merit, worth, and love.

you know, i think i've never grown out of the constant hungry need for the approval of others. especially that of my loved ones, even though i may not seem to outwardly hold their opinion in especial esteem. i thought it was a phase that one could grow out of, a bad habit i'd kick with the passing of time and the passage into adulthood. fool that i am, i think that growing up automatically makes me wiser and less insecure. i have found out today that that is absolutely not true, and i've been happily deluded all this while. i'm sorely insecure about too many things, therefore i need the approval and affirmation of the people close to me. i cling to their approval as if it were a life raft, and i'm beginning to think that the positive opinions of others are more important to me than i previously thought. sometimes, it's all i cling on to to stop myself from freefalling down into an abyss of nothingness, of utter worthlessness. now, perhaps there is something wrong in all of this, this extreme form of self-deprecation that i put myself through. and i know it. i can see how it is so wrong, and yet i just indulge in bouts of insecurity, needing the approval and praise of others - just for that temporary high. that'd make me a junkie in a sense, just chasing that high. living from high to high. then when the high of the approval fades, i start to crashland down to reality and push myself to do well again so that the high of the praise seeps in again. the approval of my parents, the affirmation that my friends give me, the acknowledgement of my own achievements as precisely that - i'm addicted to it. i need it to be okay.

so, lately, i've been feeling like the stupid kid in the house again. i'm not sore, i'm not jealous - far from it. but somehow i can't help feeling like my parents overlook me as a moderately intelligent person, and see me as some sort of unclever and ordinary. too dull compared to my too brilliant sister. and i wouldn't mind it so much, except that i wish it didn't get to me as it does. i thought i'd outgrown comparing, outgrown trying to prove that i'm some sort of brainy, perhaps. and it saddens me that hey, maybe it'll never leave me. it gets to me how stupid i feel when i think about myself in that sense, as if somehow i haven't achieved anything worth mentioning in my academic life in the past 21 years. so maybe the news that i got the double major for literature and communications & new media got lost in the whole whirlwind of whether sister should go to SMU law or not. i mean comparatively, i've achieved nothing, it would seem. it's just a double major, not a double degree. even though i'm carrying the equivalent workload of a double degree student. so maybe law or medicine or life science, even, is easier to remember than "literature and communications". i'd like to think it were so, instead of allowing the thought that maybe they just can't be bothered to pay attention, to remember, to seep into my head. i'm a big girl now, i don't need my parents approval of my school life to make me feel as if i'm actually something. i'm worth something even if it appears otherwise. so maybe i'm not the brainy one in the family, i can deal with that. i am just telling myself incessantly that being smarter does not merit more love. although logically speaking, being smarter would mean that one is worth more in terms of lifetime achievements - and that would hence naturally attract more attention, love, and concern. but nevermind, i will try to keep the silliness at bay. i am upset and have been upset for some time, finding tears trickling down my eyes at inconvenient times of the day whenever i think about all this. but there has to be a better way to deal with this, other than just feeling sorry for myself, and crying utterly useless tears for seemingly no reason.

PRISON BREAK

so, while i watch 10 episodes of Prison Break back-to-back, i've been working on my chicken cross stitch. which, for some reason, makes me happy when i stare at it and trace the patterns that the colours make on the cloth.

my Prison Break marathoning has made my boyfriend a tad mad at me though, and i'm not quite sure what to make of it at the moment. especially since i'm at the time of the month when i wish i were anything but female, being beset by nauseating belly cramps. i am a bit distraught, but find myself unable to do anything else except continue watching my dvds cos there seems to be nothing to say about everything. - i do want to watch, but i do know that i should be more understanding and compromising about everything. and less selfish.

why Prison Break is so interesting to me, i must admit that the Wentworth guy is pretty darn fine. but let's pretend i never said it. omg he just kissed her?!! GASP i am like in. okay. well. what was i saying. i forget. i am watching Prison Break now.

schizophrenia

you know, it just hit me. maybe i'm Lonely.

and Insecure too, to boot.

but then, these don't make sense to my brain at the moment because i should have absolutely no reason in the world to feel alone. insecure - well, yes, maybe lately, especially since i feel like i'm becoming uninspired and drab. but lonely? with a perfect boyfriend, family, and friends? sounds a bit rich, you might think.

