Wednesday, November 29, 2006 // 9:26 PM
When youre weary, feeling small,
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all;
Im on your side, when times get rough
And friends just cant be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Thursday, November 16, 2006 // 12:41 AM
Psychological Exercise
I think I'm shifting. I think I shall waltz over to wordpress, and try to be honest, since I can't here, anymore. If you're the reason(s) why, you should know, not that I blame you (not really) or want to be unkind or Not A Friend. It is just that (even if things have changed where you(s) are concerned) I feel objectified, and my defenses are up like crazy and I hate that, I really hate that. So this is my way of putting you(s) behind me, this is my way of telling myself, I can get away. Even though I know you'll find me eventually, inevitably, it's not that I'm password-locking myself, because I just don't want to be like that, yet. I want to tell myself that I dare to be honest.
So yes, farewell; If you want to know where I've gone just ask, you can drop me a mail at kurzlich [at] gmail [dot] com. If my gmail doesn't spam you out. Eventually people will link me up and I'll be a functioning social unit, all over again.
Sunday, November 12, 2006 // 11:38 PM
Exams, but:
1) It's spectacular how vacant my mind has been, lately. It is not that I haven't been studying, rather, it is that I have been studying, and there is nothing more brainless, sometimes. In some ways I'm glad I didn't start too early because I'd be bored out of my skull right now, and when I read things that I don't find interesting, it puts me to sleep and I don't remember them. But also, the boredom I find in my life right now translates into my mind going all over the place and having very damaging thoughts. I've discovered that I can't Not Engage Myself, because it's just not healthy, I really believe that. Throughout the days I keep telling myself not to succumb to self-pity and the reminder that part of the crappiness I feel is purely circumstancial/situational has been some sort of a hopeful comfort.
2) I can't write for nuts. I hate this, that my vocabulary has fallen to bits. I want to read and exactly what I mean, not this voluminous regurgitation. I hope to wake up tomorrow for my shakespeare paper in a fit of brilliance.
3) And we played in the rain, that day, when the rooftop garden flooded to mid-calf, splashing around like overgrown children, it made me happy like nothing else. Because I like wreckless abandon, innocuous sorta (I only thought about the getting sick after that), but I've yet to find someone who will commit as wholeheartedly to fun as I want to, sometimes. Though they gave in after a while.
4) What was interesting today: snippets of gender conversations, Brandon articulating, and Joel's I think I'll never understand girls. Which was amusing, which I like, actually, sitting down and realising the difference. And trying to empathize.
5) Empathize: this whole A level thing has drawn me closer to my batch, because, really, they are the only people who understand. People like Kinyip try and I'm grateful for effort, but it's just not the same. There is nothing quite as comforting as knowing that you aren't alone, at the end of the day.
6) Empathize: This may be my last bout of Literature exams, because I'm half disillusioned with Literature and am unlikely to do it in University. Honestly, what I want to do is to go to theatre school but that dream is just so far fetched as to be beyond real consideration. Utilitarian, Lit just doesn't seem useful, beyond a certain point, never mind that it comes easy, never mind that it's still a deep-rooted interest. Theatre seems to be my way of making it real.
7) Working with Tim and Selena for worship has been a very interesting experience, because of their fixation with precision. In some ways it shows me the value of formal training that I've only started to really think about this year, and I want to put myself through the process because I've long felt like I've hit a brick wall where my music is concerned. As a musician I'm fascinated to encounter an entirely new style in the form of Tim's playing, and while I listen I take and keep what I like, and discard what I don't, and it's made me that much more self-aware of my own personal style. In my head I am Jewel Kilcher, raw and personal; I am a closet guitarist and it is that rhythm back and forth in my head, but after a few hours of trying and listening yesterday I could play completely unlike myself, and that was interesting. The next thing I want to do is fix is the technicality, my ritard fingers that just cannot do the things I want them to, in my head.
Saturday, November 11, 2006 // 3:58 AM
Sometimes it feels like Jo understands. Oh well, as big of a cliche I am being, with all these philosophies pitting themselves against each other in my head, it is something I think about, and until I resolve it with myself somehow, it isn't going to go away. I can't peaceably pretend the world's one fantastic place to me all the time.
But I do know one thing, though, I need people to keep me sane. The inside of my head doesn't seem to be that bad a place until I get to talk to people again and realise that one of two options makes me much happier, that there are reasons, really, for why I think the way I do. Went for supper with Kinyip and Terence and talked rubbish and non-rubbish and walked home and sat with them in the playground I associate with Kinyip because I've spent hours there talking to him before. I feel like I haven't really talked to anyone in the longest time, and I liked tonight, because the two of them are a good combination because everyone's on even ground where the other person is concerned.
Walking out to meet them, from my house to the bus-stop, I thought about Dennis and how I once walked around the neighbourhood with him and how he'd spottted a bee-hive and wanted to report it. And how he said something about being very civic-conscious, or something like that. Which is something rather strange to associate with him, right now. I don't know why, but he's got a very distinct impression, in my mind.
I repeat, it's been a gorgeous day, outside. I'm glad I got to walk so much, and I'm glad for the company because it's been so long. To be comfortable and personal and as honestly superficial or whatever as I want to be.
Sunday, November 05, 2006 // 9:19 PM
Make Or Break
Nervous: break out the laughing fits and angsty music, the melodrama the hyperbole. There was a gorgeous blue sky, and a moment I might have died for, previously, under A Different Set Of Circumstances. Even with one eye on the clock I can tell, this is gorgeous weather.
Anxiety: because the hours ahead are stacked up, back to back, in front of me on a piece of paper, this will take. A lot of adrenalin, to kick start and maintain, this will need. A lot of pep talks and soothing music, to survive, to live through, and Make instead of Break. Anything close to a nervous breakdown right now would be fatal, as would falling sick.
I haven't stopped kicking myself over GP. I still don't want to talk about it. It is the worse when you know exactly what you have to do, exactly what is required of you, and then you don't do it.
The. The Depressed Of Late has various reasons, and I don't know which one is really it. I love sitting here and talking about it like it will be over, soon, that I will feel happier, because from the inside of my head it sure does not feel like it, has not felt like it. Talk to me, in soothing voices, tell me how I will be A-Okay, tell me how you'll be home and again, and I'll be whole again. Like that is all it takes, another good conversation, a hug and enough hand-holding to feel like someone understands. I hate to admit to the sneaking suspicions, so I will fill my mouth with these inane and mundane words and tell myself to study, to wait it out, that this space is not forever.
So I was thinking, about how I won't know what to do with myself, after the A's. It's been so long that I already feel the whutsthemeaningofmylife, and etc etc etc. I hate what I see of myself, but there is no time to sit down and talk and think about it. Today in the middle of congregational singing I suddenly thought about how I haven't drawn for very very very long. Or written, or etc etc etc. Find myself, after the A's, what I was like, what might make me feel alive. I can see myself watching a lot of movies and spending a lot of money on productions.
I want to do something wreckless, right now, because it would make me smile, because i would give me something nice to remember, from this time of my life. Because it sure as heck would calm me down, to dye my hair green, tomorrow, or something. I want Kevin to come online right now so that we can insult each other for the last ten minutes I'm allowed to be online, because that would make me happy, to have him be the witty sort of pinata.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006 // 9:56 PM
I have been so distracted. And now it is here, la la la. I'm freaked like crazy.
Let the games begin.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006 // 12:45 AM
you...you.. .BOURGEOISIE! says:
what exactly does cia stand for?
you are the cheese in the cake, the sauce on the steak, and the extra hands on vishnu says:
cyclical igneous association of course
you are the cheese in the cake, the sauce on the steak, and the extra hands on vishnu says:
its a geologist's dream
I love Kevin, and his sense of humour.
Things That Get To Me
-Intergrity, but not a mindless one.
-That fine line between stubbornness and standing up for what you believe in.
-Honesty, most importantly honesty with yourself.
-People who do what they care about well. Who care enough, who dare enough, since a lot of people will cop out and feign apathy where it is just cowardice standing in the way, the idea of failing.
-Intelligent people, but not those that feel the need to constantly prove that they are intelligent.
-A good heart.
-A sense of humour, and an ability to laugh at oneself.
-People who make me not want to be an indulgent self.
-People who dare to be strange, though not ostentatiously so. In fact, people who are sincerely boring and aren't afraid of it I can respect.
The more we feel, and think and talk about it, the more I think that Love Lives are just too much work, and too much futility. I'm not going to rethink this until a good enough reason to do so occurs to me, and forcibly makes me eat my words.
Saturday, October 28, 2006 // 1:14 AM
All Apologies: Sorry, very much so, for not having been honest. This is my blog and more than anywhere else (except in private conversations) I should be honest here, in a long run sort of way, I am determined to.
Sorry to a particular few, because Honest With You is just about the last thing I want to be, right now. I don't think I can be blamed for the way I am reacting, but that doesn't mean I like it, that doesn't mean I should sit around and let myself become cruel. Or anything else, really. Either we mend or we don't, I can't pretend I feel benign towards you(s) right now. But I don't want the legacy this leaves on me, at the end of the day it is me who has to live with myself. I don't want to be affected in ways that I will later not be able to reconcile with my self-respect. I don't want to give a false hope, I don't want to feed a monster inside because I have stood in those shoes and I know how it feels, and must therefore be sympathetic, must at least try, to fight the knee-jerk slap in the face. You are a human being, I hope you never forget that, I hope you never let me convince you otherwise. But that much is irrelevant to the person I am inside, a huge part of me will walk away if that's what it takes for me to be allowed to be myself.
