Like I was discussing with Stacy the other day, I try to include reasons for why I choose to put certain chunks of lyrics on the blog because it just seems like such a lazy way of blogging otherwise; having a song there and expecting it to explain your feelings/situation for you.
But there are times when it's so apt, so fitting, you don't see the need or point in explaining.
Or sometimes, the song hits so close to home that you're scared.
Well you're the closest thing I have To bring up in a conversation About a love that didn't last But I could never call you mine Cause I could never call myself yours And if we were really meant to be Well then we justify destiny It's not that our love died Just never really bloomed
Well I can't let go No, I can't let go of you You're holding me back without even trying to. I can't let go I can't move on from the past Without lifting a finger you're holding me back.
And then we saw our paths diverge And I guess I felt OK about it. Until you got with another man, And then I couldn't understand Why it bothered me so. How we didn't die we just Never had a chance to grow.
I can't let go No, I can't let go of you You're holding me back without even trying to. I can't let go I can't move on from the past. Without lifting a finger you're holding me back.
And it might not make much sense To you or any of my friends Though somehow still you affect the Things I do. And you can't lose what you never had I don't understand why I feel sad Every time I see you out with someone new.
I can't let go No, I can't let go No, I can't let go of you.
I can't let go No, I can't let go of you You're holding me back without even trying to. I can't let go I can't move on from the past Without lifting a finger you're holding me back.
I can't let go No, I can't let go of you You're holding me back without even trying to. I can't let go I can't move on from the past
This song. It made me revisit certain memories I try to forget.
28 October 2006
It appears that we live in a realm where fantasy and reality is one, and the same.
Or maybe when we watch tv and movies, and read novels, and listen to songs, we suspend our disbelief and never really ever remember to dislodge it.
Perhaps we are waiting for perfection which doesn't quite exist.
It might be that we have imaginations that wouldn't quit.
But when we have a fixed notion of who and how He should be, it's definitely not due to a stubborn streak; or naivety; or high expectations;
it really is just a flat-out refusal to settle for anything less than what we want, even if it means that a want and a need are never reconciled, it's fine, really it is.
23 October 2006
So I'm back from the family's little sojourn in Kuala Lumpur! It wasn't exactly fruitful, although Cheryl did get her fill of cheap cds (read: pirated cds) and I lugged home a 'shabby chic' floral bucket. But that's all. Yup.
Nothing beats lounging in the hotel suite in a toasty bathrobe after a hot bath!
The Petronas Twin Towers. Yes, we do love jumping shots.
And on a sidenote, there's Zouk - granddaddy to all clubs. And no, I did not go clubbing.
18 October 2006
"You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains, oh yeahhhh."
An endless stretch of blue skies, faint swirls of white mixed in between Waves rolling below The silhouette of a grand piano and a man playing a bittersweet melody Cut to a mop of straggly brown hair, a chiselled face
Then he started singing His voice low, haunting the camera stopped behind him those shoulder blades, protrude from his brown jacket
The camera pans out You see
Wooden pianos strewn across the shoreline standing at awkward angles as far as the eye could see
A shaft of light from the heavens is illuminating him there's two white trails in the sky left in the wake of an aeroplane
The tide is coming in But he's still playing The guitarist kicks at the water water splashed off the drumset
And then the waves are crashing down he's flung off his seat and he's struggling, struggling to get back If only for that last chord, that last note
Cymbals fly through the air But he's still hammering at the piano The waves slap across his anguished face yet they are no match for the turmoil within him
Then it died down pianos are left upturned on their sides shipwrecked
A seagull perched atop the leg of an upturned white piano and shot against the azure blue sky it's a lighthouse, i'd swear it is
I admit to a bit of an obsession with the Boston by Augustana music video lately. Go watch it, you'll see why.
12 October 2006
Going to school in the train, looking at the sight outside on my first day as a 19-year-old, I thought,
"Does viewing the world through the eyes of a 19-year-old change my perspective? Have I gained any new understanding of the world and its mechanics?"
Of course, the answer is a resounding NO.
But, I know that hardly matters. A birthday may mark the day that you are truly, officially a year older but to me, what it does, year after year, is to show you how people really care.
Thank you Mummy, Daddy and Little Bao for your birthday wishes early in the morning.
Thank you to all my dear friends (esp zn for your very long and touching msg) for your words of encouragement for the year ahead.
Thank you to adi and ml for sharing most of the day with me, even if I had seemed subdued and sprouted a lot of nonsense. That whispered birthday song in munchie monkey was far louder in my ears than any rousing one would be.
And thanks so much to Stacy and Angela for springing the supper of all my favourite food on me, after being cursed by me the whole day for forgetting my birthday. I am eternally grateful for how you guys put up with and actually find my neurotic self amusing.
09 October 2006
After an almost-15-min walk, we reached Tanglin camp, one of the venues to the Biennale - which resembled a ghost town that day. I guess everyone has flocked over to Vivocity for its opening...
We pretty much had the whole place to ourselves, and we...
gawked at the exhibits,
laughed and jumped around,
and did a whole lot of posing!
08 October 2006
the haze has lifted, and with it, as did my mood. i've been toxic, inflicting my foul mood on people and i've been thinking, maybe i need to trudge through the lowest of lows, in order to hit new highs. Then i came across this line "She said she was neither happy nor unhappy, and that's why she couldn't go on." and it made me stop short. I don't ever want to be caught in that quandary and if that meant short bursts of happiness and days of feeling like shit i'd take it.
And the pictures above, they are making me happy so there you have it. and sometimes there aren't that many things that do that and if u can find one or the other u hold on tight.
coz if i squint and you could try the guy could be johnny or clinton or any other shaggy-haired wounded kid and that'll be me by his side and we'll be in Marc Jacobs and if that isn't a happy ending i don't know what could be.
05 October 2006
" Easily the best American comedy so far this year, and well-positioned to be best film overall, "Little Miss Sunshine" is a throwback to the days when comedies were raucous, touching, vulgar, delightful, hyperactive, contemplative, wholly inappropriate and touchingly wise. And that's sometimes all in one scene. "
- Brian Jeurgens freezeddriedmovies.com
A terrific film that shows how a comedy can have as much heart, wit as well as laughs. We laughed, we teared, we left the theatre feeling just a bit more hopeful about the world and ourselves.
01 October 2006
In our ideal world, that'll be us ( creative director/art director/editor of a fash or style mag) on a leisurely day out, soaking in the bohemian arty atmosphere that permeates the nooks and crannies of Singapore. Whipping out our cams at times to capture candid moments. Perhaps inspiration for the next editorial? Or just checking out places for outdoor shoots?
I lean my head slowly to the side, reflect on the camellia on the moss
of the temple, reflect on a cup of tea, while outside the wind is rustling
the foliage, the forward rush of life is crystallised in a brilliant jewel
of a moment that knows neither plans nor future, human destiny is rescued
from the pale succession of days, glows with light at last and, surpassing
time, warms my tranquil heart.