The Animal Song

The Animal Song

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Yesterday:

I wanted to read Yee Ming's composition for English. But of course, life without strings attached is barely life at all.

I was actually pretty "okay" with letting him read my essay. But then Amanda said "It's pretty good. There are a few grammatical mistakes...", and I whipped the book away.

Yee Ming: *Holds his book away* I'll let you read mine if you let me read yours.
Me: NO! *cue, horror-struck face*. Why would you wanna read mine?
YM: Have to read la. You're one of the best, so I have to see.

Gotta give him credit; he was pretty adamant. At the region of our secluded seats, a lot of fast-snatching and hiding happened. Of course, since he was pretty darned tall (with long, long arms) I did less snatching than he. Sheesh. And when I talk to him, I wonder why I haven't developed a crick in the neck yet. Looking up for a long time is bound to do that to you.

Eventually,I deigned him worthy to read my not-yet-complete composition.

Yee Ming: Wow, we are no match for you.
Me: What?
Yee Ming: I can imagine your 'unusual person', in great detail.

*Cue: glow from within*

That night:

Me: Hey, Yee Ming. It's Farhana. Finally decided to add you to my phonebook. ;p
YM: Lol, okay, I'll add too.
Me: Lol, kays.
YM: Eh, I liked your essay. Send me a few of your works for me to read?
Me: What? Why? I dun write much lately. And the ones that I'm done with were written when I was impressionable. XD the plot is like lalang; first here, then there, then everywhere.
YM: Lol, nvm then. Just wanted to pick up your style of writing.

How sweet. But then again all of us are developing our own style. We just gotta give it time, eh?

______________________

Today:


The YPC wanted 70 students from SMKSBU to hold up banners and signs to "scorn" (my word. too bad, I'm in a bad mood) the mindless murdering, cold-blooded bombing carried out by the Zionists, harming more than hundreds of lives; a good deal of which were children.

The cause was great enough. OF course I'd help out. I am a push-over after all. Whine a bit and I'd most probably be your slave for the next period of lalang-ness. But then again, Pn Sareah just got the letter from the YPC today.

The bloody YPC thingy is THIS THURSDAY.

Ooh, let us count how many days we have to prepare!

Oh... TWO!

Two days to prepare banners and signs for 70 students!

Bull****.

And so, Me, Nurul, Haseef and a select few other students gathered at the Visual Arts Room and got cracking. It was funny. Chew Andy was there too. Aww, the guy has trouble rolling the "rrrr" off his tongue.

With the way things went, I suddenly became the unconsciously-appointed Supervisor. Of course, I still help around, became the colour-consultant (God forbid, Haseef's colour-blind), called people sweetie/darling/sweetheart/romeo, and listened to Andy spout unnecessary-yet-welcome-and-laughable crap.

One of the girls is very, very talented. ;) Take a look at our banner on that day, and you might just be surprised.

We're continuing tomorrow. I've gotta finish the wordings for the signs. Sixteen -- 16! -- different sentences scorning Israel and supporting Palestin. I've been left high and dry. But well, at least I got to work in an air-conditioned room. Yay me.

While in the room...

Pn Aslinda: Kamu semua nak makan ke?
Me: ... Cikgu nak belanja ke? *grin*
Pn Aslinda: Ish!

Pn Aslinda: *hands RM60 to me*
Me: Ya, cikgu?
Pn Aslinda: Pergi la makan. Bahagikan RM 5 setiap seorang.
Me: Cikgu belanja?
Pn. Aslinda: Nanti YPC bayar balik.

x) Haha, kenakan YPC back, eh? Since they're making us work our bloody arses off...

Pn Noraini: Siapa nak makan, pergi makan. RM5 setiap seorang. Kalau nak makan, habiskanlah duit tu. Kalau tak nak, simpan la RM 5 seorang.

People, Pn Noraini's (the art teacher) table is fancy gila!

I was semi-scared to sit on her chair. It was the only one that was covered with cloth and designs.

Me: *typed while standing up*.
Ust. Izati: Aik, Farhana, berdiri?
Me: *grin*
Ust. Izati: Takut nak duduk eh? Kerusi cantik sangat.

Lol.

____________________

Life, you suck. But heck, you're pretty darned funny at times too.



To Julia and KM: Sorry if I was a bit abrupt with you guys just now. I was running on a short fuse and I exploded on you. Okay, it was just a small thing, but I shouldn't have done it eitherways.

Forgive meh.

Congrats on the board, Juls m'dear. You've outdone yourself.



Lovies,
xoxo.



Sometimes, it makes me glad that I'm more animal than human.
What full of bull**** "being a human" is.

Back against the wall. Breathe in, baby; I ain't ravishing you.

Back against the wall. Breathe in, baby; I ain't ravishing you.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I am about to watch back-to-back episodes of Roswell. All because of Abang Arnez. You'd better be thankful , Abang Nez. If I turn comatose, you owe me a whole bunch of graphic novels. Say, what happened to the ones that I used to read? I am still waiting for the continuation, you know.