slowly but surely, though, some semblence of dark loneliness is creeping into a corner of my increasingly shrinking heart and consciousness. and i don't know why it's so, or how to reverse this alarming happening. as i see myself retreating further inwards, i don't want to do anything to stop it. it feels almost like a spectacle, sort of. where i'm just sitting by the sidelines and watching a sad freakshow. sheer abjection. i see myself being permeated by dark, gloomy thoughts - and all i can do is watch as i become ever more dejected at apparently nothing, for seemingly no reason. perhaps it's some form of quarter-life crisis, if you're the kind who likes to trivialize things. whatever is happening to me, i can only watch it unfold with some sort of detached horror, while secretly, meanly enjoying what's happening to such a picture-perfect sort of life. it's almost as if there're two people in me: one helplessly watching as a pitch-black tidal wave of misery washes over her life and sweeps her away; the other somewhat sneering at the fate of plastic Barbie and her too-perfect world.

and after recklessly typing this avalanche of dark thoughts out into words, all i can do is sit here and scratch my upper lip, as i am increasingly aware of a rather stupid prevailng sense of nonchalance for the inevitable.

the banality of my existence.

the days are really slipping by me.. just like that. the more i try to stop time from passing so quickly, the faster they seem to fly, it seems. i try to fill my days with meaningful activities, to do stuff that actually matters. anything, to stop my time from spiralling down into utter insignificance. so much time, and yet i end up doing practically nothing at all. as i grow ever older, i become more and more resigned to some sad facts, that some dreams must be let go of. unfulfilled, or not. as much as i am convinced that i am more than just that, i am becoming increasingly aware that i am as much just that as everyone else might be. even more so, perhaps. not some kind of special - more like some kind of ordinary. i see the rest of my life stretched out before me, still wide wastes of unspent years, if nothing untoward happens to me before my old-lady time. but at the same time, that life i see is one that is petered out and almost bland. i know that it's up to me to live the kind of life that i want. but i'm feeling so dull and lacklustre these days, it almost seems fitting for me to live a similar kind of boring, dishwater-dull life that i abhor. it seems almost as if i feel as if it is perfectly my place to mire myself in that kind of banality, being the insanely boring witless person i feel i'm becoming. it's as if i deserve it, when in another time when there had been a lot more fight me, i would vehemently deny it of me. yes, that's right. i feel as if the fight has been sucked out of me. i sound so jaded, suddenly. so tired, so sick of it all. but i'm not - i'm not actually like that, i don't feel this way. i generally don't feel sick of life, and yet maybe a part of me feels as if i've had enough. i generally feel still some kind of special, not all kinds of banal, but an increasingly huge part of me is teteering towards the facelessness of sheeplike crowds. i feel an increasing need to read, indulging in a form of escapism my immense imagination allows as it takes flight and comes to life in a plane of its own. Lord of the Rings has been my latest read - a daunting volume at about a thousand pages that makes my arms ache if i hold it up for too long periods of time as i lie in bed reading. i am fully aware of the need to look in the not-too-distant future of graduation time, when i will have to decide what i want to work as. or more importantly, i will have to secure for myself tenureable employment that is some form of bearable to me. daily journalism is no longer something that i can see myself in. the local press does not appeal to me at all as i read more and more of the trash that is produced. in their defence, i also know that the press has to perform its role in society, journalists have to write to do so. i want to be a writer, but what can i do in this unimaginative society that i live in? what kind of book can i write here that will make writing a viable career? i need to think of something before i graduate, something has to work out in the grander scheme of things.

on a more banal note. cycling yesterday was great - but my legs are exhausted. i'd do it again, but maybe not too soon. heh. next on my list of things to do on a date would be the building of sandcastles on the beach! apparently, you can rent sandcastle building stuff from a shop for a reasonable rate for the whole day. that would finally let me see my castles in tangible sand and not just in the immaterialness of clouds. heh. - okay, so not funny. i am currently watching episodes of antm cycle 10 on youtube now as i throw out clothes from my wardrobe. i have so many pieces of clothing i have no idea what to do with - i don't want to give them away for good by giving them to the Salvation Army, but at the same time, i don't wear them quite as often enough for them to occupy hanging space in my already bursting cupboard. also, i am currently not doing any dinners/lunches with ANYONE because i am SO broke it is not funny. i have no idea where my money all evaporated to - it always turns out this way. sigh. and, i have to start packing for sydney soon. like get all my winter clothes from Trina. i wish i could borrow boots from her, too. but her feet are like 3 sizes smaller than mine. :(

so many things to do, all so insanely banal. woe is me.

