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Go now, you are forgiven, I have seen the others, and I have discovered
and you come crash into me.
I'm going away soon.
So what happened to bulletproof weeks in your arms?
What happened to feelin' cheap radio songs?
and you come crash into me.
I was living in a devil town So last weekend: London. Stayed with Kyle and Samsam came down from Leamington Spa (posh) for a couple days too. tl;dr.
I took the train down after English class on Thursday evening- got in at like 2340. Train was awesome and it turned out I was on the same one as Kate McBain, who was dressed up all sharp going down south because (digression) Descarga were performing for the Queen (no shit). Read, slept, played flash games. Kyle lives one stop from Euston which is nice. First thing I saw when I got out was a man peeing in the corner, which made me think, okay, just like home then. Well not home. You know what I mean. Just hung out and talked in Kyle's room. He'd borrowed an airbed from a friend so I could sleep in the proper bed, but there wasn't enough square footage for it, the real bed and his desk so it was kinda squashed and every time he moved in the night we both woke up at the noise. I do a very good impression of an airbed-being-squashed noise by the way. Friday we had Thai for lunch and then I walked some of the way to class with Kyle, because Sam missed her train because someone was hogging the shower. I quote. Anyway then we met up at Baker St station and ran around the various levels yelling on the phone to try and find each other. Hugged her for about a year. We went to meet the friend she was staying with, who'd just finished her exams and was out for a drink with her coursemates. Charvi was pretty cool and we had a nice long chat over a pint (I know, right.) and then she took Sam's stuff home so we could go meet Kyle and Nad for dinner. As decided by Sam, lobster noodles near Paddington. We pick Nad up from the tube and walk forever to get there, beside a really nice canal with, uh, waterbirds I surprisingly knew the name of but now can't call to mind. Turns out the restaurant is this super atas looking posh place. We panic and worry that the dishes will all be tiny and cost a fortune, because the photography in the menu was all depth-of-focus arsty (makes sense okay) but they were actually okay, and the food was great. But expensive. Sam and I ordered and were therefore pretty damn pleased with ourselves. After that Nad went home, and Kyle, Sam and I went to the Comedy Store which was seriously awesome. Had a few drinks and laughed till we cried. Smacked Kyle a couple of times and booed with Sam when one of the comedians suggested girls were shit at Street Fighter. Found Sam's bus stop, waited with her, went home. Getting woken up in the night by the airbed noises made me smile, to be honest, even though by then I was pretty shattered. A good day. We were supposed to meet Sam at noon at Camden Town on Saturday but we woke up at about ten to. So I called her apologised and we met her there for one. We ate food from random stalls, Mexican food and pizza and doughnuts and curry and. Sam and I tried liquid nitrogen icecream which was seriously epic. Made with Valrhona , which everyone knows is my favourite chocolate. Wandered for ages, lost Kyle, bought, in the course of the day, a bag with butterflies on it, a dress with owls on it, Kirstin Dunst's hat from Elizabethtown, a crazy embroidered scarf for my mom and two tiny silver spoons. Probably some other things too. Sam and I talked for ages about everything and it was properly wonderful. I miss her so much, all the time. Walked her to the train. Kyle and I couldn't be fussed with dinner after all the food during the day so we bought Subway and brought it back to his room. Major moment of deja vu in the Subway- I remembered not only dreaming it but telling Lian about the dream. Kyle said, glitch in the matrix! look for the brick wall! And the interior decor of the shop was fake brick. Laughed and laughed, and watched in case a cat walked past the door. Happy. We were going to go clubbing but his friends ditched, so we. Stayed in and did some work. Seriously, man. Wtf? Budged up and tried to sleep on the real bed, which was a feat and a half. On Sunday we had Indian for lunch with his friend Malcolm (about whom I have heard endlessly) and went to the Natural History Museum, which was far away (not really but these Londoners are lazy) and totally worth it. Awesome dinosaur bones. And a model of a whale so large it was a landmark. I thought, as I often do, that designing museum exhibits must be an awesome job. After the museum we walked through South Kensington and Hyde Park, since it was too lovely an evening to get straight back on the tube. Tried to call Nad who had been rowing the previous day to get her to come have dinner but no luck, so we went and had roast pork, a whole duck and some token green veg. Man. So much food, so much loveliness. Went home with K, crashed. Or did work. I don't remember. Monday morning Kyle had class so I went for breakfast/lunch on my own at Pret a Manger- which I've never been to in Glasgow- who make lovely coffee. Had a sandwich and soup and K came to sit with me between classes, then I just went for a wander. Got a couple of photos from Camden developed, bought a card and some various bits and bobs. Had more coffee (it's so long since I really wanted coffee, instead of having it because it's there before I even decide I want it) and walked wherever there was sun. Caught up with K and his friend, went home and started watching Forrest Gump- my pick. It's been stuck in my head since I got the OCMS album and started listening to Big Time in the Jungle. Stopped halfway for K to take me to a really nice Italian dinner just down the road. Came back, watched the end, went to the station... and missed my train. Seriously. K booked another one, and then we woke up way too early for it. So slept again.... and the alarm didn't go off. But caught the early morning train in, and grabbed a cab from the station, dumped my things at home and then carried on into class to make my presentation on the biological basis for and the brain areas involved in synaethesia. Yay! Morning train meant I could get Krispy Kremes for Lou, which were very much appreciated. Hamish and I were up late watching TV on my computer and then I went to sleep and didn't wake up till about one oclock the next day. But what a fabulous fucking weekend, man.
and you come crash into me.
I'm chasing after you, steadily losing ground, Not to freak anybody out, or anything, although I am: why haven't I seen this before? What the hell? In a histological re-examination and re-classification of a series of 1,678 tumors of the parotid gland 37 (2.2%) exhibited the structures characteristic of acinic cell carcinoma. A long-term follow-up study showed that the prognosis quoad vitam in this type of tumor is poorer than previously has been inferred from short-term follow-ups. Thus the determinate survival rate fell from 89% at 5-year follow-up to 56% after 20-year follow-up. "5 year survival 90%, 20 year survival 60%".
and you come crash into me.
