it's the last paper tmr (S Lit), am feeling an odd mix of relief and dread, and a very draining haplessness, but i can't bring myself to study anymore. have been staring at TWO shelves full of books, half of which i've never read before, and the other half of which i've totally forgotten. i think i may be the only candidate tmr who's got nothing to talk about except a few A and O Level texts. KOC anyone?

quite depressing, especially when others are doing cool stuff like Ian McEwan, JM Coetzee etc, but i don't know much about their work, so, yes, am reduced to a bout of whining and self-pitying. but i do think i read quite considerably, it's just that i don't really absorb all the complex intricacies and Themes/Concerns of the books. I just read them y'know? As a result, i can remember that I've read the book, I can remember if i liked it or not, but i have no clue as to discussing it at an academic level. Plus i just can't crap enough to link and cross-reference them properly. (imagine cross referencing jeanette winterson and Koc...hmm, actually, i do see a sort of semblance, with jw's lesbos and the possible suppressed homosexual desire edmund has for kingshaw..hey, i might not be that hopeless afterall...) argh, am panicking, but not quite. (it's another sort of brooding and brewing sort of panic)

and haven't been writing in a long time, sigh, can't seem to start again. (it's kinda like exercising :x)

BUT, am muchly looking forward to traditional class fishing outing on tues, heh, still remember the trip last year, and HZ actually going home to cook our catch (: i hate (most) fish though, can't stand the taste, so when she brought these yummy looking fried things that looked like macdonalds fish fillets, i characteristically stuffed one in, but immediately spat it out, and i saw glimpses of silver and almost vomitted. would have been quite funny though-- imagine the new hwa chong insignia: a brown girl, holding a brown fish, projectile vomitting brown liquid, all very colour co-ordinated and etc.

argh, perpetually stuck in state of Existential Panic. people have been commenting that those 2 have become my favourite words of late, hah, but i think i shall reduce my usage of them, cos i want to preserve some of their oomph. :)

i usually have tons of crap to talk about here, but today, am strangely at a loss for words, but just felt like blogging anyway, probably cos i spent the last hour blog surfing :x eeps, i know, feel guilty.

Daddy's birthday is on tues! so, am happy that i'll be free from mugging to celebrate it with him, will be getting a nice prezzie for him from the whole family, so the budget has inflated quite considerably :p <3 him alot though he often gripes (jokingly i hope) about me being fat, lazy, stupid, unfilial -- did i mention i was getting him a present....

ok whatever, shall definitely blog more tmr when the plug from my throat is pulled out by the Post-Prelim Goddess. wth, how am i supposed to write 3 passable essays like that!?!?!?

Antony and the Johnsons

oh man, they make me cry

Fistful of Love

I was lying in my bed last night staring
At a ceiling full of stars
When it suddenly hit me
I just have to let you know how I feel
We live together in a photograph of time
I look into your eyes
And the seas open up to me
I tell you I love you
And I always will
And I know that you can't tell me
So I'm left to pick up
The hints, the little symbols of your devotion
I feel your fists
And I know it's out of love
And I feel the whip
And I know it's out of love
I feel your burning eyes burning holes
Straight through my heart
It's out of love
I accept and I collect upon my body
The memories of your devotion

Cripple and the Starfish

Mr. Muscle forcing bursting
Stingy thingy into little me, me, me
But just "ripple" said the cripple
As my jaw dropped to the ground
Smile smile

It's true I always wanted love to be
Hurtful
And it's true I always wanted love to be
Filled with pain
And bruises

Yes, so Cripple-Pig was happy
Screamed " I just compeletely love you!
And there's no rhyme or reason
I'm changing like the seasons
Watch! I'll even cut off my finger
It will grow back like a Starfish!
It will grow back like a Starfish!
It will grow back like a Starfish!"

Mr. Muscle, gazing boredly
And he checking time did punch me
And I sighed and bleeded like a windfall
Happy bleedy, happy bruisy

I am very happy
So please hit me
I am very happy
So please hurt me

I am very happy
So please hit me
I am very very happy
So come on hurt me

I'll grow back like a Starfish
I'll grow back like a Starfish
I'll grow back like a Starfish
I'll grow back like a Starfish

I'll grow back like a Starfish
I'll grow back like a Starfish
I'll grow back like a Starfish
I'll grow back like a Starfish
Like a Starfish...

It's poetry, heh, but strictly not for mugging listenership, which brings me to the another purpose of this entry:

Ode To Jay Chou's Fantasy Album (in my opinion, the best fecking mandarin album i own)

Year of purchase:2002
Location: Pirated cd shack in Hong Kong

IT'S easy listening, and i know all the lyrics by heart, his mumbling has attached itself irrevocably in a comfortable cranial corner (awwyeah, alliteration) you just flow with his music, and it's like listening to an old friend musing about life. i'm never bored of this album (i should know, i listen to it almost everynight). In fact, zhoudong eradicates boredom, you are suddenly not that tired anymore. the arrangement of the songs show a flow that mirrors the mugging process.
first you start out wistful, hopeful,(ai zai xi yuan jian~love before the western era, or sth liddat) then you start getting a bit frustrated, vindictive (the anti-mother-basher rap opus ba, wo hui lai le~ ahpa, i'm home). But you start to mellow, trying to convince yourself that it's all v simple (jian dan ai~simple love). you persevere as the night drags on (ren zhe~the tolerant one...it's difficult to translate the sublime poeticism of jay;p)you enter a period of existential panic as you realise that the fecking prelims are 3 days away, you ask fundamental questions about your existence, but you find out that (kai bu liao kou~my mouth cannot open) all you yearn for is to hark back to a simpler era (shanghai 1943) but you're suddenly reminded of all the blessings of the 21st century, and you feel slightly embarrassed about your incessant whining (dui bu qi~sorry la) the witching hours are the hardest to deal with (wei lian gu bao~the old castle with witches) you start hallucinating about macbeth's ghosts etc (no kidding)the climax is approaching! you psyche yourself up with a high-energy nanchaku flinging number (shuang jie gun~nanchaku). the end is nearing, the dawn is dawning you feel a sense of accomplishment from reading 2pgs of sloman, and you retire to sleeeep (an jing~quiet).

Right, that was my incoherent ode to mah homeboy jay chou. <3 him
ok, am off to listen to jay (:

because i'm a dreadful slacker.

1.

Han: So there's this cool james bond villain with a metal jaw and he goes around eating ppl
Nurul: how cool!!
Tong Wei: hey nurul, aren't you only supposed to eat halal food? but men are not halal
risse, shuki: omg, that was classic
Tw: i'm losing it

2.

Ian: yo wanna go kap to muggg?
Tw: no, it's damn late and i wanna go home. how abt tmr? a couple of us are mugging at orchard
I: no lar, i can't mug outside one

3.

N: I'm so not a pink person, it's so bimbotic
Tw: no lar, you look quite sweet in pink! and bimbos are Babes In Total Control of Themselves!
N: er, that's a bitch dear

(i hope the sublime comedy is apparent. heh)

4.
while watching a hot wushu babe practising her swordplay

I: man, she should just stay at home and cook
Tw: or she cld come right up and impale you with her xiaolongniu skills

5.

Joel: A Wife is a useful thing to have
All: rrrighttt
J: see, she can be used to Wash, Iron, Fuck, Etc

6.

Joel (again): hey, what to gays do when they fight?
Tw: what
J: they exchange blows



omggg, we're all dying, and seniors all leaving soon/have already left. feeling a tad desperate.