Family: These past few days have helped me see things from Ma's perspective, because I am acutely aware of how she is left here without Da and thus could more than reasonably be feeling rather lonely, and thus have been trying to spend more time talking to her.
It's been interesting, psychoanalysing my mom with her like I would with a friend, talking her round and letting her talk herself round. And observing how she and my dad interact, as a couple, which is what they are, really. Asian values, relevant because of how my family is going; It occurred to me that day that it would make my parents extremely happy for me and my siblings to get married.
A levels: I don't care anymore, it's just the A levels, man. Ain't no end of the world. I'm all anxietied out, from the weeks of nervous breakdowns before, maybe this is an extremely good thing. But Don't Care doesn't mean Don't Study, because I still will still am, it just means don't get a heart attack about it daily. Maybe I'll do well and maybe I won't, it's nice to know there's more to life.
Oh but I found out today that Paper 8 is PC, not Paper 1. Went half hysterical on Sharon when she told me, but it's much better than finding out say the day before that it's a paper I've actually got to study for.
Feeling: Happy enough, holiday enough, clarity enough; I wonder if all the Head On Straightness will survive you. It's one thing to say, enough with the silliness let's put it all behind, and it's an entirely different thing, really, how you feel in the moment itself. I don't want that anymore, right now I am interested in maintaining the happy stability of my universe.
Friday, October 27, 2006 // 12:55 AM
A worm just crawled out of my laundry basket, and kept very still for five minutes while my eyes bulged out of my head staring at it. It's actually quite interesting, in an unspeakable disgusting way (because the idea that this thing has been fraternizing with my clothes dammit is beyond gross) because it stayed in it's little brown covering looking like a harmless piece of lint, every once in a while poking its little black head/tail out of each end, and retreating hastily upon realising that it was still being spied on. By huge all powerful human, me, who after briefly fantasizing about dissecting it up for curiosity's sake, flushed it down the toilet bowl. Can I say, this is beyond beyond beyond disgusting, and I am thus giving up on work for today to clean my room.
Work: I am so, so completely dead. I can feel myself overstudying for history, and the idea of trying to confront my econs right now actually terrifies me. And I have been dreaming about the end of November, about next year. The freedom to have my head on straight.
And I realised lately that I have actually felt quite stifled in the last two years. Environment, I love the irreverence of humanz, the fact that we get away with so much; People individually are really interesting but sometimes just awkward as a sort of uneasy high-school cocktail and I hate that, being uneasy, holding back. Comfortable, yes and yet not really; Creative, yes and yet not really. At the end of the day academia per se bores me, the ideas on the page don't move or breathe until you put them in the minds and mouths of people who will do something interesting with them.
Sunday, October 22, 2006 // 11:20 PM
Things I Want To Remember About the Weekend
1) The waterbomb fight: the scene of everyone down in the carpark having a good time, Aunty Esther peering down at them with us up on the rooftop garden, Brandon's face when we ambushed him, the evening stillness up at the roof top garden (even if only for the brief minute while I was rushing off for tuition). How happy everyone looked.
2) Sunday's lunch and sampling copious amounts of ice cream, Fong's euphoria at discovering that there was a one for one deal at Haagen Daz.
But I regret it now, slightly, because of the work undone, because of the consequence come crashing down another week closer to my a levels. I can't afford another weekend like this one for a very long time.
Friday, October 20, 2006 // 12:50 AM
"The horror of that moment," the King went on, "I shall never, never forget!"
"You will, though," the Queen said, "if you don't make a memorandum of it.
~Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass
I hope I remember, this happiness I feel right now, the calm and the peace that is unlikely, three weeks from my exams. But I'm glad for it, I'm thankful, I want to say Blessed be Your name, in the land of the plentiful; Where Your streams of abundance flow, blessed be Your name.
The rest is slightly more difficult.
Thursday, October 19, 2006 // 1:53 AM
Clarity
So, I've kinda semi-made a decision, to go to Australia after all, for University. At least I am considering it. Actually this is pending, this is pending the chance that I get into an Ivy or at least a really good Liberal Arts College (Which people tell me I'd love, for artsy-fartsy-ness, among other things), which I'd still go to instead for sheer opportunity. I haven't yet admitted this to Ma, that I'm thinking ever so seriously about it, and I think she'd be overjoyed. But the Right Now consequence of this new option is that I don't feel like studying anymore, and cannot bring myself to, because I am not shooting out for that much. Since Melbourne U is not so terribly difficult to get into.
Hello, Academia: It's been so long, that we've been at this, I really don't care anymore. I just want this to be over, I want my life back, I want to live and laugh and love and feel like someone more than just half alive. Today we talked about the plans to be made, after all this is behind us, I want to make a list, sometime soon, I want to do something to prevent all that glorious time from slipping through my fingers. I'm glad, I'm glad for clarity come one step closer, I'm glad for the realisation that I am not determined by humanz ambitions, that I can take and leave what I want and what I don't, respectively. Clarity, clarity because there are different value systems and you choose the one that resonates with you, clarity because you make for yourself the decisions of what kind of person you want to be, what kind of life you want to live, and no one- no individual or community or institution- can ever make you do something you don't want to.
(The only things that you can't run away from are the practical realities, but I'm getting used to the idea, and most people live through it, in one way or another.)
So, what am I expecting, what is it I want, hello World and The Rest Of My Life, unfold before me, stretch out for my inspection. Really, what I really really want is love, and my artsy-fartsy-ness.I really want to do theatre, maybe this is just because I haven't done enough of it to hate it yet, maybe I haven't suffered enough frustration or prima donna bitchiness. But I'll take a chance with it, because I find it fascinating, because of skill involved, I want to be, ambition takes this form of talent, and whether I am good enough an actress or not is quite irrelevant to the way I feel, right now. Ask me in a while, maybe, when I can't get any roles I want, when I've discovered that actors are just pawns for the directors to move around, to make or break; perhaps I will feel different. But right now, I think of the day jobs, desk jobs, and it is not that I am dismayed, because I will be happy enough.
The way of a fool seems right to him, but a wise man listens to advice (Proverbs 12: 15); Right now, it occurs to me that I wish I had taken advice, about the things done in my life. There is a lot of uneccessary pain I didn't have to put myself through, alot of choices that could have been so much better made had I taken some advice. My refusal to heed advice, in fact my very deliberate turning in the other direction is partly a manifestation of this desire to be my own person, to make own decisions, but I think it is close to the time where I need to put the childishness aside.
And I've discovered something about friends, and what they are, and what they're worth. And how few they really are, how precious few, but a person doesn't really need a heck lot of close enough friends, to get by. There is no way to fake it, really, there is no way to conjure up a fake closeness that might fool anyone at all, from inside, and there is no point trying to do so because all it protects is a bit of face and a lifestyle of unapproachable loneliness. I am not interested in the way it may seem, right now. So this is dedicated to the people whom I love and care about, who have shared with me lives and who have done my the honour of honesty. There is nothing more I could ask for.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006 // 11:28 PM
Joyce says:
and tin is a Really Important Metal
Joyce says:
rice.. is a staple carb
Joyce says:
you eat it every day!!
Take it easy, yo. says:
hurhur ah yes. now everytime i eat it i shall observe a minute's silence for its long and turbulent history
This is Joyce trying to impress upon me the value of SEA economic history, which includes the considering of pressing issues like the importance of tin to south east asian economies in the 1870s. And rice. And rubber, and teak, and copra, or corpa, whatever that is. Kill me, I hate this topic.
I learnt today, that cofee helps you concentrate, and alcohol does not. So. I think my A level study strategy needs a bit of revising.
(To Xinyi, because How The Heck Do You Work That Tagboard?: glad to be of service :D)
Monday, October 16, 2006 // 12:37 AM
let the streets resound with singing says:
hmm, haha we talk about this during bio too
let the streets resound with singing says:
like advantages of asexual repro : no time and resources or energy is needed to find a mate
Take it easy, yo. says:
hurhur
Take it easy, yo. says:
that's quite funny.
Take it easy, yo. says:
YA HORH. see la, guys so troublesome. lets just cut ourselves in half
Take it easy, yo. says:
:D
let the streets resound with singing says:
like it's such a chore having the reproduce sexually
Take it easy, yo. says:
hurhurhur. women of theworld unite! we can figure something out :D
// 12:20 AM
Take it easy, yo. says:
so he was like well if you think about it, for most of you academics etc are going to be a relatively small part of your life. a lot of you are going to spend a lot of your time trying to find someone to marry anyway
Take it easy, yo. says:
which is quite true la
Take it easy, yo. says:
not the marrying bit, but there IS more to life
Take it easy, yo. says:
and i cant wait to get back to it
Take it easy, yo. says:
i just hope there's something to get back to
let the streets resound with singing says:
mmm=( yes that's quite a depressing thought.
let the streets resound with singing says:
but, yea i do think there will be something to get back to!
let the streets resound with singing says:
i mean maybe not immediately. i think after As we'll be in a state of shock for a few days or smt, lost maybe
I hope I remember this, the maybe not immediately. I can see myself over-reacting and getting very depressed in the period right after the A's, and doing the whole meaningless meaningless thing. Alternatively, maybe it'll be easier than I expect for me to snap back into having a social life, and I'll do the play hard thing as I usually do in the holidays, and find myself more tired than anything else, at the end of it all.
