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and I don't know where to go, I don't know what to do Beginning to think home is a construct. It's not that a certain house- your home- contains your heart, it's that a place or a house where you think you belong, that's home. I used to joke when I didn't bring AEP work to school- Home is where the 'art is. Trying for a research assistant job at NIE. Ambivalent about birthday. Doesn't seem of much importance- there's no daily grind for it to interrupt any more. I suspect it will depress me. Nine comes out on the eighteenth- who's coming? And absence makes the heart grow cold, no matter what they say, especially when the one you want is half the world away. I don't know where to go, I don't know what to do, I don't know where to go, I said I don't know what to do, someone tell me how I get back home to you. For some reason Beta Male Fairytales is more depressing than I remember it being. I took my mom to Polymath and Crust today and bought Jean Tay's Boom. Which, conversely, is every bit as brilliant as I remember it.
and you come crash into me.
FRIDAY NIGHT I PULL INTO THE STATION
This is a banal post. So tonight, in a way that is very nearly (like I said) bipolar, but I'm in a really good mood. I'm done with my shit job, apps are in. Jun got my portfolio in. Am crafting an elaborate To-Do list- incidentally I realise I didn't do my traditional New Year's post, but I was busy. A train of thought which makes me happy. I've done a lot of a drawing I've been stuck on for ages today. I've learnt to tie a bowtie. I'm mad that Hannah's mom says I'm 'not needed', but gah. At least I can meet my drama class tomorrow. But I think I just am better when I get out of the house. Anyway, now salad nicoise and ice cream for dinner, AND I just found the whole first three seasons of Scrubs.
and you come crash into me.
I just can't laugh is all I know I'm really down this evening. Tonight. I don't know why. I think perhaps I'd be difficult to live with, because there is something distinctly manic-depressive about me. I'm supposed to be done with all this crap. I'm worried my UCAS might have been late. I hate my job, but the money's okay- or it would be if tomorrow weren't my last day. There's a mark on Jun's shirt- I'll have to bleach it tomorrow. My Ann Arbor app is still a mess. Even assuming I manage to convince mother, I don't know where I'll find the money to go overseas in March. And as always on nights like this, the only people online are girls I don't trust and boys I used to like. I think I'll go to sleep. I don't know. But when I wake up I still have reports to write. In some ways I almost would rather be in school. A la Motion City, the future freaks me out.
and you come crash into me.
turnabout is fair ugh.
So this is a curious thing. Instead of waking up trying to avoid being barfed on my small cat I just had to spring out of bed and into the bathroom to avoid ME throwing up on small cat, who was sleeping in my arms as I coughed until my dinner reappeared. Yes. Yes I will see someone about this cough. Yes okay.
and you come crash into me.
time, always time, on my mind.
(I apologise in advance for the strange tone of this post. I'm re-reading the Rachel Papers.) So today I went for my (by this stage) annual check-up. It was at 1430 and at about 1245 mother comes in and demands, are you getting ready to go to the doctor's? And I said, well, I will soon, but I gotta finish writing this first. Because I assumed I would be going WITH her to the doctor. Not in the sense that I am spoilt and expect a lift as a matter of course but mother has always gone to these checks with me. Onco check-ups are still scary. So when at 1340 she pokes her head and barks, if you come now I can drop you off I was a bit taken aback. So I sat in the waiting room by myself, got hot chocolate from the machine (which is incredibly good I make it a point to always have a cup), paid by myself (fastest 78 dollars I'd ever spent), didn't lose the appointment card and assured Prof. Tan I would send my mother his regards. The checkups invariably make me feel lost and a little sad, even accompanied, so this was miserable. Oh, then I walk out the door of the clinic, I'm standing outside the lobby of Raffles Hospital thinking, Meh, where do I go now, I've nothing to do, really, and If this were yesteday I'd know pretty well where I'd be headed, and then this squat man walks by me wearing Cool Water and I very nearly killed him. But I'm okay. I walked all the way from Red Hill (where I had only a slight twinge) to my Godma's, listening to Older Chests. Given that Damien Rice coupled with any sort of vague emotional vulnerability equals, for me, a sharp and disconsolate depression, and that I did not have some kind of breakdown on the pavement proves, more or less, that I am okay. This, however, is not okay. Or equal parts surreal, cute and Not Okay: walking literally past Jun's block, with my earphones in, I am hailed by a tiny Indian boy on a tiny bicycle, who, by the time I wrench an earphone out, is saying '.....you know Auntie first I don't know how to ride the bi-ceel, but then my father showed me and look see if you go like this'-- at which point he sort of pedals off at an angle, looking back at me-- 'Auntie see you can go forward go forward okay bye Auntie bye!' I clapped a little as he went and may have made some congratulatory interjections, but oh my god, he called me Auntie.
and you come crash into me.
Fioooooona, "Please don't sit [on the back of the chair] like that. One day you will fall and crack your head open and funerals are expensive." -the Lady Mother Life's been okay. Got no GP gig anymore, but have picked up some here-and-there employment. Money going out at a ferocious rate, mostly I think because I'm running around to spend time with
and you come crash into me.
This film was so sad I couldn't finish it. Twice.
Kristy: And, how old were you when you met?
and you come crash into me.
convivendo.
In questa mattina grigia
In questa casa che ora e' veramente solo mia,
and you come crash into me.
Plus-Minus-Italy.
and you come crash into me.
i told you your dreams would come true.
So this is what the Lady Mother and I did today. I think it says something important that my first response to snow was 'HUGE SNOWBALL FIGHT', and my mother wanted to build a snowman. After my war proposal was rejected I suggested a giant snow elephant, a snow city or at least a snow swimsuit model. But no. It's traditional. Snowman it was. And a pretty fantastic snowman at that.
We're driving to Bologna to see Gabriella tomorrow. Assuming the car starts. Gearbox was frozen this morning- it was -16 degrees last night. -10 right now. Bed. Mother is grouchy with me today.
and you come crash into me.
l'autostrada, da qui, è l'unica certezza che ho.
This is where I live. It's cold, now, except for an hour or two in the morning where the sun appears to be strongest. In the afternoon the sun sets in about ten minutes- you see it going down, largely because there's no building higher than four storeys for miles around. For now there's nothing on the trees, except persimmons on the persimmon trees, which are incredibly startling and beautiful against the blue sky. It's a crisp cold, so the sky is clear most of the day. Apparently we're in for some snow, though. But not yet, so at night you can see Orion and if you recognise any other winter constellations I'm sure you could make them out too. That's now far we are from city lights. You don't get that orange mist glow in the sky that blocks out starlight. The grass is still very green, but most of the farm fields have been tilled. Seagulls muck about in the fresh soil, though we're over thirty kilometres from Grado and the sea. I'm not sure why I love this place so much. I'm such a city girl. Maybe it's associations, or conditioning, but I'm happy here. I get out of bed and see the Alps out my window and I go to sleep in utter silence- in summer you get insect sounds all night. It's uncomfortably cold, and I don't speak Italian as well as I used to, and I don't have friends here, just family. But in spite of all that there is a part of me that intrinsically is tied here. To this tiny, distant place, this four-street town where having no internet is not exactly unusual. When I am not here I miss it. And this is a strange thing I cannot explain for the life of me.
and you come crash into me.
I love this review. I give it five stars.
Like any woman who doesn't like the Corrs, I am suspicious of my own hostility. Do I not like the Corrs because they are the dernier cri in insipid and inoffensive, and you can't tell one song from the next? Because they are drab middle age in musical form? Because they are one breezy harmony away from Death by Bland? Or do I actually just not like the Corrs because they are prettier than me? Do I not like 'What Can I Do to Make You Love Me?' because it's a cloying bit of sickliness recorded with one end in mind: to be described as (involuntary shudder of distaste) 'lilting'? Or do I not like it because of the way Andrea minxes through the video, flicking stray wind-blown strands of hair away from the gloss on her luscious lips, and endlessly repeating the refrain, when, come on, was anyone ever better equipped to know precisely how to make people fall mindlessly in love with them? In short, do I not like the Corrs, or am I screamingly jealous of the Corrs? The rest of it is more reviewly and normal. I've always been a bit suspicious of the Corrs. Also, tomorrow: Lau Pa Sat, 1200-1630 and 2030-2130. Tuesday 1130-1430.
and you come crash into me.
