There Are No Ends, Only Beginnings.

What a pretentious title, I know, but I can't think of anything else haha. Anyhow I decided I have to blog because this is gonna be my last post of the year. Since I'm going on HOLIDAY! tomorrow mmhmmm.

I guess it doesn't really feel like the end of the year yet, maybe that's a feeling you only get after Christmas is over, but anyhoo, here's me forced into making my year-end post without feeling like it is the end.

It's been an insane year, it has. Only going to get insane-r in the next 2 weeks, with Paris and Lyon and Marseille etc. beckoning. But what a year. Exactly a year ago I was in totally different circumstances from the one I find myself in now. Still in OCS, still waking up at 0525H every morning, still lost and confused over what to study in uni.

This past year I went through MSTD and was at one of the lowest ebbs in my life probably, that and the confinement that followed. I served out 24 (plus minus) confinements and a few days of RCP from April to June, going home only 3/4 times all this while. I considered giving up and OOC. I almost did, I think.

It's almost ridiculous to think that just 5 months ago we were commissioned, after 12 long months of MIDS. It's been such a long 5 months. Australia first and now the UK. The 3 months (less, even) that I've spent here have felt much longer. I'm doing things I had no idea how to (or just plain wouldn't) do a mere 3 months ago.

I've gotten used to living alone and I'm going to spend Christmas and New Year alone as well. During my confinements I learnt how precious my friends were to me when I couldn't step out of camp. I also learnt that I could survive that without going mad (or maybe I did HAHA) and emerged cherishing and savouring the times I had with friends and family. Cause you don't know what you've got till it's gone.

I've learnt how disgustingly lazy I can get when I'm under no supervision whatsoever. And that it's actually really easy to make changes to your life if you want to. I became aware of  how much of an asshole I used to be and that I am more capable of being one than I liked to think myself. I tried to make amends as well, and I hope that wasn't all bad.

I thought that maybe I could fall in love again. I still think so.

I started writing again, after almost a year's hiatus. I even tried my hand at poetry hahah! I stopped my hand at poetry. I completed a few of the stories I'd had in my head for years, like the love left dry one, and the nightmare one, and the removal of hearts one. I was and am still quite happy about the results. I don't know what other people think of it but I think I've come to realize that the important thing is the writing of the stories, not their reception. I think I might still continue to write, although I just as well might not.

I think I became a whole lot more responsible, especially with family affairs. Among my more triumphant memories is that of me convincing mom and dad to agree to let my sister head over to Melbourne for her final sem, and convincing my sister to forget about any financial issues and to just go.

Looking at where I am now, I have almost nothing to complain about. I am exactly where I want to be and it is pretty amazing. If I were to have imagined, at the start of the year, where I would be and what I would be doing, I wouldn't have been able to envision this. The circumstance I find myself in now is quite frankly, unbelievable. Sometimes I just stop and think: Wow, this is pretty much perfect isn't it? It is.

So this has been a good year, an incredible year. I have some lingering regrets about some of its elements, no doubt about that, but what's past is past really. Some missed opportunities you desperately rue, but we have to get over them and construct yet more chances, even if it's only to be disappointed once again. Still we try.

And that's the spirit I hope to bring into the new year, that of hope. Hopefully the year approaching carries with it the rich vein of form that this year has displayed, and it will be awesome.

That's the EOY post then. I'll probably be out of contact till the 7th of January, during which I'll be enjoying myself massively, spending Christmas in Paris and perhaps a Nice New Year (that's a pun) or the Alps maybe. So please go ahead and have happy christmasses and merry new years without worrying about me in my solitude hahaha.

And have a nice time reflecting on your year as well, because that to me is one of the most important things to do. So you remember what you didn't want to forget. So you remember what you wanted to forget, and maybe realize that it's not worth forgetting. Or that it's worth too much to forget.

Yep. I'll see ya'll then. To the promise of 2012, cheers.

Let Us Be Silhouettes.

My body is in crisis mode. I try my hardest and finally succeed at sleeping while the sun is down (quite a large range considering it's winter...) and slept at 4. I woke up at 6. My body thinks I'm taking a nap when I'm really trying to get a good night's sleep and wake up to sunlight. Bloody hell. Instead I'm take a nap at 12pm and wake up at 6, when the sun's down. Wut.

Must be in protest to my hair. I know I've been going on and on and on and on about it but as of yesterday, my hair bears close resemblance to Spock. Yes, the Star Trek dude. Damn. I'm gonna have to perma-beanie soon I think!

Anyway the same sleep-nonsense happened to me last night when I woke up at around 4am. After bumming around on the internet/warcraft3 I decided I'd try to catch the sunrise. Unfortunately though, I had that thought at around 7:40 and sunrise was at 7:50, and I still had to bathe/change/etc. No loss though, cause it was raining and the sun didn't peek through the clouds till almost 9 probably. I say rain, but halfway during my walk it actually hailed. Whattttttttttttttt! I was so excited to feel and feel the ice pattering all about hehe. I think I shall embark on a quest soon to seek out the nicest sunrise here, which my destroyed sleep pattern would actually aid in, just about the only thing it's good for.

I'm actually feeling rather sleepy now sigh. at 10:51am. What is this!!! I think it's something about the lack of drive after completing my essay actually, the knowledge that I can do anything anytime, so I don't do anything and waste all that precious time bah. I'm halfway through Lord of the Flies now but I'm not in a reading mood. I did watch I am Number Four last night with my housemates, and it was not as bad as I thought it'd be! Super corny lines, sure, but it wasn't a bad show. And all those totally unnecessary shots of his abs, srsly?! Hahahaha, like the whole hoo-ha about the A&F chaps back home.

Don't know why home seems so hapz once I'm gone, MRT problem and male models and all tsk. I kind of wish I were home now, especially when I see all the people who have gone home on facebook haha. But.. first christmas totally alone I guess. And new year. It's weird, really. I've felt lonely and I've wanted to be alone on christmas before, but proper all-by-myself-alone?! Man, this is gonna be such a different experience!

I feel the onset of a fever maybe. Body aches and stuff. And a very sore throat. I'm leaving tmr afternoon so plz don't do this to me mine own body! Methinks the body doth protest too much (in revolting against my hair. please. why get so personal? hair isn't even alive come on.) Alternatively, it's the hail. Walking around with ice falling through the air seems very cool and all, but it might just get you sick, boys and girls. Bah I feel so shitty now, can't muster the energy for movie/reading/anything thisuckz. And I can't sleep in case I knock myself out for 8 hours or so and wake up at night again. That would be beyond awful. Life!

Heh I'm just thinking of the patron saint of lost causes for some reason. If you think to invoke this saint, wouldn't that mean that at some level you don't fully believe it's a lost cause at all? I guess sometimes you do something that seems so hopeless and laughable, and all you can do then is to cast about wildly for hope haha. Somehow though, I can't help but try, even though I know the likely outcome sigh.

Okay panadol helped. But I think I shall take a nap now and wake up for dinner in a few hours :D Seriously gotta fix my system though haha. CYA.

PigsGoMoo.

Pigs go moo? Only in worlds fictitious. Worlds that never were, and never will be. Worlds that exist only in our minds. And that's what this will all be about, fiction. Flights of fancy so far out, the realm they call reality is left behind, dwindling and shrinking till it is barely a speck on a horizon so vast. I do it injustice, it is not merely vast but infinite. An infinity of unexplored space for us to wander through and stumble upon, for our imagination knows no bounds.

Fiction is powerful. It can be joyous, melancholic, frightening, soothing or any number of adjectives you'd care to apply. It arrests our conscious minds and pervades our unconscious (our dreams.) It lifts you out of your everyday humdrum and transports you to fantastical (and quite fantastic) realms. It is escapism, yes. To be able to attach yourself to a character and experience his highs, or even his lows, which have nothing at all to do with your own life and whatever situations you are caught up in. For a page or two, an hour or a day, the problems you face mean nothing. All that matters is the hero slaying the dragon, solving the crime, romancing his lover.

Everyone remembers the fictional characters from their childhood. There are so many. Your fairy tales, Cinderella and Snow White and more. Dorothy and Toto and the Wizard of Oz. The Secret Seven and Famous Five, also the Wishing Chair or something. The Bookworm Club with Ah Seng and Kuku, Mimi and Edison. Harry Potter and Dumbledore, Frodo Baggins and Gandalf Greyham. Alice and the Mad Hatter, Aslan the Lion and his frosty nemesis the White Witch. And more contemporary we have our favourite EDWARD CULLEN immortalized on the silver screen by our favourite handsumman ROBERT PATTINSON!!!!!!!! (Oh wait he's already immortal, sparkly vampire that he is.)

There are so many more examples to draw on, I've only just barely skimmed the childhood ones. These characters are so memorable, despite being nothing more than ink on paper. You remember them more clearly and know them better than that primary 5 classmate whom you'd spent at least a year with.

I started reading at a tender young age, impressionable young child that I was. Enid Blyton and Roald Dahl of course, the most beloved of authors to kids everywhere. Asterix and Obelix, Tintin soon followed. Animorphs, that was truly awesome. No Hardy Boys for me though, my little mind then perceived it as a series that was trying too hard to act cool, for all those pseudo-cool boys out there. I remember this girly (euphemism for YUCKS!! when you're a young boy) series Sweet Valley (probably) although I hasten to add I was a manly boy and never read anything so effeminate. I do remember my sister reading it so it was probably quite prevalent while we were young.

At maybe primary 5/6 I started reading thrillers and those war books so appealing to a young boy with grand notions of being a hero with the shiny sword or the sniper who never misses or the lightsaber legend. You know. Tom Clancey, Stephen Coonts are some of the authors I remember reading. Not exactly comprehending, though. Even worse was attempting Dreamcatcher at P6. I tried again at Sec 2 and still didn't really get it. And also Mario Puzo's Godfather. My dad saw me reading it and promptly returned it while I was in school, then telling me that I was way too young to be reading something like that. All that sex and violence! Of course, LOTR + The Hobbit and Harry Potter also surfaced sometime then thanks to the movies. One of the best presents I've received in my life has been all three LOTR books and The Hobbit shortly after I expressed an interest in The Fellowship Of The Ring. Awesome.

