flyfreebird

2007-01-05T12:47:00.000+08:00

lil' Ghetto Princess

***

'(Look, I am living. On what? Neither childhood nor future/ grows any smaller...Superabundant being/ wells up in my heart.)

"Kiss me,' Clare says, and I turn to her, white face and dark lips floating in the dark, and I submerge, I fly:

being wells up in my heart'

~ Time Traveler's Wife, Audrey Niffenegger

2007-01-03T12:55:00.000+08:00

She said I don't know why you ever would lie to me
Like I'm a little untrusting when I think that the truth is
Gonna hurt ya
And I don't know why you couldn't just stay with me
You couldn't stand to be near me
When my face don't seem to want to shine
Cuz it's a little bit dirty well

~ Push, Matchbox Twenty

***

Angel!
If there were a place that we didn’t know of, and there,
on some unsayable carpet, lovers displayed
what they never could bring to mastery here- the bold
exploits of their high-flying hearts, their towers of pleasure, their ladders
that have long since been standing where there was no ground, leaning
just on each other, trembling, -and could master all this,
before the surrounding spectators, the innumerable soundless dead:

Would these, then, throw down their final, forever saved-up,
forever hidden, unknown to us, eternally valid
coins of happiness before the at last genuinely smiling pair on the gratified carpet?

~ Rilke

2006-12-29T17:19:00.000+08:00

A good-friend-turned-colleague is a rare find.
You find lunchtime a scary affair, afraid of the noise you may find yourself churning out when timid mouse becomes you whilst you play the role of the office rat during working hours. Make that - Very Afraid.
We irritate each other with dubious visitations. And random emails.

Me disturbing her:

“wherefore art thou climbing thy dwellingcase with thy beloved shaslinda?

thy deluge of language upon such as myself hast caused thy beloved to macam become confused liddat.

methinks my language abilities suddenly not very pro.
need a walking-a-thon break.”

And she goes..

Her infamous ode to Today-The-Last-Friday-Of-The-Year-So-It’s-Pig-Out-Day:

“Oh chocolat chocolat
Wherefore art thou tres delicieux
Deny thy tummy and refuse thy gluttony
Or if thou wilt not,
Be but sworn my love
And I'll no longer be a detox wannabe.”

2006-12-27T13:14:00.000+08:00

When is enough ever enough? When the simple things in life eludes one, you start wishing for a simpler existence.

***

Stranger than Fiction

***

Strife is an ugly emotion.
It leaves one drained and robs one of all the ‘what-ifs’ of beautiful rainbows, psychedelic mentalscape and,feel-good-lovelove walks on one’s emotional tight-rope.

***

The School of Hard Knocks.
Some live to avoid it so much that every action, thought and emotion is predicated on Major Avoidance through a series of Disciplined Follow-Up of the turnings of one’s life. Everything has to have a logical conclusion. How boring. Chance has no hand. Free Will is an evil component. Inevitability is the order of the day – Logical Mental Theoreticizing becomes the core guide to one’s life ethos. Pride in one’s seeming acumen to project the future has only one outflow - the Projection of that exact personal vision upon others. Is that fair? It reeks of condescension.

***

Pre-emptive measures can be wise. But pre-emptive theoreticizing rooted in fear, paranoia and insecurity can be equally as destructive. There is only so much that you can pre-empt. Why and when do people start controlling the elements of their life? The answer lies in a certain fear of Something. Every action becomes calculated, every emotion in tandem with that calculated pre-judgement. There is no progression. There is no freedom in spontaneity, in second chances, in new beginnings, in breathing in new life.

Memory becomes a cursed Doppelganger, an unwelcomed yet equally non-intrusive entity, an insidious joy-killer.

Live.

***

Oh, the good life, full of fun seems to be the ideal
Mm, the good life lets you hide all the sadness you feel
You won't really fall in love for you can't take the chance
So please be honest with yourself, don't try to fake romance

It's the good life to be free and explore the unknown
Like the heartaches when you learn you must face them alone
Please remember I still want you, and in case you wonder why
Well, just wake up, kiss the good life goodbye

***

Trying your best suddenly becomes redundant. Efforts get foiled with a singular cutting look, a calculated graze in someone's heart meant to 'teach one a lesson'. In that concept of warped 'Lesson Provision', it may benefit some those who plug into such a militaristic school-of-thought. However, the free-spirited often just get pierced.

A smile is a curved line that sets things straight.

2006-12-22T12:56:00.000+08:00

Christmas is coming. I love the magical feeling. Something’s in the air, undoubtedly it is that festive air. The human mind transposes its own explanations, finds continuity in the present circumstances and deciphers its own understanding of it. I, choose to call it, Magic.

I asked God for favour last night while walking back to my rented place. It seems that my heart has been touched countless times ever since dusk, as of yesterday.

Im happiest as a lark, seeing the look on his face. Lit up. Glowing full of love.

Then in the morning, a colleague of mine gave me a Christmas present. Someone else said ‘take care of yourself’ and ‘don’t be too overworked’ knowing that most would be taking off next week and ive to finish up some stuff, and to top that up, she gave me her chocolates (im a sucker for chocs, its really my only weakness to more saturated fats coming my way this Christmas). Then my fav sliced fish stall auntie gave me an agar-agar (cos i think she ke-lian I don’t quite eat rice) (and I saw that it was her personal agar-agar)! Then jasminder made for me this cool S-shaped paper machete.

Im gonna watch the Christmas musical later on in town. I miss them. I saw passing slogans on vehicles saying that ‘He’s the Wonderful Counsellor, Prince of Peace’… in short, I want to remember that God is good, loving and all the simple truths which can light up a starved heart. A heart like a child’s. Will you protect me from the cold harsh practical realities of life?

2006-12-21T18:24:00.000+08:00

All I want is a room somewhere
Far away from the cold night air
With one enormous chair
Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?

Lots of chocolate for me to eat
Lots of coal making lots of heat
Warm face, warm hands, warm feet
Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?

Oh so lovely sitting abso-bloomin'-lutely still
I would never budge till Spring crept over the window sill

Someone's head resting on my knee
Warm and tender as she can be
Who takes good care of me
Oh, wouldn't it be lovely ?

Who takes good care of me
Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?

I thought living out of a suitcase would be easy. I thought that the axis of the world would continue to orbit as long as I simulated the past life’s version of a sanctuary. I thought that navigating through this shit would be all-righteable as long as I was settled with a roof over my head. But long are the nights. I thought I could push and shut everything out. But I can’t. I keep thinking and crying. I miss them so much. I rather be out there with the crowd than to be back at an unfamiliar place. I feel very displaced trying to suit my ways to someone unfamiliar. Sometimes I stay back at the office to push off being alone back my place. Its supposed to be home. But can you ever simulate your own version of Home without the necessary people in it? I have dinners outside, or I go shopping, Im even thinking of movies or keeping myself with my familiar libraries than to be in a simulated version of Home. I didn’t know it would turn out to be a farce. Its supposed to be a place where I rest. Where I rest my soul. But sometimes I stay back in the office and stoning doing work with my worship songs and That is Home. simple. But home at that place where you try so hard to make it one doesn’t work. Unfamiliarity. I don’t adapt very well do i? for once, this baffles me. I thought I’ve always been a master in adapting. Adept In Adapting. Pain.

Draw me to my knees
So we can talk
Let me feel Your breath
Let me know You're here with me

2006-12-21T13:07:00.000+08:00

i get moments like these - i'm walking along a semblance of the ideal place in my mind and reality gets displaced. the rush of morning air, the rising sun warming the earth after a long-drawn shower. i think of china. i think boy i need a holiday real bad its been long overdue. i think of january, the end of the deluge that's been hitting the region, and the extra bit of cash i have left after settling the rent, my nus loans and whatever necessities i need to pay off first. i think of my virgin pilgrimage of sorts to bangkok china kl koh phangan/samui, somewhere plausible.

i think that 'rigor mortis' has blocked my heart to write any piece relevant enough to be deemed wonderful and i wonder why my writing ceases to map itself to the longings of my heart. i think back on my entry in 2004 on my old blog, and it seems that deja vu has found its intimate friend in its past.

"The FlyFreeBird
i really feel like disappearing.

to somewhere away from everyone familiar, it'd be good if the place i'd fulfil my death-wish (again, this term is purely metaphorical, only known fully to me), kill myself, numb my emotions, develop healing powers and go through an intense process of rebirth. whatever's happening now (it is not purely situational/circumstantial, but encompasses multiple aspects : the emotional, the spiritual and the Blah..) - i need a distancing away from this ragged self.

i could honestly do a Bali/Tioman-sorta getaway if i had enough money. i wouldnt tell anyone at all, it'll be my own little secret. and yes, i would go there alone. i'd book my own three-star hut, look up all the varying ways of transportation, bring lotsa books, my swimming costume (no bikinis on foreign islands), sunblock and shades, my trusty little notebook to map out the rebirth of my soul, absolutely no makeup so as to remain ugly and not attract attention of local men there who would disturb this very great peace that i so desire, a paper pad so that i can write to my beloved friends about the little bits and scraps of insight/epiphanies that i have gained on this solitary tour, develop a sense of lightheartedness, humour and a carefree spirit by the end of the week and notice a fellow male traveller who is also on his solitary pilgrimage to higher states of being and we would talk, debate, enlighten ourselves on each other's various life-stories, indulge in politics, religion, literature, good films, human dynamics, music that soothe our souls and we would talk and talk in between two to three successive moonlights and maybe we would hold hands and lie on each other's shoulders because of the superb connection that we have established. but this is where i toe my line and this is my individual pilgrimage and with my newly acquired sense of humour and non-seriousness, i would say, thank you for sharing a part of yourselves and adding a sweet measure of your soul to myself but i must get back to myself and this level of reality is only temporal and unique to this period of time and place and this part of myself that you have come to know would cease to exist and my other selves which belong to my beloved friends and family back home has to resurface and realign itself once again. and if i should not meet a fellow traveller to indulge in once the week is over and my social self feels the need to re-emerge, i would rely on my individual resources to have imaginary conversations with myself and with the One Above and maybe buy a discman and listen to all that jazz and dance at night along the beach barefooted alone and develop a child-like inner poetic spirit and be daring and brave to pass quoted poems to fellow hut/hotel neighbours during dinner (by the beach, the sort where they'll barbecue for you on the spot whilst you take in the sea breeze) and i would recommend them my favorite poets and poems and writers with phrases that would stab right into their hearts (oh, i would approach only solitary beings. no families, no couples. only like-minded/situational souls) and if they resist conversation, i would go away still knowing that its a Pay-It-Forward World. then after two weeks, i'd return home, call up my friends for the individual dinner dates and allow them to delve through the many individuals i've met, and if none, allow them to see that i've re-emerged a much happier soul with the various new perspectives and understandings that i've acquired. and in the midst of the confines of my own sanctuary, say to myself, you've done good sha, for the experience lies in the very depths of my being and i know that i can go on to higher heights of adventures in life, that i will wait for no one to see me through the things i very much wish to accomplish, that change is ever-possible if you're ever stuck in a rut. like now.

i could really do with a Flyfreebird.
its wonderful where the human mind can take us.
the powers of our imagination is indeed able to provide the sort of ekstasis that you desire to transport you to another realm.
the physical reality and the imagination, once it is allowed a symbiotic relationship, one propelling the other to greater heights, can do your wonders in your life."

Posted on 22.11.2004 at 4:16 AM

Work-Play Balance

2006-12-15T12:09:00.000+08:00

2006-12-14T16:16:00.000+08:00

A montage plays in my mind's eye as i listen to Tanto Tiempo by Axel Krygier. The world beckons to me in all its fragmented ways, realities and lives. I play the the lizard's repose - the chameleon blending in the background, watching everything about me whirl about in its complex, chaotic interplay.The only way to save my own skin without getting caught up with yet I didnt know how. It's been a difficult three months. My coping methods baffle many, especially those closest to me. Communal grieving processes frighten me so. I am not comfortable wearing Emotion close to my skin.

The only way to cope, growing up, was to pretend Nothing Bad exists. The room becomes one's sanctuary. The shoutings, the cussing, her helplessness, his loneliness - we grew up showing the world it was fine and dandy, no emotional lashing could touch us. And only then did it become reality for us - we seeked the creation of an alternate reality in the midst of the hovering Big Bang.

In my own solitary moments i let out - the pain, estrangement, loss, seething anger, shame. Many were afraid to leave me alone - they project their easy fears of me sinking into depression, estimating their own 'normal' reactions to situations such as mine. Some chided me for being alone, suspicious that i cried myself to death. Crowd me and I play the part of the rising phoenix that rises from its ashes. I've burnt myself, time and time again, as well as many around me. People making decisions for me, pressurizing me by projecting the direction of my life from that incident on.

The Rebirth. Judgement came upon me as I withdrew. I started to suspect that there must indeed be a method to this madness. Suspecting that people followed the ethos that there is a method to God. Is there and should there be one? Must I be someone holy, make something of myself before i am allowed that open line to God? Do the confused, heartbroken and mortal who knows the only way to cope is to be left alone and who doesnt want humans to deal and proffer advice in proxy, in askance for the only one who will be able to address these inner issues, be denied and deemed unworthy of God? In being mortal, and in being utterly scared - the refrain of Freedom in Him and Let the Joy of the Lord be your Strength sounds empty. I am veryveryvery mortal-ed. I find myself reassessing the meaning of such statements, letting them be My Reality. Wondering again in light of everything what That means.

Practical issues strike me first nowadays. I am not as carefree as i used to be. Worrywort fart becomes me. 'Give it all to God' -- okay. But how to give it all when i get the suspicion that there is a method to Him?

I want to rebond my hair. I want a camera. But i havent even washed my bedsheets to settle down in. I have clothes strewn all over. I havent even bought my duvet cover.I have moved out, in, out, in, out and now in again, finally. The Return To Normalcy. All in 3 fine months. Deal with that, and I am left physically tired and emotionally drained. But the tides' gone, and I am settling in. I love the new place despite a ngiau flatmate. My dream place actually, across the beach and opposite the library. When i viewed this place, she said ' I hope you have peace once you're here' and she actually told me, after i finally revealed to her my situation, that she wanted to let me go because Malay = Muslim but something prompted her into feeling that this house was a refuge for me. The wonderful thing was, after viewing her place that time, for once there was a peace in my heart and i accepted it straightaway. In such instances, God reveals Himself i am so thankful for even tho i am mere mortal. I was getting very very down because I have viewed likek close to 10-12 places and having to juggle work, people and the turmoil shit.