So it's been said before, I guess.
I am not someone who makes things. I appear to be someone who breaks things.
and you come crash into me.
because I always check to see mine's gone right, then I look at yours.
I hate falling in love because you fall out of it. It makes me so fucking spiteful. It makes me feel so ill. It makes me want bad things to happen to people that I suddenly hate. And against my better judgement: you were very fucking careful about handing it to me. Don't start revising history now.
and you come crash into me.
War Cry
I am at the stage* where I recognise a rejection email from the bit of it that pops up in gmail notifier. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, I'm tired of asking, because it's just depressing. This used to be the only thing I was good at. If I'm not worth much as an actor then I'm probably worth very little at all. And I thought this one went really well. I genuinely did.
and you come crash into me.
Dear Internet,
and you come crash into me.
I need you to know today, Something you said, it sits in my head:
my only weakness is knowing your secrets, holding them close
and you come crash into me.
il giorno poi del tuo ritorno.
There is no prize for doing the right thing and not the thing you want to do. Conscience is a bugger. As is morality. As is humanity's inability to teleport or make really cheap long-distance bullet trains.
and you come crash into me.
and you loved sunset strip when it sparkled,
And these nights I get high just from breathing, No harm trying. Nothing scares me more than trying. And sharks in the pool.
and you come crash into me.
Endodontic therapy.
Although the procedure is relatively painless when done properly , the root canal remains a stereotypically fearsome dental operation, and, in the United States, a common response to an unpleasant proposal is, "I'd rather have a root canal." So yesterday I had the first half of a root canal. My tooth on the top right had been hurting. I managed twice to miss my appointment at the dentist, possibly because of some subconscious fear response. But I finally went yesterday - ten minutes late - and met Dave. Dave's my dental surgeon, and really very fit with kind tawny eyes. Kind is important when someone is gonna put needles in your mouth. He shook my hand, told me my teeth weren't anywhere near as bad as I thought they were. Kind is also the best type of good-looking, because you don't want to be thinking, this arrogant but sexy man is completely judging me for my awful teeth. That aside, he was very good at that narration thing: giving you just the right amount of information so you know roughly what's going on and that, yes it's supposed to feel that weird, but not so much that you freak out thinking, you're going to do WHAT? A kind of spoken hand-holding. It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would, but I came out very wobbly. Today, however, it is exceedingly sore. Last night I went to salsa class before the anaesthetic had worn off and half my face was still a bit numb. Felt pretty weird- couldn't smile properly and my smile was lopsided. Fun. Even better, however, was taking am unsuspecting drink of water from my bottle and spilling it all down my front as though, as Hamish would say, I were a bit spesh. Had to get a straw. Fun, fun, fun. And I go back on the fifteenth for the second half. Can't wait!
and you come crash into me.
I want Ryan Woodward to draw me, too.
Farewell, so long 'cause, I miss the way you, I never asked you for a sailboat in the yard, All I got was just this broken heart from you.
By the way, I've bought you a book of crosswords. Not even kidding.
and you come crash into me.
Feel like I've lost everything. This isn't how I want things to be. I want to be angry, I still am angry, but a huge part of me just wants to go over and make up, because this is too horrible and disproportionate a fallout. But I can't. More importantly I shouldn't. I mustn't. Got to carry on feeling like a disaster area. Walk home alone and cry like an idiot. Edit: I'm glad you asked. Don't think I could have said yes, but thank you anyway.
and you come crash into me.
con dinero y pasmado
You can give everything you've got, make something an absolute priority, get up early in the morning to help run errands and open stalls, and still you're not important enough. This all being said: S just phoned me to make sure I didn't take offense at what he said the other day. I didn't take offense. It just hurt.
and you come crash into me.
poteva andare meglio, puo' darsi.
Perché mi mancha il fiato, perché ti cerco ancora, non so come, ma come ci sará. I think every time I'm happy, I have to pay for it. Sat out of reggaeton today. Got there late and found I just didn't have the energy. I'm in desperate need of a fresh start. But life isn't like that: nothing short of a traumatic injury that fucks up declarative memory is going to do that. The mitigating factor of such an injury, however, would be that I could still keep dancing and getting better at it, since muscle memory skill functions are non-declarative. And I would never remember the people I danced with. I fell asleep in the library yesterday. This week has vanished under work. I don't have time to be upset but I am so blindingly angry it distracts me from sleeping. I'm beyond knowing what I'm paying for. I hate people. I hate the ways they think of to destroy you. I hate people, and if I could live in a cave with cats I would. You need other people to dance and to act, so clearly I should never have bothered with either. What a waste of time.
and you come crash into me.
tremble little lion man, you'll never settle any of your scores.
Things I hate: Irrelevantly: people who don't indicate at roundabouts, banks that shut at quarter to, and women who order extra-hot skinny lattes.
and you come crash into me.
everything that I said I'd do, like I'd make the world brand new.
Woke up, and wished that I was dead,
and you come crash into me.
just damage control for a walking corpse Bad news, baby I'm bad news, I'm just bad news bad news bad news. Still haven't figured out what that song means. What are portions for foxes? Why's that what we'll all be?
and you come crash into me.
not swallowed in the sea.
I know that I've been wrong but I'm too tired of being guilty. I don't know how to start talking again.
and you come crash into me.
maybe it's because when you start a new relationship they haven't had time to hate you yet.
The creeping certainty that I'm a horrible person, that I sleep with people and forget them, that I put myself first, that I take advantage of people because I am pretty, that this is all a mistake, all of it, everything I do and say and try to be and look like, because I can tell when text goes backwards, and how dare you, how dare you pretend to care, and how I hate you when I wake up in the morning and can't get out of bed and I wonder what you're thinking and I shouldn't because I don't get to know, so write about not writing about me. And write essays, I'm sorry to interrupt, what do I do to fix you and me? What do I do? I don't know what any of you want and I don't know how to find out, I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do. There is no hard reset button. I feel so guilty all the time and it wears me into the ground.
and you come crash into me.
