Future

“Apparent reality is not an exact science.”

You haven't seen flexibility till you've seen this:

There is a lot of talk about the future this week, "so have you thought about the courses for Uni?" ... No. Well of course I have, but nothing is definite yet right? Right. I mean, how am I supposed to make a choice between what I want to do and what I'm expected to do but also what is best for myself?

I haven't gotten round to studying much this week. And the real deal is next Monday which is also conveniently, a public holiday. Screw you, Bio.

Maybe they should be my role models. Nerd nerd nerd. Hi bio books. And maths.

Twenty Love Poems and A Song of Despair

XVIII

Here I love you
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.

The snow unfurls in dancing figures.
A silver gull slips down from the west.
Sometimes a sail. High, high stars.

Oh the black cross of a ship.
Alone
Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.
Here I love you.

Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.
The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.

The moon turns its clockwork dream.
The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

Usually when the cashiers ask me for my name, I make up another identity on the spot. A Julia, Nicole, Katherine, Liesl, maybe Deidre? I'm not sure how many names I call myself, I think I lost count (not that I've done it that many times and Starbucks is almost devoid here anyway) now. To not be me, to be a person made up; live for that second when the barista asks you for your name, you're wonderfully different and eclectic. Because Liesl is confident, Deidre is self-sufficient.... But yesterday, slip of the tongue, 'Cherie' I say and it becomes another generic fruit name. If I was a different person, I don't know if I'd still order Mango Passionfruit.

The other day I transferred a pile of stuff that lay from my daybed into the black box. And all my letters, trinklets, things that matter are there. In a vintage Christmas Edition Whitman's Sampler Christmas tin from a garage sale.

I was taking the train alone. So I started making a list about myself

phobia of missing the train
i totally have OCD when it comes to cleaning up (even my messy has to be a structured messiness)
i hate summer
i believe in... love, but i don't know if i should
i wished i live in europe
i have two biggest fears in life
i wish someone will write something for me

then all of a sudden, I become aware I'm making a list about myself and things I know about myself. The more I try to think, the less I come up with. Then I think what's the whole point of this list? Just some decifit, lacking, inconvenient pile of... personalities. I don't even see the whole reason why I started doing it, it became some sort of self-memo which is supposed to mirror me but it's not it's not it's not because i'm more than that, I say to myself. Then hopelessly, I'm trying to... detonate this self implosion when it dawns upon me that I am even more ordinary as I say I am. So the train stops at Southern Cross, I find out that the future is counted down by days now. here, now, every minute adds up to a day.

I spilled the Cappuccino foam all onto my fingers this morning for brunch. It became all sticky and sweet, slithery. Then I ate cold Chicken Tandoori wraps which I didn't finish anyway.

Note

if you think my handwriting is unbearable and completely undecipherable:

"hello everyone! I am asking everyone who reads this note to write something back. For fun, of course! Write anything you like, draw, colour, anything that pleases you. As you can see, my handwriting is the scrawny italic type, which I hate quite a lot but can do nothing about. I know people who have the most amazing set of handwriting (hint hint mich, Min....) and it's crazy how their writing turns out to be so... perfect.

(note to self: buy new stationery!)

happy writing!

have a good weekend too."

:) and to everyone I know who is going to Prom, I hope you have fun!

Waiting

wait a while more,
two hundred fifty minutes
here you are bright and clear, steer
drafted:
"so i can say 'hi baby' in the middle of the night,
keep you close, wake you up, make you
breakfast in bed,
kiss you on the
forehead,
take
your hands,
your fingers,

your heart"

Labyrinth Of Memory

If only, if only, if only what? Something is missing in this piece of room, a vital clue, a missing identity. Then I hesitate to remember that the society is just all about fame, money, glossy faces and expeditious lies to cover up even deeper lies. And I truly, deeply hate it so much eventhough I know I can't escape it because I'm a part of it.

It's like chasing time all over again. The same cycle repeats, a year passes on - October again - and last year I liked playing midnight Sudoku games because it was a creation of new fascination. It was an attachment and a catchall to disaster but there was the exhilaration and thrill, the romance and the idyllic sense of... belonging. Because then, I would've thought I had joy and understanding. At least that was a fallback, secured and fastened. I wrote about chaos and red lights, signals and morse codes, dancing in emotions. But today, my mind is bereft of all this wonder, its lost its ability to keep up to its pace, I'm slowing losing words, one by one.

The more I remember, the more I forget quickly. There was also a whiff of curiosity, but now I can't recall anything clearly. Memory doesn't operate like a time machine, it doesn't replay everything exactly as it was because we judge, we scrutinize, change events till everything is just unclogged, desperate events. As a miserable excuse, I call the past Things I Don't Remember, euphemism for being a coward, fearful and frightened.

There are perhaps so many incidents of relapse, which I simply fling away out of amusement and irritation. What to do, I ask in moment of panic, but there is simply nothing nothing nothing people never change, people never do but you refuse to believe me so what can I do? Sigh. All you can do is pretend to nod in agreement or just walk away from me. And it's knowing what I really want that puzzles me in astonishment or confusion.

So a labyrinth of memory has its corners and nooks, waiting to be rediscovered; to be found and to love it once again, relinquish what you never seem to have, to stay or move on, to feel happy from made up stories and glazed afternoons.

