just because things are different now doesn't mean i should doubt the sincerity of the past - right? it doesn't change the things you said - does it? i remember how jeremy puts it, 'people don't change, it's just the way they treat you that changes.'

maybe.

m : its funny, huh. how we both ended up doing arts.
s : yes it is.
m : it suddenly struck me as strange, oh well.
s : you know i think i got influenced alot by you
s : like ALOT
m : umm, yay?
s : haha
m : what do you mean
s : yes its gd i guess
m : i dont think i've gotten influenced drastically by anyone. so far.
s : thats fine
s : i just think that alot of your ideas and thoughts, i kinda have also now
m: such as?
s : i dont really know how to say it
m : what do you think my ideas and thoughts are
s : just like similarities that i would have never had if i didnt meet you i guess
m : i think i've changed quite a bit..
s : alright, but what im talking about is the you like 3years back
m : what was that
m : i dont know if i really remember
m :except that i was angsty
s : i can't really explain it
s : dont ask me to tell you what you are or were cos i cant
s : i just know that i developed quite an interest for lit and stuff like that
s : the finer things in life
s : rather than sciences
m : finer things in life, hmm..
m : well, that is good. i mean, yeah
s : who's to say whether its good or bad
s : i think its been fine
s : so it works

i always have to disagree about things with everyone. does that make me narrow minded and self centred? maybe. i don't think i changed you, maybe i helped you discover that which you knew not of. i don't think there is such a thing as 'changing people' - you just discover it. it's not a change ... i think it was always there, except you didn't know it. and that works for everyone else as well. change and continuity - no one in particular has really helped me discover something about myself in the deepest sense possible. of course i've had many self-discoveries - but all through something general : drama, lessons, church, etc. many a time i think i'm far too stubborn and unwilling to let people really get to me.

don't read too much into all this. i'm not relating this to any particular person, but the conversation above that i had last night just struck a chord, somehow.

is it painful? hell, yes. but i'm surviving. i don't think you know how much it hurts when we talk now - if you'd even bother to notice, you'd realize i've been laying off you for quite a while now when we used to talk every other day before. it's a self preservation thing.

today i saw my college counselor. he told me to stop worrying about 'rubbish' (in relation to RDs and school choices and etc) and concentrate on this final week of work. i guess i should really take his advice to heart (this is all trash, this is all trash). lit is fun and scary. math is just plain scary. mmmm, Onward.

+ posted by M @ 6:35 PM

...	Sunday, October 30, 2005

I am sorry to have so many girls in love with me, but as there is nothing to be very vain of in the success of these amours, I think I may tell the truth without scruple. Merceret, younger and less artful than Giraud, never made me so many advances, but she imitated my manners, my actions repeated my words, and showed me all those little attentions I ought to have had for her. Being very timorous, she took great care that we should both sleep in the same chamber; a circumstance that usually produces some consequences between a lad of twenty and a girl of twenty-five.

For once, however, it went no further; my simplicity being such, that though Merceret was by no means a disagreeable girl, an idea of gallantry never entered my head, and even if it had, I was too great a novice to have profited by it. I could not imagine how two young persons could bring themselves to sleep together, thinking that such familiarity must require an age of preparation. If poor Merceret paid my expenses in hopes of any return, she was terribly cheated, for we arrived at Fribourg exactly as we had quitted Annecy.

from The Confessions of Jean-Jacques Rousseau

oh how terribly terribly amusing. i laughed and laughed as i read this. the candidness is simply endearing.

and yes, here is a BAND ALERT! been listening to the band Low Millions, lately. no idea if it's old or new, well i really like what i hear from them. unfortunately it's hard to find their songs through downloads - i might have to get the CD [if hmv even brings it in].

as you notice i've been blogging and reading stuff on the internet a lot, it gets like this when i am upset by something [someone] - but sometimes the internet is very much one whole big book! filled with pages of people's lives and desires. people of the world! some are very interesting [some blogs] and some are rather funny and sad [post secret, dead letter directory. so very sad they are, i wish people would stop wasting themselves with these secrets and regrets]. i've also been musing about the phenomenon of 'raining frogs' [caused by hurricanes it seems] and wishing very much that i had disovered my love and interest in geog a lot sooner and begged to take Lit History Geog instead of Lit History math.

no colour can really express how i feel about those subjects, but well [and lit and history and goeg are obviously not of equal importance to me!]. have spent a lot of time this weekend reading - but i have an excuse! i need to mull over something that has inspired me so that i can write a chicago essay about it [which is due on tuesday!]. the hard part is picking out which work of art to write about, because there are simply too many. and sadly many times i think i'm more inspired than inspirational. what's the use of being inspired if you're not in turn inspirational? i wish i was more inspirational, but well.

oh i have said 'but well' too many times, what does it mean?

only an aching heart
conceives a changless work of art

WB Yeats

+ posted by M @ 8:17 PM

...

‘I feel, like Beckett, that all poetry is prayer.’ So where does that sit poetry in the twenty first century, in this confusing and bloody world of ours? I’ve been thinking about that’ she says, ‘ Male novelists and dramatists are getting very documentary now, aren’t they? As though that is somehow more serious. Poetry can’t be documentary. I’m not sure that any of the arts should be – but poetry, above all, is a series of intense moments – its power is not in narrative. I’m not dealing with facts, I’m dealing with emotion.’

- Carol Ann Duffy

oh yes! oh yes! oh yes!!

SO, am currently re-reading Jeanette Winterson's The.Powerbook, having finished Kitchen Confidential [which was good fun and very interesting! read it, if food interests you!] . every word Winterson writes is just beautiful. apart, yet conjoined with the others. beautiful, beautiful, like spun out of the magical thread used to build The Emperor's clothes - it's there, yet it's not. she writes so seamlessly, so completely, so measuredly, yet rippling with emotion.

There is no penance that can calm love and no regret that can make it bitter.

You are closed and shuttered to me now, a room without doors or windows, and I cannot enter. But I fell in love with you under the open sky and death cannot change that.

