hmmm..came across a chan brothers advertisement to promote "investigational tours" of auschwitz. am simultaneously revulsed and curious. the package costs =$2-3000...

next in the series of exciting heritage sites!: polpot's execution chambers. touch the very guns he used to kill millions!!!

When me met his first disciples at Benares after his enlightenment, the Buddha outlines his system, which was based on one essential fact: all existence was dukkha. It consisted entirely of suffering; life was wholly awry. Things come and go in meaningless flux. Nothing has permanent significance. Religion starts with the perception that something is wrong. […] The Buddha taught that is was possible to gain release from dukkha by living a life of compassion for all living beings, speaking and behaving gently, kindly and accurately, and refraining from anything like drugs or intoxicants that cloud the mind.- A History of God; Armstrong, p. 32

hmm, been thinking alot lately about religion/what i "Believe" in.
but it's so presumptous to come right out and say that i'm a devout ______, well, simply for the unaffected reason that i'm not. i don't go to church, i don't visit the temple, i don't pray at the mosque every friday. the closest thing that springs to mind when i think about God is the silver grey monster i kowtow to every evening. indeed, life is not one damn thing after another, it's one damn thing over and over. once again, been hearing/reading/seeing everyone around gushing about universities and educational paths. gahhh, am barely getting through school these days, i try my darnest to get out of school before the sun sets, on the pretext of going home to study, but i always falter. (that's the most wrenching thing - that i seem to "study" so much, but i don't have the results to show for it).yes, i do get home before my mother, but the minute i finish my daily dosage of worthless gossip from the newspapers, i flop into bed and promptly indulge in sleep until 7 pm, which is the time i get up to eat my dinner and watch tv. good grief, this does seem like a banal existence, because there's nothing to look forward to. i've not really looked forward to anything for a really long time. something that hits me with such an impact that i drown under it's enormity. i've not been out on a really refreshing event (the carnival misses that by a few notches) or read a wham-hityousmackinthemiddle book in _____. the time period's irrelevant, it's just the ebbing away of all that is spontaneous, that's perhaps what's slowly killing me.

the elddfs party is going to be this sat, but i doubt that anything revolutionary is going to come out of that. hopefully the science people will turn up and we can all mingle in a pretense of friendship and fellowship. "make the society more coherent and bonded". bah. i hate that word - "bonded". but maybe i'm being too difficult on things, that's why i'm permanently in a horrible mood. expecting great transforming and life-altering events to occur every other week seems to be the only way to extricate me from this vapid, pedestrian life. i wish someone would come up to me and convince me, indoctrinate in me the dogma of the modern capitalistic society. stop being a whimisical, lyrical, romantic, astral and foolish dreamer. strive for the free market ideal of perfect competition. perfect competition isperfect, isperfect, isperfect. and you ask yourself where do all these dreams go. or, if you have already been converted into a jaded, cynical city dweller, rephrase the question in another tense - "where did all those dreams go". but i digress.

whoever that person may be, or maybe i'm the already the one assuming that role, only without my inherent knowledge, perhaps that's why i always sit uneasily by myself with too much time (uninvested in more pressing matters), maybe that's why i'm always at odds with myself. self-annihilation irks me. i do know/think i love myself. i am sensible, right? right, maybe in retrospect, that's the problem, i love myself too much. u know of how some lovers always complain about being suffocated and drowned by their over-possesive partners, that could be applied to me, depending on which perspective one chooses to adopt. grapelling with what i want, what i should want, and how i intend to obtain them sucks. i look around the room, and the table is perhaps a reflection of things. it's supposed to be a paradigm of rectangular, clinical neatness. that's how it's shown in all the ikea catalogues.but there're all these .....horrible, disgusting stuff that's cluttering the table. but who's to say that this tender mess is not what characterises the table. sure, it lends individuality and all that crap, but it's ultimately not a table i would show to guests. perhaps a more cursory arrangement of things? ultimately, i'll just have to make do with this table, since buying another one is not an option.

