argh, can't stop thinking abt what wld happen if blogspot erased all my entries. it would have stolen all my memories, my writing. my human brain is severely limited, and without some place concrete ( lol, the internet is anything but concrete) to store everything, i can't remember stuff. important things.
i think i would cry, if my blog was erased.
i won't be able to look back at all my old entries and laugh along with myself or cringe at my naivety, but at the same time, feeling strangely protective, as if toward a younger sister.
i won't be able to savour the good pieces of writng i ripped off from others, some of the poetry really rocks, especially "Song" by Joel. and slashers by cassie claire.
I won't be able to reflect, in retrospect, on my own writing. How i came to write it, why i wrote it. even, trite as this sounds, how i felt.
I won't be able to recall all the tremendous fun i had this past yr. hwachongrocks.
I won't be able to.

hmm, wonder what would happen if blogspot crashed and erased all my entries.

 
anyway. not in school now, cos lessons have been cancelled due to 3/4 of the class having to go for some seminar. but whatever, promised to write out my econs notes in preparation of next week's test. lol, obviously am not doing that. reading tony harrison now, don't really get him, cos he's too euro-centric. the lingo he uses, eg ARV, fannies,desert rats,loiner. what the hell are those...sigh, too lazy to find out from mr perry, plus, he'll probably have to end up explaining the whole friggin book. suffice to say it's something abt war, i think...or sex, but the 2 are often confused.

The Bedbug

"Comrade, with your finger on the playback switch,
listen carefully to each love-moan,
and enter in the file which cry is real, and which
a mere performance for your microphone."

Tony Harrison

argh, am irritated with jonny. but i will try and maintain my position as one of the last few people who have not screamed at him. nuff of small irritants, everybody come for hcjc homecoming carnival!! have only manage to sell $5 worth if tix to qing. hopefully, brian can come and thus in doing so contribute to the "save ooitw's" money movement.
yay! hope the carnival will be a blast, though, arguably, the sch's not tt psyched up for it, not my class anyway. everyone's complaining abt how stupid it is, how the admin sux blah blah blah. seriously, why can't everyone just be enthusiastic abt it, since we keep complaining tt e sch's boring. major problem with some ppl is that when u give them what they ask for, they complain.

choosy.

want to write abt how certain ppl are bitching abt the new geog teacher, which is  absolutely disgusting thing (the bitching, not the teacher, surprisingly). it sounds petty in words, but those ppl are seriously kinda two-faced, esp ruimin (whom i've been (yay!) (brackets within brackets are damn funky! ok, sorry, digression)successfully trying to tolerate since jan) who's all funny and teasing during lessons, but bitches like ______(can't find a suitably acerbic simile - you get the point) when dear miss lim steps out. give her a break, she's doing her best, and it's not that bad anyway. though i might be speaking too early, since i have yet to be tested on anything she's taught us.

the full blow of how lousy my block tests results has finally hit me, after i received my lit results. miserly B (why?!?! am i condemned to B status forever?!?!) gahh. econs results are shit. math was shit too. geog, lol, duh, was shit too (damned physical geog).

overheard some seniors talking to barnard abt applying to study ppe/law/art/eng lit/other esoteric forms of academia usually unapplicable to a pragmatic life (except perhaps law n econs)  etc in cambridge/oxford/king;s college/london sch of econs (LSE)/brown's => uk
                        harvard/stanford/yale/nyu/usc/mit/columbia/cornell => us

evil clever ppl!!argh!! my parents have specified that if i can't get a scholarship overseas, then i'm not going...will have to suffer in NUS. not that it's sub-standard or anything academically speaking, to be fair,, it's just that it's going to be so boring..can u imagine, i'll be in s'pore forever. i know i wanna be in s'pore eventually n ultimately, but i wanna taste the otherside (whatever that is). can't belive i'm still figuring out trigo 3D. how the hell ami supposed to win a friggin scholarship if i'm struggling with such a puerile subject like maths?!?! lol, i have abt 9 more wks to redeem myself. sigh.