Work has been a stabilising factor - the comfort of a routine, pretending the lives people lead are normal and basking in that normalcy. The Math titles are driving me crazy but the cycle's coming to an end and i think they're gonna heap upon me the science and humanities titles, which i am glad for. I enjoy this job a lot :)

She's been in hospital for a faint and i cant even see her. The calls to the workplace have ceased. Last i heard, he has aggressive depression. I think the _ has a gf now and i am glad for that companionship that he seeks cos she seems like a nice girl. I dont' talk much about j. but i can't help but think that this boy is a delight at the end of the day, even tho' ive initiated countless breakups with him. we have gone thru so much shit sometimes we dont even know where to start dissecting but im hoping this phoenix doesn't continue to burn any longer.

Christmas. I remember last Christmas. Always with the Calvarites, dinners made with love at Ps Daph's. To date, this will be my third real Christmas.

I set up a Christmas tree for him. He loves it i know :) I am coming out of the hellhole and reclusivity. I am beginning to smile more often. There is a delight in my heart. I still miss. but i know that all is well. I am beginning to allow myself to be more transparent with those closer to me, to depend on them a bit more instead of pushing them aside. It's very simple - I want to be purely happy. I havent had that untainted joy for a very long time. I don't want to be overwhelmed anymore by the practical issues of life cos i dont do that very well, the whole handling of practical issues.

Love After Love

2006-12-14T13:18:00.000+08:00

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

~ Derek Walcott

2006-11-28T16:06:00.000+08:00

I've been so happy since I walked away
I never thought
that I could feel as great as I do today
'Cause you
were nothing but a big mistake
And life is wonderful, now
that I'm rid of you

Oh I must have been crazy to
have stayed with you
I can't believe I thought I was
in love with you
But now the scales have fallen I can
really see
And I say go to hell, 'cause that's
where you took me

Well, I've felt better since I
slammed that door
You always cramped my style, I never
noticed before
It's been a non-stop party since I flew
the coop
I can't believe I fell for such a loser like
you

And is it any wonder that I felt so blue
When I was always having to put up with you

Oh,
here we go again, just lay the blame on me
Don't say
another word, 'cause sweetheart, you're history

I know that you miss me really, bet you wish that you
still had me
You'll never find someone like me but
I've got no regrets at all

Because I've met
this girl and she's so good to me
She's really
beautiful, fantastic company
And, when I'm with her I
realise what love can be
Because she's fifty times the
person you'll ever be

Good luck, mister, do you
think I care?
Since you've been gone the offers have
been everywhere
I've got a million guys just lining up
for me
I've turned a corner, boy, my life is
ecstasy

Well, I've been in heaven since I walked
away
I never thought that I could feel as great as I do
today
'Cause you were nothing but a waste of space
And life is wonderful now that I'm over you

Over
you

(Ciao by Beautiful South)

Office-ial Goals (Pun Fully Intended)

2006-11-22T11:42:00.000+08:00

Haha. Its not just a case of Certified Nerds we have here in this orange building ;)

'Dear friends,

A good afternoon to you. Being the good and helpful colleagues that we are, it is imperative that from time to time, we give of ourselves for the betterment of the bigger good. Our CME counterparts are in dire need of photographs that bring out the essence of teamwork, and as standard operating procedures in his great company, would like to keep costs low....in order to boost our bonuses and payraises.

So the plan is this: tomorrow at lunchtime, a group of guys will be playing soccer at the nearby basketball court, whilst a group of gals will be playing frisbee in the adjoining field. Snapshots would be taken randomly and freely, at any instance where our CME experts detect some semblance of teamwork. The session should take 30mins or thereabouts.

You are cordially invited to be part of this fun and meaningful activity, which would increase health, camaraderie and our pay packets. Please register your interest and enthusiasm soonest possible, and do feel free to forward this email to others in the company, as long as we don't get so many it seems like a fire drill at the basketball court instead. Thanks for your kind attention, dear comrades.'

Ain't Life a Circus and We're all mere Clowns?

2006-11-13T11:50:00.000+08:00

Poetry In Motion

2006-11-10T17:07:00.000+08:00

2006-11-10T13:58:00.000+08:00

2006-11-08T09:36:00.000+08:00

In the midst of kittycat wars that is happening to one of my closest friends, i realise that this week has shown myself to be culpable of stepping on the toes of others when push comes to shove. I realise that I am very protective of people close to me. It drives me mad to see strangers who judge, who react, who project their own issues onto innocent parties. But that very streak in me turns upon itself when others step on mine - and it comes out tenfold, all the more because i don't verbalise my discontent until the non-tolerance level looms upon the horizon, red lights begin to blinkblink and i know i'm better off in No-Man's Land. Because injured, cornered animals lash out at everything and anything. But i will apologise after the whole tirade, I will explain myself (though that might come in a rather belated fashion) and if i don't, trust me i'll be pretty remorseful for being harsh. And if i love you, i will make it up by surprising you when you least expect it.

In this vein, here's some 'bitchy' retorts i received in the office email that you can amuse yourself with. This place sure needs some from time to time with all sorts of third-party hagglers who refuse to meet deadlines as stipulated. Raaaah.

Thank you. We're all refreshed and challenged by your unique point of view.

The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an artist.

This isn't an office; it's hell with fluorescent lighting.

I started out with nothing and still have most of it left.

Too many freaks, not enough circuses.

Which two letters in "NO" do you not understand?

***

Your patience with me melts my heart.

'Isn't she lovely,
made from Love'

~Stevie Wonder

***

i miss you, you notti misunderstood boi.

Ways To Negotiate Your Way Around Maths; The Smarty Pants Way (so now the kids wear the pants now huh?)

2006-11-07T15:05:00.000+08:00

2006-11-03T15:29:00.000+08:00

2006-11-03T08:31:00.000+08:00

I'm much happier, chirpier, light-hearted and not weight down lately. I didnt quite realize tt until i spoke to darlingzhen. I bother to dress up a bit more. One day flightygirlylacy chic, another modern chinois, today Lolitaesque retro. My style's not being cramped. And that is just on the physical forefront. i don't need to bother feeling guilty subconsciously about parading my weakness for chocolates and having a larger-than-most appetite.

Elaine and i went to CandyEmpire. It was magical, sigh. The chocolates abound, I am so dead. In the end, i bought Belgium florentines, German wafflechocs and Willy Wonka Whipple Scrumptious Caramel Delight. Am i tantalising you? (erm with the chocolates i mean). I've yet to try Royce chocolates. I wanna be a food critic, amongst many other i-wanna-be's. Sometimes i feel like a Jack-of-All-Trades but Master-of-None. Anyway, to balance our purchases from the land-of-all-things-chocolate, we had Wasabi Prawn Salad at coffeeclub. I'm trying to have healthy shiny hair. So proteins are on my list - the oil from fatty fish mainly, salmon, tuna. And eat your veggies and fruits, they're the best things on earth besides chocolates, i-love-you-and-you-definitely-know-it hugs, all forms of loveletters from my Heart-to-Hearts, plays, films, books, musicals, God-soaking, Watson-Guardian-shopping, fantastic prose and blogs, re-reading the labels on facial products/vitamins just acquired, a good night's rest preferably by 12, japanese food, dim sum, suppers at Simpangbedok, tinkering around my cosycorner finding things to do . And lately, shopping for clothes. As in real-GIRLS-shop-till-they-drop kinda fashion. You said that i'm a late bloomer fashion-wise. Maybe, maybe :) It's also functional - ive (hohohoh) spending power at last with this job, plus well my clothes have been 'incinerated' for reasons some might be able to understand. well, another reason to have new clothes. Let's all grow moneyplants.

Grr, this sounds like your typical Friendster entries. Petrifying Zappyfying those neurons back. Recall, recall. Just ticking that mental list off my head. I could be a pain and intellectualise and twist this to say that the abovementioned quirks of mine are mere signifiers to point, to direct, to disclose, for 'easy categorisation/compartmentalisation' or pigeonholing (very Tara-speak) the person i am. anyways.

Zhen invited me (and i think shooby + tarn) to this vintage fashion show thing tonight but i've something on. So in the spirit of that, i'm wearing a flirty-fun babydoll dress complete with a headband to work today.

***

There's a lot of satisfaction seeing the manuscript you edit or the things you write go out in print. Hee.

anyway, let's tickle you with some original sent-in jokes from this kid's science mag (my name is in it as one of the editors!) ;

What do you get from a nervous cow?
- Milkshake!

What do you call an old ant?
- An antique!

What do policemen put in their sandwiches?
- Traffic jam!

haha. maybe i should collect all these jokes in my mental store and i'll be a fantastic mum reciting all these second-hand jokes and churn out a fantastic, humourous, witty kid in the process.

***

i want to start reading Haruki Murakami's Sputnik Sweetheart and Kafka on the Shore. And Time Traveller's Wife. Come come someone lend me soon.

***

Drifting into moonrivers make me smile. The horizons are higher and the water's incessantly bluer - One's own Secret Garden.

Make your metaphors work for you.

***

Avalon - Testify To Love

All the colors of the rainbow, All of voices of the wind
Every dream that reaches out that reaches out
to find where love begins
Every word of every story, every star in every sky
Every corner of creation lives to testify

For as long as I shall live, I will testify to love
I'll be a witness in the silences when words are not enough
With every breath I take I will give thanks to God above
For as long as I shall live, I will testify to love

From the mountains to the valleys
From the rivers to the sea
Every hand that reaches out
Every hand that reaches out to offer peace
Every simple act of mercy
Every step to kingdom come
All the Hope in every heart will speak what love has done

***

JENFUR darling CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!! yay we have our very own air stewardess amongst us now ;)

2006-11-01T15:42:00.000+08:00

I'm on the verge of crossing over to the Land-of-all-things Rainbows + IceCreams + StrawberryFields.
In my mind's eye, i already have. I dont know, there is this excitement, this nagging feeling of endless possibilities, of joy and happiness restored, of having girlietime with my "Old is Gold's" and "New-Found-Agains" - those i've never had the opportunity to know in a deeper way, having exited their lives prematurely.

2006-10-31T16:30:00.000+08:00

And it says - The MOE (The Ministry of ENTERTAINMENT) presents 'Hari Vali 2006', a second edition of the best-selling 2005 Deepa-Raya release. How editor-speak. How not to enjoy work like that. hee.

The women at the forefront of this event - elaine, sha2, manisha - The Intercultural Exchange

Yay!i didnt think event management was my thing but we all pulled it off. kudos to brainstorming sessions and time away from manuscripts and finally back to Human People, braving the lelong crowd at geylang just for the gift goodies, to PR-ing with the nonya-kueh-selling auntie and schmoozing with caterers for our 'Match The Kueh' game, for nights of facing phantoms whilst doing up the 'Hariraya' quiz (it was painful but still).

***

the possibilities are endless. geckogirl and i, we're planning a backpacking trip next year. she's trooping off to vietnam n laos this year. china was unforgettable, i want more of those. it is liberating to know that my decisions will not be mediated by the opposition of anyone who claims to know what exactly would be the best for me. the constrictions are lifted off and i marvel at that.
Life, Life, Life - the birds and the bees are a-humming,

***

more photos of JENFUR's birthday at The Line, Shangrila. the food was awesome, the company greater. i love all of you 'Old Is Golds's. im too lazy to put up pixs so go to Tarn's and Shooby's blog for them. i love you jenfur, you've always been such a fantastic friend and i really am glad that you're in my life. guess we're all at crossroads in our individual lives. just wanna let you know them im always here for you for starbuck treats if you're broke and you need to cheer up, or just for me to dissect problems. you're always welcome to bother me cos i love you manymuch.

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2006-10-27T08:37:00.000+08:00

my girlies at work.

***

i am sorry for being a mean trooper with my words and careless tongue :(
only God can do that ever-renewing miracle of healing hearts and hurts.
i dare not trust Man to right the wrongs sometimes cos it just ain't enough.

i'm such a Delayed Reactionist.
in other words; a true-blue Slowpoke.

***

breakfast on saturdays i lovelove very much. that extra effort to wake up early and press on toward a good meal to kick off the day. i have very heartlander-ish and hawker-ish tendencies.

***
Restore joy and contentment. The world is on shifting sand. Provide a way out. No bondages of any kind. Free them me we us you him her.

2006-10-26T08:39:00.000+08:00

The heart seeketh no pleasure when you can't trace the shape of it, rationalizing its emotions away with cool, hard Reason - thinking 'for me' and assuming that it is what 'i want' since it is the 'best way' for me . When that very foundation upon which you delineate such misaligned desires of my heart comes to naught, and you find out that it is not that which i desire for myself, the flies of your parochial, paternalistic, logical 'oh its the best way for you and probably what you would want for yourself and if you don't accept my sound reasonings then the devil must be in you and you must be crazy following your emotions and feelings and letting it dictate your decision' buzz around my ears like irritants out of the rubbish dump and you start wondering, why is she hurting me so by lashing out at me, let me tell you don't tell me my life plans when you refuse to factor in that i have that individual right to mak up my own mind, let me tell you that you have blatantly disregarded and wheedled away what i truly feel regarding certain decisions, that you have absolutely do not have a healthy respect for my being, that i cannot count on you being a nurturing and supportive presence in my life, and your fears of my fly-freebirding tendencies cause you to want to have that greater measure of control over every aspect of my life.

Some get it, but obviously you don't. Flyfreebird will exist alongside with the man she loves and who loves her enough to fly with her, not before her, not keeping her on a tight leash, not restricting her in a birdcage with his unduly fears for her and for their relationship.

Her heart will stay with him at all times, appreciative of that support and mutual understanding, gladdened with much joy that finally there is one who does not live in anguish when problems do not get solved immediately and still stay within trusting distance for look at us, all our problem unresolved despite 'talking it out' at every turn immediately because that's the way you are, because you want damage-control but what ever is the point of doing that when my own feelings, thoughts, desires and opinions are always being taken lightly and in fact dismissed and disregarded all the time.

2006-10-25T15:22:00.000+08:00

To break out of boxes,self-imposed or otherwise. Transgressive Transformation? I think you're afraid of me. I think you want a status quo maintenance. I think you want to keep me safe and sane. I An image of who you think i am, of who you'd like me to be. I think i'd rather not, for i won't be beating myself up meeting expectations which I'd sooner come to resent. Let me do anything out of my heart's desire according to His expectations. cos at least He won't change when i let Him down.