Just like when you have fallen, I will be there when you rise.
Walking home as slowly as possible to put off the inevitable moment of being alone. I don't want to be this person. I don't want to keep needing picked up. I'm running out of people to sob at, whose floors I can sit on and read, whose attention I can hold, whose lives I can trespass on in order to feel like I'm a part of something. Other people are happy. Why can't I find that? What's wrong with me?
and you come crash into me.
Broca and Wernicke type aphasia
I was going under and you saved me
and you come crash into me.
the hill that gets steeper every morning.
It's like forgetting the words to your favourite song.
and you come crash into me.
daylight fading, go on- waste another year.
I feel quite depressed, today, even though I'm only listening to the happy songs. I think it's the weather. On the subway today, or rather on the escalator , this man on the up started yelling at this girl on the down, saying, Just because your parents are rich doesn't mean you're a better person-- richness comes from inside, not from your inheritance! She quite rightly just stopped at the bottom of the escalator and stared at him. Admittedly she was quite an irritating "and they were all like *hand gesture*, and I was all like, no," type and possible had done something to deserve it. She sat opposite me on the train. Or maybe it's not the weather. Maybe it's that Godma is dying, and I can't go home to say goodbye, assuming I even knew what to day. And Gabriella is dying, and I never really made friends with her even though I love her to pieces, and now I feel like if I go over there I'm just an imposition, and there's no way to prove that I want to see her, I'm not just going because she's sick. She is the best person I know, and she is so ill and so in pain and pretending that she isn't. How is that fair? Why does this happen? And Spartaco is dying, and Zia Marcellina is going mad, and it's making Mamma sad, and I don't know what to say to make her feel better. University feels incredibly trivial, now.
and you come crash into me.
still I play this game, in the middle lane.
Been thinking about driving. The amount of music that has been written about driving. It's quite a romanticised, rock-and-roll thing, isn't it? Driving- as they say- in weather; forget Irene, hurricane Katia kept blowing me out of my lane on the motorway. I want a car. I don't need one, and I can't afford one, but I want one. I think driving makes me feel grown-up, like I can get away from myself and leave my old life behind. That's kind of how I feel, these days. Like I'm another person altogether. I don't know if it's a fresh start I'm after, though I think so. Beivng me was becoming difficult. I feel like the new term, the new, free, driveable me, can only be a good thing. Right?
and you come crash into me.
and one last thing:
You know, you promised me things too.
and you come crash into me.
so don't say goodbye unless you mean it.
That aside, my javascript is rusty but god I am a genius.
and you come crash into me.
I never thought we'd have a last kiss I do recall now the smell of the rain fresh on the pavement.
and you come crash into me.
she said it's not about you, it's not about you, it's me.
Finally back to the flat, standing my empty room and feeling like the world has fallen apart around me. I need to go somewhere else for a week I just can't stay here.
and you come crash into me.
ashes and wine.
Someone just asked if this wasn't awkward. But do your legs feel awkward if you cut your arm? Should your hands be uncomfortable if you hurt your feet? It's not awkward. Just sad.
and you come crash into me.
Already dawn comes much later than before.
and you come crash into me.
paper doll.
I just want to go somewhere warm and lie in the sun. I don't want to work, I don't want to drive, I don't want to dance, I don't even want a drink, I just want to swim away and disappear. Speck on the horizon. Lying at the bottom looking at the sun. Thinking endlessly about what doctor said, and why I couldn't tell her I feel like this.
and you come crash into me.
never is a promise.
So today at work a guy came in, ordered a latte and some chocolate cake. He seemed nice (plus cute accent) so once he went upstairs I gave him one of the larger slices of cake. When I brought that and the coffee upstairs he had a really nice notebook on the table, so I said so. Both following times when I went up to clear tables he spoke to me, just casual chat, the usual for a place like (name of cafe I work in). Then when he left he stopped at the bar, thanked me, and asked (and I had to make him repeat himself, because the question seemed to make no sense) if I was wearing Eternity- as in, he said, your perfume. Eternity. And I said, oh-- yes, it is. Him: It's very nice on you. You wear it well. So I laughed, and said thank you as he walked out, and giggled into the orange juice machine as Lou made fun of me and said, Well he'll definitely be back in. But I don't think- and I've been thinking about this a lot- that I did anything out of the ordinary. Yeah, okay, I gave him a fractionally bigger bit of cake. Unless he's been in every week with Vernier calipers, he's not going to know that. I'm bound by the fact that I'm WORKING to be professional and not do anything inappropriate. Yes, sometimes it's guys I know and possibly find attractive that end up propositioning me. But guys whistle at me on the street. Men I haven't noticed till they speak to me ask me for my number. Friends I've literally never considered as anything else pretend to fight over me and flirt. And I don't push people away as soon as I think something might be going on, because that seems presumptious and arrogant: who am I to assume that guys are definitely trying to make a move on me? I'd rather give people the benefit of the doubt until they cross a line. I can look after myself till then, and there's no point being touchy. And- and I think this is important- I treat guys all the same way, unless I atually don't like them. It's possible (and this too sounds arrogant) that the things that men like me are not things I do on purpose; even if they're... cultivated, it's not like I turn them on to attract attention- they are often things I do consistently, with everyone, in every context, barring when I amn't allowed to. And while I rely on the fact that guys like me easily, or are less likely to dislike me than a woman is, sometimes, to make friends or break up tense situations or establish momentary relationships for ease of operation, I don't use people. I like attention, but I don't get a kick out of flirting with men. And anyway, don't we all like to be liked? The point of this was I was feeling guilty. And I don't think I should feel guilty. It's probably not my fault.
and you come crash into me.
as more and more it seems the right thing.
Do you believe in something beautiful? Then get up and be it.
and you come crash into me.
ca m'enerve.
