2012/12/09

Oh yes.
One more depressing thing.

Fuck my memory.
And by fuck, I mean fuck.

Guess what I did!
I forgot to keep the DSLR.
Fuck isn't it?

I'm only lucky that I have cousins that are observant that helped us to keep it.
It's not my DSLR either, it's my sis's.

But what the fuck?
I. LEFT it, on the COFFEE TABLE.
How smart was I?

Plain. Genius.

That explains why I lost MY camera.

Fuck.
I swear that I will NEVER get another camera unless I LEARN to TAKE CARE of it!

Fuck this memory. Fuck this brain.
I seriously have nothing better to do. Though I can be so hardworking and start flipping SPM books.
But you know me, I'm not.

I used to tell myself to study in the holidays so the things I learnt throughout the year won't go away.
But I'm so laaaaazy.
And it's like... I've been studying hard the whole year, 2 months of holiday... Why not enjoy it first?
But I know if I keep on going like this, I'll be darn dead next year.
I won't be able to do it!!!!!!
Especially that darn darn damn damn sejarah.
DAMN.

Just got my results this evening (cause I just came back from Bukit Tinggi).
My chemistry was bad... I wasn't prepared for those OMG questions..
I know this is not an excuse.
I love chemistry.
But it's depressing cause I don't know how to answer.
When questions come, I'll go blank.
But when I learn, I can take them in so easily.
Why am I such a fail?

My BM is... better than the 3 times before. (But I expect higher. Haha! I mean, come on! I wrote my essay so awesome-ly! Well at least that's what I think it was.)
English, still can't beat last time's marks.
But I guess it's my essay. Hah, a 30-minute shit?
BC... Better than last few times as well.

Ahh, I don't know.
Still feel stressed about studying.
Don't wanna bother...................................

2012/11/17

Still remember when I first started to learn how to ride a bike. No one was there to teach me and I only had a big bike. My size that time was way smaller than the bike. And I could only ride around that small garden of mine. (Though it's not really small, but for a big bike.. Yeah..)

Come to think of it, I really was very persistent. I fell a lot - against the gate. And had my arms and legs filled with bruises. But I picked myself and the bike up, and continued.

So I was that willing to get hurt just to learn how to ride a bike. For a 7 year old ( I think), pretty impressive :D (Praising myself, I know)

2012/11/15

I was once a person that has exactly no idea of traditional singing. And I started learning when I entered Heng Ee choir.

At first, I thought it was somewhat like modern singing. But I was wrong. Everything was different. You don't use your so called "real voice" to sing traditional songs. And the technique is another matter.

I kept on going to choir lessons isn't because I really liked it. I just didn't want to write letters cause I don't know how. So I kept going. Somehow I knew I was meant to be there

I knew I wasn't singing properly. Not "the voice" teacher wants. I didn't know how, I didn't understand. But all I could do was to sing and dedicate my voice. I know I was loud. I wasn't afraid that they'd listen to my terrible technique of singing. I believed I was still not-that-bad. Yes, I was narcissistic like that. (I am still.. A little.) I just blared and hope my voice can make a difference - good different. I was afraid of being critisized because I might not be able to be strong enough to hold back my tears. I'm still that way. So I tried my best just to get things right. Right what they wanted.

I went through those times when I wasn't chosen for the competition in form 1, successfully get myself into the Blue team when I was in form 2, and finally got myself a spot in the white team when I was in form 3. Come to think of it, a lot of things had change throughout the years.

My first chance to streghthen my skills was when I joined the team to compete in China. I experienced new practice environments. Like standing up one by one and sing solo - means tremble-till-you-can't-sing. I still remember how I sang it and how my senior reacted. I was.. embarrassed actually. It was really terrible. But singing with them makes me feel safe, it's like they're always there to support you, but to repay them, you must do your part as well. And that was what I did and what I'm still doing.

The time when I really know how to use the 'technique' was when I joined the solo competition this year. I really got it now. But it's depressing when the feeling keeps slipping away. It's hard to grasp but you just have to try. I kept trying and trying.

