Showing posts from 2008

It's not you, it's me, asshole.

I've been crying all fucking day.

Over pointless BS like feeling sick, work, missing my family and dumb miscommunications with people who misinterpret my effed up mood for something other than the childish cry for someone to give a damn about my pointless BS, it actually is.


I read somewhere that as a Capricorn, being an earth sign my primary emotion is anger. Which sadly (for the rest of the world) I can't discount since my version of upset usually ranges from mild scorn to my tongue showing as much mercy as the Venus fly trap. I know I'm being blatantly selfish and cynical (all Capricorn traits too) but honestly - times like this when it's just been a shitty day, you've gotta ask yourself - why deal with other people when they'll just piss you the hell off, just like you expect them to.

Turning to your go-to someone to just listen and instead they feel taxed and offended.

As if this is about them. God dammit, this is my pity party.

Humanity is just sooo o…



blessed are the dreamers
wandering through life
with their hearts on their sleeves
wearing their vulnerability
like a badge of honor
brazen in their celebration of freedom

blessed are the realists
charging through life
meeting lifes demands
their hearts always intact
safe beneath their hard outer selves
proud in their defiance of pain

issues of interpretation
bludgeon at our bond
wear out my patience
make you doubt my love

what goes on in our hearts and minds
is it out of our control
or is it only in our control

pick your lens
but don’t lose sight.
Of the inalienable truth.

One unshakable droplet of fact
In a vineyard of uncertainty.

It’s that whichever way you look at it.
We're both blessed.
With each other.

Sunday November 23, 2008

Some days I miss grad school. And then I remember how much I enjoyed it.

Not paying attention.
You taunt me with your idiocy.
With your notions of "education"
Your "measures" of my "intelligence"
Do nothing but fuel my irritation.
You stand while I sit.
Forcefeeding me with your
Ill prepared lectures and your unsubstantiated claims.
Masked as "education" from a Doctor.
Who are you to diagnose me?
With your concocted cures for my future.
What do you take me for?
A soul needing saving
A sponge obliviously absorbing.
Expecting me to just lay still and
gratefully lap up this crazy propaganda
Because it comes from someone who's "qualified."

I cannot muster the adjectives
To fully describe how incredulous this set up feels like.

Sitting watching you.
Nobly corrupting young minds.

It's obvious to you, me and the desks.
That this that you dare to "teach"
Is utter mediocrity.
And I refuse to listen.
So I'm not.
Not paying attention.

The future is a gift.

"You're only as good as your next performance, not your last one."

Yes, rough week at work.


Aso Sa (incomplete)

The familiar sounds of Sunday morning lure me out of my deep slumber. I can hear the neighbour husking coconuts and cutting wood for the umu, the birds and roosters insensitively piercing the peaceful dawn lull with their chorus of crows and chirps. It's barely light outside, I can see the leaves of the talie tree outside my window rustling slighting, dancing to the mild morning breeze. There's rain on the way. I can't see it yet but I can hear it the pitter patter of raindrops on nearby the tree tops, the forests playing chinese whispers to let us know that showers are on the way.

I can hear my aunty rather indelicately waking up my younger cousins to go help the neighbours with the Umu.

*Bang bang bang* she's knocking the walls downstairs, shaking the whole house. "GET UP! The food won't cook itself!"

I can hear cousin shuffling in his bed next door, squeezing out what seconds of sleep he can before the inevitable...

*Bang bang bang* she's at the door …

more literary vomit

what f*cking good is it!?

what good are thoughts of care
if they are not expressed

what good are dreams of greatness
if you seem content with less

what good are words of comfort
if spoken out of duty

what good is giving up your all
with no fair reciprocity

what good is it to speak of hope
if deeply you despair

what good is it to find success
and have no-one to share

what good is it to cry for help
and be misunderstood

what good are opportunities
that you didn't take but could

what good is it to talk it out
if nobody hears a thing

what good is exploring new ideas
if to old ways you will cling

what good is seeing potential in one
that they themselves can't see

what good is trying to improve something
that just wants to be.

my solace

there was i
so young yet so jaded
my heart burnt and scarred
seared shut
by mis-givings of the past
adamant only in my withdrawal
from matters of the heart

and there was you
burdened yet hopeful
despite your harsh realities
riding through life on your bike
seeking simple pleasures
your h…

Of books and beauty

One of the best book I’ve read in a while. Actually, the only book I’ve read in a while.

