examology

I've always had conversations in my head. As far as i know, its a common thing. The battle between the voice of reason and desire etc. Only thing is i just found out that it isnt normal to have about 7 voices at one go.

I grew up with the voices. How was i supossed to know that there were too many Farahs in my head?

Now, they wont go away.

They've found their own little crevices inside my mind, soul and body to manifest their own hopes and dreams. And i have to be objective and fair and let each of them have their own air time. Its the only right thing to do.

I'm not joking by the way.
They are there.
I just thought you guys should know that they exist.

(currently untittled)

I'm playing with candy ideas floating on

a cloud of snow in my mind.

I touch these glittering orbs of genius

and draw them out, honey-coated, sticky

and sweet.

They are glassy, malleable and

i attempt to manipulate them to suit

my whims and fancies.

They then grow long tentacles

reaching out to infinite possibility,

entangling themselves in a mess

like

freshly cokked spaghetti.

Scared, i fling them into the recesses

of my mind to be tugged at on a

later date.

With my pinky, i probe into

a corner of my imagination and find

another

creamy, cushioned, soft idea.

It smells like daffodills and lavenders

baked in the sun.

I squeeze it till it starts to

bleed

butterfilies that cloud my vision.

Distracted, i toss my fury ball of ideas

and then,

chase my rainbow-coloured,

dew-dropped, mango and oriental patterned

butterflies up

up

up

Mount Everest to reach

orange New Mexico

which reeks of diesel,

oil, lust and crime.

I cannot compartmentalise, organize,

label and chart my ideas in straight, pedantic

rows of sux and fours like you want me to.

You say its ideal but its unreal.

Just like my ideas.

Unreal. Imaginative. Infinite. and Wild.

They grow atop cherry trees

and orange bushes and slither

underneath persian rugs,

clinging onto aeroplanes that

swim

in the sea and

dive

into vast, expanssive desserts

only to find more places to explore,

uncontrollably,

unguidedly,

in a

frenzied,

perfect,

mess.

They are not fixed or stable.

They are volatile and excitable.

So please, dont ask me to silence

these peacocks which

fly

and

swim

and

cry

because i cannot silence what i cannot

control

and because caging my ideas

would mean

a sky

empty,

a sound

lost,

a mesage

unwritten

and Me

reduced to

another prototype in this static world of

black and white.

PS: they should have been borken up into stanzas but blogger is being a biatch. Jessica?

Back to Chem,

Much love,

Farah

Why this doesnt need a title.

Self explanatory. no?

Much love,

farah

bytheway: Chem was catastrophic.

you got my baby crying

Unlike the previous post, ive pretty much recovered ( although i was close to tears in starbucks just last night). Its an iffy issue. Either way, the prelims arent bugging as much right now probabaly because morning papers leave the illusion of a lot of time before the next paper. I mean , HEY, ive got at least 17 hours till the next paper. Thats loads of time.

As i said, an iffy issue.

After todays seemingly not so catastrophic physics paper, i decided to treat my self to post exam music ( you want to be starting something.. got to be starting soemthing..), food (LJ's fries) and drink ( bubble tea! ) although i am just getting started with my prelims.

Its all psychology , baby.

All i could hear during my paper was michael jackson playing on repeat in my head. Soon enough, i started my own little party. Just me, my pen and my work. So there i was, on stage - because i have extra time due to medical conditions - boogeying away and with a shimmy to the left and one more to the right, the paper was soon over!

Whoopee.

So of course, i got home took a break and here i am, in the last leg of my break to share with the world - the resident.

The residet. It sounds way too serious and full of pomp - that just doesnt exist. Its the name of a show and its thoroughly informative. im just going to leave one of her fun videos about global warming and americans' (ignorant) take(s) on it.

Enjoy:)




On to chemistry.
Much love,
Farah

cracks

Its the middle of my two week study break and i really can't imagine getting through the next seven days and then braving the following 14 days of papers.


I'm worried sick that i'll screw this up.