HC Carnival

had a really great time yesterday, even though i was apprehensive abt it at first, cos of all the advertising propaganda being shovelled down our throats, and even on the morning itself, cos it was raining, and i didn't think anyone would want to come. but thankfully, things picked up, cos pple actually patronised our stall. it was a mad rush at the end especially, and all of us slashed prices outrageously. but i had alot of fun anyway, we should have one every year, though i'm quite reserved about the plannning for it. it should be one on a smaller scale, and not too "commemorative", just a day where everyone can chill and have fun. qing and sher came, and i chuffed selling walletsandbags! for a while (ok, abt 1 1/2 hrs:p) to play host. lol, sorry if i wasn't a very good one..! but they seemed content to package flowers in the room with sen.lol. anyway, we took pictures and generally stuffed our faces before those two decided to take off and head for orchard *am offended, how can orchard road possibly be more exciting then hwa chong?!?" :p

elddfs stall did quite well too, ppl actually pay to shoot ping pong balls in the water ( water soccer, with water guns used to propel the balls into the goal net). played with the guns for a while, madly shooting tok.gahhh. but it was fun, so what the heck.

some ex guide juniors came trooping along, and i showed them around (i'm a very lousy guide - in the showing them around hc sense, not in the "i promise to do my very best to serve God etc" sense.-) anyway, they were really sweet n we took pics and were generally happy.


at this point, i wanna refute qing's point abt vj not having any cute guys. saw one with conan (also from vj, but not topic of cute guy expose). looked vaguely like edison chen, some eurasian thing going on. anyway, cant really remember how he looks like now. bah.what's my point.
yep, nothing really, except that we have no sch tmr!!!so yay!

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...

hey everybody!!!am bored but i don't feel like studying. been feeling that way the whole hol, so a bit fei hua.debating whether to drink hot/warm/lukewarm/ice-cold milo. will limit myself to another 5 more mins of personal milo crisis. will write a poem for y'all!!


eeks, writer's block. well, according to most strange ppl lauded by mass population, stringing a montage of strange metaphors with looney paragraphing makes a good poem. right. and i can't write stuff that rhymes. too difficult. could sound like twinkle twinkle little star if not handled properly. borrowed this book from library which seemed pretty cool at first glance.but it turned out to be a total dud. proof that you should never judge a book by its cover. the writer is apparently a music and theatre studies lecturer. he writes like he doesn't know what a woman looks like,the poor deprived goof, much less love/sex (interchangeable nowadays). the worse thing is, most of his stuff are about those topics which he doesn't seem to know much abt. the supposedly poignant stuff turn out funny... anyway, will stop being the failing literary critic. extremely bored now,listening to whitney houston scream "i will always love you".ok.
just read keiffy's blog.
oohmytian it's DISGUSTING. couldn't stop laughing.now in the mood to write crap love poetry

oh you are my heaven
oh my love
where art thou
muacks

there u go, mah opus...:) it's even got onomaetopia (however you spell that) the sound thing.oookkk...
should i bathe first?or drink milo?or listen to whitney? i downloaded 5 different versions of "i will always love you" it's amazing she does these strange vocal gymnastic thingys all the time. plus i got one in spanish. contrary to barcelonians, spanish is not that sexy anyway.

Song

Today on the bus home I heard a dangerous song.
It was venom, flowing into my ears and in my brain,
extemporaneous as a colourless surgical liquid.
It was warm and mellow, yet it quashed my insides,
fuming into descent and self rage, into an anchor in a cup of tears.
It was the slant eyed advocate, whispering in my ear lacy
Mutterings of self hate and hellish verse, and pinching my reddened
flesh to show how soft and crumbling it was.
It was the poetry of the sirens, each heartbreaking contralto
Rending the heart closer to the murderous rocks, each voiceful
quiver the slice of a nail--

Or, shall we say--
it was the soulful rhapsody on love,
curved like the body of the moon, silk thick with the blues
Of love and loss, of distance and stars, of nearness and breath,
and of the everlasting mystery of beauty, its welcome tragedy.
Every sentence an unobtainable rise or a fall, enough to dip my heart
in blood, and to sorely ache the frail dusty body which would henceforth
doubt its staunch disbelief forever after. And my bones nearly broke
themselves like monks in grief-- my body now near fatally astral and
vicarious, watching that unconquerable and hence unredeemable--


I survived, and now I am weak.
What of you churchgoer, visitor of the temple of man, the faith
of his mystery? (I know love and its convictions tingles in your limbs,
brands you like a slave.)