Oh but have you thought about how that was two years of your life? (As is NS, two years of your life). Just like that, in a snap, in a flash, all of a sudden I feel like I'm looking Something Like Adulthood in the eye. Not terrifyingly so, but still. On Friday when Perry said the words I thought about the very first day of school (minus the first two days of academic talks, which I skipped), and how he picked Gery and Aaron as class reps, and the theatrics and the way I first reacted to the tutors, etc etc etc. I don't think it has really occurred to me yet that those two years are drawing to a close, perhaps because there are Bigger And More Consequential things to be thinking about right now. So, so maybe I will mourn after the A's, or something else appropriately sentimental.
NICK [Calla en el dia canta en la noche] says:
you're a happier specimen now
Which is true, I like how this phrase falls together. I am happy this weekend.
Saturday, October 14, 2006 // 12:41 AM
I haven't been honest with myself in a very long time. I miss myself, I hate myself. I hate how I'm melodramatic and yet ever so contemptuous on so many different counts. I want meaning, I'm judgemental as heck and I don't know how to be different. I wish I didn't feel the way I feel right now, the now knowing why not knowing why not knowing why.
List because I'm too tired to elaborate, but don't want to lose what I'm half-learning
1) I've been taking Ma for granted. Living with Michael as a housemate has made me realise how much she indulges me.
2) Mike can be sweet sometimes. He drove all the way down to school today to drop off my file and it really surprised me. But I'm thankful. I love my brother even though I would never admit this to him hurhur.
3) Family is ever so important.
4) Stand up for what you believe in.
5) I've gotten pretty vulgar. It's the norm to me, but there is a standard. This goes for a lot of things, really.
6) I've been thinking about what Lincoln said, about how he knows that at this stage in his life he cares more about the superficial than about things like character, so he's made a decision to wait until it's the other way around, to even start thinking about getting attached.
7) I am so theatrical I don't know who I am.
8) I am sick of being known as angsty, melodramatic, etc etc etc. I hate being trivialised like that, it makes me want to be extremely violent.
9) Now I am purely functional, and nothing else. I can imagine living my entire life like this, a series of events, I don't think I'd kill myself because it is not really that bad, there are cheap thrills enough to go around. But, but it's not enough, but something, something's missing.
10) The defences, I wish they weren't necessary.
11) What I long for:
There is a day
That all creation's waiting for,
A day of freedom and liberation for the earth.
And on that day
The Lord will come to meet His bride,
And when we see Him
In an instant we'll be changed
The trumpet sounds
And the dead will then be raised
By His power,
Never to perish again.
Once only flesh,
Now clothed with immortality,
Death has now been
Swallowed up in victory
We will meet Him in the air
And then we will be like Him
For we will see Him, as He is
Oh yeah!
Then all hurt and pain will cease
And we'lll be with Him forever
And in His glory we will live
Oh yeah! Oh yeah!
So lift your eyes
To the things as yet unseen,
That will remain now
For all eternity.
Though trouble's hard,
It's only momentary
And it's acheiving
Our future glory.
Friday, October 13, 2006 // 1:25 AM
Answer
So, so about recent developments, I don't know how I feel. Beyond the initial alarm at the decision, I've thought my way around the circle. I haven't made up my mind, what to think, what to fight for; I need to know more about what, what exactly.
I actually have a bunch of question to ask, I would like to know: what is worship. Who will tell me, who can tell me? A couple of months ago I would not have needed telling, a couple months ago I would truly have been able to say that I was serving, as a pianist, in every sense of the word. But now I am not, in my heart of hearts; Recent Developments have made me consider this, have made me consider my own stand (which didn't seem to be a negotiable, at first), and my own understanding of worship, and the idea that I may be motivated by self interest makes me stop short, bite my lip, revise myself, I cannot pretend to mean this when deep down inside I am suspicious of myself. Service is not service if it is service to yourself, and let me admit that this has been me, lately. I've been playing the piano for the aesthetics of it, at best it is a detached sort of tinkering with the music to achieve a certain effect, at worst it is just a stage an audience for my theatrics, a chance to prove myself; This disgusts me, about myself, how I have perverted this thing called worship, by not bothering to try and understand. I can't remember the last time I worshipped with my heart, I think to some extent I've given up on the heart of worship because it is so difficult, takes too much work, takes too much honesty with myself that I haven't been able to bear, lately. I don't know, the entire thinking about university thing the entire focusing on my studies thing has made me revise my standards, my values, and now I'm in this limbo space of not knowing what the heck it is that I stand for, anymore. Where I can find meaning in my life, I hate to use this phrase, because I am sick of being melodramatic, but I guess I can't run away from it. So, so answer me some questions, what does this institution stand for? What do Christians stand for? So how much of it is the standard we strive for and how much of it is the utter depravity inside of us that we cannot run away from? So, so how can I worship if I'm not sure if I even believe in the idea of worship, anymore?
It occurs to me that Christianity never used to be this pigeon-holeable thing called religion, to me. If truth is truth it is worth fighting for, it is worth living and dying for, literally, and that's what people throughout history have done, that's what conviction does, gives you meaning, gives you a certainty you can't explain. I want that back but I am not sure, anymore; I don't feel a guilt trip, I don't feel ashamed of my doubts, but what I do want are some answers. And not a Christian habit, not a Sunday-morning routine, not just a comfortably Christian community (I know we will never be perfect - that is not the point. This should never be an excuse.) What I want to know, is, do you believe, and how do you believe, and why do you believe, and what do you believe? And, and so, so What are the by-products of conviction? What comes beyond the knowing of the model answers, knowing of the way you feel?
It occurs to me. At the end of the day, with my all my ambivalence, I am still a Christian. And though I put my fists up and want to fight even my own faith, it is not with the purpose of abandoning it, it is because I want something more real than the half-baked whatever I am living now. This is still something that resonates with me, this is still a community that I have meaningfully invested in and will probably continue to do so; When I take all the complicatedness away, this is still a community that I care for, and not just because of the people. But I, I would like the answers.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006 // 11:20 PM
Simple Things
Funnily enough, the highlight of my day was two hours spent with Aunty Sophie :) Teaching her piano and pottering down the the mess hall with her to get dinner, she's like the grandmother I never had. She's silly and sensible, I'm amused at her to them, you are my sun1 (grand-child), Carson (her 40 something year old son who looks like he's in his late twenties) also my sun1 (grand-child), because it's too much trouble to explain that neither of us are. I'm very fond of her and I am looking for someone nice to teach her when I leave for wherever; someone who will bother to be nice to her and indulge her grandmother-ness. She's a very cute little lady <3
This goes out to my girl-friends, who are the best, and I love you all :) Because everyone needs some.
Thursday, October 05, 2006 // 10:23 PM
Not Maudlin
Pterence the Pterodactyl says:
alternatively
Pterence the Pterodactyl says:
you could fedex yourself to me :D
I'm so tired, I want to shrivel up on this kitchen floor and not move, til tomorrow. I blame youtube, and the whoselineisitanyway videos, and Marcus, for getting me started: much love to all three :D
Ma and Da just left for Australia, and I have no idea when Da will be back. Firstly, I don't know whether the house will still be standing in a week, because I doubt very much that me or Mike is going to do very much housework, any at all, beyond our personal spaces, and this house is just too big for all the work we are unwilling to do. And secondly, I don't know how I feel about this idea of not seeing my father, for I don't know how long and then some time after, even though I don't talk to him much he's been easier to get along with, lately, pottering around the house feeding the fish and bringing our laundry out. I can tell it makes him happier to be at home and semi-retired, and I hope he's happy in Australia, and I hope he doesn't completely lose himself in a world that we cannot relate to. (Not that we do much relating, with each other, other than the blood ties which we- or I at least - had no choice about.) So I am not maudlin, sentimental about his leaving permanently in phases which this particular trip marks the start of, I note with a rather unemotional eye that he has taken my green and black suitcase from the top of my cupboard, and has been ingenious with rafia and rubber tubing handles for the coolers that hold his insulin and computer equipment. But while I am not maudlin, I know Ma would be, about this whole idea, about the family literally being dispersed over different countries especially since I'm not really that old now am I. This is the sort of thing you see when the second generation has gone off to study in a foreign country and fallen in love with some specimen of native and thus has decided to plant themselvs in that new continent. I don't qualify and sure as heck Mike doesn't, maybe Michelle but even so only maybe. It feels strange to think that my family is going to be all over the place, I don't know, what does one come home to, then?
This has been an frivolously eventful bunch of days, and some day when I have recovered from the late nights spent on youtube, I will think about them, and try to pin them down. But this has been a happy enough week, a peaceful enough week, an unanxious enough week, and, and I really should study. I'm not quite noticing the time, the days, counting themselves down; Here's what I noticed today; The world looks like it might through the lens of an indie film camera, because of the haze; the air is a slow shroud blanketing us as we step outdoors, and things are dim and fuzzy around the lines if you stare hard at them for long periods of time. It looked like a gorgeous day from the bus window on the way home.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006 // 12:22 AM
Grapple
I find myself newly unable to articulate myself. To articulate anything. It is strange, I don't like this, the silence in my head that is flat and mundane and feeling nothing. The numbness is boring, the saying nothing is boring, and the boring is not only boring, it's frightening and frustating and I want to get away from it. I want to go to school largely too because there are people there, people who talk and laugh and say things and that makes me happy. People with lives and interests and who share my liking for media consumption, people who are not studying too much or too little, and who will still probably all do well anyway.
