Across the Universe

I'm listening to: Camera Obscura - Let's Get Out of This Country

2011-08-31T03:24:00.000+08:00

I'm just a shell, because I misplaced my insides. I don't know where I left them, or if I'm supposed/going to ever find them. Nobody knows this, and I'm alone.

I feel so dead, empty, and uninspired. What would it mean, getting used to being this incomplete?

I could be a real person, I think.

I'm listening to: Black Sabbath - Changes

2011-08-14T01:48:00.000+08:00

I have trouble getting out of bed in the morning. It's not because I'm still sleepy.

I'm listening to: Modest Mouse - Ocean Breathes Salty

2011-08-04T03:36:00.027+08:00

Well that is that and this is this

You tell me what you want and I'll tell you what you get:
You get away from me, you get away from me.
Collected my belongings and I left the jail
Well thanks for the time, I needed to think a spell
I had to think awhile, I had to think awhile.

The ocean breathes salty, won't you carry it in?
In your head, in your mouth, in your soul.
And maybe we'll get lucky and we'll both grow old
Well, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know; I hope so.

Well, that is that and this is this
Will you tell me what you saw, and I'll tell you what you missed,
When the ocean met the sky.
You missed when time and life shook hands and said goodbye;
When the earth folded in on itself, and said,

"Good luck, for your sake I hope heaven and hell
Are really there, but I wouldn't hold my breath."
You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death?
You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death?

The ocean breathes salty, won't you carry it in?
In your head, in your mouth, in your soul.
The more we move ahead, the more we're stuck in rewind
Well, I don't mind, I don't mind; how the hell could I mind?

When states of mind behave as measures of time.

I'm listening to: Train - Drops of Jupiter

2011-07-29T04:40:00.000+08:00

The last time I went back there was about a year ago, but today's visit was exceptionally different, for certain obvious reasons and other less apparent ones. It was so ridiculously surreal; I felt a mixture of dread, shock, and a strange urge to laugh in reaction to all that absurdity - it was hopelessly infectious and practically seeping into my skin; I'm not even exaggerating, that's exactly how uncomfortable it felt. Is it possible to revisit the past and relive old memories? Persons, things, and places rarely if ever stay constant, so what you think you remember can never quite match current reality.

I don't think it's as trivial as it sounds, because human emotion (I think) inevitably draws for us associations between past and present states of the same entity. The combined effect is jarring and so painfully disconcerting. How can something feel so familiar and yet so alien at the same time? How do we reconcile memories (the familiar) with current reality (the unfamiliar); and how do each/both of these relate to the past? I'm completely baffled, though I know it doesn't help that I'm not expressing myself as clearly as I'd like, and I also feel slightly embarrassed because I'm also wondering who would give him/herself such a hard time over something like this.

It was a striking feeling - the result of something my mind and my heart couldn't work out between themselves - how much of our personal experience is based on our environment vs. our thoughts, or, in what proportions do internal and external influences affect the human experience? And why haven't I been troubled by these questions earlier? Are the answers too glaringly obvious or does all this really mean something? This is also why I was so shaken hearing that cover of this song; an odd combination of joy, sadness, regret, nostalgia, thankfulness, fear, deja vu, and a whole bunch of other things.

How much has changed, and how much more will change?

Tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back to the milky way?
And tell me, did Venus blow your mind?
Was it everything you wanted to find
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

I'm listening to: Sleeping Beauty - Once Upon A Dream

2011-07-23T03:20:00.001+08:00

I know you,
I walked with you once upon a dream.
I know you,
The gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.
Yes, I know it's true
That visions are seldom all they seem.
But if I know you, I know what you'll do -
You'll love me at once,
The way you did once upon a dream.

I'm listening to: Tears for Fears - Head Over Heels

2011-07-22T03:35:00.000+08:00

I wanted to be with you alone and talk about the weather,
But traditions I can trace against the child in your face won't escape my attention.

It's hard to be a man when there's a gun in your hand.

I'm listening to: U2 - Stuck in a Moment

2011-07-21T02:57:00.000+08:00

And you can never get enough
Of what you don't really need now
My, oh my

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it
Oh love, look at you now
You've got yourself stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it
Oh lord, look at you now
You've got yourself stuck in a moment and you cant get out of it

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if your way should falter, along this stony pass

It's just a moment
This time will pass

Yeah; well, why's that easier to say than to believe? I've thought about saying goodbye because I get so tired, and it's alarming. It always is, though I'd like to think I have more substance than that and I've long outgrown this childishness, but exhaustion lapses into hopelessness, which gives way to a desperate re-examination of previously discarded options, and finally, a sombre recognition of this excruciatingly tortuous stasis - born of a ridiculous (self-imposed?) incapacity to induce decisive change. Fuck it. So I'll just continue to stand and wait, while praying that whatever it is I'm anticipating is in fact heading my way. Yes, it's all in my head.

Bless us
You're swimming, and I'm running
You're driving, and I'm cycling
Even when you're flying, and I'm sailing
We're always moving together in parallel
Though we don't always see it

And... I'm back on Blogger. I feel retarded trying (in vain) to blog properly on Tumblr - there's too much cool stuff there I can hardly think on my own. Ha.

I'm listening to: Human League - Together in Electric Dreams

2010-12-28T01:33:00.021+08:00

We part at the Tom Hansen complex; the endless and exhausting rehearsal of Expectation vs. Reality.

I bid a very fond farewell to Blogger; I'll be moving to Tumblr (eventually - though I won't be posting here anymore) just because connectivity is so much easier there. In a sense, Across the Universe will survive since there is some kind of psychological continuity (haha), but it won't be the same, and just as well; because it ends along with the chapter it documents.

Hands down, this is the best day I can ever remember.

I'll always remember the sound of the stereo,
The dim of the soft lights,
The scent of your hair that you twirled in your fingers,
And the time on the clock when we realized it's so late,
And this walk that we shared together.

The streets were wet and the gate was locked,

So I jumped it, and let you in.
And you stood at your door with your hands on my waist

And you kissed me like you meant it,
And I knew that you meant it.

I'm listening to: Keane - We Might As Well Be Strangers

2010-11-08T02:17:00.000+08:00

Hello Mister,
You set my eyes on fire.

I'm listening to: Plain White T's - Anything (Acoustic)

2010-11-07T01:37:00.000+08:00

Swirling shades of glue - grey, blue
The Rottweiler vanishes along the corner
Bringing, leaving,
A meandering stench of iron that stretches
Its long trail across millenia of groveling and writhing in
The Dirt dyed colors of strange languages -
Those lost to la mer, that take its hand to spin and dance in frozen breezes.
Petty charms in a dollar-store snowglobe, which
Sparkle is caught and mirrored only in the light of an
Unopened eye.

I think I'm addicted to Salad Fingers.

"Do you not like my mouth-words?"

Help.

I'm listening to: A Rocket From the Moon - Forever and Always

2010-11-02T23:46:00.001+08:00

I feel bad. I don't think it constitutes a failure to recognize one's own imperfections but, on the contrary, represents a veiled assertion of some compounded form thereof. Honestly. I thought about it and that's the furthest I got, but hell, it doesn't make it any less nauseating.

What it is to be up against the wall.

The observer has a tough job. Both desire and its antithetic manifestation, born of the same pernicious spawn; - how do they not fight each other to death and kill their bearer in the process?

Hello, I haven't seen you in awhile. I'm sorry I ever decided to throw you away! You looked much better in real life too. I miss you!

I'm listening to: Lucie Silvas - Breathe In

2010-10-21T00:20:00.002+08:00

"Please get out. I'm sorry, I'm sick of your face, even more than the stupid things we do and talk about all the time."

Say hi to Frank Bunny. The Manipulated Dead are space-time-travelers we want never to meet. They don't even make logical sense; the possibility of their existence is scary enough on its own account. Frank Bunny (not Frank) symbolizes the engendering of a fusion between fragmented universes and the anomalous, almost paradoxical nature of such an event, yet his Purpose for being is never veritably unmasked. He's also real even if he isn't. We don't know exactly what he is, but he is creepy - for more reasons than we'd care to uncover.

Don't analyse, don't analyse
Don't go that way
Don't lead that way
That would paralyse your evolution.

I'm listening to: The Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition

2010-10-19T02:29:00.032+08:00

Is it the archetype?

Or the distinct manifestation?

It huddles in the littlest corners and thinks nobody knows, just because it doesn't look anyone else in the eye. But it turns up all over the place anyway, taking on the strangest forms. How do you stop staring?

So stay there
Because I'll be coming over

And while our blood's still young
It's so young; it runs

And we won't stop until it's over
Won't stop to surrender

I'm listening to: The Format - The First Single (You Know Me)

2010-10-12T21:42:00.001+08:00

What's the point in going 'round when it's a straight line, baby, a straight, straight line?

IT'S BEEN SIX YEARS SINCE I LAST HEARD THIS AND I'M IN LOVE ALL OVER AGAIN!

It's the kind of genius indie music births once in awhile (quite a long while ago to be exact); the infectious beat and melody against old-school emo lyrics are a killer combination, and the form/structure of the song is perfect (like having a double-scoop ice cream cone with toppings, not a measly naked single scoop or a nausea-inducing swimming pool of a giant mutant sundae). The energy sends your head spinning before it winds down to a lovely end - and your head's still spinning and you can't stop listening to it over and over again for the same sugar rush. This is really good stuff worth the rediscovery, no thanks to those apocalyptic software crashes.

I'm listening to: The Rescues - My Heart With You

2010-10-09T04:21:00.000+08:00

Deathcab's 'I Will Follow You Into the Dark' has been so overplayed it's hard sometimes to remember ever liking it much, but I happened to chance upon it again today and the song took on an unexpected new meaning.

But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark

These bits especially. Oddly enough, it brought to mind a dream/nightmare from a few days back. It was about zombies and literally playing to survive. There, I've said it. It's really kinda stupid and I'm not going into specifics, but associating the dream with the song made something strikingly clear and suddenly everything fell into place. The associations are scarily apparent - in a big way. It's a semi-repressed thought half-deliberately (it seems) come to light, and although I still don't know exactly what I want, I sure as hell know what I don't want. That said, it's not uncomplicated, either. But this acute clarity, albeit on a very, very small scale, is enough to put my mind at ease, even when it doesn't do squat for suggesting any further/future course of action. It's nice to know what you didn't know you knew, never mind how troublesome that could become. Almost.

Waited a hundred years to see your face,
And I would wait a hundred more
If only to be near you,
To have you and to hear you.

Isn't that what time is for?

Should our fire turn to dark,
Take my heart with you.

I'm listening to: Simon and Garfunkel - Bookends

2010-10-07T01:53:00.007+08:00

"What always happens - life." - Summer Finn, (500) Days of Summer

It's hard to properly relish the present without feeling some bittersweet tinge to it, knowing times both good and bad will eventually pass us by. The traces they leave behind aren't always pleasant either, but all the same we cling to these for dear life, and we hate with a vengeance what we can't let go of. What lies ahead is never as bloody scary (think Frank Bunny) as the prospect, because we have no choice but to constantly approach the future at some mysterious speed beyond our comprehension, much less control. That said, we haven't got a choice, and that's all we need to keep going. The past needs to be buried before it turns putrid. I can't do anything about what happened, but I can help you do that - if you'll let me.

Standing on the edge of morning,

Scent of sex and New Found Glory

Playing as she's pulling back her hair.

(Evening twilight on Hipstamatic: John Smith lens and Pistil film)

I'm listening to: Regina Spektor - Us

2010-10-06T01:43:00.000+08:00

Rummaging for answers in the pages

We're living in a den of thieves

And it's contagious

And it's contag - uh - uh - us.

God, it's so fucking depressing.

I'm listening to: Black Lips - Bad Kids

2010-10-01T03:23:00.000+08:00

It might be interesting to note that Ralph Wiggum wrote and submitted a paper on the Block Universe Conception of Time for a metaphysics class, just yesterday.

I'm listening to: Carla Bruni - Quelqu'un M'a Dit

2010-10-01T03:15:00.000+08:00

I love these toy camera photos.

On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose
Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses
On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud
Que de nos chagrins il s'en fait des manteaux
Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit

Que tu m'aimais encore

C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore
Serais ce possible alors?

On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous
Qu'il ne nous donne rien et qu'il nous promet tout
Parais qu'le bonheur est à portée de main,
Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou
Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit

Que tu m'aimais encore

C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore
Serais ce possible alors?

Mais qui est ce qui m'a dit que toujours tu m'aimais?
Je ne me souviens plus c'était tard dans la nuit,
J'entend encore la voix, mais je ne vois plus les traits
"Il vous aime, c'est secret, lui dites pas que j'vous l'ai dit"
Tu vois quelqu'un m'a dit

Que tu m'aimais encore, me l'a t'on vraiment dit
Que tu m'aimais encore, serais ce possible alors?

I'm listening to: Meaghan Smith - Here Comes Your Man

2010-09-26T00:51:00.012+08:00

"I thought I'd be okay on my own."