Roswell. *dreamy look* *sighs*.

____________________

Me: ... Are all Jews bad?
Dad: Not entirely. Not all of them are bad.
Me: Really?
Dad:. Mmmhmm. You see, not all Jews are Zionists. Zionists are Israelis who want to form a state from nothing at the Gaza Strip. Not all Jews are Zionists. Look at this here-- *points at an article in the paper*

Jews against Zionism

Me: Oh... I see.
Dad: All Israeli's are Jews, but not all Jews are Zionists. Get it?

I guess I'm pretty ignorant if I didn't know this. But then again, I am still in the process of extricating myself from this protective shell. It'll take time. Bear with me.

________________

Was looking for my piano lessons book. Suddenly had an epiphany and wanted to resume my self-tutor lessons.

And the book is missing. OMG, I feel crushed. Now I have start from scratch; back to recognising notes. It sucks.

_______________

Ho, I miss you so frigging much. Yin, Afzy, even Kimmy.

And Shane, my baby. T__T .... You're making me cry.


Be happy, though. Despite me having other affairs to attend to (dual meaning intended), I still love you lot a whole bloody lot. So bloody much.


You can't ride two horses with one ass, munchkin.

Don't sink into quicksands.

Don't sink into quicksands.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Today was... *takes deep breath*

Can we not talk about it?

I don't know what happened. On Wednesday, I was pretty fine running three bloody laps around the field. More importantly, I can breathe once I was done.

Today's Shirtliff practice was (pardon the excessive rudeness) shitty. We were told to run two laps around the field.

By the time I was done, my calf muscles felt knotted, and I could barely pull in a deep breath. Against my unconscious objections, I think I'm developing a fear of not being able to breathe. Thanks to history of asthma and chest colds.

Amanda: It must be scary.

When I had the chest cold, I went to sleep praying I wouldnt die breathless. The irony of life just kills you, doesn't it?

I couldn't pull a deep breath after the run too. I know, I know, oxygen debt and so on, but it was pretty bad. No one realised it, but I was wheezing. So unattractive, but it happened.

My stamina couldn't have dropped that sharply, could it? It's just so frustrating.

But the practice, for once, was ... hype. Laine, our fearless, brave, extraordinary captain, was cheering us on, saying we've done very,very well.

Laine: For those of you who think you haven't done your best, it's okay! There's still chance to be better.

Laine, for once, I love going to Shirtliff practices. Although I didn't run the 100 metre race, I'll try to participate in everything else. Especially for shot putt. ;p

_______________

Xin Huei: Mommy!
Me: *Waves and smiles*
Jordan: Mommy!
Me: You're not my son, darling.
Jordan: *points at Yee Ming* that's Daddy.
Me: NO!

The best thing about talking to Yee Ming is that you just prod him, and he'll talk about Gears of War and so on. All you have to do is nod, interject once in a while, ask him a few questions, and he'll go on and on. But what he talks about is interesting. He practically lives in his room-- TV, XBox 360, computer, bed... it's a miracle it all fit in there.

He loves gore. Lots and lots of gore. He and Amanda... are the same. Gore lovers. Ech. I have a pretty darned weak stomach, as it is. So it's a no-g0 if I want to do Med. Sorry, Pn Haslimah. Doctor in Psychology, yes. Doctor in surgery, NO.

_____________________

Pn Donna: I was just telling Damalis here that when I go to your school, I'm like a celebrity.

Damn right, Pn. Donna. We love you that much. Haha. See? 5 years and still you're firmly entrenched within the deep recesses of our hearts.

I noticed that the girls quickly swarm Pn. Donna. The boys...

Pn Donna: TAN JIA WEI!

Jia Wei: *stops in his tracks, and waves*

He stood firmly where he was, 9 feet away.

Pn Donna: Come here.

Jia Wei: *trudges over*

It was funny, really. Pn Donna was asking him some things, and he murmurs answers, looking at me desperately, then looking anywhere but at Pn Donna.

Then, when Pn Donna finally ends the conversation, he fairly runs away.

I guess us girls have more balls (*snort*) than you guys, eh?

Even Tinash stayed away.

Pn Donna still strikes fear into their hearts, after so many years. How... touching.

_______________________

Finished training for Shirtliff, then bought ice-cream (despite my shortness of breath) and sat down on the curbside, beside Faisal, since he insisted that I sit down beside him.

He asked me the most random question:

"Who are you bringing to prom?"

Damn you.

Who's going to want to go to prom with me? Sad, but true, dear.

We've barely even started our trials, and everyone's already thinking of prom. *Sigh*

Faisal: Bring Azry, la.

And Azry walked past.

Me: Why would I want to bring Azry?

I know, beggars can't be choosers, but I have my pride to protect, darn it all.

Faisal: Farhana, Chu Meng thinks you're cute.

Me, I just don't know to believe him or not. Chu Meng was sitting right beside him, mind. But he didn't say anything. Just laughed.

Faisal: So cute, so cute, so cute, so cute, so round...