***
The incessant Rise of the Phoenix.

No more being a wreck. Onward, forward.

There’s lots I gotta do. First, I need to find me an abode. House-house, come to me. The search will start with the newspapers this Friday. Let it be cheap, let it be quick.

My heart needs a physical home.

***
Jenfur darling, ill dress up prettypreety for you this Sun for your birthday.
Sunrise ShangriLa, Champagne Chipadees, Fairie Frocks and GlitterGemGals of mine.

Adieu Sweets, you shall hear from me.

***
Lightie-flightie lovelovelove, I see you seeing me but are you ever sure? Or am i too heavy-hearted, you heart me not?
Yawn my love out evey morning, drag it across the floor upon waking up, brush the dust off with your toothpaste and lock it up when you leave. Then leave the key under the rug so that i may awaken it when you forget to come back home.

***

I heard of a man who says words so beautifully
that if he only speaks their name,
women give themselves to him.
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumours on our lips,
it is because I hear a man
climb the stairs and clear his throat
outside our door.

***

Heart set a-beating.
17, all over again.
so adorable. goodness graciously adorable.

***

2006-10-23T14:02:00.000+08:00

'Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.'

Camus

2006-10-18T21:37:00.000+08:00

One thing after another after another. Is it humanly possible? Losing bearings. Solitude overwhelms for once. Trading my life for that eternal reassurance. All things fall away. Footfall on the margins of Life. Almost.

Will you be holding my hand to join me in this [revolution]... this, this... daily annoyances?

Let the Eleventh Hour quickly pass me by.

2006-10-14T13:41:00.000+08:00

for the first time in a loooooong time, i woke up at 1130 a.m instead of the usual 630. and upon opening my peeps, i was expecting more cuddle-time with pillows that abound and while away the remaining half-hour or so, just basking in illicit time-robbing pillow-cuddling session (hey,im honestly time-robbed of zzzzzz).

then, my nose started running. a-fire a-fire, they run double-time. sniff. im half-sick with flu on this fav day of resting :x

im gonna do a Cinderella. wash my toilet, wash clothes, iron them. do a bit of math calculation AND remember to go to the bank next sat morn. ive got a total of 10K under my name for nus and laptop fees.grrr. poor pauper am i. heh. but im not worrying about anything at all, nothing to worry. the trick to this is just to remember the magic codework - Jehovah Jireh. so good to wake up remembering this. so so good. wow.

maybe ill do a bit of taebo after ironing and hanging those clothes. the haze is so bad and my nights are packed-full i havent had time to run.

love you all.

2006-10-13T10:57:00.000+08:00

I am awesomely exhausted like never before. I have been counting – three weeks of non-stop turbulence, everyday a new twist. I hope I’ll never have to go through that anymore. Fighting on two fronts and keeping your wits about yourself. Wondering what in the world has happened when I stock-take these few weeks. It seems almost surreal, passing by me so fast. The reality of it havent quite sunk in yet.

But there is a peace that reigns, that cradles me. My heart inwardly grieves, a dull aching pain, but I have not shed much tears. Seems like God is guarding my heart and my mind. Gaining much comfort and strength from the one I call my God. There is finally a unity in my life. No more being torn apart from all ends. To move forward and take that step of faith. No more double-lives. To live as God’s child. To openly say that I believe in Jesus.

Putting aside all that prevents me from being close to You.

Not a form, not a religion, no protocols, no reward-induced behaviour but for the love of one who inhabits every fibre of my being.

I’ll come to You once again as your little child, in all her fragility and brokenness. You will give me back your covering which i seem to have lost, vulnerable and desperate, lost in all the strife.You will comfort those who are broken because of the decisions that i choose to make and i stand on that. You will give me strength, to be that bundle of joy offering. There is no condemnation in Christ. The condemnation which once held me in bondage does not have that stronghold over me.

Grace as Marvellous, not cheap, not haphazard.

He is my Precious Pearl.

2006-10-02T10:49:00.000+08:00

Stripped of all that is familiar and comforting, of a sense of permanence, of material possessions and of reassuring safety, the pervasive loss that wrenches the guts out of you causes you to go on automatic mode to try to capture back a semblance of normalcy. You go about daily life around that which is commonplace, seeking accustomed habits to still that helter-skelter subconscious of yours.

The burden of shame, guilt and heartache drives you to question the existence of monsters and consequently, causes you to inquire whether you are one as well. The irreparable hurt you caused lulls you into easy self-reproach and the guilt you bear torments you so. It is so tempting to repair the hurt by renouncing that which damages the ones you love.

Yet the aching heart knows that God’s perfect will works toward all that is good, sowing a precious hope that gives life to the living. The living ceases to live without such promises of eternity. You recognize that life without God becomes infinitely meaningless. You devour the claims made by Him, receiving strength like it is a matter of life and death. You realize that you can gain human love by overt submission and allegiance, by pleasing the other by playing that expected role.

The question is - would you trade an unconditional, life-giving, life-fulfilling love for fallible human love and devotion which strikes out at you once you fail them?

The ever-renewing miracle of His love.

2006-09-28T11:00:00.000+08:00

to have found You time and time again.

My miracle-worker, My heart-warmer, My love-giver.

Make this life beautiful.

***

sometimes when i think about it, in some measure, i didn't quite just care for you.

i think i loved you in my own quiet way.

2006-09-22T17:59:00.000+08:00

everyday can be legendary
every minute an endless surprise

*
take a look at the ordinary
don't need to look for paradise
you could be next to an angel in disguise

- Corrinne May, Safe in a Crazy World

2006-09-08T17:28:00.000+08:00

love this job, everyday is a novelty (at least for now). So far, i get to;

1) Go book-shopping at kino/borders, take notes, be mindful of the content and ways of improving the new science magazine. i say, let our kids have their share of Ripley's Believe It or Not!, let them play round the kitchen, learn more about dinosaurs and let them have their honest opinions aired.

2) Write an article and i chose - The Importance of Exercise. Evil evil, these kids are getting obese with their obsession in gaining their A's far too much. They're all getting FAT. (well so am i, i am abnormally much happier nowadays, knowing what matters and what it is i must do. plus, cheesecake helps)

3) Design word puzzles of my own! How cool is that. Suddenly i find myself an authority of what passes through your kid's grey matter. I will avail myself to plant meadows, flowers, rainbows, ice-creams, ferris-wheels in their heads. scary mary.

WEATHER WATCH!

In order to make his journey across the world a success, Jack the Explorer has to plan his route such that he knows the weather conditions for certain regions. He needs to identify what they are so as to be able to equip himself with the right tools to deal with those conditions. Help him by filling in the blanks.

(Blizzard)
(Rain)
(Cumulus Clouds)
(Drought)
(Tornado)
(Floods)

(and there goes up pictures of real cool freak weather conditions found online)

MY HOME!

The rain is gone, Noah’s Ark has landed and the animals on it are longing to go home. You can help to guide these animals home by matching them to their right habitat.

4) Continue my Love Affair with the written word And at the same time, get paid.

5) Very mad, non-bitchy colleagues. All of them. She's the reason why we both diet for one day and lose our tenacity and EAT junk the next. there is also the tuckshop unclewho rings the bell in our premises at 10 am and 4pm with his treasures of choc milk, coffea, tea, fishballs, cakes, nuggets. In order to rid myself of such evil influences, i try to walk around the place for at least one round every hr or climb stairs once a day to defrost in this maddeningly antarctic-like place.

The 7th of September, A Day I'd Always Remember

2006-09-08T13:09:00.000+08:00

for magical nights of tireless wandering and vivid dreaming.

i had no time to hate, because
the grave would hinder me,
and life was not so ample i
could finish enmity.

nor had i time to love, but since
some industry must be,
the little toil of love, i thought,
was large enough for me.

~ emily dickinson

2006-09-04T11:48:00.000+08:00

It takes no time to fall in love
but it takes you years to know what love is

It takes some silence to make sound
And it takes a loss before you find it

- jason mraz

***

The Art of Losing -

I dream of a bliss so enchanting,
of faraway loves and
heart-rending moments of confession.

the one who turns your dreams into nightmares, notions of loss pervading that dreamscape, tearing at your heart years on when you see dettol and shokubutsu in the toilet of another;

the Easy Substitution of Love
the Replaceable Gaps of Loss

2006-08-31T09:18:00.000+08:00

The beat of a dull, weary heart that envisions far-flung places and visits them only in strange dreams. Accountability has its own entrapments. The powers of imagination comes into play upon a rainy morning, pressing one's nose against the window of the bus, wishing for a book in hand and waking up to the aroma of freshly-made coffee in quaint cafes.

The powers that may be, dream a little dream of me.

+

Home becomes a foreign place and you start building another in you. Someone inhabits in your heart, inhibits your freedom of space and time to the home in you and you seek new-found places to build yet another sanctuary. Home - the innermost place within.

+

Her pain becomes mine, two years on and two (or is it one-and-a-half?) faces between us.

Such mortal fragility.
I've seen friends shed tears for me. Humanity is redeemed when we feel the pain of another. It hurts, cos she's crying. It hurts, cos i know exactly what she's going through. It hurts, cos i can't do anything to protect her from going through it again. Cos this time it is not me who has the power to exercise damage control.

2006-08-25T09:24:00.000+08:00

Faced with a spanking, brand-new eMac, this virgin of an Apple user will attempt to conquer the unconquerable -
that of an inevitable consummation of love and devotion towards the said object of my desire, fraught with frequent consumption of its love-child, the Internet.

+

I've decided to do a content revamp for this blog - a reflection of what i would term - a recent Occupational Habit (or Hazard, if you'd prefer). Since i utilise the internet for prolonged hours, my mindscape, if you can visualize it, tends to categorize knowledge/information akin to an eMac desktop, juggling multiple strands of knowledge and information belonging to varied interests/genre. Therefore, this blog would seek to be all-inclusive, not merely spanning the scope of that of a reality-check/update/fashioning one's utopia/friend-blog-ster. It is time to reclaim blogspot for my own knowledge-building purposes. Thing is, the term 'knowledge' sounds daunting. And i say, throw that mindset into the gutters and embrace knowledge in all its multi-faceted meaning. I will sorely disappoint you and tell you that the ending of my academic life surprisingly has found me stretching the horizons in the way i perceive and digest knowledge. I take in everything, not discounting or poo-pooing stereotypically 'useless' scraps of information from cancer-related myths to 'how to use an eMac' to the notions of hyper-reality. This is what i call the levelling of knowledge. Knowledge is meant to be egalitarian, not elitist.

+

This is life - iTunes, freedom to surf and getting paid to extend my obsession with the textual word into professional practice. I guess God knows what is best for me. I can imagine getting burnout, bored and bothered if i were to be in HR, marketing or industries like banking.

No one writes as atrociously as Math authors. Concerned with merely getting their sums across, they circumvent most laws of the English language and leave it to the editors to do the dirty.

+

the word in season

+

Sometimes I wonder if I’m living that life in order to gain fodder. A lived-in experience, or so one calls it. Hyper-reality.
Time to take up that mantle and take up the issues that reside close to my heart. The written word continues to be one’s mode of perpetrating that bloodless revolution. Sorry to disappoint but no hearts will be broken (if you think how unfortunate it is for me to be in such a position) for I seek not to stumble anyone, especially my loved ones. I seek only to sow in awareness.

I seek to understand why things are as such – of whether I am complicit to my own victimisation and figure the ways in which I can circumvent and achieve a unifying transcendence that does not involve tit-for-tat-ing. There must be a higher force which upholds all sense of justice, mercy and love.

You may think me mad, but madder are those who kill what they cannot have, especially in the name of love.
Do not fight that which you cannot kill.

How enchanting is the process of embattlement.

+

My questioning nature. The way I codify the surrounding world.

+

Endeavour not to justify yourself and speak in that language which circumvents all. Dare to create your own.

+

more Power, more Love

2006-07-20T16:30:00.000+08:00

ive been told that im being perceived as being smaller than usual. frame-wise, desire-wise (desire in its multihued variances - desire in terms of simple decision-making, personal choices, idiosyncracies and quirks)

i will find my voice and claim it back, to not be afraid and to go forth in love. to right my own grievances and to do things according to my conscience.

the Art of Substitution

2006-07-17T22:42:00.000+08:00

Done with part-time shandyings and taking a hiatus in wait of the big fish - a real full-time paying job. It suddenly occured to me that given the inevitability of getting kicked out/married/travelbug-ued/sued for sloth in the distant future, i must be wise enough to start saving. Ugly though it is and as un-adept i am in handling the technicalities in life like career-sourcing (eeew) and bank-account openings (double eeew. i got the shock of my life when $8500 worth of NUS tuition fees got thru to me - offering to take it up like a badge of honour (yea,yea the big girl's gotta prove her i'm-old-enough-stuff) bravely (though decidedly in a fashion of subtle quivering without the masculine sweatdrops) telling my mum to leave it to me to handle it myself in the face of anticipatory job cashflow, which obviously has not materialized.

So the Art of Giving Up/Substitution has to pave the way for this girl to master it - quick. It's bad enough having to thrash myself for giving up the offer at Seventeen as a fashion intern-writer (3 mths at a miserable $600 p/mth.Don't expect much from internships) --- Deviation No 1. Recognize the obsession with Numbers. According to the book The Little Prince, one measure of grown-up-ness would be that grown-ups love numbers. They ask, upon meeting other human souls - their age, the level of education, the number of children they have acquired (notice - Acquired. Another case-in-point for Grown-Up-Ness would be their fascination with stocking up. They suddenly take on the role of a Collector. Your perennial Garbage-Man, intrigued with the need to keep track of numbers - of time, of money, of bank accounts. Kiasuism becomes a universal impulse and not just relegated to your Hello-Kitty (or has that turned passe?) heartlander with high hopes of possessing a signature pseudo-cat that might rake in the dollars after fifty years, remembering once the feline's days of yore, now threatened by the (again, hopeful) discontinuation of Hello-Kittyness. One embraces such thoughts in anticipation of being deemed as a C-o-l-l-e-c-t-or - in possession of a prized, cult kitty-cat.

I know not how the art of giving up has led to the mock disapproval of pretty little kitties and numbers. but I certainly do understand the mechanics of giving up. Of late, strife has given up to peace, conflict to resolution and compromises, gut-reaction running away to squarely facing each and every problem, distemper to love, seclusion to sharing.

I look forward to such winds of change, when things do turn out for the better, when prayers get answered and even if they don't, just knowing that there is someone to listen to each and every plea gives you that strength to venture forth.

