the only thing we're getting is older.
Jun. 30th, 2007 | 12:13 am
mood: 
sleepy
music: cocco - kemono michi
on a sidenote, the pledge by dir en grey is tugging at my heart again. haven't heard it in too long and this is what happens.
you know I had rehearsal today, and I looked at keith and czander and couldn't help but laugh. the two boys are only sec 3, and somehow I'm feeling the 5 years. the extra 5 years through life, albeit considerably sheltered, but 5 more years of studying, of friends, of changes, of adjustments, of pain, of suffering, of stress, of blessings, of grace, of love, of peace. 5 more years. and look what it's done. perhaps it is not the fact of 5 years. it is the sort of 5 years. I think if it were the 5 years between 5 and 10, it wouldn't make all that much difference. it would at that point in time, but not much after you've grown older. but the stark difference between 13 and 18 is glaring. 15 and 20, ouch.
so sometimes I imagine, my sister and I, 5 years apart. now it's 20 and 25, not much difference, apparently. but I felt it, when I was 7 and she was 12, when I was 12 and she was 17; when I was 15 and she was 20. but the most poignant was the point when I was 16, and she was 21. that was first year at the university for her, and it was freaking o levels for me. I thought I was leading a miserable life in sec 4, and my sister was learning cool stuff at uni, and that was the height of my diru obsession -- I wanted to go to uni NOW and learn japanese.
but I had to spend 2 more miserable years in jc before going anywhere. somehow junior college was a very vague and blurry time period in my life. a strange vacuum in my life that I remember little of, and the little I remember is beginning to fade too. I have to read my blog to throw myself back into that time. perhaps because I lost myself somewhere along the way, and began picking myself up only much later.
and now I'm finally in uni. daddy said he's seen me from 'little school' to 'big school'. 小学到大学。I laughed. I laughed.
why am I reflecting, right? I don't really know either. I just suddenly thought about it. I should be getting to bed, because there's rehearsal again tomorrow, early in the morning. my sister's well on her way to korea by now, for the campus crusade conference. along with everybody else I sent off just now.
my endorphines have forsaken me again. however the old association between danny and the penguins really cracked me up. vicks sends the darnest smses. seriously. but you know, perhaps while I didn't see him at the penguin exhibit, he might be hiding elsewhere. I didn't check the toilets. hahahaha that is another bad, bad joke.
harryboy asked me why I found dannyboy entertainment. I realised there's so much to laugh about that I didn't know how to put it succintly to him. so all I told him was that there was a number of things laughable, mostly his wardrobe. which suddenly reminds me of the time he asked me something about my impression of danny or something like that, and I said there were several impressions, and he was like wah you know him since when man.
what an amazing sidetrack. I should be getting to bed. hair's a little wet still, but heck. some civilisation's good for me, apparently. talking to crystal now.
I really ought to go to bed. goodnight.
squawk.
Jun. 28th, 2007 | 11:04 pm
mood: sleepy
music: dir en grey - raison detre
just know that I travelled a long way to the west, making it my 4th journey to the west, aka boon lay. early in the morning too. well okay I arrived half an hour late, at about 1015h. I went to the bird park with denise. you got that right, the birdpark. to see parrots, cuckatoos, toucans, kingfishers, flamingoes aaaaaaaand
the penguins, obviously.
absolutely cute. I still pity the poor penguin which had to pose for pictures with an immense number of people around. so stressed was the penguin, that the trainer had to keep blocking its vision in order to calm it down. and the funniest part was when it actually peed on these 2 little boys who were not particularlay cooperative about taking a picture with the penguin. but I think the penguin was horribly stressed. the irony was, the ten bucks you paid to take the picture with the stressed out penguin was going to penguin conservation. fantastic, right?
but beyond the narcissist penguin that constantly looked into the reflective walls, the group of emperor penguins stoning in the middle, the penguin pee, the mental hospital sounding parrots which couldn't stop talking to themselves, the tied up hawks, the owls who were led to believe that 0930-1800h is night time since the exhibit was nearly pitch-black, the lorikeets which were bloody noisy, and the stupid 12 noon thunderstorm which was actually just thunder sounds coming from the speakers hanging above, the rest of the birdpark isn't all that artificial.
but I suppose after going through the birdpark you wonder if you're doing the birds a good deed by paying the entrance fee that goes to conserving them, or that by your support the birdpark continues to keep them in captivity.
and after a while, I'm tired of thinking about it. my feet ache, and I need to sleep. there's rehearsal tomorrow, and off my sister goes again, bringing a whole bunch along with her. and ky has introduced a new interesting sounding drama to me which has two lovely leads. darlings matsuda shota and toda erika.
absolutely lovely.
and buddy tells me the anathestic she was thinking about was epidural (which is used during childbirth and may give rise to a hell lot of complications and so a lot of mothers opt out if they can bear it), which makes me wonder how it sounds anything like daturas...but in any case I still don't know if daturas can survive here, and NO I don't think you would like to eat morning glory seeds. gross.
yawn. goodnight my dears. good old dir en grey playing in the background. smiles.
kermit and cookie monster.
Jun. 27th, 2007 | 12:11 am
mood: 
bored
music: l'arc~en~ciel - ibara no namida
one kermit, another cookie monster. after watching that m18 youtube clip, nuh uh. the image conjured up is terrible.
I should sleep, really. try to sleep earlier. as usual, I tell myself that. but it honestly is awfully hot now. there's this strange heatwave, or rather, humidity wave that's struck my room, and no amount of fan blowing can seem to drive it out.
I haven't anything to say actually. I'm just bored. why don't I just go to bed, you think.
somehow I just don't do that.
reila, reila.
12012 really rocks. they look so-so, but they sound fairly good enough. but both their vocals and girugamesh's have that scratchy quality. not clean and nice like gazette.
I really haven't anything to say. sleep then, I suppose.
26th june.
sister arrived home today. but she flies again on friday. but better than nothing. although I have grown rather used to her not being around. oops. haha
one kermit, another cookie monster. after watching that m18 youtube clip, nuh uh. the image conjured up is terrible.
I should sleep, really. try to sleep earlier. as usual, I tell myself that. but it honestly is awfully hot now. there's this strange heatwave, or rather, humidity wave that's struck my room, and no amount of fan blowing can seem to drive it out.
I haven't anything to say actually. I'm just bored. why don't I just go to bed, you think.
somehow I just don't do that.
reila, reila.
12012 really rocks. they look so-so, but they sound fairly good enough. but both their vocals and girugamesh's have that scratchy quality. not clean and nice like gazette.
I really haven't anything to say. sleep then, I suppose.
dyed by beloved filth :: 0011
25th june.
pathos, is a word I learnt from reading too many dir en grey translations back when I was in upper sec. it comes from one of my evergreen tracks of diru, cage. it did not instill as much pathos as it should have back then, but I think as the songs pile up, more and more pathos struck. but now diru lyrics have reached a point where they no longer make stories, and some don't even make sense. it is a difficult world to dwelve into, the world of the vocalist lyricist. but I can hear kyo's frustration as the lyrics run on, especially the irritation with the longdrawn ear condition he has.
however, I did not bring up this word to talk about dir en grey. I brought it up to talk about coin locker babies. because that book made me cry. and it made me cry a lot. and it's been a long time since my dam burst like that. there's this thing about japanese writers you know. somehow you can sense that madness and tragedy coming, but you don't really want it to come, and when it finally does arrive, it crashes upon you and leaves you staggering in a stony silence for the next 5 minutes, trying to understand what the heck just happened in the book and what the heck the author's trying to tell you.
