profile
the girl next door


aishani. keisha. nat.
a: is cute, but alot more. period. n: the sexy schizophrenic ringleader k: a pikachu like no other

“When I’m good, I’m very good, but when I’m bad, I’m better.” — Mae West.
underline italic bold
tagboard
scream out loud

you're on your way

bulletproof weeks
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
"the gap between compassion and surrender, where love's deepest and darkest region lay"
the museum of innocence.


(back to the top.)


we dance around in a ring and suppose,
while the secret sits in the middle knows


(back to the top.)


edgar allan poe

Alone

        From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.


(back to the top.)


you can't be wise and in love at the same time
Monday, June 28, 2010
first day of schoool! yeah. not exciting.

because its just so wtsmlj todays a bad day to be human! (KEISHA WHY DID YOU REMIND ME ABOUT HOMEWORK WLAU)

HAHAH I HONESTLY CAN'T BELIEVE I FOUND THIS IN THE EHTOS BOOK.

if you lie face to sky
stare into space and far
surpass senses' reach, you
forget who and whether you are


(back to the top.)


Arent you talking about the math teacher?
Homework due:
- Lit: Photostory project on patriotism, + completion of workshop worksheets.
- History: Submission of proposal for Self-Initiated-Assesment + Holiday worksheet
- Social Studies: SEQ on conflicts in Sri Lanka
- English: Marakech presentation on changing unhealthy mindsets + reading journal + writing journal + synonyms list
- Chinese: Annotation of essays
- Biology: Completion of selected ten-year series questions

Status: Completely undone!
Due Date: Very Unsure.
Conclusion: Why did the holidays end:(


(back to the top.)


elizabeth b. browning.
you're somewhere in between a dream and a miracle.


(back to the top.)


curve of the earth
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Before I can open my all too eager eyes
Everything changes from the oceans to the skies
Perpetual emotion set ablaze by me
Everything's breathing, my hair and olive tree



I remember honey lips and words so true
I remember nonstop earthquake dreams of you
You're coming on fast like good dreams do
All night long



So what happened to bulletproof weeks in your arms
What happened to feeling cheap radio songs
What happened to thinking the world was flat
What happened to that


because the best songs are poetry married with harmonics.


(back to the top.)


shakespeare in love
Saturday, June 26, 2010
viola: this is not life, will. this is a stolen season.

wessex: how is this to end?
will: as stories when love is denied. with tears and a journey.


(back to the top.)


indian
Friday, June 25, 2010
I could've sworn I was telling the truth when I told you I didn't miss you.


(back to the top.)


slow dancing in a burning room
Nothing was going to be ordinary again, and both of them knew it. You could patch up whatever was broken, but if you were the one who had fixed it, you’d always know in your heart where the fault lines lay.


(back to the top.)


guilty already
I Am Not Yours
by Sara Teasdale

I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.


NEW SKIN YAY.

guide to figuring out posts
rants/emo/awesome self-written poetry: aishani
pandas/obama/narratives: keisha
copied poems/quotes: nat


(back to the top.)


for literature homework awaits
help! can someone teach me how to write a poem on patrotism:(


(back to the top.)


:P
Dear Sarah Wong,

We will not specifically or directly reveal identities when posting. Subtle references might be made however. Thank you.

On behalf of,
Halfmanhalfbiscuit blogging committee


(back to the top.)


Aishani Sen is going mad. (:
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Darn right keisha, I think no one understands our blog.
BUT I LOVE IT ALL THE SAME! :D

It is 9.25pm.
I am sensing a compulsive urge to go right down to MG, and run on the track and never ever stop.

Tomorrow morning would do as well, if only I could.

These infinite desires that taunt me? They make me want to dance in circles and laugh out loud.
But they also make me want to jump off the cutting edge of reality which cuts me so very often.
hehe XD.


(back to the top.)


Way too many question marks.
Ever wondered why everyone loves perfect fairytale endings so much?
Why we keep telling ourselves the sun will rise tomorrow, and fall asleep to the sound of promises?
Why we never say the words "I hate you" out loud, but say "I love you" so very often?
Or why looking at the clear skies that hold the stars
make me want to smile just thinking about the past?

Ever wondered why we keep on running telling ourself it'll be worth it,
even though we dont know what the finish line looks like?


(back to the top.)


gift
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
All I want is another day longer
Another wildfire, another sweet whisper
All I want is to hear the same laughter
To look at the grass and feel the wind


(back to the top.)


stay
Sunday, June 20, 2010
The sky seemed like an endless blanket, like those one hid under as a child. Sprawling, it seemed like it had no end, no start- it only had a centre, and that was where we lay. At the centre of the earth, soft damp soil somehow found its way into the mess that is my hair. And like two magnificent ships meeting bow to bow, the grass lay in front of the sky, with us splayed on it like forgotten stars from the night before.

And with the tilt of the chin, I could see only blue and white. Clouds rode atop the sharp tangy blue sky, like foam frothing off the top of waves. The clouds seemed so faint and ethereal; it was almost invisible against the palm of my hand. At that moment, I swore you could touch it if you reached out your fingers just that much further. There was a faint wind; faint enough to remind me that we were still on the solid, sturdy ground. It kissed my cheek, and then it left.

And so we lay, inanimate and feeling. The grass covered the ground beneath, softening the blow of the reminder that we were still on land. The land shackled us there, a reminder of things to come, of work to do, and of summer’s end.

But for one moment, the minutes had no hours, the day had no night and the summer saw no autumn.

We were infinite.


(back to the top.)


Saturday, June 19, 2010
'Words, Wide Night', Carol Ann Duffy

Somewhere on the other side of this wide night
and the distance between us, I am thinking of you.
The room is turning slowly away from the moon.