the extraordinary of ordinary.

i can't help but think that beyond all this ordinariness, there must be something really extraordinary just waiting to happen, beyond the corner. here i am, mired in the most inane, ordinary life you could think of, restless out of my mind and yet not wanting to move from my comfy inertia. i cannot help but still dare to hope that there is still a lot more of my life just waiting to unfold. unfold, mind you - not for me to stumble upon.

pick a star on the dark horizon, & follow the light -
you'll come back when it's over.

receptionist-for-a-day!

sleep eluded me last night for almost three hours, leaving me extremely exasperated and grouchy. work doesn't become me - at all. i look like an absolute train wreck, and i feel like one. on the plus side, i actually enjoyed my 6km run last night. a rare occurence, i assure you, that the words "run" and "enjoyed" appear in the same sentence, especially with no negatives involved. i think i finally found out what it means to be on a "runner's high", cos i wasn't tired after a certain point in the run - and it was quite exhilirating. i need to start losing weight. the new weighing scale i bought from Ikea yesterday showed that i weigh an appalling 47kg - 3 up from a mere two months ago. which is strange, considering how i probably did zero amount of exercise prior to end-of-exams. maybe (and i'm sincerely hoping) the weight gain can be attributed to the amassing of muscle.

manning the reception is not as boring as i thought it'd be. but i think i'm doing an absolutely horrid job. i keep accidentally losing calls, pressing the wrong buttons on the switchboard when i try to transfer calls. making all sorts of wild guesses when people call and ask me if they can book rooms. signing for deliveries and not knowing what to do with them. i feel quite positively useless, actually. but - it's okay! cos it's a one-day stint only, thank goodness. or i'd create even more trouble.

i am feeling quite restless at the moment. i am hungry and itching to do some of my cross stitch all at once. wikipedia has been feeding my insatiable appetitie for trivia on the most inane things, as usual. i only wish i could plug in my earphones somewhere and watch antm on youtube. i haven't had enough bum-around-time at home to do that.

Narnia is my newest craze, by the way. i love the cinematography of the two movies that have come out, i love the music scores, I LOVE THE FANTASTICAL NATURE OF IT ALL. i want to be a queen of Narnia! i want to wear those pretty medieval-looking dresses that Susan and Lucy wears in the movies. i want to not be ordinary anymore.

one life.

so many thoughts swirling around in my head - which one to catch hold of first, which one to release on the pretext of now but perhaps maybe for good? i'm no longer fool enough to presume that everything i think of in a moment will stick around with me past that instant - life's too fleeting and transient for everything to not be merely momentary, for anything to be anything less than ephemeral. whatever i manage to pen down here, it's but a snapshot of my mind-scape at any one point in time, nothing more. sad, but true. i wish i could put into words everything i think about in a day, all the feelings that come to me and make me feel so alive and yet so aware of the time slipping through my fingers each day i'm alive. when you think about it: every day i'm alive, i have one less day to live. it goes away for good, i can't do anything to call back the moments that have passed me by.

i have felt anger, rage, so many things in recent times. wells of emotions that i thought have left me, all have sprung up to reveal their ugly faces to my aghast. jealousy, insecurity, cattiness - all these are the familiar unbecoming feelings that have been a part of me for the longest time ever, and i've more or less figured out how to deal with these when they vie for my attention so that they can be given tangible form in this all-too-tangible world. i take a deep breath, convince myself of the sheer lack of comforting logic of the annoying emotion, and turn my back on it before it comes out in frightening form. but the anger that has lashed out at my loved ones lately is something quite alien to me - which isn't to say that such wrath is beyond me, but simply has been placed under control prior to this. then there's such a thing called disgust, outrage, and a strange kind of disbelief at a type of weirdness that is just beyond me.

displacement seems to be the new feeling of the day. displacement in all its forms. and when you think about it, displacement is just the kind of feeling that one never quite gets used to, because it is the very stuff of constant change and discomfort.