The Girl in Times Square, by Paullina Simons.

Aside from having a decent plot, characters, themes and twists in this book, this writer is just amazingly talented with her prose. Particularly her description of peoples thoughts and emotions, character’s reflections about life, family, their hardships and joys, they’re intensely personal and real.

Just thought I’d share that.

Here’s a favourite conversation from the book:

"I'm telling you, something happens to beautiful people. The think that something extra is owed to them by life, by God, by all the people around them. They think their life has to be better, more dramatic, happier-in color, not black and white."

"Everyone wishers their life were happier."

"No not like beautiful people. They walk this earth, their chin up to the rest of us, and think that great happiness, great love, great joy is their right and their pre…

Sleepy prose

Fia moe

Sleep escapes me, as I toss in the heat.
Unable to extinguish my blasted awakedness.
My thoughts burn the midnight oil
Set alight by change
By fear. By hope. By stuff.
Fuel to the fire.
My mind ablaze, refusing to digress.
Frustration fans the flames.
Feels like a fix is forbidden.
My tiresome body unable to find redress
In the comforts offered by my oscillating fan.
Noisily exerting it's presence about the room.
It's posture is impeccable in it's perfectly timed rotation.
A cunning disguise for it's Made in China fan blades.
That are barely causing a stir in the humid midnight air.
What a waste of 85 tala.

Home sweet Samoa.

It's great to be home. Love being around the family again, the laughs and the headaches. And of course, all that home cooked goodness everywhere you go. It's no wonder Samoa's health system is strained under the weight of high cholestorol and diabetes. All the bloody luau and fasi povi masima. Which I'm not above, I'll add. So I've taken it all in. The food comas, the horrid pronounciation on radio and TV, the greasy lunch hours, the humid uncompromising heat, the stories about the neighbours son's wife being lazy and useless, the coke in glass bottles and the mosquitoes. Remnants of SPG regalia still pepper the streets of Apia, the traffic snaking around looking slightly confused with RHD vehicles trickling in. Yes I'm taking it all in, and rolling around in it.

So I've been home for a week now, and it's been quite a week swinging (as things do with me) between elation and misery. I was pretty confident that I could come home and just slip bac…

We are Samoa...

Here's a drunken entry from last week...

So I'm up at 5am, painfully aware of why I've sworn off vodka so many times.

Relapse is a bitch.

Since I'm up. I figured, I might as well document how I got to this auspicious morning.

Yesterday his Highness Tui Atua Tupua Tamasese Tupuola Efi, Head of State of Samoa graced our campus, yet again, with his presence. I saw him speak and was again, greatly moved by the man. He spoke of his job being to nurture the soul of the Samoan nation. He spoke of his work as a preservation of the essences of being Samoan, the core values (of respect, of reciprocity, of harmony within and amongst ourselves and with our environment and the cosmos... ioe, deep ah). He spoke of maintaining those essences and finding balance and context within the modern world. I had to keep reminding myself that this is not a hippie or a struggling artist or a clairvoyant talking to me about nurturing the soul and finding a balance within the cosmos, this is the He…

Tracy Chapman lyric

You've got a fast car. But is it fast enough so we can fly away.

Saviour, my ass.

So my thesis defense went well. I passed. :) It kind of went like this.

I presented. My committee drilled me. Then passed me. And I jumped for joy. "Yay, I'm a Master. Hurrah. Hurrah. Woopy Do Dee Da." This lasted all of about five minutes when my committee said "Well, hold on a minute. Not quite. First do these revisions" *rolls out list the size of the goddamn mother fucking Nile.*

Excuse the profanity, but it's the only way to describe how short lived my blissful "Congrats you've passed your Masters defense" moment was.

