Rabbit Tears

Let's pack our bags for a little getaway. Have you gotten your luggage ready, what're you waiting for?

Tout à l'heure

•    Can I disappear already? Is it time now? 

•    The birds are chirping, the sun is setting, the cold wind beckons for me. 

•    Do you see me slowly dissipating into thin air? Don't hold on, you can't stop my desire to fade away. 

•    Common folks are losing grip of my presence, why don't you appear, they ask? 

But isn't it Spring, and Spring's a season to go missing. 

Oh, catch me before I disappear, catch me won't you? 

•    I wish to be alone, but no, not lonely. 
•    Here I belong, right here, at the spot next to you, where I used to crave for. 


•    I am really used to. 

500 Days of Summer.

She hasn't watched the movie before, but he mentioned it, henceforth, she does know.

"I'm sorry, I'm a coward."

She dislikes the movie.

"It's ludicrous," she says. "Why can't they end up together?" 

But sometimes, people are just destined to meet, not by accident, but a chance of fate. A predestined meeting, but you just can't be together.

People see him for what he is, not who he really is. But, what makes her think that she sees more? 

She hates him for all that she knows he dabbles in, but she's fallen for that grief.

They're miles apart, not contacting, lost in distance and what they can't restore. It's as though she's been through space and back, oh, that Summer stint, as she calls it.

This feeling is unique. You can't call it interest, nor friendship. It's something deeper along the fault lines. Two individuals who share the same pain, broken along identical scars, but with a distinctly different story.

"Why aren't you sad?"

"Sad, I don't know how to."

"What happens, when it happens?"

But he's met the prettiest girl in the world and what he needs isn't you, but her to mend the hole in his heart. 

She's convinced herself so, and went along her way. There isn't a need to think over it, oh, there isn't.

She thought about him while doing up this post: His grief, his pain and his love for her.

And she wishes upon the stars, that he'll be a happy person, maybe, one day. Who knows?

This is for a really, really sad bunny.

And his concern, albeit slight and frivolous, touches her, greatly. It's nothing more than mere mortals sharing the same fate. 

I love her blog, it's beautiful. I hope she will continue blogging, that motivational blogger of mine.

"What do you want to be? A bunny? But you're a doll." 

"I can be anything, 'cause I've never been visible to him."

How do you see me, behind those rabbit tears? 

"Can I be a wolf instead? Do wolves get hurt?"

Higher powers from above, please motivate a lazy bunny to attend her last week's worth of classes.

Are you a bunny? Can you be a bunny? I love bunnies.

Blogging from Ngee Ann Campus. 
Bunny makes her promise, she'll not skip classes tomorrow. 












xoxo

Steal your rose, don't lose it.

There was a look of pain in his eyes as he held onto her hand for the last time. 

"Don't go," he pleaded. "stay with me."

Her heart, a blue-bass thud of a demon's breath, it paled. 

"How can I..." she whispered, "when you're all I've to lose?"

In the waters, there isn't him, there isn't her; no them, nor the crowds and the half smirks that played, over and over again like a broken cassette in her mind. He had on the sweetest smile she'd ever seen. Yet all that was left were memories that bled into you, coloring you, destroying you.

"I'd drown." 

And she let herself go. In the waters, she's invisible. 

Coop: If you’re afraid of everyone leaving you, what do you do?

Ellie: Make them stay

• Coop: And if you can’t do that, or don’t know how to?
• 
  
• Ellie: I don’t know
• 
  
• Coop: You leave first, so you don’t have to watch them walk away.
• 
  
• Jodi Picoult- Plain Truth
• 
  

"As it turns out you can function when your heart is being torn to shreds. Blood pumps, breaths flow, neutrons fire. What goes missing is that affect; a curios flatness to voice and actions that, if noted, speak of a hole so deep inside there's no visible end to it."

Jodi Picoult - Perfect Match

They were having those usual conversations again, mother-daughter talk, but tonight, it was tinged with a little dash of grief and comprehension. Shouldn't love be a beautiful thing? So why does it hurt so badly? 

"Cause that's not love, honey. He's not the right person yet. Your prince charming will whisk you off your feet, put butterflies in your stomach, makes you feel perfect and confident, and he'll never, never let you cry, even if he could. And when you do meet such a boy, please bring him home to me."

But mom, I'm 18, and I know that there's no prince charming in this world, not anymore.

"Do you see me and your dad, sweetheart? Do you think that's love?"

She pondered for a while, reminiscing their fights and squabbles, those petty arguments that almost tore the relationship apart, and how they always manage to patch things back, only to find themselves flirting and snatching the tv control, screaming at each other but always end up in sweet little hugs.

I don't know. 

"That's love, baby, and when it happens on you, it's mutual. It's gonna hurt and sting for a while now, but one day, you'll meet your prince charming, and he'll protect you, and never let you get hurt."