Death can change the body but not the heart.

you feel differently depending on the mood with which you read - for now, LOVE IS EVERYTHING. it is everything to me, that and a broken heart. i find myself so deeply drawn into her words, because of this.

a 'language costumier' - how apt. her writing reflects everything of the book - IT IS THE STORY. the words are the story, they don't make up the story, THEY ARE the story.

i feel i would like to do something with The Powerbook. direct it, make it a play - that would be an interesting idea and right now i feel i absolutely HAVE to watch the theatre adaptations of it should i ever get a chance!

goodness. there is so much beauty, so much poetry! and i feel i am not fully equipped to take it all in - drink it all in, i want to drink it all in. so much beauty, so little time and so little of me to discover it. so much art .. so much beauty. i know i'm repeating myself and often i feel envious because i am so clumsy with words and expressing myself, but oh, beautiful!

ODE TO THINGS

I HAVE A CRAZY
Crazy love of things.
I like pliars,
and scisssors.
I love
cups
rings
and bowls -
not to speak, of course,
of hats.
I love
all thing,
not just
the grandest,
also
the infinitely
small-
thimbles,
spurs,
plates,
and flower vases.

Oh yes.


PABLO NERUDA

+ posted by M @ 11:10 AM

...	Saturday, October 29, 2005

your love was
(it's not for me anymore)
like blackforrest cake

not a usual favourite of mine,
but yours was the best i ever
had

i watched you build it
in front of me, first layer (first time)
promising, dark, possibly
decadent i knew i was asking
for something i couldn't take
something i might never get
accustomed to

never complete without the
second layer, is it?
more cream more cherries
we redid it all the time
peeling off the layers to add on
take away

never quite ready
never quite right
let's wait for it to finally
feel right

finally
feel
right

but
finally

we thought,
'enough'
let's finish this
frosted, dusted, shelved -
perfect

(we made a miscalculation)

the cherries:
while we were waiting
they bled themselves dry.

+ posted by M @ 11:17 PM

...

is it even possible to be hung over from caffeine? i'm now addicted to it, which is really not a good thing.

i really can't do this right now.

BUT I HAVE TO. SUCK IT UP, MEL. A LEVELS ARE IN PRACTICALLY 1 WEEK. YOU WRTR DOING JUST FINE UNTIL NOW. YOU NEED TO GET A GRIP AND YOU WILL.

yes, PINTER CONRAD HUXLEY HERBERT SHAKESPEARE ELIOT MAO STALIN KHRUSHCHEV GORBY REAGAN PNI BURMA MALAYA PAP HERE I COME.

and that goes for you too, INTEGRATION APGP TRIGO DIFFERENTIATION STATS AND THE WHOLE LOT.

time to work.

+ posted by M @ 12:38 PM

...

maybe this isn't going to be as easy as i thought it would be.

it's hard when half the songs in my ipod remind me of you, not to mention that half of my phone's contents remind me of you as well. both of which are constantly at my disposal. everywhere i glance, i make instant connections in my head - almost all of them to you. something triggers off something which in turn triggers off something and eventually i'm faced with the memory of the time i smiled when you said this, or that, or something else.

not a good time at all, for this. but when has life ever gone according to plan? maybe i should have told you i wasn't going to wait forever, like i planned to tell you but never did. and now, i realize that it wasn't just me, it was the both of us that couldn't carry on this game of waiting for the other.

yes, i will miss all the little things you do and say [because i will always remember that which you did and said]. and somehow, out of a desperation to have clarity, i partly wish i could erase this, forget this temporarily so i can get on with things. but erasing memories don't help much, do they? and ultimately, i can't bear to erase the contents of my phone, my ipod. it makes it harder at present, but what's the use in pretending things never happened? when they did, and when some time in the not so distant future i will look at these things again and not feel the wistfulness i feel now, but rather, the happiness of those times.

don't get me wrong. there are a lot of maybes, a lot of what ifs, a lot of wishes to forget so as not to feel this constantly.

but there are no regrets. this time, i don't regret anything. it feels right this way, though it is painful. things that are right aren't always happy.





alright. enough, this is enough to live with now.

+ posted by M @ 2:59 AM

...	Friday, October 28, 2005

so while in the library
i thought of many things
trying to be intellectual insightful inspiring

to be special to anyone who mattered

to what purpose?
the gnawing sound of my handphone,
buzzing desperately atop my books
drilling the table with a frenzy

1 message received
and in reading it -
all is shot to hell

for what does it matter

anymore.

that was a crap poem. i don't know what's gotten in to me. well, actually i do know. and i know something else - i can't write. or at least, i can't write poetry anymore. it's too painful, too painful to see it all screw up like that.

falling in love is glamorous hell

says Carol Ann Duffy. i'm not sure she's got it completely right - falling out of it hasn't proved any better, judging from the way things are now.

there are a good many things i thought of today. things i wanted to say. things that might be important and enriching. but i can't say them. because right now, all that comes to mind is an emptiness - an immediacy that affects me deeply. all those thoughts, all those theories may be pretty and ponderous - but to what purpose? the slate is washed clean by a single blow to the heart.

for a reason i am unable, yet able, to fully fathom, my heart aches. maybe i should have said some things to you. maybe i should have played my cards differently [as though you were a gamble - were you? or am i imagining things]. it got to the point where it was an ALMOST. i was ALMOST happy. i was ALMOST sure. everything was an ALMOST with us. things aren't an ALMOST for you anymore - and now, in turn, they aren't for me either.

why this inexplicable sadness when nothing belonged to me in the first place? almost doesn't count, it doesn't, much as i liked to believe it did. my strong reaction, this deep seated sadness, this EMOTION is utterly illogical, but yet ... it's real, it's true.

and already, in the midst of saying all this as though my heart has been smashed to smithereens, i know equally well that while this hurts like a less than glamorous hell - life goes on. i will forget this eventually, with time, just as i've forgotten most heartbreaks completely. i've questioned my past and wondered why i reacted so strongly - was it worth that much sadness? was i that much in love to feel that way? - it puzzles me how i've reacted before, when i look back.

so i cannot say i am all too ripped up about this. because while my heart feels the pain, my mind still works well enough to tell me i will survive [which is strange, because the mind doesn't usually work on occasions of heartbreak]. i will wake up tomorrow. i will live to see another sunset. i will be alive, even if i may not be happy - and happiness may be worth everything, but i'm willing to take the chance of life in order to try and experience it [for what good is dying? no love to be found there, nor joy, but only the regret of a life half-lived].

maybe i've never allowed myself to feel that much. nothing has left a scar yet, and i find myself thinking that perhaps i just don't have the capacity for it - for loving completely, for throwing myself over the cliff because of a broken heart. sure, at that point i thought i did, i thought the pain was so great i could die. but after reflection, i find it was a trifle, that it meant almost nothing and that i recovered without a stitch. does this mean i did not love deeply enough - after all, if i put my all into it, wouldn't i be completely destroyed by now?