Outside there's a box car waiting
Outside the family store
Out by the fire breathing
Outside we wait 'til face turns blue

I know the nervous walking
I know the dirty beard hangs
Out by the box car waiting
Take me away to nowhere plains

There is a wait so long (so long, so long)
You'll never wait so long

Here comes your man
Here comes your man
Here comes your man

Here comes your man

I'm listening to: Nancy Sinatra - Sugartown

2010-09-25T02:07:00.000+08:00

You don't wanna hurt me, but see how deep the bullet lies

Unaware that I'm tearing you asunder, there is thunder in our hearts

It's a silly time to learn to swim on the way down
If I gave you my number
Would it still be the same, if I saved you from drowning?

Deadbeat sweetheartbeat

You know you can have it if you want to
I'll find you unrelated, cultivated
When you wake up incubated in me
You're free to leave, if you knew it all along

I'll make my way across the frozen sea, beyond the blank horizon
Where I can forget you and me and get a decent night's sleep
Well here I am; don't know how to say this

Only thing I know is awkward silence
Your eyelids close when you're around me, to shut me out

Oh, when your heart's on fire,

You must realize
Smoke gets in your eyes

I wake, alone,

In a woman's room I hardly know

I wake, alone,

Pretend that I am finally home

I need you so much closer

Oh dear, can't you see?

It's them it's not me

We're not enemies;

We just disagree

We all disagree, I think we should disagree, yeah

Oh, so I smile and say
When a lovely flame dies,
Smoke gets in your eyes

I saw the western coast

I saw the hospital nurse the shoreline like a wound

Reports of lovers' tryst were neither clear nor descript

We kept it safe and slow

The quiet things that no one ever knows

Just 'cause you feel it, doesn't mean it's there.

And if a double-decker bus crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine

I'm the hero of this story
Don't need to be saved

Like a Saturday night I'll be gone before you knew that I was there

'Cause I'm in

Shoo-shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo

Shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo

Sugartown

I'm listening to: Liz Phair - Why Can't I

2010-09-22T02:57:00.000+08:00

Isn't this the best part of breaking up?

Finding someone else you can't get enough of

"I can't believe I'm finally about to tell you this: I love you, in every sense of the word. I thought it was just a passing feeling, but it was never gone for long and I figured I wasn't kidding anyone, much less myself. I know you're not surprised, and I'm not sure if I'm sorry that you aren't."

"Why did you finally decide to tell me? (Oh goddammit it.)"

"I don't know. It's killing me. I probably just ruined everything."

"Look, ... ..."

"Well, I like you because I see who you really are, deep down inside, and I like that part of you even for the imperfections you hide from other people. I wonder if anyone else could honestly tell you that, and you deserve someone who can, because I think you're wonderful."

"I could say the same for you, but it doesn't have to mean that... ..."

"Why ruin something that's already great as it is? I know it makes no sense, and I've thought about it a million times. But emotions don't work that way. You ought to understand better than I."

"I do, but you know how... ..."

"What is it that you've been waiting for? Instead of just telling me what you think, will you tell me how you really feel?"

"I couldn't... (I can't? Maybe I don't feel anything. For all you know, I'm secretly a robot. You'd never know.) ..."

"I shouldn't never have said anything. It's clearly pointless. (Damn you, why the hell are you making things so complicated? Thanks for reminding me I get sick of you almost as often as I think I like you.)"

" I can't imagine how many other people out there you'd be happier with. I'm just not the one for you. This conversation won't change anything between us, I promise... (See? It makes sense that if I were a robot, it'll be all too easy. No sweat.) ... I'm glad we talked it through, though."

"So am I, thanks for being so understanding. (I wonder if you really know just how sick I am of being bored. Is that why you won't even humor me? But I don't know if I'll eventually thank you for that or not. It might be tortuously horrible going out with you, and not that it'd be completely unanticipated. Fuck everything, I want to die. Screw you.)"

"(Ah. Motherfucker. Am I glad that's over.)"

I'm listening to: Alphaville - Forever Young

2010-09-21T02:11:00.187+08:00

Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while
Heaven can wait we're only watching the skies
Hoping for the best but expecting the worst
Are you going to drop the bomb or not?

I watched Napoleon Dynamite again this afternoon (they have it on HBO Demand, can you believe it??) and never having been to a school dance, I only hope I will one day get the opportunity to dance to this song with someone cool. If I left with no choice, it'll just be on my wedding playlist or something.

Pffffffftt.

I'd meant to blog about this awhile back but kept putting it off. I don't think it's unreasonable to assume that there are some pivotal events that define what's to follow; perhaps for the rest of your life. On these moments center a distillation of existential lucidity - from the height of one's emotional range, perception of individual value as well as perspectives of the world at large, and God only knows what else. Unfortunately, we often feel the full effects of its significance only in retrospect, not unlike the manner in which one regards a particularly moving dream upon awakening.

When we live in anticipation of these milestones on which much of personal time converge, there's a hell lot at stake. In paving the way for their arrival, because we can hardly count on being presently aware of their occupation of time, it is inevitable that we might inadvertently ruin the 'natural course' of events by pre-empting and additionally diverting their occurrence.

It sounds like an awfully silly thing to be bothered by, but not for (I just learnt this term) an eternalist. It's a position I can't help falling back on, despite its impracticalities. I'm embarrassed saying that. When all you're getting is older, the last thing you want is to look back on the past with acute regret. It's so hard to shake off the instinctive tendency to disengage (to some degree) with the present in view of some transcendental higher order of things which is, ironically, only available on an impossibly macrocosmic scale.

Those who claim that ignorance is bliss seem to be occupied only in the moment. Then again, who's to say that realization, purely by virtue of chronological supersedence, always offers greater truth value when the context isn't everchanging? Still, like that's a comfort.

Youth is like diamonds in the sun
And diamonds are forever

So many adventures couldn't happen today
So many songs we forgot to play
So many dreams are swinging out of the blue

We let them come true

I'm listening to: Joshua Radin - I'd Rather Be With You

2010-09-09T03:58:00.000+08:00

I could have saved so much time for us
Had I seen the way to get to where I am today
You waited on me for so long
So now, listen to me say:

I need to be bold, need to jump in the cold water
Need to grow older with a girl like you
Finally see you are naturally the one to make it so easy
When you show me the truth
Yeah, I'd rather be with you
Say you want the same thing too

Say you feel the way I do

I'm listening to: Patty Griffin - The Long Ride Home

2010-09-01T23:30:00.001+08:00

Old but always new. I don't think you truly know the object of your contemplation; not that I do, but you don't see how it takes on different faces.

Is this a paradox? When defined by the Other, it seems neither leaves any room for its antithetic. When you capture a moment and stow it away, 'new' and 'old' are compounded as a palimpsest within its metaphysical element. You will recall how stepping into a foreign environment felt, and later contrast it with an acquired familiarity and heavily blunted sensitivity. The first experience, as if petrified in some psychic dimension, will always intrinsically retain its newness, even as it ages along another chronological dimension. In other words, equivocating these concepts (just a little) to allow them to operate under different contexts (i.e. means to various entailing consequences) can negate the apparent paradox.

The distinctions we so painstakingly draw and fight tooth and nail to maintain don't mean as much as we'd like, or at least in the way we'd expect. How this can be observed needs no elaboration whatsoever, but the constant violation and upheaval of psychological territorial lines is both painful and unnecessary. My opinion therefore favors a healthy degree of disengagement - in every sense of the word - in the face of this ambiguity.

Ain't nothing left at all in the end of being proud
With me riding in this car, and you flying through the clouds

I've had some time to think about you
And watch the sun sink like a stone

I'm listening to: The Smiths - Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

2010-09-01T03:16:00.000+08:00

Babe, tomorrow's so far away
There's something I just have to say
I don't think I can hide what I'm feelin' inside
Another day, knowin' I love you
And I, I'm getting too close again
I don't want to see it end
If I tell you tonight will you turn out the light
And walk away, knowin' I love you?

I'm gonna take you by surprise
And make you realize, Amanda
I'm gonna tell you right away,
I can't wait another day, Amanda
I'm gonna say it like a man
And make you understand, Amanda
I love you

Amanda might just melt like a grilled cheese sandwich.

If they don't share a mutual understanding and acceptance (perhaps this is getting ahead of the fragile state of affairs captured and made infinite in the song) of the way they both feel about each other, Amanda will probably bolt.

This is tautologically true as far as I know, and it's yet another reminder of how utterly meaningless statements can be, even so. It's so awful playing on a hinge when rationalizing won't do squat - technically, his chances are always even despite everything he thinks he knows, as long as she hasn't declared her position. He doesn't seem to be doing that though, or he'd be screwed quite unnecessarily, but then he might be screwed either way.

Or, assuming Amanda is reasonably representative of the entire female species although here she's just a portrait, maybe he'd find other guys less of a pain to figure out.

I'm listening to: Taking Back Sunday - Make Damn Sure

2010-08-28T03:23:00.000+08:00

Tonight I said goodbye, but I should have said more.

Come home,

I won't forget the times that we had
So please don't be a part of my past.

And we lay, we lay together just not
Too close, too close
How close is close enough?
We lay, we lay together just not
Too close, too close

I'M GONNA MAKE DAMN SURE
I JUST WANNA BREAK YOU DOWN SO BADLY
I JUST WANNA BREAK YOU DOWN SO BADLY
MAKE DAMN SURE
IN THE WORST WAY

I'm glad I came here with your pound of flesh.

I'm listening to: Anberlin - Autobahn

2010-08-24T23:20:00.005+08:00

A visitor at midday (before I forget anymore).

You weren't supposed to be here, and I had nothing to say to you. Whether it was how different you looked or that I recognized you nonetheless, I can't say which came as a greater shock. Your complexion, once alabaster, had become heavily freckled by some harsh climate, and your hair hung in matted locks. You don't belong here. You were once beautiful, but you'd been used up almost completely. The edges of your eyes were worn threadbare by the glaring sun, yet their color and depth mirrored that of the cloudless sky. That empty shell of a boy was filled with something else I couldn't define.

The residual force; that little bit of fight left in you, was compelling nonetheless. The urgency in your expression was so disturbingly intense and it shook me, yet I knew I shouldn't; couldn't, say anything despite the profound regret and inexplicable empathy I felt gnawing on my conscience. It's funny how you never said anything either. But two psyches overlapped, overturned, overwrote, like layer after layer of Russian dolls stacked into each other, and for a moment we understood each other perfectly: this meeting was contingent upon too many things that couldn't truly exist.

This understanding, on each other's behalf, bade us our farewells. And it all happened in a blink of the mind's eye, then everything was over before anything had begun, and there my memory fails me. I do know we parted in more ways than one, and not least because your parting gift was a question I can't stop asking myself - who are you?

I had a conversation with you at night
It's a little one sided but that's all right
I tell you in the kitchen about my day
You sit on the bed in the dark changing places
With the ghost that was there before you came
You've come to save my life again

I'm listening to: Midtown - Knew It All Along (Acoustic)

2010-08-19T01:46:00.000+08:00

The scars inside have made you beautiful

Stop breathing for me.

Hello.

Hands down, this is the best day I can ever remember.

The streets were wet and the gate was locked,

So I jumped it, and let you in.

And you stood at your door with your hands on my waist

And you kissed me like you meant it.

And I knew that you meant it,

That you meant it,
That you meant it,
And I knew,
That you meant it,
That you meant it.

I'm listening to: Buddy Holly - Maybe Baby

2010-08-18T02:19:00.004+08:00

26TH AUGUST. IT'S YVONNE STRAHOVSKI (WHERE'S CHUCK??) AND IT'S SO FUNNY OMG I CAN'T WAIT!

I'm listening to: The New Pornographers - The Fake Headlines

2010-08-13T01:18:00.002+08:00

'Cause I'm bored of hanging out, in your cold.

I wish there was an ultimate objective reality I could die to wake up to. I've said this about Descartes' dream argument, that the reason it's so difficult to tell you're dreaming when you're dreaming, is because the passage from wakefulness to sleep lacks a concrete demarcation as opposed to the jarring shock of awakening from a dream. I'm not trying to play blind skeptic here, but there is a rather pertinent point - that it's pretty damn near impossible to be sure what something is when you can only reasonably figure out (usually in retrospect) what it isn't/wasn't. Then they never make it home alive.

I'm listening to: Nerina Pallot - Halfway Home

2010-08-11T01:37:00.001+08:00

I've got a quarter in my pocket of an apple left to eat:
It's a wonder that I'm standing on my own two feet.
In the shadow of a thousand veiled Victorian goodbyes
Jewels of litter come to greet me, and it stings my eyes.

I'm dying for episode 8 and the rest of the season to be out. It's not just the plot but the political and philosophical (especially existential) themes running through the seasons.

