phyllis*

two day self declared holiday:

wine and rain, eggs and coffee. my friends are blossoming like unnamed flowers. i find so much beauty in their speech and eyes and bones

i want to marry the rain, to merge with the sounds of falling. Gravity, pull me nosedived and free, there is only one way to go.

i will save this moment. thin water lines rolling down painted walls, thunder competing with the drilling above. the twenty second scent of wet grass the only warning before the sky lights up. i will save it for a day when it is raining where you are-- then i'll open this box and we can watch the storm together.

that time we lay below a reflective roof and watched raindrops fall in slow motion we should have stuck out our tongues and tasted it, consumed it whole.

time for sleep and leisure reading, arundhati roy and satyajit ray and dalit poetry. i'm declaring a two day holiday before studying begins. no more falling asleep writing essays in bed!

just completed my last essay of the year. i don't know why i treat this space like an academic progress report. all i want to do is sleep, undisturbed. last night i was kept awake with thoughts of kings of convenience coming back to singapore (just a rumour...) and with strange dreams of fear, familiarity, cinemas i used to frequent. running across grass patches away from fearsome mothers and old lovers. i hate dreams, they either unsettle you, or leave you overly happy coming slowly down to reality. my mother says dreams occur when you eat within the hour you fall asleep. food and sleep, i wish you got along better under these sheets

Yeah, who else but crotch-thrusting head-banging Poison! Give it up for these sexxxx machinezzzzzzzzzz.

So, I was feeling like shit the entire day, and looking like shit too. Took a cat nap that accidentally grew into a tiger and woke up feeling worse. But then I decided to blast some motherfucking Poison and like cake and magic, my entire life became better! There was a slight glimmer in my starless and Bible-black shithole of an existence and I began to once again believe in the universal lie that "Everything Will Be Alright".

Poison is The Shit, I tell you. Hair metal is The Shit. All that rock n roll fuck-you repertoire, all those well-hung dudes walking around in leather pants intentionally too tight to conceal that Almighty Bulge of heavy metal, all that fucking HAIR, all that backstage, onstage action, them sick crazy recycled riffs, and most importantly, all those chixxxx. Groupies are hot but '80s's groupies are fucking fast machines who kept their motors clean, shakin' you all niiiiight loooong.

I am beginning to notice my unhealthy obsession with All that is Sleaze and Tackiness. If it's tacky and it's sleazy and low-down dirty in-your-face nasteh, I'm there. Which would explain my undying love for my boo, Amy Winehouse, holllaaa to youu, babygurl.

Today, I thought about it and practically everything I remotely dig happens to be the exemplar of All that is Sleaze and Tacky. Trailer trash, rednecks, bikers, drunks, strippers, Spinal Tap, Suicide Girls, crotch thrusts, caged fighting... just to name a few.

Then, I came to two alternative conclusions (pop culture reference: badass multiple alternative endings to Wayne's World) (which also happens to be, like, THE best movie ever made?): I am,
either
1) Tasteless, totally dumb and culturally retarded, a somewhat complete embarrassment.
or
2) The coolest, raddest person who ever lived.

I couldn't choose which to go with, seeing as living by either one would highly probably/most definitely end in catastrophe and the ingestion of cheap alcohol. So... I decided to... Not have any point to this whole narration of crap and go back to writing my essay. Bye.


Obligatory kickass veeedeeeooo:

i find i do not like tagore's poetry: it reads too much like the bible to me.

I wish that I could do something right for once in my so-called life.
Just once, let me get something right.
I have never done anything right before, and this constant erring has manifested into a deep sense of intense self-loathing which I can't shake off. I just want one thing I can be proud of, you know? I just want to make it good, even if it's just for a day or a minute or two. I don't think I'll ever get used to being useless, or content with discontent. I don't want to live in fear and shame and constant fear of shame, I want to learn to stop hating myself and most of all, I want to climb the fuck out of this inadequacy that has plagued me my entire life. I want to stop failing. Please, just let me get something right.

becoming sloppy with words. i mean to write on buses, on margins and hands, but these days it never feels quite right. either that, or i fall asleep holding my pen and paper and some kind stranger always picks it up and places it gingerly in my sleeping lap, ignoring my open mouth. this week alone precious people celebrated their existence and i joined them in bits and pieces where i could. i always wish i could have arrived earlier, stayed later. surreal is saturday barefoot on the sand in the water at three am watching friends stare at the cosmos, feet wet in circular motion, drunk girls carried out one by one. bellies lolling. lovely is the picture above, everyone in exodus in a second of a sunday evening, and the cake uneaten.

uneaten cake moments are the best moments because there is that fragment of greed and wholeness just before it is shoved unceremoniously into a mouth. i am speaking like this because i'm thinking about december again. wzhen has a countdown board in the hall currently at 28 (more for her exams, and also to make fun of me) and i want it to freeze at 1. before arrival, before change, when i can anticipate without it being a countdown to departure-- almost perfection? it's always better to be on the brink of something.

