26 December 2006

Moths couldn't help it, like a moth to a, they were genetically programmed to be attracted by light, of course they saw all light as love-light. When they swam through air drunk towards it it was because they believed, genetically, that they'd found their Ubermoth, the one moth in the whole world especially for them. They would even try in a clear night sky to fly as far as the moon if the moon was full.

I had wanted with all my heart at that moment to be a moth with a moth's responsibilities, a moth's talents.

That's how Amber walks, with her arms kind of swinging out, as if she knows exactly where she's going and though it's quite far and you might not know where you're heading to, it'll be worth it, it's going to be really amazing when you get there.

I wish I could have the certainty of knowing where I'm going, and whether it'll be worth it. It doesn't even have to be amazing, just reaching some point, any point, will do.

[Extracts from Ali Smith's The Accidental]

12:23 PM;

24 December 2006

With The Free Spirit,
it's the grandeur of his gestures that count
what impact they have
how he can get her smiling.

With The Analyst,
it's not just about the sum of the parts
but the parts themselves
she picks them all apart.

The Free Spirit is of the moment.
The Analyst dwells on the past, and frets about the future.

To one, measure and comparison is unnecessary.
To the other, only hard proof and evidence provides something tangible
to save her from her insecurities.

She seeks what he cannot give.
He tries but can never please. enough.

3:47 PM;

18 December 2006

We often grow tired of what we have grown accustomed to,
and choose to stray as far away from it as we possibly could
when there's a chance.

We defy conventions, and stereotypes
really just to prove that we could.

Expectations are always hard to fulfil,
or maybe we fail them right at the start
so the weight can be gone.

Can different worlds collide,
can we do as we like
and face the consequences?

Can I ever, at the last chapter of life,
close it with the word

1:57 AM;

12 December 2006

I'm looking to be distracted but nothing is working.

I woke up this morning, trying to figure out the time lag between here and there.

I think it's 13 hours.

The tea couldn't be drunk without sugar this morning. So a heap of the crystals was dumped in.
And you know I haven't done that since the time you gave me that face when I stirred 3 sachets into my Lipton tea.

I miss you kid. But then, you know that already.

"It's sixteen miles...to the promised land. And I promise you I'm doing the best I can."

12:22 PM;

07 December 2006

Hey Ho Let's Go!

They're piling in the backseat

They're generating steam heat

They're forming in a straight line

What they want I don't know
They're all reved up and ready to go!

12:32 PM;

06 December 2006

credit: JUICE (dec issue)

4:29 PM;

03 December 2006

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf was my favourite A-level english lit text and it continues to be one of my favourite plays.

It holds special poignancy for me in that I feel a special affinity to Martha and it catches hold of me in a way certain things in life can.
Anyway, the best part of the play at least to me is,

Martha: ...George who is out somewhere there in the dark...George who is good to me, and whom I revile; who understands me, and whom I push off; who can make me laugh, and I choke it back in my throat; who can hold me, at night, so that it's warm, and whom I will bite, so there's blood, who keeps learning the games we play as quickly as I can change the rules; who can make me happy and I do not wish to be happy, and yes I do wish to be happy. George and Martha: sad, sad, sad.

...whom I will not forgive for having come to rest; for having seen me and having said: yes; this will do; who has made the hideous, the hurting, the insulting mistake of loving me and must be punished for it. George and Martha: sad, sad, sad.

...who tolerates, which is intolerable; who is kind, which is cruel; who understands, which is beyond comprehension...

Some day...hah! some night...some stupid, liquor-ridden night...I will go too far...and I'll either break the man's back...or push him off for good...which is what I deserve.

To me it is such endless recriminations, paradoxes that eat away at the self and the relationship that make it all the more meaningful.
It's more than sweet nothings, and eventually a watered-down version of a relationship years into it. It's where the passion doesn't fade, where the melange of your ugliest emotions and thoughts gets thrown out into the open, in guise or otherwise. Beyond petty concerns.
Where you question your thoughts, your feelings almost as soon as you think and feel them.
It's not easy or pretty, but I'd rather have that.

The play was recently staged on the West End and before that, Broadway. What are the chances they'll bring it to Singapore?

1:16 PM;

02 December 2006

Man, exhaustion is setting in...Exams in themselves are not the killer, it's the preparations.
All the info seems to literally fill me up, and most of the time I feel so full I feel nauseous.
But, yea it was the last paper yesterday...
On a sidenote, I made the discovery that Modest Mouse makes great study company.

And a Rilo Kiley picture just because it makes me happy! Azure sky, palm trees and Jenny Lewis!

Pop the champagne guys, we got thru our first semester of uni!

12:55 AM;

about me

email me



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.

- The Elegance of the Hedgehog,
Muriel Barbery


Tan Leather Chair

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Some Required

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A Bloomsbury Life

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Said the Gramophone





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Inside A Black Apple

My Folk Lover

Pink Bedroom


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