Risk.

It was a dark and stormy night. No, wait, seriously. The rain was pouring like some endless crappy waterfall, and the thunder that came with it wasn't helping either.

I was walking past the store room when I heard a faint rustle. It was barely audible, but I heard it. Instinct sent me cartwheeling into the room next to it. No one should have been at home except for me, and the noise was definitely too loud to have been just a nest of cockroach or lizards.

My phone was not with me, and I was running out of options.

Okay, Anne. Grab the thing nearest to you - which would be your Success Biology book - and slowly, slowly - make your way next to the store room. Check out who the hell's in there, and kick butt if necessary.

I peeked inside the store room and could see nothing except darkness. Was the person in there waiting for me to make a move? Fight or flight, Anne. Move, damn it! So I flipped on the light switch, preparing to see some stranger standing in front of me, but instead -

- what I saw was my Blacky, snuggling on the pile of rags and looking up at me innocently as if to say, "What's up, boss?"

"You!"

And that was all I could say in an exasperated tone. I felt more irritated than relieved. Dragging her out was a pain, and clearing up the mess she left was even worse. I realized that I had carelessly forgotten to lock the door, and that was how she had stealthily snuck in to escape the booming thunder. She hated the rain, and despised the sound of thunder.

Looking back, I wonder what would have happened if it really was a stranger who had bad intentions. Was it correct of me to just barge in there without thinking of the consequences? What if it was a robber who had a knife, or a gun? What if it was more than a person? The store room, in a pitch dark state, was large enough to hide two or three people inside. If it really was someone dangerous that I didn't stand a chance on, then it would have been more prudent to hide in the room until everything was over. What could a Biology book do against a strong man? Certainly not much, unless my foot had good crotch-aim.

But Anne was a proud girl, and a proud girl would never give up without putting up a fight.

Someday, someday - this pride would lead to my downfall. I just know it.

How disgraceful. I knew from the past that I did things in an unorthodox manner, but I only realized just how serious of a problem this could be in the future.

And for God's sake, I had better remember to lock the damn door up next time before cranking up the music volume so loudly until I couldn't even hear my dog make her way across the hallway into the store room.

Fuck, what a lesson that night turned out to be.

And today, I went for extra English Literature class. A few friends and I headed to Kanna for lunch, and I followed them to the bus stop after that. Most of them went home pretty quickly - save for Jian Ching and I who were just lazing around, staring at the passing cars.

And then this lady showed up out of nowhere and began talking to us.

Well, I know just how much of a mean bitch I can be at times, but I'm pretty nice and polite in general. She talked, we responded. In a few minutes, she found out that we were SPM students, and in a few more minutes, the topics were running around deeper stuff like the future, studies, work, interacting with people, et cetera. Now Jian Ching wasn't really responsive, so I took hold of the conversation and decided to be the one to talk to the lady. Hey, don't get me wrong - she wasn't boring. In fact, the things she said were pretty interesting.

Turns out that she has a daughter in Australia, doing some research. There were a lot of life lessons imparted in just a few minutes, but they weren't anything that I haven't heard before. I paid attention, mostly because I had nothing better to do, and it would be rude to be unresponsive anyway.

There was one line in which she mentioned, "My daughter has a PR...and she just didn't feel like coming back."

"I understand," I said, and allowed her to continue rambling. Yes, I said that I understood, because I really did. I knew how tempting it was to just leave Malaysia, and never come back again. I didn't mention anything more to her, though, and just continued giving my input whenever I felt that it was necessary.

Never rely on just one thing, she had said. Be multi-talented. Take any opportunities that you see. She said it wasn't about how hard you worked all the time as well - and she told a tragic story about how her daughter and her first boss didn't get along too well. She said that if you didn't suck up enough and you happened to aggravate the people you work with, that's what happens.

And I had an input for that. "I think that it's important to build connections with others no matter where you go, so that they can back you up whenever you need it."

She was agreeing to that, and I found myself looking back over the short span of my life - wondering what I had achieved then.

If that was human nature, then human nature had already manifested itself throughout high school. All our club politics, strifes and arguments - they were about the very same thing, were they not? Leaders worried about the threat of the ones below them, people fighting for the highest post they can get, people sucking to the higher-ups to get what they want.