i always picture myself studying in some cool uk university (with victorian clock towers in the background, slightly ominously grey skies, juxtaposed against green lawns, my aging but still superbly brilliant and caustic professor beside my with a group of like-minded friends, all of us wrapped up in coats and other whatnots, we'll be planning to visit the graveyard at westminister abbey after classes, we'll ride our bikes there,and rest them by the tombstones of some long dead but not forgotten general and _____)

either the utopia above or this:

whirling fans in my small room at nus, where a lizard will be irritating me every night, i'll attend lectures held by 50  yr olds with unbelievably bad sense of humour, or in worse cases, none at all. there will be no wind, no lush lawns. i will arrange to meet my friends at the same old olace we go everyday -orchard road. we'll walk down the same streets that are changing every month, but bringing nothing new. our most exciting haunt will be some sad place like zouk. let's face it, we're geographically deprived. ah well, better prepare myself for nus.

horrors! it has suddenly struck me that nus is difficult to get into too!!!what the friggin hell would happen if i can't get in there?!?! omg, i think i'll just follow zarine's plan and spend all my money on cosmetic surgery and a one way ticket to harvard, where i'll hopefully meet some rich kid, marry him, kill him, inherit his money and repeat procedure with rich 99 yr old man.

gaahhhhh.what the hell am i talking about.
i'm gonna stop worrying and occupy myself with nice 16/17 yr old stuff.
i'm planning to dye my hair black! hurrah for this satorical revolution!!

Without You.Without you every morning would feel like going back to work after a holiday, Without you I couldn't stand the smell of the East Lancs Road, Without you ghost ferries would cross the Mersey manned by skeleton crews, Without you I'd probably feel happy and have more money and time and nothing to do with it, Without you I'd have to leave my stillborn poems on other people's doorsteps, wrapped in brown paper, Without you there'd never be sauce to put on sausage butties, Without you plastic flowers in shop windows would just be plastic flowers in shop windows, Without you I'd spend my summers picking morosley over the remains of train crashes, Without you white birds would wrench themselves free from my paintings and fly off dripping blood into the night, Without you green apples wouldn't taste greener, Without you Mothers wouldn't let their children play out after tea, Without you every musician in the world would forget how to play the blues, Without you Public Houses would be public again, Without you the Sunday Times colour suppliment would come out in black-and-white, Without you indifferent colonels would shrug their shoulders and press the button, Without you they's stop changing the flowers in Piccadilly Gardens, Without you Clark Kent would forget how to become Superman, Without you Sunshine Breakfast would only consist of Cornflakes, Without you there'd be no colour in Magic colouring books, Without you Mahler's 8th would only be performed by street musicians in derelict houses, Without you they'd forget to put the salt in every packet of crisps, Without you it would be an offence punishable by a fine of up to £200 or two months' imprisonment to be found in possession of curry powder, Without you riot police are massing in quiet sidestreets, Without you all streets would be one-way the other way, Without you there'd be no one to kiss goodnight when we quarrel, Without you the first martian to land would turn round and go away again, Without you they'd forget to change the weather, Without you blind men would sell unlucky heather, Without you there would beno landscapes/no stations/no housesno chipshops/no quiet villages/no seagullson beaches/no hopscotch on pavements/no night/no morning/there'd be no city no countryWithout you.

-adrian hendri

yay! something sweet and romantic....:P

damn stressed and tired out by the whole film thing. ok, time to (entitled to, anyway...humph, it IS my friggin blog) indulge in frivolous documentation of my current dermatological condition. face has erupted in pimples (2!!!) . this is an attestation to the pressure man! thank goodness it's not on my nose.  

anyway, saw fiona xie and this obscure boyband mamber yesterday. since both me n eric think she's chio, we followed her into the supermarket, until that pompous git of a guy (with token beng blonde mane and shades that were, ahem.."metrosexual") stared at us as if we were some autograph hungry groupies.ok, so eric was kinda starstruck, but not me! (on the defensive) fiona xie's not that gdlooking afterall, sans makeup n booby-enhancing clothes. anyway, i seem to vaguely recall seeing the toro guy's pic in sher's n xq's wallet, lol. time to feel embarressed abt lousy celebrity crushes...everyone should just stick to edison chen.
 
saw the two c-list media whores holding hands while weaving through the aisles of cold storage. duh. hasn't anyone told them that wearing shades indoors draws even more attn to them, and is terrible poseur behaviour.ok, so that was like the highlight of sunday.
 
am bored. have no scandalous crush to gush over.argh, have a warped idea of what you're supposed to do at 17. go be an UN embassador.

absurdly pissed. lost my temper at just abt everyone in the family. have half a mind to kick out two thirds of film soc. argh, irresponsible people who promised to turn up, but didn't.after we spent all the hours contacting everyone. argh. will have a serious talk with the whole wing soon.would openly kicking out someone be too cruel?some of them haven't even attended a single meeting since the begining.wasting everyone's time. argh. at least attendence was good for guides.*tongwei in BAD mood*

