philos
liberté
princeps
memoria

close your eyes so you don't feel them.

they don't need to see you cry.

It's all about contradictions now. It's about clashing emotions, painful revelations, secret messages, tired hearts. Yes, the heart can get tired of breaking, didn't you know? There comes a point in time when it just cries out; stop. This needs to stop. We aren't going any where with this.

But the thing is, you don't really know that your heart has chipped off until you hear the pieces crash. And even then, it may not be your heart breaking. It could be the person next to you, a metre away, three hundred days ago, the other lifetime.

All around we have hearts that are tired, aching, breaking. We need the healing to begin. We need to realise that it's time we gave ourselves, and each other, a break.

Sometimes, it is good to run away. To run far away into this form of oblivion even you don't know of. And then, when you've reached that stage where nothing can ever hurt you, and you feel like you're on the top of the world, you will realise that maybe nothing really mattered, and nothing will matter anymore.

Then where will we be?

But until then, I am glad for the following. Thank you sumae for always being there. thank you tanneh for listening and understanding. thank you lun and xiumz. You guys were there to catch me when I fell.

I'm falling. I keep on falling. Maybe this is a perpetual state of unrest. This sense of falling.. Maybe it's here to stay.

It can't be that bad actually. I could get use to this.

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This was our secret. Yours and mine..

May it be, when darkness calls, your heart will be free.
You walk a lonely road. How far you are, from home.


Touch- and- Go
Sylvia Plath

Sing praise for statuary:
For those anchored attitudes
And staunch stone eyes that stare
Through lichen-lid and passing bird-foot
At some steadfast mark
Beyond the inconstant green
Gallop and flick of light
In this precarious park

Where vivid children twirl
Like coloured tops through time
Nor stop to understand
How all their play is touch-and-go:
But, Go! they cry, and the swing
Arcs up to the tall tree tip;
Go! and the merry-go-round
Hauls them round with it.

And I, like the children, caught
In the mortal active verb,
Let my transient eye break a tear
For each quick, flaring game
Of child, leaf and cloud,
While on this same fugue, unmoved,
Those stonier eyes look,
Safe-socketed in rock.

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there are times, when you just think to yourself..

i don't want to do this anymore. i want it to stop. i want to go away, and leave everything else. leave everything behind.

because you've realised you can't continue with this. you can't continue the facade, the pretense, the lies.

why do you subject yourself to this painful truth. why do you subscribe to something you don't believe in, or have no wish to believe in.

why do we follow through our days in a hazy pretense. why do you laugh without cheer, and smile without a thought.

why do you try so hard to fit in, but yet were never made to stand out. only those who want to stand out, do. maybe the rest just pretend they do.

why am i on the computer at such a unholy hour of the day. it is 12.12am. i am not functioning well. i am not even functioning good.

and yet i'm hanging around, thinking about the things best left forgotten.

i don't need to cry you see. crying is for those who have tears to shed. my eyes are dry. too dry.

maybe it's time we all stood back, away from everything, and see who we're surrounded by. who can profess to be different, when we all breathe the same air anyhow. what makes me think i am unique, special.

and what's so great about being special anyhow. if everyone was special, no one will be.
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I've been reading my class's angst blog entries, and I've noticed a common thread throughout the way I think, and the way some of them seem to think.. But then again, it's just little ol' me talking, and you see, one heart beating can never summon an ocean's roar, and as much as you would like to believe the chaos theory, a butterfly flapping its wings in China will hardly create a typhoon in Florida. But never mind that.

I think, that we look for some semblence of perfection in this imperfect world. We try to make sense of it all, breaking it down to analyse it as only humans do, and then realise that we are, after all, imprefect beings.

And we get disappointed with ourselves, and with the people around us, because either they can't see the real us through the layers, or we don't even know who we really are, for all our multi-layered facades.

Ironic isn't it. Our disappointment lies with the fact that we feel, think, react, just as humans do. But I suppose that's what angst is all about. And that is what the human experience really is. Contradictions, paradoxes, ironies. That's life for you.