Keanbon's MRT photographs remind me of something which I often thought about when I used to take the train everyday to NUS: loneliness. I also often wondered about the lives of the people around me, which adds to the loneliness effect. And I have tried to elaborate on the difference between loneliness and feeling lonely. How does one analyze or talk about loneliness in the city in the sociological, anthropological sence? Marxian alienation, Weberian transcendental loneliness, Durkheimian egoism-anomie, Goffmanian civil inattention, Foucauldian technology of the self, Bourdieu-ian habitus?
A passage from Walter Benjamin 's reflection on prostitution in the city speaks to me: "But the places are countless in the great cities where one stands on the edge of the void, and the whores in the doorways of tenement blocks and on the less sonorous asphalt of railway platforms are like the household goddesses of this cult of nothingness" (One Way Street, 301). There seems to be this close link between anonymous commercialized sex and loneliness that are both symptoms of the existential condition of being "on the edge of the void". What is this "cult of nothingness" that afflicts the city? Or is this just a middle-class projection of its narcissistic existentialism? Or an psychic-emotional artifact of the voyeuristic desires of what Foucauldians would call our scopic technology of self?
coin locker babies talks enough about loneliness. loneliness is more than the idea of being alone -- it is more than solitude. it is a state of mind where you find that nobody wants you. hashi and kiku were left inside coin lockers at the yokohama train station 17 years ago because their mothers didn't want them. they went to the orphanage and nobody wanted them either. they were finally adopted but while the foster parents didn't ill treat them, they didn't know how to meet these two already half-angsty boys' needs either.
the two grew up feeling unwanted, unloved, unknown by the world, unknown to the world. hashi thought he'd found love and attention through his popstar career, but it was only superficial, and all his boss wanted was money, all his bandmates wanted was some fame for themselves, and all his wife wanted was sex. kiku thought he'd found purpose through datura, but it ended up making him kill others, and finally destroying the brother he loved so much. they ran into lonely person after lonely person, attempting to suck one another dry to fill their emptiness, only to find that the other person is as empty as themselves.
coin locker babies. murakami ryu is a man as mad as osamu dazai.
and now I don't know whether to start on another endo shusaku book, or to read another madman's book. or perhaps I should calm down and read norweigian wood.
or maybe I should stop reading for a while now. the books aren't due tomorrow, you know. but with my sister coming home tomorrow and staying home for the next few days before flying off again, I suppose I should keep off the books till then, at least. and off chizuru. both mediums are bringing my hormone level to an all time low. endorphines, where did you run off to?
あなたの何処へ
I should start listening to anna tsuchiya again. her songs make me feel a little crazy and happier. terrible you know, to have your emotions swayed and swung about by different songs, in a language I don't understand. but right now I'm taking an entire discography of 12012. heard so much about the band, and jrocknyc has an okay review of cyclone. since girugamesh, abingdon boys school didn't turn out too badly, 12012 should be alright.
in fact if you want to talk about my experiments, since gazette turned out to be such a hit with myself, and I'd heard good reviews off the net only, and knew nobody who listened to gazette, 12012 should be just fine. in fact I've taken so much kitade nana but I haven't listened to one bit of it yet. I should. I'm trying to give the female rockers a chance, but some have absolutely disappointed me. of course, anna tsuchiya is fantastic, and olivia lufkin is much more bearable than most. but a lot of the female rockin' has completely lost me. oh oh and exist trace rocks! for reasons beyond their looks and music.
enough, enough. go listen to kitade nana, some more girugamesh, stay off chizuru. I hope stacked rubbish doesn't hit me with another despondent track like this.
edit: kitade nana is POP. now, which idiot decided it was rock? hur hur hur??! and she sounds vaguely like yuki from judy and mary. which doesn't bode very well for kitade, because yuki has a more powerful voice than this. anyway it cannot be tolerated and out of the computer it has gone. I hope 12012 doesn't turn out to be a screamy mess. I hope.
dyed by beloved filth :: 0030
23rd june.
it's been a number of days. and suddenly I don't remember what I meant to rant about. suddenly nothing really seems important to rant about, yet why should anybody put something important on a public blog, and why would anybody rant about important things? ranting is saved for days where emotions take over and make you pissed and annoyed or go crazy and then an entire paragraph comes out without you even realising it.
which is exactly what has happened. hmmm. looks like I overthrow my own theory.
perhaps I've been reading too much. my brain has too many new ideas and things to think about life that it is heavy and therefore rendered a little unable to rattle on and on like a mad woman who has nothing better to do in life than to type and type furiously at her keyboard. but speaking of reading, thanks jiaxin for norweigian wood, the incredibly elusive text of murakami haruki that hasn't appeared in the library. refuses to. although my initial interest was in sputnik sweetheart, for a dumbass reason, but I've heard and saw some stuff about norweigian wood and was bent on getting my hands on a copy.
speaking of which, I have finally read oryx and crake. so drama, that book. however it was an incredibly well written book. I finished it in 3 sittings. good sign for a book that fat. of course partly because I'm home all day with nothing much else to do, but also that the style of the book keeps you going. yes it's the usual present past flash flash style that atwood employed in the handmaid's tale, but it keeps people going, waiting for that point where past meets present. after completing the book, I shut it and read the 'reviews' given by some random people at the back of the book. there was stuff about the text being about hubris, about crake playing God. and indeed, crake tried playing God, creating his own set of people, educating them the way HE wanted to educate them, controlling disease, controlling sex, and controlling mortality.
it backfired, obviously. and it reminded me of what twinkle said before. (oh I haven't used 'twinkle' in ages.)
"of course secularisation continues to grow. everybody wants to be god."
which is the heart of human nature, and the heart of sinful man. but fallible man cannot even dream of being God. it is an impossibility, and it cannot remain a dream even. for a dream is what sparks action, and whatever action we take is futile, and in crake's case, absolutely damaging. in fact all the utopian stories we've read have turned awry for only one reason.
power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. great men are almost always bad men.
silly, silly crake. and poor poor jimmy.
in less grave sounding news, I read in the papers today that caroline lufkin is due to perform tomorrow at the recital studio. dreamy pop, eh? but I have never heard caroline before, nor her works. I have a sudden urge to attend that concert out of my boredom, but it doesn't seem rational and logical to do so. I have often done too many mad things, and I should put stop to it.
but it doesn't work that way, I suppose.
irrationality, out. I will not listen to caroline, because I will fall asleep. listening to some samples on her myspace and besides sounding like a slightly lower pitched and airy version of her elder sister, the music's not my type. yes it is so dreamy. electronica. keyboard filled, effects filled, new age sounding stuff. nuh uh. if olivia lufkin should ever sing here however, I will go see the girl.
and with that, I need to get some water. parched throats aren't good for me.
my sister returns from the land of smiles in approximately 4 days time. I'm rather excited. because then I can get out of my talking vacuum and home boredom for a while. just a while, since sister will fly again on the 29th, I think. yes I had real verbal diarrhoea yesterday (spending like 5 hours with gwen and 2.5 hours with vicks) but it's different when it's on hand at home. =) I make my sis sound like demand tv.
I shall, then, proceed to the next book. coin locker babies. miyavi rocks. his new single is another puzzle for another day.
dyed by beloved filth :: 1734
19th june.
I took the brave step of offering communication that speaks more specifically than pokes.
and I learnt that I've lost shampoo. so as1 02-20 will never have the same names again.
how sad. and after next sem the last one will go.
people come people go. I like permanence. but age has taught me that it doesn't happen.
but my heart wishes for it.
very difficult, very difficult. the way I live.
self discovery is a long, painful and difficult path to tread on. and it can turn rather scary.
when you discover that you are more than you ever thought you could be.
and you shudder.