Again, I understood. It would have been, perhaps, too arrogant of me to put the things we went through in high school to be compared with the working world, but the issues ARE indeed similar.

I left a short while after that to get back to school, but before that - I shook her hand in a very jovial way and thanked her for the advice. I could tell she was surprised, but hey, as mentioned - I AM generally polite.

Well, to people I first meet anyway.

And here I am, just musing and idly wondering what the future holds - because everything just seemed so risky.

Risk, risk - and more risks. Everything in life is a risk.

Anne is a proud girl, and that will lead to her downfall.

I will take the risk, even if it costs my life.

Yes, this is for real.

"To the edge of the earth,
It's a brave new world."

This is War
- Thirty Seconds to Mars

It has been raining a lot in the past few days. Not that I have anything against it - I mean, it's true that I did wrap myself with a jacket yesterday and sink into some sort of odd nostalgia while sipping a cup of Earl Grey, but that doesn't make me hate the rain.

No, I don't hate the rain.

It just makes me think.

A lot.

Well, an incident interrupted the peaceful, sleepy lull.

There were eight cockroaches in the bathroom, and around five more outside. I basically sank into a moment of wtf and ran like the freaking wind. Normally I wasn't afraid of cockroaches - hell, I butchered without any mercy - but thirteen? Way out of my league. And these little buggers knew how to fly. I had to enlist the help of my maid and my dad. Together, we wiped those bastards out - and the house was at peace once again. That was the first time I saw a genuine urban cockroach fest going on. Incredible, wouldn't you agree?

I sat at my desk today, finishing a letter to be sent out to a far-away friend. I glanced through the contents off-handedly, not bothering to change anything. If I wasn't mistaken, someone had rummaged through my books on Friday and had seen the contents of the half-finished letter. I hadn't made the hypothesis on blind assumption. There were actually obvious signs from the person that screamed, "Hey, I read your letter and I'm pissed at you!" in my face. The discontent was practically radiating off her figure.

The worst thing was, I didn't even feel bad. All I felt was some distant anger that stirred through me, but it gone by the end of the day. I had to remind myself that graduation was in a few weeks time, and parting with unhappy terms wouldn't make life any more interesting than it currently was. I did know, however, that what she did was really rude. I was not the one to be blamed. For one, I would never blame myself for having an opinion, for another, I actually kept the letter under my desk - not throw it around for the whole world to see.

And when your ex wants you back, it means a whole lot of impending drama tagging along. For a few days I could only facepalm. The few girls that hung around me were there to witness it all - the Out-Of-Character moments of Anne. It was the worst feeling ever - not being to shake things off due to the things you once did - due to how you smirked, and twisted.

He wasn't the first, and he wouldn't be the last.

A boyfriend worth the trouble, and one who found me worth the trouble at the same time? Never found that so far. It was always either the first or the latter. What a darn shame. My pride goes on.

Granted, I wasn't the type to put up with it too long. I despised the fact that deep down, there was a kind part that seemed to pity, and empathize. It was ridiculous in a sense that no matter how much I tried to deny it, it was there - and it existed. Unless, perhaps, it was just another facade to trick a useless fool. It didn't matter. I myself had no idea what the hell was going on, and the last thing I wanted to do was relapse in another pointless bout of mind-mashing. To me, the past three years had been enough. Any vestiges of those days were quietly hidden away. No point letting others know.

Another ridiculous thing would be on how humans seemed to dream. Not ambition-type dreams, but literal dreams.

Too many. There have been too many of dreams lately while I slept. Three years ago, I had bad ones almost everyday. I lived, though, and they got rarer when I was sixteen. It most likely had something to do with my attitude, thoughts and negative perceptions. But now? Now they've returned on a full-scale. Night after night. Surreality over surreality. It'd be nice if, y'know, dreams could have been a little more creative. It gets annoying watching horror BS every night. It'd be nice to be able to control my dreams, or work out just how to avoid the whole bizarre crap. A little search tells me that I apparently suck in handling my problems, big time. Right. As if I hadn't known that already. Screw this shit, I have a midnight snack to eat, and my stories aren't just going to magically write themselves.

Really, though, there's no limit to creativity - and imagination. On one hand, while I find this whole issue bitchy as can be, it just makes me want to revel in the blood a little more to see what goes on further than that.