And not being able to articulate myself is a very bad thing also because of the 26 essays that I will be writing in a bout a month's time, the 26 essays the 91 sides that will determine my future, or rather will determine the process that will determine my future, or rather will determine the process that represents me stepping into my future. The word future has never seemed so scary before, I think really I should calm down and stop seeing things in the utmost extreme. Because I have a sneaking suspicion that all my current anxiety about this particular panic-inducing f word in my life is a little bit of an over-reaction. Please.
And I want so much to say, sorry for the way I have been, sorry for the things I have said. Maybe you make the excuses for me in your head, maybe you accept that this is what I am like, but I won't, I don't want to, it is not a person I want to be. The foot in mouth, all the time, my way with words and how I abuse them, what I have been blessed with and how I have taken it for granted, I apologize. I apologize because I should know better, I am just old enough, and yet not so old that I should be jaded, unsympathetic, like I have been, of late. You wouldn't tell from the way I have been acting that I know exactly how you feel. I don't have a right to be irritated or judgemental, because of how much I have been given, how much I have gotten away with.
So I've been thinking about Law, Studying Law, versus Studying Psych, or English; I've been thinking about the why that Fong said, when I told her that I'm probably going to do law. I've been thinking of what a sell-out it represents, I'v been thinking about how I can find no other reason to do law other than that the money is good. I've been thinking about how much I will hate it, actually, public law and criminal law and etc, the entire process, don't even talking about the practice. Because. Because the institution, the macro view of society, its impersonality, obliterates the human being which I am so fascinated with, and. And I don't think I'd like that very much, and I'm also the sort of person who's worldview, who's social people-view is very much influenced by the intellectual processes that I am put through, I can't really deny that. And with Psych perhaps this is a greater danger, I don't want to turn into a walking attempt to capture everyone else in words and ideas and psychological theories. (Like someone I know, should know: I really don't agree with you.) I don't know, this fairy cloud that it feels like, the burning question of then what, after uni, that I'd stutter and stumble to answer. By the end of the week I am going to have to give myself an anwer.
And I'm seriously thinking of going to Australia, next year. The reason I have fought so hard against it so far is that I don't want to have it forced down my throat, it's little more than a gag reflex and the fear that one concession will see me headed in a direction I have not really thought through. But okay, Yes I have an Australian PR, Yes I have a house in Melbourne and a sister in Sydney, and parents who will be leaving this Thursday to check out said house and make it liveable. Said house is next to a platypus conservation park, or something like that, which is a funny though, I cannot imagine. I cannot imagine living there, but I cannot imagine living here, either, after family has gone. Already it dominates conversations and considerations, already there is a bitterness at the second generation's stubborn refusal to trot down there like good filial children, already the physical home I have around me collapses into boxes sealed with duct tape and labelled for Melbourne, Victoria, Australia.
There is only so much says:
but they're going off for a week
There is only so much says:
they're taping up the stuff in my house now
new york, new york says:
:|
new york, new york says:
this doesnt sound real
new york, new york says:
NOOO ELLA
im going to tie u to the tree in ur frontyard
new york, new york says:
do u have a tree in ur frontyard i can tie u to?
This was very amusing. Sigh, oh well, and love <3
I hope I will do all the things I have wanted to do, next year. Because it is an opportunity like no other, and also because the lolling around for 8 months straight will kill me with a boredom that I might not even be able to muster up enough energy to dispel.
Saturday, September 30, 2006 // 11:20 PM
What I Am Looking Forward To At The End of The Year:
I know this is obvious, recurrent: I am looking forward to the end of the A's. This is strange to realise, but I haven't really been looking forward to it, lately, because when I think about that time of my life I can't stop thinking about the I Don't Know What To Do With Myself -ness that I can't help but anticipate, right now. Because I really do think I am going to feel like crap, overwhelmed with purposelessness. Thinking about it now, thinking about how everyone is looking forward to December and Yf camp and everything so much, gives me some sort of hope that I may feel differently, I desperately hope to, I desperately want to. To not be alone in myself, to not be stuck in my own mind, to not feel so incapable of being happy.
I do know why, it is because studying for me is an exercise in the expansion of my mind, because 1) I really do like the things I am studying; It's not just book grubbing or memory work, part of me likes this and that part has been encouraged to articulate and assert itself, to want more than the simple things, to have ambitions. Part of me is fundamentally changd by what I am studying, intellect and academia and etc etc etc. I, some part of me hates this. The rest of me shrugs shoulders and thinks well it's just another way to be, it's just the way I am. And I don't know what to think, after that. And 2), I feel like I have let loose just about all the relationships I have, and they spread and stray from me, like a palmful of sand in the wind. Going everywhere, how can I possibly come back after these months and say hello, how are you, and get to know you, all over again? It feels strange, this entire process has felt strange, and selfish, and... And I just don't know what to do with myself. Because it feels like I don't know myself, anymore.
How my School/Physical/Spiritual etc life has been lately:
School, prelims, work, is bad, or just Not Good Enough. I'm sorry for saying this on so many counts, but I'm not happy with myself. There is anxiety, there is the aftermath of anxiety which has been whitewashed over to result in a great swath of I-Don't-Care-ness.
And I'm becoming a snob, slowly and surely, watch me. Like I know better, like I've gone around and seen the world and you loser singaporean are living in darkness when theres so much more out there , to quote Marvin's elaborations. Feels like steps in that direction, I can feel it and I hate it but I really don't know what to do about it, it is the flipside of the coin to a lot of ways in which I am going. Some part of me already feels tired about having to defend myself, but yet another part of me cannot accept going back and pretending that I have not been challenged to be different from what I have always been.
What I've been thinking about, instead: going overseas to study, being an adult from the end of this year on (maybe, because it feels like it will be required of me), living alone and being alone likely more alone than I've ever been before, migrating to Australia forever, losing touch with people who have made me feel loved and happy and a sort of meaning about my life. Also, being utterly bored, intensely so, meaningless and empty and antisocial as heck; undrammatically, which somehow makes it worse. Also, money, and doing law, and the banality of everything now. This week felt too much like it could last forever, this state of arid mundanity, in my head. This week I said the words lonely, to Elgina, and bored; Actually I said the latter one over and over and over again, smooshing my face into the table at venezia's in a very unglamorous sort of way, while Xinyi took pictures and bought me ice cream. I want to do something, but something that will involve me, absorb me, completely. I want to get out of my mind.
I have no peace of mind, which may or may not have anything to do with my studying. When I have peace of mind, I am a lot less irritable, and it seems I've been feeling nothing but irritation, lately.
And God, God arches over my head, sometimes, it is not that God is irrelevant. It is just that more and more I am seeing how pressing how consequential the Here And Now is, and. And I wish, I wish for faith again, because it changes your perspective, it revolutionalizes your life, or it can, I know it would if I would stop fighting it, because it has before. There is just a better way to be.
Anything:
I learnt to play the bongos, today, I learnt rhythm and was happy with my musicians. The guys played WWF after that, marking out the ring with slippers and trying like heck to push each other out of the boundary, grunting sweating laughing getting bruised and shoved all over the place. Five guys and the most friendly, happily neanderthal thing I have ever seen, but it was amusing. To do stupid stuff, to be twelve year olds again, unabashed.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006 // 2:23 AM
Today was fun, in a very mundane, teenager-ish sort of way. Driving down to the airport in Alethia's van to see Kinyip off, and back down again, with the radio playing, Alethia's week-old driving. The van you could store with equipment at the back, big enough for band equipment, drums and amps and wired up guitars. I like the homely touches, the carpet on the floor, the Ikea cushions, how we aren't allowed to wear our shoes inside. Though at first I felt like cargo, or some animal being spirited away to a quick demise.
Kinyip in his penguin suit, Terence and his retard sense of humour, his Tracie the Triceratops. Me and my lousy banana chocolate muffin, that I will sing to, instead of eating, stick my nose into the warm white paper bag. Laugh and talk about everything, nothing; I want to stand there in front of the information board and watch the panels flip. Philadelphia, Bahrain, Shanfhai instead of Shanghai.
I feel like a child, grabbing greedily at these moments and feeling the need to store them up. As if for winter.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006 // 12:51 AM
Engineers' Corner
by Wendy Cope
Why isn't there an Engineers' Corner in Westminster Abbey? In Britain we've always made more fuss of a ballad than a blueprint ... How many schoolchildren dream of becoming great engineers?
-- advertisement placed in The Times by the Engineering Council
We make more fuss of ballads than of blueprints --
That's why so many poets end up rich,
While engineers scrape by in cheerless garrets.
Who needs a bridge or dam? Who needs a ditch?
Whereas the person who can write a sonnet
Has got it made. It's always been the way,
For everybody knows that we need poems
And everybody reads them every day.
Yes, life is hard if you choose engineering --
You're sure to need another job as well;
You'll have to plan your projects in the evenings
Instead of going out. It must be hell.
While well-heeled poets ride around in Daimlers,
You'll burn the midnight oil to earn a crust,
With no hope of a statue in the Abbey,
With no hope, even, of a modest bust.
No wonder small boys dream of writing couplets
And spurn the bike, the lorry and the train.
There's far too much encouragement for poets --
That's why this country's going down the drain.
--
This is dedicated to my S Lit exam, tomorrow. Because you are the last of your kind in more ways than one and I hope to end you with a flourish, even though I have done no work and have not really switched my comic reading to something more creditable and therefore might justly deserve to get another Borderline Pass. Save me, PC, but I can't say save me, Shakeapeare, because I can no longer remember anything from Othello or Macbeth or even Hamlet that I could meaningfully spin into a couple of pages. But anyway. Academia needs a sense of fun, and a childlike wonder, it occurs to me that the poems I've read today are are rather straightforward, and something tells me the the Brits marking my papers are going to want something more abstract, something more acclaimed and canonnized.