They build this defense up to be the culmination of two years of your bloody hard work. Which, in case you didn't read my previous post, was kinda rough. And then they pass you only to bombard you with more work. It's like after winning a boxing match, the ref takes a cheap shot below the belt, and demands that you run a hundred laps before you can take your winnings home.

However. Underneath all the bitchy complainin…

Watermelon anyone?

It's the day before my defense. Watermelon for breakfast today. I needed something fresh today. That, and I've already ingested all the of caffeine within 5 miles of Honolulu.

Um, jitters anyone?

Suffice to say, it's been a testing week.

Okay I lie, to say this week has been "testing" is like a malnourished Englishman named Charles, upon waking up damn near frostbitten on a Winter morning, saying something like "tis rather nippy, isnt it lovey?"

"Uhhhh. YES Charles. Check you dick isn't frozen because it's FUCKING COLD."

Of course, an inevitable consequence is that I have been swaying between being a tearful wreck and then hyper extroverted with a false sense of confidence (more than usual). Yes, my bipolar tendencies have been on overdrive this week thrashing me about with it's two faced ugliness. Scary, I know. Tip 1 - Wear dark glasses. Tip 2 - Pills help (just kidding).

On top of this being the most ridiculously emo week of my life, …



I don't feel like working this afternoon and because I believe in democracy, I'm not going to. Instead I am posted up on my bed, guiltlessly surfing the internet and wondering if I'll ever grow up enough to not be at the mercy of my whims.

Ah, some day.

Instead let me share some more of my incessant collection of depressing poetry while I ponder my fate.

This one's profoundly entitled,


Enveloped in the darkness of night
Nothing but the sound of the rotating fan and intermittent traffic
To permeate the dinning in my head
The intense beating of my heart
It hurts
As though it could jump right out of my chest and pulse before me
Bloody and bulging

Enveloped in the darkness of night
The rickety fan creating a chill in the room
I hear myself breathe
Slow and measured
Sucking in gulps of air
As if to remind myself, that I'm not dead.
I'm just...
Enveloped in the darkness of night.

July 11, 2008

Cheery, huh?

So I can barely walk.

In an incredibly wise move during a Sunday afternoon game of touch, I completely misread the distance between myself and a brick wall and yep, you guessed it, ran smack into, almost dislodging my knees in the process. There was blood. Bruised bones. And this morning, an old lady overtook me on the sidewalk as I waddled along like a retarded constipated cripple. The usual 5 minute stroll to my office taking me no less than twenty minutes.

Yes, they don't call me Serevi for nothing.

Aside from over estimating my athletic abilities, this weekend has been productive. My ruse of thesis is finally materialising into a document I wouldn't cringe to put my name on. Thank you Jesus. It was relatively painless once I got over that bout of lazy-shitedness I had. Really, I should credit the advice of a great friend who wrote to me in response to my insistence that I was meditating and praying to the Gods of Good Writing to grant me an epiphany:

"no wonder your thesis is dragging ass…

Coz we all need one, sometimes.



shift your focus woman
from being perceived
and how you perceive
and just perceive
the glorious richness
to infiltrate your senses
the curves
the pungent
the stark
the warmth
the big picture
shift your focus

Post 300

Thank God for Small Victories

Finishing off the last of ten hours and days worth of interview and focus group transcripts and chunks of the analysis.Receiving a copy of your published book chapter in the mail.Running eleven laps after barely making 8 the day before.
Beautiful weather.

Pray to God for help in Small Challenges

Quality writing in the remaining 50 pages of your thesis and maintain your sanity.Doing above point in prescribed deadline of two weeks and maintain your sanity.Notice the beautiful weather.Maintain your sanity.

Panic Haiku


Stressed out.

Deadlines closing in.

Pissy at nothing and everything.

Snappy. Retorts. Sleepless. Bored. Angry. Stressssed.

False sense of confidence. Vapourised.

LOTS of work undone.

D a m n i t.



"We're gonna make it."

Look into my oyes...

