Christie

Hi. I'm Christie.
This is my first time writing here, so I shall tell you a bit about myself 'cause you'll be seeing me writing in here, anyway.
When I'm sad I write a lot of poems. Actually I write poems basically when I'm just not feeling that wonderful. Yeah.
I like music, but Music's not my art form at school. It's Visual Arts, so yes, I like to draw too. I don't really like to be forced to do something I don't like or want to do. Which is why I don't enjoy studying Chinese because I don't speak Chinese to anyone except my Chinese teacher, write or read it, apart from Chinese class. I also don't like Maths because I reckon it's a waste of time if it's non-applicable.
I am good at withstanding most tickles. I used to study in Australia and I'm going back there when I graduate from SOTA (unless of course, circumstances change this). I love movies and cats. I adore photography and hugs. I am a Christian too, but I suppose you already figured that out from my name.
I think I become sad very easily. I think I think too much, 'cause my brother and Aqilah and Bennett keep telling me not to think so much. It ruins my sleep at night and my childhood. Oh, oh, I refuse to fall in love. Influence by books and movies and peoples' stories. It just ruins your sleep and childhood too. I value my sleep and my childhood, thanks. So yes, I don't really appreciate being kept up too late at night. Mmm, I think I have written too much.

And so, in honour of my first post, I shall present to you folks a poem I have just created before writing all of the above. Bon appetit :)


Is there something more to this world of tears,
to these empty gazes each day,
these souls' windows are brimming over with
unspoken words, locked up hurts, withheld thoughts
that leave their bodies broken and so alien?

I see the ghosts of their tears,
the way they look at us
and I know that they hang on to their fears.
I know they feel
like they can trust no one
the past reappears within their thoughts;
invades their daydreams like a silent thief
and holds their tongue hostage so that they,
our friends,
will not share with us their problems in any way.

I have been to their world,
once upon a grey and torn time.
Even I stumble into this same world unaware;
and I can only say for sure
is that though everyone might have been there,
to find one who brings us back is indeed rare.