"This boy... he's not the one, not yet."

The conversation ended; her heart a little heavier. If only she could say this to him and maybe, to try her luck, help him forget the girl, even if she can never forget the boy.

She finally mustered the courage to read what she's written, the post that led him to her. But the first three words read "I love him." and in that instance, her courage receded into space. Love scares her.

"She did a silly thing, oh, that silly little bunny. She waited for him and she asked about him. Those butterflies that she'd felt, it shouldn't be real."

There's firmness in her decision that she'd stay away from him before she sinks deeper in.

"Why won't you give yourself a chance, a shot at love again?" Could she?

The effect of this medicine's kicking in and I'm feeling sore and blue all over. Contemplating if I should still go ahead with my drinking session but no, I don't have to. Been a month since. "We're all addicted to something that takes away the pain." Trust me, if I could, I wouldn't. I can't help it. Everything'll be alright. Head home early, attend filming tomorrow. Everybody's happy, life's good. 

Please do wait for my next blog post where there will, finally, be photos available. Thanks for reading.

xoxo

Bunny wreckage.

We had dinner together and I told her that I dreamt of him again.

“I’ve lost count of the number of days I’ve been away from him.”

“Don’t count.”

“But, I have to.”

“Does it make things any easier? Now, what? Do you want to go back to him?”

“No. But… I have to.”

The feeling’s back again. 77 days, and counting.

“We’ll end up together someday, maybe we will.” A smile plays on her face; we both know how ridiculous I sound.

“Do you think he’s met someone new?”

“Probably.”

“I guess so, too.”

Kelly Clarkson’s ‘Breaking Your Own Heart’ plays in the background, and it brought me back to the time I was drinking with the boys and those tears, they fell.

‘How’s he doing now?’ I thought to myself. Is he still hurting himself over that girl?

There’s an important test tomorrow, I shouldn’t be feeling this way.

“You’re such a sad soul.”

“Yes, but I’m happy in real life, and that's all that matters.”

Hide the pain from the world they say; hide it, hide it. Hide it well.  

I’ll continue to be busy, but I’ll blog, no worries. Sometimes too regular, other times, a lack of updates. But I will, oh, I will. At least, this is where I find the real me. 

Her bunny mind and her bunny wild thoughts.

20^th May, 2012, 2:34 am. It’s one week since my last post, I’m really sorry.

21st May, 2012: 16:07pm. Fell asleep at 3 in the morning. Exhaustion got the better of me. 

“She stood, staring at him, with all the strength that she could have mustered. Their eyes met, and her heart, cold as stone, softened a little. He was wearing the shirt of her last memory. She noticed the slightest details in his movements. He left, and she sat still, reminiscing those eyes, bringing her right back to last summer, where she last fell in love. ”

“She’s been going on and on about her deep adoration for her precious locks.

“Look,” they say, “she’ll never bear to snip them off. That Rapunzel of a girl.”

But off they went, and she lost her love.

As the hearts get lonelier, humans get colder.”

“I couldn’t have loved you any lesser,” she says. “I’ll never break the promises to you.”

“Can you be my ballerina?” he asked, “will you stay with me, as my ballerina?”

There was a momentary silence. The boy turned to leave.

“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.”

She’d whispered, but he’s already gone.

In her sleep, the memories returned, flashbacks of what could have been. She has forgotten, hasn't she? 

Why haven't you gotten over it, oh, you pathetic little kitten. 

"I want to live,” he said, “So I have to die."

– Jodi Picoult, Change of Heart

"I like you, I like you, I like you, I like you

But look, they're pretty but I'm...I'm just me. You wouldn't choose me."

And that's the moment when, she decided, she'd keep her silence, for ever. 

“Have you ever thought of it, of marrying? That one day you’d walk down the aisle with someone that’s not him, holding a regret close to your heart, that you’ll never, never forget him.”

And with that, she stared blankly ahead, posed with a question she’s unable to defend herself with.

“That won’t happen, would it?” 

Black hair, Bangs, Really, really short hair now. 

I haven't been updating for a while, I'm really sorry that I don't have the time to. I’m really just looking forward to the holidays and probably the last event that I’m having with my subsidiary committee members. Thanks for reading babyloves, I’ll do it up nicely when I’ve the time to spare. Please have beautiful days ahead. 


Forgive me for using third person narratives in my post. I'm a timid bunny, after all, oh, those snippets of emotions.  

Love you bunnybunny. 

xoxo

Dear Diary (Part 1)

Hi Diary,

I’m drained. Work ended, headed home for a hasty bath, settled down for a quick dinner and group mates asked of me to get on Skype for PR Discussion. Shoving the dishes down the sewers and chucking my trash carelessly, all the while distracted by my demanded physical presence. Thank god, I found time to blog again. I’ve to though, there are deep insights today I’d like to note down. One day when I’ve amnesia, please remind me, somebody, that I do have a blog.