These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
And in the taste confounds the appetite.
Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

are these really words to live by? i think i loved moderately enough this time, and i still feel the familiar sense of desolation, though not expressed as dramatically as before. no tears this time, just a dull ache in the heart - which proves more an annoyance than a sharp jab. the sharp jabs of the past evoked an intense pain for that flash of time and then go away, this dull ache lingers and is far worse.

but with me, there's always self-preservation involved. and i've not been able to go that extra mile for you, and believe me, i'm sorry about it - sorry for myself.

so i will move on to the Next. truth be told, i'm scared of this ability to move on, of this 'survival' mindset - i do want to be vulnerable, i do want something that is no-holds-barred, i do want all that and i'm afraid i will never find it, never feel strongly and permanently enough about anything. the very fact that i can write this demonstrates my will to go on. maybe i haven't found the right YOU, maybe. i shall cling on to my 'maybe's.

for now, it's time to pack up and board the next train to wherever i might be going.

but i will at least say this, even if not to you, for this writing is more for myself than anything else [yes, selfish selfish, 'me me me', and i can provide no excuse for that] -

thank you.

+ posted by M @ 8:42 PM

...	Thursday, October 27, 2005

so today, for a moment, i felt how Marlow in Heart of Darkness felt about lies ['there is a taint of mortality in lies']. i was reading the Newsweek article about Pinter:

'The TV news report last Thursday announcing that renowned British playwright and poet Harold Pinter had died was surprising only to the few who did not know he had been diagnosed with cancer in 2002.'

i got a shock, and for some reason felt a great sense of sadness. and anger - Cancer! The Killer which our bodies can't fight, that makes our bodies its home despite resistance. such futility! such powerlessness! is it not sad? also, it would have been Immensely Ironic, had he received the nobel prize after he died, i thought at first. and then i realized, 'he can't receive it after he dies, can he?' anyway, i felt intensely sad [like the world was pulled out from underneath my feet!] and i don't know why. then, i read on:

'The corrected version, following a painful pause that could only be described as Pinteresque, was more of a shock: he hadn't died, he'd simply been awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. Until the announcement, Pinter's name had barely figured on this year's list of possible candidates. Theatregoers on his home turf in London would scarcely have known that he had celebrated his 75th birthday just a few days earlier. The occasion was marked by a single radio play on the BBC, a snub that typifies British attitudes toward the controversial author.'

it is rather sad, if the British truly don't appreciate Pinter. i mean, heck, even i appreciate what people like Ivan Heng and Eric Khoo [not to mention countless other poets such as Alfian Sa'at and Alvin Pang] are doing for the arts in Singapore [and they're no where near Pinter's stature].

i am still upset by the fact that Pinter has cancer.

'Earlier in the week, Mohamed ElBaradei, head of the International Atomic Energy Agency, had been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Both choices were perceived as criticisms of American foreign policy. "Pinter is just about the biggest and sharpest stick with which the Nobel committee can poke America in the eye," commented The Times of London, nothing his impassioned antiwar stance. Standing on the steps of his London home to speak to reporters after the announcement, Pinter declared, "Iraq is just a symbol of the attitude of Western democracies to the rest of the world," adding that he might use his acceptance speech to "address the state of the world."'

i'm not really sure how i feel about this. in a way, i do feel sad that the Nobel Prize committee have political agendas but i suppose nothing is ever free of political sentiment [look at Emmys, Grammys, Oscars etc]. it just seems rather sad and degrading to offer a playwright an award not purely based on the quality of his work but rather due to his political leanings. at the same time, my respect for Pinter has increased a whole deal. while i am usually of the belief that Art is Art regardless of the Creator - i think generally, the fact that we know who was behind the work [and i mean know in the sense that we know their backgrounds, etc] will inevitably taint our reaction to the work. for example, i may love Winston Churchill's writing and think it is really eloquent, but i detest the fact that he needed war in order to sustain his leadership and hence don't have much respect for him. my liking of a work and my respect of the person who created it is mutually exclusive i suppose - my liking of a work doesn't cause my respect for the person, but merely an Admiration of his brilliance/perceptiveness etc. two of which are different reactions, at least in my mind.

then again - where do we draw the line? do we condone great works of Art as Great Works even when the Creator is a scoundrel? will this encourage amorality - the attitude of, 'oh he was a terrible person but his poetry was beautiful and that's all that matters'. can a morally hollow person truly produce beautiful work? sometimes i doubt it. art is a manifestation of oneself and an expression of one's deepest desires/views/dreams and even, dare i say, SOUL. if one has a morally bankrupt SOUL [by morally bankrupt i would mean one who condones killing, rape, etc. let's not complicate it by getting into the grey areas], how can one's art be beautiful? by beautiful i do not mean aesthetically pleasing - plenty of the works we see today use grotesque and violent means to convey moral ideals [Requiem For A Dream - the film maker uses drugs, sex and eating disorders to convey something greater and inexplicably MORAL]. hence, if immoral themes and images are used as tools with which the Creator conveys an essentially moral message - is there even a moral issue? i am inclined to think not. it's all a question about whether the means justify the ends - and while its hard to determine in black and white, i find myself believing that often, when it comes to art, the means DO justify the ends. yet, many other instances do prove me wrong, as well [and i know that yet more will].

so what is the purpose of art? should the purpose of art be in general [in the BIGGER PICTURE] to convey moral values? i am also inclined to believe so. art is meant to enrich one's soul with beauty, insights on how to make one's life more beautiful, to educate, to make one REALIZE i must not Be Like THIS [whatever THIS may be, because often we do not lead our lives the way it SHOULD be].