After that, much older and wiser (I was in secondary school after all!) stuff like Dan Brown's thinking thrillers came in. Satire too, Ben Elton and Terry Pratchett. I can't recall what else though. I should mention a healthy interest in fantasy (to a lesser extent sci-fi) since childhood. What was cooler than imagining myself Padawan to a Jedi Master in the mould of the great Qui-Gonn Jin? I read quite alot of fantasy series, some of which unfortunately have been forgotten.

And now I'm quite into a vein of books I'm not sure how to classify. They're not exactly literature (what they're filed under in bookstores.) Or maybe that's just me cause I classify stuff like Edgar Allen Poe and Shakespeare under literature. Literary fiction maybe? I think of them as books about life. These are usually very insightful and more often than not, very brilliant, at least those I've read. Insightful with regards to humanity, our failings and sometimes even our merits, our capacity for good. Khaled Hosseini, Milan Kundera, Cormac McCarthy, Jonathan Safran Foer are those I can clearly recall. They have written some of the best books I have had the fortune to read so you should probably read them someday too. If you're half as moved and impacted as I was it'd still be awesome.

I'm hoping having a separate blog here will give me the motivation to write some of the stories I want to write (and there are alot of them.) I also wanted to have a place where I can read through the stories I've come up with cause it's really cumbersome to trawl through all my other posts. Dunno if I should copy some of my thoughts after writing those stories too though, as I feel some of them are actually quite important. Then again stories should be able to speak for themselves, so if it doesn't then it's a lousy story anyway.

Originally I had no idea whether or not I wanted to go about telling people about this. It's human nature to want to be noticed right? If I write a story I want it to be read. For a story to be liked is not always necessary, sometimes the important thing is that it was even written at all.

I've got nothing much to add I guess.

In case anyone was wondering though, PigsGoMoo was originally my Viwawa account (mahjong + bridge + dai di yeah!) that I created in sec 4 while feeling particularly eccentric. More accurately (and honestly) put, I was probably trying to act cute. I have to assert that I no longer play Viwawa so do not flame me for being lame.


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I had this none-too-bright idea almost exactly a year ago now to start a separate blog where I'd post my stories and talk about bookz and nothing but bookz. I think I was in the middle of a massive brain-drain and I thought that with a dedicated blog to fiction I'd write more. Hahaha clearly didn't work out! This was the only post I had apart from some thoughts on Milan Kundera's The Joke, mega-fail obviouslyz.

It's actually fun to look back at the stupid ideas you've had in the past. I remember digging out this primary school exercise book where we did very important primary school exercises i.e. listing out your future Wife/Job/House or sth. Hahahahahaha! I think mine was... Emily/Astronaut/Mansion or something. Hahahaah unbelievable. Actually no, I think Emily was my brother's crush, not mine, so.... I can't remember who mine was actually. I can't believe I actually did this with my brother though, I'd never have thought he and I would so freely share the names of the objects of our affections!

But yeah, it was always gonna be Mansions/Bungalows. I think we were a bit too old for Castles/Palaces and not old enough for Fortresses. And Lawyers/Doctors/Astronauts (if we were feeling fanciful.) Based on my vast knowledge of course, of me and my brother's dreams at the time! You'd think it was a one-off exercise, but the best part of it is that we'd do it again and get different results! Except for the Wife part though, I'm pretty sure they remained the same, although I might have been fickle-minded enough to have to choose between two... What a juggler.

In a mere 10years though, I have wholly different dreams. I retain none of those 3 parts anymore. And in another 10years, everything will seem so different again. And again. It's amazing how life works really. And scary too.

Anyhow I spent 6 hours on skype with my parents and my brother in the morning just now. Absolutely ridiculous! Although closer to the end me and my brother were talking about cyptozoology of all things. And giant isopods (yuck) and diving penguins and ugly elephant seals etc. I am secretly relieved though, that we can still talk with each other so much. There was a time there when I was pretty worried about how anti-social and reticent and depressed-looking he seemed haha!

But there's no going back to the happy days of our childhood when we were the Twin Terrors of Trains (and buses and more) He'll be enlisting soon enough and university will follow soon after. Neither of us can lay claim to being children any more, and we're right on the precipice of adulthood now. Work and family and a thousand other commitments will set in all too soon and it seems inevitable that the trajectory of our lives are on divergent courses. So it is with everyone else in your life, I suppose. But this is my little brother so.. I am feeling quite melancholic about it haha.

I'll be home in 2014, which is when he's starting uni. I'm hoping he studies overseas as well, and I'm pretty sure he's going to. That means that for the next 6 years, plausibly, our room will have only one occupant. That's pretty depressing!

Okay on other less depressing notes.. I had a christmas dinner yesterday involving carrots dipped in humous with moroccan sauce, potato mash with mustard-custard and pestoed pasta. Followed by crêpes deliciousés de Eeva, made by my housemate Eeva and obviously, named by her as well. This was accompanied with oven-baked-apples and vanilla ice cream and on my second piece, nutella. After that was cheese and biscuits, and you should be aware that the British take their cheese very seriously indeed. We had smoked-something-cheese and chili-cheese and onions-and-chives(?)-cheese. Coupled with port wine, apparently a tradition of over a hundred years old. We ended off with coffee and supposedly chocolates, but since that would have been a gastronomical and physical impossibility, we decided not to eat anything more, so just coffee it was.

I decided I had to learn how to make the crêpes, cause I know my sister will be well impressed and possibly even delirious if I made that when I'm back home. So I got the recipe and instructions hehe, and it's is going to be legendairy. Yep, I've been watching HIMYM.

I watched The Beach after that, even though I was really tired. Good choice though, I thought it was a great movie. I only watched it, really, because it had Leonardo DiCaprio, since I had no idea what it was about and I'd never heard of it. What I don't understand though.. is how can anyone ditch Etienne?! Handsome and nice and good at soccer and french to boot. Why would anyone choose an obnoxious Yank over him, even if that Yank is Leonardo DiCaprio?! Bah. Women!

Okay I'm done now, thinking of watching either Chicago or Into The Wild (seems rather pertinent before embarking on a holiday alone haha) or reading a book. In any case, goodbye and happy christmassing!

TRIUMPH! AND! VICTORY!

HELLO ALL I HAVE JUST COMPLETED MY ESSAY @ 6.50AM AND I AM WHOOPSYDAISYSUPERVERYHAPPEE!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Cause 2 exclamation marks are not enough. The kind of liberation and relief you have no idea. Now I am free to do ANYTHING I want!!!! And free to dream of the holiday I will be embarking on in just 5 days! And go wild and enjoy Christmaspirit! Rejoice! Rejoice! Alleluia!

I've been awake since 12pm yesterday and I've been working on my damned essay all this while. Of course I had little breaks in between. I even binged on food, possibly the first time in my life I've ever had to succumb to that. I woke up and took a yoghurt from the fridge. I ate the emergency biscuits in my room. I made fish and chips. I made mashed potato. I ate more biscuits (custard cream mmhmm.) I ate rice pudding. I ate cold ham. I made litres of ribena. 'tis unbelievable, wot!

I've been tramping about the internet trawling for articles, I haven't taken my eyes of the screen for more than 30mins in the past 18 hours I think, reminiscent of my neopet days... Of course not, I'm way too manly for that. I mean Maplestory. No. Runescape. NO.

Anyhow, despite all my intellectual protests at the rubbish I was writing (like filler episodes in Samurai X) and all my agonizations and procrastination, I am finally done with the accursed essay. On to happier stuff!

I put the blame squarely on myself for all this torture, even in the midst of convincing myself to complete my essay, I found time to finish reading All Hell Let Loose by Max Hastings, "unquestionably the greatest single-volume history of the war ever written." It is a 700-page hardcover tome, which I started barely a week ago. Says alot about my stupid priorities, I finished the book before I was even a third of the way into my essay. It was a brilliant read though, not just about the various glorifications of the war that's been made since.

I have not watched any movies/tv shows in the past week (although I more than made up for that in the preceding weeks by racing through whole seasons of House and HIMYM) but I did find an awesome radio channel or somesuch. I clicked on a link to listen to Eisley's The Valley and was led to Jango.com which gave me an Eisley radio station.

eisley froufrou imogenheap tilly&thewall flo+machine afinefrenzy coldplay reginaspektor lenka emilyhaines deathcab phoenix mgmt feist thehushsound yeahyeahyeah's tegan&sara keane iron&wine natalie walker thepostalservice theverve thebird&thebee metric thewhitestripes

That was the result I got. Awesome or what?! It is quite an eerie assortment of bands/singers that have caught my fancy in recent years. Feist, Emily Haines, Lenka, The Hush Sound and to a lesser extent Iron and Wine (I used to think they were massively overrated, but their cover of Such Great Heights is not too bad afterall) are new discoveries though. But I never thought I'd hear Eisley and Frou Frou and Regina Spektor and YYY's and Phoenix and MGMT etc etc in a single compilation. Someone on high must be smiling on me pretty hard.

Somehow I get the vividest of dreams when I'm in rather shallow sleep. Like after going back to sleep after waking up to the alarm and setting it an hour later. Meaning I can't have slept for more than an hour. Yet my dream seemed to be quite the epic. The oddest dream, filled with people who are, shamefully, peripheral figures in my life. It is quite sad how many of them there are actually. People whom I remember acutely but who don't feature anymore.