I think. I think I shall not tell you what the name of this
elegy of goddesses and mourn song of man is, lest its karma
one day be your irrevocable death.

joel tee

Experimenting

We don't need no safety net, we're out here on our own--

This is fledgling time:

Experiments in dusty attics
Count and do the mathematics
Free speech, free love, democratics--

And thus:

My muse, unloosed, just confuses
Perhaps the alcohol induces--


I.

We fumble in the dark:
Or you fumble, and I'm lying passive.
I'm lying now, when I say I love you.

And do you mean it, either?
Or were we just a pair of raging hormones--
You with the debonair flair
(And me, just there)
Conveniently, where
Hands in the dark meant nothing, just
Simulating stimulating
Groping and
(manipulating)

--Never you mind, now, dear.
Cup of tea?
Me? (Shall we?)
Fake your innocence: this is daylight; not the time to play with fire.
(Our situation isn't really
that dire--
we're too young
for desire.)

Liar.


II.

Number two was found in a fit of blue
But was unfortunately too straight to do anything with.

Nevertheless:
This was an unknowing inspiration; a summer waxed and waned
And passed me by, and was filled with memories of you.

I still remember the fragments, now, and the glass
pieces have been picked up and put into boxes and labelled safely
behind distant windows.

And wink at me, kindly, and I forget how they cut, then.


III.

The next was fully a year later.

Less intense; drifting incense of my passion burning it away
Keeping up the pretence (better this way)
That this
Was an unrhythmic uncyclical phase
(life's an irregular
chase,
anyway)

And I'm still caught up in this tangled web of roses
My prose's all about love, now, or lust--

And there's that song, you know, about how
The Girls: capitalised, italicised, romanticised in Italian and brought back down
Sharply
Precipitate a reaction that's not worth what you give it.

And dreams, now, and teasing behind the drapes
And familiar shapes in the half-dark of the room
(not the bedroom, you'd never be caught here with me:
Suspect me of date rape
whatever.)

Italicise me, romanticise me, remind me and mind me
And rewind your memories, when this is twenty years behind me
And Realise (yes, capitalised) that this is what binds me:
That I am a Girl.
--to you, and you were kind to me.


IV.

I never learn, do I.

Juggling two at once
Tuppence, I thought--it's experimental!
(and, of course, detrimental
to our mental health, but never mind)

So we promised to kiss.

We haven't yet.

kelly lai


ahhh.. in love with their writing. ok, somewhat intimidated now, what are we supposed to do together? he seems awfully worldly, hope i don't spontaneously combust once everyone discovers i'm dumb.i should stop saying that. so implusible. so fluctant. i never could stand those weak changelings. now i'm just another one.argh, i actually get nervous before calling han. what if he screams at me?what if he hangs up? [it's my phone dammit.]

right. haven't written anything for quite a while now, not in the mood for poetry. it seems so flippant next to econs. i love econs. sadly, love is unrequited, this is probably the only crush i'll ever have in jc - on a subject. yayzers.

but whatever.need to get in the mood before cap. will not be overtly concerned with how my poetry fares against mr joel poet laureate tee.can't stand it, i wished i wrote "song".hrmph.

ah well, just finished reading everybody's blogs...apparently no one is doing ANY studying..lol, wonder how much of that i should believe, anway, it's stupid, but somehow it makes me feel better, even though i know those toads have been MUGGING!!! econs tys open beside me now, i've been on the same page for the past five hours. i'm getting really good at economies of scale,lol...

argh, got into MAJOR trouble with parents for lack of fillial piety..dad was yelling abt how i spend time giving free tuition to ouutsiders but never bothering to help with the family's needs. i do!!i sweep, clean, cook..when i told him that he threatened to slap auntie millet "THEN WHY THE FUCKING HELL DO I HIRE HER FOR???!!!"
proceeded to swear at me for next 15 mins, which wasn't the worst bit. stupid sister, after returning from england, started behaving in her pom pous anglophillic way, and didn't even stand up for me. argh, n she's not that fillial either, u know.only avoided screaming session by pretending ot be asleep. she woke right up the minute dad went downstairs.argh, she still has the cheek to talk to me abt the royal shakespeare theatre. since when was sharkespeare royalty anyway?and the play wasn't even some blockbuster tragedy...it was "THE LION KING". apparently she now thinks it's the best work of literature ever.