What will people say at your funeral. Will they shed crocodile tears at your passing, and who will be able to sum up the life you've led, in all its entity. Your tears, your triumphs, your pain, your love. How will your lifetime be viewed and described, and would you have mattered? Were you really valued...

The thing is, does it really matter? You're dead already, aren't you.

Perhaps that is a highly simplistic manner of looking at things, but really. You can't live your life hoping that the world will value you for who you are, or what you've been. If you do, you're basing this whole lifetime on society, on influences, on people.

You bring value to yourself. You love yourself, and what you can do, and what you can't. So I say, let others worry about your eulogy. Let them try to find some fantastical things we've done in our lives. We have enough to worry about, living this life as it is, as we as individuals would like it to be.

Don't live life for your eulogy. Live it for you.
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I'll backtrack to the holidays, because today is a super free day, which I spent extremely productively hanging around holland village consoling myself over writing the World's Worst Economics Essay. (afternote: those are double alliterations!) I bought many many things to make me happy, which is not a good way to spend money, but oh well. Since the price mechanism is so spontaneous, it's time I was too.

I managed to catch Pop Rock Justice (Mosaic Music Festival!) on friday! And I heard Deb Fung! Her vocals were terrific. And her song choice was terrific. And some members of the audience were really spellbound. It was all cool. And I got free (drumroll please)

coffee stirrers and mosaic coasters! It made my day. (: Thanks adam for accompanying me at such late notice!

AND I met my dear Li Yan McCurdy, wen ting, and Cindy Chng! Happiness.
And then on sunday I had a fantastic durian party. I didn't know that 'tis the season to be jolly durianing, but the durian was good, says the durian-hater. I used to be disgusted by that murky tasting durian stuck to a shriveled seed, but not any more. Durian is the way to go.

I am addicted to almond Soya milk. I can drink 1 litre a day, and still crave. But it's just a phase, and all part of growing up. It used to be guava juice, then dried guava, then evian water, then lobster bisque. But I move on man.

The latest update is that I have a case of shin splints. And I pulled something, and so my thigh socket feels weird and out of alignment. I need to hobble, and even then it hurts just a little. And my finger, the one I crushed during netball practice, is swelling up again. I think I may actually be as accident-prone as smoot ;)

I have three concerts coming up.. Just thinking about them makes me tired already, and it's barely 7.30pm. Sleeping at 10pm is a good time. PT is tomorrow! Maybe if I wish the splints away, they will leave me alone..

On another note, I've realised how people seem to have very different perceptions of themselves, but the thing is, the world sees them in such a different light. So who are they really? Are you what the world thinks you are, or are you who YOU think you are. When you look in that mirror, do you see someone who is too busy trying to hide her flaws to realise that flaws can be part of the perfect combination of being you.

I mean, what hurts more? Self-doubt, or doubt from this wretched world. When the world turns her back on you, and you are left grasping at little offerings of happiness and sanity, do you start to build yourself up and move forward, or do you admit that the world's perceptions are by far more important then the objective truth in you.

It is not my intention to load my whole entry with some fuzzy duddy things bordering on painful philosophy. But there is really far too much doubt going around, and most of it is self-directed. I know, because I've felt it too, and the people around me seem to be feeling the full force of Doubt crashing upon them. And you really wonder, why do these people doubt, when they have such happy little lives. Are we not happy, in our own little ways?

Thing is, I could go on forever about how terrible it is to be living at this time and age. Given a choice, I would gladly choose a time and place where we don't live guided by the hands of the clock. There are clocks everywhere in school. Practical maybe, but why do we live our little lives by the hours, the minutes, the seconds.. Our lives are walking time bombs, and we're just ticking away.