My plans do not involve any shallow sleep from now on though, it's gonna be full-blooded 14 hour mega sleeps and 400,000 winks cause I.... FINISH ESSAY YESSAHBOMB>

I do have some homework over the next few days, albeit self-imposed. What's that?! one cries, still more homework after that ordeal? It is this: to learn french! I'm not particularly ambitious about this to be honest, cause linguistically I have the ability of single-celled organisms probably. But just basic "survival" french will do! Along the lines of (and in order of relative importance): HELP!, WHERE ARE WE?, Hello, Excuse me, do you speak English?, Thank you, Where is the food?, Please, Don't, Hurt, Me.

I have heard the Frenchman's historic hatred for Englishmen extend to poor Chinese boys who unfortunately, had not the fortune to grow up reading le Petit Prince or listen to Edith Piaf. I had 5566 and Jay Chou though, fair trade. So yeah, survival certainly is a strong incentive to embark on a quest to master at least 10 phrases in the french language, especially if I'm gonna spend weeks in france! Hehehe just 12 hours ago I refused to let myself get distracted/excited by that prospect, but now I'm totally gonna let my imagination run wild.

It is unreal though, to think that one week from now I'll be somewhere in Paris. I have to clear out my fridge before that though, which involves half a packet more of minced pork, 12 sausages, the remnants of the ham (after my dastardly attack on those swines this past night) 5 slices of smoked bacon, 2 bagels and possibly the contents of my freezer as well. I highly doubt I'm un-lazy enough to cook so much before leaving though haha.

I think.. I have nothing much else to add. I'm going to play some intense dota HAHA. And trudge over to the uni to hand in my work in case I fall asleep and miss my deadline. I would be very very cross with myself if I allowed that to happen. So. Ta-ta YESSAHBOMB!

The Coward At Midnight.

I'm doing my essay and I'm dying I've not been so frustrated in a long time and I think I crave someone to talk to I wish I had someone to share my misery with but the awful fact is that no, I don't have anyone. I'd like to laugh at someone else's jokes or for them to laugh at my silliness and just shoot shit off and exchange nonsense and witticisms so that I can relieve some of my boredom and stress. I can't remember when I've last felt so futilely pathetic haha.

I heard a song called Midnight Cowards so I started wondering whether people get more or less courageous as it approaches midnight. I mean if you're afraid of ghosts or something then clearly you'd get more scared. But it seems to me that some other things get easier to do the darker it gets. Maybe some things you wouldn't want the daylight to be witness to. Or things you want to have the excuse of night madness to fall back on, and say, "that wasn't really me."

It just seems to me like the things that require some form of actual courage I'd rather perform in the dead of night. The day is for the routine, the humdrum execution of our daily chores. The night is the realm of dreams and of leaps of imaginations and maybe even courage. The night is for excitement and being whisked off your feet and onto carpets which fly. The blackness of the sky is the backdrop for fantasies to come to life and for visions of unreal beauty.

It is only at midnight that the coward can delude himself sufficiently to do something he has not the courage to do.

I know, poor sunlight and daytime getting such short shrift haha, but of course they are good in their own right. I'm just not in the mood to try and write nice things about it cause I'm in a dark mood haha. Maybe I need an infusion of midnight courage myself.

Tally-ho! Onwards! (to the essay I ride, all valiant and gallant.)



P.S. Here I am awake at 3.37am probably cause I'm so scared about my impending Essay of Doom that I have no peaz of mindz. HEALP?!

Perfectly Protracted Procrastination.

I just walked home from the rain, which would have been brilliant had I been reasonably attired. But no, of course I wasn't! Reasonabledness is for l0zers please. Of course I was decked out in my deck shoes, which screams Summer! and today Sperry's: 0 Nature: 1 so my toes suffered the horriblest of collateral damage. Stupid Stubborn Singaprean w/o Socks. I wisened up and bought a pair of shoes just 2 days back, but I'm afraid it's TLx2 (too little, 2 L8) and my feet hate me already.

And I bought my shoes only cause I needed it to go with my smart outfit for a rugby christmas dinner on saturday. I thought I was looking all smart and preppy (some say smashing even) but then I turned up in my leather jacket and everyone else was wearing suits, with ties, even bow ties. Man. I hadn't looked so smart since stepping foot onto these shores and I was outclassed immediately. I was crushed. Nothing a few pints couldn't remedy though, so I patched up my self-esteem and had a blast.

I even went to the club in the uni with my housemates and had a surprisingly good time. I only went cause it was one of their birthdays and I couldn't properly refuse (my impending Essay of Doom would have been a good opt-out clause, but seriously. It doesn't bear thinking about on a saturday night. Abandoned in the recesses of one's booze-ridden mind and branded Untouchable till Monday drearily creeps around.)

Anyhow, my intended point was that in the past few days or so, I'd embarked on a (none-too-bright) shopping spree and totally spruced up my wardrobe. I've not felt so preppy since I've been here! Shame about the hair... I spoke to my sister on skype and she agreed that it "looked like shit". It's bad enough on a normal day but when it rains like it did today? A full-fledged disaster, that's what. Words cannot express my shame and horror when I peer into the mirror upon reaching home. "THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN WALKING AROUND LOOKING LIKE?! EW UGH YUX >:O"

I'm not sure if you've inferred from my activities lately that I clearly haven't done any work at all. It's true. Deeply disgusted. Absolutely abhorred. Spectacularly sick. Grotesquely gross (this is pushing the boundaries I know.) At the same time... so pleased with myself for booking my christmas holiday! So I haven't been 100% unproductive... just in the academic sense, yeah. Shipping out exactly a week from now, I am pretty damn excited hehe!

You see how I do digress. My procrastination, yes. I remember I said that I'd have to work doubly hard after returning from Portsmouth. I didn't. I said I'd start after saturday night, with the dinner out of the way. I didn't. I'm going to start it after this post, which I really intend to do, except that now that I've made such an epic resolution, I'm gonna go on and on and on and this post will probably be impossibly long. Mathematically, it might even tend to infinity. Because I'm just so unkeen to start work sighz.

And yet the truth is that I remain convinced in my ability to work under extreme stress, and in fact in my flourishing in it. A very unwise stance to take, and risky to boot. But so it is. I will forever let myself be lulled into this false sense of security and leave everything to the very last minute. More boo me!

But I'm definitely starting tonight, there's loads of research to be done and all, and I'm starting from absolutely nothing. It is going to be horrific and I know it. That's why I don't want to start! Hahaha obviously not the best argument out there is it? It is flawed and self-serving and just inherently wrong. And you know I'm just flaunting my vocabulary to stretch out this post and put it off for another minute or two... okay ten minutes tops.

Oh my group leader actually gave us all christmas cards today, how magnificently sweet of her! I don't even think I've ever received one like ever. And fed us with cookies and marshmallows and squash. Couldn't have asked for a better group leader srsly.

Okay enough trite. I'll be sufferring very greatly very shortly, so do think of me often guyz.

Stop. And Listen.

Hullo my ardent followers, it's Deluded De here yet again. Here's a super-cute link. It'll make you go awwwwwww and feel good for the rest of your day/night. I might be exaggerating a teeny ween but it is verrah cute. “When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.” – Karen, age 7

Awwwww! Don't you wish you were twinkling too! Want2havekidsNAOOOO!!!! Oh wait. That would be really wrong. It's suggestive of a certain action... OKNVM.

I don't know about you guys, but after watching the viral clip from the Bollywood movie about "The truth about women" or sth like that I decided I'd watch the whole damn thing! Hehehe. Bollywood <3s From Vasantham Central to Om Shanti Om and now this! Pyaar Ka Punchnama is the name of the movie, and a simple online search will turn it up with pretty decent english subs to boot! It was quite enjoyable actually, which is typical of any indian movie even if it doesn't say anything about how good it was. But this was good. A skewed perspective to be sure (at least I hope it's skewed, I'd be utterly depressed if it were fact) but a riot to watch. You should srsly consider watching it! (Whoever "you" are, mysterious ardent follower.)

I totally didn't mention in my post-booze post why I was boozing in the first place. I had the awesome Finnish Independence Day celebration in my flat, hosted by my awesome Finnish housemate. They did this massive baking/cooking thing and invited like 50 people over, thankfully only 30 odd showed up. And there was enough food for everyone. What a feat! Quite fun really, and lucky me got to talk a little to the other cute Finnish girl! Hehehe. Hao kai xin! But she's way older so don't worry single ladies! Hahahaha sorryz. Anyhow my point was going to be that house parties are pretty awesome, especially when you get nice people coming over for fantastic stuff like Independence Day. I'm thinking Will Smith. And aliens.

I'm quite considering starting to collect le Carré’s books. I have this tab open that says John le Carré’s The Smiley books and I can't bring myself to close it. Haha. Man, srsly irresistable. Let's see how it goes with the finances eh?

Funny how I haven't watched Apple of my Eye or whatever that chinese show everyone is going gaga about is, but I've watched an indian movie instead. Clearly not a very successful chinese. Really shows where my loyalties lie eh ws? I have this sneaky suspicion you're tempted to leave a comment, so I'm halting you before you can say "insert snide remark".

Okay I'm out of here.

The Human Paradox.

Some weighty issues on my mind. Probably the end-result of too much booze and no outlet haha. I've just sat through this nasty dispute between 2 of my flatmates.

I knew the inevitable conclusion was gonna be ugly, and yet I couldn't bring myself to interject at any point in the argument. I wanted to, but I refrained because I thought it'd hurt the sensitivities of one of the guys. Which meant allowing the argument to play out to its nasty conclusion. It was quite a ridiculous argument really, but that's beside the point maybe. Is it that in order not to fracture my relationship with my housemate, I allowed the two of them instead to ruin theirs? Isn't that really self-serving of me? Was it a lack of moral courage that kept me from speaking up? I have no idea, but I just feel a little awful because I could see exactly where their conversation was going, yet did nothing at all. Bah.

