His name is Boonaa.

Hilarious Poet :)

He is insanely mind-blowing!

His name is Boonaa Mohammed, my current muse inspiration muse inspiration. Yes.

Love,

Sawyer.

"you're never ready for what you have to do, you just do it. that makes you ready" - from Sybil

Oh if only words can talk.

Have you ever had too many words in your head but none at the tip of your tongue? it's like some words had its skirt hiked and some words had its pants down to create more baby words who will then mingle with other words and BAM!, more little words running around in your head. Those very words refuse to slide down your throat to visit the tongue when the mouth needs them the most. Instead, they send in pseudo words to run such errands. Thus came "um" "err" "aah" down your throat, slides right off the tongue and into the thin air.

Right now "um" "err" and "aah" are in sync with my breath. I don't know what to say, what not to say, how to say what I'm supposed to say, and how not to say what I'm not supposed to say. So, I'm going to go off on a word-vacation. I'm going to let these words run loose in my head without indulging in a conversation with any of them, all the while hoping that some blue-collared word will start a riot. I'll see/talk/watch/smell/hear you when I can form better sentences, and when my heart can walk in a straight line.

Till then, pseudo-miss me when I'm gone, kay?

Love,

Ben's Belle.

Oh what I would do to be your muse.

Truth Schmruth

John Clayton Mayer. My oh my. He’s creating buzz over his Rolling Stone interview. You know how they say the truth sets you free. Well, that’s not always accurate. John let the bald cat out of the bag. So bald you can see its wrinkles. And people smiled, laughed, gasped, covered their mouths, picked up their jaws from the floor from time to time, muttered doubleyouteeheigh (wth), some muttered doubleyouteeeff (wtf) [hey, whatever rocks your boat], reread lines to make sure he said what he did, google more on him, fall in love with him, despise him..and the list goes on. (Hey people react in a number of ways, how on earth should I know each and every reaction? haha). I’m going to let you guys explore what he revealed in the interview yourself.
[suggestion: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/01/19/john-mayer-on-jennifer-an_n_429121.html]

So now the question is, how did I react? I laughed at his idea of humor (that some mistake for actual facts), feel sad that he’s heartbroken, feel warm and fuzzy cos i mean come on, he’s a crooner. But let’s face it, he sabotaged his image. Basically, he handed everyone a grenade to throw his way whenever he wears his masochistic jacket out. He’s not even trying to reach for the “Man-whore” label pasted on his back. In fact, he bought the “label” a new pair of shades.

After saying “John Clayton Mayer, my oh my” a lot of times, I came across his tweets: “Just read my Rolling Stone cover article. I’m still not sure if I would want to hang out with me” and “After 30 minutes of twirling my hair into a knot, I say “fuck it.” You can’t go wrong if you tell the truth.”

Call me biased but, I agree! You can’t go wrong if you tell the truth. Of course, what’s more important is HOW you deliver that truth. Cos telling the truth is not all that important when Ego is doing the evil-muahaha-laugh next to you. Telling the truth is not all that important when you’re hoping that the person you’re being truthful to will lie to you just to "balance" things off. Telling the truth is not all that important when your grand master plan is to run after you leap. Nope, telling the truth can’t go wrong if it comes from the arms of your heart (I don’t know about you, but my heart has arms. That’s right.).

I think it's clear that this entry is really just me talking to myself. Almost like an inside joke. hahhh.

Till then, blame not the Truth for Reality's doings. Blame not Love nor Time for an untouched heart. Blame has no place in your life nor do you have a place in its life.

Love,
Ben’s Belle.

I’m sorry I jumped. I thought you’d jump with me.

You know how everyone has their own musical guilty pleasures? For some, it’s Spice Girls (Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want). For others it’s Shaggy’s Mr.Bombastic (She calls me Mr.Boombastic say me fantastic, touch me in my back she say I’m Mr. Ro...mantic). And then there are the Ross Gellers whose musical guilty pleasure is Sir Mix-A-Lot’s Baby Got Back (I like big butts and I can not lie. You other brothers can't deny). Basically, EVERYONE has an MGP.

Mine just happens to be Selena Gomez’s Naturally. It has been stuck in my mind since last night (it was right after Scarlett Johansson & Pete Yorn retired performing ‘Relator’ in my brain’s version of the Madison Square Garden) !

(lyrics)

How you choose to express yourself

It's all your own and I can tell

It comes naturally, it comes naturally

You follow what you feel inside

It's intuitive, you don't have to try

It comes naturally, mmmm it comes naturally

And it takes my breath away

You are the thunder and I am the lightning

And I love the way you know who you are

And to me it's exciting

When you know it’s meant to be

Everything comes naturally, it comes naturally

When you're with me, baby

You have a way of moving me

A force of nature, your energy

It comes naturally (You know it does)

It comes naturally

Mmmm yeah

And it takes my breath away (Everytime)

What you do, so naturally

When we collide, sparks fly

When you look in my eyes, it takes my breath away.