The fear of rocking the boat is passe.

Dare to rock the boat .

An Ode to Moments of Whimsical Serenity - Of Conceptions and Misconceptions

2006-07-10T03:05:00.000+08:00

This month is my birthday month. No hype, no fuss, birthdays were always quiet affairs. My twentieth was spent, prior to youth service, at a coffee joint, yoghurt-drinking and cake-eating in blissful solitude - nurturing a secret penchant for eating my own cake alone. Now that I’m over coffee joints and living life in café-bistros, i have taken to Wandering - a first love.

I’m taking more walks lately than I’ve ever done before. Perhaps it has its roots in childhood (an inclination towards all things unstructured and non-imposed from within and without) and the potent mixture of the adult freedom of managing one's own finances. It might be, in mainstream society's eyes, a life without 'vision'. But my version of Vision and that of yours would inadvertently differ. A healthy respect towards that makes all that difference to me, especially at this point of time where I am at that transitional Crossroad, having to ceaselessly oscillate and reinvent liminal selves, scaling the gradations of Seemingly Responsible Adult-Dom (with a sorely lacking sense of Accountability. I’m trying, honest) and Wanton, Spontaneous Flyfreebird-ing.

The notion of an impending birthday makes one extra -sensitive to existential issues like Conceptions, Stock-taking, God, Mothers, Meaningfulness, Love and Life. Oh, and Freedom.

When you have been nurtured as a child to grow as an individual, having free reign over your own management of time and life-plans, what society perceives as a wayward, latch-key kid - a by-product of 'failed' parenting techniques, has to give way to a broader, more open-minded conception of an equally valid alternative truth. It moves my heart greatly to debunk that myth. It is exactly this creed of theirs which has nourished my burning sense of inquisitiveness, questioning attitude towards life and the capacity to be out there on my own, perfectly at home in the public realm without battling an eyelid at my state of solitary wanderings.

As a child, I had to create my own fun. What made it more significant was that I was given the means to do so - part of a conscious attempt on my mom's (vicarious) masterplan for me, sowing that guarantee of freedom for my life and claiming for herself a measure of what was robbed from her.

Men will not be allowed to dictate or rule over this girl.
She will not live a life of fear, of weakness and of suppression.
Patriarchy will not exist in her vocabulary.
She will roar like a lioness, not afraid to voice out, not feebly silenced in accordance to a man's needs and desires.

Even now as I type this at my playground downstairs at 1am (with a sleeping bf doing reservice - my perpetual superego whom I know would not tolerate these private late-night wanderings for reasons understandable, according to him), I am thankful and gracious for that semblance of trust, faith and freedom I have had all my life from my family. Do not misunderstand me. I do not condone callous, irresponsible, uninvolved parenting and blatant disregard for the development of one's child. The reasons proffered to me by them (her) are beginning to take a rooted significance as I begin to see things as they truly are.

These wanderings, ironically, were conceived within a heart of fear.

Nine, female, alone. No one home. Unsafe. Not safe for a young girl.

Society conditions such cues into a young girl's mind. Neighbours tsk-tsk in mock pity and exaggerated disapproval at young girl's parents.
Nine, and a flasher decides to haunt her life along the corridor of her childhood.
Numbers take on a significance in her life like never before - she feels like Cinderella, obsessed with the workings of Time.

1 to 7. 1 to 7 pm. Equals 6 hours. 6 hours = ??? mins = (the seconds are always too long, far too long)

She's nine and she has a bus card. She turns twelve, and her bus card inevitably becomes her trusty companion. Nine, and she saves up money for treats at the nearest KFC. Twelve saw her saving up for the nearest island - Asian Village, Sentosa. Unlimited rides, for the un-limited child - ten dollars only for whiling your time away in wait of the Fairy Godmother to turn the magic keyhole.

Her wanderings have taken her far and wide. It has become her. At twenty two, she understands all, will not justify or validate that peculiar idiosyncrasy, will not blame herself if she finally decides one day that Flyfreebirding, Freedom and Fairy Godmothers will lead the way home to that child of nine.

***

Thing is, my dearest _____, you will not have that power to silence me. Forgiveness is a very peculiar activity. I have been misunderstood. I have, whether you know it or not, tried to live that life just to keep your happiness afloat.

Ever the seemingly dutiful daughter, the undergraduate (so you might redeem yourself and claim your semblance of success), the one who won't fly because of your own personal prejudices, the one who would keep away from angmoh boyfriends just because of your close-mindedness, the one who would cry when family dinners go awry, the one to take you out for father's day after receiving her pay dammit!, yes, the one whom you chose to throw on the floor at four months as you walked away carrying your other daughter, the one who is crippled at twenty two with her flyfreebirding tendencies and her deep aversion to entrapments, running away just because I have to whilst I still can unlike her, the only one who dares to voice out her hurts, disappointments and love time and time again and because it strikes you right at the core of your heart and you know it, you know my love for you, despite not wanting to but undeniably I do in a very weird love-hate kind of way, the one willing enough to overcome that fear you’ve instilled in all of us just to tell you – hey, I understand, hey I know your deep-seated isolation and loneliness and your need for that a new-found redemption in the eyes of men.

But deny me not, deny me not because I am like an injured animal, because I have enough anger in me so don’t push it, don’t push it because I will not stand certain actions of yours and I know equally as much that with me you’ve always toed the line - carefully, carefully now. Cos you’ve seen how I’ve put myself in danger guarding him, you saw my crazed, wild glint in my eyes as you came at me and you saw no fear. Don’t push it because you know my intentions – and to cross that line would mean you’ve violated that foundation of fragile trust and respect I have for you.

It’s my party and

I’ll cry if I want to.

Happy Birthday to Me.

2006-05-12T15:07:00.000+08:00

he hasnt been back. she's eerily but understandably happy, and everyday im waiting for her to come back to grace her day with smiles, cut fruits and cook my legumes, give her my magazines and we're all wondering - how long will this peace last? she's mustering her courage but there is no way out. im seething inside, angry at the world - breaking people with scars so deep they dont quite bleed.

a creator of happiness
a dreamer of better things

2006-05-11T04:14:00.000+08:00

dark red is the colour of roses that have long dried up.
it is the signifier of the Cult of Reminiscence,
of a journey past its prime, reconciling itself unto a mellowing maturity of sorts.

it is the colour of a shell made of little petals put together in an intricate fashion, persisting in its form yet empty of its content -
like dried up roses.

i want my fresh bouquet of roses, the ones you surprised me with on valentines day, mister debonair, the colour of this red,

the colour of Hope and Precious Declarations.

2006-05-06T16:49:00.000+08:00

once again, you're such a disappointment. the love-weary cannot give love - they only take and suck you dry. once again, you did'nt come after me when i chose to go away. the heart-weary ceases to listen to their heart, just to save their skin. logic, rationality and calculated moves preside over your every action. your ennui reveals much - an inability to be grateful and appreciative over your treasures.

i can play chess too, you've taught me well. your protege predicts that once again, they'll be yet another plaster girl for you to run to, to run away from this awful mess that has been there since forever -once again in search of lighter baggage and less tempestuous seas.

i do not need you to patronize me, dishing out compassion on cheap-silver platter - your perception of me as a little girl who needs all the protection from the world, that my seeming weakness as a woman(such gender essentializing. smack. if you were strong in the first place, you would know how to love me) probes you to extend that hand of kindness to hold on to something which is essentially stagnating (in your eyes)(and in need of your sterile imagination to reinvent and invigorate new freshness). so then, tell me how i managed in the past to stay in a two-half yr relationship and still be very much in love?

it is you who is killing me with your jadedness, stoicism, blatant cynicism and disregard for the wholesome things in life. ive forgiven, over and over - me, practice tit-for-tat? no sirree. till perhaps when you learn to come after me and know how to love. i dont need anyone else to fill up that void - i wont subject anyone to second-hand love. so till then, to healing, once again.

i cannot love men who are dying while they live.

2006-05-04T13:12:00.000+08:00

ending soon, one more day - dreadful school.
but i dont feel like going out, or being with anyone for tt matter. very broke as well.

i feel like spontaneous serendipity should take over - no pre-planned meetings, nothing organised. just for once, for my own plans to take root - be it to take a stroll at east coast at midnight (i dont quite care, i always hv a pocket knife with me), or for my body to detox itself (instead of stuffing myself full with food which i dont quite like in the first place just for company's sake) or to rot at home watching dvds and lounging about(instead of exposing myself to second-hand smoke or environmental pollution or to alcohol which might be a necessary accompaniment to induced-fun which is never real fun in the first place unlike good heartwarming conversations and flighty-flighty laughs and in the second, which is not a lot of fun when you know it does your liver harm. yucks)

this is as neurotic as it gets i guess. this might very well also be bordering on being obsessive-compulsive.

just gimme two weeks i guess for me to relax my body and my mind after, what - decades of education and forced socialising.

2006-04-30T13:44:00.000+08:00

eeew.my tummy feels like a whirlpool - cant seem to stomach oily food anymore. it churls, n churns n basically chills me.
luckily my penchant for everything chocolate still stands - oh, have you realized tt Godiva choc has extended its menu to include..surprise! - a new addition, your commonfare of THE BEVERAGE - (think its somewhat like a frappucino thingie)(starbucks, you've got a real competitor now). Godiva has always been perceived as highbrow (dont-touch-me-im-not-willy-wonkaesque-so-small-kiddies-with-no-moolah-go-buy-your-cadbury-this-is-rated-R21-buy-if-you-have-a-money-tree-at-home-thank-you-very-much). even this chocolate fan will not walk past the godiva store at citylink within three feet, much less step in. i can only gawk and bide my time till a kind soul gives me my money tree on 10 july this year and every year thereafter.
it seems like a marketing attempt to revamp that image and make it more accessible to the masses (read=the poor) by introducing a beverage that exists on the same plane as your common starbucks.

still biding my time till exams end, and ive no school F-O-R-E-V-E-R. can you beat that? can you? can you?

to a new lease of Life, to a reinvention of the Self, to higher heights of Intensity, to a broadening of Perceptions -

i remain,
one heck of a wildflower.

2006-04-26T23:43:00.000+08:00

an emotional coward is one who refuses to acknowledge one's natural feelings, inclinations and heightened sensibilities, choosing instead to take the easier road of self-reppression and willful self-ignorance.

freud would definitely hate you - period. plus, he might also add [with much glee heh-heh the evil one laughs] -that it always comes back, full circle and no less.

so instead, see things for what they truly are and embrace it - therein lies, in making a fully-informed decision regarding the state of the Self - make your Choice. choose wisely. ignorance is bliss no more - grow up, and make your decisions in lieu of the impending consequences should you decide to follow that certain trajectory.

this wasnt the whole point of my tirade.

cowards, cowards, they abound by the many,
far and wide - they exist.

the type - emotional cowards
the affliction - making a farce out of situations by pretending that something does not exist, when it does.
the modus operandi - keeping the seemingly fragile peace through the shelving and dismissal of the emotions of another and refusing to address undercurrents of tension

***
watched Rebel Without a Cause (1955 or so i think)

the characterisation of the primary protagonist of the Rebel (james dean) - my type of guy, yum yum
edgy, with the world against him, fighting the good fight against all odds - note that the romantic ideal has been dismantled and i never quite believed in that anyway , the whole shitbang bout the heroic macho male nyeh-nyeh falling dames into muscled-man's lap- no! - strong is when you possess integrity, heroic is when you make the effort, despite all odds stacked against you, in spite of your human fallibility, to do what is right according to the crevices of your heart and soul.

and i remain,
a wildflower.

***

my heart ached when i passed by siglap today - that whole stretch.
from 400++ upper east coast road all the way to cheesecake cafe.

2006-04-24T15:43:00.000+08:00

watched a film adaptation of Neil Simon's The Goodbye Girl (1977).

the accompaniment (David Gates) to the soundtrack might look cheesy on this interface, as love songs normally go, but - dismiss them not. go hear the song and let it tug at your heartstrings.

'Cause baby goodbye
doesn't mean forever,
let me tell you goodbye, doesn't mean
We'll never be together again,
If you wake up and i'm not there,
I won't be long away 'cause the things you do
my goodbye girl
will bring me back to you.

***

im not sure why, i feel like im 22 going on 16. my notions regarding certain issues still bear that tinge of undulterated hope. i still harbour hope. i have not succumbed to cynicism. have a little respect for yourself, and in consequence, leave a semblance of it for me - mock me for my naivete? how cruel of you to c-r-u-s-h them. it hurts more than ill ever reveal, ever. im sorry i cannot buy into your notions of practicality, tt a state of togetherness depends on whoever who happens to be your plaster girl to present happiness to you and for you to leave in tempestuous times, only to discount that integral act of forgiving each other? - strip away every and nothing is left of the love-wearied. only a hard [heart] core, bandied around like a veteran soldier's wound - your very own badge of honour? i think not. move on and learn to see love as it is. think out of the box. stop circumscribing self-imposed limits upon yourself -

such joy-killing - your heart is old, weathered -
and

cold.

***

biding my time till end of exams.

memories. fragments and slivers of them.

meadows i still dream of them why? such purity in all its intent, perhaps thats why. with no agenda on both parts, only a sweet friendship as the basis of that foundation. and maybe i still dream of the meadows because they represent hope, such youthful vigour in delineating whats wrong and right, with God in the middle as our stronghold, peppered with conversations tt do not involve mind games, seeing the world with new eyes all the time, that heart-to-heart connection, knowing that if floors do gobble you up in your emptiness in the midst of a crowd, i would be your friend to comfort you, to give a part of myself without counting or being afraid.

but afraid i was-
this girls grown, battered from/by all fronts,
but at least she's learnt not to

cut-and-run.

she'll stay, for some.

2006-03-30T20:20:00.000+08:00

flying into walls. throwing oneself into _ .

catch m e if you can, cos some won't wait.

by the way, i'm missing the china air - that smell of _ . of countless nights floating into space, staring into nothingness. you could do ballet up there.

cos angels have wings, my friends -

this quietness, this solitude.

avaunt, avaunt.

sometimes, i do miss remembering that there are such things as meadows in this world. austen and her world. van gogh and his. movies like before sunrise + after sunset and flyfreebirding.

i carry hearts in my heart, as always, even when im flying - dont you geddit? don't you geddit??

sorry if i disappear.

2006-02-28T16:33:00.000+08:00

an apple becomes a psuedo-almond when you bite into the very core of it - eat the seeds.

no, this is not metaphorical - its true. somehow or rather, simple things that i say seem to get misconstrued and read into with much misguided enthusiasm when an apple = really just an apple.