Now send me money! lol

Mindless chatter

It's the first Sunday of July. The word that comes to mind is - Already?! Been on the blog a fair bit lately, which of course, only means I have lots of "real" work piling while I prioritize talk about far more important things like mediocre attempts at poetry, my alcohol tolerance, and feeling fat. On the up side of life my fiber levels are stupendously high now so NOW I only have to quit drinking and then my tummy aches will disappear completely!

So lately my alcohol tolerance has kind of gone to the dogs. It's to my shameful dismay when I find myself feeling woozy after the second glass, as of recent. This is quite unsettling given the self deduced fact that only my entire identity evolves around my drinking. I'm usually more of a second bottle of Jack kind of gal. Or second half of the night. Never second drink. Even when I first started drinking as a teen, eagerly devouring cheap vodka with Fanta as my ticket to acceptance in high school cliques, even th…

Memoir of a Tongan Lady

The soft wrinkles on her face creased gently as she spoke, personifying her wisdom. Her eyes glinted and she paused intermittently to stop herself from bursting into laughter as she told the story of her younger days. Her voice was deep and strong with a firm British Tongan accent about it.

Sister Pele was a nun, but I never called her sister. And she was a full nun with the uniform and everything, but oh the conversations we had... she was so funny. One evening, we were in the dining hall, I think the dining hall at USP is still the same today as it was back then in 1991, so we were eating when one boy walked in. He was quite handsome. We both looked shyly over as we ate our food, pretending not to notice him. I said to her "Pele, he's handsome. You should fix him." Pele turned to me and said "I know, he is. You should fix him for me." We both laughed and laughed to ourselves.

Ah, Pele. I always liked her because even though she's a nun. She's not a…

Tummy ache

So my doctor told me I don't have enough fiber in my diet. My initial reaction was of course,

"umm.. are you SURE?"

Since as a Samoan, our diets are generally quite carb-heavy and fiberous, by default. And trust me, the chances of me guessing I'd be an exception are about as slim as as I am in my dreams. LOL!

"Eat more fiber," she prescribed.

So, for the sake of my health ;) I've taken to her words quite enthusiastically and upp'ed the weekly intake of fiberous carbs, oh about 5 fold.

"Must eat... another sandwich... Doctor's.. orders"

Unsurprisingly, I am groaning. My stomach feels like there is a 24 hour bakery in there. And I'm tired of their produce.

Especially this weekend, having completely outdone myself with fa'alifu yesterday and today. Dripping with coconut cream of course. Add some pisupo, curry, shoyu chicken, and wahoo, it's a wonder I feel as though I'm gonna crap out a house.


Happy Sunday :)

Why I hate "Art".

I resent self proclaimed artists
With their interpretations and their subjective lenses

But why?
What for?

Am I so much of a prude that I can't get high when I smoke a joint?

Why resent?
Why not embrace?
And accept beauty in it's infinite forms

Because it's too easy
To abandon standards
And call it "Art"
"Art" should speak for itself

But what of standards?
Who creates them?
And validates them?

What does the "artist" know that ordinary me doesn't?
And who says they know it?
And what makes me any more "real" than them?

"Art" should speak for itself

But can it?

Is "Art" simply some constructed notion
Is it like, neighborhood gossip...
Just humans passing judgment?
Is it like, business cards...
Just labels to boost the human ego?

I resent the self proclaimed artist
Who speaks for their own art

Or perhaps I resent that nobody ever spoke for my art
That I never spoke for my own.


Lord, please
Pluck me off of this tear stained earth
Take me some place warm and dry
And renew me
Wring the fatigue out of my earthly bones
And restore me
Hold me to your beating heart
And remind me
Kiss upon me a breath of life
And replenish me

I'm tired

And my coarse dry lips
They thirst
For rest...

New beach rule: Stay on shore.

So I'm at the beach, in my two piece (eh! lol) frolicking like I was effing Ariel swimming to the reef and back as though I'd done it at dawn and dusk for the last decade. On the swim back, I'm tired so I'm changing it up, backstroke, breaststroke, trying to work different muscles (not on purpose of course, they just don't function for extended periods of time like that). It takes me about fifteen minutes and I'm close enough to shore when I notice a guy in red Baywatch-esque gear (I'm not kidding!) on a board swim up next to me. I come up for air (panting like fucking Rosie O'Donnell on a treadmill) and he says to me:

"Ma'am are you okay? You looked like you were having some difficulty.."

