Yours Truly

My photo
is behind you.
I am a confused, dangerous little girl. And I bite. Fear me.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Thought of the Day #6

I quote Father Jepi, "It is good to be good." c:

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Thought of the Day #5

I love smiling. But what I love even more is to see everyone else smiling back. C:

Friday, February 25, 2011

Thought of the Day #4

Sometimes, I think about how cruel and somewhat twisted the world is with all these crimes and lies and pain going on and I get very sad. But then I think of all the goodness and love that exists in people's hearts and I get all warm and fuzzy again. (:

Say what you want and I call me a stupid optimist, but I choose to believe in the world. Everything will be alright in the end. Just you wait and see. ♥

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Thought of the Day #3

When one starts feeling super ugly, it probably means exams are next week.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Thought of the Day #2

my friends are kinda more awesome than yours. ♥

Friday, February 18, 2011

Thought of the Day #1

Isn't it funny how our parents can't imagine us old and we can't imagine them YOUNG? :D

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

The Reason Why

Okay. So you ask, "Why can't I dye my hair to school? Why can't I paint my nails? Why can't I wear bracelets, big earrings, rings and super gorgeous necklaces? What does any of these have to do with me getting good marks in school?!"

Obviously, it has nothing to do with you or how much it affects your results.

The reason why we wear uniforms is because Malaysia has a code of uniformity. This code of uniformity is because we do have poor students, who cannot afford to spend money needed to LIVE on such super gorgeous necklaces.

How much is it to dye your hair? How much is it for all that nail polish or manicures? How much are those bling bracelets, bangles, leather straps adorning your wrists? How much are those big, shiny, beautiful earrings? How much did your eyeliner, blush, powder cost? How much are all of those things?

Other students who see you will be jealous. They will want some of what you have. Then what if their parents don't/can't let them buy these things?

Anger, disappointment, jealousy, sadness, inferiority complexes, dissatisfaction.

Do you think these are nice feelings to have? No.

So stop your stupid crap on "OMG stupid prefects ruining my LIFE cos I can't wear my oh-so-pretty-anklet!!!!!!"

How shallow can you get? The world doesn't revolve around you. Shut up and start thinking about how others feel.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Footprints in the Sand

Write an original story ending with one of the following:
a) “…and all that remained were footprints in the sand.”

Footprints in the Sand

Ever since Maya was young, she had a friend who lived in the sea. Maya lived in a big house by the sea, where the seagulls cried every day and the sound of the waves were her lullaby every night. She was about seven years of age when Maya first snuck out to the beach late at night.

Once again, Maya had found difficulty in sleeping. It was nearing midnight when she was sure her parents were asleep, and so opening her bedroom door quietly, she tiptoed downstairs and out of her house with only the light of the moon to guide her.

Maya loved this beach. It was a serene, quiet place with golden brown sand when the sun was up and silver white foams that sparkled at night. Maya let the wind play with her long hair as she walked barefooted to her favourite spot on the beach. But when Maya reached it, she found that she was not alone.

A girl sat in Maya’s favourite spot, next to a big rock where the waves would lap right up to her waist during the high tides. She had long wavy hair that was tinted silver by the moonlight and her skin seemed to radiate a soft white glow. Maya stood entranced. Maya would have stayed that way for a long time had not the wind changed directions. Suddenly the girl turned and saw Maya. She gave a loud gasp and immediately dived into the waters, where she was instantly lost in the waves. Maya ran towards the waters, but the girl was gone. Maya climbed onto the rock and sat there until the first rays of the morning peaked through the clouds and a kind fisherman took her home.

Maya could not stop thinking about the girl with silver hair. Who was she, and what had she been doing there? Maya frequented the beach more often, especially at night, but she never saw her and Maya would spend countless nights just sitting upon that rock and gazing out across the sea, watching the waves.

About a month later, Maya snuck out again and as she made her way to the rock, she saw her. The girl whose hair resembled the waves and glinted silver in the moonlight. Maya’s breath stuck in her throat but she forced herself quietly onwards, towards the girl. Once again, the wind suddenly changed its direction but as the girl turned her head towards Maya, she didn’t run. She just stared calmly as Maya made her way across to the rock. Maya saw that her eyes were green in colour.

“Hi,” Maya said.

The girl tilted her head sideways, and replied with a soft, “Hi.” Her voice could be barely heard over the waves and she had an accent, but Maya couldn’t place it. It was almost like a mix between all the accents in the world.

Maya didn’t know what to do after that, so she sat down beside the girl. “My name is Maya.”