Annie waits for the last time So this morning I dreamt I got my SAT results back, and they were bad. I was caught in this little loopdream where I each time I got the results they were worse than the previous time. We started with like 600 and just went down each round. By the time I woke up (in a foul mood) we were down to 320 for literature. I was ready to kill something.
and you come crash into me.
where do we go from here?
So my godma is really, really sick. She used to laugh. You'd think she was asleep, but someone one would make a joke and especially if it was dirty she'd start laughing and laughing with all of us. Now she just sits there. I think she can see, but she can't control where her eyes go. I know she hears us when we talk to her. I used to go, oh, if you want to sit up raise your left hand, if you want to lie down lift your right. That regressed to lift your hand if you want to sit up. And now we just wait to see if a finger so much as moves, which takes about twenty seconds. Mostly we're just making decisions for her. And if I could it would be to Saint Jude,
and you come crash into me.
gasolina.
So prom was okay, the company was nice, but we could really just have gone out anywhere. It didn't need to be all so dolled up. It was really just an excuse for most people I think to show off- so many people in bad taste. Although looking at photos on facebook, AC, we are quite stylish on the sliding scale. Man. I think I had a lot more to say, but I've been prevented from blogging by my Hectic Social Schedule. The next bit isn't meant be read- this is a selfish blogpost for my sake, for posterity. I'm not sure post-prom was an entirely enjoyable experience, but it was certainly an experience. Was of two minds most of the time, despite the drinks. Like an odd musing tone inside my own head. I kept thinking of Bones when she goes clubbing with Angela- it really is... tribal. Surrendering self to the group. It's more than a little frightening. Easy to get reckless. People you thought you knew you no longer know, and absolute strangers are very close by. Finally I've been cleaning my room out- cupboards and clothes and papers. I have twenty-three AC shirts, not counting the one Farfalla lost last year. My life in this school is essentially measured in cotton- some of these I've worn maybe once or twice, and am unlikely to ever wear again, and I'm keeping them, and I don't really know why. Throwing out some of the scruffier blacks in utter practicality- there's just no space. Oh AC. Sigh.
and you come crash into me.
You've got me high.
She's got you high and you don't even know yet
Pronouns aren't quite right.
and you come crash into me.
final thoughts and the last day on earth.
Uh. Wow.
and you come crash into me.
i'm just a summer girl.
How do you calculate a departure? Not by the hours or minutes but a moment. An instant when the decision was made. To leave. - These Children Are Dead Not true. Which is why baccalaureate didn't bother me. Was still going to be seeing these people around. Leaving is gradual. Every day there are fewer people in school. Slowly starting to miss this place even though I am still here. I never felt this way leaving Dunman- I miss the general school population, people I just see around. The blue shadows of the window panes in the corridor. The stairs to the design and the top floor of the CPA. It's been great, AC. And people think missing a deadline is the end of the world. I've belonged here. Sure the worst is yet to come, but the best is yet to be.
and you come crash into me.
i refuse to play on with the hand that they have given me.
Note: I thought about putting this on LJ and friendslocking it, but I decided against. Instead I'm just going to adopt a musing tone and hope no-one thinks I've lost my mind. So today I did... an experiment. I was thinking about this QC strip, and all those uh 'sketchy' pictures girls take and put on the net. Like you know sometimes you get those pop-ups and it's a whole list of thumbnails saying 20/F, Paya Lebar, Singapore! I realise that mostly these are not real people's profiles. But the pictures've got to come from somewhere. And like Marigold somehow realises there's a curious kick to it, though you end up hating yourself after a while if you get at all cerebral about it. So last night I took a few photos on the webcam which are, well. Not entirely safe for work. And they look... good. I look good. So it's a weird feeling- in one way it's a boost of esteem or something, but it's completely undercut by the fact that you look like a camgirl. Actually that camgirl thing is curious. It reminds of an article I read some time back, about this girl who got into burlesque dancing 'cause she wanted some kind of rebellion or liberation. And left, eventually, because she realised it wasn't giving her any new power as a woman, just 'a celebration of the limited, socially circumscribed forms of power that are permitted to us'. And a BBC interview about powerful courtesans, I've forgotten all their names, and this question of who is using whom. Looking at these pictures I think girls feel better because they think, I did this deliberately, I am in control, I am using him and he is not using me. Which is a comforting, but completely delusional thought.
- Laurie Penny, in perhaps the best article I've ever read.
and you come crash into me.
HAMMER OF GOD SEES MANY NAILS!
So CMC was fantastic. Apparently some people thought it was too long, or boring, or whatever, but I was really into it. Ken spoke brilliantly, like he was on the platform upstage and he's still as loud as Bryant in the front. Worth all the yelling at him, I love that kid. Actually Thara's text was also impeccable. The staging excellent, and very clever. Committed performances all around. I thoroughly enjoyed it. And Pris, particularly at the start, was just beautiful. Asdfghjhgfdsa miss ACSian Theatre. Also I am very ill. I have a megaflu. My mom and I both got it, but she is fine and I am achey and sneezing and fevering, which I think is highly unfair. Dropping tissues everywhere. So I have been lying in bed reading A Clockwork Orange for a while now, struggling to stay awake. OOOOHH and ALSO, backtrack a little to CMC, Ian Yang STOOD ME UP :/ Pffft.
and you come crash into me.
i'm just one of those late model children This is what I want: a workroom. A big flat table, with a ruler stuck on it. A sewing machine I can leave out at all times. A smooth chalkboard at a practical height. A mirror. And space. Flat surface space. Lots of it.
But there ain't no sign of Elvis in San Fransisco: EDIT: AND FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, A SEWING MACHINE THAT DOESN'T DIE THE INSTANT I LAY HANDS ON IT, PLEASE!
and you come crash into me.
you're having the time of my life.
Okay, I'm not sure why everyone is so surprised at Adam Lambert. The man talks like a bimbo. 'I'm not a member of a genre, I'm Adam'. I have seen his ET interview like four times and his comments about being gay are actually the only rational things he says. That wasn't really what I wanted to blog about, but I've forgotten. I am really into Matt Nathanson right now. He is just lovely.
and you come crash into me.
林翊姗?
Went to grandparents' house today for lunch. Ended up helping my mom clean the kitchen, which is why I got back later than I meant to. Essentially an hour scrubbing and bleaching counters in the futile hope that maybe one day ye ye will love me as much as my A scoring, non-drama studying, Chinese-schooled cousins who somehow got the generation name I wasn't given. And are frankly blander than mashed potato. Gah. The Lady Mother says not to worry, because it doesn't matter what I achieve in life- unless I become a lawyer, or a doctor, or an engineer, my grandmother will never think I've amounted to anything. You should see her derision at my drama alevel. There I go again. These Westerners. No understanding of filial piety.
and you come crash into me.
the fog of what is right won't get to us.
So today I was in school, meant to leave at six, I'm periodically checking the clock on my desktop, it's approaching six, and I think, hey why's it so DARK. And then I realised I am looking at the clock labelled 'Boston' and it's actually nearly seven where I am, which is NOT on the Eastern Seaboard. Then got dragged to Ion to shop for winter clothes. I hate shopping, I hate crowds, and now I hate Ion. The whole thing was hateful. And today I think I look awful. I've put on all this weight. Skin's dreadful. I'd like to go to sleep and then just skip ahead to when Clark or someone accepts my application. And then I put my jacket on upside down (with the hood hanging down my back). And then I inexplicably told the cashier in Zara, 'I think you're really pretty!', which she was, but oh my God, what's wrong with me. ...Yeah having a bit of a crisis today.
and you come crash into me.
boggis bounce and bean, Spontaneously went to watch Fantastic Mr. Fox with Div and my parents today. It's really good and the animation is very beautiful with all these great wide angle shots. Mr Fox reminds me of you, Jun. Particularly when he does his whistle thing. Okay, sleep, NOW, when the hell did it become 0200?!
and you come crash into me.
close enough to fall out of focus.