honestly, i was just having a frank talk w my mom 3 days ago on how all her children suck, and that she had better not bequeth anything to us, keep some money for herself, in case her bastard children abandon her n she has problems with spousal infidelity or something. she smiled the wane smile of realising that i'm right (hey, at least i admit that i'm not a very good kid), but at the same time wanting me to shut up.seriously, i hope that i won't grow up to be like those money grubbing bitches on tv who dump their parents in weird homes with strange redlippedcurlyhairedfullboobied nurses. that's why the gov. should subsidising old folk's homes, it's so cheap now it's convenient to dump your parents there..tsk.

anyway, cos of my total lack of morality, my parents forbid me to go out, i'm missing the sentosa trip..but still...HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHERRY!!! u guys could send me some pics and i could probably super-impose my face next to qing. or something. argh, still have a few more days to mug before block tests, need to do well so that mr barnard won't think i'm stupid. and so that i won't think i'm stupid. ditto for all the people i know. so that THEY (no one in particular...just, um, EVERYBODY~!!!@@#$#) won't think i'm stupid. sigh, i refuse to be stuck in this cycle of mediocrity all my life, determined to get SOME kind of scholarship.

anyway, on to happier things...

lemme think...

i lost 100g
i have 5 chocolate bars at home.
there's buffy tonight.
yep, that's abt it..:)ahh.. in bliss.

*rudely interrupted by asshole named handoko*
he's the absolute bastard n he ranks up there with my brother on the list of pple who piss me off most. was so angry i almost cried. no classmate has ever made me cry since pri one when the stupid bitch stole my pink crayon.this F#@$#@ asshole hasn't returned me my phone, and his attitude about it was plain wrong. i mean he asked me to stop bugging him cos "he needed to study for his geog". wtf, as if our phone conversations ever last past 3 mins.then he promptly proceeded to HANG UP ON ME. being the alpha female who would not stand to be bullied, i called back to retaliate, but, guess what, he asked his maid to blow me off. "he nn nnooo in now". for pete's sake i could HEAR HIM SAY "tell her i'm out" in the background . fucking asshole. just talking abt it makes me so pissed.

then i called his mommy the next day.

gracious tongwei didn't bitch abt the bastard to his mommy, instead, i very politely requestred that my phone be procured as soon as possible. starting to regret tht i didn't use stronger language. he certainly didn't rein in on the profanities.argh.

pw is not going anywhere either, ocs it seems that only ruilin n me are doing the proiject. melvin is another asshole, i have yet to receive any work done by him at all, but peck tells me he's always online. why the hell are u not participating in pw if you have so much time to go online!?!?!?! u sad bastard, i'm not going to give you a good grade at the end of pw. but then again, melvin has gained a rep for being an asshole, so i guesss he's not expecting a v good grade either. life is ruled and ruined by various assholes all over the place.

"and i rise from the ash
with my red hair
and i eat men like air"

!@#@#@%$#@ to all the bastards out there.mess with someone else.humph.

ah well, getting nostalgic,realised i'm starting to miss crescecnt, even though the last two yrs weren't that great, but still fondly recall some 4c1 ppl.. shiwen,quiying,shrads,gek,tracey,wila,abby,terri,daphne, ppl sitting at the right side of the class, right by position, and right by character:)we had some fun times, i still remember the time when hui ee was convinced that our sub was actually a male masquerading as a female, she had an awkward bump SOMEWHERE, you see, it's all so stupid now, but it was hysterically funny then..the queer female sub is teaching at hc now, and she does have some weird underwear, which could prob explain the weird growth... anyways, just chatted w shrads online, hiaz miss them cute ppl w all eccentric habits "stand on my right!!!" (yashira)
yellow plate food stall's no. one fan.. etc, well, if it's any comfort, i still see some of them online:) guess you'll just be friends for as long as possible, then you'll part amicably, not out of choice, but ...(is this the right word?) out of convenience, this way, when you see each other on the streets, you'll wave and exchange a perfunctuary greeting..."oh, hey, she was my best friend in secondary sch. wait!!give me one second, i'm sure i can remember her name...ahh!mary!no..wait, lucy!!yes, that's it. hey!lucy!!!"