Turns out he was a LIFEGUARD and in all my graceful synchronised swimming he thought I was drowning.


Lorrrrrrd have mercy!

I like this song.

She's Mine.
By Brett Dennen

well the witches stare with their limbs akimbo
silhouettes of statues up in the window
call me to come here with a crooked crescendo
but i don't

devotees dance among the pantomime on the promenade
into a tabernacle on the lawn
but i don't follow

because she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, all mine
yeah she's mine, mine, mine, mmm

midnight moved across the people's park
and i fled the fire like a spinning spark
up onto a porch in the dark
she was waiting right there for me

she knows that my hands are empty
as i go past the mothers of envy
and i don't have to fumble in the dark for my keys

i believe she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, all mine
yeah she's mine, mine, mine, mmm

the pupils gather in the yard
around the pulpit made of cards
and waited for their leader's words
but his words didn't make much sense

his mouth spat out a fist of daggers
and his tongue swirled in a southern swagger
and i looked at all the people gathe…

Imeem: An effing decent waste of time

You need a decent connection but this is one of the best music websites I've come across. You can listen, see related, create playlists even download songs through here fairly easily. No need to download anything. Easy to navigate and FREE!

Thesis Rant

Can't bring myself to work on it right now but can't stop thinking about it either so here I am in here to bash out the last of it lingering like a bad taste in my mouth, so I can just get on with enjoying my weekend.

Essentially what I'm looking at is competition in telecommunications in Samoa. I'm looking at whether the de-regulation of communications as resulted in improved telecommunications services to the country ( < Research Question 1). Secondly, recognising that competition, while a fairly simple premise (make the whole thing a sport and it should 1) result in improved overall skill and results and 2) weed out the losers) is a fairly complex process that involves several stakeholders, often with conflicting interests e.g. Telecommunications service providers (the digicels, samoatels, CSLs and iPasifikas of the world), Government (being the dude that sets the rules), The Office of the regulator (being the enforcer of the rules - the referee if you like) and …

Sui so'o!

Felt like it.

Pule lava a'u.


The time I said "No, I'm just fat" and meant it, like, vehemently.

In response to being asked, quite seriously, whether I was "with child?"

And this was just after I had worked out for about 2 hours that day.

Needless to say, I needed a milkshake right after that.

You know, cravings.

Random thought

*Pauses from thesis writing*

On pondering what the great truths in life are - Is there a God? - To what extent do I believe in "Him"? - it occurred to me that ascertaining what "the truth" is, is secondary to the more important question of how you choose to allow that truth to affect or (if you dare) transform you.

The true value of believing is that it's much less about discovering the belief than it is about discovering the believer.

That's it.

*Back to thesis writing*

Rock my world, please.

Nothing like some rock in the morning to.. well, rock in the morning. The lyrics are tight.

Rock on.


Give two answers

What is the best feeing in the world?
1. To love and be loved
2. Eating umu. lol

At your best you are:
1. Self-less
2. Feeding the hungry. lol

At your worst you are:
1. Controlling
2. Hungry. lol

As a child what motivated you?
1. Over-bearing parents. lol
2. Being smarter than the white kids in my class. LMAO

Today, what motivates you?
1. Personal desire to improve life.
2. And of course, improving my means to buy awesome shoes.

Which famous person inspires you?
1. Mandela & Ghandi- Fighting for a principle.
2. Oprah - think what you will about the woman, but she's a billionaire.

Name a famous person you admire.
1. Imelda Marcos. Shoes... omg... shoes.
2. Chichi of Samoa - noone else I know can wear a full bouqet on her hair and pull it off.

Name a little known fact about you?
1. At 5'7, I'm the shortest person in my family.
2. I don't actually care about Polar Bears in Antarctica. LMAO. JUS KIDDING!