Then as I was taking a bath (to rid myself of my stinky-booze-ridden-stench of course) I was just thinking how I hope my parents are doing perfectly well without me back home. That my absence doesn't bother them one bit, and that they are as happy as before. Another part of me though, hopes that my presence back home does in fact affect them, if only to reaffirm myself of my own important role in the family. It would be nice to know that you're a vital cog in the happy running of the household. And I'm thinking: So what do I really want? And I don't think there's an answer to that. Who's to say if your selfish nature or your selfless aspirations is the stronger?

It's the same with ex-lovers (or Almost Lovers, thank you A Fine Frenzy for a more than fine song) I would imagine. You wish they'd move on, and leave the unhappiness behind, and at the same time wish they don't move on, cause you hope that you were that important to them. If that makes any sense at all. In fact, in a vindictive way you probably have this faint (hopefully; instead of intense and raging) desire that that other person is suffering without you. Or maybe that's just me hahaha. A very vengeful person is me!

Okay that's about all I have to say, I just thought I wanted to note down some of the thoughts I had on these 2 very human situations/experiences/thoughts/whatever/I/don't/know/how/to/label/this/properly, just because. I doubt animals go through such nonsense really. Humans suck. But being human.. doesn't. The Piling up of Paradoxes (paradoxi maybe, sounds way k00l3r.)

I also had a brief discussion with my flatmate on the benefits of globalisation. He's a geographer, go figure. I'd never really thought about it fully, but I think that on a personal level I like it, cause I have the opportunity to travel most anywhere in the world, watch movies from around the globe, listen to music from all corners of the earth, etc etc. But in the grander scheme of things, I think globalisation has made people less happy.

I wouldn't go so far as to say it's made people unhappy, but I have this stubborn belief that people were happier in the past. Something about the simplicity of their lives maybe? Then he asked me if it was because people now have more options than they used to, and after some thought, I said that yeah I reckon so. To which he replied that that's pretty much Marxism! Hahaha who knew I was a closet commy! I should be Chuan De Bolshevik.

Okay now that really is all, it's awfully late and I have a game tomorrow which I might or might not play in, but I've got to prep myself anyhow. Morning all.

But Everything Looks Perfect From Far Away.

If my head were a microcosm of the universe, my hair would be (a) black hole(s) (I have no idea how many it would be.) It's collapsing under its own weight. It used to be Hong Kong (think: hilly, gradients.) but now its Singapore (think: flat.) It's disturbingly pangsai-looking. Hahaha.

I've not had such long hair since sec 2 I think, nor such flatness. Like an LCD screen. I don't know how to handle it anymore, nor my conflicting emotions about it. Cut it or no?! Oh well. Sheer dogged persistence will see me through this trichologic crisis. Maybe I will emerge looking like one of the pretty J/K-pop boys sans the pretty. One always dreams.

I finished book 3 of 1Q84 last night. Massive. Can't wait to get home to my treasure trove of Murakami books! I liked the idea that it's taking us all this time for us to learn just how lonely we are, so that we can truly appreciate it when we're not.

In a rare fit of sociability (probably not sociableness, although it seems to fit better) I just spend hours chatting with my housemates. First it was a quite serious discussion with the master's student about euthanasia, which brings about with it a whole host of problems like right to life, definition of life, definition of death, abortion, Nazism, societal and cultural norms, stuff like that. Pretty heavy stuff, but I think we're both too firmly entrenched in our own camps haha.

Then we moved on to much more fun stuff like how playing with poo is normative behaviour, and it descended from there, so you can imagine it was utter nonsense. The best part was that winter in Finland next year seems to be quite a likely scenario! Reindeer, ice, snow, cottages, dogsledding. What in the world?! These are things that are almost beyond the realm of possibility, right on the fringes maybe, the very margins of likelihood. Crazy stuff man.

I watched Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy on sunday. Good acting, very atmospheric and intense, but I couldn't really understand what was going on. Seems like a second viewing is in order, or I should purchase the book. I think I'd like to know the entire backstory of Smiley and Control and co.

Okay that was all, brief interlude.

Q: How Do You Fight The Loneliness?

A: It varies from person to person, really. Some people find refuge in books, some in movies. Others still seek solace in the darkness of clubs; the frenzy of dancing. Some throw themselves at their work, some at the harsh mercies of alcohol. Some claim that certain permutations of the above work exceptionally well, alcohol and clubbing, or books and movies, or any other you might care to choose.

I find the secret lies in crying. There is nothing more cathartic, nothing purer than tears. There is nothing like crying to reconcile ourselves with the fact that we are awfully frighteningly alone. That the solitude is very real. Once you know that, it doesn't affect you any longer, not really. Then you can move on.



_______________________________________



When I get to the city
My tears will all be dry
My eyes will look so pretty
No one's gonna know I cried

Hello all! I just had these random thoughts about how to answer more properly Wilco's How To Fight The Loneliness cause I don't agree with "Just smile all the time." I think if you do that then even your smile loses all meaning and what can be sadder than a person who's lost all meaning in his/her smile? It's very much a fictional answer so don't go away thinking that I weep like a babe newborn. Not that I'm ever likely to reveal that plz. Hehe. I think I suit the enigma look.

Then I heard those lines from Dum Dum Girl's Baby Don't Go, which I thought was such a nice addition since I'm gonna go all weepy creepy.

I just came back from watching Hugo in 3D and it is marvellous. I had no idea what to expect other than Martin Scorcese doing an animated film, an absolute shocker to be sure. Then I saw Chloe Grace Moretz, Ben Kingsley, Sacha Baron Cohen, Christopher Lee, and The Boy In The Striped Pajamas. It is just stunning, and I think the extra 2.60 I paid for the 3D was well worth it. It's hard to find something so heartfelt and sincere in this cynical world anymore. And Scorcese's love for the movie industry is quite plain as well. Definitely a must watch, I should think.

I think I'm gonna have to share what my sister said to me a while back, cause I thought it was absolutely hilarious. She said: I came out here to discover myself and I discovered I am boring. Or something like that. Hahahaha. That's such a ridiculous statement. Anyhow I am glad that she finally got her butt out of her house and out of Melbourne and into Greater Australia, or at least Sydney, which is a start!

The best (maybe only) way to find yourself is to lose yourself, and you cannot accomplish that by any more satisfying means than travel. Strike out in a random direction and work things out. Get misled by lousy maps and misdirected by hapless strangers. It's a great way to really know a place/city as well, but that's secondary to your having loads of fun and many exciting adventures tramping about town. Who cares if you've seen the seedy underbelly or all the touristy sites of a place if you've thoroughly enjoyed yourself!

At least that's what I'm telling myself as I plan my Christmas getaway. It doesn't matter if I miss out this awesome city or beautiful town or wtv as long as I had a whale (hopefully sperm. as in sperm whale, not as in as long as I had a sperm. because sperm whales are big. huge.) of a time.

I'm just thinking how I miss my old playlist, the one which had Belle and Sebastian, Camera Obscura and Imogen Heap/Frou Frou in it. I think they go particularly well together. Like if I'm in a minimalistic (maybe even nihilistic) kind of mood I'd listen to The xx, Portishead, Young Marble Giants sorta stuff. Then there's the rock-out-with-your-socks-out type with RHCP, Jimmy Eat World, Arctic Monkeys, Kaiser Chiefs. And the indie-pop/rock Death Cab, Eisley, The Shins, The Rifles, TNAF kinda stuff. And so many more. Life is only barely bearable with the existence of music really.

It's such a happy occasion when you get to list out your favourite stuff (bands/music/books/smells/people/feelings/memories) cause you feel so awesome after that. Like mmm that's quite a long list, I am awesome! Any resemblance to Barney Stinson purely coincidental. I shall start watching HIMYM THE AWESOME soon. Hehehe! It's going to be LEGEN- (and I hope you like milk) -DAIRY!!!!!!

When We Leave Can We Leave Goodbyes Behind?

I'm currently listening to most delectable song ever, by Karen O. Damn sick. Click here to listen. Then click the right-facing arrow (AKA the play button) to begin falling in love. I love it when random clicking around on the internet leads you to gems like this, although I know I very well shouldn't be doing any random clicking around at all. Discipline fail.

Just wanted to share how mind-blowing Melancholia is. I think it is quite possibly the weirdest show I have ever seen. Rarely do you end a show and go: What......???? Wow. I don't even possess the words to describe the movie. It had some stunning cinematography, it was a beautiful movie that's for sure. But anything other than that.. I don't know man. Watching Kirsten Dunst makes me wanna watch The Virgin Suicides again though.

And I watched Never Let Me Go as well. I thought the school scenes were inadequate but the second half was really good. Especially that scene with Tommy outside the car, even though I knew it was coming. But that was moving. I didn't like Keira Knightley much though, her face seemed to be twisted half the time and it just looked so wrong to me :/

I just watched Wall Street to prep myself for Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps cause I'm trying to watch all the films with Carey Mulligan in it hehe. I'm considering re-watching An Education as well. In case I was unfairly distracted the first time hehe.

I'm probably gonna watch Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy on Sunday at the brilliant Campus Cinema. Oh no more random clickings just led me to the news that Ben Gibbard and Zooey Deschanel are gonna get divorced. Whyyyyyyyyne. I thought it'd be one of those perfect marriages of awesome people, much like Jonathan Safran Foer and Nicole Krauss. Depressing stuff haha.

I had occasion to think about it recently (my friend was talking about some study he had to research about) and I was just wondering: am I a narcissist? (Weird question to be asking oneself really) And I'm not sure really. Haha. But maybe you could argue that blogging, or writing stories, is a manifestation of that narcissism. Oh whatever haha.

