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A heart,
One heart.
To love a person,
And only one.

Honey, you mean the world to me.
I want to shower you with all the love I have, give you all that I have, care and love you like no other.
I want to be your one and only, for now and for the later days,
But I don’t want to be the reason for any of your losses, a loss that should and cannot have happened.
A friend too worthy, a friend to cherish.
 
Honey, in my eyes, you are still you,
The man I look up to, and the one that I love.
From the day I met you, you’ve not changed.
It pains me to hear the opposite,
I sit and wonder, if I was the reason that all has happened so.

I wish that humming bird on the little tree branch could have hummed me a melody that’d enlighten me on what could or should be done.
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With love,
Cheryl.

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Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone
I’ll be waiting all there’s left to do is run
You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess
It’s a love story baby just, yes..

त्वां कामयामि. 

..

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Why, yes. Helloo =)

(i realized my photos are half faced photos lately, but dont ask me why)

I went to college yesterday for registration purposes after 3 months of not stepping foot into it. No doubt I enjoyed my 3 months holiday like helllllll, but it is not doing me much good especially when college is resuming.

After slacking and enjoying and partying for 3 months, I cannot describe how frightening is the fact that I have to begin college once again. I’m just soooo lazy to start classes, and to wake up early in the morning everyday again.

I even complained like a 5 year old to Jitz of how I don’t wanna go college. And I’ll purposely set wrong timing on my alarm clock. And things like I’ll purposely wake up late. Or act like I’m not feeling well, fever or stomach ache.

Sigh.

But I managed to drag myself out of bed yesterday. Though my alarm clock and morning call did not literally manage to wake me up instantly, but at least I wasn’t thaaat late. Heh
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Here’s a short story for me to bitch about before I end this. Okay, the story is like this.

I’ve never experienced such a shitty registration process ever in my life. And I don’t think I’ve ever lined up for something for as long as 8 hours in my entire life so far.

To register myself in my first year degree course yesterday, I lined up since 9:30am. The queue was frik’n long. And the worse part, the queue wasn’t even moving. It took averagely about 1 hour for the queue to move up by 1 person.

Imagine that.

After a few hours, when I was quarterly-near the counter already, then only had I realize that the counter was closed, and there was no person in charge at the queue that  I was lining up at.

They shut the counter and didn’t even bother to inform us that they moved the queue to another counter. So me and the others who were at the same row queuing up, were queuing for nothing. For shits.

Fine. So I queued up all over again from the back. This time, I made sure the counter was open and it’s the correct queue. Cut the story short, when it was my turn next, the person in charge decided to go off for lunch break. Grrrrrrrrrrrr -.-

Fine. They were there since morning also. I understand if they’re tired. Fair enough. I went for lunch as well. After lunch, I queued up again. And finally in the end, I only got registered at 5:30pm.

8 FRIK’N HOURS.

How epic is that. You tell me.

I think yesterday was a good training for my patience meter, although I think I’ve exploded it for a few times already. Hahah.

I need to be more patient lah. And control my mood swings. This is very bad. I need someone to slap me out of this. lol.

Okay I’m signing off.

Laters.
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p/s: I’m going to tell mom today! If I can manage to find the right time lah. Heh. :)
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Yours truly,
Cheryl, it’s a love story baby just say yes

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“DON’T TALK!”

….was all that’s said, and was enough to shut me with tears.

And you are exactly the reason why I hate to be at home. And if anyone may, do remind me how harsh the word “hate” is.

I’m just an ordinary girl. An ordinary student. An ordinary daughter. I’m no super hero, nor wonderwoman. I’m just human. And it’s only human of me, to seek for a place where I feel loved, where I am loved.

I just want to be loved, and to feel that I am loved.

As sad as it is to say, but home is nothing like it. I suppose the fairytales I was brought up with, were just stories in disguise.

I may look like a tough girl on the outside. I may look like a great leader. I may look like I am strong person.

Truth being told; I’m just a girl. Who has lived up so many years, trying to be tough, and to always stand up for what is right for myself, and for others. I put on a strong shield when I walk the paths alone in the fearful world outside. But only to find out; the shield only protects and shelters the outer of me.

I’m just a girl. Easily broken. Sensitive and emotional. A fragile heart.

I seek for nothing different from any other ordinary girl or child; Love.

Spare me. For I’m only human.

I’m tired of protecting myself. For standing up for myself. Of fighting against all wrong all by myself. I’m tired of holding this heavy shield, which isn’t even emotion-proof.