***

can you undo certain decisions? mediated by multiple factors.

***

Da Paolo has simply the best enticing cakes . i ate a strawberry yoghurt cheesecake yesterday. am craving for more. am craving for other intangibles. the tangible is often being used to satisfy the intangible.

***

so you pray for wisdom and discernment , and not simplicity, in the face of the bludgeonings of the world - like gender politics and human interactional theories. your disillusionment wells up within and you realize that you dont quite like the world as it is. alternative solutions?build you an ivory tower? succumb to notions that are mediocre and embrace bestiality? create yourself an alternate reality in that head of yours, fortified by the (anti) institutions of Books and Films and Plays? is your angst a belated one? do you subscribe to the fruits of Love, Goodness, Hope, Peace and know that there is a spirit which dwells in the interstices of your being which mediates Simplicity and Complexity? do you rather live in that innocent ignorance or do you embrace it and seek out to create a pathway for the world to a certain truth? do you eliminate people when you realize they dont quite hold the same truths and values as you do? or do you practice spiritual discirimination, or do you set out to just love - humans in all their imperfections? do you seek not to stumble others when you are down and weak and shot?

blood-shot-eyes-of ___.

***

2006-02-17T14:23:00.000+08:00

whimsical creatures. nus has never seen me so embarrased trying to stuff this into my bag, flowergirl i am - not. twas a funny night, da-pao-ing kopitiam steaks (for $6) after school n hitching a ride out fm labrador park laughing ourselves silly. maudlin (and broke-student) creatures. no protocols, no guidelines - to a day like any other.

***

will be on holiday till mon, peeps. daddy's order, birthday-man this weekend. batam - mediocre choice of location but a favourite with parents. must be the indonesian cuisine n spa packages they've been harping on. so here i come, pedicures + manicures + massages + facials, the frumpy girl will rejuvenate and hopefully emerge a swan. the mind will take a rest from academia n girlygirly non-brain-juggling books n mags will follow suit. that swimsuit, as well.

***

2006-02-06T00:37:00.000+08:00

nothing and no one matters more to me except for mrmeadow-maker.
the frailty of human relationships/bonds and our conditional demands made on others have certainly highlighted this.
im glad we have this secret thing going on, mister god, just you and i.

just you and i.

we have this common understanding, ya know. He is my idea of perfection. in light of blatant cynicism/second-rate deals/humourless joy-killing, i am glad to be Your little child.

the decisions i take might be bad, and if they truly are, please mrmeadowmaker, because we have this common understanding (yo,yo) thang going on, gimme your (yo) Peace cos i need your sign. make them BigBold-but-does-not-matter-if-its-not-Beautiful elephantine RoadSign with all those extra directions like
----> or <---- . it would be good if i pass prison and collect $200 buckaroos on the way. i dont want life to be a series of Monopoly, monopolizing my life. its bad enough to hear that love is a game by that guy on pseudo-tv. love is everything in Corinthians. holllaaaaa. Peace Out, brotha.

oh and God, just in case i havent been saying it lately, thank You for loving me.

i love You, very much.

2006-01-31T22:54:00.000+08:00

hey girl, remember when i took this picture? we were doing the whole traveller-tourist-pretend-thang at boat quay, on a remotely coldcold pseudo-winter night after theatreworks' dramatised readings at that old rice building. i caught you at a moment when you travelled to the other world of secret hearts and much happiness. frozen moments in pictures dont quite lie, especially when you were being caught unawares. dont fear, go forth my monologueress. trust the heart because rationalizing dont do shitbang when you want an authentic non-farcical reality for yourself.

2006-01-31T14:36:00.000+08:00

whilst reunion dinners are a-going, the streets of chinatown reeks of much emptiness, save for tourists. armed with my camera, tristram shandy, $15 and a good pair of energizerwalkingbunny legs, i trooped round corners like club st, amoy st, ann siang hill, tanjong pagar and joined the crowd amidst the chinatown fiesta at night.

***
desiring the magic whilst a-slogging to work. kudos to the unseen heroes who clean up after our mess.

esoteric shophouses in even-more-esoteric lanes.

my view from the almost vacant kopitiam where i rested, with the book, herbal tea and terrible teh-ping. Operation Stranger was in the air - the fullness of Possibilities.

the dawn of the new night.

eve of cny. quiet empty lanes. you can even dance in peace.

hy and i, as cogs in the wheels of Festivities.

sepia-tinted Past.

bak kwa and i, go very nicely together.

***

guess who's back in the house?

that House-Invader literally killed Operation Stranger. there goes my new year plans. but for all this, welcome back.

honestly, i like. verymanymanymuch more than anything else. *smilessmiles*

you dope, i will smack you. and hide your glasses.

2006-01-21T00:10:00.000+08:00

i believe in days like these.

home-funky-fization days always start with fantabulous food ala spaghetti/mishmash salad/yoghurt/fruit juice and surfing cartoons and mtvs with my teddiebear monologue-ress jasminder

followed by loads of nua-ing, existing in parallel universes sidebyside

and trigger-happy-ing with talking shrek pussie-in-boots

and cozying up with a book,laptop and chocolatewafers between us

and daddytime manymany lately, just the both of us. Daddy always comes with Dinner.

and what is daddytime without introducing him to your world of trigger-happiness on your way to more food

and what is daddytime without him buying 'necessities' which poor,struggling students cannot afford. coming back home with this baby blades of mine to flyflyfly.

days like these, i wanna spend with many many, and my new baby blades.

2006-01-19T21:27:00.000+08:00

good days to to remind us to be good for goodness' sake.

waking up fresh n early for school (M-rare, but getting used to)
breakfast by mummy + frenchtoast (rare)
shakespearing-yourself and knowing you've done ur work (wow)
class + lunch with zhen (old-is-gold moment, i like)
china-esque lunch - authentic dumplings in biz canteen (i chinagirl)
sharing a blueberry cheesecake AND brownie b/w us girls
having jared join us (Operation Stranger)
sharing yet another warm choc cake
dinner + homemovie 'elf' with daddy (wow)

on days like these -

love, hope, peace, - all come together. everything comes together in all its purity and wholesomeness. on days like these, everything is so good you would want to believe that all the good things, whatever 'good' might mean to you, would remain.

2006-01-17T23:40:00.000+08:00

i feel like i need the ah-lian side of me to emerge. to hurhur-why-like-that-one-ah and then next day total amnesia - feels shiok to be a dumb blonde, aint it, to be a total airhead. Keatsian 'negative capability' with a twist. this need for triviality, to dismiss things as they come and go, to say oh-well-so-be-it and compound it into a pulp and throw it into the rubbish bin.

too many deaths by caused by intensity. im always too serious for my own good in just about everything.
not going school tom. i wanna dig holes in the ground.

***

ser-rie's sms to me -

'hey when u find a fish check whether its fresh or not ok. be careful with ur heart. esp since its v precious.'

oh you. enjoy denmark my dear girl. Operation Stranger will kick off for you with a Big Bang. and keep those stories for me.

everyone's going everywhere. jen zhen tarn shoobs, they're all gonna go on Operation Europe after graduation this june. its 5 grand, so maybe not for me.

i live vicariously, knowing that most of my loved ones are scattered all over the globe.
denmark, uk, france, india, australia.
i even took 2 modules this sem that has all to do with India (hi gecko girl!). its a strange feeling when the lecturer talks and im staring real hard at the map, trying to find goa and imagine how this part of the region can be sucked in a weird timezone of the 1960s, retaining their hippie culture and wondering whether gecko knows about this place. when i watch french movies i think of tarn and shoobs in france and french men and amelie poulain and be glad there is this thing as poetic realism. yes yes its all slivers of the imagination, all preconceived notions and sketchy ideas of my vision of the world. ive not travelled much, but there's always google. when in doubt, google it.

restlesss restless. new cultures, food, people. i thrive on displacement. ive never one to feel home sick before, even since young.maybe cos ive never quite developed a singular sense of attachment to any physical place. this sounds like tara/gecko talking.

seeking to be an urban nomad.
i carry hearts in my heart though i walk so very far.

2006-01-16T14:37:00.000+08:00

shock shock horror horror.
gulp.

stay in india, please, dont come back.
i would die with much embarrasment.
other than that, that was

Hotness personified.
this is Shyness speaking.
dont call.

2006-01-11T21:08:00.000+08:00

she eats up her words, pukes it out back again and is well - whatever well might mean.
pleading temporary insanity when the [phantom] Muse visit - must be the late nights.
the mode of normalcy is mediocre but for once - must be good.
good for whom? - she remembers.

iamsorry.

***

Operation Stranger-in-all-its-Strangeness has commenced.
hopefully it does not stand to be a self-defeating one, further confounding the ____ .

the multiplicity of experience - according to the modernists ie: Joyce, Woolf.
i like.

2006-01-10T23:32:00.000+08:00

every night she stays up with killer eyebags not wanting to sleep - calling out her love song for a vampire, saving up coins to purchase that ride on the ferris-wheel of the Imagination, snatching slivers of neon-coloured dissonance in thin air and willing them to corporealize themselves on paper.

i would take my courage in together with this intensity which manifests itself as restlessness. who you afraid the big bad wolf? i would wolf you down with my ravenous hunger and disjointed thoughts. who you afraid to pry? i would claim you as mine break thresholds but cowards,cowards, they abound. catch you me alone and i would claim. careful now so back off youthemthey, bearing down intrusively those lights down on me. come only if you wont burn yourself with this intensity. or do you bide your time waiting to experience the layers of her onion-like skin, seeing if it's safe?

this is the angst which makes her glow in all its strangeness. someone once said she had a lot of shit in that head of hers. funny it becomes so attractive now to some. it becomes a political act to confer upon one the status of [an unwanted] rebel/strayer [as opposed to a stayer for she stays not for many], justifying that the personal is always political. the personal only becomes political if you confer upon it intended meanings for your own life so as to get away with shit that you dare not commit. your own personal safety-net with that nod-nod-yes-yes-yes! social significance. you can now wag your tail, good dog.

others, they gasp aloud - streams of her consciousness welling pass them like an affront to their conscience and vision of life. you're off-tangent. off-centre. just Off, complete Singaporeans lip-synching in unison. i would like to see you turn to me with frozen lips. see you pucker up those lips of yours in return for mine, your own set of containment policy. derive meanings from these w-o-r-d-s shall you? - not, for finally i write not denying myself - commit not intentional fallacy, this is not a fable, neither is this allegorical. the personal remains and you go away still not knowing much of those Disney-rides in mine.

***

2006-01-04T03:19:00.000+08:00

exactly two years ago, i remember writing an entry just for you. knowing you on christmas in 2003- you picked styrofoam off my hair - an entirely innocent gesture. i was glad for that.

i was going through one-and-a-half

fa
ces

and you had no space in

-between-

you were that Nice Stranger.

and i was mean, stoic and half-empty mind you, and certainly not half-full.
perhaps its the same ole' story two years on - she's come full-circle, whilst you were gone.

but this time, she'll welcome you back - not being the wreck that she was (and this necessitates a diversion; is it considered a betrayal to the memory of one's past if one is able to the transcend supposed grief?), able to see you for who you are without reality being mediated by mirrors and reflected images.

welcome back home, my friend, and i might just visit you in holland/aus when Operation Wanderlust kicks in.

***

my love affair with the Written Word - Your Written Words. the words you wrote. past sms-es take on significances reverberating far beyond simple beep beeps. the simulacrum of History recording itself with the click of a button. how easy, in the paranoia of losing me, to click Send (hurry, hurry, or she might just go away like she always said she would. no fear, my love, wallflowers are the living dead) to air your words to me, your written words of 'no' and 'i will not kill the love we have because of the hate i harbor'. killed it, you did, and hate, did you in. technology allows one to swallow one's words. you can just press Delete, forgetting ever that Send was the immediate option.

***

'words words words, even if it does not send me to my grave, words shall still mark my tombstone - Hamlet. a macabre line that got us a lil excited'

sms by Fir, 23/9/05

2006-01-01T23:33:00.000+08:00

parents are off to batam, and its just bro n i- except tt he's home infrequently so its just me. no dull droning of the tv, no blasting muzak, no human conversations echoing thru the walls - just complete silence the way i would like it, with the space to roam about the house with the freedom to plop my books at the dining table, to have my dinners at ten and muesli at twelve. and stockloads of milk + fruits. it gets magical at night, this piercing stillness. Sublime Solitude.

a toast to my own place in the near future - with or without a partner.

reminds me of once when ju and i rented that room in that house way back in acjc, when we had to stretch my $200 pocket money - staying up to do our own laundry, cooking days worth of food so we could reheat them, having loads of green bean soup so we wont go hungry, that routine of going to school and coming back to that rented room straight to nap then pia, coming home once every two weeks. and then there was kent ridge hostel in uni - supperssuppers, the staying up late in the rooms of other hostelites.

but nothing beats having your own place.

***

i will not have you tick me against a checklist - filling me into your preconceived categories of how Your Ideal Woman/Perfect Mate should be and compare me with the notes you garner from that checklist.

for i exist in proportions beyond what you can seemingly grasp of me - for nothing is ever one thing.

***

I dreamt of your sweet embrace, encircling me like how you would encircle Life.

Funny how it is that you managed to enter these dreams of mine, when in reality all that embraces is your smile - skipping past imagined conversations straight into the sublime intimacies of the soul.

Imaginings of your being, because your existence never really quite existed in my life - only glimmers of it, sporadically existing parallel to that of mine but never quite meeting at a common juncture, encapsulated in its entirety in that smile of yours.

Your smile - that signifier for the deep recesses of the hidden treasures between two souls.

In reality, it was an embrace that Never Was.

***

never marry a poet/writer/dreamer/actor/artist.

2005-12-31T00:20:00.000+08:00

'People are so often and so disastrously wrong in doing; they (who by their very nature are impatient) fling themselves at each other when love takes hold of them, they scatter themselves just as they are, in all their messiness, disorder, bewilderment...

And what can happen then? what can life do with this heap of half broken things that they would like to call their happiness, and their future?

And so each of them loses himself for the sake of the other person, and loses the other. and loses the vast possibilities...in exchange for an unfruitful confusion, out of which nothing more can come; nothing but a bit of disgust, disappointment and poverty. '

Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke.