a lot of the time, artists use objects of ugliness, the ugliness of human nature, the ugliness of life and generally UGLINESS to create BEAUTY and convey BEAUTY to the reader/audience/viewer. and that is what is so amazing! Heart of Darkness, for example. the whole book is bleak, dark and a continuous expose of the Darkness Within Man but it is BEAUTIFUL! it is a BEAUTIFUL work by Conrad! it is what is Conrad DOESN'T WRITE that makes us realize we HAVE to be better people, we HAVE to love more, we HAVE to give more, we HAVE to make life beautiful and NOT be overcome by the Heart of Darkness. and that is just incredible. it is just so heartstoppingly fantastic that we are more often than not using ugliness to create beauty. oh my goodness it is so ... wonderful. i feel so overwhelmed by how beautiful this is, how wonderful it is.

the meaning of life is so often in the things we do not say.

beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

+ posted by M @ 9:57 PM

...	Wednesday, October 26, 2005

have come to the startling realization that WE ARE GROWING UP.

as i looked at kai's blog today and the pictures of her and her MED FAC friends - well, i just realized, i have a friend who's going to be a DOCTOR/SURGEON. i've gotten closer to being - 'an adult', as adults all have friends who are doctors or orthodontists or involved in a particular line of work - 'do you remember [insert old classmate's name]? what's he doing now?' my dad might say to a fellow old acs friend and then his friend replies, 'oh, running some restaurant' or something of that sort.

i wonder if one day it'll be like that with me. if kai will be for my child what auntie j [my mother's friend] is to us. a sort of part-time personal doctor to us, who doesn't charge but we 'pay' with a box of chocolates or fruit basket, just drops by the house to give us flu jabs and check on various physical peculiarities ['why isn't my toe moving?'].

it will no longer be friends from XJC - it will soon be friends from XUniversity and then it will be friends from X companies, X line of work, etc.

it's really sort of scary but thrilling, in a sense. and it feels very, very strange. i'm not ready to belong to X company yet and work at something, for someone, for Life. a part time ice cream job is all dandy because it's Part Time, and For Fun. but working to finance oneself and learning how to pay bills? it seems like something i have to learn soon just as older people have to learn how to use the computer/email etc. i would much rather live in a caravan and move from spot to spot like a hippie - it would be fun not to 'Exist', to slip through the cracks of the Law. but most probably, i will soon be fully integrated into the demanding and technical Ways Of The World [tax, housing, driving, grocery shopping for self etc etc] that one must follow in order to Exist in this world and Stay Free [that is, out of jail]. and that, that is really scary to me, for some reason i can't quite put my finger on.

+ posted by M @ 5:02 PM

...	Sunday, October 23, 2005

so last night, while watching DISCOVERY TRAVEL AND LIVING at 2 am in the morning, i discovered my almost immediate [being in about a month's time] calling in life!

not something grand to do with theatre, books or anything. but rather, to work in an ice cream store! have been thinking about the various things i want to do after the As and getting a job includes one of them. was thinking ice cream store, free labour at SRT or borders/second hand store at serene centre and was wondering how to fit all these aspirations - 3 months ice cream, 3 months theatre, 3 months books? notice what my life revolves around?

so i've decided i will do the ice cream [until further notice]! because ICE CREAM IS FOOD MAGIC! i never much used to be interested in making ice cream as much as i wanted to scoop and sprinkle things on it but watching the mixers last night work with the ice cream - how beautiful! it's like batter except that it's cold and yet they have to mix it without it melting so the store must be VERY VERY COLD! how interesting! i'm not looking for work at big chains like B+Js or Haagen Dazs [do you KNOW that it's a fictitious name? that it isn't some scandinavian brand - but really just an American company coming up with a weird name to make themselves sound interesting?] or Swensens [ick!] but i'd like a job at the 6th avenue Venezia or Island Creamery and of course the dream would be Estivo [but they seem to have a permanent staff]. will have to start hunting for obscure ice cream places who need help, maybe i'll try the Daily Scoop. i want to work for Homemade Ice Cream people, not Big Franchise people.

anyway it was really interesting because there's this ice cream place called Mitchells in San Francisco that boasts the most exotic flavours in America and well, YAM and LYCHEE included. and i just think, gosh to these people YAM is something they've never seen before and to us we buy it off the ice cream man for one dollar along orchard road! it's just amazing how different life is all over the world. and the owner was talking with such enthusiasm about a new flavour, 'soursop'! and people were trying it for the first time in their lives and trying to figure out what it was like ['kind of like sorbet ... it's a bit strange']. i want to try some exotic flavour i've never tried before and have it melt on to my tongue and be floored by it!

it's funny, how every time we encounter something new we always try to connect it to something in the past. we always try to make things familiar because we all carry 'baggage' [as whitby puts it]. i wonder if it's human instinct ... this constant need to always feel like something is right, something is comfortable, something is familiar.

but i find that the times when i don't try to make those connections, the times when i view something as itself and not try to make it part of a past something - those times are the most exhilarating.

+ posted by M @ 12:31 PM

...	Saturday, October 22, 2005

OMG I HAVE NOT DONE ANY WORK AT ALL TODAY AND IT'S 16 MINUTES INTO SATURDAY. how is it that i'm still in this ... mood where i can waste a whole day without urgency? OMG I'M FREAKING OUT. WILL DO MATH NOWWWWW.

+ posted by M @ 12:16 AM

...	Friday, October 21, 2005

poverty stole your golden shoes
it didn't steal your laughter
heartache came to visit me
i knew it wasn't ever after

my mom just asked me how to type a 'smiley face' for an sms because her friends have been doing it and she wants to do it too. i showed her how to do it, to which she said incredulously, 'so troublesome' and 'that's ALL? a curve and a colon? isn't it upside down?'

the sms smiley - it's just a curve and a colon. and it doesn't even turn the right way - it's lying down! a lie down smiley! :) let's wait for some tech genius to give a cheat code on how to add in symbols to turn it into - ... - well i am unable to type it out because i lack the futuristic cheat code.

i realized, while listening to some songs, that lyrics are very poetic in terms of structure. even airy pop songs have this metre thing going on. john mayer's stuff really sings like poetry. so technically, this pop stuff is more poetic than emo stuff. and then i think about poetry outdoing poetry. it's like herbert talking to cummings, 'you with the bad punctuation and lack of capitalization, get away! i am the REAL poet!'

but of course, that doesn't happen because poets possess a certain openness in them. i think, unless you're talking about Ezra Pound. or maybe some are just TOO open and thus are cruel/sick etc. marquis de sade? okay, not a poet, but you get my drift.