And they say that you'll die, faster than without water WYSIWYG, right?
and you come crash into me.
and so misunderstood.
This is the woman whose 'sonnet' we got yesterday for lit. I like this one better. Skipping Rhyme for Graduates
I’ve got the motive. I’ve got the stamina. I’m going to kill The external examiner. Let crows and vultures Pick at the carcass After I’ve murdered The stingiest of markers. Bring out the bin-bags, Bring out the spades. Bring down the evil sod Who brings down the grades. Give me an alibi. Give me a gun. Wanted a first But I got a two-one. Just missed a first by a fragment of a fraction. Justice is called for, Justice and action. What a bloody miser! What a bloody crook! Won’t mark another paper. Won’t write another book. Won’t see his bloody name In another bloody journal. Bye-bye, examiner. Bye-bye, external.
and you come crash into me.
no big difference, these days I feel like a huge disappointment, today. All the smart talk, all the discussion, all the opinions. Didn't get me anywhere. I mean I know there's still paper four, but. I don't know what to do right now. I feel dreadful. I'm such a let down.
and you come crash into me.
bit of an epiphany.
Bystander Effect- though a patchy website, an accessible definition. I am never going to be the bystander. I will always stand up. I would rather be hurt or sued than know I did not do all in my power to help. (This does not preclude rational behaviour, Eleanor, 'after all, acting fast does not necessitate acting recklessly'.) This is what is wrong with our society.
and you come crash into me.
Amy hit the atmosphere, and she's never coming back I fear.
All I wanna know, I wanna know, and all I really know is I don't wanna know, all I wanna know, I wanna know and all I really know is I don't wanna know, and all I wanna know, I wanna know, and all I really know is I don't wanna know, all I wanna know, I wanna know and all I really know is I don't wanna know, I wanna know and all I really know is I don't wanna know, and all I wanna know, I wanna know, and all I really know is I don't wanna know, all I wanna know, I wanna know and all I really know is I don't wanna know, and all I wanna know, I wanna know, and all I really know is I don't wanna know, all I wanna know, I wanna know and all I really know is I don't wanna know.
and you come crash into me.
mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios.
Never want to have to repeat today. Including but not limited to getting up. Or cleaning another bathroom floor when my father is drunker than any girlfriend I've ever had to bail out.
and you come crash into me.
just, like the television says, So I've been thinking about why I dislike (understatement) being referred to as 'angmoh', particularly by people I don't know. As much as I try not to care what other people think about me, I hate being thought of as an outsider race-wise. People have asked why I find it insulting because it's not TECHNICALLY offensive, but. To me it's insulting because when it's used on me people are assuming I don't know what it means, because they think I'm an outsider. It's insulting to be considered an outsider, worse so when it's because of how I look. Especially when there are so many people I know, that are immediately considered more 'Singaporean' than I, who feel no sense of belonging here, who don't feel it's important to speak Chinese, and whose reaction to the things that are wrong with this country is that they should leave rather than try to fix them. I realise that if I just made clear at the start that I DO speak Chinese and AM local I would save myself a lot of upsetting occurences. I'm not sure why I don't. Possibly as alan once put it I am addicted to the melodrama, and that might have been true once. (Although I do kind of enjoy the reveal- the one-uppance of getting back at someone who's said something bad. Priceless look on the face, that.) But I always hold out to be surprised. I don't think I should have to PROVE that I belong here, because I do. I.. I have belonging issues. I feel torn between my various influences, my extremely secular (in a more than religious sense) upbringing, my sense of Western entitlement and that kitschy post-colonial Asian horror that I secretly want to be. But if I belong somewhere, it's here. There's no shaking that. There's things I believe in that are just.. taken for granted here, that are completely foreign in the UK, or even in Italy. I could never belong somewhere where one language is the norm, for a start. You know how hung up I am on language. There's no punchline. I think I am just... wanting acceptance. Insecurity's last frontier! To which, disappointingly, I feel somewhat entitled in spite of myself: try getting beat up. Gives you a bit of a chip.
and you come crash into me.
it's not about geography or happenstance.
I've always been sceptical of Lord of the Flies- I think it is a stupid, superficial book that has been trumped up as a model of society. No society works like that. There is always someone who says no. I am revising this, because Golding's premise was a group of adolescent boys, led by either the charmer or the rebel. And only in a colony of boys would there be no-one to say no- not just disapprove and apologise later, but speak up in time, because you immediately know what is happening is unjust. To actively, actively intervene and say no, this is wrong, I forbid you to do it.
and you come crash into me.
a public service announcement followed me home the other day.
WE INTERRUPT THE MUGGING TO TELL YOU, AMERICAN APPAREL, THAT SOMETIMES I THINK I'M OVER YOU, BUT THEN YOU SHOW ME SOMETHING LIKE THIS AND I'M YOURS ALL OVER AGAIN. sasdfghjkl;lhgf I want. Also, Michael, happy birthday. Your profile picture is suddenly legal and unscandalous. Love!
and you come crash into me.
no new thing under the sun, TIFF______ Have you ever thought what it would be like to just roll around school?
and you come crash into me.
it has to be said- Anyway so today was NOT as productive as yesterday, but not bad la I guess. Beginning to panic, a little, which is reflected in my complete insanity past, oh, three o'clock? I think we're all trying to hold each other together. It's quite nice, all the (increasingly predictable) people who're still in the hub/void deck after six thirty, I'm somewhat belatedly getting to know people I never thought I'd be friends with. Mr Fong was right, I suppose, about this time of the year- of our second year. I'm looking forward to next year. To working, to sleeping, to Kira's wedding, to CAP'10 (because I will be there)-- so much so that I'm beginning to trip over this current (huge freaking monster) hurdle. Which is bad. I need to FOCUSZ. Oh and for people I didn't inform, SATs went well, 800+670+770=2240, and of course the lowest is for maths. Hah. Highest was crit reading. Taking IIs on the fifth of December: bio, lit, Italian. Finally I am completely addicted to Radio6 on iBBC. And Chris Hawkins read out my email which makes him officially my favourite DJ ever, yes I am shallow like that. And they play Regina Spektor and Kasabian at least once a day, which I like; they play Vampire Weekend entirely too often, which I am ambivalent about; and they play Deathcab's (rubbish) new single every day, which annoys me. BUT ANYWAY. Okay, to bed. It was remarkably nice to talk to you today. For like the first five minute anyway. Arrogant bastard, you. ...Come home soon.
and you come crash into me.
all that I dreamt had been untrue.
Hey A-levels: okay, I feel defeated.
and you come crash into me.
Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.
This is an odd thought, but I am glad we are not at war. Because you would go and bloody fight it, wouldn't you. (I'm watching Gone With the Wind.) Edit: it was a terrible film. It's set in a period of time I hate, Scarlett is unpleasant and girly and useless, except for her brief money-making phase during the Reconstruction, where she is unpleasant, dishonest and mercenary. Too much screaming and sobbing and hysteria. The only nice people are Melanie and Mammy. Everyone else is either spoilt or nasty or just useless. It's also a Naturalist's nightmare. All this heightened, overdramatised crap. What a disappointment.
and you come crash into me.
the only progression is entropy.