--
oh i also had a real vegetarian day for the first time. it was great, but i think my temporary insanity is over. i can't do it. i don't know enough, am lacking real motivation, and am possibly too much of a barbarian. ended up stuffing my face with meepok pork lard tonight. might try again next week, hopefully with more success.

1. Had an especially good weekend in Manchester, walking along the Northern Quarter and taking swigs from a carton of soy milk while singing Last Night in the pouring rain. Sherman and I also spontaneously caught An Education in a little cinema with a piano, after I casually mentioned I'd been planning to see it.

2. Scattered thoughts on Continental feminism, which frankly isn't my cup of tea: I disagree with most of what Cixous has to say. I don't think there's a distinctly feminine style of writing and I have no trouble with language being linear and teleological. Next, Irigaray's point about lesbianism being liberating doesn't seem tenable in practice - she'd roll in her grave at the sight of modern-day lesbians rigidly organising themselves along the very lines she eschewed. I've always wondered if it's in our nature to ascribe binary gender roles to ourselves - or whether we're so accustomed to viewing ourselves in that light, that whenever we try to break out of one mould, we leap into another.

When I was with my first girlfriend, our relationship wasn't at all rigidly constructed, but I did detect some telling patterns. Though I was far from getting a crew cut or binding my chest, I relished small, frequent acts of gallantry, and I loved it when I wore jeans and she a dress. I recall a definite element of pleasure in these interactions, as if they made us more complementary - like playing police and thief. In any case, I'm sure there's an entire corpus of literature dedicated to exploring this matter, and I should refrain from ignorant speculation.

3. Last night I dreamt I was hopelessly restless, and wanted to go on an extended road trip, Beat generation-style. In reality I'd lose my way repeatedly, and rant about filthy motel rooms. I also dreamt I was back in secondary school and, to my chagrin, coerced into attending additional Chinese classes every evening. I protested passionately, citing the fact I'd already passed my A Level exam and dedicated my life to ethics. My teacher, stern and curly-haired, was unimpressed.

4. Synth guitars are so cool.

Loneliness, ineffectuality, entrapment and indifference at 8.30 a.m., haven't slept yet from the day before. My only relative solace now:
Led Zeppelin I, II, III, IV, Houses of the Holy, Physical Grafitti, Presence, In Through the Out Door, Coda.
:(

I hate watching the sun come up. It makes me feel misplaced and imbalanced. There is just something very wrong and disturbing about being present to watch the transition of the world from night to day (and vice versa).
Does this make me weird? Haha.
I've always thought it unnatural and kinda... intrusive. Deeply unsettling. Not much of a sunrise/set person.
Unless I happen to be atop a mountain, outside my tepee, smoking my marijuana pipe. Yeah.

two birthdays, two essays, one presentation, one test, and all i want to do right now is ikebana.

Screencap of my 1,500 word essay:




Screencap of my 3,000 word essay:




The above: Status quo for the past few weeks.

To further illustrate my failure: Not only am I not writing the essays, I am taking screencaps of Word documents in their foetal unformed-essay state and posting them here.

If all we knew, felt and did was dictated and imperative from a higher order, life, I believe, would undoubtedly be easier. If we were told to do as we should and did as we were told and believed in this way of living and code of conduct, it would be a world of a one-way street and a long narrow path, with no straying.

It might be akin to a life in North Korea but who's to say that regimented thinking and directed action are necessarily bad? What you don't know won't kill you (my personal mantra), so living under conditions you know no alternatives to ain't gonna cause no grief.