Today I thought, friend. I forget, remind me, sometimes, that that is your name.
Sunday, September 24, 2006 // 9:31 PM
all walls are great if the roof doesn't fall says:
why are you perpetually in such a good mood?
all walls are great if the roof doesn't fall says:
its quite amazing
your huckleberry friend says:
because bad moods dont help a thing
your huckleberry friend says:
and mood swings get you dizzy
all walls are great if the roof doesn't fall says:
hurhur
all walls are great if the roof doesn't fall says:
how very practical
your huckleberry friend says:
practical and happy is better than indulgent and suicidal :)
I think, in the past weeks, the stress has gotten to me, without my knowing it. Even though I haven't been anxious-neurotic, I have been a lot of other things. I would like to say I have not been myself, I want to say, to believe, that much.
And I don't want to be cynical. You choose the attitude you bring with you when you go about things, and. And I think something I've lately come to forget is that I want ot be happy. I want to remember this, hold it in my hands, even as I go back into this hole of studying. Stay, this burst of clarity, this moment of something-like-optimism.
"...many books
Wise men have said are wearisome; who reads
Incessantly, and to his reading brings not
A spirit of judgement equal or superior,
(And what he brings, what needs he elsewhere seek)
Uncertain and unsettled still remains,
Deep-versed in books and shallow in himself."
-Paradise Regained, John Milton
Today walking home I thought about the simple things. Which is what I have, from today, which is what I hold in my hands, hold to my heart; if anything could ever be this good forever. I hate to say that, but I can't squish the sinking feeling.
// 1:21 AM
Truce
What do I do. At the end of the day, let me put down this bitterness; When I made the decision I did, I believed it, but that was passion, emotion, the moment. Which I can't be sorry for because I will always be subject to it. But, but one thing I do know: I don't want to be a child anymore.
I just said to Kinyip, love is all you need.
Saturday, September 23, 2006 // 3:05 AM
What I Think
I don't know what I think. It is strange to sit here at the end of the day and wonder about whether or not I had a good time. Or rather, I did have a good time, because I did so many good-time things, but. But I don't know, I feel out of place, or I feel like something is missing, a hole in an important place, at the end of the day, in the centre of me. Just because I can do these things, just because they are options to me; You know some part of me is thankful that I have friends with whom to ever so happily pass the time. And I have nothing to complain about, but. But there's still a but at the end of the sentence, there's still a but in the aftermath of all this carefree conversation.
Fundamentally, I am a serious person. I don't think there's any way to run away from that, despite that I honestly do believe in fun. But right now (and not Thursday when prelims ended) I want to be quiet, right now I want to watch a quiet sort of movie, want to take a long bus ride with my music for company, want to go driving (be driven) at 3 am in the morning down long and empty roads with the windows down, want to talk to one person instead of ten. Even five is too many when I feel like things are only half said; it is not that I grudge your company, it is just: how hollow I feel right now, how very unknown, anonymous. The smaller groups are the ones I want, the ones I crave for, the ones where we don't feel the need to be constantly entertained or laughing at something. Though that much may come. The closest thing I had to that sort of honesty today was three minutes on the bus with Terence. And an sms that I've yet to send to Grace.
I feel like I have grown older, in the last few months. Having ambitions that bring me beyond all this, have responsibilities and a very real sort of consequence that I cannot run away from, having to make my own decisions and take an active control of my life; instead of feeling things slip by like the days are nothing but ordinary singular days. I don't know, I'm not sure if I can live like that anymore, maybe next year, when there really is no more consequence, that I am held accountable to. The things I have learnt, these last few months, I don't want to let go of them, I want to remember so that they will not be lessons I have to learn again. Things like being responsible, things like being steady, sensible, sane, less motivated by insecurity or insanity. On average, I get more sleep during the exam week than I do during the heady social high that follows it, and I don't know if this is a good or bad thing. I am just tired, right now, a little too tired to live up to the bright colours I still wear, a little too tired to be the friendly and the funny and the enthusiastic that I might normally be. More than anything right now I want to be mellow; I want to sit in my concentration cell in church with the lights off and my soft music playing; I want to sit someone down across me, to talk to me; Someone who can be honest, someone who wouldn't feel the need to say something, all the time, fill the air with a copious conversation. Terence, Marcus; Marvin, Nick Wong, Sebbie, sometimes; Most other people, in that once in a blue moon, because I just don't think people would want to have these conversations, with me. It's the way I feel after service when the lights have gone off and I creep up to the piano and play, song after song, while everyone else is socialising. In so many ways I've grown older, and mellowed, and all I want is an undramatic slice of peace and quiet.
So I came home in a cloud of cigarette smoke and shivering from the night, and I'm confronted by the mess that needs to be sorted out, the one that I literally step all over every morning groggy with sleep, dragging myself to the bathroom to wake myself up. Spiders have spun their webs in the corners of my sink, I stare at them while I'm brushing my teeth; There are endless loads of laundry to do, things to clean and organizing that has to be done. Here is a piece of news that I will not forget: I need to study for my A levels, and desperately, because I know very well how much I have not done, how little I have cared for this bout of exams, after the initial weekly panic attacks after the first decision to study. I know Xinyi will think I am crazy and tell me to take a break after the prelims, but this is really not what I think, anymore; we are not on the same page, and our yardsticks are different, right now. And breaks, the kind I want, are not the sort that leave me feeling empty, at the end of the day. This entire process has left me more tired than you know.
What I want to do, I want to wake up tomorrow morning and just lie there, listening to Sufjan Stevens, or KOC, or Sting. I want to eat something nice for lunch with someone who might understand, or who would at least not make me feel like I had to say so many things. I want to watch a good movie. And I can think of a few, right now. I want to watch a seriously good movie, not just something good enough to pay eight dollars for, not just something you'd watch as a sort of social event. Another time, maybe, when I have time to spare, another time when I can afford the peace of mind that fun forfeits, but I think right now I really do need a break, I need to relax in a way that would be relaxing, for me. Which inevitably means therapeutic, slow, quiet, soundless.
I think I should spend my Monday entirely alone, or at least quietly.
Thursday, September 21, 2006 // 9:09 PM
NICK [Calla en el dia canta en la noche] says:
i was distracted by his long nose i think
NICK [Calla en el dia canta en la noche] says:
threatening to poke out of the screen
NICK [Calla en el dia canta en la noche] says:
i don't htink he's hot
NICK [Calla en el dia canta en la noche] says:
i think he looks funny
NICK [Calla en el dia canta en la noche] says:
like a big bird released from a cage
Poet extraordinaire, on Adrien Brody. hurhurhur.
howeth canneth that beith? says:
i have too much of the milk of human kindness
your huckleberry friend says:
oh
your huckleberry friend says:
that rancid thing
your huckleberry friend says:
that i threw out when i joined the ac family :D
Today has been a really good day. I can't wait to watch another good movie.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006 // 11:43 PM
Today Marvin said apprecite us soldiers you girl-folk!, and I thought about how I'm such a conservative at heart, really. For all the femanazi noise I make, lately all I've wanted to do is sit down and shut up because I am sick of trying to decipher. Woman with brain is like donkey with violin can be true sometimes, because of what brain connotates: academia and intellect are so screwed up sometimes. Though not limited to woman, because I know more guys than girls who would prefer to take things simply. Someone dictate truth to me, please.
And the more contact I have with America-anything, the less I want to go there. Oh help me, please, or let me be ever so wrong about the impression I can't help getting. But the manic hysterical soul-selling to liberalism is definitely going to piss me off. Or buy me over, sigh, what am I doing, again.
I'm talking to Nick Wong about his winning some poetry competition, but I should be reading about the philosophy of history right now; I wish there was a way to say that entire sentence without sounding so pretentious, in all the ways there are, to be pretentious. Kevin oh pleased me when I told him about my having to read about the philosophy of history, and I don't blame him, because I would give the same disdain. But this really is interesting, because it is written in a very engaging way. Carr and his metaphors aplenty:
"This was the age of innocence, and historians walked in the Garden of Eden, without a scrap of philosophy to cover them, naked and unashamed before the god of history. Since then, we have known Sin and experienced a Fall; and those historians who today pretend to dispense with a philosophy of history are merely trying, vainly and self-consciously, like members of a nudist colony, to recreate the Garden of Eden in their garden suburb. Today the awkward question can no longer be evaded."
-EH Carr's What is History?
I can hear Kenneth in my head deriding some Lit commentary he read for being obscurantist. And I laugh, at the irony: obscur-what?
Tuesday, September 19, 2006 // 11:14 PM
And it has not taken long, to breed this new cutting edge in your voice, that begs reciprocation. Just a minute, while I try to fight the welling up of poison, on the inside of me, while I attempt to convince myself against sinking to your level, while I tell myself that I don't have to bare my claws to prove that I have them. This is not the kind of company I want to be with, want to be.
And my studies are just about the least real thing to me right now. Even after the hollowing out leaves me in the vacant space where people once filled, academia seems a sad and sorry sort of compensation.