I don't think I'll be posting any of my stories anymore. Maybe it's taking a leaf out of Tommy's book (in Never Let Me Go) and building up a collection in case I ever need to apply for a deferral haha oh wtv. But it's just.. I don't know what I'm doing with them anyway. What I'm seeking to gain out of them. Praise? Approval? Unlikely. They don't matter to anyone else other than me, so I should probably not inflict them upon others haha. If I could write something like the 6th Burrough (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, one of my favourite short stories of all time) though it'd be a whole different ball game!

When I was a young wee boy I used to wonder whether I could be a writer, seemed like a pretty cushy job to me! Seaside residence, drink in one hand typewriter in the other. The only homework involved being reading books. What a dream job! Haha. Now if I think about it though, I don't think I could ever be a writer. Talent notwithstanding, it's the idea of publishing a book and exposing yourself and letting the whole world critique it. What if you think it was the most amazing piece of work you could have done but the reviews say "pretty average" or "absolute tosh" or something? I think your self-esteem would be smashed really, and you'd never ever write ever again! Maybe that's why people have pen-names so at least they wouldn't ruin their whole lives haha.

No big loss anywayz. Anyway I'm listening to the Canadian duo Tegan and Sara (yeah it's not just Nickelback and Avril Lavigne from the Great White North! There's Robin Sherbatsky as well. So there.) and I thought this line was quite nice "Maybe you could have been something I was good at." or something like that.

All we ever wanted was everything.
All we ever got was cold.

Heard a cover by MGMT of Bauhaus' All We Ever Wanted Was Everything. Amazing lines eh? And here's a little mystery, cause everyone loves mysteries. 156, 405, 505. What do these numbers have in common??? They are awesome songs, by Mew, Death Cab and Ze Arctic Monkeys respectively. Why are numbered songs so amazing?! A mystery indeed.

Apparently I have to learn french if I am to be spoken to at all in France. Apparently they ignore pure-english speakers cause they hate the country I'm in. Uh oh. I can't hardly do chinese even......... Bonjour! Oui! 什么?!?!?! Yeah. That's how I project my conversations to go :(

Okay I think that's all for today! Au revoir (the actual pronunciation of it stunned me for a short while.) Same with salut. I can imagine great difficulties lie ahead. :(

And So It Is, The Shorter Story.

I woke up today singing those words in my head. And then I slept. When I woke up again this song was still playing in my mind. So the first thing I did upon leaving the warm sanctuary that is my bed was to go on youtube and listen to The Blower's Daughter. Simply amazing. I have no idea why or how this happened though, I haven't heard the song since watching Closer, which has got to be many many months ago now.

Maybe it was reading When We Were Orphans by Kazuo Ishiguro. Something about the understated emotions perhaps. Maybe not as good as Never Let Me Go, but life invariably sucks if you go around comparing stuff all the time, so let's not do that. It was nonetheless quite a good read. Japanese fiction writers are da best. I snapped up 1Q84 as soon as I saw it in the bookstore, and it ably accompanied me to Portsmouth and back :D

I'd slept only about an hour prior to leaving on the train (no thanks to an ill-conceived idea to start reading 1Q84 that very night) and barely slept on the train(s) for fear that I'd miss my stops. Mini-catnaps (kittenaps™ probably. so clever it deserves a trademark.) When I arrived I was like, meh, where is my hostel, where is the venue, I am so lostzomg. And wandered around aimlessly, thinking, this sux. Until I decided to eat breakfast. The wonders of a hot meal can never be overstated. Instantly rejuvenated, I struck out with vim and vigour and verve (the traditional v and v just doesn't cut it, I had something extra.) So travelling tip #1, always satisfy your poor tummy before making a judgment on wherever it is you are!

I must say I was expecting something of a dump, prior to actually going there. Maybe something to do with Portsmouth FC's prowess (or lack thereof), which I certainly realize is not a very good gauge at all of how nice a city should be. But I hadn't really heard anything nice at all about the place. Boy was I pleasantly surprised! Say what you want about cheap thrills, but lowered expectations work magik indeed.

Right on the seaside, historic naval base, home of Charles Dickens, long long strips of beaches, when all I expected was a squalid town of rubbish. Okay maybe not as bad as that. I was chatting with the owner of a bookshop and her friend though, and apparently Portsmouth is quite nasty afterall! Bike theft capital of the world (or so they say) and unfriendly people (which I think is somewhat true, through my limited experience with the locals). Well. Nothing you can't remedy with a tirp to the Rose Gardens!

I was just walking around, largely along the coast, for hours on end, had to be close to 8 hours probably. Along the way there was this girl (which self-respecting narrative would have no romantic figure?) whom I spoke to not at all. She was ambling about too, camera in hand, so I surmised she was a tourist travelling alone as well. I guess sometimes you just want to reach out to people whom you think are like you. People who share the same circumstances, people who'd understand. Well we pretty much walked together (by that I mean within 20m of each other, not that there was any agreement that we were walking together) for almost and hour maybe. And then I decided to walk another route in case she thought I was stalking her or something, I admittedly could have been a little creepy, if she were the mega-paranoid sort. Or maybe it was just because she looked like a character on House that I took special notice of her, haha.

And then I was hovering around the concert venue, scoping out the place a few hours before it was due to start, when I am 80% sure I saw The Naked And Famous walk past me and into the building. At first I was thinking, Asian girl with 3 angmohs? Not a very common sight. A few steps later I suddenly thought: zomg, is that TNAF IN THE FLESH?! I'm pretty sure it was, hehe. Starstruckz.

The opening act opened an hour late, so there was alot of lame sitting on your hands waiting. But I cleverly decided to stand right in front of the speakers, so as soon as the first note was struck I'd wake up 500%. I think they were called Post War Years, and they didn't disappoint, even factoring in the one hour wait. But then ofc we were all waiting for TNAF and when they came out we went WOOooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOooooo!!!!

I liked that they played the stuff from their EPs like Spies Spies Spies and Birds etc, instead of just everything from Passive Me Aggressive You. But the most awesome parts of the night was definitely shouting out just that, "PASSIVE ME AGGRESSIVE YOU" midway through All Of This, and the amazing Girls Like You. Sick stuff man. I bought a poster and I can't help grinning everything I look at it now (Y).

On the subject of posters, I bought 2 more from a sale in school. One was a map, because you can't have any pride as a mariner if you don't possess at least one, and the other was this amazing poster of the Eiffel Tower.

Nochoicebut2buy.

I thought it'd be the best reminder to start my travel planning/booking ever. I'm sure you agree, no?! I wake up to this picture everyday now, cause it's right by my bed. (Y) Makes waking up that much more bearable.

Anyhow, I thought I should add a bit about all the benches at Portsmouth. Each of them was dedicated to the memory of someone who'd passed away. And they'd have stuff like "This was his favourite spot." or "From Mom, to the many happy hours spent here together." on the little plaques. It was pretty heartbreaking to see, and strangely enough, a little uplifting as well. Sobering and uplifting, a strange a combo as any. Maybe it's something about the things people do to remember a loved one. The ability to mourn and grieve. The human spirit is not as far gone as many people like to think in this modern cynical desensitized world.

That, and reading When We Were Orphans made me realize how I could be so much better to my parents. When they think of me, do they think of the good stuff or does the bad outweigh all that? Have I given them cause to think fondly of me? When they look back, will they say that I have been worth their effort, and their tears? I hope so. But that's not the end of it, there's still time yet to set things right, hopefully an awful lot more time.

Can't wait to come across Remains of the Day. It isn't quite as fun to purchase stuff online, it's so much more awesome to hold the book in your hands in awe and happiness at a random bookshop you stumble into. I bought When We Were Orphans for 1 quid at the secondhand bookshop with the nice owner. I also bought The Princess Bride and Lord of the Flies (which I can't quite imagine how I have never read before.) I wanted to buy Battle Royale but the only copy the shop had was in a bad state.

So I'm gonna watch Never Let Me Go at long last, cause after watching Drive last week and reading Ishiguro this, I would really be letting myself down if I didn't watch it.

Anyway I have resolved to start working extra hard, on account of all the $$$$ I have spent over the past week. I didn't think I'd spend so much travelling, stupidly forgetting that when I was away I'd have to eat out every meal which really isn't cheap at all. And posters don't come free either. And books. I know I'm doing things in the wrongest way possible, most people indulge in retail therapy only upon the completion of schoolwork, while I chose to reward myself before doing anything at all! Can't be a very good plan, seeing as I haven't done anything of note since returning from Portsmouth hehe. And we all know how new year resolutions work out, or at least how mine do. They don't.

Okay, on that depressing note I end.

It's Not Make-Believe If You Believe.

Hi guys. I'm heading down to portsmouth in the wee hours of the morning tmr and I am quite excited!! The Naked And Famous rox my sox. I think I have to start revising their songs now! :D So I really should get to sleep early, but I think I might start on 1Q84 now. New Murakami book + TNAF, bezt dayz of my lifez.

Hehe I know TMI (too much information) but I am srsly letting rip some MASSIVE farts!! (Who can resist reminiscing the Beyblade "Let it rip!!!" series.) Must be that chicken tikka masala I made just now. Shocking stuff ey?! It wasn't all that difficult, since I bought the sauce all readymade, just had to prepare the chicken and tomatoes and onions (you get my drift, the drift of all the noxious smelly gas particles) which considering I'd never diced a chicken thigh before last week, is still quite the achievement!

And I had pan-fried mushrooms on bagel for lunch. Such posh-ness has got to be unnatural.. My flatmate took me out grocery shopping on saturday, hence all this amazing sounding food. I even made fish and chips one night. Never thought I'd ever feel so empowered in my life. Don't need a wife no more!! Hehe kidding.

I finished reading Inheritance, the last of the Eragon series yesterday. When I started it I was quite appalled at the style of writing, that bit recapping the going-ons of the previous books. Made me really conscious of the fact that he'd started writing the books at like 15 or sth (I cringed). But thankfully it got better after that and it was quite a good read after all. I really really want to read Robert Jordan again though! Too bad I left them all back home sigh.

