north-american possums! work fatigue grouses; singaporean; ex-poet and writer; former convent girl; converted, convicted and painfully quiet; bibliophilic; skyscrapers; weather-talk; dining alone on sashimi; your life with Jesus; banging heads with problems; looking from afar; loving my xiongmao; peanuts & anchovies; battlestar galatica; novella dreams and paranoai: holding onto you.

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Tuesday, February 18, 2003

you won't believe and i won't believe it either. yesterday i got so freaking mad with my parents that i had a nosebleed. they came home at 9pm without the porridge and i just lost it. my boyfriend wasn't surprised though. i yelled once, stomped out of the house to the hawker centre, sniffing away. Only when i returned home, i realised it was blood i was sniffing back... i felt much better, with blood on my hands, opening the door, emptying the porridge into a bowl and slamming the door of my room.
hmm. that's about it for now. that was just to whet my appetite to write my ISM journal on poetry. till then ~

I'm terza rima, and I talk and smile. Where others lock their rhymes and thoughts away I let mine out, and chatter all the while. I'm rarely on my own - a wasted day Is any day that's spent without a friend, With nothing much to do or hear or say. I like to be with people, and depend On company for being entertained; Which seems a good solution, in the end. What Poetry Form Are You?

posted by happyhannon at 12:24 PM