Someone speaks softly through the horror and pain:
'Love has gone, but it could come again.'
Spring arrives quietly, warming her skin
Her heart, now red, is beating again
- Hannah Fury, 'Someone Speaks Softly'

Not a writer but a professional student. Instead I can be the jaded passer-by that caught a glimpse of a fling or a fatal mistake, a murder in the back alley, and I keep it all to myself so I don't lose any of it during the spilling from heart to paper on an unimaginary dark night. I write opinions, facts, emotions and other satisfied sentences that are the offspring of my imagination and external influences. And I do not need your validation to live, for the record.

FS/augustkills
FP/thepapercult
LJ/snipethedoctor
WP/electricsleeves

Icon: DW/tablesaw
Layout: tuesdaynight
Inspiration: DayBefore!Misery

It has been nice, this journey to nowhere, but the scene's over and it's time to leave the screen. It'll be raining soon and my parade would be too drenched to continue the show. I don't wish to catch a cold and the bus would be here any minute to pick me up. No you cannot go with me as you live on the other side. There's the borderline between this place and that one. If this was a joke I would have told you it was. I've got mud on my shoes and a sprained ankle; too exhausted to play, too lethargic to follow you any longer. Leave me, or if you would, watch while I'm whisked away by the roaring wheels and spinning lights. Au revoir.

Labels: * prose, prose:scraps, writings

It has been nice, this journey to nowhere, but the scene's over and it's time to leave the screen. It'll be raining soon and my parade would be too drenched to continue the show. I don't wish to catch a cold and the bus would be here any minute to pick me up. No you cannot go with me as you live on the other side. There's the borderline between this place and that one. If this was a joke I would have told you it was. I've got mud on my shoes and a sprained ankle; too exhausted to play, too lethargic to follow you any longer. Leave me, or if you would, watch while I'm whisked away by the roaring wheels and spinning lights. Au revoir.

Labels: * prose, prose:scraps, writings

Charmaine/Emmy: FCPS, RSS, ___. Satire buff. Anglophile, pedagogue, nefarious grammarian-in-training and hedonistic pedant. Dreams of a pathologist office smelling of soap, disinfectant and disease. (Who forgets autopsies?) I'm a student and satisfied with it, and I'm not eligible to be a writer. Writers are sensitive, creative and they think out of the box but I'm more of a structured person. Then again everyone writes so writers are an exclusive category for published geniuses that do not include me. I like the glories of academia, medicine, reading books, dreaming and writing. I'm that sort of person who would rather party than study, whom one would make happier giving a medical journal/national geographic mag issue than, say, a fashion magazine. (I do read fashion mags when they come to me, but they aren't a necessity.) I'm boring/intriguing like that. I am a step to University at the moment and I'm treading carefully in case I slip. I'm uncertain if I'll ever find a husband but that doesn't bother me much. This blog collects all my satisfactory writings.

Notes on writings
I don't usually curse, if at all, but at times for a piece of writing to be plausible certain undesirable elements have to be inserted to add reality to it. We all have seen our share of crude characters and for this, it would just be me writing about one. It's a little like writing about lust; written about, divulged, but never encouraged. To put this plainly: if it carries to reality, it is wrong. But since it isn't technically reality, in my perspective it isn't.
I support pairings and I understand the norm do not. However I see no necessity to apologise for my head.

'You can't cut my heart into sections'
More books, more shelves.
Christianity, which in my perspective hinges less on modern-day hocus-pocus than the immutable truth.
My Chemical Romance.
Pathology.
German tank models.
Sherlock Holmes & Dr. Watson.
Vienna Teng.
Heath Ledger.
The Third Reich.
Bubble Tea.

Wishlist:
National/Victoria JC
Cambridge University
MCR album (2010)
A spiral-bound, shorthand notebook
Grimm's Last Fairytale (Haydn Middleton)
The Asylum For Wayward Victorian Girls (Emilie Autumn)
Young Adolf (Beryl Bainbridge)
Suspended Animation: Six Essays on the Preservation of Bodily Parts (F. Gonzalez-Crussi)
A Not Entirely Benign Procedure: Four Years As A Medical Student (Perri Klass)
Fry and Laurie 4 (Stephen Fry)
Mein Kampf (Adolf Hitler)
Emilie Autumn's The Opheliac Companion CD
Hannah Fury's The Thing That Feels CD

I'm not too fond of alphebetical ordering.

Watson's Woes
Huddy Daily

SCHOOL:
Pearly Ming Xuan Cherie RS choir Marilyn Mdm Haslinda Keen Hoe Arini Sherilyn Peishwen Jasmine Cheryl Si Ying Wei Loke Liting Sarah Shi Mei Michelle Rui Xian sadlydotcom Derrick Joey Cynthia June James Wendy Vinus Shi Yun Yi Hui

COMRADES:
Jacy

JCOC:
Victoria Canida Sean Medalene Kareen