Job’s great, what’s not to like, honestly? There’s Kinokuniya, nice fashion boutiques, a food outlet just next door and staffs who don’t care about sales. It wouldn’t be apt to say that I’m a wordsmith, but I do love books.  I have a great passion for words, poetry, literature prose and practically everything that has to do with “A-Z”. I might be bad at many things: I can’t count, I have an almost zilch sense of eq, I can’t do science; people always assert that I’m nothing but an airhead bimbo.

Every time I enter a bookstore, I wish I could spend my entire life cooped inside with warm coffee and marshmallows dipped in chocolate, reading novel after novel, sieved into the beautiful stories that every capable author comes up with.

I had alone time to myself today, and that calmed me, a lot. I ate lunch alone and window-shopped at Bugis Streets after work, alone. Usually, the entire ‘loneliness’ affair scares me; after all, I’m really just a highly dependent kid. But I managed to, surprisingly, cleared my thoughts about things that I usually couldn’t ‘cause of the ruckus of the people around me. It was an emotional release.

In a jostling crowd with not one familiar face, I experienced the feeling of being ‘lost and to have disappeared’. I know, I’m an enigma and people use the word “mysterious” on me when they’re interested to decipher me as a person. I’ve been tied down by all these worldly demands, sometimes I wonder, for whom am I living for?

“How do you fall in love with someone you can’t feel beautiful with?”

I’m not merely talking about looks; it’s probably something that a little powder and a dash of blush could work magic on. To be beautiful is to feel irreplaceable, to feel in place with the person you envision a future with, to not constantly feel inferior and uptight; you don't have to be constantly afraid that one mistake might catapult into bigger, catastrophic events that will steal him away from you. To be beautiful is to feel loved by the person you love so deeply.

So, how then, do you call it love, when he can’t make you feel beautiful?

“How do you wake up every morning and tell yourself that maybe, this will be the day, you’ll meet into some mishap and lose your memory? How do you open your eyes to a new day, only to wish harm upon yourself?”

The pain in my heart area is back. I haven’t been drinking since, my birthday? Which was 2 weeks ago bitch heart. I can’t help the pressure alright, Please don’t amount to my medical condition ‘cause I really can’t afford to delay any datelines, miss any presentation, and what’s not. Let’s do this together heart.

“She’ll be a better girlfriend than I can. I’m not enough, I’m too broken to be offered to you.”

Typed this post when I’m so tired and sleepy but I’m so afraid I’d forget everything that’s meaningful to me when I awake in a while.  

Please do rain tonight if you love to, sky. 

Busy Woman.

I’ve been really busy of late, and I’ll continue to be. Honestly, it’s a little demoralizing ‘cause I’ve temporarily lost my directions in life: Consulted with the IGP for ntu and nus, and fuck faith, I won’t be able to make it in with my current 3.5 gpa. I’m doing my best now, not knowing where I’m going to be 2 years from now; what I’m going to be, who am I. I’m so jealous of Year 1s and Year 2 students even, those of which have so much time on hand, and not being constantly plagued by project datelines, presentations and assignments.

This is the life of a Year 2 Projects-Based (Media & Communications) student. I’ve to ensure that I meet all datelines required of me so that I’d have a little time to blog about my feelings. I’m so deprived of a life to call my own ‘cause of school commitments, can I not be denied of this tiny piece of my life that belongs to me? Please, and thank you.

I’ve been so tired lately, power naps are inevitable. I fell asleep in class and my friends didn’t wake me up ‘cause “I look so tired and I’m sleeping so soundly. They can’t bear to.” That’s gonna be a first that I really fell into a deep slumber, unaware of my surroundings and happily falling asleep. I’m so tired lately, what even >:

Was I happier 2 years ago? 

Oftentimes, I find that I come home everyday, to a house, not a home. My parents are always too busy for me. My mom’s my best friend, soul sister and biggest protector. My family’s not the kind who expresses our love and concern for one another explicitly, which in a sense, true. I’ve never said “I love you” to anyone in my life.       

I do wish she could spend more time with me - doing simple things like cooking dinner 

( I’ve been eating out for 2 weeks >: ), watching our dramas together, having our breakfasts together. I know it’s immature of me but mom, eating out for 2 weeks makes me feel DEEPLY UNLOVED, really ): Please dote on me more.

This is a cute little snugglebunny I found on tumblr :')

Nobody’s more important than my mommy, and I love her so. (Though I’ll never be able to say that to her in person uh!) Hope she has a wonderful mother’s day this Sunday.

Doing up this post in the wee hours 'cause I'll probably be busy once again, for all the tomorrows. 

"It's funny how sometimes the people you'd take a bullet for, are the ones behind the trigger."