Some revelations: 1- I hate, hate, hate post-colonial literature of all kinds. 2- I like sleep, but I don't know why I never do it. 3- I miss running and stuff. 4- I really want to get my driving licence. 5- I like driving. 6- My a-levels are really, really soon. Oh my god, I'm running out of time. Also. I'm reading poetry sometime between 1330 and 1430 tomorrow (Sunday) at the Arts House. Please call me/come down. It'll be
and you come crash into me.
he doesn't look a thing like Jesus, Today I sat mostly with the AH kids, right, Deb, Hui, Jared and Bao, and my god. It was hysterical. Deb was charging her iPod next to me, so I started scrolling through it and reading out the song names in an ironic voice. "Stolen Eyes. Stop and Stare. Well, by then you'd have to." And sort of midway through I reach Strawberry Jam and stronger and I'm about to make a joke about when suddenly I see Succession of Witches, Succession of Wolves and The Successor, and then SUDDENLY I SEE and I just sat there and laughed until I was crying, and everyone else was just laughing at me. THEN Hui has this mysterious green polyacryl creature from inside a kinder surprise, which- according to the very vauge instructions- turns blue in sunlight. Cue series of attempts to make it turn in blue in the very natural, UV-filled light of the hub. And periodic yells from Jared, IT'S TURNED BLUE!! Then when people were studying again, I went and replaced it with an assortment of blue things: highlighter, iPod, whiteboard duster. We all went mad. Totally mad. It was so funny, but in retrospect a bit... incoherent. Oh and then there was an influx of IJ girls, so Jared says, NUNS!! and I say, we're in the NUNIVERSE! And then everything is about pronunciation, infinite nunbers and, No, MGS girls can't really speak Chinese la, but two languages is better than nun. Then my iTunes played Got None, and I of course died. Aside from the insanity/inanity, it was an okay day. Productive, if not terribly speedy. Left of head hurting in a familiar, bad way. I think it's stress? But I've so rarely been this stressed that I'm not sure how reliable it is as a hypothesis. My back is like asklhgfdsanoIrefuseeleanor, so I am now bringing Onion the Pillow back to school with me. So P&P. Haha. Okay, bedbedbedbedbedbedbed lifetime commitment, recovering the satellites, when are you gonna come down?
and you come crash into me.
all I want is someone to pull me out Today started very well but now I just feel lousy. I feel worse and worse about not having gone for the lit mock. I also feel like I have all this geog that I don't know and I don't know how to learn it and I'm damn stressed out all of a sudden. asdfghjklgfd horrible.
and you come crash into me.
and I am blind I cannot find the heart The storm is coming, but I don't mind. I was listening to The Way I Am when I got your email and I was filled with happy sort of nonsense feelings, but UGH I HAVE TO STUDY keep breathing. Heh there's a really funny thing that happened to me regarding the GP department, but it would be ill-advised to talk about it here, so remind me to tell you (general, non-specific you, I hope, since there are very few people who read this) about it. It's made my week.
and you come crash into me.
Pierre Nkurunziza est le président de Burundi!
That's what I'm working on, Sam. Yes no prizes for guessing. Too busy
and you come crash into me.
listen, do you see yourself in me?
Just got home from Charly's, babysat for the evening. I get paid far far too much for this, though I can't say I'm complaining. Kids' tv these days is appalling. All this grow-up-too-fast teenage pop idol type nonsense. Trash that tells kids to stop being kids and be the teen equivalent of whichever adult archetype they want. I don't know what's so shameful about acting the age you are. I'm also really glad I was born when I was and not later because I would be so /stupid. And if not, even more out of sync with my generation than, in some ways, I already am. Looked through your photos. Is it just the angle or have you put on weight. Hurr. I look at your room and it makes me grin and feel sad and miss you. I feel neglected, fool. I don't think I should be the most important thing but I, urgh, I talk about you all the time, I have conversations and my only relevant anecdotes usually involve you, because you are always on my mind. I think about my alevels starting and I think about getting back from Italy and no day in between is of any significance. Act like you think this is important, please, make an effort. I am not static and this statis I am in in your absence cannot last and I will get tired and this will fall apart because I am doing all I can and you are doing very little. And if you pull another 'this is my life now' I will slap you so hard you won't know how you ended up in next Tuesday. You are contractually obliged to keep me a part of that life, and by part I do not mean a cameo.
I still don't understand this song, but it's getting under my skin.
and you come crash into me.
uh, on self-indulgence.
Okay, I don't gush about things like facebook and twitter and youtube. While I use all three I think they encourage us to get self-indulgent, air opinions when frankly most people's opinions I could do without. The number of superfluous youtube daily/weekly 'shows' is just appalling. But it is rather stunning what being 'big on Twitter' can help you acheive. Today Stephen Fry has crashed the Press Complaints Commission complaints site by mentioning it to his followers as a means to topple Jan Moir's 'homophobic' comments (I personally think she's a nasty piece of work). He's also suggested people follow Andy Burton, because the first to 10k followers between him Darren Bent has to donate a day's salary to charity. @footballandy is now moving up three or four followers with each consecutive refresh. ...I'm not sure what the implications of this are, but what the hell? Okay, /pretentious. Ugh. Also some very lucid advice from Yukon and now I genuinely need to suss out what I want from life. Enough of this post-gep hangup. Also did you notice I misspelt 'achieve' again?
and you come crash into me.
under a sheet of rain in my heart, I don't like the things you don't say,
and you come crash into me.
you know I could use somebody, So the SATs (on SATurday) went pretty okay. I had to leave a couple questions out on the maths, and I think my essay was actually nonsense, but oh well. It's really long, though, by section six you're already like asdfghjklkjhgfdsalet me out! I'm doing this arts council Non-Sequitur thing again. I think agreeing to do it was a mistake- I don't really have the time to edit AND design. One or the other would have been okay. But neither is somethign delegatable. I realise these days I have serious trouble spelling words like that: -able words. I misspelt 'unshakable' in my GP mock. Although I also misspelt 'achievement', so maybe I'm just losing it completely. Today I picked up a second-hand copy of Freakonomics. I will start parallel reading it to my lit texts, once I am done with FTT on Wednesday. This is Bat For Lashes. She's very interesting. Like Sia, but more mellow, and with Bjork's feather fixation. Notice how the presenter uses two adjectives per clause, at least? Her backup singer looks really creepy. I love the crazy high bit at 2:13.
and you come crash into me.
louder, louder, and we'll run for our lives.
Please don't mistake this for complacency but which part of three A's don't you understand?
and you come crash into me.
and on any given day I'd rather ride a limousine.
I had a dream
Crispy crispy Benjamin Franklin came over Baby-sat all four of my kids Then in my dream I told the doctor off He said if you don't want to do it then you don't have to do it He said the truth is, You'll be okay, anyway. Then in my dream Crispy crispy Benjamin Franklin and the doctor Went and had a talk with my boss Something about insurance policies They kept the door closed at all times I couldn't hear or see When they came out they said You'll be okay, anyway And I smiled cause I'd known it all the while. No thank you no thank you no thank you no thank you I ain't about to pay for this shit I can afford chemo like I couldn't afford a limo and on any given day I'd rather ride a limousine When I woke up My kids were being quiet I knew it was a dream right away I called the limousine company Then I got dressed I dressed the kids as well The limousine pulled in And we piled in The doctor he asked which way we were headed I said, Sir, let's just go west and he listened obediently, Sophie only wants to listen to radio BBC Michael sat on my knees and whispered to me All about the meanies Jacqueline was being such a big girl with her cup of tea looking out of the window And Barbara She looked just like my mom Oh my Barbara She looks so much like my mom. You know I get the most fucked up dreams and at least Regina knows I'm not alone. Yesterday was rough. I am retrieving pieces. Very Seagull. I hate when I get like this, all worked up with nowhere to go.
and you come crash into me.
whatever gets you through the day.
So yes, I made it through the day. Running and maths don't leave much room for thought. Pulled a sick card in the morning because the morning is too hard to deal with, but I went to school and did work later. I'm okay. I miss things, but it's been so long I don't remember what it is about you that I actually miss. Nonetheless. Happy birthday. I'm not the kind of person who forgets someone like you. ...twenty. God freaking damn. I still don't know how I'm supposed to do this. ...oh well.
and you come crash into me.
so it's never too late to start, right?