Okay, mother is probably right. I should see a doctor, because I am crazy. Went right off the wall this morning over a tiny thing, completely out of the blue, and this happens every month. She says otherswise I will actually become one of those psycho women who commits murder because she's having her period. So okay. I'll call tomorrow. NHS here I come.
and you come crash into me.
Back when I still loved you, Natalie.
"Why did you leave?" I think I might still be trying to be her.
and you come crash into me.
t'es comment?
Beside my bed there's an empty white wine bottle, and a glass sitting on top of a grey-and-black China Mieville novel. I woke up today, saw them, and thought, Can anyone else say pretentious indie kid? And then I went back to sleep.
and you come crash into me.
I've been this way with so many before Today at Isla's: because he thought ballet was nowhere near as hard as the physical day he'd had, began teaching Martin develope's from fifth and tondues to the front and side. We never even got to the extension. He changed his mind and said yeah, okay, suddenly so much more respect for ballet dancers. And I felt really good, because I could see how much I'd improved since I started: pretty recently I was no more turned out than Marty, and I didn't know about straightening my knees or keeping my hips level or what on earth a tondue was. Hell, what fifth position was. I'm well pleased. Really need to grind at the physical stuff to really get better. Must, must, must stretch. Party at Descarga last night. Got very very drunk (again). No latenight ballet this time, and so not as much fun as that first social, but one awesome dance with Yainer to that No Digas song I love. And Mayla, his and Kate's wee girl, is so big now. She likes me. She's going to walk any day now, I'm sure. Frankie goes back to AJ tomorrow. I'm going to miss her, so much. I almost want to just run away with her. It's so easy to keep her happy, she doesn't judge me, or complain, she just wants me to throw her toy when she brings it over, and she curls up by me in bed, and we're great. Chris, Kyle, Isla and Lou have all told me I'm far too attached to her. Yeah, yeah, okay. She's almost-my dog too. ><
and you come crash into me.
hurricane drunk.
There really is a lot of crazy in my head, huh. I don't know how all that psycho fits in there. :/
and you come crash into me.
and people think that we're wonderful, now.
Liar. Liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar. Good to know. Liar, liar, liar. We're all just liars. I hate everyone, and everything, and I hate me. I hate you.
and you come crash into me.
so tell me, how it should be.
And I don't mind
and you come crash into me.
Pero me mata la conciencia, The first time someone tells you they love you it has incredible weight. It sits on your chest and your heart pounds. You have to look away, because it's coursing through you. Speaking of coursing, I'm officially immune to caffeine. I feel like perpetually drinking coffee at work. I love it. I love working at Biblo. I love the constant smell of coffee beans and the low music. It makes me feel like Sam Black Crow closing up the coffee house at night. Frankie and I went to the botanic gardens today. It was a reward for being good and sitting outside while I went to the bank and to the pharmacy. Have made a new hole on her collar and tightened it, so as to not have a repeat of the terror that is her slipping out of it. I like having a dog more than I expected to. It's great. Just don't tell Smelly, he'd be so mad at me.
and you come crash into me.
So I put my arms around you, and I hope that I will do no wrong.
Getting paid to dance is the best thing ever. You know what the other best-ever thing is? Having spent a full two years with this moron. Happy anniversary, Junfruit. I love you like life. I love you like dancing salsa. I love you like orange juice, to be honest, and that's seriously quite a lot. I love you like ice skating.
and you come crash into me.
Because you're working, building a mystery.
and you come crash into me.
No safe space.
I wrap my coat around to better What was I thinking?
and you come crash into me.
when I find you, I find me.
What do I do?
and you come crash into me.
song for the rich.
I've wanted to tell you this the past few nights, but I haven't had the chance. The night I got back, I was walking home alone from Arta and just at the top of Buchanan street this guy runs slowly past with his (I'm assuming) girlfriend on his back, yelling. And there's another apparent couple some way behind them, him staggering up the hill as she calls some kind of a challenge/threat to the two in front. They're trying to race, I think, losers. We could beat them in a minute, I turn to tell you, but you're not there. Also I feel bad for you not having done a lot of work the past three weeks. And we do this- you miss me most when I've been gone a while. I miss you most when I've just left. It's like breaking a habit.
and you come crash into me.
I saw the sea roll in, I saw my dear old friend. I try not to think about how wide my bed is. I would rather lie awake all night with you too warm and the wall very cold and the blanket too thin than go to sleep and forget and wake up without you again. Also, Lady Antebellum: go to hell.
and you come crash into me.
train.
Suddenly a fierce new love for this country, with its soft cliffs like cake and the strange slanting trees growing sideways with the wind.
and you come crash into me.
I know you don't read this any more. I wish you would.
For someone I so nearly loved I have managed to summon an awful lot of distaste. How could you not ask me what I said? Why did it have to be about you? Why do you get to say terrible things about me, and my relationships, but as soon as you THINK I've said or written something about you, I'm cruel and dramatic and low. It isn't fair. It isn't fair. You're so worried about winning a debate that it's stopped mattering whether you're right. And yes, Sean, this time I am writing about you. I want you to call me. I want you to say, hey, have a safe trip, see you when you get back. But I'll be damned if I'm going to stand in your close and make a fool of myself again for someone who just doesn't care about me any more. And that isn't an assumption. I have your utter disregard for me over the past three months as evidence.
and you come crash into me.
small crimes.
He smells of rum. Not as if he drinks too much. In a good way, like Morgan's; sweet, dark, spiced rum. I remember that he's Cuban and wonder if that's why, imagining the Caribbean drenched in alcohol as I dance. This is before I order my first drink. He asks why I hit him so much. I laugh. It's a habit, I say. Later while I try to teach a friend a complicated step he bows in mock worship, then as he careens with amusement I hit him again. He says making fun of me is becoming a habit. I am surprised he managed the recall, because his English is terrible. And he begins to question me. He says something I don't expect and I trip. We dance to another two songs. He spills my drink and for a moment I, too, smell of Cuba. When I leave the club the sky is still warm, filled with seagulls. I'm not used to seeing birds at night. Clouds have settled in and the light from the city is dull orange against them. Crossing Kelvin bridge I briefly consider climbing over the railing and falling into the cold water. I see three fights on my way home, but no-one shouts at me. I pretend he never said a word. That nothing frightened me into missing a step. And I will repeat him to no-one at all.
and you come crash into me.
in a place you won't feel cold.