***

im looking forward to magical fairylights and god-sent angels.
to non-confusion.
to the Real Deals.
to heart-warming moments.
to pain that breaks which shapes.
to the stuff eternity is made up of.
to unexpected surprises.
to free-spiritedness.
to simple revelations.
to the various manifestations of Love.
to strength which uplifts and perseveres.
to sublime solitude which is kept separate from loneliness.
to perfect timings in all things.
to tears of awe and joy.
to being a blessing.
to the resistance and triumph over the Devil's playpen.
to non-farcical realities.
to better prose.
to the endurance of Hope.
to a sharper sense of discernment.
to a concretization of Operation Wanderlust.
to the rising of the Phoenix - that mythical bird consumed by its own fire, arising from its own ashes - multifarious Incarnates.
to the increasing aesthetics of artistic creation.
to new levels of consiousness.
to the protection and the guarding of _ .
to still-better-prose with a non-desire for self-censorship, just to write, to write.
to the freedom to paint and construct one's own authentic reality as one deems it to be.
to an open heaven on earth, to feel You in my heart - leave me not alone. Be With Me.

2005-12-28T02:37:00.000+08:00

holidays are coming to an end, but it significantly propels me into my last semester of sch of which i am determined to devour and actually Go and enjoy it (since honestly there is not much motivation to Improve the grades, seeing the difficulty of it, so im going with the whole Qualitative Train-of-Thought-with-regards-to-academia) . taking 6 modules next sem, heavyweightstuff go jia-you! taking (tentatively, still in midst of bidding)

1) South-asia Studies 1101E (South Asian Studies)
2) Sociology of Deviance (Sociology)
3) Social Psychology (Sociology)
4) Shakespeare (Literature)
5) 18thC Literature (Literature)
6) Singapore Eng-Lang Literature (Literature)

any partners-in-crime [module-mates] out there?

***

holidays have always taken on new, multiple meanings ever since 2003. somehow or rather, my real all-rounded education always start with the end of each semester in uni, so its been [4 ]blocks of holiday periods of which i can distinctively remember Growing into a Person - each holiday period bringing to mind vastly different set of challenges and direction, albeit a common similarity - all tainted with the need of the letting go of various individuals and of Rebirth and Renewal. someone once remarked to me; 'so aren't you seriously jaded? and all i can say is that i am honestly not.

it is a tiresome affair - this loss of much-loved individuals for i value heart-to-hearts and add that to my further oft-melancholic-nostalgic self but nothing beats the multiple Rays of Hope - manifested itself not just in the semblances of the Future but also in the simplicity of Life itself - in the pulse and beat of the mundane, in beauty, in love, in plays and trigger-happy-ing, in detoxifying, in fruits + vegetables and Willy Wonka movie. oh, in walking in the rain just when it starts pouring when you're blading/running on your way to east coast. that happened to jas and me today - thanks love for your sweet presence, monologue-ing your one-woman play, morphing into Ms Grumps and letting the Rhino out. sharks, i wouldnt have enjoyed this dec without you.

and new photos are up - look under the folder *Dec 05* - some are past holiday photos which never got a chance to Doppelganger-themselves (pix uploaded only recently), of which some would know what i mean when i say that each holiday presents itself differently.

one thing i'mpretty sure - no Past would repeat itself in the Future. (unless Mr-Meadow-Maker wills it to be but i seriously hope not)

2005-12-23T00:06:00.000+08:00

i love having heart-to-hearts. a Spontaneous Serendipitous Moment with eleine today whilse waiting for PeaceBaby to commence. sometimes, id like to go straight to the heart, piercing the bulls-eye of Issues, wheezing past social niceties and tact, which can often get complicated with the Gender issue if one's of the opposite sex but if your fine with that (hello fir-ry!) and do not look for more signifying gestures leading yet to other cogent, external meaning (how very po-mo. meaning always deferred), then good for you and me. i don't shock one with issues just for the sake of that Shock Factor, especially not meaning to be rude or obnoxious. curiosity may have killed the cat but not me. e. has this way of being randomly straighforward no-holds-barred i-want-to-ask-means-im-gonna-ask and i appreciate such honesty and trust.

***

called jen today. i miss you, you silly billies and the rest of you clan you guys we're gonna make our last sem in school a memorable one ok so here's to more runs + good food + chat sessions, now that there is no one here to steal me away not like i was really ever away but that just means no more tag-alongs when we just need our girlie moments and that means no more seeing those signature lined boxer shorts which is really fine with me cos then you wont say that i have to be kicked out of this clan cos i dress down awfully in order to suit someone. in short, ill see you on Christmas. Merry Christmas with much FaithHopeLove. oh, and to the ones in India and Bristol too - my other Heart-to-Hearts. and to my culture-vulture monologue-r.

***

'is it okay to kill strangers to prop up a way of life just because the people who live it are the people you love?' ~ Diary, Chuck Palahniuk

a different new perspective on u/s.

strangers = me.
way of life = your past + you.

trancendental epiphany about you whilst talking to e. such arrogance and narcissism- you - though in my heart, a sort of strange pity coupled with much pain for [felt for] you, (that much is true cos i dont want anything to be a farce), knowing that you really didnt mean to harm me in such a way, acknowledging you for that heart which you possess. i might say - a complete nightmare, though short it was and thank goodness for that. i wont ever do that to anyone (and once again im glad you dont know the existence of this blog), having been forced to give birth to a heart that fully recognizes that one's source of healing can only come from Mr-Meadow-Maker. forgiven you i have, Spite please pass me by and i know you not. letting go came easy and i now i know why it is as such -

so that i can see Hope, elusive as it is - but just enough to catch a glimmer of its piercing and glorious brightness. in the hope of better things to come, of better gifts to be bestowed upon, whatever it might be.

2005-12-22T00:43:00.000+08:00

Peace Baby Musical/Play by Calvary Assembly - come come people!

Venue: Outside Taka
Timings: 7,8 and 915 pm
Date: 22 + 23 (thurs + fri left)

2005-12-21T00:28:00.000+08:00

i am tired. just tired. i want to crawl into a cave. tiredness and dullness is infectious. people are afraid of it. they cannot deal with the personal downs of another. private pain is a public shame.

***

the language i speak now is that of the silent culture of the eyeball. i eyeball see-see look-look you. in this culture of eyeballing, this gestural language, you might perchance wonder if im speaking thru to you - the offer of a solemn friendship, the sweet promise of one's presence. what you don't understand, you can make mean anything. when words run out in this culture of tiredness and fatigue, i plead temporary insanity and a less-but-a-certainly-temporal fatigue.

one's silence does not kill. my silence is a language in itself. the eyeball acculturates itself to this culture of the Wordless Language when verbal communication becomes Bermuda-Triangulated in the aftermath of FlameDeluge. purification period can be pretty demanding on one's energy level.

i need rest in those pastures of Yours.

2005-12-18T00:10:00.000+08:00

you with that sing-song voice, calling me yaya as i come home, tugging at my heartstrings - a dull aching in my heart - knowing that it is never too late to renew a love which is only reserved for siblings, a love gone cold by our fragmented ways in this place.

you with your funny ang moh pseudo blonde hair, looking more mat with the passing of each day, you with your piercings all over - you, whom the narrow-minded typecast as the wayward, the misguided, the one-gone-wrong and me, laughing at their [mis]judgements and knowing inwardly that you possess that heart made of gold, that tender heart - only to be bled dry by their blindness to your person.

you - whom i would protect always, for whom i would not let harm befall upon.

you with that heart, in a world that knows not hearts.

***

that ring with the two separate pathways, converging into one unifying totality.

2005-12-16T22:37:00.000+08:00

been a-flying...wheeee!holidays make me really exhausted - the Butterfly comes out to Play.

sometimes my stoic presence might seem like a non-presence and my silence - a convenient yardstick for others to accrue notions of tiredness, shyness, distractedness, mind/socialrelational-draught. but nope, i take it all in, to try to discern your presences in my mind, to observe your silly/quirky/mundane habits + idiosyncracies. i find it awfully funny albeit pretty disturbing when someone says tt 'i havent seen you for a long time' - but i have. i have seen you, felt your presence in my mind. i try not to dismiss you. sometimes i keep quiet in order to get a sense of you, especially when observing group dynamics. i may take it all in - but i will give back, one day, when there is such an opportunity. Spontaneous Serendipity.

it feels like springtime now, the birds and the bees are a-humming. life, life, life.

2005-12-15T00:10:00.000+08:00

what did the blogger war do to you? it was so painful reading it - how you must have felt at that time as well as the consequences of it reverberating months from then.

don't cry. wipe the tears from your eyes - fear/anger/hate/violence is a monster. no end in sight. silent screamings in your head. maybe its good that you dont know that this blog exists.

please let FaithHopeLove reign, dear God.

2005-12-13T16:08:00.000+08:00

as marla and i were trudging arnd lil' india last night, trying to find The French Stall (which,to my great dismay,is closed for reno i think.sobs), the police cordoned off the area and we saw this black plastic covering over what i would presume to be a corpse. marla and i walked away in a state of indifference - perhaps a necessary gesture so as to keep our fear of death/violence/disaster at bay. walk on by.

am falling in love with indian sweets n i finally got my treasure for the night - the herbal spices for masala milk. i asked marla if sharing the good news/gem would be a good idea during christmas - to give out my masala spice tea/milk blend as xmas prezzies. she thought me weird. oh well, i will then stick to Conventional presents.

***

have been running on empty for the past few weeks till today (slept till 11plus.wow) and guess whilst on the way to meeting marla at night, the fatigue came crashing upon me at city hall mrt. i experienced the most surreal sensation, an out-of-body experience - saw a few backpackers on the go at the mrt station and i felt myself being displaced - to the airport, felt as if i was the one waiting to go somewhere, to travel off somewhere - me and my backpack, notebook, books, camera. Operation Wanderlust was founded on the citadel of Imagination (since ive no monetary means, a poor struggling student).

***

ive hardly any sense of you anymore. Memory just died a stoic death, with a few tears being shed as a departing gesture and im not sure why it is as such.

2005-12-03T04:17:00.000+08:00

yet another late night, and i crawl back to bed without taking off my makeup for the umpteenth time.yucks,where's your hygiene girl?another unprecedented day, trawled Arab/Bussorah St only to plop ourselves (jas+i) at Oasisblue - this cafe which played french songs + old-school ambience + international hubstop - imagine having serendipitious (ha!) conversations with strangers from all over the world, culture-vulturing.very tourist-specific locale - reminds me of the days in china. china has a place in my heart. it is the Paris of Asia.

later at night, jas' friends jims+b+don joined us. habituated fast, a scene which im not totally unfamiliar with i guess. helps that i wore my cap though. cold, cold rainy nights + doesnt help tt i was near tanjong pagar/chinatown + gut-wrenching physical sensations stabbing thru me. but supper was awesome - dim sum at geylang. they were sweet enough to really tend to me, felt real princess-y, everything catered for.

havent been sleeping very much, been on the go and running on empty. camp is coming soon, maybe tt will slow down the pace and i can foresee myself choosing to stay home/remain solitary for the last two remaining weeks of the holidays.

the Doing might be deemed good for now, but really, what gives your life meaning? i want to remain satisfied in Being. i don't want the Butterfly to be resurrected at this point, confusing the myriad of social relations with an attempt to deceive myself that im not hurting. i want to embrace it, stare at it in the eye and not run away and at the same time, not letting it morph into a Pity-Party. i dont want to do stupid, meaningless things just to transcend it at all cost. i want to know the Truth that shapes my life and not let anything be a farce.

2005-12-01T22:55:00.000+08:00

its been barely a day since liberation released the flyfreebird, but, its been an unprecedented 24hrs i must say. if you seize Life with an intensity, instead of moping around and allowingthe hours to pass -waiting, waiting, ever waiting to achieve that nirvanic nothingness (wrong dogma, i know.hee.guard the mind now) - then uncharted territories/countries within yourself would cease to be discovered, horizons would never be breached, that stranger within yourself would never be acquainted with - hatred is not an option and neither is boredom or denial. a prosaic life is tantamount to cheating yourself.

it was a first for me and firs out, haha. here's to a serendipitious life ahead and more bumps into you.
'we had a serendipitous (shasha's word of the year 2005) moment today. i realise each time we spend time together, it's always never planned. but i kinda like the spontaneity of it all. perhaps that's what make things between us unique. not knowing when next, we'll have our heart baring (wrenching) sessions. it's like watching dvd at home you know. it's comfortable and you can pause whenever you want to and continue watching when you feel like it and still be able to follow the story. i think that's a bad analogy in both sense of 'bad'.. feel loads better soon babe!' - Fir-ry's blog <http://www.fireeks.net/>

and we ate at Carl's Jr burger joint (how Americanised is tt)(but,not in a booth) at Marina Sq - which is also a first for us. Highly expensive, if u count 8 bucks for a single burger - n more importantly, even more highly overrated. we nerd-it-on in esplanade lib, both renewing our premium membership - and i borrowed 2 dvds (Together by Chen Kaige, Look Back in Anger based on dramatist John Osborne) + books. fir awed me when he mentioned tt bout a few yrs ago, he stopped renewing the premium svc cos he had almost gone thru all of the media items!

i discovered my mean streak later on at night when i hung out with marla and her friend tim, who is a year younger. i think i said 'why dont you go play with girls your age' when he and steph got a bit too comfortable with each other, making it rather awkward for me - pawing each other all over.Whateva man. i guess its just a culmination of the latent anger in me, just pushing it, just to see how far i can go. and its not even personal - this younger-guy issue cos its basically a non-issue for me. so tim was just at the wrong place, wrong time and definitely, the wrong person. goodness, i hope i dont do a meanie on anyone else. was great seeing marla again, sometimes i dont realize how much i miss her till she comes back. its always very comfortable getting it back with her. dubai, dubai, here we come - *crosses fingers.

puked loads this morn, head pounding all over,been detoxifying myself only to have it be filled up again with more junk from Macs and Ichiban Boshi with ra, ser, jen and zhen. they're my personal angels.us with our common idiosyncracies - taxi-obsession (of which im glad im not part of. the law of opportunity costs states tt i will continue to rely on buses so as to receive a higher concentration of pleasure from other commodities. the twisted world of capitalism), notebook-fetishes with all the strange writings/imaginings, book-buying and exhanging, our current signature of What-Ever-Man with the finger-twisting signs.

tom, its culture-vulture day with jas - maybe we might do haji lane. or lil india - and we'll be trigger-happy. i miss my masala milk. will avoid chinatown for now for anticipatory reasons, ones which are fully valid.

there is a Method to this Madness - and i will gladly choose The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind as its greatest signifier and liberator. the reasons given to me somehow seems disturbingly too surreal now, after some time and distance, for it to be an act of self-sacrifice on your part. i see it as absurdly stupid, stupid and stupid. what's in my heart does not correspond to the space between, for this lack of logical progression is akin to the act of suicide - the stealing away of what's meant to be and what's already in existence. akin to a helpless pawn - dominated entirely by your decisions and desires, superseding or even disregarding mine. you're the primary actor in this tragi-comedy meant for two.

the space between Wanting and Being
is known as Desire.