All along, I kept trying. I learn. I fall. I get up. And fall again. But I will never stop. Because I chose to live this life. I never regret joining choir and I never will.

I sincerely hope the younger ones can understand their part in our big family. It really depressed every time I hear them sing. They give up so easily. They aren't willing to try. They always disappoint us...

Sometimes I just hope I can scream them in their faces: SING!!! WHY WON'T YOU SING?!?! HAVE YOU GONE IN THE WRONG CLUB??? 

Please........ Give us your voice. Show us your efforts. We won't be able to hold on to you guys for long. You have to stand on your own now..

P/s. not just those younger ones.. STUPID BOYS. DON'T DARE TO SING. WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF ANYWAY?! ISIT SO HARD FOR YOU TO PUT EFFORT IN YOUR SINGING?! ISIT?!?


2012/11/13

Hey y'all (though I know there's no "y'all" here).
First time blogging with my phone. Pretty nice, maybe I should do this often :))

At my grandma's.. Listening to my uncle singing... (he can't sing!!!)
But it doesn't matter, the music is still louder than his singing.

Speaking of singing. It reminds me of choir.
It was pretty awesome this morning cause something is finally in shape.
Not until the "only girls" group. That totally blew up the teacher's mood.
I admit I was terrible too. I kept singing the wrong and suddenly using the wrong technique, all that..
Gonna use more effort to overcome that tmr.

I said I was gonna practice when I get home.
But it's night time already and I'm afraid that I will be too loud :x
But I gotta practice! Ahh, what to do...


Twitter used to be some place I can actually write things I can't tell others.
But as more and more people are joining Twitter - and follow me, I can't simply write things anymore :(
I don't know I just HAVE to write it on Twitter. I mean, you can write it in diaries and stuff.
But I don't know, I just like writing there.
It's weird that since I don't want people to know my complaints, I still want to write it on a social website.
It really is weird.


So. Another day tmr.
Hope things will go as well as today's.
I kept feeling that my throat will burst any day.
The fear.......

2012/01/28

I'm back again

Yes, it's been so long since i've been here.
REALLY LONG.

Well, don't have time for this. Hah!
Facebook can take me hours (or maybe a few days) to look through.
And I'm finally free to be here.
I feel like typing things, too.

I suddenly feel like writing a fanfic. :)
I think my English is rusted, but I still want to try.

I like dialogues better, so I might write loads of dialogues :)

-------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1

A day has passed. I took my bag and left the studio. For 6 years, I’ve been working in this little studio, off Yongsan Street, located in a God-forsaken area, where passers-by are a bonus. It has been years since I wrote and published my first comic book, but I think people barely knows my name, or comics for that matter.

As Yongsan Street is located in such a remote area, public transports are unavailable, unless you take a 10-minute walk that is. Yes, I time my walks. And no, I’m not complaining. Walks like these give me time to think, and to take in the fresh air, along with the beautiful scenery Seoul has to offer. But on hot summers and freezing cold winters, I just want to get these 10 minutes over with. I am really not a fan of peeling skin and frostbites. After reaching the bus stop, I always sit down on the bench and start my research on my fellow comic artists’ work. Well, that’s what I do all the time, but not today. After finishing my longest and greatest piece of work, a 35-chapter comic book in 5 days, I feel so worn out.

The moment I sat down and leaned myself against the bus stop pole, I felt dizzy. Everything in front of me became blurry and I was beginning to see stars. My heavy eye lids couldn’t support themselves and I drifted to wonderland. Oh, wonderland. Big, shady trees everywhere. The air is so clean, so fresh. Breathing it made my lungs felt healthy. I followed the sound of water gushing and found myself in front of a huge waterfall. Absolutely beautiful. A hand touched my shoulder. The palm was so warm that I wanted to hold it forever. I turned over to see who the owner of this warm hand was, but I couldn’t. Then I heard someone call…

“Miss? Miss?”

I opened my eyes. A man, clad in a red sweater and leather jacket, was standing in front of me. I couldn’t see his face as he was wearing a pair of heavily tinted sunglasses, with his scarf all wrapped up to his nose.