The last of True Blood from episode 7 finally enunciated quite patently a key issue at the heart of the season, if not the entire series. Russell Edgington, the 3000 year-old vampire king of Mississippi, declared that the only law to abide by is that of Nature's; of the survival of the fittest, and not some artificial social construct laid down by traditional authority (i.e. the Magister and his precedents). The reason for his belief is that conventional legal structures (governing vampiric conduct) were conceived to appease humans' fears, but these hold back the development of vampires as the master race, which is particularly irksome because he cannot understand how human beings are stupid enough to destroy their own living habitat and yet claim a natural right to the world.

He's obviously over his head in arrogance, but it's hard to dismiss his opinions just like that. First off, it isn't very clear which race - human or vampiric - Nature favours in the first place, since vampires are after all human beings risen from the dead, though the other part of their origin is anything but human. But the fact that all vampires had to be human once, and that they also waited till lately to 'come out of the closet', favours human beings as having the natural right. Then again, vampires are physically, physiologically and psychologically superior to human beings, which counters that claim on a different level but also makes it hard to draw a reasonable comparison when both operate by different criteria (defining Nature). On the other hand, it's interesting to note how human standards are always the basis for comparison.

And then, there are also Weres, Shapeshifters, Fairies (to come), Maenads, and goodness knows what else. Each and every one of these have a human 'component' to their being, in the sense that they take on human forms at least some of the time. This does not indicate that human beings are therefore the master race; it could be a functionary and practical (plainly obvious how) evolutionary (?) adaptation, but it raises the question of why human beings have been left to believe, since the dawn of time till recently, that they are the only evolutionarily sophisticated species inhabiting the earth. That, however, for a contemporary science-fiction writer like Charlaine Harris, is only at her discretion. I guess we can just wait and see (since human beings' fear = being subjected to human standards = doesn't seem plausible as a real reason), and until more light has been thrown on the subject, the preceding questions and issues cannot be satisfactorily addressed, which is why

I. need. more. True. Blood. And just the shows. I don't really want the books, sorry.

And now, I'm halfway home,

I'm at the corner of our street,
Would you like to come and meet me?

I'm listening to: Kate Bush - Running Up That Hill

2010-08-09T04:21:00.018+08:00

You don't want to hurt me
But see how deep the bullet lies
Unaware I'm tearing you asunder
Oh, there is thunder in our hearts

Is there so much hate for the ones we love?
Tell me we both matter; don't we?
You, it's you and me
It's you and me, you won't be unhappy

And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get him to swap our places
Be running up that road
Be running up that hill
Be running up that building

You're crazy adorable, but only God knows how much I hate you sometimes.

I'm listening to: Blondie - Heart of Glass

2010-08-05T03:40:00.000+08:00

Lost inside
Adorable illusion and I cannot hide
I'm the one you're using, please don't push me aside
We could've made it cruising, yeah.

Funny how the human psyche works. You can build defenses all around to protect some treasured object from every conceivable external threat, but its eventual destruction/losing its value is sometimes internally effected. Does that in any way really negate your loss (e.g. a change of heart => zero heartbreak)? In the greater scheme of things, it might not matter much, but it's troubling just the same.

It's not like I'm not enjoying myself at all, but I'm so exhausted; I can hardly believe that I'm actually dying (more than as a figure of speech) for school to start. Bleargh. And here we go again.

I feel so awfully human.

I'm listening to: Dido - Stoned

2010-07-30T03:04:00.000+08:00

It's hard sometimes not to look away
And think what's the point
When I'm having to hold this fire down
I think I'll explode if I can't feel this freely now

Chaque fois que tu t'en vas
Je prétends que tout va bien

Where are you and I'm so sorry
I cannot sleep I cannot dream tonight
I need somebody and always
This sick strange darkness
Comes creeping on so haunting every time

When I keep wondering who's holding Donna now
And I keep wondering whose heart she's knocking around
There's nothing I wouldn't do
To be in his shoes somehow

My heart is drenched in wine
You'll be on my mind, forever

Oh, but at often times those words get tangled up in the lines
And the bright light turns to night
Oh, until the dawn it brings
Another day to sing about the magic that was you and me

Well, it’s just so little,

And I can see through you and know it will end
This distance, this secret is seeping out my skin

I'm listening to: Paolo Nutini - Candy

2010-07-26T03:42:00.000+08:00

HELLO, MEET MY NEW CRUSH.

Paolo, welcome to my blog! You are most welcome to stay here forever =)

OF COURSE I CHOSE THE CUTEST PHOTOS I COULD FIND BUT WHAT'S NOT TO LIKE?! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HE'S 23, TALENTED, SOULFUL AND CUTE (ITALIAN-SCOT!). I CAN MELT AND EVAPORATE NOW. THANKS FOR THE INTRODUCTION RAND ={D

After all the raving, I have to admit, I think liking his music's an acquired taste. 'Candy' reminds me a little of James Morrison's 'Broken Strings', and in my opinion he's a rawer version of Jason Mraz, Morrison, etc.; that is, sans the mainstream-pop gloss. I didn't like it on the first listen but after a few more, I couldn't stop replaying the video and still after, I was so blown away.

The vibe his sound exudes reminds me of the Raveonettes'. If it had a physical presence it'd be like swirling dust in an old attic transformed by the late afternoon sunlight into what looks like sparkly fairydust. It's both old and new but always nostalgically magical.

And doesn't he look a teeny bit familiar? ;-)

I'm listening to: Foals - Alabaster

2010-07-24T04:09:00.000+08:00

She's up in the sky, and the sky is on fire.

I love this song.

It's been a half-week from hell but I'm awfully glad it all worked out. =) I think learning the excruciatingly painful way - that it's too easy to overlook things that really matter and instead get distracted and so caught up in side issues to neglect the former - has been somewhat worthwhile, because I'm hoping the reminder will stick for awhile.

If tomorrow never comes (a friend's Facebook status; and what does it mean, really?), it would necessarily mean an interruption in the 24-hour time cycle, which could be astronomical/physical (the sun doesn't rise, etc. ) or metaphysical (a time-space glitch where time stops or loops). Since either of these possibilities are inconceivable based on the laws of this universe as we know it, our present reality will collapse and our present selves must also cease to exist. So, if tomorrow never comes, We will all perish along with the destruction of the world. On the other hand, if you consider a subjective perception/experience of the universe: if and when we die, tomorrow won't come either. I suppose the apocalyptic interpretation is quite evident to most people, though probably not in the same sense, and I'm not sure it's logically significant in song lyrics and the like.

Sighhhhh, Amanda.

Alabaster lover, you won't get more.
We made each other, you won't get more.

I'm listening to: Sherwood - Middle of the Night

2010-07-20T00:49:00.000+08:00

And if I don't make it known that I've loved you all along
Just like sunny days that we ignore because
We're all dumb and jaded
And I hope to God I figure out what's wrong.

Disclaimer: 89 12-8 a 7-34-78-45-90-56-89-4, 89-7-23-34-4-78-45-34, 12-7-34 extremely 0-90-23-23-34-23-23-89-5-34 6-89-56-4-67. I'm 23-45-89-56-89-7-56 56-67-89-23 12-56 (5-34-45-67 low) 45-89-23-89 of 67-90-78 bothering 56-90 34-34-4-90-34-34 89-56.

89-56 89-89-90-90-23 8-34 56-90 see 67-90-78 12-45-90-78-7-34 any 90-45 56-67-34-8, 34-23-0-34-4-89-12-90-90-67 leaving 23-89-56-67 67-34-45, 23-67-89-4-67 8-89-56-67-56 well 6-34 89-67 90-23-7 34-90-89-7-56 12-7-34 just 8-12-89-34-23 89-34 23-12-7-56 56-90 34-89-34 now. 89 don't 4-12-45-34 89 78-78-23-56 don't 23-12-7-56 56-90 23-67-12-45-34 you.

GODDAMMIT FUCK EVERYTHING

I'm listening to: Metallica - Unnamed Feeling

2010-07-19T03:09:00.000+08:00

MOTHER. BLOODY. FUCKER. MOTHER. FUCKER. ASS WHORE. BLOODY. FUCKTARD. MOTHER. BLOODY. FUCKING. GODDAMN. HELL.

I'm listening to: Savage Garden - Santa Monica

2010-07-18T03:47:00.000+08:00

The sound is so chill but the lyrics carry such dark meaning. They're juxtaposed just so, and suspended in timelessness for the perfect contrast to send me on the brink of existential satiety, and I think Sartre would be proud. Man, it makes me want to visit the West Coast. There's something about it that just escapes me, that I can't quite put my finger on it. I also want to see Malibu, thanks to Hole's gorgeous song of the same name, as well as the associated thoughts and memories that come along with it, which I never want to lose.

The pertinent question is: what are you leaving behind to go in search for?

Even after all that, I'm not sure we aren't still going in circles.

I'm listening to: The Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Maps

2010-07-16T03:40:00.007+08:00

My dream last night (the awful couples was just a tiny episode of the entire set!) is probably the most horrible I've had in years. It was so bad I was jolted awake, and after the initial confusion I was so thankful it wasn't real. The monsters in it were those in my head coming out to play. They're not epically repulsive in the fashion of the pop media's grandiose creations, but if they could be physically defined they might look something like the 'hand-man' from Pan's Labyrinth.

This looks like the physical representation of "familiarity breeds contempt" - what was once a human being gone terribly wrong in a revelationary moment of existential angst and indignation following years of blind societal habituation.

Was - Is
I can't say I've never met You. But so fleetingly, I sometimes wonder if it ever really happened; and what did happen, I couldn't say even if I could somehow recreate it in all its originally immaculate clarity and detail lost to time from constant recollection. You-ness migrates, and as an entity that consistently exists, resides in someone else now, I hope. I'm glad to have had my brief encounter with You, though the time-based subject has long expired in terms of embodiment, because I guess it wasn't meant to be, so it doesn't really matter. It's just a pity to come to this knowledge only in retrospect, since things might've turned out differently. But I know I will never forget.

Is - Will Be
You teach me to be patient, and so I am in no hurry. The past has taught me to believe in You, and that's sufficient. I have no idea what to expect, but I will definitely know it when we meet again, like the previous time when we were both so lucidly aware. I only hope that this time round, if ever, it won't be too late and that we're playing for keeps, though I'm so afraid of the form and times You may take on and, by extension, any accompanying complications. I think it may be easier to feign ignorance and regret the non-past afterwards, but is the former even a viable logical possibility?

I'm listening to: The Eels - Fresh Feeling

2010-07-11T03:09:00.087+08:00

You don't have a clue

What it is like to be next to you

Tonight I'm actually pretty grateful to reach home safely. It's one of those rare times, and I know it isn't that dangerous but walking home alone at 1 in the morning from the edge of Burgundy (that's probably a couple of kilometers) is just a little scary. Even with so much on my mind.

Words can't be that strong
My heart is reeling

UtannerCity

Startling engenderment: a warm,

Stark presence, the proximate recollection of

Starched shirt collars, some

Stargazer washed ashore by a sea of lapis twilight, who would

Starve for your attention.

I'm listening to: Chuck Bartowski singing

2010-07-10T03:30:00.013+08:00

I. NEED. THE. LEVI. VERSION. OF. TERRIFIED. NOW.

=(

This viewer commented on the Youtube video - "he used the intersect to sing."
LOLWTF but Chuck + singing = iMelt. *Sigh*

I had the most wonderful evening out, and my tummy and soul are both well fed and comfortably satiated.

The stars shine in the sky tonight
Like a path beyond the grave
When you wish upon that star
There's two of us you need to save

It's not where you're coming from
It's where you're going to
And I just wanna go with you

I'm listening to: Blink 182 - Girl at the Rock Show

2010-07-07T16:27:00.000+08:00

The girl at the rock show is everything I'm not cool enough but would love to be, except maybe that she got kicked out of school for failing and they're running off to Vegas. Blink has such cute songs =)

There's something sitting at the back of my mind, and I think it's the troubling dream I had and already half-forgot, because I'm not sure what it means my subconscious is harboring. I would love to have clean forgotten everything but I know it won't let me and perhaps it's just a reminder to be careful and to look out for similar signs, I think. All the same, the residual emotions and psychological energies are quite disturbing, but I'm glad they're at least avoiding repression as far as I can tell, by manifesting in the dream content which I would've preferred not to remember upon waking. I still remember the Latent vs. Manifest dream content from my IS a couple of years back; and maybe it's because I don't know enough about dream interpretation in its most established sense, but I've always thought that a healthy and reasonably keen intrapersonal awareness is hands down better than some dream dictionary, any day.

There's spring in the air
They're sweeping the streets
Wind is a breeze
The sun becomes her, he agrees

What's holding up her face?
Nothing but blue skies
Passageways to windows
That don't close

Where do you live?
Love is a place
Where are you from?
She says; ask yourself, ask anyone

What's holding up her face?
Nothing but blue skies
Passageways the mind's eye
Contemplates

I'm listening to: Coldplay - Shiver

2010-07-07T03:26:00.132+08:00

I feel a little creeped out by what I wrote two posts ago, in light of recent events. It's always hard to (or not to) say goodbye when you never thought you had to - this I have really come to understand. You're sad to be left behind when someone else's gone ahead of you, but we'll all eventually catch up anyway; and then the most important thing is to have had a wonderful journey. This is what it means to me: I compiled a list of songs I would like to be played at my wake, in no particular order.