2005-11-29T00:17:00.000+08:00

will stop being an emo-wreck. if reality dislikes me and my guts, that doesnt mean i have to thrash reality around and parade it upon my chest like an injured badge of honour. no sirree', no thank you not me - afterall, my dear reality, would you be confounded to know that you are cognitively-constructed, that you happen to be afflicted with the forces of subjectivity? that what is being physically-perceived is but one aspect of you [reality], and if one finds a way to transcend and see beyond that which is a normative Real-ness - you lose, i win.

***
a template for me, just in case i forget. wish i could carry my lappietop w me everywhere, my trusty notebooks are such a hassle now in view of the morphing, evolutionising technophobe-turned-techno-literati! but oh yes, i still don't quite engage with msn, no friend you. but blogspot, i friend many much.

TENTATIVE PLANS FOR DEC YIPPIE! HOLS '05

LOCAL AUTHORS

- Alfian Saat, Cyril Wong

INTERNATIONAL AUTHORS

- C.S Lewis, Chuck Palahniuk, Paulo Coelho [now currently on Milan Kundera's Identity]

MY MEADOW-MAKER

- Oswald Chambers, Mary K.Baxter **rem to pack these for camp

BLOG-STOPS [Theatre, Lit]

- qlrs.com, the2ndrule.com , inkpot.com

- [read reviews on past theatre performances and maybe get scripts?/commentaries] [verbal verbiage vomit by others mean fodder for your own creativity at 2ndrule.com] [which means you might want to start submitting smtg]

FOOD-GALA-LORE

- [The French Stall] - 3-6 and 6-10pm, tues close, and belatedly but nevertheless, im jumping on the bandwagon to [Arab St]. wooo whee. p/s: Cafe Samar's food aint tt great, but ambience made me+ser+jen kinda trigger-happy and nostalgic i dunno why. tara, you're badly wanted. sob. will be thrashing out cafe haunts round spore on my own with my trusty backpack+books+umbrella+waterbottle and it'll be flyfreebird to the rescue - this is for emo-wreck vis-a-vis yours truly - m.e.

FILM

- **update lib membership to premium so can borrow dvds - musicals + what-not! at esplanade

MUSIC-OLOGY

- Junior College Band Fest [12 Dec, Esplanade] - **rem to get tix soon at sistic counters

POLITICS

- skip past all and go straight to ST Commentaries, but not before devouring Life! [how i miss our daily ritual of newspaper-reading, me starting with Life! and you, with the front page and then exchanging it with much politeness, because you demanded that knowledge has to have its share of gravity and due respect]

CORPOREAL-WELLNESS

- night runs, **indonesian lymphatic-drainage massages [check out oppo house, the new one or at siglap]

and, not forgetting PEACE BABY! Calvary's Christmas Production at outside Takashimaya on 21-23 Dec from 7-10pm - you gals better be coming aye. ill be abused and thrashed about onstage so dont miss that. kiddin. well, ill just be glad to see your presence, really ;)

will be gone for My-Meadow-Maker's (relegated to using code-words here so be smart) Camp from 5-10 Dec.

the hint of the whirlwind of activities leaves me excited. biding my hour till wed - now is tues 2am. one and a half days more. im not worried bout the exams, never been one to gung-ho bout them (unluckily enuf) - just worried about two-things else.

2005-11-28T22:43:00.000+08:00

another mother's breaking
heart is taking over,
when the violence causes silence
we must be mistaken,
its the same old theme since 1916
in your head, in your head
they're still fighting,
with their tanks and their bombs
and their bombs and their guns

they are dying.

- Cranberries, 'Zombie'

the anger is starting to Seethe.

2005-11-28T12:47:00.000+08:00

the last paper on wed is a real drag in my heart. i have been up, when im done revising for that paper (which takes up only 3 hrs max a day.ha), planning my holidays and coming up with phantom projects of my own. it is definitely God's grace that dec is in view, for i would not know how to transcend all this should it still be in the midst of sch term.

for now, i am biding my time till wed, biding the hours, waking up, deciding on breakfast, seeking out places to revise my soci paper, bringing along an extra read as a bonus/pat-pat ur doing good sha with your revision, keeping God close to me, going home in the evening, running to east coast at night just to see how far my legs can take me, strolling home along the canal, turning in with tears in my eyes but with a peace that surpasses any semblance of my understanding. the ocean was majestic yesterday, the vastness overwhelming and consuming - and knowing that i keep this in my heart - only faith, hope and love.

So here I am again
Willing to be opened up and broken
Like a flower in the rain
Tell me what have I to do
To die and then be raised
To reach beyond the pain
Like a flower in the rain
- Jaci Valesquez, 'Flower in the Rain'.

2005-11-27T16:16:00.000+08:00

i wish i could wax lyrical about how it is truly like for me at this stage of my life, and you could call it catharsis, or even the framing of memory, like how it was in my previous blog. but this medium is becoming increasingly public, and there are some things in one's heart which is irredeemably private that it transgresses one's senses to air dirty (and even if it is not) linen in public.

and also because Pain, like Loneliness and Sadness, is one of life's most private languages.

***

and in the falling away of all things, only One will ever stay.

2005-11-25T15:05:00.000+08:00

haha my dearest WY..battling wanderlust is futile. i also want...to...gai gai...fly here there everywhere. actually not quite fly la, walk also can. crickety ole buses also can, cos i like.very Old School.

wed, wed, and its all over. then i will make my own plans (haha not telling) then i will go here there roam here there (limited to good ole spore cos money no enuf) - read, smell the breeze, walk in complete anonymity, talk to strangers, heart-sharing with friends, marvel at the small wonders in life, resume evening walks/runs, indulge in serendipitous oh-hi's and how-have-you-been's and maybe-we-should-catch-up and Really Catch Up- do meadows still exist?. maybe i might wanna travel up to kl or somewhere myself, ill see first bout that. the flesh is willing, the spirit even more.

its the good ole holidays and i like that idea many many.

won't fly into cages no more.

2005-11-22T23:39:00.000+08:00

miraculously, You never fail to make me brand new. im a New Creation. daily newness and wholeness. don't make it a false alarm - Be With Me.

***

will be giving the mobile a rest for now. so dont sms/call me aye. will resurface when strengthened. don't worry, im in good hands - or, the best, ever.

2005-11-08T19:52:00.000+08:00

'It is Vic's impression that English wildlife is getting streetwise, moving from the country into the city where the living is easier - where there are no traps, pesticides, hunters and sportsmen, but plenty of well-stocked garbage bins, and housewives like Marjorie, softhearted or softheaded enough to throw their scraps into the garden, creating animal soup-kitchens. Nature is joining the human race and going on the dole'.

Nice Work, David Lodge

2005-11-06T01:48:00.000+08:00

it is a very sick feeling i sleep and wake up with. i hope its all a dream.

2005-10-30T22:10:00.000+08:00

Irony visited me today.

it is Sadness that permeates your entire being when you realize that it is Love that prevents you from leaving.
***

Indifference - a subtle layer of deliberate dis-affection holding back affection.

***

Remind me of Your gifts to me, blessings which i might take for granted - my thankful heart is Yours to love.

2005-10-29T14:31:00.000+08:00

its only now that i am fully beginning to appreciate academia, now in my last year. just 6 more months, and im out. it makes for awfully introspective and nostalgic [and everlasting] regrets - that after this, there would be no more readings on the different paradigms of knowledge/knowing, that names like Foucalt, Freud, Nietzche, or literary authors like Woolf, Plath, or even hearing the drones of Seet for all things theatre. ill go out into the world, wanting to know more, but anticipating the limitations imposed upon me by those rat-racers whose yardsticks are singularly that of The Paper. i can foresee all that - B.A. Arts and Social Sciences without Honours, possibly third class cos she skipped school for most of her 2 years, but bet she wants to know more and can never be satisfied. how's that for an uber-informal CV? i dont even know how to write a resume. ha.

gonna fly high for the next 2 weeks - the advent of Hari Raya AND essay[s] time. opportunity costs relatively high for both. the theory of economics states that i have to forego one in order to fully realize the pleasures of the other. get fat, or get mad? choose now, dear struggling student.

2005-10-28T00:29:00.000+08:00

im awfully tired, of ...

small little semblances of pettiness. i thought i was beyond that, and for a while, i was - everything slid past me and i could let go of sheer indiscrepancies, human inconsistencies and even blatant cruelty pretty easily - even magnanimously (with His help, of course. it helps to know that to be like Him is to Forgive and Forget).

and now humanly, we put a label on this aspect of my being as Indifference. am i beyond war-like syndromes and the breaking of peace or am i just beyond caring? it hurts when i care far too much. it hurts when i lost a pretty special friend a year back, i didnt know whether to live and let live or show tt the loss of the friendship mattered, and by extension - care bout it (and in the event, be tormented by the knowledge of that loss) (and the consequential question would be - are people then replaceable? is that why some go thru so many relationships/friendships? apparently, that turnover rate is obnoxiously low for me. perhaps cos of the importance i attach to people whom i hold close to my heart)

***

i saw jovian at city hall today. we seem to bump into each other at the weirdest of places - like the NUS canteen (when he's in NTU) and today whilst i was going down the escalator and he, on the opposite direction. he called it Coincidence and liked that idea. Serendipity, is that it? we have awfully 'funny' vibes with each other, extends all the way back in jc i guess...at times, we connect at a certain level and at times, we're uber aloof with each other, bordering on antagonism. i can never put a finger on this, even in retrospect. but he was one of the first few guys ive respected for being the [lone] individual tt he was, and all his strange
idiosyncracies. same with jude i guess, back then (ha, and tt leaves only 2 in AC, gender-wise, respect-wise).

***

2005-10-25T11:23:00.000+08:00

my bird-call, chirrup chirrup - the bird cage is too small, can't you see?

like plath and hughes - but my head's not heading for the oven. she needed a rebirth, hughes, couldn't you tell?

trapped, in all her materiality - and in mine.

my mind's a-flying, and you soberly complain about my artificiality, my inability to bare my soul.

your cage is far too small.

2005-10-14T15:36:00.000+08:00

might be a really belated sort of enlightenment, but i really do like writing soci papers. compared to lit essays, they give me more leeway to fathom with my brains, go with the flow and play by ear - all without the need for secondary readings cos they make sense to me. compared to the characters in lit - far too elusive, too opaque and complex, i cant underpin their existence and unravel them into simple points. too late, far too late.

***

21 is the year for adventure - foodie-wise (but as with every other year). but seriously, my counterparts, as they age with grace, are refining their sense of taste. gone are the days of Macdonalization or Starbucks-ism (disclaimer: Starbucks still hold the fortress for fast-food-cafe-style-mass-consumerism-coffeeish-places). now, we go to exotic (albeit not-quite-so-authentic) Turkish restaurants at east coast (serrie darling!). now, we are moving on from Marmalade Pantry (Palais Renaissance) to Haji Lane/Arab Street, lil India, Chinatown, Geylang, Beach Rd, seeking for the authentic good stuff instead of riding along rip-offs like NYDC, Coffee CLub and what-not.

open to experimentation, always. even at hawker centres, i will press on till i find my perfect bak chor mee/porridge/tea-rice. increasingly, ive fallen in love all over again with vegetables. i wont do without them.

2005-10-10T13:14:00.000+08:00

divine poetic justice, or so you say. but i beg to differ - cos He will not wreck vengeance, or wish to heap harm upon His children, and if i cannot stand upon that one true thing that i know is true in this world of falsity, then i might as well not live.

i have slain Memory, for my rebirth into a new creation necessitates that i must do so in order to fly. am i imposing my will upon your disbelief that Memory must be killed in order to father the offspring of a new life, or a new heart?

the phantoms of your past sit in that corner where you are - and i act as the gatekeeper, the door thru which you depend on to shutslambang, to shore vehemently against those unsubstantial beings borne of by Memory . but real they are to me, and substantial indeed, for they take a form in reality which blinds you to the image of me. for what am i but a mirror through which you peek into, reflecting the past in Safe Mode?

i am your Sanity, the Non-Sexual Muse, the Superego controlling the overflow of your tormented soul, or your even-more-grazed heart. i am the sensible girl, the no-go-partyhavefunfunfun, the one to soothe-heal-mend, the Heart-Weaver - or so you claim.

in other words, an Object, with a specific function.

my heart inwardly grieves, for the subject at hand accommodates not reality as we know it to be, but those very phantoms, those ideas, those thoughts, those memories which compete with my presence.

and they will win, for i am but your wallpaper.

no flower-power for the wallflower.

2005-10-05T16:02:00.000+08:00

it was in my head to comment on the nature of how Po-Mo (flash-flash term for postmodernism) is taking over the world - how disjointed everything is, how we're living simulated reality, forever performing, enacting and referencing to other cultures, how we're cultural orphans and embracing all cultures of the world (ie: the term 'Malay' has lost its organic meaning. and hence the need to stereotype, sad as it is, as a means ot garner a hold on culture. like your derogatory term of a 'minah' - double edged as it is, cos it serves a higher, more lofty purpose - to reference to your ethnicity, to affirm one's ethnic and cultural sensibility)

but firs has already done that in his blog - 'so po-mo' - and hence your sms to me some immemorial past back, bout our imagined connectivity.heh)

actually, my whole point wasnt to write bout all the rubbish i wrote on top. understand, that i have just exited a recent socio class just barely 5 mins ago and my mind's running wild.

my po-mo-ness stems from (like firs) the increasing fragmentation of my thoughts.
i think i have the attention span of a two-year old kid.
i can barely hold a thought for 5 mins (unless i engrave it, concretize it on paper/laptop) cos im so used to multi-tasking nowadays, in betwixt classes, on buses, during meals.

right now, one thought - i am reading my life away. all my characters get mixed up, they jump from one grand narrative to another, they have a life of their own and the real ones pale - become wallpapers, as i brush past them without taking in their presence.

i think i have Selective-Presence-Tendency. How Po-Mo. How Psychology. How Literature. How Social Science. How Harry-Potter-and-His-Invisible-Cloak.

