Paranoia; An RH. M Production

Monday, January 03, 2011

My rock god is someone who plays Disney Covers On YouTube.

Happy pancake day!

In any case, it's been, what? nearly over a month since i last wrote on this thing.So buttons.Which makes me wonder exactly why dun I ever delete thing stupid blog of thoughts when I got Twitter.

My answer? PROOF! Yes , I still keep this address abr in a foolish attempt to make sure that when I become famous , or achieve my destiny of any kind, there would be evidence of me being human and thusly more believable.One day, some 50 or so fangirls will be hanging on to my musings as I paint my nails with dark green nail polish .

(Yes, I managed to find some yesterday, screw the masses for sticking to their pretty reds and pinks. For that matter, their choice of green sometimes is rather questionable. Really? Lime green?Are you planning to direct traffic with that or trying to prove how hip you are that you can bring new fresh colours? For the record, i chose dark green this time instead of my customary black cause Jamie, aka Sessh, aka Lin Jia Yi for further references should some day he starts to rule the world as a top secret villain of some sort, said that green was a fresh colour and would help in breaking the monotony nicely. Wow, this parantheses rant is so long, I could wallpaper my iPod screen with it.)

This sudden want to record my thoughst have nothing to do with the fact that a certain curly haired brunette who used to cover disney songs on the youtube used to have a journal too. Yes, back in the year 2004 when he was but a teenager in college and I was a lowly 14 year old tripping out a post and thinking that dogs were the best idea for a blogskin, Darren Criss had a live journal account.And its a funny livejournal account. How is it possible that someone can look at a record of thoughts and say, " ahaha, I was so lame back then" and then think about how much of a better place they are in now? Look at me! It's been near 6 years , wait....7 years, I keep forgetting its 2011, and I'm still the same screwed up teenager i was back in 2004. True, I have now had more time to be able to get better and more understanding friends, I still keep in touch with a few choice good old friends, but still, making friends in the year 2011 is the same situation as making friends in the year 2004 aka extremely painful.

Anyway, gonna skip the whole emoing blog thing.

I've been obsessing over Darren Criss for the past 4 months. I believe my friends are getting rather tired of it, and I would , most probably in the year 2050, come back to this address, if the internet still exists and this blog isn't replaced by some sort of super website destined to eat our brains of some sort until we fall to our knees, praying to this false idol and feeding it time.

I would come back and show this to an impressionable young soul, and explain to him the concept of Past Internet, in comparison to the Internet God. And then maybe he'll scroll through it, complaining of its archaic looks and its non moving graphics while wondering why the words were all so tiny. Then he'll read my thoughts , wondering why was the old lady a weirdo even back in the early 21st century. Maybe then he might realise that people , no matter when or where, never change. They just learn to hide it better.

Well, hide it better than 20 year old kids who wear dark green nail polish on their hands, anyway.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Yes, I'm green with Jealousy. But then again, you look positively engorged in Purple Pride. Lose some weight, or choose a better colour.

I'm sorry to say this, but I'm freaking jealous.

I know I'm not supposed to be , but then again, it seems like every one is able to make friends, study hard and then get good boyfriends and girlfriends.

I know, I should subscribe to the whole, " Love yourself first.Greatest love of all "and all that crap. But it seems like everyday I just begin to get more misanthropic about myself and my life. With every ring of the phone comes a period of silence for me. It's like I suddenly got forced into a period of solitary meditation.

It's weird. The point in my life when I should be adjusting to myself and my principles, I suddenly start going through another Identity Crisis . Which is weird. According to what I've read in my psych textbook, I should have gone through that question in my teenage years. Instead, I seemed to be back in that circle again to the beginning stages of teenage angst.

As I am so fond of quoting Freud's Defense Mechanism against Anxiety, I seem to be doing a few of his techniques at the same time. Hm....I have been Projecting, that is, throwing my true feelings and pushing them to others , repressing , Regressing ( the stage which I seem to be at at the moment) , then denial. I'm surprised that I'm still alive after facing all these feelings at the same time. Definitely unlike a certain red head, who was said to have the emotional range of a teaspoon.

I don't know. It's just that after such a long period of time, I'm acting like a childish person again. Wait, my apologies. I was always a childish person.

So why am I jealous again? While I seem to be overthinking every step of the way and being neurotic ( interesting, the definition of this is the propensity to think of bad thoughts) , everyone , on the other hand seem to be well adjusted, happy teenagers, with friends that they can get along with in class, or are so close that they can wear the same t-shirts on the same day. They also seem to be so close that they wait for each other and shit like that.