Today the guys talked a distraction over my head, and I can't decide if I miss this or not, I don't know how to react. I think I do, because these are people I have spent much happiness with, because my picture up on the wall seems to confirm, entrench me there, and the conditions seem so very familiar, close to what comfortable has been for the past years. And yet I can't help looking at things, at myself, with new eyes, I can't help, even amidst the laughter they can casually evoke, the sneaking feeling of let's see how long this happy feeling lasts. And it is strange, that thought itself is strange, I have become ever cynical yes, but I can't help wondering if it goes beyond that, if I have really irrevocably outgrown this entire outfit, this innocence, this simplicity. Yet some part of me knows that people aren't dispensable like that, convenient like that; But it takes two people to make a friendship, and maybe the closeness is what I haven't been, lately, being so caught up with my studying. So, so if I sat you down and tried to explain to you, what's been on my mind, lately, would you understand? Would you, for the sake of friendship that have been brief, really, try? There really is no right answer to that, and to some extent I am afraid to even ask. To confirm how out of place I have been feeling, lately.
And this is perhaps a taste of what distance and time will do to us, the lack of communication, the moving on of lives, the diminishing of you and me on each other's emotional landscape.
Monday, September 18, 2006 // 10:10 PM
I don't want to be Psychotic Bitch From Hell. I heard it on Mike's CD today, and it made me laugh. It also makes me realise how close I can come to being someone I despise.
I want to be healthy, good for you, that. That feels like a long time ago, even wanting that much. I haven't been comfortable in a long long time, at ease, laid back. Though I sat outside the clubhouse Sunday evening, with Marcus Terence and Kinyip, and that came close.
Nowhere feels like home, where are the friends I've held so dear. Studying, I feel like; Life is a distraction, right now. It occurs to me that you can't put relationships down and hope to pick them up again later.
Today David said why, and the conversation moved on, but it's been on my mind: I don't know what I am doing. So, so very well, the studying is one thing, but the hoping is another, and is the one that needs to be picked apart, before I make the biggest mistake of my life, not by virtue of What I Do, but by virtue of How I Go About It. Barelling into things, because I don't know what else to want, because I don't know what else to hope for. Because time insists to me that it is running out.
howeth canneth that beith? says:
does that mean ytou've done nothing since 940?
mongolia love; says:
err
mongolia love; says:
well
mongolia love; says:
ive mended my soul
My mind's wasted where literary analysis is called for, I have a very sharp Shut Down Point where it comes to Lit. I'm unhappy because it's Lit I'm screwing up, unless. Unless I wake up tomorrow with the most splendid clarity, which is still possible, and PC my way through 3 Contexts.
mongolia love; says:
sigh
mongolia love; says:
blake shits
howeth canneth that beith? says:
hurhur
howeth canneth that beith? says:
me too
Goodnight.
Sunday, September 17, 2006 // 9:37 PM
The Last Three Days
oneFlipped over the handlebars of Joe Tee's bike, which was a really cool experience, in a strange way. Sitting there with my throbbing knee and the blood and Christl's areyouokayareyouokayareyouokay. And Edric's uh don't tell them horh, if it's too dangerous they'll cancel it.
two Sebbie's Dude you're lying on some rice and Terence's infuriated Dude you threw the rice! hurhur. I like throwing things around, and the mess it makes; I'm amused that I hang out with people who actually say dude. And I've realised I actually like this menial mindless little tasks, because of an easy come sense of achievement, because of a really therapetuc simplicity.
three Going happy crazy up on the rooftop garden on Saturday, flinging my wet plastic sheets around at Jkhoo and Kinyip, the do you think this lift is soundproof, the listen to the rhythm of the falling rain, the let's send all this trash down in the lift and see how they react. I haven't screamed or laughed or sang or been so utterly high like that in ages.
four Suddenly found myself in this missions interest meeting today, and meeting people who have actually been doing things in the rest of the world for their faith. I am half amazed, and yet not, because this is a normal sort of everyday, to them, and that rubs off on me; but I'm definately interested, and not just from today, though it was really something looking around the room and hearing these people talk in their matter-of-fact way about the work towards such a massive cause. I don't know what exactly I will do next year, but I will definately do something.
five Looked through Grace's Israel/Turkey photos, with her running commentary, and am utterly fascinated, utterly determined to get myself there. Because the the ruins and their gorgeousness, the remnants of an ancient civilisation, they intrigue me to no end, even without the fact that it would give an entire new context to the stories in the new testament. One more thing I desperately want to do next year.
six Sneaked into the Sanctuary to play the piano, and Caitlyn kept coming up with random adults to bang on the upper register, and recognized me during the meeting later from that moment. I feel like a piano hog, because I lingered just one song too long, and Lois waited patiently at the side. And I talked to Titus who said he'd show me the Jazz Pubs next year, and I really like the idea of having friends who'd also be interested in learning more instruments.
seven I need to work harder to keep my unsympathetic mouth shut. What I have to say needs to be put into a kinder sort of conversation.
eight And in true fasion, absolutely no work done the last three days, and all momentum lost. Positively, I am asking for it.
Friday, September 15, 2006 // 11:55 PM
How about getting off of these antibiotics?
How about stopping eating when I'm full up?
How about them transparent dangling carrots?
How about that ever elusive kudo?
How about me not blaming you for everything?
How about me enjoying the moment for once?
How about how good it feels to finally forgive you?
How about grieving it all one at a time?
Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence
How about no longer being masochistic?
How about remembering your divinity?
How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out?
How about not equating death with stopping?
Thank you India
Thank you providence
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you nothingness
Thank you clarity
Thank you thank you silence
-Thank You, Alanis Morrisette (incomplete)
Thursday, September 14, 2006 // 10:59 PM
I feel sane, this is precious. Maybe it's the fact that History and Lit have been good, that's made me feel somewhat less anxious. And the disasters of Monday and Tuesday have receded in my mind.
And I'm considering with newfound clarity what I have been and what I have done, the kind of person I have let myself be, lately. I'm left with the realisation of I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself; Some part of me wants to learn a lesson but there is. Something futile inside, I don't know.
I feel a bit stoical, like I am skirting around things, I don't know if that is a bad thing. There is so much I want to say but. But no words to contain them, no one to say it to. So, So I don't know, maybe I should just sit still and say nothing, and keep my thoughts in control.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006 // 10:48 PM
I want to pray, and I want this to be over, because. That prayer meeting was the calmest one and a half hours I've felt in a long time, because it is an entirely different universe for what I have signed myself up for here, and it is one I prefer, because it is real, because it means something. And I long to be so different from what I am now, wrapped up like a child, like the centre of the universe. And I know not too long ago I was so convinced of this need to grow up but now somehow it looks like I have forgotten, all over again; how I have wanted to be responsible, how I have wanted to leaves my childish ways behind.
That day I admitted to Selena that ordinarily I would be able to work things out, in a very common-sense sort of way, but for the times when I am less than stable, I start spouting all sort of cryptic ramblings and then go on to believe them. Right now I would like to say all that was bullshit, I would like to say I have learnt my lesson, but I know that from the inside of things I change and forget and am so utterly convinced of things that maybe, I should just dismiss as the mad ramblings of my hysterical mind. I wish I didn't feel like such a basket case, I wish it didn't make such good sense to me. From the inside of those moments. For now I need more bimbotic or therapeutic things to do, or vents and wastes of time that are somewhat more innocuous.
And I'm an abusive friend; and I hate the idea that you're irrevocably pissed at me. The more I think about it the more complicated it becomes, but also the more I realise how accurate what you said of me was. I don't mean to be cold, but I can only say that I'm sorry that you're so very right.
Sunday, September 10, 2006 // 1:18 AM
kev says:
and shit lah i think i wont marry an mg girl anymore
kev says:
actually no just an sc girl
kev says:
THEY DONT GROW OUT OF IT
kev says:
THATS WHAT I REALISED
kev says:
TONIGHT
kev says:
omg
kev says:
*giggle giggle*
kev says:
its awesome when you're sixteen
kev says:
and wearing cool sailor uniforms
kev says:
but at fourty its ugh
I realised, when I said the words to Sam over the phone, that Kevin is an intellectual bimbo. He would never in a million years admit this.
I want to be smart and sane, but I don't think I ever will be, somehow. Screw my head on right.
Friday, September 08, 2006 // 9:48 PM
I want uncomplicated
Today I sat on the bus and felt at peace with myself.
I don't care about prelims anymore. If Xinyi is right, that means that I'm going to get knocked off my feet by a massive panic attack, in a few days.
I am alive, this is home, this is the only home I know. I want this time of my life to be over so that I can go back to being a person that I can respect. Which begs the question, why am I doing what I am doing, right now. I wish I didn't feel so utterly alone; in many ways I know good and well that I am not.
I agree that I Think Too Much, but I don't know how to stop it. I should hang out with the guys more, maybe, because things are simple in that world. Let's play soccer, let's go climb Mount Ophir after the A's. I miss that. I wish I could be laid-back, the way Charmaine is laid-back, unanxious. Or at least, not bowled over by anxiety, uptight to the point of manic paranoia.
I read some article today about how during puberty, your brain makes all sorts of new connections and then after that gets rid of the excess ones for a more efficient brain. I think the phrase the lady used was 'swimming in their hormones'. It's a terrible cliche and it amuses me, but. But I wish that wasn't exactly how I feel.
But I am too old for this, or not really, or I can't wait to be too old for this. To grow out of it. I want to believe that it is grow-outable, I welcome the psychoanalytical breakdown of my hysteria.
Who can I call, I am not going crazy. Fong just dumped me for a Channel 8 drama serial. I don't want to study, but I should stop thinking now.
Thursday, September 07, 2006 // 1:27 AM
Today Selena said to me, there is a reality outside our heads that we all must engage with. Which made me think about how I haven't thought about my being crazy in a long time. But after all that worrying I think the least I can do is try to put my feet back on the ground, again.