Ever After

Such an allusion to reality.

Flowers In The Night

Reasoning

I am angry angry angry angry angry

In fact, I am very angry, dissatisfied, outraged at a certain decision that has been made. No I am not the straight-A student but that does not mean I am incapable of making my own choices. Ever heard of A FREE WORLD, woman? Oh so now it's my fault that I have a bad teacher and the whole class (exceptions go to super smart people for reasons I cannot comprehend) ends up almost failing and you blame my grades on me? I cannot be held responsible if I've asked time and time again, the reason why for a certain theory and she doesn't get to the point but instead, avoid the question completely and ends up answering something pointless instead.

Do you really think I will be pleasant with this whole situation and take it from you; take your nonsense judgment you make, not only to me, but to everyone who you think is not wholly above your standards? Just because you think you can make the final decision doesn't make you right.

Obviously I've rushed head-first and gotten angry too quickly but why wouldn't I? Why shouldn't I be completely raving mad, if not demanding the reasons as how you came to made your "decision".

I don't understand how this world really works. You are stating by the motto of "inspir[ing] and helping develop the skills and confidence to enable her to strive towards achieving her personal goals and to contribute to the wider community" YET your decision is exactly the thing that hinders that notion. Hypocritical, condescending, contradictory lies.

I believe I have fair and equal chance just as everyone else, including straight-A students the OPPORTUNITY for what I am trying to pursue so there is absolutely no reason why I should be an exception. Amidst all this confusing anger and outburst, I know the right thing to do, and the most rational, is to settle this with a calm attitude but I just cannot get over the fact that you decided that the matter would end without any further reasoning. Saying "No" doesn't mean I am accepting it, because I will and I can, have the ability to make you understand (albeit in a slightly erratic way) and justify the choices I have made. And therefore I am confident that my share of decisions are to my rightful and completely beneficial disposition.

Think

I can't.

How are you?

Oh, stop talking nonsense.

Well, I miss talking. To you.

Ha, too bad then.

Are you real?

Real enough for you.

Sigh.

I feel...

Sad?

Yes.

Little Miss Sunshine

equals English Film Study.

How important as a symbol and plot device is the yellow VW van in the film Little Miss Sunshine?

Although everyone knows, even my English teacher does, that I'd much much much so much more rather do Atonement instead. Because then, I would've gotten A++ for my final year exam and get into Uni Lit.

Now I'm stuck with a dysfunctional family with an overly optimistic father, 'pro-honesty' mum, cocaine addicted grandfather, suicidal uncle, son who doesn't want to speak, and Olive - the only one considered the most sane.

Well at least it's Academy Award winning.

... :( sigh.

If only:

"The misconception of Briony is partly due to her innocence of age and jealousy towards her sister Cecilia, the most defining moment is outlined when Briony witnesses the two figures by the fountain - the turning point of the film to which she reacted in confusion, fear and amazement. Obviously from physical actions between Robbie and Cecilia, she senses a heightened sexual apprehension between them but because of her age, she has yet to grasp the understanding of the situation. Her regrets in the future cannot atone (hence, the title of the film) for the mistakes and guilt she has grant herself to commit in her past. It was revealed later in the film that Paul Marshall was the true culprit of the crime towards Lola... .... ...."

Instead, all I have is

The yellow VW van is a symbolic plot device because it represents the social cohesion of the whole family and their unity in facing their trials.

I have never failed English and I don't wish to but how am I supposed to come up with reasons why the van matters so much! It's a yellow, sunshine-coloured van, for goodness' sake. Who cares? It bright, it's a warm colour. Social cohesion is such a lame excuse.

Oh God, I'm going to fail English.

Are You Happy?

--

Last month while I was in Kyoto, I was asked in front of a crowd of people if 'I was happy?' and then for less than a second my mind would revert to its usual rhetorics - Am I happy? Then I got so confused for a moment, because all these things clash and the happiness and unhappiness refuse to lay out in front of me so I didn't know what to say but what the hell, these people don't understand English anyway, so I said

"Yeah," even with hand gestures in the air and those sort of stuff to accentuate my eagerness, I suppose.

I hate how a simple question like that would defer the entire meaning of it. Essentially, it would be a simple yes/no answer but when you try to get technical, you begin to think of consequence and reasoning and logic. And that's what I did, trying to bargain with simple logic like that. It's a shock because I realized I couldn't answer such a simple question.

Are you happy?

Food War

I declare food war against Michelle Chan Wei Yan. (It started with Char Siew)

Here is my comeback:

Vanilla and Strawberry cupcakes with Buttercream icing

Well now!

Fred Baby

today:
happy birthday Erik
Breakfast At Tiffany's
"Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness."

not knowing what to do (really, truly)
philosophy or literature?

Mostly I've been around the house, dragging time along with me. I get up late the whole of this week, choosing to only spend half the days not as the previous two weeks where I wake up half an hour before 8 and rushrushrush bicycle, train, umbrella! When I wake up though, I get really tired again but I have no clue why.

from a different plane window:

good morning, and I said --

There was a long pause.
"Is that all?" Alice timidly asked.
"That's all," said Humpty Dumpty. "Goodbye."

and that's all, goodbye.

From Places

Of Kyoto, Shibuya, Hiroshima where I climbed a mountain in a dress and stockings and Tokyo at 2am.

Hiroshima