“The bus is here. “

I stood up and bowed to him, “Thank you for waking me.”

He smiled and walk away. How peculiar. Isn’t he getting on the bus? I didn’t bother. I admit, I live in my own, little world sometimes. But, really. At that time, all I wanted was to go home, eat dinner, clean myself up, and hit the hay.

The next morning, I had the opportunity to sleep in as my boss gave me a day off to thank me for working hard the past few days. The thing is, it makes no difference. Well, not for me. I was used to wake up at 8 in the morning. And so I woke up, changed into something warm, and went out for breakfast. After settling down at a nearby cafe, I got myself a cup of black coffee and started to come up with new ideas for my next comic. Ah, the workaholic I am. For no reason, I thought about the man I met yesterday and wondered why he needed a pair of sunglasses when there was no sun. Its winter, for God’s sake. Why was he at the bus stop when he didn’t even get on the bus? Tsk tsk. Weird people these days.

“Are you Jung Ji Yoon-sshi?” A teenage girl of around 16, approached me.

“Apparently I am. May I help you?”

I was shocked. How in the world did she know who I am? I didn’t recognize her from my circle of friends as well, not that I have a big circle of friends, of course. Trust me, I am not a person who socializes on a daily basis. I barely had friends in my school days. People who would likely know my name would be my parents, my best friend, and my colleagues.

“Oh my! I never thought I would be able to meet you in person! I love your comics! Can I have your autograph please? Jebal!”

Double shock. Ok, make that triple shock. Wow, my first fan. Asking for my autograph? Me, Jung Ji Yoon’s autograph? Am I on an episode of ‘Candid Camera’? Seriously, is this a joke? No, I’m not overreacting. Over the years, the times when I was asked for my signature was when I registered my bank account, paid my mortgage, buy my insurance… and no more.

“Oh, er, I guess that’s okay.”

The girl passed me a pen and a copy of my latest comic book, which she produced out of nowhere. This is getting freaky. She has a copy of my comic book on the go?

“What’s your name?,” I asked.

“Kim Hye Rim.”

“To my fan, Kim Hye Rim. Hwaiting!,” I signed, hoping that my autograph won’t look too corny. Maybe it’s time to start practicing my autograph, just in case.

“Thank you so much! My brother and I read your comics all the time. I heard you are publishing a new comic called ‘Time to Love’, right? Both of us are looking forward to it!”

She said her goodbyes and ran away in excitement. It was a very odd feeling. My very first fan! Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that someone would actually read my comics, and love it. Reading it was hardly possible, but loving it? I had no idea.

After finishing my coffee, I left the cafe and went for a stroll around the city. I realized that it had been quite a while since I step foot into the city. Apart from my home and studio, I don’t really go anywhere else. How lifeless. It was a working day and there were a lot of cars on the road. Hmmn, not many people on the streets, I noticed.

I stopped dead in my tracks. What a coincidence!

“Oppa, it’s her! I saw her in the cafe this morning! See!”

She waved deliriously towards me. A man of strong build, who looked rather familiar, stood beside her. The girl ran towards me and said, “That’s my brother I told you about. We were just going to the shops to see if your books are on the rack!”

The man approached slowly and lifted his hand.

Annyeong! My dongsaeng and I are big fans of yours. It really is an honor to meet you in person.”

“Thank you very much,” I said, while shooking his hand.

Suddenly, something struck me. It was the hand, the warm hand on my shoulder in wonderland. It is him! The weird man in sunglasses!

“Do you mind if I ask you something? This might sound weird but, were you the one who woke me up at the bus stop yesterday?”

At first, he looked clueless. Then…

“Oh, it was you! I didn’t know that.” He chuckled, feeling embarrassed.

Of course you didn’t know that, you babo. You could barely see me behind those heavily tinted sunglasses when there was no sun!

