Friday, October 27, 2006
I Thought The World of YouThis is not making anyone sad,
Or inadequate,
It's just a way of toughening up.
You know what they say about them,
The pretty ones.
Their lives are too blessed.
It's surreal.
Pretty things get their way all the time,
While the rest watch on, holding up the backdrop for them.
We are the back drop.
When you stand at the back, though
You see things on hindsight,
And it becomes obvious.
The hyprorisy lying behind
A size 6 clothes tag,
Is more than just a "Size 6's out. Size 10's too big for you, yeah?"
Because
I can't see your "soul" clearly behind those beady eyes,
That's why! *blinks
Face it,
Those who claim that
this is not everything,
Don't have the right answer.
But the outlet for comfort.
This is everything and the only thing.
With the recent downpours, my brain seems to have taken a liking to hitting the snooze button. And that is weird because I NEVER snooze; unless I know there are monsters hiding under my bed or if I intend to skip classes and snoozing just adds to the kick of defiance. Then again, it just doesn't make sense to not crawl into the warm covers of your bed when it starts raining and you happen to be at home and not somewhere outdoors, digging into your bag, fishing out that umbrella you stuff in your bag dutifully everyday (yes! Finally, a chance to utilize it! After 723816 days of perseverance!) while praying hard in your heart that the rubber soles of your slippers don't give you the slip. (hurr.)
SO. The thing is, I've slept too much. 1-ish am to 11 am then for another 3 solid hours in the afternoon for almost as long as the rain went on.
That's half a day spent on sleeping?! No wonder I'm spending the other half in an extreme state of grogginess.
If you are reading this now and feeling extremely jealous because you're a total sleep-lover and you can't spend as much time sleeping, well, chances are, you probably have people to take you out on a weekend, so we're quits.
:)
21:58
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Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Midnight At The Oasis
Do you really think by glorifying the present and putting my past down at the same time will not upset me in any way?
If logic doesn't fail me, no one discards themselves between 10 minutes ago and this current point in time. So I don't see why you don't see I was the same person half a year, 3 months, 6 weeks, 5 hours or 2 seconds ago.
There is something in all of us which gets pricked too easily sometimes and it's called P.R.I.D.E. Mine just said, "Ouch."
"Thanks."
"And fuckk YOU."
***
I cannot stand/hate/loathe the feeling of having to search for money this way. I'm tired to the bones (I know you are too...) and it leaves me questioning once again.
Most of the times, we just grit our teeth and go one, lying to ourselves with the psychotic chants, "You're made of steel. Do what you need to do.".
Ignorant fools are the only ones who grimace.
***
It's been 1 second since I last felt stupid/silly,
3 minutes since I last yelled at someone,
25 minutes since I last had anything to eat or drink.
3 and a half hours since I felt threatened,
11 hours since I had my part of my speech corrected,
2 days since I last used conditioner on my hair,
67 bucks since I last had it tinted,
2 mascara wands since my last room clean-up,
1.5 inches of excess flesh since my last attempt at talking myself out of buying a piece of garment,
294 milliseconds since I last mused about you,
0.6 seconds since I last caught the lyrics to a Cranberries song,
3 friends' effort since I got talked out of it,
1 of me to get me crawling back to it,
6 hours and 38 minutes since I heard someone yakking away in foreign tongue,
0.5 of a fortnight since I last felt the Monday blues,
5/12 of a decade that I've indulged in a fantasy,
and
not a moment was caught in any of the above free of inadequacy.
00:35
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Sunday, October 22, 2006
MacBook Photography
My classmates are mad; 1's a crazily reckless driver (yay! I found someone as bad as meeee) and the rest go crazeee over my MacBook's photobooth function.
Photowhores, rejoice. The new MacBook will satistfy you.
22:03
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Saturday, October 21, 2006
Cusp
I was born on a cusp but I've been living in oblivion for the past 20 years.
For those born between 18 to 23 January, we are supposed to be Capricorn/Aquarius because... "the heavenly bodies were located on the cusp of the Aquarius and therefore, posseses the attributes of both the sign it is leaving and the sign it is entering."
Never mind if you don't believe in astrology.
If you've ever found me weird/eccentric, I understand and FORGIVE you.
So there is a reason behind my ambiguity! Never the true blue putnosetogrindstone, stickinthemud kinda Capricorn, though the ambitious part is something I'd agree with.
What an oddball. Hah.
01:20
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Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Stuff.
The simulacrum is never that which conceals the truth - it is the truth which conceals that there is none.