"and all these mixed emotions we keep locked away like stolen pearls.
stolen pearls devotions we keep locked away from all the world."
dyed by beloved filth :: 0142
18th june.
just a random post here now.
decided to click on that facebook community, 'singapore society sucks, I therefore study it'. the last few posts were about a singapore playwright who quit med school in his final year to write fulltime, and upon applying for a relief teaching job at moe, he was rejected and he was puzzled because he had no bad records, no bad reports, and good academic results. so what could have happened?
dan goh says he's keeping out of it until moe replies.
the playwright wrote a letter to moe asking why he was rejected and what their criteria is blah blah that sort of thing. and moe replied. everything's on the blog entry: http://www.blurty.com/talkread.bml?jour
I had a good laugh, then calmed down and began this entry.
I'm sorry, but coming from someone who used to work at that darn building down buona vista and dabbled with some applications to be a permanent teacher, it's really funny. the community wonders if the department is being bias, wonders if the poor boy did something really wrong to offend them.
I would say he must have done something that made the government not like him so much they blacklisted him. for if poor records do not exist on the computer, there's only one field that can overwrite that: the blacklist option.
or he could have run into some temp staff who clicked that option by accident.
or he could have offended someone in the department and that someone clicked it.
or some bad record actually does exist inside his confidential dossier that we know nothing of. you'll never know.
whatever the case, nobody's going to tell you the reason. moe's letter of reply is the standard: they actually have bloody templates, ok? they will never tell you exactly why they've rejected you. you can call them up and they can't tell you anything. in fact, they usually leave the contact details of the lower ranked executives who go by looking at the system, and when the system says no, it says no.
and the funniest part? they can't tell you criteria either. it's a SECRET.
(yes indeed these poor executives are bound by the national security act and leakage of criteria will land them in a bad bad plight.)
which doesn't reflect too well on the government that prides itself on being transparent and meritocratic.
so, anybody expecting an answer above ' we have seriously considered your application' and 'we have ensured that we have looked at all points of your application' and 'we however regret to inform you'
will be sorely disappointed. =)
dyed by beloved filth :: 1436
17th june.
I am terribly hooked on chizuru. terribly hooked. it's repeating, repeating, repeating.
what an emo song, really. gazette, you have done well. previously their songs have never hit such an emotional quotient on me. they usually strike a rockish manic chord in me, a headbanging constant beat that makes me addicted. however the tragedy of chizuru as felt in the music alone makes my heart melt and want to listen to it again and again and I won't get sick of it somehow, until a new tragedy surfaces.
I have gone a little cuckoo and decided to break another exception I have. I'm on facebook now. fantastic, right? jiaxin said there's something in facebook that appeals above the other friending networks. I say it's the reality of it. somehow you know that the face behind the name is somebody you know, and you've got to approve of everyone on the list, and verify how you got to know one another. so there's this space to reject, forget, and all that sort of thing. it's something like lj, after a while. what with the interests and the communities and the friending. walls are like commenting, and you can invite and reject friends. in the meantime, you can continue surfing your friend's friends' pages, and add more people along the way. a little bit of vox and myspace is injected by way of allowing much media to be displayed on the profile page.
so it's an adaptation and improvement as well as merger of several existing applications. genius.
newsflash: harry's back in the online realm.
just after I whined about a silent eighteen days, with my peachy princess upset by the prospect of perhaps having lost him somewhere where she is unable to pickle him personally, he revives and suddenly signed in, the good old kermit the frog appearing on the top of the almighty messenger window. and I found out where he'd gone.
he's gone where roger had gone -- reservist.
AHAHA. for some reason, I couldn't stop laughing when he first said it. I really couldn't. I don't know if I laughed because indeed the sight of him in green uniform marching around is a joke in itself, or that perhaps I was happy that he's back online, or that I could have been relieved that he wasn't getting pickled. bkk and surrounding area is a mess after all.
I should sleep. it's late. again. sleep earlier, child.
oh oh chizuru. the story of a thousand cranes.
dyed by beloved filth :: 0042
16th june.
feeling oddly sleepy.
and I can't understand for the life of me what is wrong with the ftp. I'm so tired of working at it, to the point where I wish that tomorrow I'll turn on the computer and somehow somewhere something will click and tada it shall work. otherwise, I'm going berserk soon. I've configured everything I have. I've downloaded 2 other ftp programs. I've tried the server and its variations. I've tried connecting via ip address. I've ensured that my firewalls (yes plural) are not blocking it. I've made sure the anti-virus programs allow the ftp programs to act as a server. I've logged into my router and forwarded the usual port. in fact, I've forwarded both port 20 and 21 and allowed both tcp and udp connections. I've even done a tracert and found nothing bloody wrong with the packets switching.
what else on earth could be wrong with it?!
non-comprehende.
and I'm tired of trying to. I've been at it for hours now, and I'm completely stumped. I've stumped the girl who's providing the site, because it works perfectly fine on her side. thus it has to be my ftp problem. considering the problems it encountered entering atspace.com recently, I suppose something already cranked up some time ago, but I didn't bother about it because atspace does block my ftp access from time to time.
but now it seems my port or something like that is broken somewhere and I don't know where because I'm not trained to find these things. I'm just randomly going through forums and trying everything they say there but nothing really seems to work. I've tried everything plausible that I know. except those that ask me to change values and such. I don't fancy changing values. already when I fiddled with the ip address and dns server I nearly died because I couldn't get my connection back on. I tweaked my firefox before but that didn't work, somehow. I dare not touch my utorrent. heh. there are some numbers I could do wonders with according to people on the net, but until I really understand what the crap a GUI is, no I'm not touching anything since everything's working just fine. period.
sorry for that. high strung now. so irritated.
in better news, the gazette's live dvd is OUT. yes decomposition beauty, meaningless art that people showed @ yokohama arena 2007 final LIVE dvd is OUT, with first press already stinking sold out and arriving in mailboxes looking like porn. hey it's not my fault that gazette decided to get a nude lady to pose as the cover for the dvd. half the lj communities are screaming because now they have to find somewhere to freaking hide the dvd from their parents lest they think it's porn and throw it away. or something like that. now why did gazette do something controversial like that and send their fans scurrying, I have no idea. all I know is that somebody wonderful from the lj comms has decided to rip her version when it does arrive in her house in complete ISO version and put it up on jpopsuki.
voila, another 7gb file coming my computer's way. burning dvds is long overdue. I really really must get them all burnt. however, I still have not solved the psc tour dvd problem. besides having not recovered the other disc. that one is small problem. now the problem is getting the concert itself out of my computer since dvdshrink refuses to shrink it beyond 54% and it remains too big for a dvd still. and that pisses me off because honestly if you give me a choice I don't want to cut the disc into a couple of parts. and it's not that far over 4.35gb after 54% shrinking. I don't see why I can't shrink it smaller than that. if dvdshrink has a quality control thingy, I wish to rid the program of it.
I've found a little loophole. okay not loophole, but I think I may have found a way around the compression limit. hiak hiak thanks to some forums lurking out there. looks like I'm not the only one trying to compress beyond its limits.
I'm really sorry this has been so technical. it has, hasn't it? there's no report on my life, no reflection of life, no review of books or media of any sort. just pure computer language running through. but I am no expert, unfortunately. I am horribly bored, to be honest. it's not good of me to sit here waiting for a job to drop down on me, but honestly if I'm to bum these months away I just might. or perhaps I should drag myself to marks and spencer after all. oh dearie me.
gosh I'm so bored I've actually helped with translating some stuff for masakarasu. okay not exactly. the translator had problem with the last line of the song which was written completely in kanji, aka chinese characters, and she's dubious of the translation she finally settled on after consulting numerous translating programs off the net. I was rather dubious too. it was obvious the back part wasn't quite right, but I wasn't sure about the front. so I checked it up and found that it used a word that doesn't belong in the chinese dictionary. hurrmph it's not the first time but never mind. but I believe I've found the equivalent. it makes perfect sense to the song anyway. hee.
actually I should go sleep. I'm oddly sleepy after all, (uh yes I'm still oddly sleepy) and church starts fairly early tomorrow morning. then there's i-concert rehearsal so it's going to be a rather long day.
it's been eighteen days.