my brain is filled with randomness! i want to eat nuts and tangerines. also, today i watched benzie's The Caretaker dvd at my place with van, sam, yif and cher. yif and cher were really quite bored by it. it was funny how they were bored. well, i thought that it was ... okay. it obviously doesn't work quite so well as a movie [i haven't seen the play, but the way i imagine it - it would be more effective on stage]. i saw things very differently after watching it get acted out - so many things that are unspoken which need to be SEEN. i mean, that's why sometimes i feel it's quite hard to study plays only off the scripts. so many other things have to be taken into account! and somehow i feel that plays are so much more subjective than novels - because you see the actors interpret it and then you interpret it differently and well. it's like it goes through TWO rounds of interpretation - not to mention the director and the way the set is made and the lighting and so on and so forth! i think if poetry were read in all different sorts of tones, we'd see some of the poems we were studying differently. so, hmm, we'd have to study the tone of voice too! which would make it so complicated. but somehow i feel there's something we're missing by studying all this literature - we can get to it at a certain level by merely studying it off the books but we can never really connect with it unless we see it as it's meant to be [poetry to be read, plays to be acted]. oooh, lack of connection and ability to really get THERE - PINTER! and then pinter makes me think of CLOSER because of all the characters who just try to get close but never actually get THERE. where's 'THERE'? i don't know! i can't even describe what it's like to finally get IN, instead of just being CLOSE.

and then well, like today, the rest thought Aston was portrayed well but i disagreed and i thought it shouldn't have come off that way. and the whole thing about the brothers and Mick being a softy towards Aston - i thought that was interesting. but somehow the DVD sort of skewed my perception. but then i don't think i had much of an opinion on The Caretaker prior to this. i realize i'm just bopping about for most of the lit texts, i don't really have a STRONG opinion about them. or maybe i'm just in a mood and saying this impulsively, since i always seem to have an opinion about everything. hmmm. it's just very cool how you can't see some things reading the script, but only see it after it's acted out - i don't know what that's called, but it is cool.

but there are 239870953875093875 ways of interpreting things! and that's the beauty of it i guess. AMBIGUITY RULES OUR LIVES!

anyway i feel rather guilty for not going for Youth group the past few weeks, my catholic conscience is acting up again. i don't know if i'm really trying to pursue this youth group thing - i'm not sure where i'm going with it. maybe after the A's we'll see, i don't know. i know God doesn't want me to be wishy washy when it comes to this or else he'll just move on to someone else to do His work but i'm really not sure, right now. a lot of the times i think i want it, then i get selfish. help me to help You, God.

and yet there's this fear that i won't change because although God is all powerful and can easily overcome me just like THAT i know there's this thing called freewill which will prevent that and i don't know if i'm subconsciously making choices that are preventing me from changing - or maybe i know but continue anyway. human inertia, i need to overcome this. i'm tired of continually saying i want to change but don't change. it's very frightening, really, this thought of stagnation. i definitely don't want it, but am i doing enough to prevent it? am i letting God help me prevent it? i'm paranoid that i really am not, that i'll be stuck.

am also rather worried about Lit 3 Contexts, because had consultation with champagne recently and it seemed i couldn't say anything that was right. i've always been a stronger essay person than context. maybe i'm just not sensitive to language? that's a terrible thought. i find myself preferring to talk about themes and the bigger picture, rather than imagery, metaphor etc and the little pieces that make it up. but the scary thing is, i've been doing contexts for Lit 3 the whole time now, and to switch to essay now - should i try it out? if i want to do that i have to do it NOW and practice hard. my lit 3 grades have never really improved much whereas with lit 1 i noticed them improving gradually. it's scary, scary, scary. i'm not sure what to do. i think i will write a couple of essays.

what a pensive, weird and random entry.

+ posted by M @ 11:28 PM

...	Wednesday, October 19, 2005

i'm sufficiently annoyed.

my mom returned all the movies i rented [in the mood for love, big fish, edward scissorhands, a streetcar named desire, moonlight mile] and i hadn't even got to watch them except for edward scissorhands [okay, so i've watched big fish before, but STILL]. omg what a waste of money?! OMG i'm ANNOYED. i did not fry my brains in school and during math tuition today for nothing. they were my motivation.

and i left mandy's one tree hill 302 which she kindly burnt for me on the library shelf because i am stupid and ... stupid. i was looking forward to at least watching SOMETHING tonight [tv is not counted because it is stupid and slow and cannot satisfy me right now]. omg omg omggggg. i hope i can find it tomorrow and that nobody clears it out.

omgness. OMGNESS.

sigh. i feel like crying over unwatched movies/cds, of all things. i'm going insane, going insane. GOING INSANE!!! NOT in a good mood, at all.

+ posted by M @ 8:59 PM

...

sweet little things, which were a nightmare to make. one day, in a not so distant future [but distant enough] i will try this recipe again. and i will perfect it.  

+ posted by M @ 1:14 AM

...

the chocolate covered hi hat. so it didn't turn out as pointy and high as i would have liked [the real thing doesn't look like this] but i think i accounted for it with the sprinkles. doesn't it look beautiful? okay, i know the resolution sucks, i'm sorry. i need a new camera.  

+ posted by M @ 1:12 AM

...

it was fun watching them eat. it was a very messy affair.  

+ posted by M @ 1:10 AM

...

on a sugar high. how adorable. i really like this photo.  

+ posted by M @ 1:08 AM

...	Monday, October 17, 2005

last official day of school. some people were nostalgic, sad etc. but i didn't really feel anything, honestly. first of all, we were made to sit on the floor for our farewell assembly [so typical nj] and listen to our principal praise herself and the school admin/teachers for half of the 'farewell speech' [with regards to teachers, i do think they deserve the credit, but the admin? oh, don't lie] and then relate one of those stories you find in forwarded e-mails ['are you the carrot, egg or coffee bean?']. there's nothing wrong with telling a story - it's just better if it's a real incident and not some cliche you found in a motivational book. i hate that kind of stuff. hate it. it's so plastic. poetry holds far more meaning than a self-help book written by some random 'i've-got-a-phD-and-therefore-i-KNOW-how-you-should-live-your-life' person in hopes of earning a quick buck.

