Strange as it may seem, I still hope for the best, even though the best, like an interesting piece of mail, so rarely arrives, and even when it does it can be lost so easily.

from http://www.ipl.org/div/farq/plotFARQ.html

1. [wo]man vs. [wo]man
2. Revenge
3. An Enemy Loved
4. Necessity of Sacrificing Loved Ones

I am such a genius for reducing my almost 60k word novel into the 4 basic themes.
And oh yes, the next bit is to ask questions.
Here we go...

Who is the revenge taken against/who is the enemy, and why?
Who is the loved one that is about to be sacrificed, is he related to the enemy?
Why is there a need to sacrifice the loved ones?
Who is the one challenging the main character?


I actually have all the answers to the questions.
The real problem comes with tying them all together properly.

UGHHHH, ADDICTED.
Kpop is annoyingly irritatingly addictive.
But GOD hey, that lead singer is cool!
Orange lipstick + asymmetrical bowl cut + jumpsuit = sexy.

Deidre made a small sound to Hinata's left, and he did not have to turn to know that there would be an amused smile on her face. Lilianne told them her name, unhesitatingly, and the usual polite commentary of how lovely it was replayed. Things went on rather smoothly after that, except when Xenia turned her charm onto Charlot.

"So, what is your brother's name, Lilianne?" she asked, smiling at him most prettily, her sugar-cube teeth dazzling.

"Master Charlot is my father, Master Xenia," Lilianne replied brightly.

Lilianne's smile would be the most beautiful thing of earth at that moment >D

E=BAD ROMANCE^2



HMMMM.
btw, am I the only one who's noticed that the authors of the book have the same surname as the bears? D:

And if we are the body, how’d the pretty man get so ugly? How’d he get all these spaces between each limb? And if there is one thing bigger than my head, that’s the distance I’ve been mislead. Cause I think we were made too pretty. We’re caught up in a stare and we can’t break. We know nothing changes too slowly.

I lied, the quote's from Tugboat Comlpex. :D

OH 1024x763 MONITOR, I LOVE YOU.
LOOK AT HOW HUGE THE PICTURES ARE ON DEVART!
LOOK AT ALL THE DETAILS I CAN SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~!

Oh yeah.

StarFighter Comics is such a cool comic.
EXCEPT IT'S EXPLICIT AND MY EYEBALLS BURNED WHEN I READ.
ARGH, I'M GOING TO GO BLIND FOR NOW AND FOREVER MOREEEE.

As Hinata buttoned the double-breasted coat, he was vaguely aware of Charlot watching him once more, hawkishly, when he would usually be occupied in his thoughts, or gazing at some distant corner of the room.

"Something wrong, Master Charlot?" He asked, out of sheer politeness, as he primped the collar of the coat, creasing out the lapels, flattening the starched fabric down against Charlot's chest.

"It appears that you may have grown taller, waif." Charlot's comment seemed rather bemused, maybe even slightly puzzled.

Hinata fought the irritation that rose valiantly. It was always so difficult for him to counter any comment towards his very visible lack of height. Especially when the comment came from a man who was perhaps taller than half of the population in the country. "I hardly think I'll be growing any taller at twenty-two, Master Charlot," he managed evenly, as he adjusted the shoulders of the coat aligning it perfectly.

"No, really. See here the top of your head is almost to my neck now. I remember it was barely to my collar bone when I first met you!"

"The distance between your coller bone and neck isn't that far, you probably remembered wrongly."

Doing some rereading and revisiting on my inital ideas on how to finish it.
DID I REALLY WRITE THAT? OMG IT IS SO FRIGGIN PWNSOME.

Absolute love:

"I hardly think that that's going to detract from the fact, Master Charlot," Hinata told him matter-of-factly, lulled into a sense of satisfaction and comfort by the crackle of fire, "That your darling horse is the only thing I've seen that's taller than you, and is sturdy enough to be ridden into war."

Charlot named that particular horse Vercingetorix, which means "king over warriors" from Gaulish ver "on, over" combined with cingeto "marching men, warriors" and rix "king". Charlot is a proud, vain twit and I'm sure it shows.

And yes, the ONLY things in the story taller than Charlot is his horse and the ceiling.

Cousins came over for the weekend from KL.
I finally made it to Bras Basar and the National Library.
Art Friend is a whole lot huger than I thought it would be.

Sorry I'm such a sua gu okay? D:

Quotes!
I realised that I haven't done a quote post since school reopened.
So here's the first quote post of the year?

I wouldn’t raise my child inside this city anyway. They grow up too savvy and they grow up too fast. And they know about buying shit and they know about sex. And they know about investment banking and also about brokerage firms. And they know about the numbers and they know about the words. And they know about the bottom line and also about stones. And they know about careers and about the real deals. And they all grow up and become people’s people with people skills.

"Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to unemployment insurance and library cards, to absinthe and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies and contraceptives… and to the “good life”, whatever it is and wherever it happens to be."

Dr. Hunter S. Thomspon, Proud Highway; Saga of a Desperate SOuthern Gentleman

Listening to Stereophonics right now.
Are they even of my era I wonder?
I suspect that they're probably from the early 2000s, but that song I like was first released in 2008! :O Whaaaaaat?

Last quotes for you from my book!

In the first few days after the funeral, our interest in the Lisbon girls only increased. Added to their loveliness was a new mysterious suffering, perfectly silent, visible in the blue puffiness beneath their eyes or the way they would sometines stop in mid-stride, look down, and shake their heads as though disagreeing with life.

The man lashhed the fence, in sections, to his truck and -- getting paid for it -- gave Mr. Bates the worst lawn job we'd ever seen. We were amazed our parents permitted this, when lawn jobs usually justified calling the cops. But now Mr. Bates didn't scream or try to get the truck's license plate, nor did Mrs. Bates, who had once wept when we set off firecrackers in her state-fair tulips-- they said nothing, and our parents said nothing, so that we sensed how ancient they were, how accustomed to trauma, depression, and wars. We realised that the version of the world they rendered for us was not the world they really believed it, and that for all their caretaking and bitching about crabgrass they didn't give a damn about lawns.

Long love affair with this song.
Long story.

Addicted

I'm so addicted to
All the things you do
When your rolling round with me
In between the sheets
All the sounds you make
With every breath you take
It's unlike anything
when you're loving me

oh girl lets take it slow
so as for you well you know where to go
I want to take my love and hate you till the end

It's not like you to turn away
from all the bullshit I cant take
it's not like me to walk away

I'm so addicted to all the things
you do when your rolling round with me
in between the sheets
all the sounds you make with every breathe you take
it's unlike anything
when you're loving me

I know when it's getting rough
all the times we spend
when we try to make
this love something better than
just making love again
its not like you to turn away
all the bullshit I can't take
just when I think I can walk away,

I'm so addicted to all the things
you do when your rolling round with me
in between the sheets
all the sounds you make
with every breathe you take
it's unlike anything

I'm so addicted to the things you do
when your rolling round with me
all the sounds you make with every breath you take
it's unlike anything when you're loving me
when you're loving me

I cannot make it through
all the things you do
there's just got to be more to you and me

I'm so addicted to all the things you do
when your rolling round with me
in between the sheets
all the sounds you make with every breath you take
it's unlike anything
it's unlike anything

I'm so addicted to
all the things you do
when your rolling round with me

all the sounds you make with every breath
you take its unlike anything
I'm so addicted to you
addicted to you

The more I try to reread Interview with a Vampire, the more hints I get about how Louis feels about Lestat, and the more romantically inclined/abusive controlling their relationship develops in my mind. It's interesting, to some extent. I mean, romantic and controlling aren't really two words that can go together unless one of them is negated.

And oh, remember Skinny? That Ibi Kaslik book? I finished it. again.
It was as good as it was down to the very last word.


Summary: Do you ever get hungry? Too hungry to eat?

Holly’s older sister, Giselle, is self-destructing. Haunted by her love-deprived relationship with her late father, this once strong role model and medical student, is gripped by anorexia. Holly, a track star, struggles to keep her own life in balance while coping with the mental and physical deterioration of her beloved sister. Together, they can feel themselves slipping and are holding on for dear life.

This honest look at the special bond between sisters is told from the perspective of both girls, as they alternate narrating each chapter. Gritty and often wryly funny, Skinny explores family relationships, love, pain, and the hunger for acceptance that drives all of us.


This book was the one that got me started on the gritty genre. After this I picked up similar ones in first person narrating self-destruction and eventual death. I liked the tight first-person narrative, the bleary outlooks and everything. It's a lot more vivid in first person, and it's a lot more personal and engaging than it would have been in third-person.

Giselle is a very very very engaging character. She's perfect: good grades, moderately pretty, modest, careful and determined, but she's also a flop: she hates herself. She's a perfectionist, and she's suffering from a mental disorder more so than anything else. There are times when you will hear her narrating about her, a controlling character who screams and thrashes at her for every single small mistake (five skewers at a potluck, having alfredo instead of white-wine-mussel sauce) and convinces her that she's worthless (especially about that guy she likes). The pacing is not very good -- I didn't like the subplots about her parent's pasts because it seemed badly out-of-place and unfinished, even though it was to some point illuminating, but everything else is wonderful.

So? While I finish The Alchemist, go pick up a copy.