เเฮร์รี่ ( ci) anyway... good luck for the rest of your nus time เเฮร์รี่ ( ci) and don't be too cynical [whoever invented the suit is a genius.] the rest of my nus time mah [whoever invented the suit is a genius.] and what are u going to do man [whoever invented the suit is a genius.] sticking around on this little island? เเฮร์รี่ ( ci) no [whoever invented the suit is a genius.] oh so u're going away? where? เเฮร์รี่ ( ci) runaway horses เเฮร์รี่ ( ci) i will go where the horse runs
okay the last part was stupid. I won't care to explain it. just ignore. but basically he didn't answer me.
oh midnight. goodnight.
dyed by beloved filth :: 2359
15th june.
jumped a day. was staring at the tiffany's online catalogue last night. for a long long time. and realised that their coveted piece, the one most imitated and most worn, is worth like 300 bucks. and doesn't look it.
it's tiffany's, after all.
more than halfway through player piano, and the ghost shirts society appears. now I remember. indeed, player piano, kroner, baer and the darned ghost shirts society. the joke it was. I feel so sad for paul, as of present, because anita spurned him when he tried so earnestly to keep her by his side and to understand the sort of world they have degraded themselves to. but she wouldn't see it, she wouldn't. she refused. she rid herself of him. I felt sad for paul. and now I want to tell him, it's good riddance not for anita, but for you, paul. good riddance for paul. because anita isn't worth saving if that's all she cares for.
it's just a book.
but that's the power of literature. it has the power to reach deep down into your inner being and make you think, make you imagine, make you visualise, make you feel. a movie run by yourself. I'm a visual learner, so the books play movies in my head as I read them. to listen to how I respond, what I would do, to think why I think so. terribly fun. there's tremendous amount of thinking to be done in life. books help. besides helping my english, that is. my english is fast flushing down the drain somewhere deep below the sewage pipes and so I've decided to do something about that by borrowing an immense amount of library books. okay it's not immense, considering that the library has doubled the loan limit but I'm still keeping to that loan limit. I cannot borrow 8 thinking books at one shot. firstly, the weight of the books shall be the death of me, and after I die I cannot read. besides that. 8 books of thinking will kill me to read within 3 weeks. I have ten more days to read 1 and 1/3 books now. I suppose that sounds like quite a lot of time. but that also means it took me 11 days to read 2 and 2/3 books, making that about 4 days a book. that means I'll take 32 days to finish 8 books, and 32 days is way over the 21 day limit.
why on earth am I doing math here.
but reading all this stuff is pulling me back, sucking me back into my j2 days. it's slowly but surely dragging me back to the way I wrote my entries back then, forcing me to run through the thought processes I took so long to discover and develop in j2. pushing me to think, churning my thinking engines faster.
and suddenly I discovered a document in my folders. a typed letter to my buddy. last modified, 6th december 2006.
but while I have turned into a frightening store of information (I either know things I shouldn’t, or I remember details that YOU yourself told me but obviously YOU don’t remember sort of thing), I suppose it has been rather enriching. it makes life a different experience altogether. besides just hoping for nice people to come along to be in your class, besides getting homework and projects done, besides just hanging around with good ole buddies that you’ve always known, besides bitching about those horrid girls, that un-gentlemanly guy, that lousy teacher, that stupid lecturer, how far NUS is, how terrible the school is, how disgusting the module is, besides checking out all the food, bumbling about school wondering how to borrow books and dvds, besides getting lost and complaining about the amazing number of staircases and lack of lifts, besides repeating your module combination for the semester to every single darn person you meet and wailing about the mid-term test or that sucky mid term paper you just handed in or just got back, besides looking at how horribly that girl is dressed, or how gay that guy looks, besides all this. actually the right word isn’t ‘besides’, it’s more like ‘beyond’ all this, there’s a lot more to think about when you look around you. and it is more fun to live like this, rather than bothering about which crap lesson you have, which mad deadline you need to meet, which bitch is going to come along. to hell with all that. oh I agree it’s not easy to throw it all away, because it’s such an integral part of our lives, all this complaining and bitching. but I think it’s always good to settle yourself, think about what on earth you’re doing, what on earth you are trying to do, what do you want to do, who are these people around you, what do these people mean to you, why do they mean what they mean to you.
oooh. I like that one. it isn't so much of 'besides all this', but really, 'beyond all this'. in fact I'll add on one more. I believe nothing on earth happens by chance. so add one set: so why do you think these people are around? what do you think is their purpose? how would life be different without these people? what have they done to you? for you? what's the significance?
I love asking such questions. I hate answering them.
I think my literature technique, as taught to us 2 years ago by my lit HOD, can apply to nearly everything we analyse. from ourselves to others, it fits all. it’s supposed to apply to literature passages – what is this all about? what are the author’s intentions? how are the intentions shown? it’s the same – what’s all this about/who is this all about? what is the intention of this action/this person? how is it shown? which entails a whole string of characteristics, language use, tone, inferencing. indeed it requires much observation or questioning to understand context, background, which will then affect what sort of lens you look at people, to understand where they come from, why they say what they say, what sort of associations do they make with certain items/ideas, which will then in turn help to understand what the shit they are trying to do in the first place. then you won’t feel so pushed about by the tides. then you won’t feel like you don’t really know what you’re doing, where you’re going, what’s going on sort of thing. I won’t say that by this analysis you become a person in control. but at least I suppose you could see the bigger picture, and be less lost.
woah. now I have technique. I don't really recall writing this letter actually. it was typed over a few days, in fact. but these paragraphs must have been typed in a flurry. it sounds like my streams of consciousness at work. the whole army of words pouring forth and manifesting themselves in typed language which forces my fingers to fly faster than my brain can do simple math. and it goes on!
but there are always downsides to things. after you’ve decided you know what’s going on, you set new resolutions to cut certain ties, put your damn foot down on certain things, refuse to talk about certain topics, and things like that, you find that it’s really hard to behave like that. after all your years of building up impressions and ideas about yourself, you can’t just tear everything away. and sometimes after looking at all these people around you and finally tearing them down somewhat, you may find that you’re not exactly in a world of humans. some of these people are actually scarier than you think, and they suffer from a lot more oddities in life than you realised. and of course the scariest moment comes when you find that you share some things in common with these weird people, who defy rational thought and good logic and seem to lack good sense and are simply selfish. and the scariest of the scariest is when you find that you don’t just share stuff in common, you believe in the same thing, so you become also one who defies rational thought, good logic and good sense, turning rapidly into an mishmash of selfishness and dysfunctionality, and sometimes it’s even against your own will. you don’t rightly know how you turned out like this. so when that happens, it’s time to sit down and think again. think about what happened to you, how it happened. after you’ve dug out all your own context, your own history, your own warped ideas, who’s been teaching you how to behave, who’s been influencing you, then you embark on the next step which is what you’re going to do about all that stuff you just thought about.
wah as if I practised all I preached. how horribly difficult, the things I set for myself.
nani-kore.net has been mailed, account has been set. but seems like my ftp is not cooperating. either that, or the dork of myself has put the wrong info into the wrong boxes. which I hope is the problem. if my ftp's the problem I'll be rather upset. but it really shouldn't be the ftp program problem itself because it manages to open. if the anti virus programs disallowed it, they would have stated so long ago.