Boston - Amanda
Goo Goo Dolls - Name
Absinthe Glow - Contradictions
Savage Garden - I Knew I Loved You
Cyndi Lauper - Time After Time
Mae - Skyline Drive
Bryan Adams - Summer of '69
Ryuichi Sakamoto - Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence (Piano Version)
The Eels - The Stars Shine in the Sky Tonight
Travis - Under the Moonlight
Billie Holiday - I'll Be Seeing You
Hole - Malibu
The Carpenters - For All We Know
Saigon Kick - Love is On the Way
Dashboard Confessional - Hands Down
Alanis Morissette - Mary Jane
Chicago - If You Leave Me Now
Yellowcard - Ocean Avenue
Kim Carnes - Bette Davis Eyes
Bobby Darin - The Other Half of Me
Sixpence None the Richer - Kiss Me
The Temptations - My Girl
Jason Mraz - You and I Both
Sugarcult - Memory (Acoustic)
Anberlin - Naive Orleans
The Drifters - This Magic Moment
R.E.M. - Daysleeper
Buddy Holly - Maybe Baby
Norah Jones - Sunrise
Dido - Take My Hand
The Beatles - Ticket to Ride
Saves the Day - Driving in the Dark
The Eagles - Love Will Keep Us Alive
The Juliana Theory - Top of the World
Copeland - Coffee
Human League - Together in Electric Dreams
Butch Walker - Take Tomorrow
Katie Melua - Nine Million Bicycles
The Raveonettes - The Christmas Song
Ben Folds Five - Air
U2 - Sweetest Thing
Elliott Smith - Alameda
Camera Obscura - French Navy
Metric - Love is a Place
Something Corporate - As You Sleep
Belinda Carlisle - Summer Rain
The Cranberries - You and Me
The Platters - Sea of Love
Incubus - Echo
Jolie Holland - Sascha
Otis Redding - These Arms of Mine
Belle & Sebastian - Another Sunny Day
Explosions in the Sky - Your Hand in Mine
Keane - Somewhere Only We Know
Barry Louis Polisar - All I Want is You
Our Lady Peace - Somewhere Out There
Foals - This Orient
Coldplay - The Scientist
Don Henley - Boys of Summer
Vanessa Carlton - San Francisco
The Beach Boys - Wouldn't It be Nice
John Mayer - Not Myself
Aqualung - Brighter Than Sunshine

** You know who you are; I'd be very grateful if you'd please arrange this for me =)

Some of my favourite songs aren't here, but I think these suit the occasion and they're so lovely and evocatively nostalgic. By then, they might all have become REALLY vintage and I can't quite imagine Dashboard and SoCo being 'old school'.

I'm listening to: KT Tunstall - Under the Weather

2010-06-30T01:48:00.000+08:00

Come over here, lady
Let me wipe your tears away
Come a little nearer, baby
'Cause you'll heal over
Heal over, heal over, someday

I'm having a really hard time figuring out where it's coming from. I wish you'd ask me the right questions so I could tell you the right answers. And maybe we're all feeling the same way. Then again, I've realised that the tendency to dwell on the less unappealing at the expense of neglecting its opposite, extends beyond regarding only the past and to the present as well. For that reason, it makes perfect sense to doubt any of this is as pleasant as it appears when your mental scope is so apparently selective. And what of it? There's no denying we're on to something, but it isn't what everyone thought they knew, and just as well because so much less is at stake here. I don't live in the moment, so that's probably a good thing.

I still don't know where it's coming from, but I've made peace elsewhere. I think I know what's happening, but why - I couldn't tell you. Or, on second thought, I could. It's a little naive but never too much to ask. I'm just sorry if I come to find I've misplaced it because I wonder if it could be relocated in time - for what; and if at all. But at least I can say I saw you back there.

It's so damn sweet of you

To look me in the eye

I'm listening to: Boston - Amanda

2010-06-27T03:38:00.003+08:00

It makes me feel so sad. I think if any guy I didn't mind serenades me with this, I'll just burst into a bawling, blubbering mess. But as of now, I'm as 'green' as someone ready to hurl, and I doubt it'll happen (well, tough luck) so I just I want this song played at my funeral to signify/celebrate everything that could've been but wasn't quite meant to be.

There's a secret I want to tell you.

I'm listening to: Foals - This Orient

2010-06-19T03:23:00.000+08:00

Kiss me all night, don't ever let me go
I'll never be the same
If we ever meet again

It's so rare for a catchy mainstream hit like this to actually be about something interesting, though I might just be overattributing meaning to it. It's hardly philosophically significant but striking anyway. Fate, chance, and transience; hello, I like you.

I wish everything was definitely nothing at all - so I don't keep wondering about what got lost along the way. In Little Italy - we don't know it but we've been looking out from different windows at the same sidewalk cafe.

"It's ironic because I don't think you're expecting me to stay and wait, and as much as I don't want to either, I can't help being hung up on every last goodnight. And I secretly still harbor everything I can't bear to recall."

, maybe if I asked
, but I know where I sit.
, so I wouldn't have to guess
, more than I already am
, which will be easier said than done;
but a start, nonetheless.
Though I will never --
, but just so I know you know.

What a movie.

Dear John,

I'm listening to: Iron & Wine - Such Great Heights

2010-06-15T15:35:00.002+08:00

I am thinking it's a sign
That the freckles in our eyes are mirror images
And when we kiss they're perfectly aligned

And I have to speculate
That God himself did make us into corresponding shapes
Like puzzle pieces from the clay

True, it may seem like a stretch
But it's thoughts like this that catch my troubled head
When you're away, when I am missing you to death

When you are out there on the road

For several weeks of shows and when you scan the radio
I hope this song will guide you home

They will see us waving from such great heights
"Come down now," they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away
"Come down now," but we'll stay.

I'm listening to: The Killers - When You Were Young

2010-06-12T00:00:00.000+08:00

babble, babble, bitch, bitch
rebel, rebel, party, party
sex, sex, sex

don't forget the violence
blah, blah, blah
got your lovey-dovey sad and lonely
stick your stupid slogan in
everybody sing along

ARE YOU MOTHERFUCKERS READY FOR THE NEW SHIT?

I'm listening to: Keane - Your Eyes Open

2010-06-10T02:08:00.003+08:00

Funny thing is when I look into your eyes
I sense something so sincere in your disguise

Then I wake up to your tele-smoke screen.

I can't stop listening to the soundtrack replay in my head.

I'm listening to: Patrick Swayze - Hungry Eyes

2010-06-09T01:13:00.003+08:00

Would you be my boyfriend for 5-minutes?
What?
Please, just go with it, okay?

Even when you think you've got it pretty much figured out, a little consistency might be too much to ask for. Maybe only then, you'll realise it wasn't what you were looking for. Following which, you could wait till you're ready to hurl before you decide to get off and start wondering what took you so long.

"I never said it was her own fault for being a cold-hearted bitch. Because it clearly isn't, since it hinges on her parents' early divorce; but it doesn't make her any less of a bitch."

Last evening, I had the most wonderful time with great friends and great food, and the company of Swayze and his disgustingly cheesy but nonetheless addictively likeable song all the way home, on a chocolate (truffle cake) high. Today, I feel like I got run over.

Stay, ahh, just a little bit longer
Please, please, please, please, please
Tell me you're going to

Now, your daddy don't mind
And your mommy don't mind
If we have another dance, together
Just one more, one more time

Oh, won't you stay just a little bit longer
Please let me hear you say that you will
Say you will

Won't you place your sweet lips to mine
Won't you say you love me
All of the time

Come on, come on, come on and stay

I'm listening to: Michael Learns to Rock - 25 Minutes

2010-06-05T05:51:00.001+08:00

I was so happy for a couple of hours (probably, in real time). Now it's just a dig at *some kind* of predicament, yet I don't feel too badly about it.

Never before have I felt this way
I know what is right, but want for him to stay
I must be made of steel
For I just threw out the love of my dreams

He's in my eyes, he is in my ears
He's in my blood, he is in my tears
I breathe love and see him every day
Even though my love is a world away

I'm listening to: k.d. lang - Miss Chatelaine

2010-06-03T05:49:00.001+08:00

Just a kiss, just a kiss
I have lived just for this
I can't explain why I've become
Miss Chatelaine

Just a smile, just a smile
Hold me captive just awhile
I can't explain why I've become
Miss Chatelaine

Every time your eyes meet mine
Clouds of qualm burst into sunshine

Just a sigh, just a sigh
Words my love just reply
I can't explain why I've become
Miss Chatelaine

Miss Chatelaine

I'm listening to: Frank-Bunny

2010-06-02T03:17:00.002+08:00

Donnie: Why do you wear that stupid bunny suit?
Frank: Why are you wearing that stupid man suit?

Scared sleepless by the awful Frank-Bunny and having spent ages trying to figure out the timeline/jet-engine, I think I've finally arrived at a personally satisfactory understanding of the film. The jet-engine that crashes through Donnie's roof in both the Primary and Tangent Universes at the same point in collateral real-time is an Artifact thrown back in time through a wormhole or portal of sorts 28 days later in the Tangent Universe, where its presence is a jarring paradox (since it has no cause for being) that causes a rift in space-time resulting in the Tangent Universe to branch off from the Primary, of which the former occupies the bulk of the plot. So under the urging/orchestration of Frank-Bunny (the Manipulated Dead: having died in the Tangent Universe) and with the help of some other Manipulated Living (Roberta Sparrow/Grandma Death, Miss Pomeroy, Dr. Monitoff, etc.), Donnie is the Living Receiver who unfolds a chain of events that eventually lead up to his deliberate sending of the falling jet-engine through the time portal, thus giving the 28-day-old fallen jet-engine a reason for being, and preventing yet another paradox of two metaphysically identical fallen jet-engines in the Tangent Universe, which would destroy it (and send it back on yet another loop?).

Interestingly, information collected from a few web sources (yes, I actually did research!) pointed out that this Tangent Universe goes on a replay loop until this had been done, as suggested by and giving reason for the characters' studied behavior, especially Donnie's creepy smiles; as well as Frank-Bunny's existence, since he dies only in the Tangent Universe, but when he appears to Donnie in it, his death hasn't even taken place yet. Just moments ago, I was wondering what Donnie's eventual death had to do with his saving the world, and I figured it out. He didn't die to save the world, he died because he saved the world, since Frank-Bunny never died to appear as a vision to get him to leave the house before the jet-engine crashed directly on his room. I suppose the former would be accurate as well, since (after multiple Tangent-Universe loops and some retained impression of things and events) the Donnie Darko in replay #? finally did everything he did with the understanding that it would cost him his life. In the theater, he asks Frank-Bunny when 'this' all ends (doubly meaning the relooping as well as the nightmarish visions), and Frank-Bunny replies saying Donnie should know.

But I don't get why the time portal opens in the Tangent Universe, though I think both Tangent and Primary Universes do not interact at all, save the jet-engine; and they both have equal cause for independent existence (or more accurately the lack thereof for the opposite), which means that the film jumps from one to the other rather than their taking turns to occupy the singular plot. I THINK. And I also don't get why the Tangent Universe branched off prior to the appearance of the jet-engine. Oh wait, that could've been when it was passing through the time portal and flying through the air before it actually landed. Okay. It all makes sense now! Frank-Bunny isn't scary just because of his costume, but what his presence stands for: the space-time warp from hell. Bloody scary. The Donnie Darko filmmakers really bound their cult-classic brainchild well; it was microcosmically perfect, which makes a sequel not only unnecessary but impossibly difficult to successfully produce well, with the expectations it has to live up to. Which is probably why S. Darko sadly but not unexpectedly sucked ass, despite having some (inadequately redemptive of the overall product) interesting qualities of its own.

Oh yes, the fictional Roberta Sparrow's The Philosophy of Time Travel is fascinating.

And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had.

I'm listening to: Taking Back Sunday - You're So Last Summer

2010-05-26T04:02:00.002+08:00

I feel like my favourite geek (pre-mid-season-three) sometimes. Unfortunately, as far as I know, nothing around me is such that a genuine comparison is warranted, and nobody has the same compelling motivations for that kind of behavior (or lack thereof). Very unfortunately. So I'll just have to settle for the most ordinary reasons which are, perhaps, not even that common. But a very timely bit of food for thought: what seems so undeniably clear cut might not actually be giving the right idea about what's going on. It's a little like Gettier's problem.