"One Last Breath"

Please come now I think I'm falling
I'm holding to all I think is safe
It seems I found the road to nowhere
And I'm trying to escape
I yelled back when I heard thunder
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

I'm looking down now that it's over
Reflecting on all of my mistakes
I thought I found the road to somewhere
Somewhere in His grace
I cried out heaven save me
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

Sad eyes follow me
But I still believe there's somthing left for me
So please come stay with me
'Cause I still believe there's something left for you and me
For you and me
For you and me

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking

Digital Delhi: Six Snapshots


1.

I give you truth, says the film-maker
At forty-four frames per second

The man on the pavement ignores him
It is not truth he is after — it is eternity

His delicate parrot steps across lines
Geometric patterns and numbers

In an abrupt flash, it finds the future
And hands it over to the film-maker

His face grows dark . . .



II.

On the next street, assiduous carpenters
Construct an elaborate cabinet of ebony

They work in the garden of a rich house
In the shade of a barren banana plant

A photograph of Rekha adorns the tree
The young men look up from time to time

At the fluttering actress and they know
It is not eternity they are after — it is love

The film-maker grins . . .



III.

When he goes back to Paris, he will buy
Brie and tangerines at the Arab store

He will bring a bottle up from the cellar
And after he has made a mess on the table

He will go down to the studio and call
Bernadette and as he hears her light voice

He will put his head down and cry
Because it is not love he wants — it is India

Her nakedness haunts him . . .



IV.

Most things happen in the open in India
Even if a professor chooses to tell you

About his project to calculate the weight
Of our galaxy, he does so walking through

Gardens where synthetic trouser-legs piss on
Kings, and the sky curves like a Lodi tomb

1044K is only the roughest estimate, he says
The dream of the perfect digit still lives on

In India, home of the zero . . .



V.

Nothing is hidden here — a woman bends
Over other people's clothing, exercising her

Breakable brown arms beside the solid bulk
Of a Maruti-Suzuki van whose golden sticker

Proclaims — Proud to be a Silicon Valley Indian!
Her antique steam-iron smooths every crease

As if her life depended on it — but it is not
The sheen of silk this woman craves — it is

A wide, wide, television set . . .



VI.

Just forty-fours hours in the threshold city 1
And the film-maker jettisons his camera

Because the truth flies in his face
Like that damned parrot! — Bernadette

Is no different from the woman armed
With a hot iron, and images collapse like

Galaxies in the urchin dust of Delhi's exposed
Alleyways — and it is not India that he has found

It is home . . .



prof nair is fantastic..really nice person. idiotic bernie was hogging her which resulted in my deprivation of alone time with her.argh. but nevermind, there's email. check out her orientation!hiaz, i've been wanting to go to india for really long now.should start planning, then can arrange a trip after A's. peeps, let's all go.

Keane - Can't Stop Now


I wish I had a Sylvia Plath
Busted tooth and a smile
And cigarette ashes in her drink
The kind that goes out and then sleeps for a week
The kind that goes out on her
To give me a reason, for well, I dunno
And maybe she'd take me to France
Or maybe to Spain and she'd ask me to dance
In a mansion on the top of a hill
She'd ash on the carpets
And slip me a pill
Then she'd get me pretty loaded on gin
And maybe she'd give me a bath
How I wish I had a Sylvia Plath
And she and I would sleep on a boat
And swim in the sea without clothes
With rain falling fast on the sea
While she was swimming away, she'd be winking at me
Telling me it would all be okay
Out on the horizon and fading away
And I'd swim to the boat and I'd laugh
I gotta get me a Sylvia Plath
And maybe she'd take me to France
Or maybe to Spain and she'd ask me to dance
In a mansion on the top of a hill
She'd ash on the carpets
And slip me a pill
Then she'd get me pretty loaded on gin
And maybe she'd give me a bath
How I wish I had a Sylvia Plath
I wish I had a Sylvia Plath

rright, postmortum visitations to long dead weirdos aside, my time is now split among film soc, sch work, reading, tv and the net, the last 2 of which i think i deserve copious amounts of. reading the unbearable lightness of being now, which is REALLY GOOD. once u unwrap it from its patina of eroticism(yeah, it's quite RA, even by my standards), you'll discover that kundera weaves so many things into his seemingly oblique narration of infidelity and the pointlessness of love. i love this:

