic and unfair that every last paper I sit for in an exam always makes me feel shitty.
Exhibit A: For UPSR, I thought I did really bad in my last paper, English Paper 2, and while everyone was celebrating, I went home feeling really worried.
Exhibit B: For PMR, I thought I did really bad in my last paper, Mandarin Paper 2, and while everyone was celebrating, I went home feeling really worried.
Exhibit C: This time, for midyears, I did really bad in my last paper, Accounts Paper 2, and while everyone was celebrating, I felt all the pent-up energy reserved just for this moment, this moment when I finally pass up my last paper, drain out of myself, and I cannot bring myself to be relieved or glad even for a minute.
I know it’s pointless worrying over something like this, but I already know the subjects I’m going to be really disappointed with are:

When you are as bored as I am, everything automatically becomes hilarious.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Very punny indeed.
I have Math tomorrow. Two more days and I can finally ‘Stop Worrying and Start Living’.
Edit: Title edited for suitability. Title credits: Sufjan Stevens.
Thought I couldn’t really stay away from the Internet for more than week, didn’t you? Well, you’re right. I thought to myself, since it’s the weekend anyway, and you’ve promised yourself not to feel so self-abased easily next time, fine, you’re off the hook.
The first thing I find out the moment I go on Twitter is the rapidly-spreading rumour that the allegedly “brand new” date for Judgment Day is tomorrow. Apparently, some person did some math and came up with the latest date of the apocalypse, which is May 21st 2011. If that isn’t enough, CDC (Center for Diseases Control and Prevention) recently released a blog entry titled “Preparedness 101: Zombie Apocalypse” and while this might seem like a very late April Fool joke (it certainly seemed like one to me! Still does.) the people working in CDC are pretty serious about this matter, relating the zombie-triggered apocalypse to the Japan nuclear power plant radiation disaster.
Shit just got real, huh?
It’s not surprising that news like these are floating around in cyberspace right now. People are probably already bored of 2012 already (I know I am), thinking that well, there’s still more than a year until the 2012 Apocalypse right?
Maybe they’ll rope John Cusack in again for another blockbuster movie titled “Muhhhh Muhhhh MUHHHHH!!!” (Zombie language for “I’m hungry!”)
That’s all for now.
PS. Can everyone stop talking about prom?????!!!!!!!!!111

I would take a leaf out of Lisa’s book if I could, but since I can’t, I’m just going to go on a break from the Internet to get over how lousy I feel about my life right now. I contemplated deactivating all accounts but then decided that I’ll come back to them eventually when I feel better anyway. I don’t know when that will happen, though, most probably next week after exams. I had a really huge fit last night and I thought this would be the best option. I can’t say what exactly is wrong because too many people view this blog but since Xuen suggested I pour everything out into my blog, here I present you with a very vague and obscure post. I’ll probably be fine in a few days, if I can manage it. A break is all I need.
So yeah, goodbye to all social interactions through the Internet for now. If anyone needs me for anything urgent, I’m just a text away.

Yep.
Write a story or just about anything based on a verse (or more) of lyrics of your choice.
Easy peasy lemon squeazy!