What's your greatest fear?
1. Living a mediocre existance.
2. Catch…

A day at the beach

Being something of a self proclaimed realist, I've never been one of those deep dreamer types that interprets my dreams much more than as an annoyance to my getting some decent rest nor would I ever claim to have some kind of profound connection with the elements, or anything for that matter, except for maybe the occasional drink or burger in my hand. Not that I don't have depth, I just express it differently and am quite blunt in the belief that a tree, is a tree, is a tree. However, having grown up around the ocean, many of my happiest memories take place at the beach. And whenever I am by the sea, wherever in the world I might be, I'm not exaggerating when I say that truly feel at home. I spent all afternoon at the beach today and spent most of my time being mesmerized by it's wild beauty. While there I found myself itching to take pictures, write something, draw in the sand, anything, to etch the scene and how it made me feel on the walls of my mind.

The sound of…

O alagaupu Samoa


Ia lafoia i le fogava‘a tele; lit., Let it be thrown on the deck of the large canoe. A depreciatory saying of a speaker.

‘O le fogava‘a e tasi, One family.

Ua iloa i va‘a lelea, Of one seldom seen.

Ua le se‘i mau se ala va‘a, Why not steer a straight course? Applied to a speech having no definite proposition.

Ua mele le manu e Afono, Afono made light of his prosperity.

E pogai i vau, a e lia‘i i ala, It grew in the bush, but it is cast away in the road.

‘O lalo ifi lenei, This is a secret; lit., This is under the chestnut tree.

‘O le puta i Tufa, Only a threat.

Tu‘u ia ma paga, In the game of tatia when counted wrongly; applied to anything not paid for.

Ua se va‘a tu matagi, Of anything quick, like a canoe before the wind.

Ua usiusi-fa‘ava‘asavili, To obey like a canoe before the wind.

Ua le se‘i seu fa‘a‘alo, To request to be respectful; lit., Why do you not steer out of the way?

Ia tala mea fa‘asolo, (of seuga-lupe), To dismiss an assembly.

Fale-taeao e le afiafi, Who sits at home…


I'm sitting in my room as I write this, enjoying the view I have of a full length volcano and the Waikiki cityscape. Supposed to be doing work of course, but not, of course.

It's the end of semester, thank goodness. Not that it was a particularly strenuous time for me or anything, but it seems somewhat inappropriate not to be relieved around this time. My time in Hawaii is drawing to a close. In a few short months I'll be done (touch wood) and it'll be a different view, a different pace, different work to avoid doing, I'm sure. This must be what this "growing up" business is all about. I wonder if that means I'll have to stop name calling. Oh, life.

I'm feeling kind of pensive, aren't I? All describing the view nostalgically like I'll never see it again. LoL Pull yourself together woman! haha.

In funnier news, I'm currently in the process of transcribing all my interviews from CEOs, Govt. Officials and business people in telecom in Sam…

Step into the world with me...


Today, I was inspired.

I hate this class.
It depresses me to my core.
If “it” can even be bothered to go that far
Trekking into the dense folds of my being
To permeate my attention span

My eyes heave around the room
Seeing tattered pieces of my "concentration"
Strewn haphazardly across the dreary gray carpet of my classroom floor
Spelling B O R E D O M

Perhaps it is the slow-death monotone of my professor’s drone
Or the annoying sheen of his forehead
As the light of the projector ricochets off it
Creating a bothersome glint
Maybe I just don't believe he knows
Whatever it is that he harps on about

Whatever “it” is
It sedates my enthusiasm
Reducing it to a lethargic scowl
That lingers in the back corner of the classroom
Impatiently taking in the lazy tick of the clock
The groaning hum of the air conditioning unit
Barely there, but stark
Amplifying the painful sound of “it”
Trembling the glass chandeliers of my sanity
Beckoning it to shatter...

God, I hate this class.



Memory Lane

While I was in Samoa, I stumbled across my old laptop where I found old pictures, assignments and poetry, all anally organised into some categorization system where I had each document and picture meticulously named and dated. Apparently, even at fifteen I was a control freak. It was quite an enjoyable Sunday afternoon that I scrolled through, smiled, laughed and cringed at the teenage angst ridden, innocent adolescent reflections of myself. Here are some snippets for your enjoyment and ridicule.