"she yearned for the two of them to merge into a hermaphrodite. Then the other women's bodies would be their playthings."

is such intense jealousy possible? it transcends mere desire to cause the adultress physical hurt, but it invades and encroaches onto the most unexposed and personal arena. you only betray someone in order to betray someone else later on. let's say you betray A for B, but betraying B doesn't necessarily result in the appeasment of A.the point is betray everything, your friends, family, country...and if you've excelled enough and profitted sufficiently from all these past betrayals, you may reach the apex of nihilation, where you virtuously betray yourself and view it as a tour de force zenith of your life. do i have any idea of what i'm trying to say? not really,,,no...

spiderman/peter parker says that with great great power comes great responsibilty, and that sometimes, to do the right thing, you've got to give up the thing you want most, even your dream. what does it take for one to give up his dream? by dream, we define it here as most desireable ambition. can you replace your dream? if your dream stems from your ambition, and you are ambitious out of vanity, then your dream is nothing but a hedonistic onanism. clemency unto oneself ultimately destroys, or so that is what everyone says.

but what's wrong with loving yourself? nietzsche, ever the advocator of self-preservation, preaches that any reliogion founded on the concept of altruism (pity-put bluntly) is doomed. if one says that you have to love yourself before loving others, what is the impetus of loving urself?is it still not the desire to love others, that is, if you subscribe to this theology? therefore, do we forfeit self-gratification if we are to exist as caring human beings?

"suicidal dew flys forth into the burning cauldron of morning"
kill yourself in order to experience rebirth.haha...

had cap reunion today, which ended up kinda lame, cos no activities were really planned. the councillors' excuse was that the cappers were supposed to "connect by themselves", whatever that means.went home with xuan to spend quality time with family, instead of going to burgerking with the babirussas. i love those people, but spin the bottle is not my thing. (i have nothing particularly juicy to share,unlike a certain...um..alcoholic drink..lol)
speaking of that, had a great time at cine yesterday. it's been a really long time since the bunch of us hung out together. even though our topics of interests often deviate from each other, i'm consoled by the fact that the comfort level has not decimated or anything.so, kudos to the wonderful peeps, you know who you are, (it's so mushy to list u guys out, and in what order?alphabetical?sen's gonna feel super indignant..lol,kidding lah)

really happy in a strangely nonsensical way. it's most probably cos blocks are over. no, i think it's definitely cos of that. i promise to refrain from squandering my time by watching crap tv. any alternate activity would surely be more constructive, even writing in this blog. i've been recently thinking about writing a poem for my grandkids every year, starting from this year. i'll hopefully have accumulated 50-60 pieces by the time i kick the bucket.it'll be interesting to see how i've changed. heck, it's interesting to read my past entries, and i've never ceased to be amazed by how much growing up, how much change can take place within 6 months.geez, i'm thinking about when i have to leave hc.don't know how i'll feel...but i'm definitely more emotionally attached to hc than i was to crescent. it was light and fluffy for all its worth, but...yeah, in retrospect, there are a few people i've met there whom i'm thankful for today (cue nudgenudgewinkwink), and if nothing, i got to study biology! ok, i don't know where that came from.

haven't posted anything for a long time, so, here goes (written after visiting the night safari, where i saw real elephants and statues of them):

Ivory Elephant

but there are no tusks,
only small flecks of crimson
showing scabs from elemental soup.
Such a strong leash offers no protection.
Your gaping heart is out and trunk-bordered.
But when I put my finger behind the hole,
your heart is flesh again.
If you ask real politely,
I could Jesus you up.

in the spirit of all things cap
i wrote a rap.
there's not much literary value
cos i'm really a sad sack
so ppl, pls don't go "oh, ewwww.."

i went to cap
i had a blast
there was some crap
but it didn't last.
so many cool new ppl
some hilariously lethal

conan the barbarian
with his head banging tendencies
and then there's brian
with his dumnass proclivities.
you see, he plays taiti,
with his cards for all to see.
audrey, who looked like lucy liu
was a ***damn bitch reminiscent of cleo.
but i think her her period soon ended,
cos then she was nice (pls don't get offended:)
alfian saat didn't give me his autograph.
supposedly too embarressed.
he said"i'll swing by to do it, my dearest"
but then he disappeared into the forest.

to be continued...