Blind

I was young
but I wasn’t naïve
I was helpless as you turned around to leave
And still I have the pain I had to carry
A past so deep, that even you could not bury if you tried

After all this time
I never thought we’d be here, I never thought we’d be here
When my love for you is blind
But I couldn’t make you see it, I couldn’t make you see it
That I loved you more than you’ll ever know
And part of me died
when I let you go

I would fall asleep
only in hopes of dreaming
That everything would be like it was before
But nights like this it seems are slowly fleeting
They disappear as reality is crashing through the floor

After all this time
I never thought be we’d here, I never thought we’d be here
When my love for you is blind
But I couldn’t make you see it, I couldn’t make you see it
That I loved you more than you’ll ever know
And part of me died
when I let you go

Blind
Lifehouse

Irrational

Dear lonely isle,

Sometimes we need to know when to let go.
This is me, without tear stains on my cheeks, and without the swollen puffy eyes.
This is me, without my mask, and without a smile.

These days, I find the more it hurts the wider I smile, and the louder I laugh.

You take the pain and put it into a box, then you put the box at the corner of your heart.
It numbs the feeling somewhat. Maybe one day when I do this I really won't feel anything anymore.

Then you cry because its the only thing you can do, and because you wished you could do something more.
Then you pull the covers over your head and sleep it off. Because someone said not to worry about things that you couldn't help.

Waking up is like trying to find your teeth in the dark after having them punched out the night before. You stumble for awhile as you try to figure out who you are, what are you doing, and why the hell can't you open your eyes properly.
When you've gotten down questions one and two, you find the answer for number three.
And while you're still in the interim state of not fully understanding anything, something in your subconscious picks up the box of pain in the corner of your heart and hides it somewhere out of sight.

Some days are too important to leave to the spoilt child running the operation tower.

And against all reason and logic, the day goes well. And you appreciate it that the big guy up there still seems to care.

Perhaps you do get time off for good behaviour.
But not today.

Sometimes we need to know when to let go.
But I usually find out too late.
It's not today. Maybe tomorrow.

love, Joyce.

Firestarter

Dear lonely isle,

Sometimes, when we feel really brave, we take out matches and play with fire.
Maybe we feel like we have something to prove, or just call it folly.

Maybe, sometimes just maybe, you have to ask yourself, do you want to get hurt that badly?

Children who play with matches get burned, children who play with stoves burn down the house.
Children who play with fire crackers lose an arm.

So, if we did want to hurt ourselves, why do we stop at matches?
Might as well take out the building while we're at it, and who needs two arms anyway?

Some people like to cut themselves just to watch themselves bleed.
But they are not to be confused with those who slit their wrists and go have a lie-down in the running tub.

So why?

When you've lighted all the matches in your hand, and are trying very carefully, to not burn your fingers, feeling perhaps a bit invincible, you often find you end up burning your skirt.
Which you then try to put out with your hands, and upon failing to do so, jumped into a pool of mud.
And at the end of the day....really, why did you put yourself through all that?

It hurt, didn't it?

Even when you expected it, it still hurts, somehow.
And like the foolish general in a losing war, you throw your remaining troops against the unstoppable tide of the opposing force, thinking it would somehow, when you got to the bottom of it, in a deep hole somewhere, it would matter.

But does it?

A little chicken once thought it was the end of the world.
But the sky never fell.
Possibly, long after it dies and even when its bones become bleached by the ground, the sky still wouldn't have fallen. Yet.

Sometimes, it feels like everything will somehow always be alright.
When in fact, it isn't alright.
Its only alright, because you've accepted what will be, and that...is alright for you.

Someday, when I die, they will write on my tombstone;

Here lies a person who did things just to be proven wrong,
for rest she could not, be satisfied she could not, till she was proven wrong.

Here she lies, for at last, she felt it was not possible that she was mortal,
and stood in front of a moving bus,
just to be proven wrong.

Incidentally, maybe she played with matches, thinking she couldn't get burned.

love, Joyce.

Yellow Shoes

Dear lonely isle,

This is a story about a girl who lived with her dog Toto on a farm in Kansas belonging to her aunt and her uncle. One day, a tornado came and lifted away the farmhouse, with the girl in it, and blew it to a faraway land. Upon arriving in the aforesaid faraway land, the girl realised that she was no longer in Kansas, when she discovered that the flying farmhouse had indeed landed upon a witch. The witch wore yellow shoes, upon which she took up and put them on.

But wait. Dorothy didn't wear yellow shoes, she had ruby slippers.
But wait. This girl was not Dorothy.

So she followed the advice of the good witch, and travelled along the yellow brick road, hoping to reach the fabled emerald city of Oz, at which, she was told, the all-great powerful wizard could send her home. Along the way, she met three girls, each of whom had also an unexpressed desire to call upon the famous wizard, in need of a brain, a heart and courage.

But wait. Dorothy met the scarecrow, the tin man and the cowardly lion on the way to Oz.
But again, this girl was not Dorothy. She was the girl with the yellow shoes.