I watched Drive the other night and throughout the movie I was just thinking: Carey Mulligan! I couldn't help myself really, which is probably the definition of obsession. Ryan Gosling was good as well though. It was a good movie, probably worth another watch some other time, although not at all what I expected of it. Shall watch Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy as well, but maybe I should go read the book first before I do. It's John le Carre after all.

Okay I shall stop here so that I can start reading my book and hopefully drift of to sleep early so I can wake at 5am zomgosh. Can you whisper? Run, whirlwind run. Passive me, aggressive you!

The Day They Took Our Hearts Away.

When I was a child I used to fall asleep against my father’s chest, the regular, rhythmic beat of what I thought was his heart lulling me to sleep. I thought it the most comforting sound in the whole world, and I would sleep soundly, knowing that I was safe and snug and secure. Now I’m terrified by the memory of that sound. It makes me sick.

The ceremony was to be performed tomorrow, and I was one of the five who would be subjected to it. They say it is to celebrate our coming-of-age, but I know better. I know what goes on in the House. Every year the girls and boys who’d seen 18 summers would enter that House and emerge as men and women, finally being part of the System.

The System ran everything around here. It created an ideal world. The System knew everything about everyone in it, and what it did was match stuff together. The men and women who were the most compatible were allocated to each other, producing maximum happiness and minimum domestic violence. Jobs were assigned to the people who were best suited to them, resulting in great efficiency and productivity. Those who were neither compatible nor capable were sent to sleep.

This was the fate for those disabled in accidents, or pets who had grown too old. Or those who had fallen too gravely ill, be it persons or pets. These were solutions to the mistakes of the past. In school we listened in horror as our teachers told us stories of how infectious diseases wiped out thousands upon thousands of people. This was mind-boggling stuff; we couldn’t grasp the concept of thousands of people living in close enough proximity to die of each other’s sicknesses, let alone allowing those infected to walk freely amongst them.

Our teachers told us about the enormous drain on resources old and disabled people represented. They told us what to do when (assuming we were lucky enough to be spared by disease and disability) our fiftieth summer came: enter the door at the back of the House and sleep. They liked to say that you only entered the House twice: Once at your “birth” (into adulthood that was) and once at your death. They sounded both like deaths to me.

“Jean, we can’t do this. We have to run away from this place!” Jean was the best and only friend I had. We had grown up and somehow managed to stick together despite our different backgrounds. My parents were doctors while her family ran the store. The System generally frowns upon people from different classes mingling with each other, but since we were merely children we were allowed to get away with it.

“I don’t know Henry. Where would we go? What would we do? We can’t just leave everything and everyone behind like that...” One day we had been out in the fields when we decided to take a break, and just lay down on the grass. I was busy trying to make out the shapes in the clouds when she put her head on my chest. I was startled and my mouth had suddenly turned curiously dry and my heart started thumping much too loudly, I was sure. I decided to keep silent and perfectly still, just in case the slightest movement would dislodge her. I became very conscious of my breathing and prayed I wouldn’t hyperventilate. I didn’t want to give myself away.

“Well… I don’t know. Away. That’s all that matters. Who is this ‘everyone ‘ you’re talking about anyway? Your family? What we have between us is… different, are you just gonna give it up like that?” After a few moments, she lifted her head with a quizzical look on her face. Oh damn it, I thought, I screwed up, I knew I would. Then she said “Your heartbeat, it’s different. It isn’t the same as my parents’.”

“What do you mean different? You always say that. I don’t know what you mean when you say that.” So I had to put my head on her chest, to determine if it was just me. It wasn’t. I cast my mind back to the memories of my father’s heartbeat. And then I knew. His had been too regular, its rhythm lacked humanity. It was mechanical.

“I… I don’t know.” When we were very young, we had this one day where we were to show our form teacher our appreciation for her. We were very excited about it and had made elaborate preparations for it. As the end of class approached, the cake was wheeled out and we leapt out of our seats and shouted “We love you Miss Fritz!” She recoiled as if struck a blow. She gaped for a bit and then decided anger was probably the best response. “Never say that word again. Never.” And there she stood, in her murderous rage while maintaining the stoniest of silences, until the bell rang.

“You don’t know? Hah. I don’t know what I was expecting of you, but it was definitely better than that. For all your grand notions you’re surprisingly empty. You’re just another scared kid.” We didn’t talk about it afterwards. We never did. All of us were so deeply shamed by the episode that it had become as much of a taboo as the word itself. It had scared and scarred us and we would never forget the lesson we learnt that day. And no matter how inadequate the words remaining in our vocabularies seemed we never could bring ourselves to say it again. It is funny how one forbidden word can create such a gaping hole in our ability to describe what we feel.

“Don’t do this, please. I’m scared, you’re scared. We’re all scared. But at least we have each other. We can face our fears together, everything will be alright. You have to trust me. I’ll see you by the fields at four in the morning. Don’t worry, okay?” She didn’t answer. I made my way home. The reality of my leaving this place forever didn’t set in until I started packing. It is weird to consider which of your possessions are necessary for survival. Necessary means one thing when you’re at home and your only worries are either about school or girls. It takes on a whole new meaning when you’re wondering how to survive the next few days, and more, out on your own where the things we hold dear, like money or fancy clothes, are worth nothing.

I was wracked with doubts all night. Would we be able to last more than a few days? Could we have a life outside of the place we had called home all our lives? Would we be happier than if we stayed? Would she be there?

I struggled to stay awake. It’s always the times when you desperately want not to sleep that it sneaks up on you and takes hold of you just like that. You’re asleep without even knowing it. So I paced around in the dark, making sure I was deadly quiet while doing so. I double and triple checked the contents of my bag. I looked around me to ensure I wouldn’t leave anything essential behind. In the throes of a restless night like this, it is a comfort to know that the relentless march of time never stops, no matter how slow it might seem to be creeping along. It’s still ticking away, draw strength from that.

And then it was time to leave. The night air seemed to have a sharp taste in my mouth. The glow of the streetlamps seemed to have an otherworldly tinge to it. There was a sort of desperate clarity to everything, as if my brain were highlighting what I was leaving behind in a last-ditch attempt to stop me.

“Henry.” My heart soared, the last flight it would ever take, though I didn’t know it yet. “I can’t do it. I can’t forsake everything I’ve got here to go on this wild adventure with you. This is ridiculous, it’s madness.” I think I had always known what her answer would be, although her appearance here, now, had given me something that was almost hope.

“Hah. And you called me scared? Look at you. Terrified of the unknown. Clinging on to the familiar just because that’s all you’ve ever known. You’re gonna let them rip your heart out just because you’re afraid. You... you’re just like the rest of them. You make me sick.” I turned away from her and stared into the field and tried to hold back my tears. I didn’t know how to be angry and cry at the same time.

“Let them rip my heart out? No, Henry, that’s what you just did.” And she walked away. I still didn’t turn around. I wanted very badly not to care, but I did. I wanted to turn around and chase after her and tell her not to go and that I wish we could be back on that field and feel her head resting against me again. I wanted to shout “I love you” at her departing figure but even then, even right at the end, I couldn’t.

I stood there, shaking in my futile anger. Anger at myself, at Jean, at the whole damned System. It felt like there was a lump at the back of my throat and it was like there was something with clammy hands holding my heart in its grip.

I swallowed to clear the constriction in my throat. I took a step forward. I stopped. I couldn’t do it. Not alone. I turned around and I started walking. To the House.

_________________________________________________

Okay that took me 2 whole long sittings to finish. I always wanted to write about people having their hearts removed so that they would no longer be able to love. I didn't know what form it'd take and I certainly didn't expect it to be like this, but I am quite happy with it! I started that first bit of dialogue today and by some magic inspiration decided to go with a sort of flashback kind of sequence, and I thought that worked out pretty well.

I think it's quite obvious the difference in styles from the first half and the second, the first bit looks pretty boring actually haha. If I had tried to finish it the first time around I'm sure it would have ended up alot worse than this. I'd have tried to squeeze in various explanations here and there, and it would probably have been mostly ill-fitting. This way, I got to dabble with a few other themes as well, which I like to do.

There's that little bit about class and social inequality. The System would never have allowed them to stay together. The liquid nature of necessity. The way our fear of the unknown makes us accept the mundane. The contrarian nature of sleep (hehe). How people say painful words they sometimes don't even mean, but never retract them nonetheless. How our fears stop us from saying the most important things. In the story it was fear of the System, in the form of the teacher. In real life it may be the fear of rejection, or maybe non-reciprocity.

I quite enjoyed writing this really. Especially the flashback bits where I tried to fit the memories with what was actually being said, like a jigsaw puzzle. A pleasing sort of symmetry, if only to me!

I don't know if Henry goes back to the House to go through with the operation or if he enters the back door to die. The best thing (I think) would have been for him to still runaway but I didn't think that was at all likely. The next best thing then would be for him to actually die rather than accept the operation, cause that's the worst death of all. A life dictated by a computer system. A life without passions or love.

The whole story is actually heavily inspired by a series called "The Tripods". The original idea about heart removal was my own but the setting and the coming-of-age ceremony etc. was pretty much stolen from the series. The names Henry, Fritz, and Jean(-Paul in the Tripods) are a tribute to the books. It's an amazing children/young persons series and I remember almost crying while reading the last scene with Henry hehe. That's why he gets to be the protagonist.

That episode with the teacher, however, I think has its roots in Never Let Me Go. Something about the oppressive environment of the school or sth.

One thing I regret with the story is that the House isn't quite as ominous as I wanted it to be. It's supposed to have a very dark feel and exert its influence a bit more, so that that last line would be much more effective. Oh wells. But I don't know how I'm supposed to do it and I'm not keen on reworking that whole first half just because I think it sucks compared to the second. If this was a movie then it could be this omnipresent feature in the background or sth eh? Can't word-ify that without being painfully obvious about it though, it has to be a subtle thing..

