Again.

But drenched in vanilla twilight I'll sit on the front porch all night

Sunday, January 17, 2010, 4:08 PM

So on the way home from study group with Pei Jun and Felicia (Sec3Guides we should totally do this every week cos Sec3 has changed even Felicia into a hardworking person so we surely would not lose focus). But my focus point is not to convince you guys to come for the study group. It is about hair.
So on the bus I was sitting opposite this weird guy whose head sprouted every single hairstyle imaginable. And more. His hair was dyed--gold and brown-- and half of the hair on his head was long and flopped down on a side of his face. The other side was cropped short just above his ear and then behind his ear it became longer. The hair looked rebonded and was spiked up and a bit curved at the top. The back of his head looked like a chicken backside. Honestly, what's the point of doing all that stuff (which, incidentally, makes you look mad) if you're going to mess it up by sleeping? Just run a comb through your hair and be done with it. And if you're going to tell me maybe he did just comb his hair, don't bother. It looks like a whole lot of creative combing to me, and let's just say the word 'creative' already implies the amount of time taken.
Sheep are wonderful creatures ;D

As the rain pours

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More of me on my Tumblr (L)

A Whiting and A Snail-Lewis Carroll
‘Will you walk a little faster?’ said a whiting to a snail.
‘There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle - will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?

‘You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!’
But the snail replied ‘Too far, too far!’ and gave a look askance -
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.

‘What matters it how far we go?’ his scaly friend replied.
‘There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France -
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?’

But drenched in vanilla twilight I'll sit on the front porch all night

Sunday, January 17, 2010, 4:08 PM