Lies, and Goodbyes.
I am listening to Johnny Cash, whom i've discovered recently, and reading about oddly sized dildos in a sex blog, postmodern courtesan if you must know.
Somehow it feels like it should be a sacrilege.
**********
We all lie.
"Nah, it's okay, I don't care."
"Oh hi, 4th great aunt! I've missed you so!"
"I'm okay."
"I know exactly what I'm doing."
"I love you."
"I hate you."
A forced smile.
Oh, we try to avoid it. With sly, writhing, misdirecting words.
"That dress looks fantastic!"
"That was... enlightening."
or a simple, mona lisa smile.
We lie.
We wish we don't have to.
We wish we don't.
It makes me upset. I brood about how fake we are.
I don't know if you'd understand what i'm trying to impart.
I can't find the fancy, impactful words that will convey to you the depth with which i feel this.
And i realise, bombastic, pompous words are little lies too. Little hammers trying to force the point, dressing prettily some fugly nonsensical bullshit.
With the right words, you can sell cosmetics that ruin the independence of communities while touting its empowerment of them.
With the right words, a fictionous pampered patsy of a dumbassed jock can hilariously be an adored hero the world over.
With the right words, you can be such a fucked-up crazy bitch, and pass for a well-meaning sweetheart.
Words are easily abused.
Its just so sad.
And I used to relish the power of it.
Maybe that's the reason people lie.
Give another the power of knowing your too innate truths?
I don't want to blog anymore. I'm more of a private person then I realised, its disturbing when aquaintances talk to me about things i havent told them about yet. And I apparently can't write without it becoming somewhat personal. So much for lighthearted, regular entertainment huh? I brood too much when writing, so why subject people to it, when i know i would yawn, and skip it in an instant?
Good night. And perhaps for now, good bye. Maybe when i am less sunk in disquietude...
This blog will probably be only good for quotes, stories and links i want to remember from now on.
But no, i think i'd try to post chirpier stuff. Like Shafah's slumber party on monday. I'd try get psyched for it. Let's give this blogging thing a proper shot.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Now That's a Smart Fellow
As societies grow decadent, the language grows decadent, too. Words areused to disguise, not to illuminate, action: you liberate a city bydestroying it. Words are to confuse, so that at election time people willsolemnly vote against their own interests.
-Gore Vidal, writer (1925- )
As societies grow decadent, the language grows decadent, too. Words areused to disguise, not to illuminate, action: you liberate a city bydestroying it. Words are to confuse, so that at election time people willsolemnly vote against their own interests.
-Gore Vidal, writer (1925- )
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
OXYMORON: BUSY PROCRASTINATING.
A friend suggested a normal bloggerish post. you know, the sort that actually tells people what's going on in my life. He pointed out that I have been doing everything but that.
so.
Friday. - spent the entire day after location video pro practical class in borders, first waiting for rebecca, who wanted to borrow my cord pants for the Queen tribute concert, then just finishing my book. She almost got me free tickets to it too. :(
I happen to be the bane of the bookstore's existence. I sit there and read and read and read all day, and leave the place, dazed, sated and empty handed. Friday was a good example. I was there before 12, til closing time when she called after the concert to rave about it. That was at 12 midnight. It was fuckin' fantastic, tamora pierce's latest's finally made it to singapore. I probably will buy a copy for a 2nd read too. Oh, the concert was good too, according to becca. And in defence of myself, when I do buy, I tend to walk straight out. :)
Saturday. - went jamming at pennisula centre, with amir, fay and rebecca. i felt like halfway inbetween a rock goddess and an absolute doodoo head, 'cause amir and rebecca were multi-instrumental while i only drummed badly and i had to be told how many beats there were in so many songs! that bad, yes.
At the delifrance nearby, we binged after that, swapping our lunches half way and giving each other huge bites of it in between a running commentary on the looks of the people walking pass the convieniently placed, huge window to the sidewalk outside and a whole lot of silly antics, stories and discussions on our part.