Me? I hang with a group of people, a group of individuals that, if not for the set of circumstances presented before us, would never have met. We are too different , most of us, and sometimes I feel like we merely hang out to cling to the belief that we were not alone in this world. We don't do the things normal friends do, besides buy and share food.We don't gush. We don't really hang out outside school. And seriously, we are too different to be considered friends.birds of a feather.

Of course, you may say that perhaps I am looking too much at the suferficial level of things, that even deep down , we are all the same. Somehow, I doubt that idea. Until now, the only thing really keeping us together is nonsense.

Speaking of which, I just did an essay about how social networking sites have managed to rewire our brains. Because of the technological advances, all of us have unfortunately developed these problems. We become more narcisstic, posting things about ourselves that we think the world would wish to see, when really it's just an opportunity for us to show off, or grab attention, or get people to take pity on us. What is that, really? Instead of bringing people together, we just seem to be developing our own worldly bubble within the giant social bubble called the internet. We begin to find the need to fulfill our self gratification, so sure are we that we think that like the internet, which can find things in a jifty, life is exactly like that. We become more impatient and more inclined to abandon our ambitions and problems because they are took ardous or taking too long. Why plant a tree in your garden when you can get one fully grown in 1 day, with no risk of pesticides?

I feel the full risk of that everyday, reader. Even as much as I love Trevor, I fear the day he manages to suck me into his world, with the result being that I pay no heed to the world outside. Or again, is this my attempt to lay off participating in this world?

All the same, I still get jealous. Of those out there who seem to have it well enough.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Bimbo moment : OH. EM. GEE.

Like hello, people!!!!

The polar bear is back , after ten years, ( actually 9 months) of not blogging!

So who gives a fuck if I don't update? Instant fuckable shit.

I'm freaking cold!

I know i should be updating my blog cause it's easier for me to rant instant of twitter....but guess what?

CHAMPA IS TOO LAZY TO.

I hear many of you viewers going, " AHAHA!' I KNEW IT~!"

So i guess i will rant here once in two weeks or something. Don't depend on it too much, cause Champa is actually the laziest polar bear she has ever met.

so......fuckles off, people~!

Saturday, February 27, 2010

A poem of despair and less of hope. Helps in the situation when I don't really have any feelings.

Once on a yellow sheet of paper with green lines
He wrote a poem
And he called it “Chops”
Because that was the name of his dog
And that’s what it was about
And his teacher gave him an A
And a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
And read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
Took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
With tiny toe nails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X’s
And he had to ask his father what the X’s meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
He wrote a poem
And he called it “Autumn”
Because that was the name of the season
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
And asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
Because of the new paint
And the kids told him
Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left the butts in the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
The was the year his sister got glasses
With thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed at him
When he asked her to go to Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
His mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
When he cried for him to do it

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
He wrote a poem
And he called it “Innocence: A Question”
Because that was the question about his girl
And that’s what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
And a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
Because he never showed her
That was the year Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
Of the Apostle’s Creed went
And he caught his sister
Making out on the front porch
And his mother and father never kissed
Or even talked
And the girl around the corner
Wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
But he kissed her anyway
Because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
His father snoring soundly

That’s why on the back of a brown paper bag
He tried another poem
And he called it “Absolutely Nothing”
Because that’s what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
And a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
Because this time he didn’t think
He could reach the kitchen

Written by: Dr. Earl Reum

So , this is the perks of reading The Perks Of Being a Wallflower. This poem was featured on the book, and to be frank, reading that, as well as the book, have sort of given me a despairing sort of view.

so, what with me being stuck in this country, I'm dreadfully afraid I am going to turn into either a lump of mosquito food or a bag of meat dumped into the cellar.

with me in such a rut, the pastime have been spent usefully in typing out fanfic, reading, getting music and being an ass to my frens. Not till annoying orange standards, but whatever.

By the way, I have been watching the annoying orange.

Is it too strange when I say that the orange doesn't seem annoying to me? Good lord, I have become one with the annoyance so much so I can't distinguish what is annoying anymore.

Okay, i just had one of those arguments about my future, and my mom is mad at me for bringing everything up again.

I hate stuff like that. ever had those convos where you hate hurting someone , but u have to bring it up? and she gets mad at you?

never have I expected myself to feel so dejected.