Yesterday I rescued a cat from a tree. Indeed a major highlight. Got my theatre essay back today. Did really well- again, wondering if dropping the thing I've always been good at is the right way to go. After all, grades are grades, right. And a double first sounds like fun however you spin it.
and you come crash into me.
I'm three thousand miles, I'm three thousand miles away.
Oddest thing to happen thus far in the Glasgow chronicles: parade of people dressed in fur and luminous jerkin-esque items, singing native-American type chants. Armed with drums and assorted brass instruments. Very confusing. Looking out the window I could see other people pulling back curtains to investigate, too. Not well. Been thinking a lot. This flu's been coming on for some time, too. Too many late nights, I guess, but at least feeling sick is a good reason. Better than the nameless misery of the last few days. Still, can't tell if I'm severely hungover, or just properly ill.
Lying in bed reading Belle Du Jour: The Intimate Adventures of a London Call Girl. Startlingly well written, sad and sexy and very familiar. I wonder if I really am like her, or if the book is just written to feel easily relatable.
and you come crash into me.
fever dreams.
I wake up worrying that one day he will leave me and then I will have nothing.
and you come crash into me.
#l'esprit de l'escalier
It's a fucking mess when you can't speak freely any more.
and you come crash into me.
lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones.
and you come crash into me.
I hope my heart goes first.
You feel terrified at the thought of being left behind, of losing everybody, the necessity of dying; Oh, we kid ourselves there's future in the fucking, but there is no fucking future. I'm just practising my accents, picking at old sutures
and you come crash into me.
deep kitchen thoughts just after midnight.
When does yogurt go off? Can yogurt go off? I'm confused by this. Technically yogurt has already gone off, in the process of becoming yogurt. Yogurt is essentially dead.
and you come crash into me.
I don't want you back, you're only the best I ever had.
This week has been great. I feel loved. And I'm still lonely but, you know what, fuck it, I'm happy enough. And my house smells beautifully of lilies. Had a bit of a thought, standing against the radiator in my living room, humming Vertical Horizon. Good times that you can't have back should maybe just stay in your head, you know? 'Cause they can really screw with your judgment. But nothing's quite the same now, I just say your name now. Sam's asleep next to me. Time for bed.
and you come crash into me.
Puerto Rico, como t'extrano.
A lost weekend. Weekend filled with loss. I'm not sure if those mean the same thing. It's only February and this year has already taken everything away from me. Going to get drunk and watch Lights. I have nothing.
and you come crash into me.
oh what a cliche, I never want to see you again.
There are people who have taken parts of me that I will never get back. It doesn't matter if they love you- gradually they take you apart. So it's worst when they leave, and impossible to leave them alone.
and you come crash into me.
this time around, you can be anything.
If you wish to travel far and fast, travel light. Maybe time to take some things out of the backpack.
and you come crash into me.
stand in the middle of the street I spend quite a lot of time worrying about being liked. I like to be liked. It bothers me that people think I'm unfriendly, or too forceful, or strange, or cold. But I'd rather be cold and nearly self-sufficient. I like doing my own thing, I realise, and sometimes I wish people would do it with me, but I have to stop trying to give them my life in order for that to happen. There's no shame in finding it impossible to trust people til long after the fact. I've learnt that, and it's a big deal. I regret trusting people. Going to have to drown the insecurity. Be like that Kipling cat and walk by myself. Grow up. Hurt less. I'm twenty in two weeks. I'm not feeling like it's a bad thing.
and you come crash into me.
kyrie eleison, down the road that I must travel.
The ground outside my window is soft,
Wrote it for the Alumni publication. Been writing very little lately, and this feels a bit stiff still, but better than nothing.
and you come crash into me.
aguanile, aguanile mai mai.
Today I discovered the massive underground Marks and Spencer on
Buchanan street. Going down the escalator did not quite prepare me for
how much food they have packed into rows. It's basically where you want to be barricaded in the event of something apocalyptic.
and you come crash into me.
Is there a chance you might change your mind I can't say I ever plan on having kids, but if I ever have a daughter I will encourage her to be sane- normal, calm, relaxed. Because it doesn't matter how amazing you look, if you're psycho they get over you pretty quick. Things were going really well till now. Today was such a good day.
and you come crash into me.
dying for a good bachata.
Como me duele
and you come crash into me.
hand to the grind, hope to the sea.
So I just said, I miss you too.
and you come crash into me.
somos los campeones de la salsa.
LA's getting kinda crazy, New York's getting kinda cold- I keep my head from going crazy, I can't wait to get back home. I am in Sri Lanka. Yeah, don't ask.
and you come crash into me.
faith-based initiative: there's no such thing as false hope.
'Christmas' dinner at Sean/Sam/Max's, don't remember the last time I laughed that hard. So much fun. But now I smell very strongly of cigars. And I really like dessert wine. There's some things I need to do when I get home, and I'm a little frightened by the idea. And that's not even the going to the dentist bit. It's just, waiting for things to clear up, it's no fun, I barely know what I'm going to do and I don't know how to get through this.
and you come crash into me.
won't you save me San Francisco?