Before this post either drives you up the wall or makes you wonder whether I'm still in the right mind, I should probably talk about something cheerful. The cheerful thing would be that there would be a one-week Deepavali break, and well, if that isn't good news, then basically nothing is. The feeling of sleeping late and waking up at noon with headaches appeals so, so much. Chocolates, snacks - bring in all the food. My stomach craves like a damn female.

Bring on the frickin' food so that the frickin' heartless writer in me can bitch on about more shit in life. That's how it goes. My fill of entertainment never ceases.

Till then, my jolly friends, enjoy the insanity of life.

If you threw an aeroplane in the sky, how far would it soar before it fell back onto the ground? There are always limits to the things we humans can do, whether it's to achieve a dream, protect someone, or to approach the sky.

There's something that we humans aren't limited to, though.

It's our imagination.

And the trials are over.

I'm musing over the results I've obtained. On one hand, I'm smirking because even though I sat through the exams on knocked-out mode, I've still managed to secure the bare minimum of what was necessary. On the other hand, I'm rolling my eyes because had I not been on knocked-out mode, I would have been to achieve much, much more.

Math - 75
Add Math - 37 (Okay, this one could have been better. Seriously.)
English - 90
Malay - 70
Chinese - 56
Biology - 76
Chemistry - 58
Physics - 67
Moral - 78
History - 80
Art - 81
English Literature - 88 (I'm relieved, but there's always room for improvement.)

Let's see. SPM is in another... [checks Facebook for Benjamin's reference] thirty-four days. Should I be worried?

Well, should I?

Strangely, I'm not.

Ever since the insomnia-anxiety-attack-that-spanned-throughout-trial-exams-incident occurred, I've been feeling very relaxed. Something like a mini knot within myself has been unknitted, leaving me behind calm and more or less rational.

'Happy' is not the word. 'Apathetic' is.

Graduation is apparently on the way. People around me are doing all sorts of things - checking out tertiary education options, visiting colleges, filling in forms, getting reference letters done - everyone's in a flurry of excitement, but they still feel the nostalgia.

Nostalgia? What?

Some seniors told me that I would really miss CHS, and the times there. I don't recall having too many joyful memories, and I really doubt I'd miss CHS. If I still don't miss it even by next year, I'm going to shove that fact to their face and prove them wrong. I'll prove to them that I'll enjoy my pre-u days, I'll prove to them that the future can be a damn good thing.

I have a future. A future, a dream, and two fine legs to walk on for it. What's stopping me? Only the hurtful memories, of course, and all the difficulty that will somehow spring itself on me next time. I'm human. There's bound to be many times where I will go against my personal philosophy rules, but I'm only human. A human bound by rules. A human who, like many other humans, will never find out anything about the genuine truth behind the secrets of the world. A human who's just a tiny speck of star against the vast universe.

I want to have a life with all the experiences mixed in it, I want to travel around the world and see places I've never seen before. I want to meet people, I want to learn new cultures - I want to live and experience - everything.

Just how greedy am I, anyway? Someday this greediness will come back and swallow me whole. My pride has already backfired on me many times. When will I ever learn to cast away my doubts?

By the way, Saphira -

There's actually a lot of things I want to say to you, actually. There's a lot I want to throw onto you, there's a lot of things I want to ask you, and there's a lot that I should (and am) be angry about. Well, guess what? I won't do that. I don't want to, either - because I know that many people would want to do the same to me, too, and what right do I have to justify the wrongs of people, when I can't even justify the wrongdoings of myself?

We've known each other for quite a few years already. I'm sure you know how ugly my personality can be when it comes to it.

Still, there's only one exact sentence I have for you, and that is -

I don't blame you.

You, too, have a future to grasp. A bright future. A wonderful boyfriend. Decent friends. A place to be at. Go for your dreams, and someday - some many years in the future, we'll talk about this current moment, and how we have changed.

For now?

I don't wanna go school laa. And I have my stories to update laa. Yadda, yadda.

Let's go. The future's awaitin'.

A man that exceeded the limits that set for himself, a man who brought a revolutionary change to technology, a man who fought for his dreams despite the setbacks, a man who developed and inspired others.

Steve Jobs,

You were one hell of a man.

Rest in peace.