i admit that the presentation from the teachers were nice, but as they flashed slide by slide and once i realized i was never getting a drama slide [lit wing, college pub and debate got theirs. i was hoping benzie found a little shred of something in himself to give us a note. obviously not.] i couldn't really be bothered. plus they played cheesy orientation 04 music in hopes of making us all nostalgic - but it really didn't work on me. the cheers? the electric guitar school song? give me a break.

okay, maybe i'm sounding far too bitter and negative here but i really didn't feel much about graduating from njc, and that makes me kind of sad, in a way.

i just wish all the speeches wouldn't be so centred on Grades. i mean, yes, the A Levels are immediate, and yes it is great to do well. but if you don't it's not the end of the world. life goes on and people are successful in different ways. i wish that they would let the Students of Singapore know that, instead of narrowing their scope down so much to the A Levels that 'bad results/fear of bad results' has become quite a common cause for suicide cases. you are not a failure if you don't do well in the A Levels, and we should spend more time letting people know this TRUTH.

sometimes i think this whole system is such a great big farce i don't know how i haven't suffocated yet.

on a much brighter note, despite all that angst up there, today was really quite a nice day. people ate my nightmare cupcakes and i had a good time watching them get chocolate and marshmello cream all over their hands. one guy i didn't really know ate two at one go ['there's a lot of sugar in this? really?'], which was nice. then i studied in the library with dav and accomplished some math, started on some lit. after which i decided to walk home.

i haven't been walking home for a long time, been feeling a bit tired i suppose, but today i decided to. i really enjoyed it, as usual. the feeling of being deaf to the world because of the music in your ears. the feeling of not knowing anyone i walk past and them not knowing me. the feeling of walking underneath the highway and thinking 'cars are racing across the floor above me now' - the world is rushing on and for that moment under the highway i feel like time is suspended. watching the magpie and the sun streak the sky. serenity and tranquility is really something i appreciate. and so i guess i would like to school in the suburbs, even though for a long while i thought it would bore me.

today was also a good day because my grandparents came over for dinner. in fact, that was the icing on this cake of a day. my grandmother cooked [always a special occasion, because she rarely does it nowadays but is so good at it] and i just felt so overwhelmed by their love. i love it when my grandmother cooks for us because you know its her way of showing love because the older generation is not quite so used to saying right out loud, 'i love you'. there's so much tenderness in this almost shy way of showing care and concern - she asks, 'do you like it? is it tasty?'. everytime i meet them i feel so much love freely flowing out of them, and they don't have to say it. i just know it, i can just feel it, and it's wonderful. it's the most wonderful feeling in the world to be with them and feel this way. this must be what true love is like - a love that speaks so strongly for itself it doesn't have to be said at all. and everytime they leave, my grandfather will tell us 'thank you, i have enjoyed this time with my grandchildren a lot'. it confounds me, sometimes, how i can mean so much to someone that they would simply enjoy my presence. it's a very nice feeling.

so now i'm feeling very full and happy and motivated to continue studying my lit tonight[measure for measure is actually really interesting now].

every time i listen to the song 'love will come through' by Travis, i feel strangely hopeful. LOVE WILL COME THROUGH! indeed.

+ posted by M @ 9:16 PM

...	Sunday, October 16, 2005

spent a bit of the morning watching my nip tuck 301 which finally downloaded. i only watched like the first ten minutes, but, omg. the producers and writers totally got me - i thought Christian really died. and all the while i was thinking, 'am i going to even continue watching this show now?' and then we find out it was all a dream sequence.

oldest trick in the book, and i fell for it. i also was quite annoyed with the nip/tuck writers for using that dirty trick! my annoyance was quelled only because it meant Christian lived. this season is already showing up to be a really dark one, and i hope the carver gets caught, because really, i'm quite sick of him. while this plot-thread is intriguing - its stayed past its welcome and i hope it gets wrapped up with a big bang.

sorry, those were spoilers. if you've read this far and follow nip/tuck and haven't watched 301 yet, well. my apologies. but seeing as just about no one watches that show anyway, what the heck.

spent the better part of my day baking. and it was a gruesome, tiring recipe. worse than the trifle. not going to do it again any time soon.

'hello, i am the chocolate covered hi hat cupcake, and i'm your worst nightmare'

honestly. there was one point where i actually started raising my voice at the cupcakes, 'don't move! DON'T MOVE!' or something to that effect. my brother was pretty freaked out.

i stayed up till 3 am last night to study some, my most hardworking gesture so far. i must press on.

okay, i'm tired. this entry has been trash. a lot of stuff happened today. it was sad. i was sad. i wanted to blog about it but i decided not to. just because. i'm grouchy, need sleep.

+ posted by M @ 11:49 PM

...	Friday, October 14, 2005

i have a serious craving to bake. i want to make chocolate covered hi hat cupcakes. and i've decided i will have to satisfy this craving before it eats me up. so i will bake on sunday, hopefully and on monday you nj kids can expect a treat [hopefully, as things never always go to plan]!

kind of want to go for openhouse tomorrow to see how the drama kids are doing. it is hard to let go, i still very much want to know what's going on and attend meetings [i hope they ARE having meetings]. yes, it is very hard to let go.

i need to bake. i am coming up with all sorts of ideas for my Dream Restaurant. being an arts cafe, obviously the items on the menu will be [albeit cheesily] named after writers and books and such. for example, Romeo and Julienne Cucumber Salad [julienne being that term for cutting something in to thin slices]. ooookay. i'm going a bit loopy. was told by Chew this morning that Pinter has been awarded the Nobel Prize for Lit. being the sloth i am i still have not read the newspapers, but i am happy about it. about time, indeed. do you know he's the only British writer A Level students study that is still alive?

on another note, had Whitby's consultation yesterday and i will miss him terribly and the english dept in nj [yes some of champagne's lessons and some of dio's gp as well] when i leave. one of the best things about my two years in jc was taking A Level lit - because of that i am able to say it was not a waste of time being in njc. BUT no matter, on to more English lessons in university. it can only get better from here on, and it's already been pretty damn good so far. i guess the biggest reason i want to go to University - as geeky as it sounds - is because i want to study so many more lit texts - want to throw ten books at me? more? YES YES YES! i want to study nearly all of shakespeare's plays, i find it sad i have only studied 3 in my many years of doing lit. and graham greene's works! and dh lawrence! all this goodness.

i know it can be read on one's own but it doesnt quite compare with having a class to discuss with and a teacher to talk to and having to write papers on them. for me, writing helps me discover so many more things about the text, which in turn is ENRICHING! and i want to double major in lit and drama because i want to learn everything about drama which i've never learnt before and i just want to LEARN AND KNOW THINGS! i don't care if people say doing a double major will kill your social life - i can't bear not learning about theatre, i don't want to forego one for the other. in fact, if allowed, i'd like to do a triple major in Film, Lit and Theatre. i know it's insanity. i haven't proven myself to be the most hardworking of people but i think if i took those majors i truly, sincerely enjoyed i wouldn't mind working hard on them at all and my attitude towards work would vastly improve. after all, i do like studying lit and i don't mind its exams so much. i enjoy them, in a weird kind of way.

exciting, exciting, exciting. and this shall be my great motivation to study - so i can do Drama and Film and Lit in University and leave behind math which is decidedly uninteresting.