“Names are a powerful thing,” the girl said, and nothing else. After a while, Maya finally said, “You have seaweed in your hair.” The girl reached up and touched the seaweed that seemed to crown her head. Her hands closed on it tightly and after a slight pause, she threw it into the sea.

The girl turned slowly and regarded her with big, wise eyes. “Your name means illusion, does it not?” the girl asked softly.

Maya nodded her head.

“Why do you wander the seashore so late at night, young one?” the girl asked softly.

Maya shrugged. “I have trouble sleeping.”

“I see you, many nights, upon this rock. Do you ever sleep?”

“Only sometimes.”

“I do not sleep either. I am a nereid, a water spirit. I do not sleep.”

The way she said it sent a shiver up Maya’s spine. “A water spirit?” Maya asked. “Why are you here?” Maya never once doubted her. It was the only possible thing this girl could be. She was definitely not human.

The nereid turned her eyes sadly towards Maya. “My waters are being polluted. Can’t you sense it, young one? My sea is dying.”

Maya faced the sea, watching the waves lap across the sand, rising and falling. Sure, the sea didn’t look as blue as it used to, but dying? Maya couldn’t understand. “It’s still alive.”

“My sea is dying,” she repeated, hugging her knees to her chest. “It is dying.” And with that, she dived once more into the sea and disappeared among the waves, her words still ringing in Maya’s ears.

Over the next few weeks, whenever Maya couldn’t sleep, the nereid would quietly join her next to the rock. One minute it would be just Maya with the waves splashing against her rock, and the next the nereid would suddenly be there when the waves subsided. Most nights they didn’t talk, but Maya somehow felt the nereid knew her better than anyone else. Maya has never been close to her parents. She was an only child, and her parents worked late often. She went to an all-girls private school where only the rich frolicked and they all looked down upon Maya just because she wasn’t as interested in make-up and boys as they were. A lot of people ignored her. It was as if they never saw her. The nereid was the first and only friend Maya had. The only person, or thing, that truly saw her.

“Do your parents not worry about you?” the nereid asked one night.

Maya shrugged. “They never notice when I am gone.”

The nereid looked at her in a way that made Maya think she could read her mind. “Names are a powerful thing,” she said solemnly. Maya nodded. Though she did not understand, the nereid said this often. “What is your name, then?” Maya asked.

The nereid was silent. Maya realised she wouldn’t answer and rested her hand in the crook of her arm around her knees.

“My name is Galene of the Calm Seas.”

And the nereid was gone.




Five years passed, and nothing much changed between Maya and Galene of the Calm Seas. One day however, Maya found out she was to move countries. Her father had gotten a job overseas, and they were leaving in the next few days. She waited till night fell, and ran out to the sea. There was no one there. Maya sat upon her rock and called out to Galene. In a few minutes, the nereid was there.

“I’m moving.”

The nereid looked at her.

“Overseas.”

The nereid said nothing.

“It’s very far from here.”

The nereid ran five fingers through her long wavy hair.

Maya covered her face in her hands and cried.

“You do not have to follow them,” the nereid said softly.

“W-what do you mean?” Maya choked.

“Names are a powerful thing.”

“I know that.”

“But you do not understand it.”

Maya kept quiet.

“Names are powerful. They define a person. Do you not remember what yours mean, young one?”

“I’m confused.”

“You lived your life according to your name. You can choose to leave them. You are getting of age, young one. Think of your name. What does it mean?”

Something clicked in Maya’s mind. She thought of her life, where she hardly spoke to her parents. She thought of her school, where she didn’t speak at all. She thought of everyone, and how they always seemed to barely look at her. As if she wasn’t there. As if she was just an illusion.

She had never enjoyed her life here, in this world. She reckoned there wouldn’t be much of a difference if she were to leave.


“Come with me, Maya,” the nereid whispered, slowly disappearing into the waves. “Come with me, young illusion.” Her hand was reached out to Maya. It was the first time the nereid had ever said her name. Maya made her choice. She took the hand and without looking back, she walked into the waves.

Not far away, in a big house by the sea, a couple had a dream about a little girl, their daughter. She had the brightest smile anyone could ever have and the biggest, liveliest eyes in the world. Her laughter filled their dreams, but when they awoke, they found their house empty, just as it had been for the last twelve years.

Out on the beach, the sea was quiet, and as the waves retreated silently, all that remained were footprints in the sand.






Thursday, February 3, 2011

i don't remember how to write anymore.