*For therapeutic purposes only.

Realization hits. I haven't bothered updating for around a month or so, and being here again feels awkward all of a sudden. It's as if my fingers are poised over the keyboard, prepared to whip out a month of updates - and yet, I have no idea where to start.

Where do I begin - would it be from the beginning, or the ending?

Perhaps it is because that I haven't been writing that I've been feeling so off. Combine that with a truckload of incidents, a bulk of unwanted stress, and a girl that isn't that great in dealing with things (even though she claims she's fantastic as can be) - and - there you go, it's Calamity.

With a capital C.

Honestly, do I have any right to complain?

It started out with the severe insomnia. My sleep cycle had always been a bit rampant, but as the examinations approached, they entered into a state of turmoil.

Severe. Insomnia. With. Traits. Of. Depression. Which. Caused. Anxiety. And. Panic. Attacks.

Well, that was what the doctor said.

It wasn't exactly a picnic, and I felt worse for the wear. It was then when I realized the true importance of sleep, and that I've been hurting my body for many, many years by getting only a mere three to four hours of sleep per day, even in the holidays. And then when the insomnia struck and I could get no sleep at all, the outcome was simple.

I shut down.

Not severely, thank goodness, but I was pretty damn close to that. My mind did, though - and some parts of my physical self as well. Due to the lack of sleep, other conditions like my scoliosis suddenly also just seemed to manifest its normally-well-hidden-pain within. My eyes were strained - not the sort of straining after twenty hours of computer, but the sort where you know that if your eye pressure raises a little too much and oops, you're going to go blind. That sort of strain.

I felt like I was thrown back to my Form Two days where I was more than just a little loopy. Thoughts that I have never had for a long time sprang to life, threatening to choke me in its darkness once again. I couldn't seem to breathe and my heart seemed to be constricting against itself.

It was the anxiety attacks, and I was definitely not a happy patient.

There were still the examinations day after day, and yet I did not even have the energy to even cuss or swear in such a way that would have made my brother proud. I couldn't seem to get a firm grasp of reality, and everything was just swimming in darkness while I continued on with my perverse little nest of horrifying thoughts.

One of the worst things was that I had absolutely no idea how to help myself, or what caused it, or how long it was going to last. I only knew that I was alone, and I had to face it the best I could.

I refused to take sleeping tablets for fear of addiction. That would be the last thing I wanted, so I opted for tranquilizer pills instead. They don't cause enough harm, there would be barely any side effects. Granted, it wasn't a sleeping pill, but it had anti-depressant effects and would depress my central nervous system enough to calm me down.

I was skeptical of how that little white offending pill would help. The doctor recommended half a pill.

I took twice the amount than I should have.

Did it work? Oh, yes. Perhaps a little too well. Suddenly the night seemed so relaxing, the chirping of the crickets seemed comforting, and it was like being drunk on a certain friend's party in 2009 all over again.

Things improved after that.

No more pills - for now. I have a few more of them stashed somewhere in my bedroom, and I'll use it again whenever a crisis shows up. I really must work out what it is. It's definitely not Prozac, though.

What shocked me to the core was how alone I was throughout the entire process. In actual fact, I knew that most friendships I had with people nowadays were minimum to non-existent. However, this time, even the ones who I thought were close to me turned their backs on me as well.

Let me rephrase. They did not stare at me like some vile creature from the depths of hell. That'd be rude, and I'd hacked their whatevs off before they had a chance to protest.

No, no. They ignored me as if I never existed.

It wasn't a major fear of mine, and I knew something like that could always happen - and yet when it really does, it's still quite a tight slap on the face. It didn't take me too long to figure out why. These people - they are the type who are unable to deal. They see someone having problems, and they refuse to get involved - not wanting to get caught up, perhaps, or just too lazy to give a batshit.

They are unable to deal, therefore they ignore.

Ignorance.

Bliss.

Ultimatum.

The oddest thing was that the ones who came up to me with words of encouragement and promises to listen were the...most unlikely people. There were also mostly friends I had from all over the world, people that I did not have a chance to see often. Singaporeans. United Kingdom dwellers. A friend/parental figure from the States. A close friend from Kajang whom I've known for years but have never really met.

It made me wonder what kind of a person I was to be surviving in such a dazed state, and yet not caring about anything else at the same time.