Anyhow. All in all a satisfactory literary experience for me, I hope it was that to you as well. Pretty long too, running into 4 pages of my Word document, my word! The word count trumps that of my essay by more than 2x (1635 vs 682) wts, so I reckon I need to be ALOT more hardworking doing my schoolwork hehe.

Time for a short nap (at 8.30 in the morning, yes) before dreaded school later. I think my body is very confused when I sleep any earlier than 1 or 2 in the morning, and thinks I'm just taking a nap instead. Slept at 9.30 and woke up at 2.30 sigh. Which means I've been awake for 6 hours and so a faux/pseudo-midday nap is definitely justified!

I'd ask for some feedback (cause I haven't felt quite so good about a story in a while) but I'm a little reluctant as well (cause I haven't felt quite so good about a story in a while, so what would that signify if I received negative ones!) so... wtv I'm off to sleep now!

The Happiness In Misery.

I had rugby training just now and I barely made it home. It was raining. The wind was blowing. I was vibrating. If you could combine receiving a call and a text msg and a whatsapp notification and BBM and twitter + fb update and and and ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Maybe it'd be what you get if you watch a palm tree lazily swaying in the strong tropical wind at 5000x acceleration. Brr brr teeth chatter brr brr legs shake brr brr.

At least when I was still in training I had something else to focus on, like unclenching my fists to catch the ball. It was on the way home that I started thinking: Oh my head I am absolutely miserable. I can barely feel my toes, my fingers are warped and stuck in the same positions, I have mud all over my body (and I realized later, on my face as well), I look like a hobo, and my hair looks like pangsai. That was the clincher man.

And I realized I was feeling very cheery about all that misery. What a paradox eh, I am such an exponent of puzzles and enigmas (maybe enigmae a la amoeba/e, think about it: Have you ever seen enigma's plural form??? A new mystery, that.) So I was thinking about it, by all accounts I should be feeling ratty and miserable, perhaps even on the verge of tears (I'm sure someone of a fainter heart/weaker constitution would have wept, it was that bad.) but there I was feeling all happy and cheerful and laughing to myself. I reckon misery is brilliant if you know it can't last.

Probably at the back of my head (cause the front was filled with dire thoughts i.e. how not to die) I knew I was going home to a bloody hot bath, and I could whip up a hot meal and luxuriate in the comfort of my heated room. So my misery only served to amuse me. But this theory doesn't hold water when I apply it to stuff like MIDS and MSTD and I kept trying to reassure myself that, it's only 6 weeks, we'll be back in Singapore soon! but somehow I still felt proper miserable haha. Perhaps by then I was already deadened and pissed off with the world at large. What memories eh?

But it's probably a useful skill to be able to be jovial and laugh at your own misery yeah? Then at least there's happy misery in addition to proper miserable misery, so the actual suffering involved is halved (assuming ofc that misery is split between the two equally, which is quite unfounded really.) Pretty good hey.

Anyhow I think all those old finger injuries are rearing their injured heads at me now. While I was freezing my posterior out on the pitch my fingers just seemed to be cramped or sth, and it was quite painful to move them about. Even now I can feel the discomfort when I wiggle my fingers. But spending >30mins in the shower is such bliss srsly, everyone should have a jaunt in the cold November rain just to experience such pure unadulterated bliss. Just Like Heaven. Feels like Para-para-paradise. Woooooaaaah ohhhhhhh.

I am a Rhymocerous
English is my thing
I can't use the abacus
But give me words and I am king!

Okay I actually want to continue but I ran out of ideas hehe. I saw this 'rhymocerous' or sth in my old BMT sergeant's fb status and I had a little laugh so I thought I'd try to construct a rhyme. None too successful though. In my defence, I did have a massive dinner cause shivering consumes a surprising amount of energy and I am definitely feeling the effects :( Brainpower approximately that of a horseshoe now.

I unfortunately have some work to do but my inner lazy self (so big it barely fits the term inner-self) is coaxing me to leave it for tmr. I am slightly afraid I'll fall sick after the tribulations of today, so maybe I should hit the sack early eh? Hehe lazychuan claims yet another glorious lazy victory. Although I do sort of feel like I have to puke, while not actually nauseous. Does that even make sense in any way? I just think I'd feel better if I had a little puke, which sounds, creepily enough, like the onset of bulimia instead of flu hahaha. Pretty nasty sensations in my stomach now though. I knew my cooking was going to cause me no small amount suffering sigh.

Okay time2lick my wounds and sulk a little bit. Laters.

Whistle For The Choir.

Hullo my new favourite song in a long long list of favourite songs hehe. Whistle For The Choir by The Fratellis. I heard a lady busker singing Portishead just now (Glorybox, "Give me a reason to love you") so I had no choice but to give her all the money I had, 1 quid. Was supposed to be for the laundry, that coin.

I also got ripped off for dinner. Nasal money for sandwiches and a beer. That teaches me a thing or two about being too lazy to cook, more fool me. And I went on amazon and ordered the 4th book in the Inheritance "trilogy", more famously known as the Eragon books. 9 quid for a hardcover book, not too bad I guess. I would have caught a movie if there were anything worth watching, but there wasn't, with the exception of perhaps tintin. Don't really think I want to spend $ (or £) watching it though. Tower Heist isn't on till tuesday sigh.

I watched a few movies yesterday. There was Sideways, which taught me alot more about wines than I think I ever need to know, but was nonetheless very good. Don't think I've ever seen anything by Paul Giamatti prior to this. I watched Clerks. which I unfortunately have to conclude is probably a tad overrated. I kept coming across it in must-watch comedy lists or somesuch. Which brings me to the third movie, In The Loop, which was an absolute cracker. I burst out laughing at the "Ron Weasley" part. That's what I call vulgar pleasures. Makes me feel like watching it again really.

Next two movies on the list are Breakfast at Tiffany's and Into The Wild, which I never knew was Sean Penn directed. Always reminds me of Mystic River that. Then A History of Violence (starring Aragorn son of Arathorn son of Isildur son of Elendil. Don't mess with a LOTR buff.) And maybe Topsy Turvy as well. I'm heartened to see Superbad on the list though, it's so life-changing that everytime I'm a little sad I just have to think of McLovin'..

So if you're lonely why'd you say you're not lonely?

 

The Base Of A Dream Is Empty.

I can't seem to want to go to sleep. Sleep is my jilted ex-lover. I was head-over-heels though, given that I woke up only at like 2pm today hehe. What a bum.

I haven't done anything today but indulge in movies. I'm making my way up empireonline's top 500 films, and I've watched Brick (Joseph Gordon Levitt in high school noir, what more could you ask for) and Superman Returns thus far. The appearance of Breakfast at Tiffany's on the list (not surprising) is perhaps the final push I need to finally watch it.

I also watched Christopher Nolan's Following. You can really see how he's developed his style from that to Memento. Pretty good and truly noir. Black and white films are none too common nowsadays eh? I think I really should watch Batman Begins soon, an obviously missing link in my Christopher Nolan quest.

Had movie night with my flatmates just now, an old movie called The Mission from 1986. Robert De Niro and Jeremy Iron and a quite young Liam Neeson too. Quite an epic, makes you wonder how people can commit atrocities like that, just like that. Although a quick peek at the history books would tell you that yes, they most definitely can.

Okay I'm gonna try and lure sleep back into bed (saucy!) so byebye *sexywink*

Okay I admit I failed. Clearly nowhere near sexy enough, despite the hotbodz :( I'll ramble on for a little while before resuming my movie madness.

I was talking to my flatmate just now and somehow we ended up talking about life experiences and stuff. It seems like most everyone says living and experiencing life is more important than possesions and wealth, but why is it that that's not what seems to be happening with the people around us? On the paper chase and the money trail, yuck. I hope I don't end up that way.

That's how I'm justifying hoing to watch The Naked and Famous at Portsmouth 2 weeks from now!! Hehehe. Took me all of 5mins to decide to do it and book the ticket, the trains to and fro, and the hostel since I'm gonna have to stay overnight. Y no midnight train :( I agonized over the decision for days, but once I'd decided I was gonna go it was a matter of minutes to finalize everything.

That's how it always works out with decisions. The truth is, it takes very little for us to make changes to our lives. It's really a very fine line between yes and no. Yes, I will go to that concert. No, I will not give you a chance. Our whole lives hinge on that fine line. It's scary.

So I've decided I shouldn't be so hung up over money matters. Although of course I'm a student, and monetary woes are a mainstay of student life. But I'm thinking... Phantom of the Opera in London?! Fancy that! Whoa. Keep the jealousy down plz. It's only a maybe.. but with every passing moment I'm considering the notion much more seriously. Hehe.

Unfortunately I haven't received an invite from either of my Finnish flatmates to visit during Christmas :( Haha the devious plan to exploit them to see the northern lights clearly hasn't come to fruition sigh. No choice but to spring an unwanted visit on their unsuspecting selves next year lah. "In the name of friendship, take me to the lights!" They won't stand a chance against my (future) pestering.

Although the tentative plan is Germany and at least Florence next Christmas if Basil will be there. And the US for Christmas 2013, also if Basil is there. It's quite gay that I'm basing my holiday plans on him isn't it. But that's just the excuse I need to visit Canada, and I'm pretty certain they get the northern lights as well.. Although I have this weird impression that they're a strictly Scandinavian thing. But surely the Russkies get it too (it'd be terribly depressing otherwise, all that cold and none of the sights!), so I must be wrong about the Scandinavian thing.