And the WORSE thing is, we live these clueless lives cocooned in little cardboard classrooms or computer rooms, or bed rooms, and we forget that there is a world out there, with real people, with real tragedies like hurricanes and earthquakes. And not just that, we have the little things like China's female infanticide, we have girls barely 12 thrown down wells because they were stared at by the opposite gender.

is this fair.

You can always say, life wasn't meant to be fair. Or maybe, that fairness is after all subjective, and so are the practices of different cultures and societies.

Whatever.

Think about the lives lost just because the chosen chromosomes were XX. Think about the injustice, the pain and the torment. And, (what I think is infinitely worse) think about how they have never tasted freedom. Never known what it meant to be equal. In the eyes of society, in the eyes of the law, in the eyes of the men, in the eyes of the women. Rights of Woman.

Think about that, and then talk about the subjectivity in fairness, and whether there isn't blatant inequality, whether we should just sit back and watch, because after all, such terrible things aren't happening in sunny Singapore.

I don't say these things because I can't stand the male species. I do think that all those terrible bad guys should just go drown themselves, but that's besides the point. It isn't entirely their fault. We're all to blame. All of us women, who feel that we are in some ways inferior to males, and perhaps we are, But even if we are, we may unconsciously believe that our inferiority is in some way greater than the inferiority in men.

The Indonesia workers' treatment of women from today's geog presentation.. Pregnant women sacked for being pregnant. The absurdity in that is amazing.

Sure, being a profit-seeking firm, companies have to ensure that workers are able to consistently produce work and are not a hindrance to the company. And because of this, FOR THE GOOD of the company, and in the long run, the SOCIETY at large, we allow these gross grievances, and we accept them, because we are, after all, open-minded and fair-minded individuals.

Why do we allow these excuses to guide our reasoning, and why are we swayed by the GOOD of the firm, or society? Why is it so easy to accept that. Should the women then apologise for being pregnant, and for being such a burden to the economy's growth. ughh.

Oh no I didn't mean to rant. Ranting is bad. And I don't know where all that came from. (I think I do.) Maybe this little outlet in my brain sprung a leak, and these thoughts just poured out.
And maybe, they're here to stay..

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Because I am never broken.
Because when I fall, I don't fall apart.
Because I don't forgive my weaknesses
Because I don't have excuses.

Because I don't reach for the sky,
so I won't fall too fast, or too hard.
Because I know where I should be,
and where I will never be.

To you?
Or to me.

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A13A sleepover!

Firstly, THANK YOU sumae for so kindly letting us make such a big mess in your house. It was so super fun, with the pool and the attic and everything.. (:

SLEEPOVER ROCKED. Everything about it- the morning macs walk, the great dinner, the waterbomb fights, the girls VS guys dunking, the germ pool, the murderer, the soccer match on tv, the golfing, the truth & dare, the teasing, the jamming, the communal singing, the horror, THE RING, the laughter, the spiral staircase, the wabbits of angst and yellow submereen..

Sumae's frog pooped on rayner's hand. And william thought it would be fun to spray foam on me. And sabby gave me a good scare when she started towards me with that foam can, and then while I was sneaking away to the other side of the glass panel, she suddenly appeared there holding the darn can in mid-air like a dagger. It was majorly scary.

The water bomb fight was crazy. I was running around the grass screaming like a headless chicken, because the guys just decided that it would be really cool to fill half the bucket with water and drown me with it. But we showed true girl power, and constantly "protected" each other and looked out for any devious male plans, and so I didn't get drenched that many times, although I was soaked to the bone by water bombs. And onyee really is a fighter man!

And then when we sat around in the germ pool I was sitting so awkwardly between david and peck, because the water was seriously greyish. Peck was telling me to relax, but hello, I was half submerged in this dubious mixture, and it was really windy outside. In the end, I was expelled from the pool by my dear classmates because I looked sick. Which was a good opportunity for me to take nice touching shots of the class and our "wet look". (:

There were certain instances during the course of the night, and that was when me and smoot stood at the balcony and talked it all out. I realised many things about people, and things about myself, and I don't know if insecurity is a universal sort of thing to feel when we all grow up, or if the feeling I felt was unique only to certain particular events.. I don't mean to say insecurity is a novel feeling. I mean that the feeling in this certain way much akin to insecurity, is such an unidentifiable sort of emotion. I don't know. It was strange to realise things about yourself at 12am on a humid night on a balcony, but yeah. Strange things happen to strange people. So.