Trust me when I say that, I’m just an ordinary girl; who is broken inside.

I seek for one who can mend my inner-self, my broken self, as though I was perfect all the while long. One who would love me. And nothing extraordinary.

Because I am just ordinary.

And I am only human.
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Yours truly,
Cheryl, so much for communication.

• Happy Lunar New Year (as said by many, but I still prefer the term Chinese over Lunar)!
  
• Happy coolest birthday to my coolest Mom! (February 10th 2008)
  
• Happy 18th birthday to future pilot, Mr. Jian Tan! (February 12th 2008)
  

…and not forgetting,

Happy Valentine’s to all! :)
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Wow. This simply shows how many celebrations there are in February–and I bet that’s not all the February babies there are.
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As usual, we buy our cakes from Sunway Lagoon Hotel. This is, by far, the best and most delicious, soft and also at the same time, crunchy cake ever by Sunway.
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Alicier is it’s name. A combination of Hazelnut, Chocolate and Coffee, what could beat that? Plus, all the toppings and decorative items on the cake are purely made of chocolate.

Serious shit. Mmm hmm
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Mom, I don’t think you’ll ever read this, considering you don’t read my blog. But here’s to you, Mom.

My mother. Mom; particularly with the letter ‘o’ and not the ‘u’, is how I call her. I love my Mom a whole lot. As common as you may hear this from any child, but I do mean it. I love every one bit of my mother.

Loving my mother, is not only telling her I love her, or washing the dishes for her, or doing the chores just because she asked me to, or buying her pretty things.

Loving my mother, is also, showing her respect–which I admit, at times till now, I tend to accidentally don’t.

I must not lie to myself that I am still trying to learn this naturally. This as in respecting my mother. First thought to your head might be, "a rebelious daughter she is, not respecting her own mother??"
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"Did you mop the bathroom after you showered today? The floor is still very wet you know. I’ve told you so many times, to mop it dry.. or the parquet is going to be over damped and spoil in long term…", said Mom.

Knowing myself clearly that yes, I did mop the floor after showering but perhaps I didn’t do a very good job, I was being the average child who could not bother more about answering a lil bit more politely.

"Ya Mom. I mopped already lar.. It’s just not dry yet okay, I dont know why, but I know I’ve mopped it already", I replied. In a not-so-friendly tone. And I’m not proud of that. At all.

That’s just a simple example.

Sometimes we don’t notice how we response to our mothers, to our parents. Even in small tiny issues, if we could just discard the irritated feeling we always felt when mothers speak to us, it would be so much better. So much more respectful in the natural way, not by force.

I don’t want to do this by force. I don’t want to do this just because I was taught to years ago that I should not speak in such tone with my mother, or I shouldn’t have been rude to my mother, or how I should have respected her.

No.

Not just because I was told to. No.

I want myself to grow out of it naturally. I want to learn sincerely to respect my mother in all ways, and at all times. BecauseI love her.
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Loving my mother, is also, appreciating her. Showing her that I care about even the slightest thing.

"Nobody knows what the future holds." Commonly used. Often heard. Absolutely true.

Nobody knows if we have a tomorrow. Or how many tomorrows we have more. I don’t want to wake up and regret not doing these with my mom.

I like how my mom asks me to get her nails done for her.
I like how she doesn’t mind me dressing her up before leaving for somewhere out.
I like how she cooks my noodles just the way I want them; not too soft and the soup not too diluted
I like how she laughs, cos it’s soooo contagious
I like how she would laugh at small little things like it was her first joke on earth
I like how she wakes me up from my bed when it’s only 9am, and she lies to me and says it’s already 10am
I like how she’s sarcastic at times
I like how she tells stories; she giggles and chuckles before she even started telling it

I like everything about my mom.
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How often do you get mothers who know their daughter who has a blog, but doesn’t go checking the blog up and ‘investigating’ on them?

My mom knows I blog. She knows my blog address. And I tell her bout my blog all the time. But she’s never read it even once (I think). Okay, even if my mom knows how to work the computer, I know she wouldn’t check on me like that.

She would let me out with my friends, even if most of the times, it would be a group of only 2 girls and 7 boys. Or 2 girls and 10 boys.

She never questioned me when I said I’ve done my revisions.
She believes that I wouldn’t take her trust for granted.

That’s how much my mom trusts me and respects me. And I am more than grateful for that. Why can’t I play the bigger role for her in that?

Mom, I love you. Always.
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Yours truly,
Cheryl, Happy Valentines, I love you :)