; thinking of you.

Saturday, July 29, 2006

11:34 PM

Nostalgia.
Perhaps, a simple word with complicated feelings. Or so it may seem.
Nostalgia.
Longing for happy used-to-bes.

What, exactly am I longing for?
Memories of past friendships, happiness of naivete, maybe.
Yet, am I not these things now? Am I deprived of friends, family, happiness and love?

These things, things that are swallowed up by a void of emptiness that seemingly can't be filled.
An emptiness that may never be filled.
By anything else, except, perhaps, by Someone.

I try, but I can't seem to let go of this nostalgia that has taken hold. To let go of these memories.
To let go of him.

Or, maybe it's just because I don't want to.

Friday, July 21, 2006

11:06 PM

What was I twelve months ago? Who was I? Where was I?
Twelve months ago, I was Rachel Sim, of Singapore Chinese Girls' School, 6sy, green team. Twelve months ago, I was cramming for the Primary School Leaving Examinations, desperately clutching mandarin textbooks in a futile attempt to learn chinese. I was sad, depressed. I was the bookworm, I was the nerd. I was the O Knowledgeable One, according to Sarah Tan, an honourable title that I failed miserably to live up to. I was the one sneaking books underneath the desk during Maths class, the one perusing magazines for Star Wars photos, the one who lugged thick books to recess and sat reading and stuffing away at the same time. I could speak, an average about ten words a day, on good days. And by good days, I mean days when I held in my hands, a wonderful, wonderful book. I shuffled down corridors, stained my skirt crimson-red, and sat with books piled high beneath my desk.

And then there was New Zealand. An experience that changed the Rachel Sim of 2005, the immature, childishly stupid imbecile, who thought too much of herself and too little of others.

But I didn't just lose my immaturity. I lost everything that was me.

So who am I now?
Now, I am known plainly as the girl who loves English. I am the girl whom people see as cute, not at all introverted, the guitarist, the one who manages to surprise everyone during Speech and Drama, for some unfathomable reason.
Why have I become so? Why do people now call me friendly, nice, vibrant, adorable? What has made me become such a person, someone who cries along during soppy taiwanese dramas, someone who cooes over cute chinese guys, someone who does such retarded, twisted and completely unexpected things (especially during drama)?

Perhaps, I will return one day. The real me, the someone who's sole reason for living is books.
Because I want her back. I don't want to be in this strange, foreign body any longer. I wish I could just wish away all these feelings and turn back into who I once was.

And so, I'm going back to New Zealand. Not just for the beautiful mountains, the placid lakes, the rolling green hills. I'm going back to find me. And I'm not coming home without her.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

9:37 PM

You Are An INFP

The Idealist

You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world.
Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships.
It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close.
But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop.

You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.

What's Your Personality Type?

Hey. This makes me sound so much better than I actually am.

Monday, July 17, 2006

9:26 PM

What You Really Think Of Your Friends

Jessica is your soulmate.

You truly love Charyl.

You consider Rachel Tan your true friend.

You know that Priscilla is always thinking of you.

You'll remember Esther for the rest of your life.

You secretly think Val is creative, charming, and a bit too dramatic at times.

You secretly think that Smily is colorful, impulsive, and a total risk taker.

You secretly think that Bala is loyal and trustworthy to you. And that Bala changes lovers faster than underwear.

You secretly think Joy is shy and nonconfrontational. And that Joy has a hidden internet romance.

What Do You Think of Your Friends?

Jessica as my soulmate?? Hahahaha!

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

10:13 PM

Be composed - be at ease with me ...

Not till the sun excludes you do I exclude you,

Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you

and the leaves to rustle for you, do my

words refuse to glisten and rustle for you.

I wander all night in my vision ...

Bending with open eyes over the shut eyes of sleepers,

Wandering and confused, lost to myself,

ill-assorted, contradictory,

Pausing, gazing, bending and stopping.

-Noah Calhoun

A dream. Perhaps, my greatest wish.

Sadly, it's not an act of altruism, of helping the starving children in Cambodia, of giving to those in need. That is my ambition, yes. But it's not what I'm living for.

What I search for, what I hope for, happens to be much more self-centred. I wish I could be the benevolent one, the one whose dreams would revolve around helping the poor, dedicating a lifetime to poverty-stricken young children. I wish I could be the righteous person, the one who believes in justice and fights for all that stands for it.

But I'm not.

Instead, my dream is simple, yet complex, convoluted. I just wish for that someone to make me happy for lifetimes to come.

The search could be said to be fruitless. Over a billion people on this globe, and yet, I wish to find the single person, that one man who can bring me such joy? Impossible, it seems. Yet the realm of possibility is forever evasive. I could meet him one day, accidentally spilling coffee over his shirt. Perhaps we meet in the lift, me in my sweaty gym gear, him in his school uniform. Or we could sit next to each other in the MRT, sleepy heads lolling over each other's shoulder.

The search is short, it's tedious, it's disappointing. Sometimes I cry, wondering when, if, this person will ever chance upon my miserable life. But then I rejoice again, when I see him, when I think of Someone.

I could search my entire life and not find him.

But somehow, I think I will.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

6:30 PM

Maybe it's writer's block.
Not that I could ever be considered an actual writer, but at the present moment, I am drained of all creative juices and of all forms of inspirations. Writing compositions, movie reviews or essays proves to be excessively, exhaustingly draining. The words don't flow out, they don't trickle down my fingers into the keys of my laptop anymore. Nowadays, I have to wring it all out, and all I can squeeze out are paltry, mediocre words of a ten year old.
I don't know what's happening to me. For once, I find my interest in writing is waning. Maybe I'll stop. It's not like anyone ever reads anything I write anyway.
But I think I know that I can never, willingly stop writing. My best months are November and December, when horrendous school finally stops and when I finally get free days to myself, twenty four hours of sleeping, eating and writing. It helps a lot that I'm going back to New Zealand in December. When I came back from there last year, I finished a whole book.
I can't describe what New Zealand means to me. It's where my imagination flows, where the cogs of my brain start to work again. It could be the wonderful pure air; dewy morning air as I step out onto the chilly balcony. Or the endless roads and plains, long roads that disappear into the horizon, with plains of yellow grass surrounding it. But I think it's the mountains. Whether it's snow-capped, jungle-strewn or completely barren, you can see mountains from anywhere in any city. And as we drive past, on those endless roads, through the foggy, misted windows, I stare through at those mountains, those wonders of earth and rock, things of such beauty that words seem to fail me.

View of some mountains when we took a tiny airplane to go see some waterfalls.

A river that we stopped by on our way to Queenstown.

Queenstown, a beautiful city.

Snow-capped mountains of Mt Cook.

profile.

rachel sim.
seven-oh one-ninety three.
fifteen.
~~scgs.~~
rafflesian!
guitar ensemble!
blogskinner bubblewrap.
loves her guitars.
loves her books.
loves music, both oldies and contemporaries.

loves maroon 5, my chemical romance, coldplay, mcfly, deathcab for cutie, queen, clay aiken, five for fighting, the eagles, elvis.

loves stardust, star wars, lotr, v for vendetta, babel, romeo and juliet, emma, gone with the wind, CRASH, Moulin Rouge, Breakfast at Tiffany's, The Pianist, Back to the Future, Walk the Line, The Departed

loves friends. and chandler bing.

loves david rocco, nigella lawson and JAMIE OLIVER.

links.