oh dear. it seems it's my ftp problem. the info typed is correctly placed. I shall download another ftp program then. sad.
great it doesn't seem to be an ftp problem now. I've even tried changing the port. now I'm quite upset. I think I'm distressing the poor girl on the other side also. probably never had such problems. she said she managed to access it via her own ftp. hurrmph this is getting on my nerves and I haven't a clue what's wrong with the file transfer protocol.
besides ftp and nani-kore.net. just got the chizuru PV. it's unfortunately the 'apartment version', which means I have to endure some bits of korean horror movie inside. and I don't like horror movies, much less the apartment type of horror movies which banks on some shock factor, flickering lights, people in white, a lot of blood, a lot of hair and bad makeup. but to hell with all that. you know why? because it's
gazette in SUITS. yes I am so not over that. they look sooooo goooooooood.
okay that's it I'm mirroring on lj. this is irritating me. and I feel sorry for the poor girl manning nani-kore.net. sorry!
dyed by beloved filth :: 2351
13th june.
gosh. so ridiculous.
now we're going to pickle 2 people. chin kwan and chee ming. AHAHA. sounds like 2 cute little boys' names alright. get 2 glass coffins ready! we're all set to fill it up with formaldehyde to the brim. then we'll put them in and soak for eternity. meanwhile, chin kwan stays at my place and chee ming gets to guard the department. they'll meet every seventh day of the seventh month, of the solar calendar, since the lunar one has a date marked out for another pair.
oh this is so hilarious.
and then playing spastic games online with xinying just now. spastic, really is the right word. my goodness. but fun anyway. we're both obviously bored. continuing one of the spastic games. it was rather fun, until we realised it wasn't interactive. as in it wasn't a game that we played against one another, and so we quit it.
finished kokoro. 2 days flat. he's good. it was rather sad, the last part. somehow while it's no stunning plot, not some unpredictable thing or weirdo characterisation or futuristic dreams, it displays a simple idea that runs through the minds of those who read of general nogi's junshi after emperor meiji passed on. sensei's death is by no means junshi, in my opinion. but it could be read that way if you wished. but it is a good book nonetheless, because it is written simply with so much emotion and encaptures your heart. for the word kokoro means so much more than the organ that keeps your blood running through the arteries one way and veins the other.
suddenly I realised I haven't read questionable content in a few days. but I intend to forget about it for as long as I can bear, so that I can read as much as I can. I still remember all the characters and their status now, so it's not long enough a time. and I can still see marten's face when I want to remember him. which reminds me. I read a little of the encyclopaedia today while searching for something else. a marten is a furry mammal which is part of the weasel family! and it is SO CUTE. cuter than marten in qc. AHAHA. but marten is one cute little silly boy in qc. actually if a marten honestly existed, a lot of girls would love him to pieces. but as a little brother, I suppose. whatever.
lovesick huh, denise? it's too extreme, too extreme. ridiculous too.
tomorrow I must run an email to nani-kore.net. atspace has pulled a 500 error stunt on me again. and the ftp has conked out. so irritating. and then I must reply maril. I suddenly realised that I've forgotten to reply her for nearly a month. my goodness. and I'm much freer now. sigh.
but player piano I must read. things I must throw.
but I must find a job. my goodness.
now, I must SLEEP.
dyed by beloved filth :: 0048
12th june.
making some headway into the table clearing process. vicks made it sound as if I were on a mission to demolish my table though. honestly that would be easier. clearing is hard. but today looks more like tidying up. basically making sure that avalanches aren't going to happen anytime soon, and throwing out some strange bits of paper and folding up all the plastic bags and putting some books back where they usually belong, i.e. not on my table.
and I discovered that I have like 2 million receipts flying all over the place. I think I have a secret obsession with keeping receipts. I think. I have so many receipts. most of the rubbish small ones like a bottle of water from co op or a file from popular are long gone and incinerated, but I have like 3 months worth of ichiban boshi receipts, my present computer's receipt, the voucher we bought for wendy's receipt, of course that receipt from nus library, and a whole stash of edusave balance, cpf balance, bank statement letters blah blah blah that sort of thing. basically pieces of paper that tell me where my major money transactions go and how much went along with them. my goodness so many receipts. and I cleared my wallet again today and out tumbled another bunch of receipts. but those included petty receipts, past months' concession pass receipts and my previous library visits' receipts.
what a hell lot of paper.
but while I was burrowing through paper and throwing random bits and useless bits away, I scribbled on this good old notepad which has some of my bloggish thoughts when I'm unable to use the computer, or times when I'm at my desk and the comp's not on that sort of thing. and I realised I seldom scribbled beyond one page. I suppose it's tiring to write like that for a few pages running. it's easy to type -- especially since I have this uncanny ability to type faster than I even think sometimes. but writing is tough, and tiring, especially since now that we've stopped writing a lot. at least a few years back I wrote daily, even if it were just numbers or something at least I still held a pen and paper and had to write legibly enough for my teacher to read and mark and give me a decent grade without pointing out how awful my handwriting was.
besides writing on paper, I finished reading off some paper. I completed the man in the high castle by philip k. dick today. I think sometimes I know why philip dick went a little berserk towards the end of his life. he does write some bizarre things. I've apparently read both his normal books already, which are do androids dream of electric sheep which I did for a levels, and a scanner darkly which took me a long time to understand the title and its relevance to the book, but nonetheless a very good book with some poignant details and fast moving.
not to say that the man in the high castle was a terrible book. in fact it was a rather interesting one. it's one of those books which imagines if japan and germany had won the second world war, and half the world reveres the emperor and the other half salutes with a stomp, heil hitler. where the jews continue to be on the run, and the gestapo lives, along with the kempeitai. but it did get a tad boring at certain parts, and it's an odd book, because the characters are linked in fairly odd ways.
so since I'd finished that, I started on another book. I looked at the other 3 and decided to fish out kokoro, by souseki natsume. my eyes popped out at that name when I scanned the library shelves partly because there were so many of his books sitting prettily on the shelf, since they were all published by the same publisher, and I assume the translator is probably the same. these translators are rather faithful to one author, so that they fully capture the way the original author wrote and rewrite the book in the same manner the author wrote, but in a language that others can understand. the other part that made my eyes pop was because I recognised that name from the book we borrowed for our js1101e project. souseki was one of the authors moved, affected, and wrote literature after the death of emperor meiji, and the subsequent seppuku committed by general nogi maresuke and his wife, shizuko. souseki wasn't the one who knew nogi, there was another author mentioned in the same book who knew nogi and wrote much literature about honourable deaths, but souseki wasn't the one. but souseki was deeply affected nonetheless, and spewed a string of books around that time.
kokoro, or 心, in japanese, was left titled 'kokoro' instead of being translated into english, because I suppose the word 'heart' in english fails to encompass everything that kokoro really means. I haven't read very much yet, but some of the front parts strike my heart quite a bit. the story goes something like a university student had spent his post college holidays at a resort where he got to know this much older man, refered to in the entire book as Sensei, and his experiences of knowing this older and rather strange man and finally knowing what really happened in Sensei's life to make him the person he is.
"Finally, before leaving, I said to Sensei that I felt I had met him somewhere before but that i could not remember where or when. I was young, and as I said this I hoped, and indeed expected, that he would confess to the same feeling. But after pondering awhile, Sensei said to me, "I cannot remember ever having met you before. Are you not mistaken?" And I was filled with a new and deep sense of disappointment."
"As we were taking leave of each other, I had asked him, "Would it be all right if I visited you at your home now and then?" And he had answered quite simply, "Yes, of course." I had been under the impression that we were intimate friends, and had somehow expected a warmer reply. My self-confidence, I remember, was rather shaken then."