I'm happy, and feeling stable, at least right now. It's a gorgeous night out, and Charmaine is nice to talk to. After a hours of nagging insecurity, of all these inadequacy attacks, as Marvin once termed them. I'm happy enough to be at the end of the day, and feeling like I can actually breathe.
JobanG says:
you are unbelievably lazy
come on and save me says:
i am unbelievably efficient
come on and save me says:
laziness breeds innovation
I'm thinking about lunch, tomorrow, and the new lows represented by my doing laundry at two in the morning four days after I'm supposed to. The simple things are the only ones useful for preserving my sanity.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006 // 2:31 AM
Ecclesiastes 11:7-12:8
(Remember Your Creator While Young)
7 Light is sweet,
and it pleases the eyes to see the sun.
8 However many years a man may live,
let him enjoy them all.
But let him remember the days of darkness,
for they will be many.
Everything to come is meaningless.
9 Be happy, young man, while you are young,
and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth.
Follow the ways of your heart
and whatever your eyes see,
but know that for all these things
God will bring you to judgment.
10 So then, banish anxiety from your heart
and cast off the troubles of your body,
for youth and vigor are meaningless.
1 Remember your Creator
in the days of your youth,
before the days of trouble come
and the years approach when you will say,
"I find no pleasure in them"-
2 before the sun and the light
and the moon and the stars grow dark,
and the clouds return after the rain;
3 when the keepers of the house tremble,
and the strong men stoop,
when the grinders cease because they are few,
and those looking through the windows grow dim;
4 when the doors to the street are closed
and the sound of grinding fades;
when men rise up at the sound of birds,
but all their songs grow faint;
5 when men are afraid of heights
and of dangers in the streets;
when the almond tree blossoms
and the grasshopper drags himself along
and desire no longer is stirred.
Then man goes to his eternal home
and mourners go about the streets.
6 Remember him—before the silver cord is severed,
or the golden bowl is broken;
before the pitcher is shattered at the spring,
or the wheel broken at the well,
7 and the dust returns to the ground it came from,
and the spirit returns to God who gave it.
8 "Meaningless! Meaningless!" says the Teacher.
"Everything is meaningless!"
---
Kevin thinks I should go to brown because all they care about is drink drugs and the opposite sex, but at least they have a philosophy for it.
// 2:07 AM
pet pug
new york, new york says:
then i will slack!
wah, close to you says:
nOH
wah, close to you says:
YOU WILL DO WORK
wah, close to you says:
JA?
I think. Thinking has not been the best of ideas, lately, when I've been under the influence of stress, when I've been just too charmed to see things straight. All the complicated question I suddenly feel compelled to ask myself, to answer to myself, I don't know. That day cindy said struggling to find their identity, and maybe this is all it is, at the end of the day, all this needing to believe, all this pugilistic ambivalence.
I think. I think I want to go back to being a dreamer now, ambitions and all, I don't know where they fit in with me. In a lot of ways this means claiming back my some sort of idealism, some sort of hoping, allowing myself to be starry-eyed and in a great sense of things irrational, or at least less militantly rational. I feel the weight of expectation reaching out to me, but maybe I've forgotten that I am still hopelessly, hopelessly young, in some ways, in very many ways. So the cynicism is a waste of time, when things else would resonate so much more strongly with me. To milk my youth for all it's worth, to be girls just wanna have fun, to want to be more happy than sad or ambivalent or out of control.
So maybe, maybe I'm just tired of fighting, like a drowning man (woman), like a wartime society, like some an irksomely bow-tied pet pug. But, yet I do, still, yet I compose myself like a piece of prose, like I am having my portrait painted, the unwinding does not come unprovoked, or perhaps I am just not tired enough to lapse back into comfort, to call the truce and put the navy back into cold storage where it belongs. I wish. I wish there was a way to stave off the emptiness, without the nagging sense that you've just told yourself the biggest lie in the world. Someday, someday very soon in fact, I know I will have to answer to others but more troublingly and more inescapably, to myself, for all the things that I have said.
I went for drinks, with the guys, hung out talking about nothing like I haven't in a long time, this feels. Familiar and strange and comfortable and awkward and. And I don't know. I listened to my own laughter today, warm and clear and heartfelt, and I don't know if this is me, I don't know whether it matters. I've been pissed off with myself for the way I have been, lately, all this smarmy satisfaction, I've been alone and untended inside myself and maybe this is why I feel this need to defend myself. I know I've been cold, and proud, and irritable as hell, every single day this week. In some ways I've come to see who are the friends who still stick around, at times like this, when I just bloody can't be bothered, because I am too confused with myself to see beyond it. Some day, I think I will be sorry for having let myself get so wrapped up in the selfishness of my ambitions, but if nothing else. I know enough to close myself up like a fan, which can be both a good or bad thing.
One thing I have missed, that I hadn't realised I had missed: the utter lack of pretensions. When all I have been is morose and brooding and what is, what am, lately. This is a sort of reprieve. I don't know if I can go back to being this, but I have a feeling whatever happens I will end up surprising myself. Even if it is by being utterly predictable. So. So give me honesty, I ache for something genuine, or. Or I want to be held and told that it is okay, to put down my fists and give myself away. I'm not even sure if I could manage that.
Am I supposed to respond, to over-react, to fight. I'm not having this conversation, it would be childish on my part any way I went about it, because you don't have anything to prove to me, and vice versa. So do what you will, bitch and throw things at me, because you should know, I have needed it like you must, now, and both you and I are too old to be thinking that we are beyond reproach, even if we will act like it, a lot of the time. And cynically speaking: sometimes that's exactly what relationships are made of, the shit swallowing, the tantrums and insensitivity, the murderous comparisons. Bouts of happiness and irrationality and I'm never going to talk to you again. You are inside yours as much as I am inside mine.
Saturday, September 02, 2006 // 11:58 PM
Samantha: im dead :D
but pretending that im not
This is a good description.
I hate what I can very accurately infer about myself right now. There is a lot of truth I cannot help but face, but would rather sweep under the rug, because it would help me feel better about myself. But I can't stop thinking about it and I can't stop watching myself, and the way I go back and forth with people. Sometimes it sickens me so thoroughly to be so utterly ingenuine.
I'm sad now, thinking about you, tell me if this is all in my mind, tell me if all this guilt and sorrow and moonshine is for an absolute nothing. I don't know what to think, but I do know that I cannot be the same way I was before, because I have changed and fundamentally changed and how do I even begin to articulate that even at the end of the day I still do care about you, for whatever it is you are and are not, that I know nothing about. Something inside me won't say a word.
And now I see why, people can bend and fold like flowers in the wind, abandon all cynicism and hard-wired rationality to receive softness. You would do anything to hold love in your hands. -7.25am, 22nd August 2006
// 12:10 AM
insecure
even though i can work out in my head that this will be a strange time, that i am going to largely be unable to be myself, that things right now are not representative of the rest of my life, i can't stop worrying about it. because i've come to be very much of a people person, in the last two years, and the me, right now, i would never be able to recognize. self control and focus and all things utilitarian. i can't stop worrying about what this all means, i can't help feeling a despair that feels too much like standard teenage insecurity, thinking about all the careless laughter we do not have. and i think too much about what it means, and how all this while i am drunk on all the superficiality. but in moments like these i can't help the wave of desperation, i can't help the sneaking suspicion that this is all i have, that i am worth so much less, because i am not fully a part of your universe.
i don't know what to think about the now or about the past times of general happiness. i don't know why i feel the need to be convinced that one or the other is a lie.
and i also can't stop feeling stupid as i do about the way i have become, now, or more specifically, it makes me feel stupid thinking about why my philosophy about things have shifted as they have. because it makes me cringe to think that i could be this much predictable, this much cheapened and changeable, this much defined by external factors, and stupid factors, at that. i really don't want to bend and fold for the reasons that i suspect i may truly have, but i also don't think there's any point in fighting, denying things, because i am somehow convinced they will just beat around the bush and get me anyway. so i don't see a point in trying to control myself, but that doesn't mean i feel no shame, because i do, because at the end of the day it is just absolutely silly. i also kick myself over this because i have gone this road before and i am certain of a few things: firstly, that this is poison to anything that might otherwise have developed harmlessly, secondly, that i have an utter lack of self control, especially where these things are concerned. i can feel myself becoming wreckless, clarity and common sense out of the window. and so i can just see myself staking my soul to something that could be defeated so very swiftly, with a bit of objectivity. i can logically deduce that my emotion is going to drag me down the toilet bowl.