+ posted by M @ 4:27 PM

...	Thursday, October 13, 2005

and so the last day of school has come and gone. there's still a farewell assembly on monday, exams to take and prom, but whatever. at this point i barely feel any nostalgia - i think what i'm going to miss most is wearing sneakers every day. a lot of people know i have an unhealthy and absurd obsession with sneakers. and i only ever wear them to school. so what am i going to do now? red valentine dunks just look plain weird with other clothes.

i shall introduce you to my sneakers. the red adidas superstars marked the start of my love affair with sports shoes. as you can see, it is a very well worn pair, purchased when i was in sec 3. then came the DKNYs which i got on a holiday in Portugal. the chucks, aka 'emo shoes' i got when i was in sec 4 and going through the whole 'emo' thing.

during the first three months of jc, i would wear my white air force ones [not featured here] and then subsequently my superstars. anyway, i remember buying the 04 valentines day edition shoes with friends, i can't remember who. and i started wearing those to school, for a very long time before my trip to New York where i bought the Pink Ace '83s and the pearl-based Deltaforces with Red and Black detail. i laced both pairs of shoelaces through that shoe - that's why they look multi-coloured. finally, i bought the 05 Valentines Day edition at queensway. i saw it and knew that i had to buy it, despite the fact that my friends would call me mad for buying yet another pair of sneakers [i used to make bea walk around queensway with me just to look at the sneakers]. that was a few months ago, and i'm glad to say i haven't bought another pair of sneakers since.

the DM obviously didn't like my shoes, but i didn't care anyway.

I HAVE TRAVELLED TWO YEARS OF NJC WEARING EACH ONE PAIR AT LEAST ONCE FOR A CERTAIN PERIOD OF TIME! TO ME, THEY ARE MORE THAN SHOES, THEY ARE AN EXPRESSION OF MY BATTLE WITH THE GREY DISEASE! i should have remembered my time in njc in chunks like these - 'red valentine period', 'pink ace83 period' etc. will i continue to buy yet more shoes now that i have stopped having to wear a uniform? i can't promise that i won't.

on hindsight, this entry shows me to be a total nutcase, but really, i will miss my sneakers.

+ posted by M @ 10:48 PM

...	Tuesday, October 11, 2005

it strikes me how many secrets we keep from each other.

reading other peoples' blogs - they say so many double-layered things. why? often there are cryptic posts, messages directed to people who don't read the blog [and maybe never will], confessions embedded in song lyrics or poetry, purposely ambiguous musings.

why can't we just say what we want to the people we want to say them to? why are we so inept at communicating? why why why? instead we all spend our whole lives side-stepping and beating around the bush and as a result many opportunities are lost. unspoken words, regrets, broken hearts - these are killers worse than cancer. why are we all unable to be honest with each other? we're all scared of how the other person will react to what we say because we just want to be loved, accepted, secure. everyone is just lonely, all the time. it annoys me! why?! WHY? WHY?! it's a worldwide epidemic and we, the people of the world, need to do something about it! WE CAN DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. reach out to the people around you more, give more, love more. TAKE RISKS.

loneliness is a fate worse than death, but LOVE CONQUERS ALL!

+ posted by M @ 6:02 PM

...	Monday, October 10, 2005

life has been a mess this weekend and today.

everything has gone topsy turvy - i'm really flustered and agitated over so many things. just upset, just upset. today was a really bad day, and at this point, it is STILL a bad day. so many screw ups, and it sure as hell wasn't fun having your self-esteem torn to shreds in the admin office in front of everyone else. my parents are not cooperating either. bad things are happening to people i care about. even the good things seem to be mere coincidence and nothing that great on hindsight. God, help me have faith that whatever happens you have a plan for me. strengthen me, O Christ My Saviour, My Lord. Amen.

+ posted by M @ 9:28 PM

...	Sunday, October 09, 2005

Prosody 101

When they taught me that what mattered most
was not the strict iambic line goose-stepping
over the page but the variations
in that line and the tension produced
on the ear by the surprise of difference,
I understood yet didn't understand
exactly, until just now, years later
in spring, with the trees already lacy
and camellias blowsy with middle age,
I looked out and saw what a cold front had done
to the garden, sweeping in like common language,
unexpected in the sensuous
extravagance of a Maryland spring.
There was a dark edge around each flower
as if it had been outlined in ink
instead of frost, and the tension I felt
between the expected and actual
was like that time I came to you, ready
to say goodbye for good, for you had been
a cold front yourself lately, and as I walked in
you laughed and lifted me up in your arms
as if I too were lacy with spring
instead of middle aged like the camellias,
and I thought: so this is Poetry!

Linda Pastan

i need to start studying much harder, i woke up this morning realizing there was only a month left and it scared the hell out of me.

last night was very bizarre. spent the whole day clearing my inbox because i kept letting it go til i accumulated 1400+ msgs at a shot. i wish i was one of those people who could just press 'delete' for the whole folder, but the fact is i like to hang on to stuff inevitably has changed - an sms from a person a few months back reflects a totally different relationship from an sms from that very same person now. why do i seem to be the only one stuck in reverse? gah, technology. i didn't think i would allow myself to get into something like this after last year's fiasco. i hate feeling this way, maybe this is just a phase, maybe it's some weird A Level disorder which makes people unusually pensive and wistful. yes i think it's just a phase.

'no. only you.'