"Often, during my association with Sensei, I was disappointed in this way. Sometimes, Sensei seemed to know that I had been hurt, and sometimes, he seemed not to kno. But no matter how often I experienced such trifling disappointments, I never felt any desire to part from Sensei. Indeed, each time I suffered a rebuff, I wished more than ever to push our friendship further. I thougt that with greater intimacy, I would perhaps find in him those things that I looked for."
"It was not that Sensei disliked me at first. His curt and cold ways were not designed to express his dislike of me, but they were meant rather as a warning to me that I would not want him as a friend. It was because he despised himself that he refused to accept openheartedly the intimacy of others. I feel great pity for him."
""Whose grave is it then? Some relation of yours perhaps?" "No." Sensei would say no more about it. I decided to mention the matter no further. But after he had walked a hundred yards or so, Sensei suddenly reopened the conversation. "A friends of mine happens to be buried there." "And you visit his grave every month?" "Yes." Sensei told me no more that day."
"I felt from the start his strangely unapproachable quality. Yet, at the same time, there was within me an irresistible desire to become close to Sensei."
"Do you know why I go every month to my friend's grave in Zoshigaya?
Sensei's question was totally unexpected. He should, of course, have known that I did not know. I remained silent. Then, as
though realising what he had just said, Sensei went on:
"I have said the wrong thing again. I was trying to explain my earlier remarks because I thought they had irritated you. But in
trying to explain, I find that I have upset you once more. Let us forget the whole matter. But remember, there is guilt in loving.
And remember too that in loving there is something sacred."
I was more mystified than ever by Sensei's talk. But I never heard him mention the word 'love' again."
""At any rate," he continued, "don't put too much trust in me. You will learn to regret it if you do. And if you ever allow yourself
to feel betrayed, you will then find yourself being cruelly vindictive."
"What do you mean?"
"The memory that you once sat at my feet will begin to haunt you, and in bitterness and shame you will want to degrade me. I
do not want your insults in the future. I bear with my loneliness now in order to avoid greater loneliness in the years ahead.
You see, loneliness is the price we have to pay for being born in this modern age, so full of free, independence, and our own
egoistical selves."
I could not think of anything to say."
"I wondered also why Sensei felt the way he did towards mankind. Was it, I would ask myself, the result of a coldly impartial scrutiny of his own inner self and the contemporary world around him? And if one were as naturally reflective, intelligent, and as removed from the world as Sensei, would one inevitably reach the same conclusions?"
"But his thoughts, I felt, were based firmly on a strong sense of reality. And this sense of reality did not come so much from observation of the experience of others removed from himself, as from his own experience."
"I was rather surprised when a letter from Sensei arrived. I was even more surprised when I read it, for it seemed to have been written for no particular purpose. Sensei had kindly written, I decided, in reply to my letter. That he should have troubled to do so made me very happy. In case I have unwittingly given the impression that there was much correspondence between Sensei and myself, I should like to say here that in all the time I knew Sensei, I received from him only two pieces of correspondence that might strictly be called 'letters'. One of them was the simple letter that I have just mentioned, and the other was a very long letter which he wrote me shortly before his death."
perhaps you're wondering what's with the long long stash of excerpts from a book which I'm not even a quarter through. honestly speaking, I don't really know why I put all that either. but those were portions that stuck out at me through the some 40 pages I've read, and just poignant in their own way, which I do not wish to explain at this point of time. in fact I shall never explain them unless the occasion rises, and I remember these quotations. these mass quotations. perhaps more may come as I plough through the book. japanese writers touch me in a different way from the american or european writers. their insight into the human mind is different, bringing with their analysis a deep sense of cultures and mores that their counterparts halfway round the globe do not have.
before I depart from this application, I'd just add in something I stumbled upon yesterday while wiki-hopping. I'm doing a great deal of wiki hopping these days and finding some incredibly amusing finds. and this is not as random as you might perceive it. I fail to explain my context once more, and I present to you this:
Highs vary from:
- A feeling of euphoria
- Intense relaxation
- Most experience pleasure, but one out of five users experience a great deal of anxiety.
- Decrease in nausea (used medicinally for this)
- Laughter, giggle fits
- Sensory enhancement (colours, taste, sensation)
- Increased appreciation of music
Side effects include:
- Forgetfulness
- Laziness
- Distorted perception
- Trouble with concentration
- Paranoia
- Increased heart rate
- Dry mouth and throat
- Increased appetite
- Sensory confusion (random bad tastes, smells, sensations)
I'm sorry. somehow it's funny to me. I don't know why I'm always attracted to that spiky jagged edge leaved plant. more than the four leaf clover. way more. and apparently it's nearly impossible to overdose. you'd either have gone so crazy to remember its existence, or plain knocked out cold.
and there's a full forum on how to freaking grow it. my goodness the extent people go to.
I should sleep. what a good record I had last night. 11 something. now it's 1 plus. fantastic, I am.
dyed by beloved filth :: 0109
11th june.
I'm home!
like everybody say squee.
I have never done so much group evaluation in my entire life. sure, the whole camp was about evaluating, and boy did we do a LOT of that. evaluated our six months of studying the book of mark, working as a family, everything. it was one odd retreat, but a good one nonetheless. with its own fair share of funny and memorable moments. I guess it was really weird because I was there as like one of the eldest, and having to get the worship leading sessions running, and getting my musicians running. what with the power trips and therefore lack of keyboard. I've officially retired from the board of i/cs, I suppose. I hope. hee. I like being able to be dismissed and go straight to bathe and to bed. i/c meetings aren't exactly my cup of tea. I guess they're nobody's cup of tea, really.
I feel like I'm falling sick. I'm really sleepy now actually. plus I think I ate too much for dinner. I'm not even in the mood to turn on the itunes. then again, I'm rarely in the mood these days to turn it on. it used to be part of my 'switch computer on mechanism', whereby upon the completion of its startup, I'd activate messenger, firefox and then itunes. but these days it's just messenger and firefox, and that's that.
where's denise. I miss you too.
vicks had to go off early because she's got work tomorrow. which reminds me that my holiday holiday per se is technically over. I declared it to end on the 11th of june, and so it ends here. basically the cd's almost entirely left in steven's hands, and the design and written parts are not my responsibility, and they're pretty much almost ready anyway. then the retreat's over, the i concert rehearsals remain on sunday only, and so that's pretty much that too.
yawn again. crap my fingers are still feeling dry and crackly from last night. scrubbed the tongs last night. don't ask me what made me do that. I don't usually volunteer to wash anything, especially tongs and trays that were used for a barbeque. but I washed those stuff yesterday anyway and now because I used so much dishwashing liquid, my fingers are suffering such a fate. sigh.
which started samuel and I on some moisturizer talk which made jon and norman's face twist slightly and confirmed their ideas that we were indeed having girl talk at the sink washing dishes after all. ha. (not to mention that auntie sally was incredibly irritated with her son's centre parting when he was in lower sec because it looked 'so ah kwa'. poor sam.)
I think I shall sleep. I shall wake up at a decent hour tomorrow and begin to clean that table of mine. how's that?
(did I just say that?)
uh huh. so go sleep now. YAWN AGAIN.
dyed by beloved filth :: 2304
gackt's latest release gives me a sense of tragedy. which deviates from his usual cheesy or dramatic moves. yes this is as dramatic as gackt can get, but the drama isn't overwhelming in that exaggerated manner. it's quietening, making you think and feel the sadness flow.
now I'm talking about cloning the oppressor then pickling the clone. my goodness. we'll get harry dolls.