Friday, September 01, 2006 // 1:16 AM
i took a two hour journey home, gazing out the window of the bus. with world war one on my lap and all that time to think about absolutely nothing in particular. it's cold outside, i walked the long way home, in a strange way right now, i miss dennis.
there are quite a lot of people i miss, will come to miss. i think i'm going to miss shumay and co, gery and esther and classmates, even jo and gab who i hardly talk to, because they've been immensely fun to be with. i really want gery and esther to make it to oxford, i don't know why. i miss fong the way fong used to be, but that doesn't mean any less of love. in some senses, maybe it means more.
it isn't really a maudlin, gushy kind of miss, like the inside of a marshmallow. i just think of times before and conversations that have passed between us and want that much back, and not just because my life is supposed to be concerned with work, right now. it's like how i want to sit kevin down and talk to him, but when we actually do talk, it's rarely about anything much. every once in a while there's the tell me all your thoughts on God conversations, but most of the time it's hurhur stewpid i'm going to play mahjong now. but i liked what he said, that day, when i said i would rather spend time with people than books, and he said i would rather spend time with people who read books. kevin, like dennis, makes me feel like a kid, sometimes. kevin who calls me at all the wrong times (during lessons, for example), who mocks me with singlish, who answers my angsty-3-am-what-is-the-meaning-of-life questions with a 42, my little sugar plum, or something as cheerfully ridiculous. kevin who has a voice like melted butter, who brings out the bimbo in me despite being one of the most intelligent people i know, kevin who reminds me of calvin, and hobbes, from calvin and hobbes.
suzanne vega has the most gorgeous voice. i think my favourite moments of today were dinner and the ride home. <3 xinyi and the raffles city market place.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006 // 8:22 PM
ain't got no life, y'all says:
they eat chickens
muff says:
i eat chickens
ain't got no life, y'all says:
hurhur
muff says:
point is?
ain't got no life, y'all says:
you're meant for each other
muff says:
yeah
muff says:
we can go cook book shopping together
muff says:
the sales girl will be like "mister you can't bring that fox in here"
muff says:
and i'll say "i need a second opinion"
i'm happy today, having done no work, having exchanged words and laughter with various people. and i'm discovering, how good it feels to let things go, how much catharsis. i could sit here all night eating ben n jerry's and having mundane conversation about soduku and washing dishes.
forever, is one of those words i will consign to youth, and idealism. which i feel quickly slipping away.
i want to reduce you. to words, to functions, to a bunch of ideas. so that i can store you in my head, pay less attention to the subtleties; so that i can carry you around with me, put my hands on your skin and wish for warmth, comfort, wisdom, solid ground. some days i am sorry for not treating you like human being, but then, you know. the next day i do it all the same, all over again. what an endless tirade.
now i only think: i am glad you don't take me seriously, all the time. even when i sulk, and stamp my foot, and throw a melodramatic tantrum, i suppose i can be thankful that you do not indulge me. i see now how exasperating this can be, and also how unpleasant it would be to further encourage me to crawl into these holes in the ground, curl up with myself.
and i lapse into chinese, sometimes, in moments of familiarity, doing dishes with my mom for example. it's strange that something so somehow foriegn, confusing can come so naturally, close to home. it is strange the other way around, too.
i learnt about northern lights today. gorgeous thing.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006 // 10:55 PM
i'm determined not to be girlish, about this, i don't know why. it's been eating me all day.
hello, meet my chronic seriousness. this is why i really need to get out somewhere and have a night of good solid fun. before i think things to death, puncture a kidney. not that letting myself chill out might actually do anything constructive, to me.
i really hate this way to be.
don't let the bastards grind you down. says:
yes, bimbo kevin
kev says:
WHAT!
kev says:
which part of that was bimbo?
kev says:
HUH, MISS USA?
ella found out none too long ago that north america is usa. and canada.
<3
Monday, August 28, 2006 // 10:17 PM
i'm sitting here watching the screen roll as shumay rants about how terrible the film version of handmaid's was. hurhurhur.
me: i didn't run today! flabflabflabflab...
christl: but flab is attractive!
the more i study, the more i am overcome by the desire to do Incredibly Bimbotic Things.
--
and i'm sorry. it crossed my mind, today, the slow sheepishness, at the words floating to me from across the table, the sudden wanting to have done you better. to have been a better person, not just to you. i'm sorry because i haven't thought about you at all, all this while, becaues all this while i've only thought about me, me, me. and maybe, maybe. maybe you deserve better than that.
so maybe what i have needed is the space to step back, out of my own skin, to look at things for what they are, to wait for clarity, in the form of another perspective.
Sunday, August 27, 2006 // 9:28 PM
everyone loves amelia jane. says:
yeahh. they're going to be whiny. don't hit them on the head okay.
jeannette doesn't think i should be a psychologist.
i'm not unhappy, i can genuinely say that. so i should stop talking like i am. i've had a gloriously wasteful day. i've lost steam, and studied close-to-squat this entire week. today i played soduku, and a lot of piano, and sat around listening to music in the conc cells in church, with the lights out, trading barbs and guitar riffs with marcus. with marvin babbling half asleep, in the corner, hurhur.
my dear you've become. something i do.
today i choked back all the stuff that i felt had no place, in between us. wait a minute, let me forget, let me. let me try to feel absolutely nothing.
Saturday, August 26, 2006 // 12:32 AM
babble
it's not about pride, this time, it really isn't. it's about the entire fundamental issue: what is and why and how the heck can i possibly know. i was angry a while ago, i banged on my piano, i threw things around and felt, not reality sliding, but the whole damn world breaking into a mindless babbling. i'm sick of this, i'm sick of this, i hate this, i don't want to be here again. i just don't think i can handle it.
but now i'm just tired, i'm tired, i'm sick and tired of fighting. not that i have been fighting, but i just don't trust anymore, i just don't think truth will come in words, i'm sick of words and the endlessly trying to capture things in a jar. something we can brandish, something that we can impose.
i can't find still and unturning centre of things, i want. i want a cigarette because it would screw me up physically and give me a reason to stop thinking. i want to sit in the black of my room playing without you i am nothing. i feel the need to do this destructively, i feel the need to destroy people, to kick down worlds, to destroy myself. destroy myself so that when i heal, things would be coherent, an improvement. and i can say, well i've taken shit for it, well i've had enough. because i had enough a long time ago and i won't. i won't feel that way again.
dennis, in my head, cop out cop out cop out. we are older, we should know better; the excuses i gave i won't accept, for myself, anymore.
i can't believe beyond the chaos. how i want right now, to continue in this everyday-ness. not be challenged to think, because. because the intellectual process feels tedious and convoluted and endlessly endlessly. futile.
and the childishness, i can't stand it anymore. the preening and the pettiness and the giggling mundane stupidity. while i think i'm a terrible person, i also think: you're a terrible person. is this the norm, does it achieve nothing at all, for me to say, stop whingeing like a bloody two year old. i can't stand it. i can't stand your high maintainance, i can't stand my high maintainance, i want to shed myself like a skin. i can't stand all this hypocriscy and stupidity and complaining when we have nothing to complain about, we have nothing to complain about. does it occur to you to be thankful, that the world has never revolved around you? that your renouncing of reality is like your shaking your fists at a giant? how, how stupid, how absolutely braindead, of course you are the master of your own universe, of course no one tells you what to do.
i have only been able to mute all this in the process of the artificial exercise. wait, wait til the fuss dies down, and let me see if there is anything left. can someone tell me what the heck is true, anymore? not just a chasing after a wind, not just for tomorrow we die. because everytime i tread this line it springs back at me, and i pause, this time, i go right to the finish line, i assume that i have not grown, after all these years. after all these years, i want normalcy but that seems to involve the shutting down of my head and i would do it. i would do it because i want to be sane and i don't trust myself, i don't trust myself, to go it alone.
i need to stop thinking about this.
// 12:32 AM
babble
it's not about pride, this time, it really isn't. it's about the entire fundamental issue: what is and why and how the heck can i possibly know. i was angry a while ago, i banged on my piano, i threw things around and felt, not reality sliding, but the whole damn world breaking into a mindless babbling. i'm sick of this, i'm sick of this, i hate this, i don't want to be here again. i just don't think i can handle it.
but now i'm just tired, i'm tired, i'm sick and tired of fighting. not that i have been fighting, but i just don't trust anymore, i just don't think truth will come in words, i'm sick of words and the endlessly trying to capture things in a jar. something we can brandish, something that we can impose.
i can't find still and unturning centre of things, i want. i want a cigarette because it would screw me up physically and give me a reason to stop thinking. i want to sit in the black of my room playing without you i am nothing. i feel the need to do this destructively, i feel the need to destroy people, to kick down worlds, to destroy myself. destroy myself so that when i heal, things would be coherent, an improvement. and i can say, well i've taken shit for it, well i've had enough. because i had enough a long time ago and i won't. i won't feel that way again.
dennis, in my head, cop out cop out cop out. we are older, we should know better; the excuses i gave i won't accept, for myself, anymore.
i can't believe beyond the chaos. how i want right now, to continue in this everyday-ness. not be challenged to think, because. because the intellectual process feels tedious and convoluted and endlessly endlessly. futile.
and the childishness, i can't stand it anymore. the preening and the pettiness and the giggling mundane stupidity. while i think i'm a terrible person, i also think: you're a terrible person. is this the norm, does it achieve nothing at all, for me to say, stop whingeing like a bloody two year old. i can't stand it. i can't stand your high maintainance, i can't stand my high maintainance, i want to shed myself like a skin. i can't stand all this hypocriscy and stupidity and complaining when we have nothing to complain about, we have nothing to complain about. does it occur to you to be thankful, that the world has never revolved around you? that your renouncing of reality is like your shaking your fists at a giant? how, how stupid, how absolutely braindead, of course you are the master of your own universe, of course no one tells you what to do.
i have only been able to mute all this in the process of the artificial exercise. wait, wait til the fuss dies down, and let me see if there is anything left. can someone tell me what the heck is true, anymore? not just a chasing after a wind, not just for tomorrow we die. because everytime i tread this line it springs back at me, and i pause, this time, i go right to the finish line, i assume that i have not grown, after all these years. after all these years, i want normalcy but that seems to involve the shutting down of my head and i would do it. i would do it because i want to be sane and i don't trust myself, i don't trust myself, to go it alone.
i need to stop thinking about this.