The simulacrum is true.
1. Simulacrum:
A copy of a copy which has been so dissipated in its relation to the original that it can no longer be said to be a copy. The simulacrum, therefore, stands on its own as a copy without a model.
2. Hyperreality:
A way of characterising the way the consciousness interacts with "reality". Specifically, when a consciousness loses its ability to distinguish reality from fantasy, and begins to engage with the latter without understanding what it is doing, it has shifted into the world of the hyperreal.
Sociologist Jean Baudrillard (born July 29, 1929) began his work on culture by studying the semiotics of advertising and consumption. He noted that reality was being increasingly replaced by sign systems that recodified and replaced the real.
Instead of real cars or refrigerators, we come instead, under a regime of controlled consumption shaped by marketing and advertising, to consume signs of status or self-identity.
In a deconstructive mode, Baudrillard argues that eventually in contemporary times, the referent disappears altogether and people come to live in pure simulations, replications of reality that resemble it in all respects save they are representations through and through.
In Baudrillard's most famous assertion of such simulations, he mantained that the Gulf War of 1990 "did not happen". In those events, reality was so shaped by the media and so replaced by representations that the events might as well have not happened. All that people "knew" or "experienced" of them came to them through carefully controlled images.
The idea of "Disneyfication": Disneyland is a perfect model of all the entangled orders of simulation. To begin with, it is a play of illusions and phantasms: pirates, future world, the perfectly clean premises etc. Disneyland is there to conceal the fact that it is the "real country", all of "real" America, which is Disneyland. It is no longer a question of a false representation of reality, but of concealing the fact that the real is no longer real, and thus saving of the reality principle. It is meant to be an infantile world, in order to make us believe that the adults are elsewhere, in the "real" world, and to conceal the fact that real childishness is everywhere, particularly among those adults who go there to act the child in order to foster illusions of their real childishness.
*****
Confusing? Basically, the world we are living in now is not real; it is hyperreal.
Can I consider it a kind of indulgence then?
I recall a certain Mrs. Baddily rolling her eyes at us during GP when it was apparent that none of us had taken the 'Disneyfication of Singapore' (or something along that line) article seriously. And now, more than 2 years on, I actually find this same stuff fascinating.
00:29
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Monday, October 16, 2006
Seven Days In Sunny June
"That I've known you too long for us to have a thing." - I do think it's a legitimate excuse.
These days, I've taken to sleeping late, sometimes little. Nu Jazz sounds so much better when night falls and Jay Kay from Jamiroquai is my new iTunes buddy. (:
I believe I'm in love with an 80 year-old man!
I don't have to point out which one's him, right?
Fish very kindly acceded to my kinda last minute request of catching a show on Saturday and we ditched 'The Departed' for 'Scoop'. I was intent on giving Scarlett Johansson a chance at redeeming herself after 'The Island (god, she was practically a walking hua1 ping2 (with lots of boobs) in that one!) since there has been so much good press about her and her pretty widely-acclaimed acting skills. Plus, I've got to see for myself what kinda woman is worthy enough of Mr. Hartnett right? Hurrr. I really shouldn't be calling her a bimbo anyway, because throughout the entire movie, Fish and I were speculating about who the mystery (cute, funny-cute) little old man is.
"Ehhh, who is that old man? He looks damn familiar!"
"Oh really, errrr... I dunno..."
Then I saw the 'Directed and written by Woody Allen' printed on the movie poster plastered outside the theatre.
And it was only after I got home that I realised that uber good-looking hunky actor is none other than Hugh Jackman, aka Mr. Wolverine himself.
Talk about missing the obvious, huh.
Damn hua ping, you distracted me!
(Finally, a regular entry. (;)
00:11
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Monday, October 09, 2006
WHY?
I abuse it
so
I
don't have to
face up
to
the consequences.
Scars won't form if the wounds don't heal. There has to be a way out.
23:43
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Saturday, October 07, 2006
Hugo:
All my life I always wanted to fly. I always wanted to live like a hawk. I know you're not supposed to be jealous of anything, but... to take flight, to soar above everything and everyone, now that's living. But a hawk is no good around normal birds. It can't fit in. Even though all the other birds probably wanna be hawks; they hate him for what they can't be. Proud. Powerful. Determined. Dark. Odin is a hawk. He soars above us. He can fly. One of these days, everyone's gonna pay attention to me. Because I'm gonna fly too.
- O
Awww. I'd still love Josh even if he was a psychotic, green-eyed monster and murderer all rolled into one. :)
23:21
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