HA.
that's better than the initial plan to kill him and dump him into a glass coffin with formalin. the horror movie idea of him suddenly waking up suddenly made me think of the gackt commercials. the original fishtank worship one for the sixth day album, and the other ridiculously hilarious spinoff for the melomix jphones.
and then I was talking to matthias about kat-tun. what an oddity.
and I should continue to compile the lyrics/chords for the retreat. yes I will be MIA for the next 3 days or so, because I'm going away on church camp. =) daddy's sending me there. yes xinying uncle wu has relented. uh, I mean agreed. heh. he's been there before so there shouldn't be much of a fight.
my mother thought me controlling when I didn't want either of them to send me because they'd fly into a rage if I can't remember the route proper and I hate shouts, especially in the car. while I think she does have a point there, that some things must be done and are better done in this particular way despite the discomfort, then we shall just go through with it and forget about the temperaments because we can't control that. but I think I have a point as to children not liking to piss their parents off. well fine some children seem to enjoy pissing them off, but I don't, okay?
if you're going to tell me that ensuring that my behaviour doesn't piss my parents is controlling I haven't anything to say.
and pertaining to my buddy's topic of the taboo behind a teacher and student, as well as a much older man/woman with a younger woman/man, no I don't find anything disturbing or weird about it. there's nothing morally wrong per se with it. if anybody who reads this can find me one really good reason as to why such relationships should not exist, please tell me. and if you have an explanation as to why people think it shouldn't exist, tell me too. I don't understand why they label people as such scandalous, along with the string of 'dirty men', 'toyboys', 'sugar daddies', 'materialistic women', blah blah blah.
so there. I shall depart from this computer for a few days. don't miss me too much. sms is still an option. heh.
dyed by beloved filth :: 0102
6th june.
I knew there was something else I wanted to look for in the library. margaret atwood. MAN. but never mind, I ended up with vonnegut and that's pretty good too. I still think the most powerful utopian writing ever made is 2BR02B. absolutely powerful and wonderfully moving. sounds like some movie review. never mind.
finished editing step back. gosh. didn't expect ivana's playing to turn erratic on those parts. happily thought we could cut and paste. but she played on the whole thing live (unlike the cheatabug me) and so naturally certain rubato would occur and then that got me into a fix just now. but now that I'm more familiar with this application everything is much easier and much faster to handle and edit.
4th june was familiar eh? of course, I touched down from bkk last year on the 4th. knew it couldn't be anything truly historical.
oops. says a lot about myself.
talking to aileen who's in incredible (and awfully hot) india now. she's going for the wedding after all, it seems. her dad's going down to india to get her to kuwait. gosh. while I'm here editing a tragic song. of course I could start on piggyback now but I'm so lazy. ha.
perhaps I should just listen and hear if there's anything major to clean up.
what a good idea.
oh my bringing lian sze's headphones back rock man. I brought them back to edit the songs without blasting the whole house, or hurting my ears by using my earplugs. but they've turned out to be such fantastic speakers for me. and it helps that I'm listening to eternal melody I. somehow EM1 rocks way more than EM2. I was so excited to listen to EM2 when sister first got a copy of the songs but then it was like huh?
oh next is a fantastic song. rose of pain. based on bach's fugue in g minor. lovely, lovely.
I seldom get this classical you know. HAHA.
ohhh now it's carry by gazette. the clearest I've ever heard. well yes my earplugs are clear as well, but hello, I listen to my player like on the bus amidst stupid tv mobile, noisy children onboard, and then amazing engine roaring at the back.
and I suddenly hear kai's backup voice lurking in the background. I think after this whole recording thingy, I've become so attentive to these strange things, like backup vocals, layering, voice distortion. I've always noticed that kai is actually the backup voice of gazette, being as strange as it sounds. the mad busy smiling drummer behind that mess of cymbals and toms doesn't always sound like the best candidate for backup vocals. but whatever. I think I'll die if reita does it (his voice is so rough) and uruha was a joke. and judging from their speaking voices, indeed kai would be a natural choice, actually.
so what am I talking about.
but I must say that it is frightening to hear miyavi's screamish tunes and dir en grey's noise so clearly at night. it's horribly jarring. but now it's a easy listening song. seishun amigo. nobuta wo produce!! cute show really, but I wouldn't particularly watch it again anytime soon. in fact now I'm wondering about that 46-okunen no koi. it's a movie starring matsuda ryuhei and ando masanobu. 2 mad men, honestly. but ooooh kakkoii men. it sounds like a mad movie, really, and apparently it did come to singapore in january this year. which pisses me off, because hey it came and there was no sound about it. the only matsuda ryuhei film that had some noise about it was that lousy nonsensical nightmare detective that came in a few months later. I don't even recall this film coming. singapore called it big bang love, which is another popularly used title for this same film. I don't remember it, do you?
and I never realised how much bass starless night has. my goodness I feel like running out and getting a pair of headphones for myself now. I've wanted a set really, but they're expensive. earphones have always remained the smallest, most convenient and cheap stuff around to listen to your music at a decent quality. but headphones are so much more comfy. everybody tells me those clippy things are painful, and even more so because I wear glasses and they'll all clip one another. or something to that effect. which irritates, because actually earplugs make my ears hurt. especially when I listen to quite a number of hours while doing work and such. hurrmph.
checked what the i ching was all about. it's as good as pickup sticks meets divination lots. my goodness.
oh somehow or another I was led via wikipedia to the erlking, or Der Erlkönig, if you wish. there's an audio clip there too. fascinating piece. turned goethe's poem into a tragedy greater felt than it originally seemed to be. schubert did a fantastic job. it's not a long piece but it sticks inside of me, and I link lieder to that piece.
why on earth am I so classical today.
my heart rises into the sky, the nightmare travels higher. I try to communicate my thoughts to you, to the far distance I shine.
pickle to be into a glass coffin of formaldehyde. the poor boy doesn't know what we talk about.
dyed by beloved filth :: 0102
5th june.
I hope I got the comments link fixed. oops. didn't realise I didn't copy and paste it correctly, and somehow it disappeared. it's awfully late now but I want to blog anyway. terrible me.
I've caught up with qc. which stands for questionable content. web comic. so addictive. so trashy. so unbelievable that I read.
oh whatever.
no jiaxin I don't really think 4th june rang any bells for real historical moments. you must understand that the last history I studied was in sec 2 and thereafter I swore off history and most of whatever I know now is really either random bits that I've heard about, read about, or my friends' chanting while they're studying history. beyond that, history is, well, history.
perhaps if I search through my ridiculous archives I might find something stupid/good that happened to me on that date.
I suppose a normal entry would constitute my outing with my buddy and how ichiban boshi changed its menu into half crap but sophia came to talk to us about it and the stupid over enthusiastic manager came. speaking of which, whatever happened to blockhead?
however I have chosen to be introspective today. I shall be, until my hair dries.
it's bloody half past 2. whatever.
talking to buddy today. duh I went out with her. yes darling my life's been pretty much stable and all, and very safe. there, complete with hand action, there, so safe, nothing I do seems to make me fall. yes I suppose that nothing so far has really stabbed me in the back or pushed me down the stairs or tripped me in front of everybody. that's true. I haven't gone through real tough shit and cried myself all over. I've survived the usual rite of education without getting scarred (well let's face it, I can fail half the semester but get enough As for the final.). I'm a bitch for that. I know. I'm rather blessed, with an iq slightly over average but what the hell. I'm a lazy procastinating bum so there.
but you know for the longest time, I've been wondering when complacency will displace me.
like when it'll turn around and kick me in the butt and leave me in the lurch. when will the hubris end, and how would it end? but somehow because I am afraid of it doing that, I keep it down and try to tell myself that being so proud of myself and how smartass I can be doesn't help, and I'd fall. so I push myself up, but not quite far enough sometimes, and then I land in between and get by in life.