I just happened to read this a short while ago; an anonymous song reviewer said she assumed that because her ex was so quick to replace her with another girl, she meant nothing to him, but what he did (a constant variable?) turned out to be because of the exact opposite and it's not hard to see how it's just as likely, even though it doesn't make him look so cool. I think the point is that for most of what we 'know', we really only think we know. And of course it isn't good enough to make every kind of judgment we often make, not just to avoid being unfair to the other party, but simply because it's quite pointless given the mediocre sort of information and processing capabilities we have to settle for. To put it another way, it's logically meaningless, though ironically so, since it depends on the inadequacy of the application of logic. Yeah, so, I'm really not preaching about the principle of charity - or is it the benefit of the doubt? - because they're besides the point.

You can forget everything I mentioned in the past, I can't really be bothered and I don't think I care anyway. You're an awful waste of my time - so go right ahead and throw yourself out of my brain. YOU are sick.

p.s. I'm sad I lost my retainers. I even dreamt that I found them and I was so disappointed when I woke up. I don't know what the cats did with them but I shouldn't have left them lying around.

You're a touch overrated;

You're a lush and I hate it,

But these grass stains on my knees

They won't mean a thing.

And all I need to know

Is that I'm something you'll be missing.

I'm listening to: Renee Olstead - Midnight at the Oasis

2010-05-21T04:02:00.000+08:00

Oboje są przekonani,
że połączyło ich uczucie nagłe.
Piękna jest taka pewność,
ale niepewność jest piękniejsza.
Sądzą, że skoro nie
znali się wcześniej,
nic miedy nimi nigdy się nie działo.
A co na to ulice, schody, korytarze,
na których mogli się od dawna mijać?

Chciałabym ich zapytać,
czy nie pamietają -
może w drzwiach obrotowych
kiedyś twarzą w twarz?
jakieś ,,przepraszam\'\' w ścisku?
głos ,,pomyłka\'\' w słuchawce?
- ale znam ich odpowiedź.
Nie, nie pamietają.

Bardzo by ich zdziwiło,
że od dłuższego już czasu
bawił się nimi przypadek.

Jeszcze nie całkiem gotów
zamienić się dla nich w los,
zbliżał ich i oddalał,
zabiegał im droge
i tłumiąc chichot
odskakiwał w bok.

Były znaki, sygnały,
cóż z tego, że nieczytelne.
Może trzy lata temu
albo w zeszły wtorek
pewien listek przefrunął
z ramienia na ramię?
Było coś zgubionego i podniesionego.
Kto wie, czy już nie piłka
w zaroślach dzieciństwa?

Były klamki i dzwonki,
na których zawczasu
dotyk kladł się na dotyk.
Walizki obok siebie w przechowalni.
Był może pewnej nocy jednakowy sen,
natychmiast po zbudzeniu zamazany.

Każdy przecież początek
to tylko ciąg dalszy,
a księga zdarzeń
zawsze otwarta w połowie.

Miłość od pierwszego wejrzenia
Szymborska Wisława

Not that I understand this original Polish version, but I like it so much because it plays on the infinite possibilities surrounding the concept of intelligent design operating beyond the more apparent natural order of the universe. Thing is, we would never even get a sense of its existence as long as it isn't revealed to us in some way or another, as is more often the case than not, and that means it's always an open possibility. The wonder and beauty associated with intelligent design, coupled with its elusiveness, is what makes it so fascinating. If so, what we don't know is far greater (not quantitatively) than what we do know.

That makes me a happy fatalist. I don't mean to suggest that I subscribe to the commonly assumed sit-around-and-rot kind of fatalism, but that it's a bit of a straw-man argument. Just because you believe in a predetermined course/end doesn't mean you believe in having no part in how it plays out. As far as I'm concerned - with limitations to what I do know - I'll do as much as I am willingly able to do in view of the things I am aware I want. I don't believe in working myself to death; unless it's a matter of life and death. If it sounds like an excuse for slacking off, it might well be my best one, in ready acceptance of the necessarily flawed state of humanity in general.

Which is also why we're always waiting. There's so much out there that defies the bounds of what we're able to grasp and comprehend, but deep down inside I think we do believe in Something Else, somewhere out there.

I'm listening to: Flyleaf - There for You

2010-05-19T00:44:00.117+08:00

Swirling shades of blue
Slow dancing in your sky
The sun kisses the earth

I've been watching Chuck and I'm getting to the end of the second season. It's nothing unique to the show and also unavoidable given the plot, but I really dig the overt dramatic irony, particularly in the very complicated relationship between Chuck and Sarah. Because Chuck's the human Intersect (a database of highly important government secrets), Sarah, a CIA agent (together with Casey), is his handler in charge of protecting him mostly from Fulcrum (rogue CIA) agents after the human Intersect. She works undercover at a frozen yoghurt shop near Chuck's Buy More and poses as his fake/cover girlfriend. They both really like each other, as is apparent to many of the other characters in the show, but Sarah can't compromise her cover in view of Chuck's safety. So, while Chuck's made clear his feelings for her, Sarah has to keep (VERY coldly) pushing him away and it secretly hurts her as much as it hurts Chuck, who hasn't a clue and thinks he doesn't stand a chance with her because she's not interested. It becomes a vicious cycle with Chuck unintentionally hurting Sarah's feelings back, from his short involvements with Lou, Jill, etc. The worst part is their having to show the rest of the world everything they want to but can't be. I know, I'm a complete geek.

Just for fun, I'm keeping track of how my new monster bruise changes colour, though I'm not sick enough to want to post visual updates everyday. In fact, over the course of the afternoon/evening, it's transformed from pink to red and finally settled in this dark plummy shade. It's probably the grossest bruise I've ever seen and gotten, but that makes it cool (apparently, my psychological development sometimes reverses and regresses to the level of a little boy's).

Day 1:

All of the time, we don't have perfect knowledge and it's easy to forget that.
Sometimes, doing something's as good as doing nothing. Then, nothing should be done, but this less often the case than assumed.
All of the time, you can't see what's right behind you, but it doesn't mean it isn't right there with you.

Sometimes, what you don't know can hurt you.

All of the time, we're waiting.

Sometimes, the spaces between mean more than the words themselves. It's nice to think so.

In my defeat, I wish I knew you were safely at home.

I'm listening to: Red Hot Chili Peppers - Soul To Squeeze

2010-05-17T01:20:00.001+08:00

I've got a bad disease
But from my brain is where I bleed.
Insanity it seems,
Has got me by my soul to squeeze.

Where are you now?

Penny and Me
Anna Molly

Boy With a Coin

25 Minutes
Flashdance
Is This It?
Santa Monica

Date With a Night
Lyla
City of Blinding Lights

Hi. It might sound funny, but I'm sick of Nausea. Today we climb into a time capsule and stay there till it suits us just fine. Books open unto the dizzying surrealness of infinity do not actually exist. So, I know your name but that secret's safe with me. Then again, who buries those which in turn nourish the Breathing? I'm sure I've got a paper clip somewhere in the depths of my pocket, if I can find it.

I'm listening to: Queensrÿche - Silent Lucidity

2010-05-10T01:19:00.000+08:00

FUCK YOU BITCH.

I'm listening to: Jordan Hill - Remember Me This Way

2010-05-09T01:37:00.001+08:00

Say "hello" to the domestic UNgoddess. Bree van der Kamp represents the quintessential domestic goddess to me, and how she does everything looking so impeccably collected, besides the fact that it's television, really escapes me. My weekend, so far, has been so mundanely weird. On Friday, I made cream of (white button) mushroom soup and cleaned the house (read: vacuum, mop, etc.), and I was very happy/relieved to discover that roux can be made with olive oil in place of butter as well. Today (Saturday), I went to grab groceries and made dinner! Pan-fried fillet of herbed fish, creamed spinach and savory buttered rice. I'm quite proud of myself, but I feel like the new domestic help and I've also been eating and watching TV a LOT, that I'd much rather be doing other things. If this keeps up, by the time school starts again I'll have piled on - god only knows - how much weight.

I wonder where I can find the old 1995 Casper movie. I used to own it on videotape and watched it so often as a kid and I REALLY LOVED IT. This is my favourite scene. =) When he takes her arms and puts them around his neck and when she gets scared and clings onto him so tightly and he gives that completely uncreepy but really cute lopsided smile, my heart just melts. =D

"If it wasn't love, it was a lot like it."
Oliver Martin, A Lot Like Love

I'm listening to: Something Corporate - Punk Rock Princess

2010-05-04T01:58:00.001+08:00

~~Saw you last night~~
Dance by the light of the moon

Stars in your eyes
Free from the life that you knew

Saw you last night
Stars in the sky
~~Smiled in my room~~

I'm listening to: Deerhunter - Agoraphobia

2010-05-02T02:09:00.001+08:00

Aaahhh you're so cute. RLY I cookie-cutter-<3 you.

And after some time, I knew I would go blind

But seeing only binds the vision to the eye.

I lose my voice, I know

But I've nothing left to say.

p.s. This song is creepy (read: haunting but emotively and aesthetically beautiful). It induces super deja vu and transports the psyche back into the old school Christopher Pike novels I grew up reading. Not exactly where I want to be; they're, albeit fascinatingly unforgettable, existential nightmares.

I'm listening to: Goo Goo Dolls - Iris

2010-05-01T04:00:00.002+08:00

And I'd give up forever to touch you
Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
And sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of the truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

I've been listening to Iris for more than half a decade and only really listened to the lyrics just a couple of days ago (very uncharacteristically, given I'm such a sucker for nice lyrics). It brings back a whole flood of memories, and that they've acquired (figuratively) a vaguely musty feel, shows all the more how they're merely reconstructions, since the original experiences could never be that way. There's so much harbored intensity in the temporal, metaphysical peak of human experience as described, because of the stark contrast between being cognizant of these moments and their inevitable transience.

Though I'm completely ruining everything, I just can't help but mention that a premise central to this idea is "everything's made to be broken". It might not be true, like "everything fades". Thanks to Leibniz, I no longer subscribe unconditionally to Heraclitus's everchanging river, but it doesn't make transitions any easier. In this case, especially when you know you're just a tiny bit shy of reaching whatever it is, coupled with the natural predisposition to be more loss-averse than attracted to the prospect of gains, you've basically put yourself in a very small spot. Not what the song has to bother with, though, but unfortunately it's more often than not the case.

An encounter with near-perfection (again perfection is elusive) therefore has to be broadened as a concept to include some fatalistically unavoidable ending and the accompanying barrage of emotions from hell. Even stoic acceptance doesn't preclude a general sense of pity/sadness for the sweeping evanescence of each distinct, possibly discrete state, that so acutely outlines the human condition. Is there a solution? Probably not. Can anything be done? Take more photos, collect more souvenirs; keepsakes that help your overworked and grossly incommensurate memory out. Above all, a consistently lucid awareness of impending closure is probably indispensable, for obvious reasons.

Reason and emotion quite apparently don't always cooperate, much less agree with each other. Ephemeralness and the idea of infinite change plagues the mind and its highly constrained ability to conceive quantitatively. Yet there is beauty in a passing moment, like a flower at the height of its bloom, that has the capacity to permanently affect subsequent states. Less tangible than pinning it down, but it's for keeps just the same.

If you've found It, don't let it go.

I'm listening to: The Distillers - The Hunger

2010-04-25T01:49:00.001+08:00

Waiting for Nothing. You daren't even think properly about it, because it inevitably ends in some miniature disaster, and it hurts your battered Ego to even try. Absence of pain v Pain of absence. Do you really think hyper-rationality, like that, is good for you? What is, intellectual/cognitive drift? Set Psyche on 'cruise' mode after blindfolding her. Die a sweet, slow death. Let your guts putrefy in the midday heat and become food for the flies. To hell with your stinking philosophical rhetoric; you're just bored stiff AND you know it. Jack isn't in the damned box, so GTFO YOU MORON.

This is existential ennui.

I've been dancing with your ghost
Toasting note to note
So here's to the passing of all that could be
Between you and me

I'd rather be here
Than anywhere with you

I'm listening to: Saves the Day - Driving in the Dark

2010-04-22T03:07:00.001+08:00

Everything I was back when you had the hands my heart was in
I was never good at goodbye

Can I swallow this bottle whole?
So, this brain in my head can forget your face

Allegories possess an element of existential comfort, in that they embody a universal generality - the glue between and of the Human Experience. "You are not alone," they tell us implicitly. But it is just as conceivable that their function is void, and they never occupy any other plane besides that of (self-contained) symbolism. In other words, they are possibly inadequate of translation/reduction to anything less elusive; hopelessly impersonal. Of what significance, then, are they?

There is no comfort in the truth of forms, as far as I can tell.

You left me here beside myself
Left me with all the reasons I was wrong for you.

I'm listening to: Phil Phillips - Sea of Love

2010-04-17T01:58:00.006+08:00

Come with me, my love,

To the sea, the sea of love.

I wanna tell you how much I love you.

Do you remember when we met?

That's the day I knew you were my pet.

I wanna tell you how much I love you.

Come with me, to the sea of love.