Most of all, life would be a whole lot less complex. Not so much paltry but effortless and uncomplicated. If you told me to build a bridge over a river with cement and stone and jump off it after, I would do as I was told, believe in what was told, know nothing other than the clean, clear, absolute direction of building a bridge over a river with cement and stone and jumping off it after. (Thankfully, I can swim. But that's another story.) Telling me what to do and how to live relieves me of the fucking exhausting task and endless routine of doing it myself. I don’t have to find my own direction, I don’t have to be my own person, I don’t have to decide between the options of A, B, C or, the MOST TERRIFYING THING, all of the above. I would save a whole lot of time spent flipping goddamn coins.

If we do as we are told, it will always be right and true. If all we know is what was were told, what we know cannot be wrong. There will be no wrong because we know no alternative to being right. What we have done, are doing and will continue to do, are the only and eternal ways to do what we do. Anything that isn’t, ceases to exist. So, baby, you'll always be doing that thing you do.

This life today: too many choices, too many doors, too many roads, too damn much room for dissatisfaction, dissent, error, envy, inadequacy and massive confusion. All this freedom tires and overwhelms. Straight lines were always simpler than mazes and mess.

i am sitting in my indian room listening to azure ray, watching incense curl out of the window, a powdery collapse, a burnt hole left behind. later i will make a lunch out of fresh tomatoes, zucchini, raisins, olive oil, and pasta curved like the moon. there are tea leaves afoot, and rain in the air.

stolen from haza:



overwhelmed by yasmin ahmad's Talentime, and underwhelmed by five hundred days of summer.

i want a photo of streets shiny with rain.

The good thing about being so ugly and boring is that no one has any expectations of you. No one's expectin' this dead dog to learn any new tricks, which can be good at times, because I can care a whole lot less. I don't have to wear the right things, I don't have to say the right things, hell, I don't even have to be present, on account of anyone marking my attendance.

Plus, I get to self-deprecate a whole lot WITHOUT sounding like an asshole because, my brothers, what I preach is The Truth. If you walk around looking real fine and whine about having a bad face day, people want to stick a couple of knives in your back and twist them around a bit. I, on the other hand, get to strut around looking like crap and acting like it and no one gives me no grief.

On another note, I didn't make it to school again today. I could have but I didn't want to. I blame the motherfucking distance. It's a bus ride to eternity and back and besides, I ain't got no money to pay for that ride. Having only ten bucks to my name isn't very fun. I've got to watch what I spend those last few dollars on.

Man, I have 3 essays due tomorrow and I can't do 'em because the books I need are all in school. Another due on Monday, which I can't do either. I can't and I don't.
I don't really want to do anything at all. I would like to do well, obviously, but I just ain't capable of even barely scraping through. I try to care but on days like these, it's really difficult to muster up any sense of responsbility for My Future at all. Off to have some stale breakfast now, bye.

P.S. I NEED A JOB. If anyone wants to hire me for anything at all (not too sordid though), PLEASE DO. I'm willing to work everyday and even over the Christmas period because I hate Festive Cheer and Joyous Spirit.

Wow, today, I endured a 2 hour bus ride with The Most Verbose Person in the Entire Galaxy.
I've known people who can talk the leg off a horse but this person could talk the trunk off a motherfucking MAMMOTH.
I've never heard anyone talk for so long without a single punctuation or pause for breath. Don't know how she didn't asphyxiate, dude must have gills on her neck.
Proper Respect.

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# All prices are in USD
# Items will be shipped from Singapore.
# All accessories are BRAND NEW and imported from Japan!
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NOTICE: I WILL BE AWAY FROM 14TH NOV 2009 - 22ND NOV 2009 AND THUS WILL BE UNABLE TO RESPOND TO ANY EMAILS OR COMMENTS NOR SHIP THINGS OUT.

( Follow the cut to calorie free goodness! )

Thanks for looking~! =D

Do take a look at my other sales posts as well~!
(JE: Kinki Kids, KAT-TUN, NEWS, V6)
(J-Pop/J-Rock/AMG: Ayumi, MAX, ELT, GLAY, Gackt, Malice Mizer, h.X, Chobits, Prince of Tennis)
(Fashion: Bodyline, Naraya)
(Paris Kids Accessories)

Question: Are you fucked?
Answer: Yes.

Question: Real fucked?
Answer: Yes.

Question: Could you be even more royally fucked (up the fucking ass)?
Answer: At this point in time, no.

This is the most fucked I can get.

Spent all my money, lost my phone, might possibly fail this semester and die a hobo.
The only good thing around now? The recent stormy weather which I hope keeps up in the following week. At least if I'm going down, I might as well go down in some windy weather and thunderstorm. That's how the best superheroes die.