Dile al amor que no toque mi puerta,
and you come crash into me.
you and I were friends from outer space Good weekend. Went skating with Sean on Friday, in the square. Reminded me of being little again. I think I exude good vibes when I skate. Or I just become a nicer person. Speaking from various experiences. That afternoon and most of Saturday's was spent on his new xbox- discovered this game Alan Wake, a 'psychological thriller', which is bloody terrifying. Also played L4D2 with Max, which was bizarre but fun-- good bonding time lol. Anyway right now have more or less just gotten home from the Academia de Salsa masked ball, which was less ball than club and less masked than... unmasked. 'Cause it's really hard to dance without peripheral vision. But a great evening, am exceedingly cheerful now. Good dances with Sean, Donncha, Sam, Arseni (whose name I now realise looks dreadful in print) and various guys from elsewhere/ that I don't know. I really like salsa. I also really like when I feel myself getting better at it. Also there is nothing like a good bachata. Makes me happy. Tomorrow I need to get back to studying. Exams Wednesday and Friday, heading home next Monday. Have been more or less constantly listening to Train's Save Me San Francisco album. Seriously they are so very excellent. Nearly every song on that album kinda... speaks to me. And they have incredible range. Also a major pick-me-up is A Fine Frenzy's One Cell in the Sea, minus a couple of tracks that are heartbreaking. This is after all the girl that did Almost Lover >_>
and you come crash into me.
Snow and Lights.
Union que hadett di rimenes ami conmi avec laid. Ett ick creedo meici. This is the thing. Westcom ick feenes dasol. But I'm all right I live my life. Also, it's really cold. I'm beginning to feel it now. And I feel like dancing. Ankle ):
and you come crash into me.
I try to be more like you, speak louder and prouder and hide my love, So the floodgates open but nothing comes out-
and you come crash into me.
all of the reasons to keep on believing.
I know I'm nearly twenty but I really want to be that little girl in Bridge to Terabithia when I grow up. Also one day I want to be as good an actor as Anna Sophia Robb. What an amazing film. Leslie Burke.
and you come crash into me.
que voy a hacer, je ne sais pas I just want to go home, not alone to this flat, not by myself in this bed; I want to go home and be loved and looked after. I regret not chasing Dunman for my paperwork, or wish I'd talked my parents into letting me go to Clark for the spring semester. I wish I hadn't been waiting in the Boyd Orr when the fire alarm went off so I had to queue up again and stand in front of Roxan who was talking about a salsa night the following Wednesday. I can't deal with this. I was scared of throwing away something hugely important to me for the sake of how good it feels to be happy right now. Now I'm out of sorts because I have nothing. I'm not acting like me. I need to go home, and look at this boy I love, and remember who I am, and find my feet, and get away from the falling snow and the cold and the living alone and the fireworks and the clear skies, because they're just breaking my heart.
and you come crash into me.
I got a scar I can talk about.
Scary the things that sting, and I always feel jealous the same way, when it isn't my place I find it strangely hard to breathe. Gets a little short in my chest. Don't know why, 'cause I'm not like that.
and you come crash into me.
well-being
I'm having one of those good evenings- watching nonsense TV online and there's snow outside and it feels great to be drawing again, and I just feel like it's all okay, my kidneys have stopped trying to kill me, and things will work out, and I'm happy. And sometimes my feelings get scrambled, but it's nice to be in love. Yes, I do think that sounds really stupid, but aiya. Whatever.
and you come crash into me.
but perfectly honestly, I think it might be good for me.
SO. Been a while. Feeling better. ...and when I wasn't looking this post became really awfully tl;dr. Great. Fifth of November/ arrival of the Llama
Damn good weekend. On Friday the fifth had planned to go to Glasgow Green with Isla/Sean/Gen/Marty and various salsa people for the fireworks, but on the spur of the moment Sean and I decided to go with Gordon to Kilmarnock and spent the evening there with their friends. We had to walk to the park-thing-place which was some distance away, and despite walking very quickly missed the beginning. However this meant we were at the top of a hill when the fireworks started and we got the most amazing view. Trod across a massive muddy field to stand in the cold air listening to Dream the Impossible Dream. Sky impossibly clear and starry, fireworks of a much more powerful nature than back home- I could feel them pushing against my face. Hung out at someone's house after, first getting our asses kicked at Trivial Pursuits and then playing charades, which me and Gordon and someone else owned at. Try miming Schindler's List, man. Sean and I caught the bus back to Glasgow at maybe a quarter past midnight and hung out in Steak and Cherry waiting for Sam's bus to come in. I am a little resentful of S&C since I lost my hairband there after crossbody class. But they do an amazing hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows and a Flake bar. Fetched the Sam, took a cab home. We were up till don't know when, making bacon and caramelised onion wraps, cheese toast with peppers and dancing salsa in the kitchen. Went to bed happy and exhausted.
Beaverday Sunday So I don't remember what we did in the morning. OH no wait I do! We took Sam to the barras- I say we, I'd never been either- which is basically a markety place where they sell everything in the world. Like a Beach Road crossed with Arab Street. Sam and I stood staring for literally twenty minutes at a stall signed as (again, literally) The Big Sweetie Stall. Came away with (figuratively) our weight in sweets. Sam had never had tablet, bought a bar, walked away, and before we left had to go back to get another, oh, four bars? I bought Sean a candy bar I'd meant to keep note of the name of, so as to never, ever let one get near my teeth, but I've forgotten, so this will have to be reminder enough. Bought Sam haggis and neaps to try, since this is Scotland, after all. And a massive scarily tubular black pudding which I was supposed to cook for her but didn't 'cause she decided to take it home to her flatmates. Really nice walk there- surprisingly pretty day and we walked by the river for a bit. Then at 3pm dragged the Smaaa to salsa, of course, where she panicked a lot and I pretended to be a guy. I'm not very good at being a guy. We ditched the intermediate class to go visit Lou at Biblo (that's the cafe I've been going to, which I have yet to mention) and, armed with hot chocolate, trudged through suddenly bucketing rain (I mean seriously, no more pretty weather, it was pouring) to Sean's friend's gig, which was pree-etty pretentious semi-metal I-can't-tell loud stuff. Yeah. Sam and I had fun putting the CatHat on various young men with beards. I know this sounds absurd but it was brilliant. I also tried to pretend Sam was my girlfriend but she was having none of it. Then went home and we made Sean watch the second half of Hero except he fell asleep again so Sam and I watched it. And then tried to explain concepts like 天下 which I don't think I really understand they just kinda intrinsically make sense to me because I have heard them repeated since the age of naught. Which I guess really sums up Chinese education for you. We called Samsam a cab at about, oh, 0215? And then went to bed. I miss her all ready. WHoah already is one word.
and you come crash into me.
we are not what you think we are we are golden The balls of my feet hurt from what is probably too much salsa. The rest of me hurts.
and you come crash into me.