My phone rang, it was my oppa. He said he wanted to meet up. So I excused myself and left. I’ve never told anyone but my brother is a singer. It’s hard for us to see each other because of his busy schedule. But, I’m used to it already. Whenever he has time to meet up, I will definitely rush over to see him. He has always been a great brother to me. Despite his busy schedule, oppa will give me his help and support whenever I need it. And I’m not afraid to tell the world that my brother is my hero. Both our parents are doctors. We were left at our grandma’s place when we were younger as they were too busy for us. Our grandmother loves both of us very much. But raising both of us single-handedly was a tough job at her age. Which is why I would go to my brother whenever I faced any problems. Oppa is an all-rounder, great in academics, sports, music… you name it. He has a talent in music, with good looks as an additional bonus. Though he never took lessons, oppa could play the drums at 6 years and strum the guitar at 7. He is no Justin Bieber, but he is my brother.

We met up at a community basketball court, about 20 minutes drive from the hustle and bustle of the city. He looked as amazing as always. Gleaming dark-brown eyes. Gorgeous jet-black hair… And there’s this million-dollar smile of his which never fails to cheer me up every time. There’s something different about him today though, heavy eye-bags shadowing under his eyes.

“You haven’t slept well?”

“Well, my new album will be published soon. Don’t have much time for sleeping.”

“Oppa…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself.”

We sat in silence for a while. I turned to look at my brother, recalling the things we did the last time I saw him in February. So it had been almost a year since I saw him. Yes, I do see him on the cover of magazines, reality shows on tv, and sometimes in advertisements. But nothing beats seeing him in person.

“I read your comics. Not bad. Getting better every time.”

“Nah. My comics aren’t good enough, but I just don’t know what’s missing. Maybe the plot is too… typical.”

“Just do your best. I think you’re doing fine.”

“Thanks, oppa,” I flashed him my little-girl grin I know he loves.

He smiled back at me.

“Oppa?”

“Hm?”

“Can I hug you?”

“Hah, what’s gotten into you? Do you miss me that much?”

“Of course I miss you. I’m your beloved dongsaeng aren’t I?,” I shot him a self-satisfied smirk.

He laughed and gave me a hug. I just wished I could stay in his arms a little longer, but his phone started to ring.

“Yes, hyung? …Okay, I’ll go over right now.”

He ended the call. He looked at me, his eyes full of apologies.

“Call me when you’re free. I’m fine,” I assured him.

“I definitely will. I’m very, very sorry. Mianhe.”

“It’s okay. Work hard and take care of yourself, oppa.”

“You too. Call when you need me.”

“Bye oppa. I’ll miss you!”

He gave me a big hug and drove away in his manager’s Porsche he borrowed. Looking at him drive away was too overwhelming. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. At times, I feel like blaming him for being a famous singer. Oppa, I can barely see you do you know that? You’re all that I have! But of course, it’s not right to ask my brother to give up on his dreams for my sake. I’m not that selfish.

I did not know where to go. So I went to my brother’s favourite hangout when he was younger - the library. Oppa and I used to go there all the time. He loved reading, but I was the exact opposite. He used to pick a lot of books and forced me to read all of them. The library changed a lot. The building had been repainted and the old tables, chairs, and bookshelves were replaced with new ones. The last time I was here with my brother was 8 years ago. 8 years is a long time. In fact, it seemed like forever. I picked a book with an interesting title, sat on a cozy couch and started reading. Then someone came and sat beside me.

“Coincidence, again?”

I turned over to see my male fan smiling at me. This time, he had a cap on. Wearing a cap indoors?

“Oh, it’s you again,” I smiled back at him. “I suppose so.”

There was a moment of silence before he started to talk.

“Can I offer you a cup of coffee? If you have time, that is.”

“A cup of coffee? Why?”

“I guess no one could be as lucky as me. You know, meeting their favorite artist three times in two consecutive days.”

I was still curious.

“As simple as that?”

“What kind of person do you think I am?”

“I’m sorry, I just… No one offered me coffee before, especially people I don’t know.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“Yes, I guess it is.”

He stood up and turned to look at me.

“Shall we go now?,” he tilted his head, pointed it towards the direction of the door.

“Alright.”

I must be out my mind, accepting coffee from a stranger. And I don’t even know his name!