my life which seems so fulfilled and filled with meaning on its shiny glossy surface is increasingly seeming to me to be empty, aimless, and sadly lacking in any form of meaning whatsoever. i don't know why i'm doing what i'm doing anymore, increasingly. when my results for the semester came out a couple of days ago, i was initially beset by all these feelings of being upset, disappointed, and then the determination to do better washed over me. to get my second upper, to push myself to do the best i can. then, when all these feelings left me, i was left wondering why i'm working so hard to get a certain set of results, a certain goal i have placed on a pedestal in my own head - a suddenly conflated sense of false importance has washed over everything i once held so dear and high in regard. even the shopping i wanted to do with my newly earned money, i don't see the point in it anymore. i don't see the point in dressing up prettily when i go out, putting on my makeup to look presentable, learning more to make myself a more valuable piece of real estate when the time comes for me to find a job for good - all these have suddenly diminished in their glitzy glamour and have dulled into the reccesses of my mind. i no longer know what i want with my life, i no longer know that i want to have a high-flying career, i no longer know anything save i want to live comfortably for the rest of my days just seeped with love.

perhaps it's from realising how insignificant it all is in the grander scale of things that's making me so disillusioned and disinterested in everything. all my hopes, my dreams, my fears - they're nothing more than a speck in the universe, which makes me nothing more than a full-stop or a comma in the sentences that make up life. when everything's going smoothly and i'm achieving all i want, it all seems to make perfect sense. everything seems to be steeped in grand meaning, seems to bear the promise of dreams to be fulfilled. but then, when something in that little pathetic insignificant ambition fails to click into place, falls slightly out of step with the tune that everything else marches to, nothing makes sense anymore. ambition seems pathetic, almost romanticised. the promise of the future seems to unravel into its sparse threads and evaporate into thin air, leaving nothing behind but a mere whisper of how tiny and transient it all is.

songs seem empty, happy tunes grate on my nerves. the only things i want to surround myself with is fresh air, and melancholy. the books i read are all about the past, about fantastical universes i want to be a part of but know for sure that they are but whimsical figments of someone's imagination. i want it all to mean something, i want my life to mean something. and somehow, it feels as though the harder i try to make it mean something, the closer i feel i'm drawing to the fearful abyss of nothing. seeing it all played out on screen would make me feel so much better, that it is actually some kind of grand, some kind of significant. but i know that i'm just one of the millions in the world, closer to some sort of faceless and voiceless than anything else. perhaps it is that which grates on me so much, knowing how pathetic my sense of self-importance is, carrying on that delusion that i finally mean something to someone - when truth is, i could disappear from the face of the earth in a heartbeat and noone would realise, no clouds will weep for me, no eclipse of the sun will mark that moment in time. nothing. everything that i have toiled for would just cease to exist. the room that i've lived in my whole life would just stay as it is, all my things collecting dust and the wood crumbling - and eventually, all my things would be packed away into boxes. and i'd laugh at the irony at it all, at how my life has been sorted into maybe seven different boxes and kept away, just like that. and all the unimportant things, they'd just be thrown away - just as i'd be thrown away when i'm dead because my body is no longer important in this cruel existence that stops for nothing, no man, no death.

sometimes i feel as if one life isn't enough for me to live. it's too short, i'm too limited and bounded by time and space. there're all these other existences i'd like to live in, and yet i can't because i'm only alive but once. and the moment i stop to breathe, it's over, my journey as a life ceases. i'd like to have lived in a king's court in 16th century Europe - something i read about now and ooh and aah over, but in truth, really existed 500 years ago. i'd like to have lived as a peasant girl, having to worry only about my marriage options and maybe my chickens and whether my cows have been milked. i'd like to live in the modern day West, that which i can only look at through a simulacrum, nothing more - because i'm Asian, and i belong in Asia because of my skin colour, my facial structure, my hair colour, eye colour, height etcetra. so many lives i'd have liked to lived, but i'll only ever know my life on earth as it is now. of course, there're all these questions that follow such a fatalistic outlook of things, but what else can i do but accept it all as it is?

i want grand romance, i want epic adventure, i want mystery. what i have, i don't seem to want very much. but i daresay when i lose all that i have, i will realise that i want these too, but i will only want them when they are no longer mine to call my own.

it started out as a feeling,

which then grew into a hope.

which then turned into a quiet thought,

which then turned into a quiet word.

& then that word grew louder and louder,

'til it was a battle cry.

i'll come back when you call me,

no need to say goodbye.

just because everything's changing,

doesn't mean it's never been this way before.

all you can do is try to know who your friends are,

as you head off to the war.

pick a star on the dark horizon,

& follow the light.

you'll come back when it's over,

no need to say goodbye.

now we're back to the beginning,

it's just a feeling and now one knows yet.

but just because they can't feel it too

- doesn't mean that you have to forget.

let your memories grow stronger and stronger,

'til they're before your eyes.

you'll come back when it's over -

no need to say goodbye.