I love them, really. It rocks my boat to just sit and yak and bitch, occasionally spewing forth bits of food, gesturing and yelling as wildly as I please , and high-fiving and hugging each other everytime we are get on a serious verbal high!! 'cause after all, these people love me too. :) Me and my freaky knives that waves too violently and close to people's faces. But not enough to read my blog and hear me say it, since i've "sold out". Don't worry babes, I don't really think I'd last long at this either.
Sunday. - Was my knuckle-down-and-do-all-the-piling-school-work day. I went to buy the materials for my CATS artifact. An aircon tee shirt. REALLY feasible idea, back when we forgot we were supposed to make a working model. The original idea was supposed to be marketed as "depending on a cutting edge micro chip technology, that will ensure a constant breeze through one's tee shirt", or some similar BS.
...?!
yeah, i agree.
Then it boiled down to me sewing it.
so it became an aircon vest, with pockets velco-ed onto it to pack ice-packs into. you know, the things you use when you get a fever, sprain an ankle, whatever. Easy to say, fucked up shit to sew with a defiant sewing machine!!! I supposed the ol' Singer didn't like me that much, esp after I broke 5 needles on it, only to abandoned it the last time I used it, maybe at least 2 months ago...
It took me 7 fuckin', cursin' hours, not counting the 2 hours shopping for it. It REALLY didn't like the knit material. Too stretchy. Too holey. But I triumphed! hehe.
By then, the whole fuckin' day was shot. The much publicised day at the library to catch up on school work? Pretty much screwed at 10 at night, even if you ignore how pissy and tired I was then. I sneezed, and bits of green knit fabric and black thread came out. EWWW.
I will take pictures of it, and show it off here; because if there's only one thing I am insanely vain about, its the things i DIY-ed. I fully expect to be SHOWERED in PRAISES then. HEHHEHE!
and with that, good night! now i'd stop being busy procrastinating my media critique.
A friend suggested a normal bloggerish post. you know, the sort that actually tells people what's going on in my life. He pointed out that I have been doing everything but that.
so.
Friday. - spent the entire day after location video pro practical class in borders, first waiting for rebecca, who wanted to borrow my cord pants for the Queen tribute concert, then just finishing my book. She almost got me free tickets to it too. :(
I happen to be the bane of the bookstore's existence. I sit there and read and read and read all day, and leave the place, dazed, sated and empty handed. Friday was a good example. I was there before 12, til closing time when she called after the concert to rave about it. That was at 12 midnight. It was fuckin' fantastic, tamora pierce's latest's finally made it to singapore. I probably will buy a copy for a 2nd read too. Oh, the concert was good too, according to becca. And in defence of myself, when I do buy, I tend to walk straight out. :)
Saturday. - went jamming at pennisula centre, with amir, fay and rebecca. i felt like halfway inbetween a rock goddess and an absolute doodoo head, 'cause amir and rebecca were multi-instrumental while i only drummed badly and i had to be told how many beats there were in so many songs! that bad, yes.
At the delifrance nearby, we binged after that, swapping our lunches half way and giving each other huge bites of it in between a running commentary on the looks of the people walking pass the convieniently placed, huge window to the sidewalk outside and a whole lot of silly antics, stories and discussions on our part.
I love them, really. It rocks my boat to just sit and yak and bitch, occasionally spewing forth bits of food, gesturing and yelling as wildly as I please , and high-fiving and hugging each other everytime we are get on a serious verbal high!! 'cause after all, these people love me too. :) Me and my freaky knives that waves too violently and close to people's faces. But not enough to read my blog and hear me say it, since i've "sold out". Don't worry babes, I don't really think I'd last long at this either.
Sunday. - Was my knuckle-down-and-do-all-the-piling-school-work day. I went to buy the materials for my CATS artifact. An aircon tee shirt. REALLY feasible idea, back when we forgot we were supposed to make a working model. The original idea was supposed to be marketed as "depending on a cutting edge micro chip technology, that will ensure a constant breeze through one's tee shirt", or some similar BS.
...?!
yeah, i agree.