2005-09-29T18:18:00.000+08:00

'His madness was not of the head, but heart.' A mad heart. What is a mad heart?

Disgrace, J.M Coetzee

***

2005-09-22T21:44:00.000+08:00

they say everything else is Vanity.

then delude yourself, deny vanity and its wanton nature, engorging upon itself, a self-mutilated body of pleasure disguised as sin. or am i wrong - sin disguised as sublime pleasure?

my writing is vanity, my thoughts its perpetual partner-in-crime, and there seems to be only one way to free oneself from that yoke, that burden. yet deliverance is nay, nigh, no, to the sobless vain. i pay homage to a self-denial of sorts.

so i stop writing, so these thoughts would cease clouding my unfettered mind, lest i suffer from a cerebral hangover - its manifestations more deadly than that of the intoxicated drunk.

but my thoughts are held captive, disallowed expression, quaking in fear in an anticipation of a release -always deferred, always second-hand.

under surveillance, one completely banishes these thoughts, only to realize that Freud would have been proud of himself - that smart-brained theorist. and so my heartfelt kudos to the Father of the Super-Ego and the Id, immortalized in my impressions, acknowledging that this cannot go on further. self-denial has its repercussions.

and as usual, i speak in concentric circles, in metaphors unknown to the dumb, the deaf, the blind.
self-censorship ceases when i face my own subjective truths, and re-align my vision, climbing that upward hill, sticks and stones may break my bones but words, words ,are all i have - towards the higher Truth, insignificant as i am, unworthy and undeserving as i am.

my first un-vainglorious act of the day. so help me please. mere mortals in flesh and blood have an undisguised need for divine s.o.s., quite often i must say.

argh.eek. i feel crabby.

2005-09-14T12:09:00.000+08:00

how would it be if i were to leave singapore for 2 years cos im based overseas? a year from now.

flyfreebird tendencies dictate these impulses, but someone once said that it must be coupled with these two feet bound to the ground, and in my heart i am projecting the relationships with the people i hold close to my heart as one of the most strongest forces disallowing such [selfish?is it a necessity to disregard such impulses?under what conditions and to what ends?] personal desires to materialize?

im not telling, and i face it, even to myself.

someone once wanted to go to australia to further the studies.
someone once wanted to travel the world.
someone once wanted to explore human relationships.
someone once wanted to free oneself from obligations,

not i, not i, but because of me.

we are mirrors of each other - bound by a tendency to imitate, to perfom the desires of the other, failing to allow oneself to smash the Mirror, to break free from expected roles and conventions.

the human mind interrogates, and in that liminal space, we wait for answers. Revelations from the Divine One to illuminate these stupid questions we mortals ponder upon. stupid, because of its circularity, and stupid, because it might not be along the path of His will for us.

foolish mortals, and i am all the more foolish for problematizing everything.

2005-09-10T13:14:00.000+08:00

i ll say, i ll say
i love you so
because the world cant take away Your love.

because i miss You so. because this love You have for me surpasses everything else.
because i am soul-weary and i am finding ways and means to tell You how much i love you, i am anxious to let You know how much it means for me that You know, just know, in all simplicity, no complications, no human pettiness, in all purity, that i love You, dear Father God.

it aches so much because i miss You so.

McHappiness and McSchool

2005-08-20T20:38:00.000+08:00

ra had a Macdonald's birthday party for his 21st - for a big boy, it was a pretty Interesting one - think 'wash your hands before we eat our Happy Meals'/funky chicken dance/McHappy meals complete with our toys and McBalloons/musical chairs of which i was one of the last vestiges of survivors before i decided i was having far too much fun n getting competitive n squashing the butt's of the other (big) kids/McSmiles complete with my favorite people - ser, jen n zhen/choo-choo train forfeits around Novena McDonald's/party hats with name tags and best of all, a McDonald Birthday Cake. wow.

other than that, a non-sequitur courtesy of zhen;

sha, you're like a turtle - you carry your whole house along with you.

aha. it reeks of flyfreebird, (whatever it means to you and everything that means to me) , donch ya think?

***

will update the photos soon.
meanwhile on another note, for those interested in browsing low-brow academia-ish entries (actually cos its a requirement for one for my lit modules (The Body: Politics,Poetics,Perception) cos this alternative blog would be graded.

http://theflyfreebird.blogspot.com

how funky. dance the funky chicken dance sha lala.

***

2005-08-17T17:23:00.000+08:00

nutshell is a nutshell does.
in oversimplying oneself, you reduce complexities, and what if you find an empty core to your name, a bad nut, as Willy Wonka, in his visionary eyes would have sized you up. let this life be beautiful, and in that innermost essence of Beauty, ill lend you my eyes through which to see the world - in all its ugliness, in all its subliminal force unhinging your very being, in its most banal and mundane state.

beauty is as beauty does.
my vision of reality may not be yours to grasp, but on days when i watch Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, on days when i walk alongside canals just to have a whiff of the sea, on days when i really look beyond what you are and start seeing who you are, maybe, just maybe, those new eyes might just emerge.

2005-08-12T14:44:00.000+08:00

because i love my friend serene, i shall oblige her with an update since she requested for one. mostly on my mind - yay, last year in school - yay, for two things - i am embracing school for once this sem, loving the various kinds of knowledge that is to come, and yay for finally letting go of the social yardsticks of academia for i come armed with my own set expectations of what i want from, tritely putting it, this 'university experience' so to speak. being grade-focus has gotten me nowhere but brought me all the evil ills of human miseries and woe - jadedness, fear and so forth , which leads to an eventual dwindling presence in class and a consequential pull-out, both that of the physical and mental. i stopped enjoying school and that, i think, is very sad because all my lit and theatre classes came to naught (and i brought along with me nothing).

other than that, i honestly hate work. let me be a full-time student, i promise i wont spend so much on ichiban boshi, starbucks, my quest for bak chor mee in singapore, my vanity products in the quest for a more luminiscent skin, or mindlessly buying all unnecessary potentially harmful items that will burn holes in pockets. i think steamboat might also count ;)

2005-07-10T10:13:00.000+08:00

china, china. what can i say.

china reeks of the re-evaluation and re-positioning of multiple issues i hold close to my heart. it wasn't just the culture (being the Culture-Vulture, everything Devour), or the physical terrain which overwhelmed the imagination, or the company i kept or rather that kept me, or the non-company which held me in all its comforting silence.

it was the chance to fully soar, to be free from social inhibitions back home, to read Rushdie by the mountain-top, to dance with the villagers under moonlight and a prettypretty sky, to wake up amonst gorges and wander off alone, conversations on politics, culture and relationships with intimate strangers, to trek and activate the trekking-wanderlust (Tibet/Nepal anyone?ha, maybe shall conquer m'sia first), to have my friend gecko by my side and stolen personal moments with her away from the group and our whimsical need for un-rootedness -- breaking and exploring new barriers in relation to ourselves, the larger world at hand, and God.

i took everything in.

***

fresh starts. clean slates. now that im back.

trying makes me tired, its best to Let Go and Let Live/Life. He reassures me that His hand is in my life. Renewed blessings and (even more) renewed hope. My gifts from God i will treasure graciously. you know, i tried, can't you see, did'nt you see, even before i left?

***

gecko girl, be good and take care now. wish i could fly with you, and have the freedom to soar. do meet more eccentric/weird/quirky/quaint people, remember, they comfort you when you're alone (ha, but not lonely cos i know you're basking in your sense of anonymity in China).

***

the Bard, the Owl and the Words that Went Missing

2005-06-14T15:36:00.000+08:00

you took me by suprise and gave me back the words. the mute-face ceases to exist and now this jabbering mouth cant stop yakking away. the walls were fractured in the face of His grace and mercy and i have no fear or skepticism left - of you or anyone else for that matter.

***

the Bard findeth the magic words, poetry resounding out of his very lips.
the Owl sits there, captured, enraptured, without any words of her own.

***

2005-05-25T12:22:00.000+08:00

oh no, what did i do?whats this Hi -5 thing going on? i clicked on it in hotmail, cos its so persistent and i ended up sending mass subscriptions to everyone else, marketing Hi-5 when i didnt mean to join it. oh no.oh no.enlighten me, someone pls.

***
ser darling, happy 21st. as ive mentioned, may you age gracefully, wisdom shall be you and Love for Him and yourself and me and Mankind in general will be your guiding light. 21 now, so dont do naughty things anymore, we gotta act a bit more pro now. hope you liked your impromptu birthday mini-bash courtesy of myself, jen and zhen with our lau-pok cheapskate but awesome(no less) choc truffle cake. bet you've never had sucha farnee-barnee birthday like this ,ever, so guess who but us can pull this off..rule of thumb - spontaneity rules. expectations are never good.

***

its really weird, but somehow or rather i have mixed emotions bout the China trip. on one hand, id love it, no kidding, cos of all the cultural, physical, social and emotional challenges it would pose, but on the other, it boils to a simple - i'll MISS. ill miss everything that is back here, ill miss all the opportunities for bondings and soul chats (my fav. activity!) and just being in familiar company. ill miss. would you be missing me? how, how, how.

will be back by 5th jul (departing 15th june)- ive no autoroaming nor internet access at all. how, how, how?

i know - write letters! yes, yes, write to me before i go off, ill savour all that is written each n everyday.

i want to be a word,
so that i can have meaning.
so you would understand
everything.

2005-05-22T23:02:00.000+08:00

it was good hanging out with jen n ser now tt the holidays are here.Simply put, i dont feel so lonely. oftentimes i feel like the floor could eat me up when in the midst of large gps of people - i may be surrounded yet the non-connection is evident. i want one-to-one. Simple Heart, could You help me out a little dear God? Simple Heart knows me the best, i dont feel so lonely when i talk to Him when humans are evidently disconnected. presence is over-rated.

so we went to eat Ya Kun Kaya Toast n jen gave me a Mr Tofu-Grouch n then to Ichiban Boshi (Wisma)(love the food heaps, our new hangout sushi palace ya ok ok?addiction kicks in). you know you are lagging greatly behind when everyone has car licences except for you but i will not succumb, i will not drive. then we meandered around to find arab st (Jen is a dangerous but skilled driver.kudos) and checked out Cafe Samar. real eclectic and exotic - all Palestinian-Middle Eastern inspired.

Simple Heart has been blessing me with these friends. love them heaps-sie heap. we've come to the stage where we dont feel the need to entertain each other - just their mere presence fills me with gladness. take for example, in Samar, i was reading Life, jen was reading erh..Blurb i think the smu publication n ser was entertaining herself with some pro-islamic publication ok im rusihng noe\w cos im at the airport gotta take the last bus so tata. so my point is ..i dont want superficiality in relationships, i want depth, i dont want pre-conceived notions , i want you to challenge myself and be surprised by the gamut of the differing sides that an individual can possess. hopes the wall comes crashing down. Simple Heart, no more walls can?

2005-05-17T13:29:00.000+08:00

zhen turned 21 the other day.with much muackie muacks and happy blow-wind-blow kisses, this dear girl has had a quiet presence in my life. many of my old-is-gold friends usually do - we lead non-intrusive independent lives apart from each other but deep within each of us is a secret gold thread that binds our hearts, ties them with such quiet force that withstand much of the weathering of time and distance. Esp those two, since our lives revolves much around the windmills of Time and Distance.

the beautiful birthday girl and her pretty cake (icing courtesy of shooby) - oh btw this is the girl i spent V. day this year with, nursing hearts over dvds n home-made foodie n girl talk alright and no less.
go to : http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=lifewithfleur (13 may, 2005)

***

jen oh jen, wherefore art thou coming back from taiwan? im missing you you know that. got plenty of stories to tell. but ive no more stories to make if you dont come back. we gotta get back on track AND on the track to run.

***

hope deferred? ive got that hope in my heart! tender heart, be still and be very tender (not medium well, not medium rare. but rare and juicy and juicier still) and maybe you wont be all that cryptic or disillusioned or cynical. out, out, out!

***

3 jabs and that was a superwoman feat for me.the needles were huge, but the bacterias huge-r. flu has run its course and hopefully for another yr or so while it radiates/recycles/travels round my body, these live germs would kick the butts of any flu viruses that comes near this fragile frame of mine. bye bye FLU, it was nice getting acquainted with you. you saw me thru the exams and brought along your best-friend Mr.Fever entirely unannounced, you were still with me thru the beginning of the holidays when i should be alive n well, thru delirium n what-not. you were my over-rated friend when human presence were, for a time, absent. for now, however, i wish to communicate with my earthly companions in my image and not just with you. you made me awfully depressed so i dont quite like you very much.

Farewell, Mr. Flu. Rest In Peace (and no less).

2005-05-02T23:04:00.000+08:00

one more paper. one more paper.im echoing jen.

i reallysuper-un-deliciouslyREALLY would never evereverever wanna move house.im so tired, its a real chore juggling the exam and moving house. this time, its for real- the moving that is.there are four of us now in the house.more than that, if u count the number of people in and out of our house just to pass us food (gma,aunt) and be fishes (to swim- cousins). it gets claustrophobic, im not used to people coming in and out of my sanctuary.

live report fm the computer nomad- this time, ive found a new place - wonderswonders --- at the airport (hoho only staff can access to the departure halls besides airline passengers) they hv free internet access, free phonecalls. if im careful enough, i can even lounge in here for hours. its really cool here. anonymity rules.and i kinda like that.

the rainbows that make me happy

2005-04-27T15:27:00.000+08:00

im depressingly sick, fever flu and all and today is my first exam and have morphed into a crybabycry since mon (phonecalls, pls avoid me. humans, do likewise - else you shall be germed by my snifflysnuffles, nose-wise and tear-wise).

but.

as in all things, there is Always a B.U.T.
nothing is absolute, i dont like absolutes actually. im an anti-reductionist.

i am happy.
perhaps its the weather (sunday sunny weather makes me the happiest!perhaps, wed too) , perhaps its the lightheartedness that i feel (im not sure induced by what). but i am happy, happy and thankful about the slightest thing in my life. happy that i still have you and you and you and you and you and many other significant you's to share my existence with, happy that in the process of Living, i've learnt much about Life (at least up to this stage of my 21 years of life) - mistakes all-incorporated. happy that i've found some, lost some, kept some.

the fever, headaches, flu, exams and all wont keep me down.
You will sustain me, You will provide all that i need - my happiness, my peace, my desires and any seeming lack - either in time to come or as of now.