deconstructing life

i know that i've got issues, but you're pretty messed up too.

to all: i'm sorry that i'm forcing you to ride this roller coaster with me.

YOU! are dead to me.
and so...

Alternative histories are intriguing indeed. Goes to show that we don't experience each moment the same. Happy new year people. My first moments were spent under a sky of light; hope.

You know, happiness is in the doing, right, not in the… getting what you want. So, he's sitting there, and just at that second, his little five year old daughter hops up on the table. And he knows that she should get down 'cause she could get hurt, but she's dancing to this pop song, in a summer dress. And he looks down, and all of a sudden he is sixteen. And…his high school sweetheart is dropping him off, at home. And they've just lost their virginity, and she loves him, and the same song is playing on the car radio, and she climbs up and starts dancing on the roof of the car. And now, now he's worried about her! And she’s beautiful, with a facial expression just like his daughter‘s. In fact, you know, maybe that's why he even likes her. You see, he knows he's not remembering this dance, he's there. He's there in both moments simultaneously. And just like for an instance, all his life is just folding in on itself and it's obvious to him that time is a lie.

like brittany murphy, i will die a age 32 of a cardiac arrest despite being completely healthy. before i die, this will be in my mind: WTF AM I THINKING THE DAY BRITTANY MURPHY DIED?

journal is (partially) locked.

time slows everytime i do one of these, and i always stop to think if we can ever get used to happiness. some places in this world people have more time to stop and love, and some places in this world people live day by day, a flurry of tasks todo, a myraid of dreams to live, an indefinite number of pay checks. in the first happiness is in a heartbeat precious and in the second happiness is what is what you figure it to be.

i know i won't feel like that anymore tomorrow morning, when the flurry of things have come to rest, and yesterday has come to past.
I feel:
nostalgic
bittersweet
tired
thankful
a bit intoxicated.

Perfection is coming out of una/c-ed chatterbox 3am into the cold wind, drizzle. That one moment I am back in Berkeley, it is fall, and the obama high consumes me like a choya plum in chardonne.

"XX, meet Huishan, who is currently doing her EL Honours and USP. The reason why I thought you should e-meet Huishan is because she reminds me of you very much in terms of her intellectual curiosity and breadth. (I have a feeling that, as I did in your case, I may have to bash her on her head to pursue a single question without getting distracted by other questions.) "

MOMO IS SO CUTE

a starbucks joint saw three friends non-caffinated, or maybe not. we talked about life love found and lost, and how death will continue to be a permanent discourse that marks the rest of our life. perhaps we can make a point to stop and think about it, but perhaps each person who lives has lived, and left our mark in our lives somehow, somewhere in time. how much to stop and think; no, how much time left for us to stop and think? sewei said we had at least four more twenty year blocks to go, but with each block a different group of people in our lives will leave us, and others join us. do we wait in this transience? do we wait till we're alone and we too leave, alone?

for years i've deluded myself into thinking that environmentalism is the product of US imperialism. But because deep inside i always knew i was deluding myself, the self-discovery that i'm actually one hell of a tree hugger is unsurprising yet scary at the same time. if there is hope for me there is hope still for you, you and you.

the voice lives on, when someone makes a stand.

I love my PGP room! It oversees the pasir pangjang port and reminds me everyday what singapore is made of. made up of millions of thankless migrant workers; what they left and will leave more permanent than their stay. Saw Ajan in school today but I didn't say hi! I should though. Am missing thailand, can't wait to be going back soon.

Meanwhile school has been awesome, as usual. Had an emotional fit in one of my classes last week when i blurted out to a professor that I don't feel I learnt anything after four years and that the NUS system sucks. Told him an english language degree from NUS is quite vague/useless; nine faces looking quite shock with a girlfriend nodding furiously beside me. Thank god he agreeed with me! Oh well, just part and parcel of academic bureaucracy and politics. and let me tell you this professor gave such a satisfying reply to my outburst. Already I know this class is going to be a blast.

Its also good to be back among the USPers, although chatterbox is now filling up with new faces;giving out the bad vibes i had gotten of it since I was a freshie. I think that when I was in year 2 I knew 80% of chatterbox. How could that be? Now I'm just resigned to the dinosaur room where fellow year 4s dwell.  I like that though, finding comfort in people you've known all these while; non-strangers, knowing at the end that these are the people that will wear that square hat with you. today we spoke about love lost, found, boys, babies. perhaps these are the few fleeting moments we have left.

Yacht day at keppel was the greatest thing I've done (we did) in a long time! We cruised around the southern islands only to find a pristine (maybe not but who cares) beach to frolick around in! Upon which stu also DID look like a native, lying on a rock with lion king ost and all. salfwater on my thirsty back, wine we couldn't finish. it was about the most perfect morning, and its really things like these that make life, friends and family so precious.

stuffy over porridge; we sprawl all over the weirdest spaces. I can't tell you how comfortable I am with you, you and you, and how many people I'm not that with. Back to the boys who have supper on repeat , after all these years this is what I have left of then, them.

I would cook if I had (1)pork ribs (2)carrots (3)a carriage of onions and (4) potatoes in my fridge. Since I have none of these, self pity manifests in the form of maggi mee. Of course I could just go down to get all of the items above, but unlike in berkeley where I could ride around in my volvo to safeway which is around the corner, its just me and sheng siong; incidentally not around the corner. oh yes i wish i had a volvo again. the weather in singapore is slowly killing me; and amen to maggie mee.

school is starting and i am desperately . And I mean desperately in need to relax and not do anything. I find it quite impossible, and I am at an impasse. the order of the phoenix, the half blood prince and memoirs of harry lee lie scattered all over my table but every minute someone talks or quarrels or both, every minute there is a whimper from the teevee, every fucking minute the drill drives me crazy and i can't decide which to read next. oh yeah, this is my life.

the smell of boxing oil filled the room we stroll into. excited, afraid, impending blood. a flurry of men in a corner, screaming ladies for a thousand baht. A green man who stood on a stool waving hand signals all around blocked most of my view and as the girls, boys and then men came on, the smile on his face waned. "OH" goes each time the men are locked in each arms, a bid to knee their way out. the bell rings and one match ends; red is on his knees, he bows to blue. we intrude into his private moment. The winner gets television time, a host of sponsors a multitude of products, glory for his family and that sweetheart a hundred miles from here. before we left i could only guess mr. green lost almost three thousand baht.

as we slipped from hard into soft mud, screams. a weathered man looks at me and spoke to me in teochew, such an uncanny affiliation in the most unthinkable of places. we were in the water now, every step we took seeped in mud. bryan insists on a pedicure. bunch after bunch of rice we straightened, made even and plunged into the mud. a girl pulls out a phone to take a picture of me, and for a moment i was the subject of a gaze i held to them all these time.