"lucy says": "oh my gaaawwwd!!!is that you?!?! wei tong!!"

30 seconds later...

drama production is FINALLY over!!! hope this post-production ecstasy will last through the next few months...production was damn tiring, but we had sooooo much fun!got to know so many science ppl i probably wouldn't have had the chance of coming into contact otherwise!bought chocs for them, but hope i will not finish the entire packet by myself before i next see them.good karma propagating within, everyone is getting better looking!with exception of HAN WHO STILL OWES ME MY PHONE.THE ASSHOLE WHO HAD THE CHEEK TO REFUSE ME MY COMPENSATION!?!?!WTH?!?!WILL MAKE HIM PAY FOR IAN'S PRESENT...WILL CALL HIS MUMMY ONE DAY TO COMPLAIN ABOUT HIM.HAN, THAT IS, NOT IAN.

anyway, had LD elections yesterday, which i kinda screwed up
(but what's new:)..mispronounced "similarly", finally gave up and said "likewise", which was really embarressing, but nevermind, will try not to screw up the interviews.

anyway, trying my best to finish up everything,ie writing new stuff for CAP;trying to impress no one in particular;hatching schemes to bribe cool singaporean gay poets to mentor me for CAP;finishing hol hmwk;cramming for 6 subjects in time for blocj tests next month;finish reading stack of books slowly piling up (i have no idea why i complusively borrow/buy somemore books even though i haven't finished the ones at home...argh);clean up room;spend more time with dog...and friends..lol,kidding, friends come first:);lose 2kg(that's not too difficult,right???:)

tiny bit of gossip i feel compelled to share(even though u guys might not care, but i HAVE to get it out)
it's really funny, voyueristic tendencies rearing and demanding for next visual feast..kl & cp & a are embroiled in some kind of torrid gut-wrenching triangle complex.it's hilarious(to me at least
) everything is SOOO cheesy it just makes you wanna slap them...qoute "I just want you to be happy with him.."*mournful look*lol, wth says that crap?!?!pointlessly hyterical..laughing to myself again.plus super humiliating and cringe-worthy spelling mistakes(online confessions splayed over person in subject's blog)!!!here's a teaser:
"Kisses are e norishments of life"
this is funnier:
"epitomy of saneness"

ok, will stop pruriently prying and gloating, it may not even be what it seems, cos there's some weird mention of JAS (strange new character i've never heard of, may be k's ex nanyang gf, who may not even be in hc, certainly not in humans though).okaaaay, mental apology to friends who don't deserve this ridiculing, but you know what, i can't help it, it's so funny.ianity.i must be too stressed out, either that, or too deprived, i mean even ch 8 drama serials have better scripts.
shut up and turn on the tv.

The blacklist was a time of evil. No one on either side who survived it came through untouched by evil. There was bad faith and good, honesty and dishonesty, courage and cowardice, selflessness and opportunism, wisdom and stupidity, good and bad on both sides. Failure felt very much like success.

Sylvia Plath,Edge

thank you God, whatever u are (Y.Martel changes your outlook:),for letting me get into CAP.thank you all non-bitchy friends whom i bugged with my sub-standard poems.thank you silence for exactly that.thank you, the triumvirate alliance who threatened to trample on my pride.thank you for doing as i requested (pleaded?)--to be gentle.
thank you Plath, for making me moody, because one needs to be screwed to up write.(now, isn't that true?:)

looking very much forward to attending CAP...Can't wait to find out who my mentor is..alfian sa'at, i hope.a screwed gay.does that explain itself?

"what do you tell the woman who believes her happiness lies at the other end of a Toto queue"
-alfian sa'at

anyway, com serve was (unusually)productive today. they were holding a party when i got there, to celebrate someone's birthday or something. something.don't they hate to be reminded of their birthdays?i think i may have spoilt uncle jaya.the nurses warned me abt doing tt, "girl
he'll ask u for thing,even if unecessary one"

strangely,(have been using this word too often for comfort)everyone was strangely hungry today.so that's good, right.the thing was, i kept cogitating if they knew that their time was nearing, so they might as well grab a last, full meal or something. i prefer something.