Then it boiled down to me sewing it.
so it became an aircon vest, with pockets velco-ed onto it to pack ice-packs into. you know, the things you use when you get a fever, sprain an ankle, whatever. Easy to say, fucked up shit to sew with a defiant sewing machine!!! I supposed the ol' Singer didn't like me that much, esp after I broke 5 needles on it, only to abandoned it the last time I used it, maybe at least 2 months ago...
It took me 7 fuckin', cursin' hours, not counting the 2 hours shopping for it. It REALLY didn't like the knit material. Too stretchy. Too holey. But I triumphed! hehe.
By then, the whole fuckin' day was shot. The much publicised day at the library to catch up on school work? Pretty much screwed at 10 at night, even if you ignore how pissy and tired I was then. I sneezed, and bits of green knit fabric and black thread came out. EWWW.
I will take pictures of it, and show it off here; because if there's only one thing I am insanely vain about, its the things i DIY-ed. I fully expect to be SHOWERED in PRAISES then. HEHHEHE!
and with that, good night! now i'd stop being busy procrastinating my media critique.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Clang-clang, Maxwell's silver hammer came down upon her head...
i hate a certain style of blogging that pertains to airing dirty laundry.
so i sit here, procrastinating writing my script that i promise to hate, and waiting for inspiration to strike me. though, hopefully not in the face.
should i tell you about my weekend? i'm too lazy to.
la la la, goes an annoying tune in my head.
so la la la, goes that annoying tune into you silly readers' heads too.
see, there doesn't seem to be very much to talk about, when you censor the stuff that really bothers my heart.
when you remove the petty little details,
the storm that brews in everyone's minds, clashing doubts, anger, strands of pain, awash with bleak naivety.
ah crap! see, i've gone and went too close to have done it! what foreplay is to sex, is what this is to dirt laundry.
dirty, dirty, dirty.
now, if i were my friend and i came to this page and read this bit above, i would have shaked my head at me and thought to myself, poor little me, sooo sad. all that angst, angst, ANGST, in my poor little life.
that was sarcasm by the way.
digressing, i think my friendster testimonial board is hilarious. it isn't testimonials anymore, its a forum-that-exists-in-three-parts, and according to MOT, that's one of the first steps to becoming a TWIT, aka ah lian! so there, jimmy!
does anyone out there watch one tree hill?
and does anyone know how to fix this column so that its MUCH wider?
yeah yeah, hi aaron. yes, u are in a blog! he thinks its second only to being mentioned in the news. you need a better aim in life.
i hate a certain style of blogging that pertains to airing dirty laundry.
so i sit here, procrastinating writing my script that i promise to hate, and waiting for inspiration to strike me. though, hopefully not in the face.
should i tell you about my weekend? i'm too lazy to.
la la la, goes an annoying tune in my head.
so la la la, goes that annoying tune into you silly readers' heads too.
see, there doesn't seem to be very much to talk about, when you censor the stuff that really bothers my heart.
when you remove the petty little details,
the storm that brews in everyone's minds, clashing doubts, anger, strands of pain, awash with bleak naivety.
ah crap! see, i've gone and went too close to have done it! what foreplay is to sex, is what this is to dirt laundry.
dirty, dirty, dirty.
now, if i were my friend and i came to this page and read this bit above, i would have shaked my head at me and thought to myself, poor little me, sooo sad. all that angst, angst, ANGST, in my poor little life.
that was sarcasm by the way.
digressing, i think my friendster testimonial board is hilarious. it isn't testimonials anymore, its a forum-that-exists-in-three-parts, and according to MOT, that's one of the first steps to becoming a TWIT, aka ah lian! so there, jimmy!
does anyone out there watch one tree hill?
and does anyone know how to fix this column so that its MUCH wider?
yeah yeah, hi aaron. yes, u are in a blog! he thinks its second only to being mentioned in the news. you need a better aim in life.