The Call

Regina Spektor

from the Chronicles of Narnia - Prince Caspian OST

yay!

so now that i have stopped working, i have been catching up on sleep. alright, boring, i know. but it's only been two days since i stopped working on Monday, so excuse me for catching a rest. my social life has been a bit blah for a long time, everyone's so far away. partly my fault too, cos i mean to catch up with so many people but my need for sleep keeps me away from the computer and the phone, and glues me to my bed. today's the first night i'm actually planning to spend some time on the computer, the first time in like, almost a week. thinking of watching some episodes of house online, then maybe playing some wow or sims.

okay. inane post again. sorry. i am so thoroughly uninspired these days, i dunno why. oh, but i'm reading this book - The Other Boleyn Girl - now, and i don't know why but for some reason, Anne Boleyn really scares me with her sheer ambition. the movie isn't as good as the book, really. most movie adaptations aren't, even when taken solely as movies in their own right and not looked upon as a Movie-Adaptation.

i want to play games on my ps2 again, but i'm too lazy to walk downstairs to play anything. and. the GSS is on now, and everything's on sale. BUT. the crowds just gross me out and piss me off. ugh. dilemma. and even more pressingly: no money. i always never have enough money, always want more things. it's starting to become a little ridiculous.

oh-so-tired.

i am very very tired. it just hit me today how exhausted i am. my batteries are running on low cos of all the working hours i put in. and the hours i keep. and all the stuff i do. i need to sleep more, eat more, rest more, play more. i am giving myself one more week to keep up this pace of living. one more week, no more. cos i cannot survive more than that without doing permanent damage to my brains and my well-being.

not enough sleep for the last week, not gonna have enough sleep in the upcoming week, too. howhowhow. sigh. i need to find reserve energy from somewhere to do everything i need to do.

unwritten.

i am starting work for a week tomorrow. considering i am going to be paid $7.50 an hour for the next week for just sitting down and filing, i ought to be grateful for my money-making opportunity. but the thought of doing such mind-numbing, brainless, inane work at the ungodly hour of 9am every day for the next five days is making me more winded than i'd care for. but i need to earn some money, i need to save some money. ergo, i need to work. unfortunately. now we all know that if the above conditions didn't hold true, i wouldn't even think of working this holidays. i'd spend the entire three months in languid sleeping, playing, spending, eating, living. that's just the kind of person i am, partly. then, there's the other part of me - the go-getter part, that wants a career, wants to do things cos that's what life is about, wants to make full use of every single minute i'm alive. it's too late when i'm dead, anyway. too late to do anything. then, it struck me: who says living the easy life isn't living per se? i don't have to pack my schedule from 7am to 10pm every single day to have a full life, do i? on the contrary, i reckon doing that would be counter-productive to my quest in living each day to its fullest. i can breathe in the essence of what life has to offer simply by doing the things i love to do (ie. lazing around, reading, minimal activity), cos that's what life means to me.

okay so even though i dread having to wake up at 7am tomorrow morning and the next five days, i'm gonna make the best of this and try to go to work slightly smiley. and try not to be grouchy while i'm at it.

and. i miss hearing EIC play. i was just listening to Jason Mraz's I'm Yours - a song EIC plays really often - and i felt a twinge of nostalgia somewhere in my heart for when i was less complicated and could head down to Walawala on a Friday night to chill out to the music.

i am unwritten,

can't read my mind,

i'm undefined.

i'm just beginning,

the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned.

staring at the blank page before you

open up the dirty window,

let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find.

reaching for something in the distance

so close you can almost taste it

release your inhibitions.

feel the rain on your skin,

no one else can feel it for you.

only you can let it in.

no one else can speak the words on your lips,

drench yourself in words unspoken.

live your life with arms wide open

today is where your book begins,

the rest is still unwritten.

i break tradition,

sometimes my tries, are outside the lines

we've been conditioned to not make mistakes,

but i can't live that way.