It finally hit me - the term is 'Nausea'. Sartre wrote the novel, I heard about it, but I've never read it. It came to visit again today, which prompted me to put two and two together and go find out a bit more about the book. My knowledge of the text is far from comprehensive (read: Wikipedia, booknotes, etc.), but the extensive quotations I came across suffice to draw the connection between Nausea and my previously nameless nostalgia-dejavu-nausea complex. It hits with a raw intensity exactly as (physical) nausea does, but with a strikingly acute sense of static dislocation from temporal occupations or perceptual existence, and the combination - a cloying headiness - is downright revolting. Imagine being suspended in a bubble and forced to watch its impenetrable but translucent walls getting constantly bombarded from the outside. You get both senses of insulation as well as being overwhelmed, which sounds a bit like some variant of cognitive dissonance.

In other words, it attacks all aspects of experience: the physical, emotional and intellectual. Before making some sense of it, as I've just happened to, the intellectual component manifested only as a startlingly painful awareness of a sterile vacuity, which I've discovered is a direct result of "the fact that inanimate objects and situations remain absolutely indifferent to his existence. As such, they show themselves to be resistant to whatever significance human consciousness might perceive in them." (Wikipedia, Jean Paul Sartre) It's intuitive and quite self-explanatory so I won't bother, mostly because I won't be able to do it any justice whatsoever. It's an experience so richly nuanced despite being completely sickening and elusively difficult to pin down, but I will eventually get my head around it.

At this point, Nausea is just a label. It seems to fit but it might not be exactly what I'm looking for. It's awful but I've been struggling with it since childhood (even worse, with utter confusion and barely rudiments of any understanding) and occurrences have dwindled substantially, thank goodness, but they are still irksome. I need to find out more, but I've first got to put this aside for a better time to do that.

p.s. If anyone knows exactly what I'm talking about, you also know what to do. It would mean a lot.

I'm listening to: Incubus - Stellar

2010-04-12T22:42:00.001+08:00

Meet me in outer space
We could spend the night
Watch the earth come up

"Can you bring me my chapstick?"
"No, Napoleon."
"But my lips hurt real bad!"

This has got to be one of the cutest movies ever. What wouldn't I give for one of those tees.

And these moves are SWEET. I feel my heart flutter <3

I'm listening to: Barry Louis Polisar - All I Want Is You

2010-04-02T00:22:00.000+08:00

So maybe it's true, I can't live without you.

To have nothing and everything at the same time. The state of these affairs hangs in precarious balance; it's a sublime novelty, but also one pregnant with terror. It's also never, ever, viewed as a given. With every teetering step taken along the way, the intricate complex of emotions escalates in intensity, until -

How do you know what the form is supposed to be like, if you've encountered but a single instance? It's clearly impossible to derive a broadly accurate idea, and its significance (as absolute) is questionable. The dimension of being we occupy allows no direct apprehension of the forms, so in that sense they aren't real to us, though technically speaking, they're excellent tools for navigation. And perhaps that's it. With regard to uncommon experiences, we simply have to make do without - as if blinded.

But there's so much time to figure out the rest of my life,
And you've already got me coming undone.

I'm listening to: Belle and Sebastian - Funny Little Frog

2010-03-27T04:08:00.000+08:00

Honey, lovin' you is the greatest thing
I get to be myself and I get to sing
I get to play at being irresponsible
I come home late and I love your soul
I never forget you in my prayers
I never have a bad thing to report

You're my picture on the wall
You're my vision in the hall
You're the one I'm talking to
When I get in from my work
You are my girl, and you don't even know it
I am living out the life of a poet
I am the jester in the ancient court
And you're the funny little frog in my throat

My eyesight's fading, my hearing's dim
I can't get insured for the state I'm in
I'm a danger to myself I've been starting fights
At the party at the club on a Saturday night
But I don't get disapproving from my girl
She gets all the highlights wrapped in pearls

You're my picture on the wall
You're my vision in the hall
You're the one I'm talking to
When I get in from my work
You are my girl, and you don't even know it
I am living out the life of a poet
I am the jester in the ancient court
And you're the funny little frog in my throat

I had a conversation with you at night
It's a little one sided but that's all right
I tell you in the kitchen about my day
You sit on the bed in the dark changing places
With the ghost that was there before you came
You've come to save my life again

I don't dare to touch your hand
I don't dare to think of you
In a physical way
And I don't know how you smell
You are the cover of my magazine
You're my fashion tip, a living museum
I'd pay to visit you on rainy Sundays
And maybe tell you all about it, someday

I'm listening to: Owl City - Vanilla Twilight

2010-03-20T20:41:00.002+08:00

The stars lean down to kiss you
And I lie awake and miss you
Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere

I stand facing a sea of dazzling colour. Seemingly that of a projected hologram, tiles that blink and flash chartreuse, mustard, aqua, and a whole multitude of other hues extend their digital sublimity into the horizon to meet the bruised sky. They won't bear my weight - they aren't even material - and yet they can't not.

Standing a few feet away, she beckons to me. I can't tell how old she is. Childlike wonder and innocence juxtapose jarringly against an aged wisdom and complexity, and yet it's a perfectly coherent picture. Her countenance displays an enigmatic cocktail of emotions and exudes an unearthly vibrancy, which I find oddly comforting.

She tells me, "If you take but a single step, it'll bring you to the point of no return, but also that much closer to the other end. What you see is as real as you are, although it might not look like it; upon contact, the two different dimensions you and your landscape each occupy will overlap long enough for you to make your way. Think carefully: you have to cross to the other end eventually, but the journey won't be easy and there's no hurry to get started."

I'm confused; I think I already knew these things. Why is she telling me this?

"You can take along your helmet, baseball bat and teddybear. That's all they'll permit, and that's all you'll need. Try not to look back as you're going, because you won't see anything."

I hug them close to my chest and turn away from her to look at the skyline again. I can hardly believe what I'm about to do. I fill my lungs, feel them struggle against my ribcage, and extend my foot.

I'm listening to: Hole - Malibu

2010-03-19T01:11:00.003+08:00

Like a watercolour painting, day and night blend seamlessly. Each hour is a ravenous pelican child that devours its precedent.
We're always cautiously treading the brink of an ontological revelation.

We used to leave the blue lights on and there was a beat
Ever since you have been gone, it’s all caffeine-free, faux punk fatigues
Said it all before:
They try to kick it, their feet fall asleep
Yet no harm done, no;
None of them want to fight me

Combat baby, come back baby
Fight off the lethargy
Don’t go quietly, combat baby
Said you would never give up easy,
Combat baby, come back

I'm listening to: Westlife - My Girl

2010-03-07T02:33:00.003+08:00

And here it is. Don't mind the poor quality, and watch the entire thing!

It's one of my favourite songs (original by The Temptations) and Westlife sounds pretty good too, but it's the CUTESY, SYNCHRONIZED choreography that's enough, I think, to turn straight guys gay. The charming Irish accent doesn't hurt either. What a great video; I'm so glad I happened to find it 'cause it made my day and I totally dig it! It'll be a long while before I stop grinning like an idiot everytime I watch this =D

Do you remember when we met?
That's the day I knew you were my pet
I wanna tell you how much I love you.

I'm listening to: The Juliana Theory - The Closest Thing

2010-03-06T00:25:00.005+08:00

If a reasonable comparison can be made with the question about the tree falling in the forest, the answer would also be the same - that it doesn't.

8-67 67-34-12-45-56'23 23-34-89-56-67-89-7-56 90-89-89-34 12 6-90-78-90-34-34-45. 89'8 23-90 23-90-45-45-67 12-6-90-78-56 23-67-12-56'23 67-12-0-0-34-7-34-34, 12-7-34 34-5-34-7 8-90-45-34 23-90 45-90-45 7-90-56 6-34-89-7-56 12-6-90-34 56-90 90-45-45-34-45 12-7-67 4-90-8-45-90-45-56. 89 34-34-12-45-90-67 23-89-23-67 89 4-90-78-90-34 67-34-90-0 6-34-12-45 56-67-34 0-12-89-7 67-90-78 8-78-23-56 6-34 45-34-34-90-89-7-56. 0-90-34-12-23-34 67-12-7-56 89-7 56-67-34-45-34.

Are we straying too far towards the path heading straight for the purported telos?
The stars are bright tonight, and I am walking nowhere.

Just one anomalous instance, like a toppled domino at one end of its line, means the collapse of the entire preceding chain. Can't we do anything about the uneven dynamics? 89-56 78-78-23-56 89-23-7'56 45-12-89-45, for both object and observer alike. I don't need you, but-

Welcome to the infinite regression. 56-90-34 67-34-90-0 78-23.

Hey Lloyd, I'm ready to be heartbroken,
'Cause I can't see further than my own nose at this moment.

I'm listening to: Billy Idol - Eyes Without a Face

2010-02-27T00:10:00.000+08:00

Ironically, to encounter the opaque boundaries of consciousness is an unwelcome elucidation. Like a book with sections of pages stapled shut, the mind does a lot of its own stapling behind my back. There's so many important things I've forgotten (to an abnormal degree?) and been more than mildly surprised to recall upon some triggering event.

These lapses in memory begin as sparks falling on the mental fabric, burning holes that gradually grow larger and larger, and the threads that crossover - axes of time and space - come undone as well. In the anarchy that ensues in its stifled sound, it might be attributed to the subconscious getting a little too greedy and territorially aggressive. Would that it could manifest more tangibly, even as a hallucination in the style of House with Amber.

How much can we really believe what we think we remember? Mental checkpoints and distinctions drawn are as volatile as plates composing the Earth's shifting crust; we are never back exactly where we last left off. I might be getting athazagoraphobic. What kind of phobia is the fear thereof?

Les yeux sans visage.

I'm listening to: Joss Stone - Fell in Love with a Boy

2010-02-22T02:24:00.000+08:00

You're the dream that hasn't ended
And I'm still anxious for rest
Your words they seem to hang above my head

You're the bud before the flower,
Unfurls into full bloom
Captivating beauty, but it maybe all too soon

You're the song that writes a story,
But leaves a lot to read
The closest thing to perfect, but the farthest thing from me.

How can something make such perfect sense and be completely crazy at the same time? ~~It obviously can't.~~ I just have to take that back. Reason, as a tool, is useful only within limits and can't operate on anything and everything. Evidently, not this. I'm done losing sleep (not literally) over it trying to iron the stupid kinks out.

This post ends prematurely, because I cannot at the same time satisfactorily articulate and obscure (for very good reasons, I promise you) my thoughts any further, and there is clearly no point in attempting to do so.

On a separate note, thank you so much for the late night conversations and fresh new perspectives. That you're halfway around the world, I wish it wasn't so; but I've also realised the physical distance doesn't really matter sometimes. I <3 you very much and I can't wait to see you again in June =)

I'm listening to: The Drifters - This Magic Moment

2010-02-20T03:23:00.006+08:00

Chaque fois que tu t'en vas
Je pretends que tout va bien

And then it happened
It took me by surprise
I knew that you felt it too
By the look in your eyes

I'm listening to: The Platters - Only You

2010-02-19T03:21:00.000+08:00

Haven't I already buried you?

In The Last Vampire, our 5000 year-old protagonist gets an opportunity to go back in time to a pivotal moment in her history when with a knife in her hand, she has to make a decision regarding her friend's yakshini-possessed baby. What she initially did was decide not to kill him, triggering the birth of the vampiric race (since he was the first vampire) which left a long trail of blood across the centuries to follow. This time, she does otherwise, so her life technically ends where it began - in a desert in Rajastan at the dawn of human civilization within a comparatively short span of time. On the other hand, it is later revealed that the entire narrative has been documented by her friend of the modern day whom she met in Oregon and shares a unique psychic connection with.

So, does her 5000 year-old (hi)story really exist or not? More broadly, what does it mean to qualify the existence of an entity with regard to time and against what other measures can this be done? I think I've found my answer, and it's a pretty one.

Bon soir, mon chéri.

There's a place that ends here, I know
When they close the gates I'll cry.

I'm listening to: Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist

2010-02-16T03:48:00.001+08:00

This is what it comes down to. The human mind possesses the freedom to conceive of and make choices, or conversely, is imprisoned under such an illusion which is powered by a combination of ignorance and indignance. When you are caught somewhere in the middle, you curse your luck for being in a position where the imperfection of semi-realness is incandescently illuminated. You can't stand knowing you're not holding the real controls.

What does this mean? What it doesn't mean is we can just kick back and relax. What it does mean is: things are a lot simpler and a lot more complicated at the same time. The context is intricately complex, but despite the mess we do have room to breathe, by virtue of the fact that in view of the bigger picture, our choices carry very little weight in and of themselves. Each window is born of our monadic microcosms and that's all the context we can/should take into account. Yet, a decision made is symbolic of a contract made with regard to the subsequent chain of events that unfold, that we commit well and truly to participating.

This is my new favourite movie. I'm not saving up for a Nick and Norah type magical happily-ever-after, but I'm not throwing my heart out like meat to dogs either.