That’s the way life goes…

There are many things in life
That I don’t understand
While the hourglass of time
Fills silently with sand

I try to do my best
In all the things I do
But some just won’t accept
They disbelieve what’s true

With cold and harsh expression
They say it to my face
Yet they forget it’s my life
I’ll live it at my pace

I’m a victim of great expectations
High hopes and dreams of others
Yet my goals are all forgotten
I don’t know why I bother

I know they’re just concerned
They know what’s bes…


Friday, April 4, 2008

So I've been in Samoa for going on two weeks, and how busy I have been has been hectic, bordering on hellish. The rush of heat as I stepped of the plane was both an uncomfortable surprise and morbidly comforting like a devil feeling the warmth of the fires of hell after a long absence. At least that’s how I imagine it would feel. Lol

Coming home after 9 months away, I inhaled my surroundings and tried to fully digest this “home” I’d missed and pined for in months gone by. Things seem to have changed so much that it seemed both exciting and unsettling. Changes. Subtle ones mind you, little things here and there that amounted to a definite different big picture in my mind. Most notable change is that in infrastructure. Improvements I should say. Apia seems more manicured, more shiny buildings, wider roads and more traffic lights. It’s a little city that is bustling with traffic and busy people in an atmosphere that feel and smell like progress. Or maybe that’s j…



Exaggerate the high to belittle the low
Revel in confidence yet the fear grows
Force the smile to stifle the tear
Map thy future yet the past is unclear
Celebrate the blessing to ignore the curse
Saturated with thought but for ignorance she thirsts
A thirst for bliss
Seeking Something
That is


Tattered pieces of dream
Patiently fall
From the hopeful sky
Swirling, downwards
Spewed from the shredder
Called depression
Called expectation
Called failure
Billowing downwards
Downwards still.

No hope
Nor chance
To cheer
To redeem
Just blind acceptance
Of gravity
Of pecking order
Of the fall from grace
Just free falling
Downwards still.
At last.


So, here I am sitting at the library listening to Natalie Imbruglia, lamenting the days when I actually gave a crap about education and willfully drugged myself with caffeine and lost sleep over things like getting A's and nursing my transcript like some kind of crack whore hoarding her last fix. It's not that I don't care anymore, well, actually I don't. Ok, I lie, I'm far too neurotic to set my thesis on fire and join the circus just yet, but damn do I feel like I've been here too long.

Before this turns into a fully fledged Thesis Bashing Session. I will stop talking about how much of a complete waste of time devoid of "learning" kind of experience I feel this is. AND, I'm not lazy, I'm just incredibly un-interested. Really.

Instead, I'll turn my flimsy attention to the miserable souls that surround me in this library. Funny girl sitting across from me at the next table. Keeps stretching and making "hello, I know you" eyes at m…

Ti'eti'e pasi

I wonder about the girl on the bus. The one near the back, with the dark eyes and the tear stained face. She gazes out at ongoing traffic, a distant look on her tired face, a silent dispair shines in her eyes as wet streaks trickle from beneath her damp lashes. Her body is still, wilted and unaffected by the hustle and bustle of the awakening city around her. I wonder what happened to her. I wonder why the tears, so early in the morning and why the searching look in her eyes. Perhaps she lost a loved one, a grandparent, a friend. Or maybe it's a painful anniversary and she's reliving some regretable decision or some tormenting event in painstaking detail. I watch her, I can't help it. Her eyes are wrought with dark emotion, yet her body is listless, rigid in its nothingness. She blinks as a fresh batch glistens down her cheek and she sits motionless, expressionless except for those eyes. They're shameless in their feeling, loud and soulful in their dark song to whic…

Teaseburger convo

"This cheeseburger is like, OMG, amazing!"

"It isn't "OMG amazing!" It's a cheeseburger."

"It's an OMG amazing! cheeseburger."

