Pitter patter

Oh, It's not fair and it's really not okay,

It's really not okay, it's really not okay,

Oh, you're supposed to care

But all you do is take, yeah, all you do is take.

an excerpt from Lily Allen's 'It's Not Fair'.

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind,
For me it happens all the time.

an excerpt from Lady Antebellum's 'Need You Now'.

Rainy days.

As friends in their youth, Mrs Anette and Lady Regina remained so even in their later days. They promised to keep their friendship afire and vibrant, and to never let go of all those memories they had together; Anette riding off with Regina's pony, them both getting lost while returning home from the palace ball and being caught by the local sheriff.

Even as Lady Regina moved away to distant lands, foreign to both of them, they parted with promises and tears. Upon the separation, duties remained. Anette bustled about her work and delegations.

Regina, however had not much in her hands. Having said this, she had much time to send telegrams and letters, but not for Anette. Her work yoked her, but it did not dismiss her desire to keep her promise. And so she did, with letter after letter, as Regina demanded.

As the days passed by, Regina's work load had fabricated on her lap. She too had began to feel the weight on Anette's shoulders. Thus a time of neglecting came to pass. What seemed such fulfilling promises has revealed itself, nothing more than empty words. Anette felt slighted.

Could it have been caused by an exchange of bitter words from the previous letter? Or the lie those words carried? Or is it just the plain ridiculous love she had of her friend?

Anette soon realized the selfishness on Regina's part. Throughout Anette's busy schedule, she was always there for Regina, but the slight weight upon Regina's shoulders have bound her away from writing paper and ink.

And so, waiting in frustration and eagerness, she says:

"For I know not to call a friend a lie,

And to reassure her well, if I so did try,

To say I'm sorry, if I made her cry,

For I never want my friendship to die.

Regina promised a visit last night, but she didn't. Did she not?

My Modem and I

My modem and I have a horrible relationship. You see, he just doesn't act right.

Once in a while he blinks, then he disappears.

Once in a while, he's sweet, and allows me Internet access.

Lately, he's been acting up, hence I was cut off from the cyber world.

Well, guess what?

I DUMPED HIM and got myself a new modem.

And its BLACK.

Caught In A Lab Romance.

These are the lamentations of a lab assistant to his sweetheart.

Caught In A Lab Romance

Alone and longing,

In the dingy, dark laboratory,

I work industriously, craving,

For you, so I create an imagery.

You are my beaker of hydrochloric acid,

You react, never ceasing, I am your catalyst,

Your emotions, frothing, I know not what I did,

The stop watch times our romantic escapade.

I twirl you around with my glass rod,

You swirl so majestically in the conical flask,

I stand you still, calmly on the tripod,

I see you in effervescence, you cannot mask.

Cover you gently with the bell jar,

Keeping you warm, Oh look! The thermometer!

The meniscus rises and travels far,

Without thongs, you'll surely burn my fingers!

But love! You are my Bunsen burner every night,

In this moonlit hour, I observe you carefully,

Under a microscope, I slide your sample tight,

Your molecules rearrange so beautifully.

I gently pour you through the filter funnel,

I see crystals, traces of you,

I slowly dab you, and water I channel,

I wash you clean, salvaging crystals few.

You are beautiful under ultraviolet light,

You are a lovely salt, I pocket

you, safe in my coat, as I venture into the night,

You are complete, I pull off the socket.

This is the place I visit you ever night,

Your grave is lonely and so I place,

A salt crystal on your stone and to my delight,

You spirit claims it, with a smile on its face.

Inspired by April

Written by Rowena

Polluting Noise by Edwin

You know we love him.

To Putra, To Putra, To Putrajaya....

We went to Putrajaya, and when I say 'we', I mean the Form Sixers, minus the juniors, of course!

Upon arriving there, we first headed off to the SPRM section, which is also know as MACC. The Malaysian Anti Corruption Council. Or something like that.

Anyhoo, the facilitator was pretty good. He didn't talk about MACC much, he spoke more about the power of the mind. He made us compare our two pinkies then told us to grab the shorter one, shake it and say 'panjang', 'panjang' (which means 'longer, longer'), believe it will grow longer and hey, it appeared too. I'm going to try it again, this time with a ruler.

That's him with another demonstration, using our hit and sexy Bin. Ladies, he's available.

Basically, he asks Bin to hold up his arm and push against the force the facilitator applies. Bin's able to do it. Then he makes Bin say to himself that his weak and all, then suddenly, Bin fails to push against the facilitators force.

Cool, huh?

Receiving a token of appreciation.

Sharleen delivering a speech on how we 'enjoyed' the trip.

They served good food, but due to a time cinstraint we couldn't feast so well. Never mind.

We carried on, this time to the Human Resource Ministry.

Ta-da!

Wei Zheng, absolutely comfortable in his seat. He was so excited to get the one at the round table. Uh... oval table.

Jugi got the back seat, so she had no problem taking 40 winks off the lecture, which did turn out to be quite informative.

"Is that a..... *FLASH* ...camera?"

"I know... I know... his sushi tastes worst than mine."

Of course, I could not resist the urge to grab wonderful pictures of the architecture. Always had a fascination with chandeliers. :)

Azlin touched the stars.

This is what the buildings look like from the outside.

The red brick wall reminds me of courts. From overseas.

And that's us. Happy, well fed, bunch of lazy bums.

The end.

The Great Hiatus

My sudden disappearance was due to the revenge of the impertinent cable.

Enough of that, cheerio to you!

I missed you. Did you miss me?

SLAP*

At some point in our lives, we need a tight slap. It helps put things in perspective, makes you see beyond the horizon, makes you realize there's more to life than what you imagine it to be.

I thank you, Lord, for slapping me. I don't think I deserved it but nevertheless, THANK YOU.

Amazing Grace,

How sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like me,

I once was lost, But now am found,

Was blind, but now I see.

'Tonight, I Can Write', a quote by Pablo Neruda.

I did not know why I ran.

I found myself walking hurriedly away from him rushing to the corridor.

My heart was thumping fast.

I picked up my skirt and ran. The tapping of my feet against the concrete blended with the harmony of misery and sheer delight.

I was a silent cup of confusion.

I ran up the stairs and into the room. I was greeted by friendly faces. Seating myself down, I panted. It was there, the lump in my throat. It never left.Though it threatened me to imitate Niagara, I could not cry it out, I could not swallow it. I stayed, leaving its tiny mark of bitter grief.

It made it's presence when he embraced me, when he enclosed me within his arms. It stayed as I leaned against his arm. It never left.

As subtle as it was, I felt that one day, it will be relinquished by the softness of my pillow.

Yet for now, I shall dream of his care and tenderness.