I'm spoilt rotten, absolutely cushioned, utterly sheltered.
let's face that. no I'm not naive, neither am I simplistic. but I lead a straight life and it's not all that wayward.
but maybe God willed it so because I'm not as strong as I seem to be. maybe God willed it so because He didn't make me a particularly determined human. perhaps He wanted to teach me to be one. to make me think about myself and realise what a wasted idiot I can be. who should stinking wake up and do something about herself.
it's really late, and all I can say is 家家有本难念的经。
it's true that events cannot be compared. some people obviously have it worse than others. but sometimes one's normal circumstance can be another's trauma. all we can do is not to compare how bad a rut we're in, and not to focus on the bad rut we're in. okay maybe coming from me sounds like crap, like what the shit do I know right? spoilt and sheltered child. but while I believe it's really hard, some things must be done. certain things must be thought over as such.
or we will lead miserable lives.
there is a difference in delusion and letting go though.
and I don't want to 醉生梦死。
it's frightening. and so sad. I don't know how it happens. there are days when I understand when denise says she doesn't want children because she doesn't want to be responsible for a life that's not yours.
but then again, while you're responsible for your life, you're not entirely in control of it either.
it's difficult to live life wanting things to happen and they don't. it's worse to live life knowing some things don't happen no matter what you do but you wished they happened anyway.
buddy I will write that email to you tomorrow I suppose. first thing tomorrow is to settle the worship leaders for retreat, then get the pails for chai heng, zhng the final recordings, email buddy, and then I'll see about going to terrence's house.
I'm still not one for brainless mass gatherings. it's nice to be with a bunch of friends. but I'm not entirely interested in an evening of people, noise, food, dvds.
but it's so anti to stay home with a book. and I've borrowed another stack of deep books. my brain, my brain.
I'll think about it tomorrow. I'm tired.
sleeping in esplanade library is nice though. good place to sit, look out at shenton way, and think about life. and then falling asleep on their lovely couch. sans minahs please. my goodness.
late. sleep.
dyed by beloved filth :: 0250
4th june.
somehow 4th june sounds like a familiar date. for some reason. as usual, right? and my library books go back home tomorrow, or I'd be chased by nlb. I'm always owing the library money, and I don't intend to be so anymore. hurrmph.
hurrahs for me who completed all my library books. on time. I thought I'd have to throw one back without even opening its cover. but then I ended up finishing every one of them, which is good for me. to a certain extent. now I don't have anymore "finish the darn books they're due really soon" nagging in my head, but that also means there's no more "I'm bored oh I've still got that library book to finish" going through too. so I shall restock myself. tomorrow I shall head down to the national library, throw my books back and get more stuff. preferably not as thick as catch-22. my goodness that book is so fat and heavy. I ended up carrying larger bags to fit it even though all I needed to go out was my valuables and brolly.
oh dear I must remember to like leave my house in 15 minutes' time or so. otherwise I'd just be glued right here, tearing my eyes off qc to update my blog, then returning to qc. gosh. oh and poor buddy's stuck on it too. oops I'm sorry dear.
ha qc just mentioned about gigolos. which brings to mind something that denise would understand. haha but no I will not tell the pickle-to-be that may endanger the nature of our present treaty between the islands that he would make a good gigolo. I am rather sure the boy does bloody freaking know that he's good looking and I'll leave it at that. whether he acknowledges his own realisation and discoveries is another matter altogether. after all if he lives in denial and false modesty and silly shyness and complete lack of a good response to a compliment, there's nothing I could do about that.
talking to my buddy about my lack of sympathy. not that I have a complete lack of it, but sometimes I think it doesn't really need to be manifested. it wouldn't harm to have your own quiet moments to think about crap in life and cry half your eyes out and wail all you want and tear some rough paper or sing 4 hours of karaoke. or whatever you want to do to get rid of the stress, the pain, the weirdness, whatever.
at least I don't fancy sympathy very much. I'll cry by myself thank you very much. I don't really like the 'oh my gosh that's like so awful are you going to be okay are you sure you're alright and that's darn evil of that whoever it is'. it ties in with my incredulous cynism and realism doesn't it. oh dear. not that I doubt all forms of sympathy and concern and care-giving and affection but people around me must learn that I like silence for some time. if I want to talk about it and hear your concern I'll tell you when I'm done with myself. I don't really want to sound like a illogical bitch who just wants everyone on her side.
okay it's pretty much time to go. I hope everybody makes it down as promised. and that matt is not to give me tv repairman timings. it's his song for crying out loud.
and I got the punk en ciel songs. FINALLY. they aren't all bad. (actually only promised land and honey turned out this bad) oh and my may2007 archive link is working now. I put up the page yesterday. and thanks denise for pointing out the error in the title. goodness knows why I put july instead of june.
dyed by beloved filth :: 1534
3rd june.
oh my buddy's online. my goodness haven't seen her around in a while man.
I wasn't supposed to start the entry like that. I was supposed to talk about drew. the emo boy who is going to emo all over me if I am supposed to become the bearer of bad news.
of course I could wait for thursday night to come and let somebody else do it. and meanwhile we bloody mail the completed song to steven and pretend I didn't freaking know what was going on.
and that nobody else knew.
when actually we all do.
okay at this rate nobody knows what the shit I'm talking about. but that tin of crackers enjoying himself across the causeway said he hadn't told drew and he'd settle it when he gets back. but personally I think it's too late. and it is such an evil idea. yes yes it's for a higher purpose and drew's more emotional than some other people but OEI that's not nice.
oh dear. matt thought the tin of crackers would be brutally honest. I told him that the crackers doesn't know the meaning of direct. he'll go round the biggest mulberry bush you've ever seen in your life. true, he's more brutal to the male species, but hey he's still not direct. he'll give that I'mreallysorrywehadtodothis and Ihopeyouwillunderstandbutwedidntreallyhaveachoice and maybe throw in a nexttimewewontdothistoyou and a stupid promise.
okay that's what happened with someone else. but that was a girl, fine. or not fine. I insist that such gender preferential treatment is not needed in such instances.
I don't want it to happen to drew but it will.
poor child. the heart of a sixteen year old.
and I must sleep. or mother may come barging out of the room and scream at me for not sleeping early enough. but I am so hooked on questionable content. my goodness. and it's nearing #500 now! (yes I'm darn fast right? but not fast enough.)
goodnight.
dyed by beloved filth :: 0111
2nd june.
I am going to be a jerk and write the date on the left, while aligning the rest of the text on the right. see whatcha going to do about that. nothing really. I didn't really offend anybody. I'm self rambling my goodness.
I finally put this up only today, because the picture was done only yesterday anyway. like great, right? I went on with may happily without making a new layout for june. and since I'm all about gazette in suits and all, and I just can't resist this damned picture, here's to gazette in suits. it's scanned by rawkstarr23 on lj, and it comes from my oh so favourite issue of arena 37 special, june 2007, vol.33. and it's all 5 of them. I usually make layouts of just 1 guy/girl out of the whole bunch.
mummy is tossing in bed. I should go sleep soon.
for some strange reason mummy is sleeping in the study room (okay actually I think I know why). combined service tomorrow, which means early morning. I shall sleep really soon to avoid dozing tomorrow through the recording. when I'm feeling really sleepy, I either get rather cross easily, or my standards drop. both are bad.
but I'm still reading questionable content. the shitty part? the current strip is at #895. and I am where?
#197.
and the darn strip is every monday through friday. my goodness. it doesn't take long to read, but hey ploughing through 800 pages of the comic is pure madness, not to mention that the comic continues while I am reading.
and I shall go sleep.
dyed by beloved filth :: 0053