Unwritten

Natasha Bedingfield

i've missed bumming around and vegetating, i've missed sleeping in and not having to worry about anything. all the above represented by my comfy home. ergo, i miss home. i've spent the last two days doing absolutely nothing other than watch some tv, read my books, throw out junk from my room, and sleep. <3

i need to rearrange my room this break so that i have more space when school begins again in august. more space to accumulate more junk, i forgot to add. the amount of rubbish i manage to collect in a few months.. it's pretty scary.

and. i need a job. my allowance has been severely cut this holidays (self-suggested, believe it or not), and yet i'm having trouble securing that sum of money, still, cos it is believed that giving me money to spend on entertainment during the holidays is an absolute waste of it. hence, i need a job. i might call up the Ralph Lauren contact Chels gave me last night, but i'd better do it soon before the laziness just seeps all the way in and leaves me incapitated and direly rooted to my bed.

i am sleeping 10 hours a day these days, by the way. it's making me feel a lot better, my stressples are clearing up (a stressple is a stress-induced pimple. i made it up, so you'd be forgiven for not knowing), my dark eye circles are disappearing, my puffy eyes are becoming unpuffy again. i'm even beginning to exercise a little to tone up the flab. yay for me.

okay i seem to have no interest in blogging anymore tonight. my bed calls. goodnight.

HOUSE!

i am addicted to House and i have almost watched the entire first season in all of 4 days. i think this could be due to me secretly desperately wanting to see House actually tell Cameron that he has feelings for her after she confesses to him about how she feels for him. not so secret anymore, i suppose, but doesn't change why i'm so addicted to the show. if i went down the psychoanalysis road, i'd say this desire to see House tell Cameron about his feelings has got everything to do with my own past experiences. but of course, i will not go down that slippery path today. i am too eager to finish up the last three episodes of season one. actually, i already kinda know what's gonna happen and who's gonna say what - but i still want to watch it.

i think these exams are getting to me, actually. let's see if i still retain my addiction to House after my last papers on Monday.


and for some strange inexplicable reason or the other, i think Hugh Laurie is hot. must be something wrong with me if i think grouchiness and misery is sexy. maybe it's as simple as this, that every girl just wants to love a damaged, imperfect man.

not interested, go away.

i had a lot of fun today after my exams. Korean bbq, two movies back-to-back, a nap. i enjoyed myself thoroughly, was really happy.


i am now in a tremendously bad mood, though. and i just felt like venting. but upon sitting here in front of my keyboard, i find myself at a loss for words, and i'm stuck with parroting over and over again that i am upset. and miserable. and slightly confused, even though i know very clearly what i intend to do.

i am just not interested. completely unintersted in anything that has got to do with this.
i want to have nothing to do with ---, i know nothing about --- and i'm perfectly happy this way. i apologise for making life difficult, but i don't apologise for feeling this way. sounds familiar? i bet it does. maybe it's cos i think she's everything i'm not, maybe it's cos of so many other things. who cares? bottom line is: not interested.

while it may seem like it's cos she's got everything i have to live without, i think it's not that - at all. i'm glad i'm not living with it now, cos i'm living with something much better now. you're beautiful and i know i'm lucky. i don't regret my choice. not second choice - my choice. i think it's more cos i cannot see what i lack, i cannot understand what's wrong with me, i cannot see why i'm completely unloveable. surely i cannot be that flawed? i wish i didn't feel this way about myself now, cos you're right, it seems like i'm belittling what we have. i'm trying to change the way i see myself, but it increasingly seems that i'm so broken that it's taking a long time to put back the pieces i'm trying to fit back into one whole. at the same time, i'm trying not to put myself at the centre of the universe, trying not to allow myself to get swallowed up by my self-pity and other useless, wasteful emotions.

and i'm getting very frustrated cos i'm cycling through my itunes and it seems like there isn't a song to put what i feel into words. i need catharsis so badly, i need to get it all out, but i'm having so much trouble expressing myself. just look at the badly written paragraph above, i'm writing disjointedly and it's just not flowing. and when i try to explain it to you, it comes out as pure emotion - as just tears - and nothing i say can explain what i feel. which makes me seem and feel totally irrational. which i hate.



whatever it is, i just do not want to have anything to do with this. it may seem irrational, i don't care. but leave me out of all of this, it is irrelevant to my emotional universe now, and i am disinterested in any of this. for good reason - i'm feeling so distraught now, it makes sense to just stick to my emotional range of a teaspoon and not be bothered by irrelevant, senseless things. i have too many things to do, i have too much to live for. so please, stay far far FAR away. i don't want to say hello, i am not interested in making small talk, i just want you to keep away from me. yes, many "you"s in this post, please don't get confused.

goodbye.

i'll be giving it my bestest

& i know two posts in a day is a biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit much, just a teensy bit - but i'm through moping over my shitty lit exam.

i am looking to kill my comms research paper on friday, same goes for media writing on monday. so...

i'll be giving it my bestest,
nothing's gonna stop me but divine intervention
i reckon it's again my turn to win some,
or lose some.