This is pleasurable. Or shall I cross that out and say
it is sad? In one of the tenses I singing
an impossible song of desire that you cannot hear.

La lala la. See? I close my eyes and imagine the dark hills I would have to cross
to reach you. For I am in love with you

and this is what it is like or what it is like in words.


(back to the top.)


errr guys... i think we may all need theraphy

aishani: "you know, i keep having these dreams of weejian flying"

nathalie: (turns arounds and stares) "is someone calling me and saying i love you"

keisha:" i swear that our school was turned into gaza strip war zone and a guy in a turban was chasing us with bombs"

Schizophrenia (pronounced /ˌskɪtsɵˈfrɛniə/ or /ˌskɪtsɵˈfriːniə/) is a mental disorder characterized by abnormalities in the perception or expression of reality. It most commonly manifests as auditory hallucinations, paranoid or bizarre delusions, or disorganized speech and thinking with significant social or occupational dysfunction. Onset of symptoms typically occurs in young adulthood,[1] with around 0.4–0.6%[2][3] of the population affected. Diagnosis is based on the patient's self-reported experiences and observed behavior. No laboratory test for schizophrenia currently exists.[4]




(back to the top.)


bright star
i almost wish we were butterflies and could live but three summer days.
three such days with you i could fill with more delight than fifty common
years.


(back to the top.)


give in
"The Primer
by Christina Davis


She said, I love you.

He said, Nothing.

(As if there were just one
of each word and the one
who used it, used it up).

In the history of language
the first obscenity was silence."

To Dorothy
by Marvin Bell


You are not beautiful, exactly.
You are beautiful, inexactly.
You let a weed grow by the mulberry
and a mulberry grow by the house.
So close, in the personal quiet
of a windy night, it brushes the wall
and sweeps away the day till we sleep.

A child said it, and it seemed true:
"Things that are lost are all equal."
But it isn't true. If I lost you,
the air wouldn't move, nor the tree grow.
Someone would pull the weed, my flower.
The quiet wouldn't be yours. If I lost you,
I'd have to ask the grass to let me sleep.

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why (Sonnet XLIII)
by Edna St. Vincent Millay


What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.


(back to the top.)


Friday, June 18, 2010
"Here’s one of the things I learned that morning: if you cross a line and nothing happens, the line loses meaning. It’s like that old riddle about a tree falling in a forest, and whether it makes a sound if there’s no one around to hear it.

You keep drawing a line farther and farther away, crossing it every time. That’s how people end up stepping off the edge of the earth. You’d be surprised at how easy it is to bust out of orbit, to spin out to a place where no one can touch you. To lose yourself—to get lost.

Or maybe you wouldn’t be surprised. Maybe some of you already know."


(back to the top.)


overdue message
Thursday, June 17, 2010
It was clichéd, repeated, lacked every ounce of originality. But sitting on that swing and enjoying those laughs bared everything that we could call special. It might have been the green parrot, or the stolen time spent immersed in the arcade game, but it led to an epiphany of sorts – the dear reminder that I really miss and love you both.

Carol your stubborn wardrobe that denies every form of change, the sturdy adorable furniture that replicates you in so many ways, having the tolerance to bear with my spoiled ways (mostly pertaining to the heat and humidity of course), the child like ways of chiding romance scenes of slightest intimacy, or maybe just your sidelined grin that’s so incredibly nostalgic.

Aishani the condensed form of cuteness stored, your romanticized fantasies of the faraway future, your sincerity to genuinely help anyone you see, the unlucky endeavors with a picky parrot, the impression(ed) presence that’s impossible to forget, the touching ability to remember our different likes and fancies, the wealth of happiness and spontaneity that abounds and brings.

Schools reopening, luggage moving, surroundings changing. But to me, this friendship stays the same.

-(almond rocks socks) isn't it such an adorable British colloquialism


(back to the top.)


Wednesday, June 16, 2010
You were better to the ones that were worse for you. And worse to the one that
was better for you.


why the wtsmlj is this so apt!


(back to the top.)


I want whats yours and I want whats mine
I want you but I'm not giving in this time


(back to the top.)


im glad you told
Thursday, June 10, 2010
The sunset fell
windows broke
the bright blue image withered off.

Im lying when i said that i expected it all, that it isn't a surprised and that im not the least bit shocked. For i too wanted to believe to just this once, that things would be good and alright. I never knew why you constantly throw yourself there, engulf yourself in crowds and pleasures straying from the natural nature. When jaded and cynical perspectives arose, how hard it was to fight that down, but how little did you really know. We were always worried and scared fearing your familiar unknown, and perhaps we didnt try hard enough, finding a way that you would recognise. So appoligies if this came late:

smile tho your heart is aching,
smile even tho its breaking,
when there are clouds in the sky you'll get by
if you smile thru ur pain and sorrow,
smile and there may be tomorrow
you'll see the sun come shining thru
for you

We never just wanted your talent, arguments or rebuttals. We couldn't care less if those trophies dissappeared. We only ever wanted you to be happy. The self inflicting pain, why do you allow it? The countless tears, why do you approve it? The unhappy days, why do you accept it?

if theres just one thing that we all want to say. please remember to love yourself more each and every day.


(back to the top.)


hello
Saturday, June 5, 2010
you make me want to write bad poetry, sing loudly in a dark cold room, paint a picture using lipstick, get a new short black dress, run twenty miles in the rain, play hot and cold, go for a long bus ride across the road, re-watch all the bad romantic comedies, date three guys all at once for the heck of it, eat icecream, feel infinite. you make me want to scream.


(back to the top.)