I guess this song being stuck in my head is not so much of a coincidence as it is a reality-check. It’s ironic that she sings about how everything comes naturally when she’s with this person, and yet when I listen to the words in the song and I apply it to our situation, what I get from it is that we might not be meant for each other. Cos if we’re meant to be, then everything would come naturally, no?

So, YES Mother Nature, I get what you mean. He and I are not meant to be. To be honest, I’m surprisingly fine with it (yes, “fine” not “ok”/”good”/”great”. Hey, a girl’s got to grieve no matter how wise she may seem. haha). Just as much as you can’t put words in people’s mouth, you can’t put feelings in their hearts either. Hah. Growing up is SO much fun. (In case you can’t tell, that phrase is 70% contentment, 25% condescension, and 5% i-dont-know-what-the-hell-is-going-on-so-i’m-just-going-to-nod)

Till then, when a girl gives you a glass message in a paper bottle, it means she likes you, dumbass. (pardon my french. haha)

Love,

Little Miss Grown-Up.

I’ve been wrong before. So if I am wrong now, please blink twice.

I have a thing for punctuations.

Full-stop and I have this intense love affair.

Yet we never fail to tick each other off.

Full-stop intentionally sabotage the explorer in me

And I purposely date exclamation-mark to express my contempt.

Full-stop makes me feel safe and less vulnerable, but it’s hindering my growth

In case you don’t live in my mind, do not speak its language and know its lingo... “I” am myself, “Full-stop” is my defense mechanism, and “Exclamation-mark” is my frustration.

Love,

Silly Girl.

You threw a Full-Stop my way,
I throw an Exclamation-Mark your way,
Now we’re both cuffed in Question-Mark’s cell.

I Am Tabula Rasa -ish

I am a blank paper. People talk and their words attach themselves onto my paper. Other people read my paper and think, "hey, i've read/heard that somewhere before". Then I (the blank paper filled with other people's words) could not defend myself despite my hands being ink-free. I cry/laugh at the death of originality. But Originality laughed louder than me, even in its grave. Because I'm still the blank paper filled with other people's words.

I need a distraction, so tag, you’re it!

Currently studying at McD with my sis.

sis: so sleepyyy!

me: (points at coffee. encouraging her to drink)

sis: seems so scary

me: welcome to the real world

sis: you mean all these while i’ve been living with ponies???

me: (pauses) are you calling me a pony?

sis: (laughs, drinks coffee) I’m too young to drink coffee.

you’re never too young to trick your neurotransmitters, my friends.

ZigZag

"honk honk!!", went the taxi.

Scrambled Eggs: You're the honk.

Oatmeal: Heyy!

Scrambled Eggs: I didn't mean you, I meant the cab.

Oatmeal: Oh. Next time you must indicate who you're insulting.

Scrambled Eggs: Oh I'm sorry, I forgot the basic insult etiquettes.

Oatmeal: Haha. Step one: please indicate who you're insulting before the insult. Step two?

Scrambled Eggs: Haha. Step two: ...

I forgot what I said step two was.....Oatmeal, help? hahhaa.

Yesterday was just one of our zig-zagging ways

“I gotta keep you on your toes. When you think I'll zig I'll zag, then when you think I'm gonna zag, I do zag! Just to mess you up for the next time when I might zig!” - Lorelai

Dear dustbin, wear a cologne sometimes yeah?

crawling words made sentences which in turn made this post

Exhausted, hungry, and frustrated that I haven't finished my proposal. Feel stupid for rearranging the furnitures in my room (mostly by myself) when I have finals to think about. Books books books..so many books. My room is an arsonist's favourite space. Why do I need to get into this funk? Whenever exam's around the corner, I'll start rearranging or reorganising things. I'm only half-done now. I moved the big bookcase to the other side of the room and some of the books are still on the floor. My sisters are soooo gonna be pissed at me tomorrow morning cos erm the books on the floor are theirs.

Anyway, I've been sitting at my table, exhausted, hungry and frustrated, and then I thought of him who in my dream caused flowers to bloom (NOT in that way, please eh. Actual flowers that literally bloomed and blossomed). Immediately I heard my then 5 year-old sister's voice in my head. Mom had told my sister to eat her lunch quickly and she responded with: "Don't rush me, man!" (she said Mr.Squarepants taught her that). So that voice got me thinking, what's the rush ey? Why do I always think in ultimatums? Why does it have to be now or never? All or nothing? Me or them?..I guess rushing is for fools, right Mr.Presley? If this is meant to be ("this" meaning you and me) send me a hello in an envelope sealed with a heartbeat, yeah?

I better refuel and start on this proposal project thing.. Initially I named it Youth Inc., but my friend informed me that that's taken. So for now, I call it Project LoveHumanity. Will talk about it more when things have been finalised.

Till then, do not blog when you have nothing to blog about. You'll end up publishing a post like this.

Love,

Manic low on sugar/caffeine.

Hey Love, I want you to know that my heart is in a jar no more. So come visit anytime you want.