Mother. The whole application process just frightens me and I would really appreciate some support for the things I do want, and have found out about, and have been organised about. Encouragement about the things I don't and haven't would also be helpful, rather than sarcasm and constant 'wake-up calls' about things I wish I didn't already know.
and you come crash into me.
okay, scratch that. I'm not quite so... down. Assorted people: I just do not have the emotional wherewithal to handle your problems, or your drunkeness, or your propositions and your sadness when you never notice I'm too tired, when you always need my kick to head for some perspective, when I've been clear with you all along! Now my grades are mysteriously better than yours I'm suddenly one of Them? I'm too tired. I am keeping it together, I am keeping it together but I'm just not equipped to deal with this on my own with all this nonsense going on in my head. Inner strength is one thing. But go away, seriously, everyone.
and you come crash into me.
constantly bailing out water, Previous post, which I've actually written on paper, is going to have to wait a bit. I'm busy and tired. Today's been tough. Actually despite all the good news the week has been tough. My nails no longer exist and I'm having terrible dreams. I feel a bit overcome. Putting in a request for backup, please.
and you come crash into me.
i'm always dancing with you in the summer rain.
Will edit in a proper post, some interesting things today. But right now, too tired. And the headache returns. Coughing like a monster, also, I think I caught it off Div. However- passed BTT! ^^ gonna sleep early, can you believe it.
and you come crash into me.
a lifetime.
And no-one is allowed to be so proud they never reach out when they're giving up.
and you come crash into me.
now you grow small on the pavement, I wrote this sad little four chord song for myself. I'd like to put words to it, but multi-tasking is difficult and I can't really write lyrics. Also tried singing some of my worse poetry over it, that might work out. I finally finished this: It's not my best drawing, I think mostly because it's pushing at the edges of my already pretty minimal realism. But I quite like it. i decided not to make the tree go out the window- it looked stupid no matter what I did- which has given it a rather fake 2D quality. But as I was telling Mich, I kind of wanted that over-perfectness, since it's a mix of her dreaming and her being awake. If you can't read the words they're the alttag. Also, I really like Dave Matthews Band.
and you come crash into me.
l'esprit de l'escalier.
In retrospect, my point was: Because it's largely been me making the first move and I've always been more or less upfront about my feelings for you, my worst fear is that you will take me for granted. That you don't realise, or you forget how awesome I am- that you don't think you're as lucky to be with me as I am to be with you.
and you come crash into me.
hey waitress, what're you waiting for?
So I am really over working service. Last night Rosie was catering some function at the restaurant on Jurong island and asked me to come down since she needed the extra hands, I said I didn't mind. Turns out it was this construction company holding a dinner for their largely Bangladeshi foreign crew. There were two tables for the bosses- posh angmoh food, four courses, in the aircon. A buffet for the underlings, which I found considerably unpleasant of them, but not my place to say. The workers all had coupons for beer- one a mug. I was mostly inside with Ida, this girl I used to work with, managing the bosstable, but I had to work the bar as well, because it was like a (stereotypical) New Delhi bus station. They mobbed the place. And just stood there, thrusting these coupons at us. I was determined to be the perfect service staff, since I figure these guys don't get waited on often, and if their bosses were going to point out the divide I wasn't going to help, but it was exhausting. And so much food wasted. I guess buffets aren't what they're used to, but so much food on plates, that just didn't get eaten. Appalling. Worse than kiasu Singaporeans. I guess I liked this better when I needed the validation. I am proud of how good I am at it- good with the customers, I can hold lots of plates and lots of instructions, I work well with kitchen and wait staff and I'm very thorough. You could probably eat off the floor once I mop it. But being the youngest on the team is more fun when you're fourteen than eighteen, and I am no longer so insecure I need to be stared at by customers to feel worth something. Now it's just annoying and creepy. I'm impatient, so it's remarkable I've never hated waiting for instructions as much as I did last night. I'm older now, have more experience and common sense, could make decent decisions without having to be told opposing things like four or five times by two different people. I think part of why I liked working so much before was that I was part of a great team, especially in the kitchen at Keppel. And at Fabbrica I had a brilliant and dedicated manager. Without Manan out front and Daniel in the kitchen it's not a great job any more. On another note, Ida, who, when I last worked there after my O's, wanted me to teach her Italian and was dating some Italian chef: I asked, jokingly, so, the Italian boyfriend, still around? And she laughed and said, yeah, we're married. 'Due anni', apparently. And when she said I'd grown, I was all aiya no la, it segued into some thing about how I've put on weight, and she asked if SHE'd put on any. And she's got a tiny frame, so I said don't be ridiculous! Then late in the evening she suddenly says she's three months pregnant. It was wonderful to see her, and I'm so happy for her. Seems crazy to me that I've got friends at that stage of their lives. But urgh, I'm thrilled. Dinner at Corrina and Axel's this evening. Should be fun. Monday is school, and tomorrow I really must get SOMETHING done regarding this personal statement crap. Oh UCAS, why.
and you come crash into me.
speaking of world enough.
...psych at UCL. UK students, Fees are capped at £3,225. For foreign students, it's going to be about £16,000. POUNDS. What am I going to do. Most places I want, psych hovers above £10k. Except Cambridge. Why is Cambridge so comparatively cheap- only £9k+, although there's the additional college fees. Aiyah if only. I've just had this huge argument (literally) with the Cambridge website, yelling, essentially, 'I want I want I want I want I want'. It's worn me out. Anyway. Working some catering gig tomorrow as a favour to Rosie (former bosslady, Suri's mom). Before that going to school to talk to Madam about UCAS and Miss Tan about th US. Have applied for driving licence. Come on, eleanor, sbrigati!
and you come crash into me.
I think I need a sunrise.
The air here is so close. I am appalled by my own behaviour. Meh. It's called the life effect.
and you come crash into me.
every ten seconds or so i get prickling spasms across my arms, chest and back. it's so painful, i don't even know what to do. i think if i write enough reminders about this to myself maybe next time i will be less stupid.
and you come crash into me.
if you find yourself here on my side of town Hopping around yelling 'Mothertruckers' and 'cursed fried muffins' to myself. So, so, so much pain. I am never going in the sun again. Can't even lie in bed. Lay in a cold bath for forty-five minutes till I was shivering. Shoulders, centre of upper and sides of lower back are on fire. I almost want to die. What I need is love and attention and Nivea After Sun to be sprayed liberally on me. Oh god. I am never going in the sun again.
and you come crash into me.
I miss the sound of your voice,
and you come crash into me.
'cause waking up without you
Prelims are finally over. Thank god. Numerous dumb mistakes in MCQ already. Slept badly last night and am unable to get it out of my system because it's just too screwed up to write down. Syahir asked me why my dreams bother me so much. I don't know, to be honest. Maybe because they are subconscious. And so often in them I have no control over the situation. Speaking of which the whole family voted for Frances, to no avail. Aw well Char it's all on you <3 Right. Sleep. Quite down and out today. Worrying about things. I look forward to winter on several counts.
and you come crash into me.
dark little heaven at the top of the stairs.
Today I drew for like three hours. Huh. Anyhow; because now I know you're so much more than arithmetic. also, from Mock the Week, my new favourite take on the recession, courtesy David Mitchell: The thing is though, this is amount of money-- that amount of money-- it's just some numbers on a computer disappearing, or reappearing, or naughts going, you know-- it must be very tempting, at the point when you realise that, if someone were to sneak up to you and go, "just type it back in". Heh. Lit and DEP tomorrow, then DONE with the writing urgh. Also, UCAS applications need to get done. I'm terrified by the prospect, it's like trying to get into AC all over again. Separately I'm having the most bizarre dreams again. In last night's Bryan and Eunice were at my place for a house party after I'd gone to the national day parade with Judith, where we'd had a logical debate about how the more contrived the celebrations got the more they quashed any real feeling that might have existed. We were interrupted by Alfian leading a choir singing MERDEKA extremely loudly. That was when I went home, which was actually school, to find that Chuting and Leon had just arrived, and she told me 'they' had replenished the sweets. There were these nice strawberries too. Then I went to the pool but I couldn't really swim because it was nighttime and we all know that is my weakness. Then Jun was there and mocking me for my irrational fear of imaginary noctural sharks. Then he starts swimming about underwated to prove there are none, and I'm sticking near the sound listening to my mom talk, but Jun says he can only hear her from underwater so I cup my hand and move it downwards so it's full of air and he can breathe it. Then I have to go back to the house because Mark Whitacker was stealing my badminton. Not badminton racquet (which I don't posses anyway), but my Badminton. What does bbc2 DO to my brain?
and you come crash into me.