Friday, January 13, 2006
take me down to the paradise city, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty...
i'm obsessed about tattoos.
i'm obsessed about tattoos.
beautiful.
shouldn't even have bothered, nicole!
die-hard fan! i wish i could meet the guy.
a lovely ankh, protected from me by some nifty html.
a reminder to people from countries where they are deemed mature at 18. i fear for them, really.
and on a whim, i googled "apple tattoo".
helloooooo geek world!
a surprisingly large number of results too.
i did hesitate a little before adding this one, but what the hell.
*wolf whistle*
it's the stories they manage to hide under the thinnest membranes.
self-expression at its most primitive.
but whatever you do, don't try to touch their tats.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
i'd always thought i'd react better to a poem written for me.
i have no idea what to blog. the delicate balance between what is my own fuckin' business and the other stuff is a circus trick that boggles my mind.
okay, it's me being lazy.
here's a shout out to my ever so persistent reader. yes, singular. my determined blogging mentor,
why the fuck is this so small?!
HELLO FIFI!
ignore the incredibly loud top that i am wearing. it almost glows in the dark. which is really helpful in my closet full of black, black, black and BLACK tops. fashion rut, anybody?
i call it slutty in the jungle.
fana brought up an interesting issue today.
can vegetarians eat animal crackers? or gummy bears or hello panda for that matter???
i reckon that it's a secret indulgence/deflection for them.
hello little fellow. what big feet you have. oooh, sorry there it goes. i wonder if you're really this chewy. does panda taste chocolatey? i'm not missing out on much then anyway right?
i'd always assumed that it was against their principles, until our hot debate on it eariler on msn. which happens to be a god sent for franticbusy friends, to remember why they completely adore each other.
i'm afraid of the prayer wheel my mom brought home last year. i came home to find that nosey woman in a fluster, because she'd pulled out the extremely thin sheet of prayer inscriptions to try to read (it was in arabic, or something equally unreadable to her) and it'd unravelled on its own. i didn't help much when i laughed and said that she'd better be careful, otherwise rolling it up the wrong way may curse us everytime she gives it a whirl. sort of like backmasking, wouldn't you agree? after various degrees of minor hilarity, we held it up, as still as we could, to see which direction it curled towards, then rolled it up and stuffed it back in. my smarty-pants idea! :)
we are on this topic because that little thing is sitting on the cupboard in front of me. i hope it understands the principle of good intentions.
to tie up this shit-for-brains entry that barely masks the fact that i'm typing in absolute nonsense, let's return to the subject of "it's hard to blog". what do i blog about? well i do know what i will NOT post..ah, make a list!
WHAT I WILL NEVER POST, THESE BEING THE THINGS I USED TO SHIT MYSELF LAUGHING OVER. (and we really should make miho look better then a hypocrite.)
1. questionnaires
"...how many times a week do you brush your teeth? or think about sex?"
erm?! i'd pass, thanks.
2. a list of things i want for my birthday.
really, no reasons needed. unless richard gere drops by my blog-of-2-posts. now
3, i guess. ask me. i'd take a leaf of out fay's book and tell you. (HEY FAYEE!)
3. cutsy pictures of me
'cause i don't have any. ruins my reputation as a "my ho".
4. in chinese
easy resolution to keep. han yu pin yin counts too. no offence, its only because of
my preprostrous standard at it. many can attest.
5. multiple online test results
unless it's freakin' rad.
Please note, this is not a sign of contempt for people who do the above. really.
...well except for number 3. and 5. oh and 2 too.
okay, everything but number 4, because i fully acknowledge that number 4 is on the list only because i'm bitter.
it's been a lovely and grammatically-hideous entry everyone. no head nor tail to it, loads of meandering, smeared my image even more and the blog would probably break one of the rules on the list for fun in the future. try not to take me too seriously darlings.
i have no idea what to blog. the delicate balance between what is my own fuckin' business and the other stuff is a circus trick that boggles my mind.
okay, it's me being lazy.
here's a shout out to my ever so persistent reader. yes, singular. my determined blogging mentor,
why the fuck is this so small?!