I'm tired and sleepy and i'm sick of living on coffee, chocolatte, msg and syrup.
4 hours of sleep just doesnt cut it anymore.


The worst part is having to get up everyday and the first thing i see is the wreck that is my room. Piles of papers, textbooks, notes, files, pens and highlighters.
Having to get up with a perpetual migrane and a frown permanently carved on my face.
Having to convince myself that i CAN do this and will pull through but i am so damn sick and tired of having to talk to myself like this.

I am sick and tired of work. Everything has turned nauseating. Even Shakespare. Now - thats a feat. Even when im taking time off to relax, i end up wallowing in self pity and frustration.

I need a walk. But its late. Ugh.

This post is getting me nowhere.
And Jordan Sparks sound more cliche than convincing. One step at a time. Hah. There isnt any time left.


What have i gotten myself into?!
Of course it doesnt help hearing teachers - two weeks before my prelims, mind you - telling me that the reason im not doing as well as i should be is because i'm in the wrong stream and no matter how much work i put in, i will never get great grades because i should be doing arts.

Gee, great timing woman.

Im tired. I should go complete my physics.
I feel disgustingly fat, teary and tired.




help.

three

Animation and one hellava guy.

Now supporting,
Cuck Fancer.
Much love,
Farah

Toothrot

Dilemma.

BIG dilemma.

So BIG, i'm taking time out to talk about it despite needing to do Othello.

Dilemma : Mint gives me gastric.

Toothpaste tastes minty.

Just brushed. But now i'm hungry.

Solution?

Cheese Sandwhich in bed.

I.dont.care.

But then again, i should care cos my lil' cousin Hannah who refuses to brush before bed just got 4 teeth pulled out at one go cos they were rotting.

Fine. I'll just take a pill to get rid of my gastric.

Drugs always solve everything.

Heyhey the face of Asia (ahem) finally has a page on the global yearbook website. Check. It. Out.

http://www.theglobalyearbook.com/where_is_it_now.html

Much love,

Farah

Old Train

I hope this old train breaks down,

then i could take a walk around.

The term - along with my time as a junior college student is drawing to a close and i find myself (typically) too wrapped up in the present sore (prelims) to be too upset.

In fact, its a much needed break. I need time out to get in to the familiar bubble of work, work, work.

The cogs are in place. I just need a little jab here and a small poke there to get these wheels churning.

The night oil's buring and the midnight man has taken mr sand man captive - much to the dismay of my 'bright eyes'.

Last saturday, i took a bow in front of a beautiful, intimate audience whose infectious energy and thunderous applause reminded me that the decision i made was the right one and that i only gained from keeping to my word and staying in the play. The play deserved an audience. We deserved an audience.

But as the lights dimmed for the final time, i felt the house lights go off in the recesses of my memory. I felt the curtains weigh down in my heart as a chapter closed , shut.

I remained embittered and wallowed in self pity for 20 odd hours and true enough the call that always ( and always will ) reigned supreme strapped me right back onto the seat of fate. I am catapulting in slow motion, free-wheeling and tumbling across acres of lined foolscap and velvet oceans of ink towards freedom.

Today, i was finally sated. Finally happy and satisfied to know that at least you care. And i am so happy you took the first step to ask and talk and rehash before we all go our seperate ways. I was surprised this came from you but then again , in retrospect, you're probably the most sensitive to people's feelings. Dont worry, i understand completely - no hard feelings whatsoever. I dont think i'll ever comprehend this situation but it doesnt bother me too much anymore.

Thank you.

And, finally, the Globalyearbook arrived. Now, i have 72 hours to get things penned, pasted and printed. 72 hours to call the press and get them involved and 72 hours to make my mark in the global community.

Perhaps i should go into communications and be the youngest entrepenuer to start a company solely focused on the development of intercontinental internet liasons.

It already sounds impressive.

Here's to 7 fast terms that skimmed past but managed to create large enough a crater to equate at least 5 years prior.

Here's to a goodbye and a hello again on a whole different stage.

Prelims, here i come.

And see what there is to see,

Time is just a melody.

Much Love,

Farah