"No it's not. An "OMG amazing!" cheeseburger is one that has you salivating at the sight, eager to taste. Your senses quivering, aching to experience the flavours and juices that will no doubt erupt in your body. And afterwards, your world is in a daze. Disoriented, shaken by what just was.

That's an OMG amazing! cheeseburger."

["Pregnant" silence]

[Exhales] "You want the rest of this?"



lots on the mind
but unable
to articulate exactly what
the words are lost
entangled in the madness
of my thoughts
that keep me up
yet I can't explain
what they're about
or why they keep me up
just that they're there
and there's lots of them
overflowing on to my face
brimming with thoughts
that i cannot attribute meaning to
the communications major
unable to relay the message
oh bittersweet irony
they aren't thoughts.
they're feelings.
that can't be explained.
but only felt.
for no reason other than
to remind you of your ability
to feel.
perhaps I’m over analyzing.
Yes, perhaps.

Black and white bead art


The great scholarship search.

Today I spent the entire day watching TV and searching for scholarships online. Yes, I just threw in the second part of that sentence to make it seem like I actually did something productive today despite the fact that I didn't set foot outside. In my defense, I did have a shower today. But I didn't wash my hair. The scholarship search turned up quite a few things though. There are competitive grants for everything from Biomedical engineering geniuses to smiling competitions []. America is a land riddled with opportunity but with a people far too spoiled to realise just how lucky they are in terms of the sheer amount of choices they have out there. Seriously. Lots of scams, sure, comes with the territory, but compared to most other places in the world I'd imagine, American streets are littered with choices.

Anyways, I'm rambling. Sweet as I am, I don't really care about the attitude of the American people.

So, I have this presentation I'm working on…


there are days when your head just spins. for no reason other than, life is just getting to you. it's not the bills, its not work, or period pain, or the fact that your team lost or someone you had counted on has deserted you, its not the rain, its not the cold, its just, life. You know, it just bites some days. For no reason other than to create a break between the good days when everything makes sense. the days when you are able to smile in the face of adversity, the days that you can function fine despite shitty weather, backwards politics and bad driving. bad days provide funk, rhythm and tempo to the happy song you hum each day. on the days when you see the silver lining and are the wind beneath people's wings. the days where good triumphs over evil and love conquers all. yes, its just a break from your disgustingly sunny disposition. on some days, on those days, you just spin, because you're having a shitty day but you'd rather not inconvenience someone else wit…


January is closing up, February will fly by and next thing you know, it will be 2012, which will be the end of the world as predicted by the Mayan Calendar. Ha! My point being, time is flying. School is three weeks deep, nope, don't feel like I'm learning yet, but such is the fact that time is ticking and the new smell has worn off the no longer new year. I'm doing one class, which may not sound like a lot but it's a "futures studies" class (don't ask) plus I'm supposed to write a couple of hundred pages in my spare time, so in actual unfortunate fact, I actually do have to wake up in the morning.

About two weeks ago I attended PTC'08 - annual Telecom conference held in Honolulu - the personal equivalent of Disneyland for Telecom enthusiasts. Comparing it to last year's conference, I got a lot more out of this one, perhaps because I wasn't so awe-struck at being surrounded by some fricken cool people/ gadgets and could utter more than a du…

24 Questions

I turned 24 this week. I think birthdays stop getting fun after 21, which I can't say was particularly memorable either. lol. Influx of love on the day always makes me feel special, let that be said. My siblings think I'm old, but then, they always have. It never helps that I regulate like an embittered Nazi when I'm home. :) Miss those punks. To spare any more nonsensical musings, here's some mindless post birthday reflective spiel.

24 Questions After your 24th Birthday...
1. Name 2 Blessings.
a. Supportive parents who lecture me like crazy but have ultimately let me make my own choices.
b. Friends who remind me that no matter how crazy I think I am getting, there are always crazier people in the world. Love them!

2. What's your greatest achievement?
My relationship with my siblings.

3. What was the highlight of the past year?
Probably all the travel. [Upolu, Savaii, Auckland, Wellington, Honolulu, Big Island, New York, DC]

4. What was the worst thing about the past year?