I really loved singing with michelle and sara. We sat around for a while around the piano, and sang all those lovely songs. I think sara and michelle have an amazing musical talent. And david's guitar skills are amazing. Suang played a beautiful piece on the piano too. We really do have serious musical talent in our class!

And then I had my first opportunity to watch football with guys randomly yelling out commands or curses. It was mildly amusing, but then I realised that there is indeed a certain beauty in the game. I remember telling marcus once that soccer is all about a couple of apes chasing a black and white ball around a muddy and spit-ful field. And his rebuke was hilarious! "You leh. Study so hard, in the end still die". :p But anyway..

The pictures will speak for themselves..

Thank you a13a (:
We are indeed, one of a kind.

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Adam says he wrote this early last year, and is rather embarassed about it. But I like it (:

blame me for laughing

I am the sort to think in silly ways
about the sun and moon
and to be thoughtful on some evenings
and frivolous other times

I could hum you a tune
or write poetry to the whispering grasses
I could give darkness a thousand names
and one;

but I'm afraid- and sorely so
of that which is tuneless;
nameless, yet sweet
and kindly giving

but I'd let go of my sunsets
and silly tunes and
useless philosophies;
if only you'd teach me
what's missing.

- adam

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What if one day, someone came up to you and told you that nothing mattered to him, that life was just an empty vacant hole, a void used to ensnare the foolish and deceive the wise. Just a way of measuring time, just a manner of letting one's heart beat the seconds of life, only to get older by the minute, more unsure by the second.

What if he told you now, that we may very well vanish soon, vanish into painful oblivion, and that we can't have happiness, because if we find happiness, it will be over all to soon, and what would we be left with, but the memories of what once was?

I recall martin's fear of happiness. The only way we know we felt happiness is when it is over. And it's true. We would only be left with the shell of joy, the remnents of a certain emotion that allowed us to bubble over with inexplicable joy, and we will be grasping at the leaves of Memory.

I think I have been talking to old buddies who have changed, matured, grown up, and grown weary and wary. Friends who don't find meaning in their existence, who are not suicidal despite what the public thinks (unrequited love and whatnots), but are tired of living, of life, of existence, and it's lack of purpose.

But really, do we all live our lives devoid of meaning and purpose? Do we blog about things like the next fashion trend, and live only for such trivial appreciations? What have we ever done to warrant or even justify our existence..

Do we have it all wrong? Did you think that life is meaningless and unimportant, because the world has not presented opportunities for you to live it well, because you think you can go on in your little world, cocooned from the realities of life, and then decide to deem life unnecessary.

We are sadly mistaken. It is us who have to justify our existence. We are on this soil for some reason unbeknownst to many, but the question is what we are going to do about it. It is arrogant (and oh so human) to assume that the world has to prove its 'worthiness' to us. Instead, it is our worthiness we have to prove. Is anyone, everyone worthy of being called a brother, a sister, a leader, a friend.. and how do you measure up?

I will soar on eagle's wings. I will fix my eyes on you Jesus, as I run this race. and my strength is restored.

As it is now, when I am left alone with my thoughts, and I feel the walls of Reason crushing against me, I am reminded of our little prayer in the hoomroom.

My faith will not be shaken, because I know inside what really has made a difference in the way I live my life, and in the miracles, YES, the miracles that have happened, I don't want to attribute it to the trivial human term Fate. That is a pitiful excuse. What is fate but a social construct, existing to bring a value or give a name to the things we cannot explain..

I do tend to go on and on about such things, I realise. When I look back at all I've said in this little place on the global web space, I wonder whether I will be amazed at the feeble way I construct self-directed arguments.