That just poofed any feelings of adorable-ness from my mind.

*Sigh*

Male characters in books: RM 32.95. The males in my life? Priceless.

Mine was a story that you told your friends,
Yours were the demons you couldn't defend.

One syllable words, old man.

One syllable words, old man.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

She is horrid. For 5 Sc Alpha-ians, I'm sure you know who I mean.

She is giving me a darned headache. Gosh. And I thought Habibah would be the last to grace our list of undesirables.

___________

Got another post today. For Puteri Islam (okay, people, I know I'm not entirely Puteri Islam material, but please, give me the benefit of a doubt.)

Shall I gloat?

As of now, I have up to 5 posts already.

If I don't get my certificate, there'll be hell to pay.

Called the coach just now. Yay, he's going to continue teaching us how to fence (as in swordplay, not putting up fences.)

Hariz called. Sweetie, seriously, it wasn't a bloody shock at all. I knew it was you. Hah. Stalk me, konon. XD

Oh, and my brother's out of the hospital, if any of you wanted to know. Damn, I wanted to visit Prince Court, but ... *sigh* My brother, and his bloody antibodies.

Aly: I need to exercise more.
Me: o_O... why?
Aly: My stomach aches, my thighs ache, and my heart aches. All from running for PJ yesterday.
Me: Wow.

Looks like I'm still pretty fit. The only thing that's aching is my shoulder and I barely know how that came about.

Goodness. I feel good.

Me: Two girls are wanting to leave the ******** club and join the fencing club. The power of my charm, see?
Eugene: Your charm seems to work on girls only.
Me: Ouch, Eugene.

Her: Saya tak mahu kamu cakap dalam apa-apa bahasa selain bahasa Malaysia (semasa waktu BM)
Jet: *turns to me* Jahanam! (Damn)

A quickie is just that: a quickie. So I'll see you soon. Toodles.



"I subpoenaed your father's bank accounts..."
Whoa boy, that's going way overboard.

Quick, ere you fall into my trap.

Quick, ere you fall into my trap.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I should create a new tag: Quickies.

And I love the word "ere". Doesn't it sound so... poetic?

*Sigh*

__________

I can't help it, but I'm posting. A headache is building up at the base of my skull and it's pounding away at my temples. I don't get migraines; my dad does. But I'm starting to wonder if genes are meddling in again.

We had our yearly Prefectorial Installation this morning. And Jehan was being hyper.

HYPER.

I do believe I'm now inflicted with the same sickness she has been suffering throughout the day.

My crappiness has never thus far exceeded bullshit. But today, it went way over the roof, beyond bullshitti-ness.


And I do believe it's one of those times, that I laugh, but I still sound bloody desperate.

Dang, I need to slow down. And I'm barely 17.

____________

Someone-- well, two people-- caught my heart unawares today. They made warmth trickle like heated, molten honey that seeps through every pore of your skin.



1st person: Abz


Vince said that in our thread in our Fiction Guild, we were getting really off-track. Talking about education and sundry when we were supposed to be insulting/criticising my poem. (He calls me Fariz for some unknown reason. But since he knows Latin and Greek, I forgive him. XD)

Abz replied: I can't criticise her work. I like it, and I don't like to contradict myself XD.

Haha, Abz. Thank you. Awww, let me melt again at your words. Awww...

And Vince: I love your drunken poems. They are very beautiful despite the fact that somehow I seem to let the innuendos pass me by. Goodness, how could I overlook such things? ;p Thank you for your sage advice and beautiful comradeship... although we both know that I'm better at photoshop. XD

2nd Person: Cheng Ken.


*Takes in deep breath*.

No one has ever commented on my poem so ... beautifully. Okay, maybe it wasn't that beautifully done, nor was it eloquent, but the fact that he understood the poem, and his in-depth feeling for it... it just... swept me away.

Pn. Lee, I will abduct your son one day, and make him mine. XD

We were actually talking about his poem that he had submitted the other day. Him being a "facts" man, I could see that he was rather insecure about poems and short stories. (Ah, Zi Kang, now I understand what you went through with us.) Being HOD means you have 7 hearts within your hands. And you can't help but have to handle them tenderly.

So, I tried to get his spirits up again, telling him that his poem was good, for a facts-man. I told him about how I used to write my poems.

And then, out of the blue, he said : "Oh, I like your poem. The one that was put inside the "karangan" part."

I was like, "Ohh?"

"The way you wrote it was like you were really there. About the nafas, and stuff. I liked it."

And I went "Awww, really?"

And I wasn't being sarcastic. I was really, really touched.

Then he said it all over again, which just turned me into a pile of mush at his feet.

What you regularly hear is "Nice poem, dear!" "It was a great poem, Far!" "Hanna, nice!"

You don't hear his kind of speech every day. So I guess I'll cherish it for now.

Thank you all. I never knew I would ever have been this blessed.

___________

In front of each open door stood a young woman.
I could see... a well-worn bed.

Because the music you play has long ended.