-- listen to the music of the moment & maybe sing with me.



PS: to all who have tagged my board recently, i've replied to all of you but you gotta scroll down cos my board's too small and can only hold one reply at a time.

PPS: Althusser?!

happy endings

okay, nobody throws rocks at me or whatever, but i think love is a choice. it's not something that 'just' happens, that happens cos you have no 'choice'. i'm beginning to think that maybe initial attraction happens, but after that, you choose to stay in love. cheating doesn't 'just' happen either, in that same vein of thought. you choose to cheat. well yes, of course everything isn't always that simple, 1+1 isn't always equal to 2, but mostly, it is. theories deal with big pictures, with what usually happens - hence my theory on love does just that: explain what is the general situation for majority of the people in the world.

and i know this is going to sound totally off-tangent, but it really irks me how all movies/shows have a happy ending. even my video games have happy endings, for crying out loud. if movies are supposed to be a depiction of reality and not a fabrication of a construction, then how come all endings are happy ones? i think it's escapism, i think most people like happy endings, i think everyone wants a happy ending for themselves and so they project that wish onto their means of escape. duh. if not why would they call it escapism anyway, right. you escape from a reality that you don't like. to someplace better, someplace that suits your fancy, someplace where you don't feel miserable. but i'm beginning to wonder at how this all works, cos reality as we all know it, isn't all as it's cut up to be in the first place. i'm not trying to complicate an already far-too-complicated world, no siree, but reality is constructed. my experience of reality is different from yours, because the way i perceive what happens around me is necessarily not exactly the same as how you have processed it, cos hey, we're all unique individuals, aren't we. so since all reality is subjective, it should follow then that all experiences of "reality" is constructed, too - by ourselves.

i'm not a scrooge, i love a happy ending just as much as you do. probably because i'm hoping i'll have a happy ending myself, just like anyone else. but i think it's totally unrealistic to keep forcing every single situation in the movies into a happy ending. happily-ever-afters don't always happen in life, let's not talk about reality here, anymore. i'm just talking about life. take the show 10000BC - it was a perfectly lovely action show with lots of fighting and of course, a guy with a love interest. now, if you haven't watched it AND intend to catch it on dvd or on the internet, don't read this paragraph anymore and stop right here. love interest gets kidnapped by other barbarians, he goes to find her, almost saves her, she gets shot in the back by an arrow and well, dies. and it could have ended there, because how do cavemen or cavewomen, for that matter, come back from the dead. heck, even modern men can't. but no, some shaman woman had to give up her life from 10000 miles away to revive love interest who miraculously, comes back from the dead and guy marries her, and they live happily ever after. i mean like seriously, that whole coming back from the dead thing is just too uncalled for, obviously scripted in to give the show the happy ending that (almost) everybody wants, but i didn't.

anyway. i should be studying. not ranting about the abundance of happy endings. stats calls.

f*ck.

it is immensely difficult to comprehend how i simultaneously began my exams today, and at the same time, also kissed goodbye to a decent cap this sem and hence a decent cap (ie. anything remotely close to 4) within the next two semesters.

i hate James Carey and his ritual/transmission model of communication - you have screwed me over with your false importance which has fatally been misconstrued as unimportance to me, and for right reasons too. i cannot believe i spent the entire weekend and some part of the previous week imbibing readings for 2113, which were NOT of any use in my exam today in whatever imaginable form whatsoever. i could have done far more productive things, like sleep well or take care of my mental health. much thanks to this screw up of gargantuan proportions in my academic choices, i have effectively bidden a decent cap score farewell with one f*ck up. well, considering how my comms research presentation went disastrously (as i expect the report the presentation was based on went, too), and how for some unfathomable reason certain members of my writing mod have gotten significantly higher marks than others even though it is a f*cking group project and thus have reason to suspect foul play somewhere in our peer review collusion - idealistic idiot i was - i am therefore looking forward to two consecutive Bs, B+s, if i'm lucky. we shall not even delve into psycholit, in which i have been averaging the grand total of a B- this entire sem by virtue of being bloody 0.5 marks below the average score. my cap this semester is beginning to look disgusting already.