So why did each of the three girls require something from the wizard? The first wanted to be rich, and needed a brain to think of how that specific position could be achieved. The second wanted to love someone, and for that, she felt she needed a heart. The third just wanted to be happy, and courage would help her to overcome the sad things in life, and put the sad memories behind her. The girl with the yellow shoes, she only wanted to go home.

So they set off together with the emerald city in sight. For what they wanted, there was no journey too far.

But a wicked witch was determined to not see them succeed. She littered their path with despair and sorrow, and forced them to gaze upon greed and suffering. But still, they preservered. After all, everything they wanted awaits in the emerald city. Scorning her efforts they thwarted her schemes, and she melted into a raging pool of boiling tar.

And so thus, they continued their journey.

Finally alas, the yellow brick road had come to and end, and just beyond the last line of bricks, were the shining, smooth, high walls of the emerald city. High and sheer as steep mountains. The last barrier to breach, the last test to pass, the last challenge to overcome.

And so they scaled the walls.

Awaiting their arrival, long before they had reached the walls, was the great wizard of Oz. He lived in the heart of Oz, preserving the city as a heart preserves the body. Surely, they thought, surely someone such as he has the answers to it all.

And indeed he had.

To the first girl, he said, No.
I cannot give you, what you already have. Your wit, your cunning, they are but what will carry you through life, and keep you alive. If you were but to use them more, they will surely bring wealth to your doorstep.
And she went away, realizing that what she needed was not a brain, but confidence. And his words spoke to her soul.

To the second girl, he said, No.
I cannot give you, what you already possess. Your love for your friends, for the people and things around you, they will form the purpose of your being. If you were but to use them more, they will surely bring passion to your life.
And she went away, like the first girl, realizing she erred in her ways, and lacked not a heart, but a will.

To the third girl, he said, No.
I cannot give you, what you could not possibly contain. The seed of power grows within your heart, and with each step you force yourself to take, you have put a smile on your own face. If you were but to try harder, surely you will find happiness had always been there.
And she too, went away, dawn in her heart that she required courage like she required a third foot, because she had had it all along.

To the girl with the yellow shoes, he said, Never.
I cannot send you back, when you have chosen to come. I cannot stray you from your path when you have set out on this journey, like I could not have sent you back to the past, and to times before. There are oft many times we would like to turn back, but alas, this is not within the powers of men. The most we could do, is to move forward, and maybe in time, forget where we have been. But the wisest never forget, indeed they may choose not to, because, while forward is the way to go, sometimes it is necessary to look back. In time, you may find that the way home, is right up ahead, but only if you keep walking. And sometimes, this is true, because you will make decisions to bring you back to where you came from, from whence your path first diverged.

And the girl with the yellow shoes wept. For she knew she could never go back.
And she wept, for a time lost, an age faded, a memory she could never relive.
And still she wept, as she struggles to lift her feet, with the yellow shoes that seemed to carry the weight of the world, for if she chose to move forward, she would leave everything behind.
And it would be the hardest thing she would have to do.

And still, she weeps.

love, Joyce.

Biotechnology Night 2009

Sunday, 22nd March 2009.

Last dinner for our course!
which of course equals to last chance to dress up >.>
Last dinner for our 3rd year biotechnology students.
A night for just us only :)

Then there's also the last chance to participate in group activities.
Such as dancing,
singing,
acting.

Decided to join the traditional dance, which branched out into modern dance as well.
Tried my hand at singing too,
and emceeing for the first time.

Unfortunately, (or maybe fortunately) I didn't get to emcee, the performance schedule was too packed. Didn't have the time to go and further entertain the audience :(

On the night of the dinner.
Us before it started, wearing the outfit for the traditional dance, Sumazau.

Fansus in black :)

See...what did I always say about black? Black makes you look slim..

Receiving guests in the traditional dance costume.

For the modern dance we all wore formal white shirts with dark coloured ties.
But that one happened to quickly, no time to take a group photo.

With (l to r:) Daniel, Ozzy and Butter who were all in the group singing.

With my pretty supervisor, Dr. Ivy :)

My room mate commented that she looks like Barbie.


With Anny, who was also in the modern dance, wearing a cute pink dress for the night :)

With Bella, who choreographed the Sumazau dance,
previous class representative,
and also former Uduk Ngadau (traditional beauty pageant) winner.

Tiing Jen either wants to:
a. kiss me
b. smell me
or
c. show off the hair that Jia Jia set for her.

I'm guessing c.

After the dancing, it was off to the bathroom to change, not into another costume,
but finally into something nice for the night.

Tiing Jen and Jia Jia

And, yours truly with no dress to wear.
And no time to do her hair.

See how self obsessed I am as I post three pictures of myself alone in a row.

Look abit fat there, but ignore, focus on the face.

With the favourite fansu :)

With Jia Jia :)

Jia Jia and Phebe, who's looking cool in my shades cos her eyes were swollen.
Allegic reaction :(

With Butter who refused to smile for my pictures.

No worries, retaliated by not smiling for his camera.