On a lighter note, I spent the whole day yesterday being sick and finishing my theory exam. Just for self-mockery, I couldn't identify my german sixth, and I didn't know whether the piece was by beethoven or mahler, and I forgot all about my auxiliary notes, and I composed a piece of disgusting music because I could only hear the humming of evil germs in my brain. And I died from exhaustion halfway through the paper, and decided to take a short siesta. And I want to murder corelli.

I hope I pass.


Anyway, I went out to holland v last night with STACE to celebrate my completion of the dreadful theory exam, despite feeling a little like crap. She suggested drinking serious alcohol to kill the germs, but I'm no fool (seriously). So she bought me jolly shandy, which has 0.5% alcohol, so that I wouldn't get murdered by mum. (I still remember the last time I drank jolly shandy, I was incoherent and headachy. Mum was rolling her eyes at my fantastic tolerance level.) Anyhow, I didn't drink it.

Then we met a few happening people pubbing. I think we're too young for this sort of thing. There were many hugs, "hellos, so where are you studying now", stuff like that, but I was feeling quite terrible already, and I didn't have any voice left, so poor stace had to talk enough for the both of us. I finally went to deep slumber at haagen dazs, despite the tempting waffle dream with rum and raisin. The germs were mutilating my cells. Sorry stace.. ): muahh.

On a random note, I found certain pictures of my sister and me, and have come to the conclusion that we do look kind of alike!






This guy at the busstop thought we were twins (: Wicked.

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I am seeeeeeeck..
And today is my theory exam...

Oh may the fiery ash of medication consume the fading of my mind and crush the indomitable strength of the restless wandering manifestations of peaceful benign cells, and render them incapable of multiplying for the sake of my augmentation and dimunition and german sixths.

And to top that, I have a a cappella performance tonight for a very good cause.. I will get well NOW.

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O2 has ended!

At first many of us were whining at the pure waste of time we'd spend during a re-orientation, but to our surprise (that is such an over-used phrase..) it was great fun and extremely enjoyable. (: There was some serious og bonding time, and Charmille is totally close knit and tight man. We had og lunch at ikea (to crazy wild laughter) where I ate the swedish meatballs (what else man) and a delectable piece of choc almond cake that was oh-so-sinful. Terrible..

And og dinner at swensens! We had a few crashers, but it was really fun. Watched some videos of wacky RI guys from asif's cam phone, and it is really amazing how either people change so much, or they seriously have a totally different side to them ;) secrets revealed!

Just before the O2 video we played many Polar bear games, and I am such a lousy guru / polar bear you will not believe it. The very first time everyone awakens, they either kill me off, or I get killed off by the polar bear. Sad case. Shuyu would just go "It's chermaine! She looks too happy!" etc. Depressing stuff man.

A13A class love! Me and Char went around the hall before batchgive today, looking for fellow 13A-ers, and whenever we found any we'd run up to them and give a BIG cheesy grin and go "Hiii!!" Way fun. We met 14 people in the course of this classLOVE activity.

I have PT tomorrow morning. Hope my legs can carry me through a 2.4km jog. If not, let me not faint and die during dance! Muscle cramps are not good. Not good at all. Ouch.

Just to end this on a happy smiley note: (in random order)
char mingsee mingyan sara smoot aditi onyee els sara mich bren sru julee

xueyang rayner ben annL william david daniel suang peck martin

BIG VIRTUAL HUGS ALL AROUND.

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I've finally bought my sister a birthday present, and it cost me a cool $50. Thankfully she loves it, so everything works out just fine.

The day just began bad, and I have no idea why. It could be that there wasn't any milk in the fridge, so I couldn't enjoy my honey oats. Or it could be that after embarking on my turmulous theory adventure, I find myself at lost and having forgotten my ragtime, jazz and even twentieth century knowledge. Which technically means I am left with concerto grossos and trio sonatas oh save me. I don't mean to angst yet again, but somehow I don't believe I can finish a History of Music and Art revision by today. And it doesn't help that I have cca every day save thursday next week.