I wanted to talk to them. Oh, trust me, I really wanted to - but in the end, pride somehow won over, as usual. Well, that wouldn't be anything new. I didn't want them to look at me as if I was a mistake. I didn't want them to see me in such a sorry state. I didn't want them to treat me any differently.

Most importantly, I had no idea how to talk to them. The mere thought of spilling my guts to them was horrifying. It felt like a life and death issue. I didn't know how to tell them anything. It infuriates me. I can type endlessly into an empty space of a blog, and yet when it comes to dealing with individuals, I simply want to run and hide.

I wonder how am I to deal with all of this alone when there's so much doubt inside me.

Calamity, with the capital C. In the end I'm just running away again. All these years, and perhaps I've learnt nothing much after all. Life will go on, of course. People will come and go. Days will pass by. Things will end up changing with the passing of the season. People will wave at me as I leave, with a smile on their faces. And on mine. Still, does it matter?

I'm still afraid of the dark.

Perhaps I always will be.

090811 - Bulan Penghayatan Kemerdekaan Performance - The Most Memorable Birthday Ever.

Seventeen? Life is only beginning.

Chin Vern. He was booed for playing the part of Najib. I, on the other hand, find him a very nice person to get along with.
Oh hola, our personal sultan - also crowned 5S1's best sleeper.

The eleven of us in our traditional dance gear.

Yu Sheng and I.
Benjamin shoots. Band major You Zhi defends. Anne being a bad actress.

Hor Kong looking good in his traditional Malay costume.

Lionel, Wee Kee and I.

"Everybody is kungfu fightin'." Moreoverly known as - pahlawan-pahlawan Melaka. Gagah? Not so much.

The ones under Mr. Michael for the Portuguese segment were mostly from 5S1, save a few juniors who were all interesting and decent people to get along with.

Well, he demanded a group photo with us, so...

Bih Fang.

Jia Xin.
Jian Ching KO-ed in class.

Zi Shan.

I swear, my face froze. I'm just not suitable for pouting in a sexy manner - too used to running along the corridors of the computer lab, hurling swear words while swinging a bunch of keys like a lasso.

Co-ry, Co-ry. He has been a Facebook friend all this while. I noticed him staring during rehearsals and only realized that it was him when he contacted me on Facebook after that!

Darren.
Jian Ching - belum KO-ed version.

The Sultan's songkok.

Ming Hui.

If he was a Sultan, he'd be one of the coolest ones ever.

Victor and I. We actually match due to the red. He's Romeo Rodeo, and I'm Juliet Rider.


Us dancing girls in our modern garb, ready to smash the stage - or to murder people with our, you know, eccentric actions.

Jia Vei.

Basically, if anyone had asked me to perform a Portuguese and a modern dance two years ago, I would have given him or her the middle finger. Obviously that would no longer be the case now - in fact, those closer to me would realize how much I have changed over the years. This would be an obvious proof, I guess.

It was a tough week. I spent hours editing clips for the song (the girls kept changing their mind), used up at least five CDs, lugged a radio to school almost everyday in a big travelling bag and had people questioning me about my motives (a few thought I was heading off to the highlands). I have also been lectured by a Mr. Someone (being the leader of the group is hard - people tend to find ya' to blame) for allowing the girls to practice while Negaraku was being sung, been pointed an accusing finger at by a teacher, and been trying to arrange practices as often as I could.

Still, I have many to thank. Julia, for one, was the one who taught us most of the dance moves. Without her we'd be goners. Many thanks to Sean, too, for recording the entire segment down. And those who brightened up my day by singing the birthday song, those who gave presents - thank you so much. How do I put this? Appreciation really goes a long way.

In actual reality, our dance wasn't that long. Two minutes, at most. It was the preparation that took a long time - not to mention the fact that we only had a week to do it. I blame it on the teacher who entrusted us with the task at such a last minute. The transition period between the traditional and the modern dance took practice as well. We had to strip our skirts quickly to reveal the black pants underneath. The makeup part was even more torturous. I sweated the concealer and the foundation off my face in just an hour or so - and the eyeliner itched.

However, the boys did a brilliant job. The Sultan was great, and so were the ones who did the Silat. Char kuey teow segment was hilarious. Benjamin did a fantastic voice job too.