+ posted by M @ 12:27 PM

...	Friday, October 07, 2005

i want to kick myself for not realizing Nip Tuck has been back for three weeks. now i'm dying to know what happened and have to restrain myself from reading the episode recaps while the stuff downloads.

watched corpse bride today. i really liked it, reallly realllly liked it. it was deliciously spooky and gothic. bea and mandy didn't seem to enjoy it as much, bea thought it taught young kids the wrong values about death and she didn't find it very funny. but i found it so, so very funny and the visuals were very nicely done. it also gave me the warm fuzzies. i think i have quite a strange sense of humour - i found depp's wonka interpretation extremely funny when most people didn't like it. yay for tim burton. i want to watch big fish again, and edward scissorhands which i never got to. burton may be all disturbing and spooky at first glance, but i think he's just a big ol' softy at heart, he just expresses it in a very quirky way. the heart is still there.

and i realize that after all these years, Iris by the GooGooDolls is still a classic for the more pretentious teenage angst. not to say it isn't a good song, because it definitely is at certain points of your life.

+ posted by M @ 8:31 PM

...	Thursday, October 06, 2005

extract from a very very rough draft i just banged out in about 15 minutes - considering using some of these ideas for my university applications [ignore the writing style, because it doesn't matter half as much as the content when it comes to apps]. the question was something along the lines of writing about 'who you are', just to give you an idea. anyone who still reads this blog [which doesn't seem to be anyone, but i'm hopeful here], do let me know what you think. critique it till it falls apart! thank you.

Like all sheltered privileged kids, I have not experienced hardship. To me, the glamour of a struggling artist who lives from hand to mouth is an enticing and interesting life. I desire to feel holes in my pockets, to understand what it is to be miserable in a cold harsh winter when the heating has been cut off due to an inability to pay the bills. To many, this may seem foolish and ungrateful of my fortunate circumstances, but I suppose I have romanticised the life of an artist and thespian so much I feel I have to experience the reality of it at least once. Unfortunately, because of my family background I know I will never truly possess this financial insecurity and uncertainty I so desire - there will always be a way out. The enthralling sense of not knowing when my next meal will come by is denied to me. I wish to live on the periphery of life, but this seems to be uncertain.

At this instant, I glance at the statuette of Mother Mary that watches me from my writing desk. Being a Catholic and believer of God has defined me in more ways than I can imagine. I make this conscious choice to adhere to the life of one who believes in Christ every day. Many times I long to throw caution to the wind, behave on hedonistic impulses and not be plagued by the guilt of my sins I'm told I have committed. But 'Ava' (my baptism name) is more a part of me than anything else, even if it is not a name printed on my birth certificate. I struggle with my priorities often - my God or my Art? Is it wrong to indulge so heavily in literature, art and film which may at times portray the 'unChristianly ideals' of sexual liberation and amorality? I have a problem reconciling the two and it causes an immense guilt on my part. This is an issue that is inherently a part of me.

I am a living paradox. I abhor Mathematics but prize the genius of man. I claim to renounce all logic when I search fervently to make sense of everything I read and watch. Though I desire uncertainty, I find it hard to handle the little doses of it I'm presented with - which university will accept me? What door leads to the class I'm attending (God forbid I step into the wrong one and am late)? What word shall I write next? Probability; something that fascinates me to no end though I am unable to apply this theory to practical situations. Rather I read it as a theory that proves anything can be possible if we only just think of it. Using this idea, I have formulated many of my own ideas - an apple changes colour when exposed to air because it possesses its very own emotional system, the sky is blue because it is made up of evaporated tears which are in turn blue but we are unable to see this because we all suffer from a certain universal visual handicap and red meat causes cancer because the cows are angry with mankind for consuming them.

I could formulate many other theories and have no desire to learn the scientific truths to them. The truth is simply what we make of it, even if we make uncertain ones. We are bodies of truth; we make our own truths and these truths, in turn, make us who we are. I am this inexplicable truth I have made for myself and it cannot be written out in entirety because if people discovered and understood it, I would cease to be truth. I would become the dull cousin of truth, which is otherwise commonly known as 'fact'.

+ posted by M @ 10:29 PM

...

i watched 2046 this morning.

i really liked it [despite the fact that the DVD i rented was of poor quality! ugh]. i thought it was exquisitely shot - the tones and hues - very surreal, very poignant. the idea of memories, writing and stories. disappointed that maggie cheung was rarely featured though - are there different editions of this movie? although i got the sense that it already was pretty long. i think i might write about this for my Chicago application. definitely one of the better movies i've watched recently.

+ posted by M @ 5:39 PM

...	Tuesday, October 04, 2005

spent last night searching for a stray transcript and unearthed many other things. nostalgia - gotta love it, gotta hate it. sometimes i hate how sad it makes me feel.

i've been trying to study hard. feeling tired. don't expect substantial entries any time soon. i need more good music. something circus-esque and dramatic but in a language i don't understand because lyrics distract me [have been listening to the Quidam music a lot, but am getting rather bored with it]. i think maybe i should get a french music CD.

there are often a few people i think about. the irony is, the person i think of the most is the one i talk to the least - and perhaps none at all most of the time when i actually do see him. it's a very queer feeling, indeed. but i'm not sad about it. it's nice.

what am i saying.

+ posted by M @ 10:39 PM

...	Saturday, October 01, 2005

after watching a couple episodes of Undeclared, and being charmed by Lloyd's british accent, i've decided that schooling in the UK will not be so bad as i think it to be. though Chicago is obviously dream school, it wouldn't pain me that much to be sent to Reading [which is not in London, but i really like the course i've signed on for. that is, English, Theatre and Film. 3 in 1. beyond cool] or Warwick [Whitby's school!] or something [though not Birmingham, i quite wish i didn't apply there though Tolkien was there but i'm not all that big a fan of Tolkien's, so]. the land of Marks and Sparks, Colin Firth, Love Actually and The Bard can't be all that bad. despite what the counselor says about the major boozing - but hey, that happens everywhere else in the world.

have to remain positive, not getting to study in the US is not the end of the world. Chicago EA here i come. i am determined. i will not give up on that dream - even if it doesn't happen, at least i'll know i tried. the pain of regret is worse than the pain of hard work. like what colin said which i found quite amusing, 'yeh i'm stressed but i have to stay strong or else nothing will work'.

+ posted by M @ 4:52 PM