Lai San and Jaclyn, emcee of the night.

Feminine-looking Tiing Jen.

Never thought this day would come T____T


With Yuen, who choreographed the modern dance.
The guy seriously shakes ass.
And does it better than all of the girls in the dance.

The Vice Chancellor of UMS with his beloved students.
(He's their supervisor for their final year project)

We're privilliged enough that our VC is one of our main biotech course lecturers :)

With Dr. Jualang.

Beloved Datuk K. and his wife, Datin Ann.

With the favourite fansu again, camwhore style

Dr. Ivy and her students :)

We're all under her for our final year project.

Confirmed la, my supervisor is the prettiest XD

The GMO family

They acted as mother (Tiing Jen), father (Lau), and son (Yuen) for the play.

With Hidayah.
The first malay girl in my course I met and made friends with during the orientation week.

With Kak Aliya

With Yati.

With Tasha :)

The Sumazau dance group.
Can you spot the three blind mice?

Warning: camwhore shots ahead. If its not your thing, do not proceed further.

Yes I know its a lazy kind of post. But then again I'm a lazy kind of person :P

Had fun that night :)
Think I actually enjoyed it more than MAGRA.
Somehow its a smaller group, a more personal thing.

My kind of thing :)


Love, Joyce.

MAGRA 2009

As requested by Shima, the pics for my award night; MAGRA

Hi.
Its that time of the year again, where girls put aside time to study to hunt for the right dress, the right shoes, and to search for the right accessories.

Its that time of the year when "So, what are you going to wear?" is asked more often than
"So, have you finished studying for that mid term on (insert date)?"

So.
This was after...2 hours at the hair dresser.
(1 hour of waiting + 1 hour of actual hair being set up)

Front view

Back view

Before setting out

Don't let the calm exteriors fool you. It was one hell of a big rush for me,
rushing from the hair dresser's to back home,
putting on makeup and helping others as well,
while trying to get myself ready too.

(the pic was taken while waiting for two other girls to finish at the hair dresser's)

So.
After a lot of hurried eye shadow was applied,
I hurried, hurried to the bus, glad to make it in time.

As the bus made its way to the first roundabout, I felt a horrid nagging suspicion that I had forgotten something important.

Yes, I forgot my ticket.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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.

But everything worked out, so no worries.

In the toilet at Sutera Harbour

Oh.
Would you believe that my period came a week late on purpose?
And decided to drop in on me on that very day itself.

From this point onwards, any sleepy/tired/dead/frozen-smiles-looking pictures are self-explanatory.

With Phebe

Tiing Jen, Phebe and Ah Boo (no relation to Ck)

(Ah Boo's real name is Boo Sook Yee. Apparently the nickname stuck since first semester.
Lesson learnt: becareful what you let people call you, it tends to stick.)

With Tiing Jen

Why we decided not to use flash for the rest of the night.
(Too many ghostly faces.)

Award presentation went pretty smoothly this year,
and by that I mean that they remembered me.

The above pic was for the first semester of last year.

Compulsory fansu photo.
Very few fansu photos this time :(
Much lesser than I'd like. Not many willing or skillful photographers >.>

The cert for the second semester of last year.
Ditched the scarf. Difficult to walk with >.<

With our lecturer, Dr. Lee, and her boy, Kyle.
He's so adorable.

With Jasmine, she won an award that night.
The amount of titles she's had and the amount of events she was involved in pretty much left the announcer gasping for breath. There was just too many >.<

With Bee Bee :)

With Annie

Spoils of the night:

Some camwhore shots;
Because you don't dress up and not not take pictures.

Its the last time I'm attending the dinner though :(

Dear baby,

So I won't hesitate no more, no more
it cannot wait, I'm sure.

There's no need to complicate, our time is short
this is our fate,

I'm yours.


Love, Joyce.

Lopsided

"..and it rains in your bedroom,
everything is wrong,
it rains when you're here,
it rains when you're gone.."

Dear lonely isle,

Life is unfair.

For all its symmetry, the world is almost positively made to be lopsided.

Everyday, everywhere around us we are constantly reminded of how things always are and how they are likely to remain being.
Some are born with everything, while many are born with almost nothing.
Some are lucky enough to be very aesthetically pleasing, while some aren't quite so well endowed in that area.
Many of us lament at the amazing lack of brain space we're given, even as we envy those with upper regions so vast and knowledgeable its unfathomable.
And the list goes on.
And on.

Every damn day, the world screams at us; life is unfair.
And that's just what it is.
There's not much that can be done about general and universal injustice, but like all things that seem to good to be true, the fine print always reads something like this.

So what do you do when you know that life is unfair?
You suck it up, like horrid dosages of bitter antibiotics you know you have to swallow.
Because, somehow, horridity makes you better in the end.

Except that the bitterness of the unfairness of life is supposed to make you a better person.

Today it rained heavily.
Could barely see the road on the way back.

I miss you.

It's just so unfair.

Love, Joyce.

Heaven in Hell

The solace of morning hills.
Quiet bliss quite unlike anything else I've ever felt.