5S1's video segment -

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJPsd_1CeK0&feature=channel_video_title

It was - certainly - a day of high school - a birthday - that I would never forget.

For now, I have to focus on my trials.

Till then, adieu.

Missions :

• Blast the stage away (or put them to sleep) on next Tuesday's kemerdekaan performance. Traditional plus modern dancing - easy to watch, hard to learn.


• Prepare the attire for said mission above. Long skirt, white blouse, black pants, and shoes. Self reminder : Do not trash the skirt even as it's ripped off after the traditional dance.


• Finish the thousand word article for Editorial Board.


• Finish the four essays (!?) for English Literature.


• Do my best for tomorrow's spelling bee competition. It's for fun, sure, but I still have to put in some effort.


• Complete all the stray pieces of homework. That includes Add Math.


• DO MORE OF THOSE ADD MATH WORKBOOKS LAH DEI, TOILET PAPER MEH.


• Memorize Mr. Michael's sentences.


• Study.


• Study.


• Study more.


• Study Biology, Chemistry, Physics and History. Fuu.


• Pay attention in class - which can be directly translated to "STOP SLEEPING IN CLASS, BITCH."


• Not urgent, but still necessary - update all fanfictions. All. Six. Of. Them.


• Stop getting upset over stupid memories or challenges in life. Accept them with stride, Anne. Geez, how many years passed and you're still such a whiny crybaby. How the hell are you going to survive in the outside world anyway?


• Head over to the NZ Education Fair this Sunday with mum. Ask all my questions, and start preparing applications.


• Focus more on my two extra subjects - namely Art and English Literature.


• Continue being a mystery to everyone that tries to approach me.


• Break all distractive contacts that annoy me too much - that includes certain people on Fb, MSN, and in real life. This is actually quite a priority as they give me too much murderous thoughts, which isn't all that healthy.

My upcoming birthday? Why, should I even care about that?

Sien liao la.

I know writing isn't supposed to be my top priority in life, not when trials are heading over my way - but I can't help it. I have to write. Regardless of whether it's Fanfiction (Six stories in progress and counting) or in the fiction that I created myself (Using Carl Jung's theories really gave me the necessary inspiration) - I just have to let the words out.

Really, it'd be nice if I wasn't in one of my moods.

Yeah, I'm having one of those days. One of the days when my juniors are just getting themselves into a ready-to-be-yelled-by-Anne situation; everybody being more sarcastic than usual; nobody getting along in the family; and people rambling to you when you simply do not wish to be disturbed...

And, oh, I couldn't write my stories today because I just simply couldn't. That's probably what pissed me off the most - wanting to write but being unable to. Fuuu.

Anyway, they say that writing prompts would help kick the poetic mood in. All right, fine. It's almost twelve, my American Ginseng tea is by my side, and there's music in my ears.

Typical. Five, for now. Let's go.

1. Warmth
   Summer was here, and its warmth felt pleasant on her bare skin. She laughed as she danced in the colors of the rainbow; admiring how the roses bloomed and contrasted amidst the rolling green fields.
   
   She couldn't seem to get enough of this delicious feeling, and oh, how she hoped winter would never come.
   



2. Shadows
   He feared them.
   
   He feared their malicious smiles, their sinister intentions. They were the shadows that lurked in every corner, and they were deadly.
   
   Night after night he would tremble like a broken child, desperately wishing for the light.
   
   


3. Kingdom
   The war was not supposed to happen.
   
   He dismounted from the mare and gazed forlornly at the remains of his kingdom, the weight of the golden crown on his head too heavy to bear.
   



4. Options
   The spell was forbidden for a reason. Though powerful, it would claim the life of the spellcaster, resulting in an irreversible death.
   
   Time was running out.
   
   He tried to weigh his options, only to realize that there were none. The answer was clear.
   
   Life was truly a one-way axis that everyone had to follow.




5. Wheelchair
   She stared stonily ahead, fingers gripping the cold steel on both sides; cursing the ones who had ruined her life by causing the accident, resulting in the two stubs that were a mere reminder of the tanned, slender legs that she once owned.
   
   She thanked the stranger who pushed her wheelchair into the train, realizing that she'd have to learn how to use it soon.