now, we all know i do not curse and swear flippantly, for no good reason. hence, you should all realize by now the gravity of my situation and the extent of my frustration and my annoyance at some screwed up group project grading system - and i hate people who turn their backs on agreements, by the way. of course, i have no proof to validate any of these claims, so i am trying my darndest to will myself to purge myself of these poisonous thoughts - but to no avail. but, i am succeeding in putting my energies into this post, and will attempt to divert all my frustration towards studying for comms research tomorrow morning when i get up.

house rocks, by the way. i am hooked on it, and i love axn for showing two back to back episodes on two consecutive days. i am hoping house will be aired again tomorrow night, and maybe with all these little distractions, my dangerous sort of mood will dissipate and i will revert to the harmless, happy being i (think) i normally am.

FOOOOOOOOOD!!!

these are the kinds of food that please my palate tremendously, and pander to my gastronomical cravings: seafood, especially of the crab variety; steamboats; pastas and italian food in general; western food; barbequed food; dim sum, fried local fare which includes char kway teow, hokkien mee, and prawn lua; japanese fare; thai delicacies; pratas.

these are the kinds of foods i would like very much to try cos i believe they would potentially be added to the list above: turkish/middle eastern food with lots of grilled meats and pita breads and the special kind of rice; indonesian food; korean food; all other kind of indian food besides prata; greek food (where Cheryl promised to take me when i visit her in Sydney!!); European fare (i draw the line at escargot and foie gras).


i have spent a good portion of my night at http://www.hungrygowhere.com sussing out food places to visit after the exams. i think i need to find a site that promotes good hawker fare, too.

and i just had toast & eggs, - influenced by Chelsa all the way from Milan when she told me she eats it for breakfast.


speaking of breakfast, i am FINALLY having Macs' breakies with Fiona tomorrow morning, after weeks of procrastinating.




sigh such a food-filled post has not made me feel any better about my unsatisfied cravings. but. I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO CRAB DINNER WITH TRI ON MONDAY NIGHT. :)

i am sick of people who think that the world revolves around themselves. get with it: IT DOESN'T. no one has to accommodate you, no one has to always pacify you - pacify yourself, why don't you, if you think that the whole world is against you. cos it ISN'T. for heaven's sake. grow up, pleeeease.

i have half a mind to wash my hands off this all. you are obviously not appreciating anything i am trying to do, you are obviously not trying to make things work. it's almost ludicrous, how it's never your fault. please, either get with it, or leave me out of it. thank you.

and no, this is directed at none of you who read my blog, promise.

i have a plan.

i have finally decided on something to write about for my psycho essay. i just hope it will stretch for ten pages, and i just hope i will not end up contradicting myself throughout the insanely long argument and exposition.

strangely though, my inspiration for the essay came when i was doing the laundry this evening. after ploughing through almost the entire book of Kristeva, Psychoanalysis & Culture which i borrowed from the lib, and forcing myself to sit through Kristeva's Power of Horror essay on abjection.

i will have to read Shelley's Frankenstein again to make sure i know what i'm talking about, and i'm not really looking forward to it cos it's such a bloody depressing book. i know it's such a silly reason for choosing this over Turn of the Screw, but well, i decided against doing an essay on the latter cos it scares the crap out of me, with its ghosts and eerieness and all. it scared the willies out of me the first time i read it, and i will not put myself through that torture again for anything.


and i know this is off tangent, but i can't wait for the exams to be over so i can play all my final fantasy games on my ps2 again. AND, order the pc version of ffxi. and wow. and make my sims grow up into adults and grad from university. and finish up crisis core. and watch movies like there's no tomorrow. and sleep. and exercise. and read all my books. and watch other countries' versions of antm. and shop. sigh.

facebook is EVIL!

facebook is sucking my life and time away. i spent 40 min on facebook doing absolutely nothing of worth, just looking at photos and facebook profile surfing.

when i should really be reading Kristeva and Lacan so that i can start on that dratted assignment.

now how do i disconnect facebook and msn? - so that i will not waste any more time this coming week doing next to nothing, and feeling sleepy soon after having spent too much time staring at the computer screen.