I really don't know why I'm not going to sleep. It's 6am now. Bummer. I'm going to reset my body clock by going without sleep I guess. It always fails when I sneakily decide to take a nap at like 5pm and wake up at 11. Then it becomes even more messed up, but if you repeat that a few more times... it stands to reason that one of those times will result in a righted biological clock! Or it might become permanently messive (massively messy that is) and I'll spend alternate days nocturnal and whatever-the-damn-the-opposite-of-nocturnal-is (I won't even pretend to know it haha.)

I'm halfway through writing a story now. But as is always the case when I reach the middle I am hopelessly lost. I usually start with a brilliant end in mind, and I try to make the beginning of each story as brilliant as possible. It's always the middle that stymies me. Like major stumbling block. I never know how to properly get my story to its brilliant end, and in the end I usually just putter about aimlessly, sometimes trying too hard, sometimes not doing anything at all. In the famous words of Me some time back, I am "bumbling about in the forest." Hopelessly lost.

That's what happened with pretty much all of my secondary school essays I think. I start of with this amazing idea, I wrack my brain for the perfect ending with a twist, and then proceed to fill up the middle with barely bearable rubbish. I miss secondary school essays though. Those one worders like - Flight, or Heat, or something. They were such fun to do. Then we graduated on to GP. 'Nuff said. Miserable stuff. GP was a trainwreck on the highway to hell.

Oh I didn't mention that my Finnish flatmates made a Finnish dinner which I couldn't help but finish (you know you saw this pun coming.) It was salmon cooked in the oven with like idk, a slice of heaven or sth. It was so flavourful and juicy and tender and just.. just.. magnifique! I wonder if I could whip up some char kway teow or sth for them haha. Or maybe it'd be a disaster (like my last fried rice) and put them off Singapore foreva. What a dilemma!

Okay I'm pretty sure this post-script is longer than the actual post was (oh that makes it post-post-script!:) so I shall end here. No fancy good-bye this time like ciao or ta-ta or adios or hasta la vista or something. This is it.

Like A Vulture In A Wasteland.

It takes a special genius to set an alarm on the laptop and leave the earpiece plugged in. The bloody alarm was beeping through the earpiece so frantically for more than an hour before I finally noticed it, so tiny was the sound. Woke up at 12:10 and by 12:30 I had left the house, after eating breakfast, taking a quick hot shower, and packing my stuff for the match. Pretty rapid eh?

An hour's drive down all the way down to Plymouth and I only played less than 10mins, spending the rest of the time freezing my ass off in my short shorts and short-sleeved shirt as the friggin' wind just buffeted the pitch. I need track pants and a sports jumper. And I think my legs are like icicles sticking out of my hips, so slow do I run. My one touch of the ball I got tackled by this big tall guy whom I had been certain I would outrun. Bummer. Too lazy to work on my sprints though. But I was shaking like a shaker fry out there, in the aftermath of rain. Proper november days we're getting now, all cold and chilly, but not unpleasant as of yet.

Celebrated my housemates birthday today at the Bella Italia. Sounds posh no? I was craving for some steak (after it appeared in the most awesome book I read yesterday) cause I realized I hadn't eaten a proper slab of beef since setting foot upon these shores. Good choice, whatwith the 50% off voucher to boot. And I had a dessert called The Godfather. Dramatic much! It was indeed quite epic though, Don Corleone would have approved.

Such sin does not however, go unpunished. I came home and laosai'd. I forgot to mention I had a slice of the birthday cake as well. Gluttony will be the death of me. Or maybe sloth? Perhaps wrath. zomg. De7an pls. (Srsly though that looks cool doesn't it! Hahahaha.) If you don't get me though, do watch Se7en, only one of the bestest movies EVER. Brad Pitt, Morgan Freeman, Kevin Spacey, and even Gwyneth Paltrow! (never thought much of her really, just another famous name, but after Shakespeare In Love I think she's not too bad)

The awesome book I read is titled The Sisters Brothers. It's a western, set in the Gold Rush of the 1800s. I embarked upon it late last night as I wanted to sleep, and what better way than to stare at little words assembled on little pages while in the amazing comfort of your bed right? Wrong. I couldn't put the book down and midway through it I marvelled to myself: Wow, this book is brilliant innit? Then continued reading. All done in one sitting. Strangely funny, for I hadn't expected something quite so humorous from something on the shortlist for the Man Booker prize (usually expect serious stuff that's heavy going and deep and profound on so many levels, no?)

Now I have no more books left though. Time for a visit to the bookshop soon, but I suspect I should make myself work for it. I'll try to put in a few more hours of study first sigh.

Time2Slip. I should start planning my christmas break out too huh. Good night whirl. (world)

P.s. I just have to add on cause I chanced upon the article which said that Singaporean women wouldn't date shorter men. That's outrageous and upsetting :( Not say we don't want to be tall.. Anyway if anything they should be amazed at how we manage to fit so much goodness into such small frames HAHA. And I mean, why would anyone want to resemble a BRONTOSAURUS?!?! (Click here for image) Yes, I'm talking about you woonshin. Albeit a Very Dashing one indeed. (I did warn you about impending war.) Ta then.

A Man With Such A Wistful Eye.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.

 -From the prison writings of Oscar Wilde

I never knew how The Portrait of Dorian Gray was such a portrait for Oscar Wilde's life. Or at least that's what I'm thinking after reading about his life and how he was charged for homosexuality or somesuch. He possesses such amazing wit and ability to write. I just saw one of his quotes the other day, in some shopfront "The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about." Or something like that. Some people say wit is the highest form of intelligence, some the lowest. I like to think it's pretty high up there, haha.

I've been watching House again, and I'm almost finished with season 6 now. And somehow 13 seems to be prettier than I remember her! Olivia Wilde, of course, which in all honesty had nothing at all to do with Oscar Wilde up there. I only just realized the coincidence haha.

The ba kwa that I brought from singapore is keeping me alive atm. And the packets of peanuts. Verrah good when you're hooked onto a tv series and refuse to leave your room for proper food. I should stick my hand out of my window every once in a while for my vitamin D dosage perhaps, or I might get very unhealthy. Of course with a diet consisting of ba kwa and peanuts you could argue that I'm already in the pits of unhealthiness.

I did go running today though, so that erases about... 2% of the damage done in my one week of unhealthily fatal diet. Hopefully head down for some training tmr, and death will be staved off once more.

What would you sacrifice for one moment of pure happiness? Unadulterated bliss. A whole life of hit-and-miss happiness? Probably not. A year of suffering? Shame, guilt or whatevernot. Because there's always a pay-off isn't there? Nah. Don't believe that. Things like happiness should never happen on a transactional basis, there should never be a pay-off for it.

I don't know what I'm driving at. Sometimes I just want to say sorry. I don't even know what for sometimes. In the hope that it will magic things back into the land of "okay" again, perhaps. Too many mistakes over too many years to undo them all, too many even to rue them all.

Sometimes I wish I could say farewell properly. The way it deserves to be said. Maybe closure is overrated but it still sucks that I've never been able to give proper goodbyes. Instead of neat and tidy endings all you get is sad sacks of regret and sadder bits of hope. And on nights like this, these bits still glimmer faintly, like half-buried gold from the lost city of Machu Picchu.

Well lost is lost and buried is buried. Shouldn't kid myself about "half"-buried nonsense. I looked at the above paragraphs and it kind of sounds like I'm suicidal. More specifically, jumping-off-a-really-high-building kind of suicidal. You know, one moment of pure happiness etc. Too many mistakes etc. Thankfully I'm not, actually, suicidal. Or I'd be really worried about my mental well-being. Phew that.

Although the fact that I even made that connection in the first place.. might be construed as a hint on my subconscious' part to make me realize that I am, actually, suicidal. Fascinating eh? Sigmund Chuan srsly. But I'm not Austrian so I'm probably wrong. So I'm probably not suicidal. Okay! I'll stop trying to be funny here.

To reassure-plus-chop you, I did have massive ego-boozt today so depression and suicide is highly unlikely. Hahahaha. Someone (or two) said that I (and this is verbatim, I don't go for self-feel-good hahaha) "had a hot body" and that she (or they, I'm quite unclear on this) would totally date me if I only were a little taller. Hahahahaha! So I did get knocked down a few pegs there, but on the whole, hahahaha! Makez one'z dayz totallyz! That's one in the solar plexus for any might-be-depression surely!

Okay I can't help myself must share this from youtube! The Cinematic Orchestra - To Build A Home with the sound of rain!!! Tell me that isn't the most fitting accompanying background sound ever. That's why I find it's always worth scrolling through some of the comments even though there are so many imbeciles/trolls/immature idiots/mature idiots out there demeaning most forums and comment boards all over the internet.

Whichhhhhh reminds me of that poor girl who slapped/beat her poor mother or sth. Not that she's a poor girl for having done that, although maybe you could argue that there's a case for that as well, in the convoluted mess that is parental relations. Anyhow. I clicked on a link to some hardwarezone forum which I think was the root source of all the trash that's been generated over the past week or so. (I don't actually know how current this is haha.) And have you seen the responses to the original post?! "Sexpose her!" etc. My word. We have got mega retards rampant on the forum. If you have any doubt about that, check out stomp. If I'm not wrong the nest of amazingly idiotic idiots should still be there stomping around.

Not that the girl didn't do anything wrong. Clearly she has issues. But I think it sheds more light on the rest of the people out there who have only been, childishly, fanning the flames. I think the mom suffers the most from this debacle. The ignominy of having been hit by a daughter now recognized by half the people on the street. It's just ridiculous.

And it's cause of the mob effect isn't it? Or the anonymity one. Either ways it's the internet that sparked all this nonsense, so it really makes me wonder that for all the good it's done so far, maybe it's not something that should have happened. Sorry Mark Zuckerberg and your fortune.

Okay it's alot later than I expected so. I shall take a break from my epic evasion of Sleep's Minions, and curl up in a nook and cranny (aka my bed) for a brief respite, where hopefully the Minions can't find me. Okay I shall stop trying to be funny. Isn't worki- zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.