Another day, another destiny.
I see it your eyes, you're sick of me lying, Been a rough week so far and it's only Tuesday evening. Start going to another salsa class this evening, because at some point salsa became the only thing here that makes sense to me. It takes over my heart and my head the way ACSian theatre used to and that'll keep me sane. Hail, this morning. It's getting to 2000 dark by 1700 and people don't seem to understand why this is nightmarish to me. I miss the sun. When I think about that I get homesick, I feel very lost and unsafe and insecure and young in this country, but at the same time cynical and judged and old and patronised and misunderstood. Things are happening and I'm starting to question myself and my decisions. Et ne me plais pas.
and you come crash into me.
higher evolution.
I'm not in jail, or on Big Brother. You are what's best for me.
and you come crash into me.
'Cause I love you more than I could ever promise What if we stop having a ball?
and you come crash into me.
This adds up to more than us I almost said I love you.
For posterity, a highlight reel: Your face when you opened the door (after Rob told you he'd 'moved stuff around 'cause of the radiators, go have a look'). Picking me up and swinging me around in the kitchen. Eating Yenching food. You texting everyone you knew saying ELE IS HERE ELE IS HERE. Both of us falling out of bed. Like idiots. Like kids. The wind- the gale- on Newbury street. Presenting me to all your friends at lunch. Lying on the grass in the quad. Changing in Becky's room like old times. The kroks running in during Triple Threat. Laughing my head off with Div. Chocolate fudge me, baby don't judge me. Sitting on your lap and cheering for Singapore airlines. Making fun of you with the guy at Yenching. Camping in the blue chair at Currier, and gin and tonics with Meg et all. Running to rehearsal with you. J.P. Licks and candy and American apparel by myself. Your ridiculous, manic, handstanding polka. Sean bashing ballroom to me by text. You insisting i dance with you during open. Shutting my eyes. And crazy dips. Explaining American football over dinner. Payton Manning. Staying in bed all Monday. Telling the dining hall lady I'm your freshman girlfriend. Taking the T, and not bloody crying damn it.
and you come crash into me.
I'm scared I'll get scared and I swear I'll try to nail you back up, I am clearly out of my mind. Sean says deep down everybody wants to do this at least once in their life. He's right. I think. Counting down altitude like they do on planes helps me pretend this is not falling but flying. Wow. Here goes. Surprise.
and you come crash into me.
uno dos tres, cinco seis siete Great day today. Busy busy, but I like days better when I can get up in the morning. Was at a STaG afterparty last night- we just finished Alice in Wonderland and it was amazing, though I didn't do much, just some facepaint on the cards and the Mock Turtle and the like. Didn't drink anything, ate some CoOp yoghurt instead. Was feeling a bit down so I stayed at Cameron's instead, and the fact that the light comes through their curtains and his flatmate was getting up, I woke up early and got to 0900 Psych on time. 0900 Bio was cancelled so Anna came to Psych instead and it was amazing to have some one to sit with and puzzle over neurons with, again. I miss her. Tutorial after that, where I COULD CALCULATE STANDARD DEVIATION QUITE WELL THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Which made me endlessly happy. Then to STA, where I booked my flight out for next semester. Sandy, the guy who deals with me at STA, is cute as anything, and helped me check up on flights to Boston, as well. Went to English class, where I kicked ass at grammar. I love working out modals and auxilliary verbs and I am such a geek, man. Then home to make food, then full dress for Late Middle Classes, bought fruit for Saah, then theatre lecture, which was the low point of my day. What crap. They seem to assume everyone thinks all theatre is Naturalistic theatre, and therefore spend a lot of time just bashing Naturalism and Realism (which at university level I would expect to be separated, frankly). Today we were told about Dadaism, which I already hated, because seriously, yes there is more to art than was traditionally perceived at that time, but I have no patience for anti-art. It makes nothing. It wastes. Anarchy is not something to mindlessly persist at. Yes there is more to art. Find it. Find art. Dadaists didn't like the war and just threw tantrums. Mood picked up when we moved to Surrealism. AFTER THAT had to run to production meeting for tomorrow's show. Bit pointless, but we're performing in a church and like six of us made tea in the little kitchen in the creche, hilarious. I had bought strawberries and double cream and ate them. Finished early so I went to the last bit of salsa class, danced a little, then Sean and Sam came back to Isla and Gen's with me, and we ate chocolate cake with the remainder of the cream all whipped up with amaretto. Fantasmic evening, chatting with Sean on the sofa and then watching him and Sam work out complicated salsa moves on the carpet, taking turns to be the girl. Sam is, also, mental. Like he seems all normal on moment, and then he is trying to demonstrate how his nipples get massive enough to hang polo mints on when it's cold. Sean is a darling. Crazy crazy looking forward to the weekend though. Going to have to be so worth all this messy week.
and you come crash into me.
I would rather be yours than belong to me.
This is the band Isla and I saw in Tchai Ovna, the lead recorded it for me, 'cause I said that I'd loved it and mimed heartbreak while I did it. I didn't tell him to use 500 Days Of Summer, by the way. That's a complete coincidence.
and you come crash into me.
Reality and fantasy are confused, by necessity our lies become truths.
