Fate it seems.
I open my eyes
I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light
I can't remember how
I can't remember why
I'm lying here tonight
And I can't stand the pain
And I can't make it go away
No I can't stand the pain
How could this happen to me
I've made my mistakes
Got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me
Everybody's screaming
I try to make a sound but no one hears me (thank god)
I'm slipping off the edge
I'm hanging by a thread
I wanna start this over again
So I try a time when nothing mattered
And I can't explain what happened
And I can't erase the things that I've done
No I can't
How could this happen to me
I've made my mistakes
Got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me
I've made my mistakes
Got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me
i remember even all had been said and done, i still held this small glimpse of hope that maybe despite our dismal performance we had done enough to move on to the next stages where we'd be given the chance to redeem ourselves.
we lost.
desicively, convincingly.
even i knew that. i just refused to admit the fact that maybe even we at the quats were fallable.
i just wanted to pack my stuff and go home than. the reality that this might well be my last deabte was too much for any outward expression to hold.
we went to marche, clowned around; our most natural smiles found its way on our faces once more.
At this point of time, i can rant for all i want, and the things as of now, will remain the things they are.
but of course, i will rant. just not here. scroll down to tuas if you really want to know waht happened.
what i will say in a public blog tho, is thank you.
mark for the busstop talks and rj for believing that we didnt really deserve this. its nice to know ppl believ in you. and annabel as well, for the consolation. C=
Ilona and Robin, Kenneth as well as the gongjiao juniors for their support thru-out the damned thing.
yeah, ultimately, thank you team vjc 05, you've really been a great team to work with. aside from the titles and stuff, i must say we had hell lot of fun off the floor. righto?
sigh, but in spite of all that, inevitably, we all couldnt hide from the truth. the fire that we once held in our voices, the same fire that talked about redemption, vicotry, summoning the wrath of God etc that fire seemed extinguished beyond a state of non-existance.
Robin had once said this :
A forgettable journey that we shall all hold dear.
I never was a big fan of oxymorons; they always struck me as typical Shakespearean snobbishness, something I have always had an aversion to. However, now, as I sit before this computer, stoic and crestfallen, having gone through the ignominy of an acrimonious defeat, no other phrase seems as apt.
To any outsider, debating would probably seem like a bunch of pseudo-intelligent mumbo-jumbo, and to a certain extent it may be. However, only one who has immersed himself into a debate and committed an unreal amount of time to it, can truly pinpoint the intangibles behind what keeps us going back, again and again, ad nauseam.
indeed.
and to think the heat has yet to fully set in, or rather, i refuse to let it get the better of me.
maybe a year down, while admist typing my history essay, i might find myself vulnerable to emotional attack and thus coming back to this and deciding to than fully encript a proper entry on a Microsoft Document. if the Microsoft Document can handle the all-consuming-rawness of its emotions.
but till than, i shall rant in a private place.
I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light
I can't remember how
I can't remember why
I'm lying here tonight
And I can't stand the pain
And I can't make it go away
No I can't stand the pain
How could this happen to me
I've made my mistakes
Got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me
Everybody's screaming
I try to make a sound but no one hears me (thank god)
I'm slipping off the edge
I'm hanging by a thread
I wanna start this over again
So I try a time when nothing mattered
And I can't explain what happened
And I can't erase the things that I've done
No I can't
How could this happen to me
I've made my mistakes
Got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me
I've made my mistakes
Got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me
i remember even all had been said and done, i still held this small glimpse of hope that maybe despite our dismal performance we had done enough to move on to the next stages where we'd be given the chance to redeem ourselves.
we lost.
desicively, convincingly.
even i knew that. i just refused to admit the fact that maybe even we at the quats were fallable.
i just wanted to pack my stuff and go home than. the reality that this might well be my last deabte was too much for any outward expression to hold.
we went to marche, clowned around; our most natural smiles found its way on our faces once more.
At this point of time, i can rant for all i want, and the things as of now, will remain the things they are.
but of course, i will rant. just not here. scroll down to tuas if you really want to know waht happened.
what i will say in a public blog tho, is thank you.
mark for the busstop talks and rj for believing that we didnt really deserve this. its nice to know ppl believ in you. and annabel as well, for the consolation. C=
Ilona and Robin, Kenneth as well as the gongjiao juniors for their support thru-out the damned thing.
yeah, ultimately, thank you team vjc 05, you've really been a great team to work with. aside from the titles and stuff, i must say we had hell lot of fun off the floor. righto?
sigh, but in spite of all that, inevitably, we all couldnt hide from the truth. the fire that we once held in our voices, the same fire that talked about redemption, vicotry, summoning the wrath of God etc that fire seemed extinguished beyond a state of non-existance.
Robin had once said this :
A forgettable journey that we shall all hold dear.
I never was a big fan of oxymorons; they always struck me as typical Shakespearean snobbishness, something I have always had an aversion to. However, now, as I sit before this computer, stoic and crestfallen, having gone through the ignominy of an acrimonious defeat, no other phrase seems as apt.
To any outsider, debating would probably seem like a bunch of pseudo-intelligent mumbo-jumbo, and to a certain extent it may be. However, only one who has immersed himself into a debate and committed an unreal amount of time to it, can truly pinpoint the intangibles behind what keeps us going back, again and again, ad nauseam.
indeed.
and to think the heat has yet to fully set in, or rather, i refuse to let it get the better of me.
maybe a year down, while admist typing my history essay, i might find myself vulnerable to emotional attack and thus coming back to this and deciding to than fully encript a proper entry on a Microsoft Document. if the Microsoft Document can handle the all-consuming-rawness of its emotions.
but till than, i shall rant in a private place.