Isolating, Sequencing and Cloning of DNA
I won't leave you out of my will,
Odd, yet oddly cute. Anyway. Bio paper three tomorrow. ELEANOR, YOU CAN DO THIS!!! Aiyo. Also, outstanding service award. ^^
and you come crash into me.
serving suggestion: on a plate.
I had an array of things to say, but I've forgotten what they were. I've discovered these new BBC shows- Eight out of Ten Cats, hosted by Jimmy Carr (but the intro guy had this ANNOYING American movie-type accent which I could not bear for more than three episodes) where they guess at statistics and make fun of them; and Mock the Week with Dara O'Brien, which is HILARIOUS. There's six of them, plus him, and they sit around making fun of British politics and everything else in the news. It's very topical, but lakgmelgiegkmjr funny. I realise I've just composed a post that nobody at all will want to read. My life appalls me.
and you come crash into me.
over the sea and far away.
Don't know why the scan quality is so bad. Photobucket's resizing dreadfully today. also. I'm going to fail geog.
and you come crash into me.
my windows look into your living room; Jermaine Jackson has children named Jermaine Jr, Autumn, Jaimy, Imperial, Jeremy, Jasmine, Donte, and best of all Jourdynn, Jaffar, and Jermajesty. The oldest is 32 and the youngest is 9. Why! Also I am writing this for posterity but rot13ing it for minimal security, just in case. Guvf jrrxraq (orpnhfr lbh jrer urer sbe n ybat gvzr) jnf shpxvat snagnfgvp. Vapyhqvat ohg abg yvzvgrq gb gur yvivat ebbz. V ybir lbh, lbh vzorpvyr, V nz tbvat gb zvff lbh fb zhpu.
and you come crash into me.
what i am doing.
your turn.
and you come crash into me.
forget forgotten,
Also, meiosis you are A Bitch.
and you come crash into me.
black tambourine.
Today, on the 111, I saw this other bus go past with a Singtel add, something illogical about 'music to the power of AMPed'. And in my mind a voice went, adenosine monophosphate. cAMP, cyclic adenosine monophosphate, secondary messenger in the signal transduction pathway in cell signalling, after the g-linked protein is activated by glucagon as a result of blood glucose levels being low, activates protein a series of protein kinases until final enzyme is activated, triggering cellular response, ie glycogenesis the breakdown of glycogen back into glucose, gluconeogenesis the conversion of amino acids and fats.... It was terrible.
and you come crash into me.
i'll wish as far as i can tell.
god I want my photoshop back.
and you come crash into me.
angst bucket
Today has been spent in an angst fugue. I feel like I'm running out of time for so many things. My time in AC is ending, and I feel like I've made alot of bad decisions regarding who to be nice to and who it's safe to piss off, and people are discovering too late that I am actually nice. It's as if, in spite of denying forcefully that it would happen, I've just made all the mistakes of secondary school all over again, just with more self-righteousness, better-formed arguments and less real excuse to be an idiot. I don't know, I just feel really down and out today. Head feels like it's been steamrollered. I need more time. Possibly also a hug. I'm just so frustrated right now I don't even know what to do.
and you come crash into me.
It is a writer, with nothing left that she knows how to say.
I posted this in sec two, it's from Fifteen Portraits of Despair- I think. I'm shocked by how similar it is to the questions I now have to answer on a regular basis. Don't think I saw my education going this way. I'm really beginning to worry about my grades. What if I fuck up, seriously. Urgh. A) If you can't be happy where you are, you can't be happy anywhere. Discuss, with examples from your own life.
B) Hell is Other People. Do you Agree? Demonstrate how this might or might not apply in the case of:
C) Construct an analogy using the saline nature of either tears or the sea and the salt that makes a dish palatable and adds piquance and savour.
also; Why Movies Suck.
Time Traveler's Wife - Opening 17th September Where The Wild Things Are - Opening 26th November
and you come crash into me.
time difference
as I crawl out of bed he has yet to open his eyes; my long-distance lover, undeparted, pre-emptively creates distance between our palms. the hours prepare us for separation, dawn and darkness misaligned in our voices: a sense of touch, of hearing, that falters. I stay awake as long as I can before you go, for the days already begin to shorten. where you will be, winter comes early. I am afraid of the cold settling in.
and you come crash into me.
today, today, Bio went well today. I hope that feeling prevails when I get the grades back. I asked madam Tham a question during the paper and I could tell she was pleased I'd answered all the other questions on the page already. Homeostasis, check. Nervous system, okay sort of check. (What's a sort of check?) Hannah and I went to Becky's today, bearing xiao long bao and bubble tea. She was off sick. Then brought the Boy to the mysteriously named Polymath and Crust, which he either liked or was just drawn to because it was A Bookstore. However the Wunderkammer exhibition isn't there any more which I thought was a huge pity because I think he would have liked it. I loved it. You know, sometimes you make me feel very stupid. Not the Talk after the photobook, but at the bus stop. Although really, it's the same thing- intellect and emotion in tandem. Days I think I care about you more than you like me. ...so insecure, right. But I know you refuse to say things you don't mean, even a little bit, it's just that your lack of tact is cruel, sometimes. When I hung up I felt like- what's that phrase?- a prize idiot, winning no prizes.
there's nothing more to take in that's going wrong.
and you come crash into me.
don't write until you have something to say.
Very frustratedly unable to write worth a damn lately. Looking at lines I know are bad and being unable to fix them! Also, GP hovering 32-35, Becky says I'm silly to be making a fuss but. Oh well. And bad dreams again. Not getting a lot of rest.
and you come crash into me.
G-g-g-golly, Sandra, Okay, weekened summary- yes, I had a weekend! I mean I did work, admittedly not enough, but I think worth it la. Friday Il Ragazzo was venuto for dinner. Godma met him- I think he was a bit. Taken aback. At least, unsure what to say to her. And then he was stunned by mamma yelling at a driver who ran a red light and got in her way- WANKER WANKER WANKER!!. We got home and discoved Smelly had Done Something in my bag, which made me angry, and then we went running- we're two seconds out the back gate when he does a cartwheel down the street. I think this is part of why I'm dating you. Then yesterday, R&G Are Dead. I think I am dead. Stoppard is spinning in his grave, and he's not even dead yet. I was disappointed to say the least. Leon and Claire were alright. But, urgh, let's just leave it at that. Then Timbre with Div and LK and Jun, which of course was fun. LK is not to be allowed alcohol, ever, ever again. I was SCANDALISED to discover Div DOES drink, just very very little and rarely chooses it. Tsk. Then today. Did Bio, productively, and then lunch at the Fabbri's. Which was largely intolerable. The most intelligent conversation I had was with the three-year-old (who was very, very cute I have to say, her name is Shu Lian- echoes of long Div urgh did I just call her that- and she is half Italian and Clever). Okay I had some smart talk with this twenty-something Italian guy in advertising but it was so... ex-pat. And talking to the women was startlingly non-cerebral. I hope this is not where I am headed. Then went to library to hang out with the boy for a while, and met the accomplices Bryan and Spiff again- they are quite nice. And are not above ganging up on him with me. Also, today is a month shy. What the hell am I going to do without you?
and you come crash into me.
to say the least.
wind has burned your skin Aside, what is my dress still doing here and I need to pass bio omg.
and you come crash into me.