HELLO FIFI!
ignore the incredibly loud top that i am wearing. it almost glows in the dark. which is really helpful in my closet full of black, black, black and BLACK tops. fashion rut, anybody?
i call it slutty in the jungle.
fana brought up an interesting issue today.
can vegetarians eat animal crackers? or gummy bears or hello panda for that matter???
i reckon that it's a secret indulgence/deflection for them.
hello little fellow. what big feet you have. oooh, sorry there it goes. i wonder if you're really this chewy. does panda taste chocolatey? i'm not missing out on much then anyway right?
i'd always assumed that it was against their principles, until our hot debate on it eariler on msn. which happens to be a god sent for franticbusy friends, to remember why they completely adore each other.
i'm afraid of the prayer wheel my mom brought home last year. i came home to find that nosey woman in a fluster, because she'd pulled out the extremely thin sheet of prayer inscriptions to try to read (it was in arabic, or something equally unreadable to her) and it'd unravelled on its own. i didn't help much when i laughed and said that she'd better be careful, otherwise rolling it up the wrong way may curse us everytime she gives it a whirl. sort of like backmasking, wouldn't you agree? after various degrees of minor hilarity, we held it up, as still as we could, to see which direction it curled towards, then rolled it up and stuffed it back in. my smarty-pants idea! :)
we are on this topic because that little thing is sitting on the cupboard in front of me. i hope it understands the principle of good intentions.
to tie up this shit-for-brains entry that barely masks the fact that i'm typing in absolute nonsense, let's return to the subject of "it's hard to blog". what do i blog about? well i do know what i will NOT post..ah, make a list!
WHAT I WILL NEVER POST, THESE BEING THE THINGS I USED TO SHIT MYSELF LAUGHING OVER. (and we really should make miho look better then a hypocrite.)
1. questionnaires
"...how many times a week do you brush your teeth? or think about sex?"
erm?! i'd pass, thanks.
2. a list of things i want for my birthday.
really, no reasons needed. unless richard gere drops by my blog-of-2-posts. now
3, i guess. ask me. i'd take a leaf of out fay's book and tell you. (HEY FAYEE!)
3. cutsy pictures of me
'cause i don't have any. ruins my reputation as a "my ho".
4. in chinese
easy resolution to keep. han yu pin yin counts too. no offence, its only because of
my preprostrous standard at it. many can attest.
5. multiple online test results
unless it's freakin' rad.
Please note, this is not a sign of contempt for people who do the above. really.
...well except for number 3. and 5. oh and 2 too.
okay, everything but number 4, because i fully acknowledge that number 4 is on the list only because i'm bitter.
it's been a lovely and grammatically-hideous entry everyone. no head nor tail to it, loads of meandering, smeared my image even more and the blog would probably break one of the rules on the list for fun in the future. try not to take me too seriously darlings.
Thursday, January 5, 2006
Wednesday, January 4, 2006
Miho is a hypocrite sometimes.
Miho is a hypocrite sometimes.
whaaat?!
a blog from that girl, the one who ranted and raved about how narcissistic and superficial blogs were, declaring she'd never get one herself???
yeahhhh right.
Edited to Add:
Okay, okay, so my words came back to bite me in the ass!! A girl should only feel like an idiot so many times a day.
whaaat?!
a blog from that girl, the one who ranted and raved about how narcissistic and superficial blogs were, declaring she'd never get one herself???
yeahhhh right.
Edited to Add:
Okay, okay, so my words came back to bite me in the ass!! A girl should only feel like an idiot so many times a day.
Tuesday, January 3, 2006
Invictus, by William Ernest Henley
Invictus, by William Ernest Henley
Now, i do not claim to be good at literature, nor is this an attempt to be pompously important.
I have given up my much treasured chance to study lit as a student long ago, but am still yet a fan. This poem uplifts me whenever i feel invisible, dead and defeated; when even platitudes from my darlings can't.
Invictus by William Ernest Henley
OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Now, i do not claim to be good at literature, nor is this an attempt to be pompously important.
I have given up my much treasured chance to study lit as a student long ago, but am still yet a fan. This poem uplifts me whenever i feel invisible, dead and defeated; when even platitudes from my darlings can't.
Invictus by William Ernest Henley
OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
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