Where's Fluffy?

Are you sad that we missed it?
We didn't miss it. This is it. C'mon. You wanna go home?

I'm listening to: Rufio - Over It

2010-02-11T01:47:00.000+08:00

Anti-gravity
Empty cavity

We are all monads!

The entities that are each of us, possess all properties true to every single chronological point, where the linear progression of time (its metric segmentation can, however, be granted) as well as mutual interaction (the impression of which is merely another sort of encrypted property) is but an illusion. Therefore, each of us is utterly self-contained despite seeming correlations, and simple by virtue of the underlying unity characteristic of our form.

Within this metaphysical dimension of our being, we are simple substances.

Anything but the blatant proof,
Was your lips touching mine in the photobooth.

I'm listening to: Metric - Soft Rock Star

2010-02-08T01:37:00.000+08:00

There are certain things I really can't stand sharing, and this (oh I couldn't tell you) happens to be one of them, so just GTFO KEEP YOUR PAWS TO YOURSELF AND PISS OFF THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

Climb the wall to make the sun rise in time,
But the night had already begun.

Travel through time
Who were you after you were mine?

I'm listening to: Jolie Holland - Sascha

2010-02-05T01:56:00.000+08:00

He's going outside in the middle of the night with you
Tell me what I'm supposed to do
No I'm fine, I can go another time with you
But tell me: why would I want to?

I don't know who you are.
Or maybe I've just forgotten, momentarily.
But I do know you reside on the edge of this spinning universe as we know it.

Half-formed monsters?
These tear at the corners of your mind.
They're always struggling in vain against the confines of their iron-barred cell.

We feed them candy.
Sometimes they get really fat and lazy.
In slumber they're like dead things, but we can hear their steady breathing.

Don't try to tiptoe past them.
Do close your eyes so they don't see you.
You open Pandora's box by shaking letters and words out of unwritten books.

I think I remember you.
Not your name though, but that isn't important.

You live between the lines.

I'm listening to: Cursive - The Recluse

2010-02-04T01:45:00.001+08:00

Oh please don't barrage me
with the questions
to all those ugly answers.

Felly showed me this today:

WHEN IS IT COMING TO THEATERS HERE??

I'm plain as paper.

"You're in my web now,
I've come to wrap you up tight
'til it's time to bite down."

I'm listening to: Deathcab For Cutie - Transatlanticism

2010-02-03T00:51:00.001+08:00

12-7-90-56-67-34-45 90-90-78-23-67 34-12-67.

89'8 23-90 23-89-4-89 90-45 56-67-34-23-34.

23-67-67 56-67-34 67-34-90-90 12-8 89 23-56-89-90-90 78-23-89-7-56 56-67-89-23 0-89-34-4-34 90-45 23-67-89-56 23-34-4-45-34-56 4-90-34-34 45-45-90-8 56-67-12-56 0-89-34-4-34 90-45 23-67-89-56 0-34-45-23-90-7?

23-89-90-90 12-7-67-90-7-34 34-5-34-7 6-90-56-67-34-45 34-34-4-89-0-67-34-45-89-7-56 56-67-89-23?

89'8 12-45-45-12-89-34 7-90 90-7-34 34-5-34-7 56-89-5-34-23 12 34-12-8-7.

12-7-34 34-5-34-7 89-45 12-7-67-90-7-34 34-89-34, 89 56-67-89-7-89 89-56'23 4-90-90-23-34 56-90 89-8-0-90-23-23-89-6-90-34.

89'8 23-34-90-90 89-7-23-78-45-34-34, 67-34-56 89 23-89-23-67 89 4-90-78-90-34 6-34 0-45-90-5-34-7 23-45-90-7-56.

89 7-34-34-34 67-90-78 23-90 6-12-34-90-67 45-89-56-67-56 7-90-23.

23-90-7'56 67-90-87 56-34-90-90 8-34 67-90-78 78-7-34-34-45-23-56-12-7-34 34-5-34-45-67 0-89-34-4-34 90-45 4-45-12-0 56-67-12-56 90-34-12-5-34-23 8-67 8-90-78-56-67?

89 7-34-34-34 67-90-78 23-90 8-78-4-67 4-90-90-23-34-45.

I'm listening to: Beck - Lost Cause

2010-02-02T02:43:00.000+08:00

Baby you're lost,
Baby you're lost,
Baby you're a lost cause.

It's a circle broken yet again.

For everything we've left behind and everything else we continue to share, only one thing is certain - that the passage of time is utterly impersonal. The moon and stars which look so stunningly pretty tonight seem to taunt us for the brevity and impermanence of human experience, for they are but onlookers of this cruel spectacle. The form is eternal blah blah blah; it hardly provides any comfort at this point.

~ (reason > emotion)

If anyone even tries, I swear I'll rip your throat out.

I'm listening to: Mae - Suspension

2010-01-30T02:36:00.002+08:00

Well, I fell in love with a boy who has a real live romance with a train.

I'm listening to: Chicago - If You Leave Me Now

2010-01-28T03:19:00.000+08:00

It had been occupying my thoughts for quite some time, and unbearably so; for its constant presence stifled that of other important considerations and I was bound, hand and foot, to this nagging obsession. Like a dangerous caged animal, I didn't want to keep it, but I couldn't release it either. So, I waited.

I was anticipating a symbolic interlinking of fates or some sort of serendipitious occurance, to signal the blossoming of opportunity and the Perfect Moment. It gradually became clear that I was perhaps waiting in vain, and I was also running short of time.

I mustered a little courage and a lot of blind optimism, and finally told you everything. The mild surprise that registered on your countenance was, ironically, not unexpected. Everything was going according to a plan that hadn't even been conceived.

Yet, there was something else in your expression. We both knew it was something worth pursuing. Was it a slip on your part or a gesture intended simply to let me know it even existed? The survival of an entire world, though not this one, hung in the balance as those few seconds of infinity ticked by. Again, we don't have much time.

Possibilities were starkly apparent and they electrified the air as if with static energy. Like a flash of lightning, their presence was brief but startlingly unmistakable. We could've fixed everything there and then. We could've put together the last pieces of the puzzle. Couldn't we?

They weren't yet ripe for the picking, I decided. Maybe they fall of their own accord. Who knows? Do you know? An unspoken consensus engendered as we both continued walking amidst a comfortable silence. Its ghost lingered still, and of that fact we were acutely aware.

I see our reflections on the surface of a pond that is still and, without meaning to, smile.

I'm listening to: Something Corporate - Cavanaugh Park

2010-01-23T02:58:00.004+08:00

At Cavanaugh Park
Where I used to sit all alone in the dark
And dream about things that I cannot say
You always said destiny'd blow me away
And nothing's gonna blow me away

And there was never any place
For someone like me to be totally happy
I'm running out of clock and that ain't a shock
Some things never do change
Never do change

SoCo brings back so many memories. I don't know how I could've ever thought they were uncool; now I'm sure I'll love them forever.

There isn't enough time to live in both the past and the present, not without compromising the latter. Sometimes, though, it can hardly be helped. Today occasionally turns around to show its other face; a tired palimpsest of ghosts exuding an infectious decadence. And then, there's at once too much and too little going on. The glue holding these fragments of sanity together had better be strong.

Tell me, where are you?

I need someone who'll say to me, "I'll stop the world and melt with you." Well, who's playing the serpent?

Breathe symphonies,
Come on, sweet catastrophe.

I'm listening to: Sugar Ray - Every Morning

2010-01-18T00:22:00.047+08:00

Is it just me or does serendipity not exist off of the television screen, pages of novels, or song lyrics (*psst* IMO Taylor Swift is notoriously indulgent)? Is it even supposed to mean anything beyond its immediate consequences, i.e. taken as some kind of divine omen suggesting a certain course of further action to be taken; or is that all it really is? But quite clearly, any (rare?) instances of the sort would be more than welcome, and perhaps that's enough to make them so special.

That our actions are the consequences of preceding as well as components of following complex chain/web reactions of movements across time and space, and being impossible to track them all - that's where the pleasant surprise comes in whenever we encounter some form of serendipity. In other words, it is not a standalone entity and cannot exist outside of subjective human experience or perception of events. Like giftwrap, though essentially meaningless in itself, it becomes significant because of the nebulous connotations ascribed to it by virtue of our ignorance of some greater truth.

Then again, these occurrances quite possibly represent a culmination of an opportune variety of factors, of which the positive outcome is an indication that we're headed in a good direction, whether deliberately or lacking specific intentions; hence the sign-from-above perspective. Yet, it's even more likely that many of these instances don't even surface enough to reach our attention for some reason or another and operate on the fringes of human awareness, which also makes serendipity look so lovely.

And it's warm and humid on Swanston Street
And the air is filled with electricity
And the sky is deeper than a dream

I'm listening to: Elliott Smith - Waltz #2

2010-01-14T02:19:00.000+08:00

I'm so glad that my memory's remote.

People are sometimes so full of FUCKLOADS of shit. Oh, that might be me too, but I'm overshadowed here. I'm sick to my stomach of all the melodrama. What the hell for, seriously?? I've had enough, thank you! This is in advance: PLEASE SHUT THE HELL UP and suck it up. I/you/we will not in any way be able (MAYBE BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO - it's a waste of my time and energy) to avert the incoming barrage of BULLCRAP that's practically been asked for, but OMG shut up; when the time comes and the sky starts pouring shit just STFU! I H8 THIS.

I'm listening to: Simply Red - Stars

2010-01-09T22:27:00.171+08:00

Because I'm in such a frivolous mood, thanks to the magic of endorphins, I'm not going to mind sounding like a complete airhead in this post. I'll talk about my ideal boyfriend (MIBF). We'll work from the outside in.

Vibe/Aura
This is a picture of Gaspard Ulliel of Hannibal Rising/Paris Je t'Aime/etc. fame. I don't expect to ever know anyone with his drop-dead gorgeous boyish good looks, but MIBF should possess the same subtle(?) bookish vibe in combination with an aura of cool - not biker/rocker cool but collected+intelligent+witty cool.

Physique
MIBF should be tall (at the very least 175cm) and muscular but not bulky. I like broad shoulders and a healthy tan, and would very much like him to do at least one kind of exercise/sport regularly. He dresses simply but looks good anyway =)

Face/Hair
Chiselled bone structure, high cheekbones, buttchin, expressive eyes and nice smile! NO FACIAL HAIR. Again with reference to lovely Gaspard Ulliel, I have a thing for dark-coloured plastic/acrylic glasses, which should be paired with a basic haircut. (On a separate note, I think glasses like that are great but only with complementary facial features. Some people just look better without them.)

Preferences/Hobbies
MIBF appreciates nature and likes taking long walks while admiring scenery. He should play at least one kind of video/computer game without going into excess, in addition to exercise/sports as abovementioned. He plays a musical instrument like the guitar or something, and is very into cool music - alternative, indie++ at least. For his intellectual pursuits, he would be happy spending the day with a good book and coffee, but also enjoys the occasional party. He likes a wide variety of good food and will happily(?) eat what I cook.

Personality
Humourously witty, MIBF will be able to keep me laughing. He enjoys intelligent philosophical discussions with me and is honest with his thoughts and feelings while also broad-minded. He is patient, dependable, sensitive to how other people feel and generally friendly and soft-hearted without being a pushover. MIBF has strong values and understands the importance of harmony and compromise. With an independent, adventurous spirit and enthusiasm for novel experiences, he is spontaneous and fun-loving. Preferably of the same religion, but no big matter. He is romantic but not cheesy and against OTT PDA but still a warm and fuzzy person.

Besides a strong connection and MIBF liking me too, putting it simply would be that he probably doesn't exist (or at least right now to me, I think), even give or take a few things. So much for MIBF! =(

We'll take tomorrow, baby, yeah
One day at a time.

I'm listening to: Goo Goo Dolls - Name

2010-01-08T03:41:00.000+08:00

It's amazing and honestly quite frightening how some of the most important things in our lives find their origin in the most trivial actions and decisions on our part, while lacking at the time a lucid awareness of their immense consequences. Just a little tweak to the conditions incubating these twists of fate and the subsequent repercussions could be unthinkable, both despite and in view of the fact that they are sometimes so intricately interlinked. Is it luck or a wired in narrow-mindedness?

There is sometimes a gaping chasm between the physical and metaphysical, which makes a connection with this time and place but an illusion. The question regarding the beginnings of the Self and its existence is something I cannot imagine there is a concrete answer to. I believe its metaphysical component is kept chained up like a dog for most people, while others wander aimlessly in that completely different dimension, and yet others who've found the answer and enjoy(/suffer from?) the vision it bestows upon them... do what?

Debonair conundrum,
I won't tell your name.

I'm listening to: The Raveonettes - The Christmas Song

2010-01-01T20:19:00.005+08:00

Don't, don't you want me?
You know I don't believe you
When you say you don't need me

It's much too late to find
When you think you've changed your mind
You'd better change it back or we will both be sorry

Don't you want me, baby?