I am a seagull, ....So it's over. IS went well, not the most emotional run, but clean and stable. I guess what I always worried about, right from the beginning, is that sense that you get when you're doing a monologue, that you might go out of control. That it'll be over before you have time to react, and you'll regret something. Maybe because I wasn't nervous, this time, or because I've been GS was, well, TIGHT. I love my group, I can't see myself in any of the other groups, simply because we're so... attached to each other, and to our script. I'm proud of Stuck in Neutral, and maybe just a little bit less terrified nowadays when my angsty monologues are put on display. I love how TIGHT actually spend alot of time slacking; to be honest I think people would be disappointed to see exactly how much. But aiya. They have kept me alive through the worst of last year. Then the showcase. Predictably no-one was there, save the parents, but oh well. These days I worry less about the audience. Emceeing was far more stressful than acting, I have to say. Mother was impressed with the standard and variety, and I was like, ..... well, Yes. We've not been wasting time, you know? I'm aware, more and more, of how glad and how relieved I am to be in AC. Where else could I go? I don't know.
and you come crash into me.
old war, best war.
Open books aren't really books without the words
and you come crash into me.
some days are better than others.
Why, school, why? You choke the life out of me. I love acjc, I do, it's not even the old dunman-angst; but I am so much more unhappy in term-time. I suspect it's the waking up in the dark that does it. As I said to Miss J a while back, if I wanted to wake up in the dark eight months of the year I would still be living in Glasgow. And routines, and having to do things you don't think are necessary, or pleasant, or even remotely useful, and uniforms, and sticking out, and people being ...patronising. And hours on the bus, yuck.
Also, Culminatio. Oh, and, le YLYNN IS BACK <33 She got me flowers and they are smelling the room up lovely. I'm so glad she made Culminatio. The number of performances I've been involved with since she left is rather vast (and I know just how vast, been working on SGC today) it's awesome that she's made this one, it's the last, technically. Some of the Council came, too, and assorted CAPlets, and of course Sam (e' cosi' importante per me- lei dice che venisse primo anche di essere chiesto. vera amicizia, sai?) It's been a good last week to the holidays, as far as last weeks go. Oh well. Nothing lasts forever.
and you come crash into me.
other side of the world.
Fingers are sore from Also, Culminatio is this Saturday.
and you come crash into me.
smile empty soul
Things I Want To Do Which is, oddly enough, right now, it. Regarding sleep a logical question would be, WELL WHY DON'T YOU, ELEANOR. But this is a perennial question, I guess, with me. I am worried about Corinna. She is very, very sad, and I don't know why, and refusing to tell us. We're talking postpone-the-wedding sad. Sam? Aside, a bit annoyed at there being nothing to write about. It says even clearer than Cyril that I have been writing the same trash over and over for months. Not a good thing.
and you come crash into me.
I just want back in your head.
It's hilarious how when I am happy, there is nothing to blog about. This week is... IS week. And mug week. I have to start studying properly. I suppose now I have something to prove, and so distraction is just not on the cards. As auntie Val put it- just be a MODEL DAUGHTER AND DO NOTHING WRONG. Before I forget. I have to finish: Lit essay. Geog essay. Bio assignment, on homeostasis. Non-work-related: THEY ARE FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY MAKING THIS MOVIE OH GOD I AM SO HAPPY. Time Traveler's Wife was such a lovely, lovely book okay. Chicklit notwithstanding. It doesn't even need getting into- if you read the sad bits suddenly they are STILL HEARTWRENCHING. Also, Sarah Kane; The things I want, I want with you. ^^
and you come crash into me.
things like swaddhiwudipong kexin says:
and you come crash into me.
...felicità.
Tra essere perseguito per volerti e ricordare che non posso averti, I am wearing myself out.
and you come crash into me.
don't leave me high, don't leave me dry.
Hurrrr GS prelims are done, midyears are done, suddenly there is this huge void! Also I have a headache. Also I am not entirely stable at the moment hahaha this is. Okay breathe. Today was fun hanging out with TIGHT like the old days. Spent the morning in my dad's office figuring out how to put our movement storyboards into a table and then get the printer to hjkawivunivuqw work. Then Ikea for lunch, and back to school, and viva panic, and makeup (madam said it was 'terrible', miss wong that we looked like we'd been 'punched' hahahaha but we liked it). Run went quite well. I like our piece, really. Then back over, where I swear we all went HYSTERICAL. And Jack ate something two other people had eaten part of, WE ARE VERY PROUD OF HIM HE IS NOW READY TO FACE THE REAL WORLD. Er, last night I fell down the spiral staircase in the lobby. My foot is uh bruised. I am, somewhat ashamed. Limping, rather hahaha. Was worst after prelim, since the CPA is so COLD. Last night it turned out to be far worse than I initially thought when I told LK, no sure I'll just sit here and wait till it gets better; it took me an hour to walk to the bus stop I swear, after sitting there pretending nothing was wrong for a substantial period of time. I needed rescuing. Have I mentioned, Hannah is asleep next to me with one of my cats on her leg. That cat, has no shame. We are singing tomorrow at Raffles City and you are advised not to be there- this isn't even like an unsubtle hint or reverse psychology or anything. I really don't want witnesses. Okay, must must sleep head paaaain.
and you come crash into me.
briefly, because Ben Jelen is inhabiting my brain.
But now I'm doubting me, Rocks has that ...doom, doom, doom drum beat in the background that High and Dry has, but slower. It's subliminal-- LIKE NADSAT-- it draws you in. LIKE NADSAT. (exeunt, panicked.)
and you come crash into me.
so please be sure to read the fine print.
Biology, you will be the death of me. And not in the Darwinian sense, thankyou. Brain is completely fried, and I get home to discover my room has been completely rearranged. I have this set of two-inch colour pencils arranged in a cd case? WHICH HAVE BEEN JUMBLED UP. My bookshelf, WICKED IS NEXT TO FRAGILE THINGS IS NEXT TO 向左走，向右走. Argh argh argh I don't know where anything is! Some bits of today were nice, but I was totally hysterical till about two o'clock, for reasons unknown, which may have been... confusing, would you say? Viz the mugging, Gene therapy is okay, assuming I remember all the details. OCOPEG is still a bit vague and all this stuff about tissue culture is just a joke haha I don't remember anything. I am genuinely worried about the paper on friday. The most tiring thing today, however, was booking slots when the consult sheets went up. It was like trying to book a lifeboat off the Titanic. Booked for Div as well, because lol otherwise NONE LEFT. I'm a bit lost as to what I booked for myself! Have to go double check tomorrow. Okay I am going to. Rearrange my colour pencils into a spectrum and then go to bed. Early. Because I am. Too tired to read any more, Huxley, just too damn tired. Somewhere at the edges of my consciousness: very excited (in a muffled way) about CAP.
and you come crash into me.
oh won't you light my candle?
At dinner last night: I suspect this is not as funny if you don't know the way my dad talks! He says everything like it's terribly new and serious and totally unheard of! And he has no interest in football, or SPC. I don't know I suspect this is where i get my strangeness from. Today Mel and I were singing RENT in the candeck. Totally unproductive. I have been trying to finish this damn GP compre for days. I. Cannot. Focus. yet you yearn and you churn and -rebound.
And so inexplicably, terribly tired! I don't know why. If it's to do with being sick yesterday it should pass, right? Did you swoon when she walked through the door? Every time, so be cautious.
and you come crash into me.
so in the chorus
I’m sorry, but your cats just freak me out,
and;
and you come crash into me.
places you have come to fear the most.
How there is always a choice, how reason prevails. You put in X, you get back Y. The tide comes in. The tide goes out. The high cost of living. Every god damned departure. For once not knowing what you want is unmitigated by knowing you cannot have it. Tu sei solo una cosa che per me e' importante. Continental drift theory. The inevitability of changing landscapes. Economies of scale- the law of diminishing affection. Mi mancherai. Thermodynamics. The fear of dying. The fear of falling. Fill up your damn forms and leave. Borders. Water. Oh I cannot get my thoughts in order!
and you come crash into me.
free, to get up and leave
Eleanor stupidity is not attractive. Study. Nothing else.
and you come crash into me.
every plan is a tiny prayer to father Time.