I feel so empty
i possibly might have no future.
I might relegate myself to running that bloody shop until i die.
i hate myself.
okay, gotta be positive. be nice. be nice. be nice.

but it sucks to be poor.

Friday, February 26, 2010

As a member of the species, when a guy looks great as a girl, you should feel insulted. Unless it's Prussia.

Even as a GIRL, Prussia is seriously hot. Though he conversation with Germany is hilarious.

and Matthew! Seriously, seriously love you. as a girl, you and your sister are good looking. You're still my fave .....

nyotalia is seriously great. But also gives me a lower self esteem...

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Posts From Posts Past......Alliteration Rules.

30 Things To Do In An Exam When You Know You're Going To Fail It Anyways!
( i found this on facebook, enjoy!)

1. Get a copy of the exam, run out screaming "Andre, Andre, I've got the secret documents!!"

2. Talk the entire way through the exam. Read questions aloud, debate your answers with yourself out loud. If asked to stop, yell out, "I'm SOOO sure that you can hear me thinking." Then start talking about what a jerk the instructor is.

3. Bring a Game Boy. Play with the volume at max level.

4. On the answer sheet find a new, interesting way to refuse to answer every question. For example: I refuse to answer this question on the grounds that it conflicts with my religious beliefs. Be creative.

5. Run into the exam room looking about frantically. Breathe a sigh of relief. Go to the instructor, say "They've found me, I have to leave the country" and run off.

6. 15 min. into the exam, stand up, rip up all the papers into very small pieces, throw them into the air and yell out "Merry Christmas." If you're really daring, ask for another copy of the exam. Say you lost the first one. Repeat this process every 15 min.

7. Come into the exam wearing slippers, a bathrobe, a towel on your head, and nothing else.

8. Come down with a BAD case of Tourette's Syndrome during the exam. Be as vulgar as possible.

9. Bring things to throw at the instructor when s/he's not looking. Blame it on the person nearest to you.

10. As soon as the instructor hands you the exam, eat it.

11. Every 5 min. stand up, collect all your things, move to another seat, continue with the exam.

12. Turn in the exam approx. 30 min. into it. As you walk out, start commenting on how easy it was.

13. Get the exam. 20 min into it, throw your papers down violently, scream out "Fuck this!" and walk out triumphantly.

14. Arrange a protest before the exam starts (ie. Threaten the instructor that whether or not everyone's done, they are all leaving after one hour to go drink.)

15. Show up completely drunk (completely drunk means at some point during the exam, you should start crying for mommy).

16. Comment on how sexy the instructor is looking that day.

17. Come to the exam wearing a black cloak. After about 30 min, put on a white mask and start yelling "I'm here, the phantom of the opera" until they drag you away.

18. If the exam is math/sciences related, make up the longest proofs you could possible think of. Get pi and imaginary numbers into most equations. If it is a written exam, relate everything to your own life story.

19. Try to get people in the room to do a wave.

20. Bring some large, cumbersome, ugly idol. Put it right next to you. Pray to it often. Consider a small sacrifice.

21. During the exam, take apart everything around you. Desks, chairs, anything you can reach.

22. Puke into your exam booklet. Hand it in. Leave.

23. Take 6 packages of rice cakes to the exam. Stuff at least 2 rice cakes into your mouth at once. Chew, then cough. Repeat if necessary.

24. Masturbate.

25. Walk in, get the exam, sit down. About 5 min into it, loudly say to the instructor, "I don't understand ANY of this. I've been to every lecture all semester long! What's the deal? And who the hell are you? Where's the regular guy?"

26. Do the entire exam in another language. If you don't know one, make one up!

27. Bring a black marker. Return the exam with all questions and answers completely blacked out.

28. Every now and then, clap twice rapidly. If the instructor asks why, tell him/her in a very derogatory tone, "the light bulb that goes on above my head when I get an idea is hooked up to a clapper. DUH!"

29. From the moment the exam begins, hum the theme to Jeopardy. Ignore the instructor's requests for you to stop. When they finally get you to leave one way or another, begin whistling the theme to the Bridge on the River Kwai.

30. After you get the exam, call the instructor over, point to any question, ask for the answer. Try to work it out of him/her.

I re-read my old posts and feel as though i've developed as a person from 2005. 5 years going, people. I've been using this address for that long.

And let's celebrate my lonely existence here! ( throws confetti.)

Friday, February 19, 2010

Yo ho, yo ho a Hikkomori life for me....

Ah, Gilbert. Even with glasses, you can be so good looking.....