Let's dance in style, let's dance for awhile
Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies
Hoping for the best but expecting the worst
Are you going to drop the bomb or not?

So many adventures couldn't happen today
So many songs we forgot to play
So many dreams are swinging out of the blue
We let them come true

My boyfriend's back and you're gonna be in trouble
Hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back
If you see him come, better cut out on the double
Hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back

He's been gone for such a long time
Hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back
Now he's back and things will be fine
Hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back
You're gonna be sorry you were ever born
Hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back

Is everything a baited hook?
And are there locks on all doors?
If you're looking for an open book
Look no further, I am yours

You're an exception to the rule
You're a bonafide rarity
You're all I ever wanted
Southern girl, could you want me?

Get straight, wait here while I try to find the exit sign
When we stop asking strangers, no one wants what we want

There a place that ends here I know
When they close the gates I'll cry
I'm so tired of never sleeping
The whole world wants what we're on

Got to get out
Got to get to you, the orphanage is closing in an hour

Bottles breaking on my face are
Only a reminder of your
Love I lost a lifetime ago
Was I dreaming when I knew you?
I don't know

So once again I swim in reverie, without your love
So long ago I can't remember now where we began

Hey yeah, we had everything
Vinyl in mono
And we looked the other way
Man, we were so dumb
Is this the part in the book that you wrote
Where I've gotta come and save the day?

Three chords in your pocket tonight
Are you, you the one with the spark to bring my punk rock back?
I don't think so

Blow out all of the lights tonight

And then it happened
It took me by surprise
I knew that you felt it too
By the look in your eyes

This magic moment
While your lips are close to mine
Will last forever
Forever till the end of time

Outside, inside
This is a moon without a tide
We'll build a fire in your eyes
We'll build a fire when the color's getting brighter
Cold desire, makes a moon without a tide

I tremble
They're gonna eat me alive
If I stumble
They're gonna eat me alive

Can your hear my heart beating like a hammer?

I wanna see your thoughts take shape and walk right out

The songs are in your eyes
I see them when you smile
I've seen enough, I'm not giving up
On a miracle drug

Of science and the human heart, there is no limit

Love makes no sense of space and time will disappear
Love and logic keep us clear

The summer days are gone too soon
You shoot the moon, and miss completely

Will you think of times you told me
You knew the reason
Why we had to each be lonely
Was it just the season?

All the lights are coming on now
How I wish that it would snow now
I don't feel like going home now
I wish that I could stay

I'm listening to: Weezer - Island in the Sun

2009-12-31T00:51:00.002+08:00

Something I came across today was this book called Time and the Soul. It's actually a heavily disguised 'self-help book', and I say 'self-help' because I think anything philosophically stimulating is helpful to the self, and this one is particularly pertinent. I only got to finish the first section of it, but there're a couple of ideas which really struck me.

The idea of the human mind/life as the site of conciliation between the eternal and the temporal, infinite and finite, etc., as well as the existence of an unchanging essential form in any person. Of course it'll take quite a bit of substantiation to do this any reasonable amount of justice, but that's what the book is for. You can see how these two go hand in hand. Worldly events governed by superficial measures of time and their transience are often juxtaposed against this unchanging fundamental form, and recognition and acceptance of the latter will provide colossal empowerment to the individual who realises he/she is no longer bound by commonly conceived notions of time. It's definitely not easy to chew on, and I'd be shocked if anyone buys the idea simply from reading what I've said.

Today was incredibly special. Just prior to reading Time and the Soul I'd experienced something that could validate the author's claims in a very personal way. A potent combination of the right people at the right place at the right time transported me back more than three years to revisit a bygone period in my life. The feelings which heralded our arrival back in the past were unmistakably familiar, yet accompanied with surprise at the vibrancy of the moment, pulsating with a life of its own that psychological memory will always fall short of capturing. It wasn't just a shadow of the past. To put it succinctly, such experiences are old but always new; a seeming paradox. Yet it takes as little effort as the shifting of perception to view it from another angle, to see that it can be perfectly congruent. For example, a vintage item you pick up at the flea market is both old and new at the same time if you'll go beyond the physical age of the object alone to also take into account your own experience of it. It's a very rough analogy but I'm hoping just to illustrate how such a paradox is built on mere shortsightedness.

Similarly, this might appear to fly in the face of my agreement with the guy and his famous quote about never stepping into the same river twice. Of course, the river is everchanging, yet its essential river-ness will always remain. So to determine if it is still the same or not, it's just a matter of perspective with regard to the meanings we give to the terms "same" and "different". With the truth being a combination, neither and both are correct or wrong to varying degrees. There isn't an absolute answer.

Time's passage doesn't always go by the clock, in the sense that it sometimes seems to fly or crawl by at completely different rates, and one has to wonder if it can be objectively measured out at all. The illusion of being able to do so is perhaps a result of neglecting the subjectivity of the human experience, though apparently vital to everyday life. I think it's important to understand that's all it really is.

Too early to say goodnight

My Bucket List

2009-12-29T15:04:00.008+08:00

Experience all four seasons

Write something beautiful

Discover true love

Grow my own flowers

Make and keep lifelong friends

Visit the different continents

Stay up all night stargazing till sunrise

~~Find a term for the nostalgia-deja vu-nausea-?? complex~~

Go on a road trip/backpacking

Feel utterly stunning HAHA

Learn to cycle

Save someone's life

Straddle the line between two realities

Design/furnish the interior of my own home

Make a stranger's day

Hug someone who really needs it

Come to terms with the mysteries of life and death

Tour Europe

Dance in the rain

Find something which never fails to make me smile

Get an Honours degree

Taste food from all over the world

Visit great art museums like the Louvre

Take a ride to nowhere

Discover my life's purpose

Find my signature scent

Feel completely at peace with the world

~~Experience a distortion of time~~

Allow my parents to settle down comfortably

Learn to accept people for who they are and aren't

See the northern lights

Get married and have kids

~~Tell people I love them~~

Work with job satisfaction

Learn to salsa/other latin dances

Donate blood

Wake up on the beach

Bungee jump/skydive

Learn a foreign language

Find someone to check off bucket lists with

I'm listening to: Iron and Wine - Such Great Heights

2009-12-29T04:35:00.003+08:00

I just saw The Bucket List on tv. I think if I had to die soon, I could go quite peacefully. I haven't lived long enough to do all the things I'd like to, but I think I'm keeping good time. I don't believe life is as simple or as complex as people make it out to be; probably somewhere between the two extremes or just a matter of perspective. For that reason, coming to terms with oneself and one's life shouldn't be anything like ramming your head against a brick wall.

I've encountered existential ennui before without realising it. I went to find out a bit more about Lost in Translation, came across this term, and did a spot of research. It's liberating to finally find a name for a feeling I couldn't quite fit in a box - in two words. The entire holiday/break has been a more tangible manifestation or demonstration of this concept in many ways, which accounts for how tired I am of it. I haven't exactly been sitting around at home much and rotting like that, to have been thinking and feeling this way. It's the way in which things have been glinting with their multi-faceted surfaces and projecting their nuances and complexities in loud displays that are just impossible to ignore. And then you realise you've got work to do. You turn down the amps where you can and chuck the rest.

I'll come up with my own list soon =)

I'm listening to: Absinthe Glow - Contradictions

2009-12-23T03:25:00.005+08:00

I don't feel like going to sleep yet. It isn't like the day's been great, much less exceptionally so, that I want to prolong it. It's just that I don't feel ready and willing to put conscious experience on hold right now. It sounds so ridiculous, but with so many things happening amidst constant change, I'm more than ever before painfully aware of the ravages of time and I need to take a moment to indulge myself in the illusion of standing outside of all of this mayhem, to entertain the thought of evading the inevitable.

The dead of the night virtually offers us the world in a still-life portrait; a window to temporarily cast aside all practical concerns and immerse the self in microcosmic eternities where second after second melt into each other and seem to run circular against the faded demarcations of the impersonal passing of time.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do or even how long I have to make up my mind, but I'm determined not to think about it at least for the rest of the night. Compartmentalizing our lives like that might be the only way to keep many of us remotely sane, but it's really quite odd considering it defies unity of existence. Possibly it takes place on a superficial level to offer just enough contrast to emphasize the latter instead, which I think is more deeply vital.

I'm quite bothered by the limits of consciousness in comparison with the territory of the subconscious/unconscious, with the idea that there are parts of my identity and knowledge chained to some undiscoverable crevasse of the mind and held completely off limits. At the same time, it's a relief because their emergence may hail the annihilation of everything held dear and in precarious balance with all the other odds and ends in messy reality. There isn't really much to complain about, I guess.

There're so many things I want to but have yet to do, and I've the rest of my life for that. But it's got to start somewhere. I'm craving human experience in its immaculate fullness - something I'm far from attaining at least as of now. Frankly, I have no idea what the missing elements are.

Oh when I look back now,
The summer seemed to last forever.

Oh and when you held my hand,
I knew that it was now or never.

I'm listening to: Our Lady Peace - Somewhere Out There

2009-12-21T02:33:00.002+08:00

I wish you didn't have to leave so soon. I miss you so much my heart aches. I'm still expecting you to appear at the door, or to be sitting around at home.

I don't know where you've gone, or if you've simply ceased to exist in the most technical sense of the word. I hope the former is true, so I might get to see you again. All who are born die. It's an axiomatic fact of existence yet it hardly offers any comfort. It doesn't even begin to account for why some have more time than others.

The short time you've been here, I hope you enjoyed yourself. Though I've shown very often, I've never said it directly to you and you probably wouldn't have understood, but you know anyway that I've always loved you very much; we all did. I can never again have the comfort of your companionship but I won't ever forget how much it meant to me. I regret not having the opportunity to bid you one last farewell, although circumstances weren't in my favour to do so.

You've gone, one step ahead of me, into the great unknown. From where I'm left behind, you've opened a window for me to understand it from a different perspective. I've learnt that it isn't as gothically horrific as I'd previously imagined. You turn its mystery into something beautiful, where the sadness finds its source in the premature ability to comprehend all of this.

I'm still writing about you now, and it means the essence of your being is forever immortalized in the hearts and minds of those who loved you, as well as in writing. Your life is a thread in the greater fabric of the universe, like how its end is part of a greater scheme. It's something I may never come to fully understand but will always believe in. I can't say it wasn't a terrible shock, but things fell in place pretty neatly following the terrible accident, and that I'm grateful for.

I will never forget you. Thank you for having been in my life.

Goodnight and goodbye, my dear.

Charity and gratitude
They run to the pines
It's black in here, blot out the sun
And run to the pines
Our misery runs wild and free
And I knew, the fire and the ashes of his grace

I'm listening to: The Temptations - My Girl

2009-12-16T01:52:00.002+08:00

Your eyes emanate such a hypnotic lustre. Beneath that, they're unfathomable, like bottomless wells. Not anymore. I knew I would one day unlock their secret. Of epochs past, spent in vain trying to unravel the hieroglyphic messages you left behind, I'd come to realise the answer lay not in them but in the macrocosm of their little worlds intertwined. You love me, and you were afraid of how vulnerable it made you.

My dear, I will stab you in the heart again and again, because your love always heals it over for me. I will indulge your deepest fears. You will weaken but never die, and that's the way I plan to keep you, while constantly hoping you'll never realise how much worse you could hurt me. You could barely stand on your own, and sweetheart, I like it almost as much as I love you.

The blood that courses through our veins has turned from a crisp crimson to the colour of the night sky, and it's a deliciously decadent feeling. Yet, it's starting to sicken me. You've become a pathetic mess. Just one careless slip obliterated forever your former charm, individualism and mystery; you might as well be a faceless mass of gore. I'm sorry for being so clumsy.

Fate delivers its terrible verdict: we're dead, and so we've been for an awfully long time.

We'll say goodbye without words. We're more than that. You taught me how love and hate are separated by only a thread. Your eyes, once onyx, have glazed over with a blossoming of hazel flecks. For feeding off each other's souls, we're monstrosities reared on human flesh, and we're mirror images too.

But at least we now know what'd been inside Pandora's Box.

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day.
When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May.

Well, I guess you'll say, what can make me feel this way?
My girl, talkin' 'bout my girl.

I'm listening to: Alanis Morissette - One Hand in My Pocket

2009-12-15T11:51:00.004+08:00

The events that transpired four years and three months ago have come back after a long hibernation to haunt with a vengeance. Exactly the third time I've tempted fate in an attempt to reshape the associations made with such an activity in such a setting and such things leading up to it, I'd already, as always before, scripted and simulated the breakdown over and over again. I think it helps a little. The first time fate finally caves in (could it be expected to hold its own indefinitely?), at least I get to relive the melodramatic horror in the comfort of my own home. Big consolation.

I can't say it caught me by surprise, but I can say that this reconstruction is a mere shadow of the grotesque monolith it found its origin in. Did my efforts, then, pay off? I think they generally did, but I honestly wish I didn't have to find out like this, or at all. It really hits home.