Zee. 22. Singapore. Fine Art student. Procrastinator. Occasional insomniac. My favourite kind of gifts come in the form of books. Writing keeps me sane. Art keeps me busy. Music is universal. Europe is the place to be.

Facebook | Twitter

Jarr Sarahh Manda Zak Stacy Justin Wannie Feedbooks Poetry Foundation I'm Not a Monster Colour Lovers Random People Lazy Book Reviews

November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 November 2010 December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 March 2011 April 2011 May 2011 June 2011 July 2011 August 2011 September 2011 January 2012 February 2012 March 2012 April 2012 May 2012 July 2012 August 2012

Template by Elle @ satellit-e.bs.com
Others: (X | X)

It has come to my attention that this has got to stop, the procrastination especially. One week and two days and I've done nothing much except for caving in to my strong desire to write. It's wrong in my eyes because with that period of time, I could have done more, achieved more and do others more. I know just what the problem is: the motivation is just not there. This shouldn't be an excuse, I know; what you've got to do, you've got to do and without preparation, even if there's a miracle and I highly doubt it, you're bound to disappoint yourself. But I'm just NOT motivated. It's like I've no desire, no strength to study for one final time, and there are just so many things to do at the same time, so many things to memorise.

It would be much simpler if our brains work like that of a computer's hard drive, yes?

My, the doctor told me today that I've got no enough blood in me. How...depressing. I told my parents there's nothing wrong with me and bringing me to him for consultation wasn't necessary. All seemed well at first until he checked my wrists and he was ah-ing and everything and then, bam, "She has got no enough blood in her body." I remember looking at him, well staring was more like it, and was kind of implying that I needed him to repeat that.

Blood - not enough.

Then, you know, I've no idea where that came from but suddenly there was this annoying, illogical thought that crossed my mind: I'll go drink some vampire's blood, then. It served as a joke really and I would have told my Mom that but I don't think convincing her that I'm just a complete obsessive-maniac over vampires would help. I've made her worry enough about me already.