AND SO TODAY WE MUST COMPLETE:
Thankyou eleanor you may return to being useless now. We'll see you at home.
and you come crash into me.
you are my joy, you are my joy.
Heh I hate it when people do this to me, but I demand an outlet and I'm no good channelling to paper. And I need to get it out so I can do my GP. Sono gia' stanca di aspettare che lui mi dice cosa vuole veramente. Troppo difficile sapere. A me non piace mio comportamento, recentemente, ma non sono neanche sicuro come potrei cambiare. Ultimamente sei tu deve decidere la strada... And so Tiromancino and Samuele Bersani are all the answers I have. Such an absurdist play.
and you come crash into me.
concessions.
Ju was right; Ultimate Productivity > anger > misery > boys. Becky was right about 'a little fond of you', but more accurate still with how I need to be careful. Andrew was right that we are fishing in the middle of a field. Rachel was right in shaking her head at me. Sam was right in telling me to take stock and take it easy. Most painfully I begin to think Madam was right, too. Urgh all my refusals. Things, change, please!
and you come crash into me.
there's more to life than love and being together. My neighbours Axel and Corrina are getting married in I think two weeks. We were all at my upstairs neighbours' place and playing Taboo and stuff, and they were dancing stupidly to ABBA, and oh god, they are so in love. And it's naive of me, I know there's so much more to it and it's not always easy and fun simple and secure and dancing in living rooms but. I want that. I mean this is premature- I have my whole life ahead of me to find something like that and it's not like it's the only thing I want but it's just awful watching them and feeling so alone. Oh what the hell.
and you come crash into me.
oh angst, I don't know where you come from. There's a war inside of me aside, Tim Tam is (persistently) asking me to sing at the open mic thing. I WOULD VERY VERY MUCH LIKE TO BUT I'M TERRIFIED AND HANNAH IS NOT WANTING TO SING WITH ME. PLUS AFTER FIASCO A IDK IF I WANT TO TRAUMATISE MYSELF (or perhaps my audience) AGAIN LIKE THAT. *breathe*
and you come crash into me.
headsfull.
No I don't know why today is so angsty. I think it's the lack of sleep.
one: When we go out to dinner she introduces herself to the waitress and jokes about poisoning my drink. The silver chains of her earrings tangle in her hair, and like arsenic my fascination accumulates. I am increasingly in love with her, drawn to her like a migrating bird, gradually tangled in her hair.
two: How she writes. Cancelling words out, and then, re-reading, reminded by errors of their own importance, writing the same thing again four pages on. I begin to understand why she refuses to type her work. Her letters like post-structuralist novels. And then something I read about totality.
three: Sitting across from you I look away only to look back, only to check if your face is secure in my mind. For now you are square in front of me, and I can be sure. Even though I know you are leaving, this comforts me.
four: And again I am searching for meaning. five: I am not afraid of commitment. I'm afraid of that level of commitment. six: How in Latin, there is no distinction between mermaid and siren. seven: I am filled with a hunger that leaves no room for food. I catch myself wanting to eat, but nothing seems worth the effort, so I go to bed. Full of your absence. eight: The same way I never tire of thinking of you. How I am desperate to know you. Know all of you. nine: No one has ever filled my mind this way, trickling into it like alcohol and remaining, unsubsiding, like a flood. Every time I think of you I find myself imagining oceans, Atlantics, where before my life was dry land. ten: I am intensely aware of you. The inches between your shoes and mine. The seconds for which my arm is pressed against yours. I begin to think of you in still frames. I have trouble constructing narrative with the instances I have of your face, so my memory of our time is disjunct- I have lost track of when you held my hand, when your arm was around me- and yet I have forgotten nothing. Anyway. My CC is done. To be very honest this brings me less joy than I expected. Oh well.
and you come crash into me.
I've tried counting sheep Haahaha yesterday my CC was 4468 words long. An hour ago my CC was 3320 words long . My CC now has 2993 words. It's going, to be a long night.
and you come crash into me.
much ado,
Hm. I very much enjoyed Much Ado About Nothing. It was awesome to get out of the house and away from the computer and sit (sort of) on the grass. I got in the car with my dad (who spontaneously offered me a lift), and Human started playing, and the sun was shining, and haha Jun called me to ask about cheese, and I suddenly thought there might still be time for it to turn out to be a good day- and it did. Food and a clear sky and people I like and haha some bacardi. I thought they were a bit over the top, sometimes, but it was a hugely amusing, completely entertaining show, and strong performances all round. Wendy Kweh and Adrian were all they were made out to be, even if thought he milked the laughs a bit once in a while. She was quite fantastic, I was very impressed. Haahhaha and Ju and Jason were quite adorable. Jason was like a twelve-year-old. OH AND DUDE, THE SET, HAD A SWIMMING POOL ON IT. AND A FOUNTAIN. This was a HUGE selling point. The set was really quite inspired. There was this little kid walking around that I didn't quite see the need for. Seeing Adrian with no clothes on was a... surprise. Did I mention the pool?
and you come crash into me.
older chests reveal themselves I think I'm aging prematurely. My knees ache when it's cold. Also, in the (stunning, stunning gorgeous) photos Jorg took yesterday, I swear I look about thirty-five. And not in a good way. It may, however, be due to the lack of sleep. By the way, CC standing at 2684 oh God.
and you come crash into me.
I suppose this is just wasting time that could be better spent.
I am too tired to finish writing my CC. Or rather, resynthesising the information from two separate rewrites into some coherent structure, and footnoting accurately. I am thoroughly ill. My sleep schedules are so out of whack. But for some reason I'm just going to keep writing. Because there comes a point.
and you come crash into me.
End consonants!
So today, since going into school so Celine could do my makeup for her CC failed to yield decent photos (she's no photographer, and the camera couldn't cope with the glitter, and I am very unphotogenic), I went over to Jorg's so he could help take a few. On the way I call to check the address, and he tells me, clearly, block 20A, 10-11. And I'm like okay, I know it's Marine Crescent, so my dad drops me outside block 20 and heads home. And I was walking around, trying to find 20A. After realising the block numbers are totally arbitrary, I head towards the area that looks most familiar, but then I'm put off by the fact that it's mysteriously block 27. In my head I am constructing a complaint about the illogical way 20 and 20A appear to have everything from 16 to 32 between them. Then walking home from there, I stop and and consider the new CHIJK campus. I'm feeling kind of melancholy and nostalgic, missing the wooden railings and very much filled with kids-these-days thoughts. But I pull myself away, turn around, and smack my nose right into a telephone pole. Also, I've realised why I miss writing these things. I can talk about things that happen to me without needing to tell someone. I think this will, actually, save me drama in the future because it means less pointless attention-dependence relationships. Healthier to bitch into the emptiness of cyberspace, really.
and you come crash into me.
fill it up again.
So, pitas, after some embarrassment, I'm back. I think I eventually realised, mostly because I was reading people's LJ's for the first time in ages, that I miss having my own space. Uh today TIGHT performed at the special ed teachers' conference thing. Thankfully the audience was not, as we had feared, smaller than the cast, and they fed us which was nice. I have begun to lose my speech functions I fear, it's rather late. I need to tell someone, by the way, that Indigo Girls are very awesome. I discovered a cd of theirs I didn't know I had and listened to it in the hopes that I would mysteriously turn out to be Samantha Black Crow. Unfortunately not, but a very good disc nonetheless. ...I admit this post is just to check the layout. I will... find my voice again soon enough. Also, non-existant reader, bear with the coding bugs I will fix asap >_>
and you come crash into me.
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Hello, I'm Ele.
I climb trees, I have this thing for American Apparel and I love fairy lights.
I speak qualified Italian. I like sad songs, and songs with my name in them.
(and now everyone can google me and my fatalistic mix of td-tables and absolute positioning, yay.)