But I will try my best. Really.

On a happier note, shopping yesterday was extremely eventful. Mum got an esprit jacket for a steal, and naturally my sis did some major spending. And there was a great jazz singer performing at paragon, with a accompanist playing a pretty shiny black piano. (: That aside, dinner was really good because we met up with gramps and gran! And I had a good hearty meal to cheer up the spirits (:




lobster n chicken (: It wouldn't surprise me if I actually have high cholesterol and "die that way".


steeeak




She thought the turkey sausage resembled that-which-should-not-be-named..

And on an even happier note, there will be NINE people from ny 209 will be rj-ers come monday! NINE! eunice sarah elaine xiaole daisy libing baoli elvina. One big happy reunion guys..

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wherever it may take me

I know that life wont break me

when I'm feeling weak

and my pain walks down a one way street

I look above and I know

I'll always be blessed with love

Yesterday was extremely eventful. Jazz was super cool, because I got to hang with my band and jam! We're getting ready for our gig on 24 March, and so a few of us were hanging out in the prac room. Sara and tania (keyboardists), adam (elec guitarist), gao yuan (sax) and me (vocal).

After that, me and adam met sneha and huanglu, and we ran went to the esplanade for the Fringe Fest's Migrant Voices! I never knew music in Singapore could be so versatile, by the very nature of the fringe fest itself. It was great that sneha was beside me translating the tamil lyrics for me, because their music was great, and it would have been a waste not the understand their lyrics as well. And the drummer for Seven Sundays had so much energy! He was smashing around for half an hour straight, and he never lapsed or messed up. Incredible. We do indeed have some serious talent just waiting to be discovered.

If only I could go for today's performance.

I haven't touched my theory. Exam is in a week's time. If I fail I want everyone reading this to go "I TOLD YOU SO". Thank you. And punch my face in while you're at it. I am the epitome of lazy goodfernuthing, and I am Laziness personified. I had a good heart-to-heart talk with myself about my attitude, but do you see me studying my italian, french and german terms? No. Do I know what augmented german sixths are? No. I think I broke whatever hardworking bone in my body I was born with. I didn't even care about my math test which I thought was counted. I need therapy. I need counselling. I need an attitude adjustment. And I need one NOW.

Going shopping later on. My sister has to buy new nike br_s again. Again. She has goodness knows how many already.

My eyeballs hurt again. Maybe I should pluck them out. (Oh that was just gross). This entry is barely coherent. Maybe when I look back at the lousy things I am saying, I will laugh at myself one day.

One fine day.

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When you're feeling terribly tired, and when the world is against you and your kind, and you feel like tearing at your hair and grabbing your eyeballs because they hurt, and when you can't take the noise and racket your head is making, and when your heart is at war with yourself, and you feel like breaking something __

listen to chinese chingchong songs. I've spent the last half hour slouching next to my overheated beautiful nano listening to unknown jay chou songs. And the coolest thing is I don't understand a single word he sings, apart from the random "bu1 yao4"s and something to do with wind and black coats. Why his album is called november's chopin I will never understand. He is nothing like chopin, november is an insignificant month, he is not a Romantic, and he is definitely not Polish. But never mind, he is a good topic to go on and on about.

Today was a rare day. Why rare, because I finally got to do some shopping and serious browsing. I spent all of this month's allowance, congratulate me. And I went around eating everything sold from the basement of J8. I bought some cute looking cookies from Mrs Fields, some kaya toast, egg tarts, tiramisu from sweet secrets, papa roti, chicken cubes, pork slices, green tea soya bean, you name it, I got it. It's called retail therapy yo.

That's my current level of pathetic-ness. I am undoubtly in the throes of misery over the impending doom that is to come. If A13A splits, I will be infinitely miserable. I thought it would last forever.

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