Birds fly. We all know that. We can see them do it. When time flies we don’t see it in the same way. Looking back on a period when time has flown makes things look like they are going fast-forward or all in a blur. The movement of time effects our vision. The time in our minds dances. I am in Edinburgh this weekend. Been staying with Lian, been to the theatre twice. Decided to come 'cause that Hugh Hughes who did Story of a Rabbit back in j2 is doing shows here and I thought, why the hell not come see it again. Also went to an improv show last night with Selby which was interesting. That man has a very brilliant head on his shoulders. Also today we went shopping, since I needed shoes, and much more fun doing it with Lian than going on my own (hateshoppinghateshopping). Then had Tex-Mex for dinner with her and Y-Lynn (who came to see Rabbit with me) and ended up sitting there chatting for about three hours. As the Scots would say, good times. Been some drama this week, again this is for me rather than you, Spiff thinks it's really cool that I've made up a language. I bloody think so too.
and you come crash into me.
and I miss you, she said, Just had an amazing evening at Tchai Ovna with Isla after salsa class. It's this dinky little teahouse place she wanted to take me to. None of the chairs match, there's no space and you have to share tables, it's like a batty person's living room. Tea was lovely and a band were playing and they were fantastic. I'm suddenly quite into Gaelic and how it sounds. We hung around after and talked to the band- the guy and the girl who are from a seven-person band, guitarist/writer/singer and viola-ist. And another guy, who sangd before them, and another guy, whose act is halfway between Craig David and Flight of the Conchords. I have written lyrics all across my arm, as usual.
and you come crash into me.
Darling when I see you, I see me.
Happy birthday. I've never been so happy.
and you come crash into me.
there's no guarantees, political scientist.
Well I woke up this morning
and you come crash into me.
all my life, there's trouble in America.
So I apologise for the radio silence. I've had no internet in the flat and not been anywhere with wifi long enough to figure out what I want to say. I'm sitting in a little cafe on Woodlands road, right near my flat, that sells second hand books. I've been here for about two hours. Isla brought me here last night, I like the woman who runs it, and they have nice hot chocolate, so I came back today. Glasgow hasn't been so bad. Getting bit cold, and I've got the flu (what's new...) but I'm quite liking it here. Met some people, particular friends are Anna from psych (Essex girl, who, while pretty smashed, at a club, hugged me tight and yelled, YOU'RE A LEGEND, MAN), Ayleen from theatre (who is from Inverness, which is on LOCH Ness), Paul (who I met when I fell down the stairs outside the English department, and looks like a skinny Paolo Nutini) and Ross (who I met in a club and is the only man to talk to me rather than hit on me in a club, ever). Trying to remember to eat- sometimes I get lazy. I'm doing salsa twice a week, and hahahaha poledance on mondays. Pole is such hard work, my arms hurt till Thursday this week. Spending a lot of time with Isla, and going dancing a little too often. Which has probably resulted in the flu. Don't understand, by the way, why you have to register with a GP in this country. It's absurd. I'm really sick, but I don't have a doctor, 'cause I can't register, 'cause the Fraser building isn't open till Monday. I would prescribe myself rhinathiol, danzen and no more clubbing. In the absence of a real doctor I'm going with panadol cold and clarityn, and yeah, no more clubbing.
and you come crash into me.
I don't want to sit on the pavement while you fly, Busy day today. The flat is/was a mess- previous tenant was a disgusting human being, a hoarder of plastic bags and take-out tupperware, and pathologically averse to sweeping, window-wiping, dishwashing, or cleaning of any sort, really. Aunt Moira has spent most of last month repainting and throwing things out and washing the floor in his wake, and it's still not finished. Although because she is far, far too nice and won't stand up for herself she's not even complained or tried to make him pay for anything. Bastard. Weather is holding out lovely. Jeans and a sweater, kind of lovely. Nothing of any real significance to write about. Saah arrives tomorrow. I miss Smelly. And I'm going to stab the next person who asks me if I'm 'excited' about university, for God's sake, I mean it.
and you come crash into me.
hoy me voy
I woke up today in London Beautiful day in London with mother and J. Huge huge huge huge but wondrous lunch in a small pub in Teddington. Very English. Feeling slightly intimated by prospects of university, housekeeping, eating, driving, living. On the plane my iPod decided to do a Long Distance Relationship playlist: Mae's Breakdown, KT Tunstall's Other Side of the World, Taylor Swift's Fifteen, Howie Day's She Says, etc. I think it was trying to be funny. BA's inflight entertainment is crap. I watched the lone episode of HIMYM as I ate dinner, slept all the way before and after. Probably accumulated a massive sleep debt before leaving Singapore. Heathrow is huge and poorly organised. We barely made it onto the flight up to Glasgow through no fault of our own, and then we were delayed on the tarmac. Drove into town, have showered (have not felt so in need of a shower since fun-o-rama), now sitting in bed in my grandmother's old house, which has been totally renovated. It's lovely, my aunt's done a beautiful job, but I don't really know where I am anymore. Also feel like either the rooms are smaller, or I'm an awful lot bigger.
and you come crash into me.
But oh this desert life Here at the dying end of the day
(Isn't that just like
and you come crash into me.
hold the line, love isn't always on time.
I fucken KNEW you paid for that ice cream. Also I take it back, Friday was great. Minus the germs. The germs suck.
and you come crash into me.
contradictory feelings.
1) I can't, right now. 2) I don't know if I want to. 3) I feel like I have to. 4) I feel like it's never about me. 5) I will because you want to because if I don't-- who knows. 6) I'm not unhappy that I can't right now. 7) I wish I knew how to want it.
and you come crash into me.
I blame you Hollywood If you liked it then you should have had a war for it, - Single Ladies, by Helen of Troy. If you are one of the fortunate people that has not heard about sixteen times thus far, Jun comes home tonight. Should have been last night, but Delta are fuckups.
and you come crash into me.
I told you I was brave but I lied.
Today was the least nice-guy thing you've ever done to me. You think you know someone, seven years on, and then some days you just feel used. Sooner or later you're going to be the last thing on my mind.
and you come crash into me.
I only think in sentences and I am a writer to the bone. I didn't come this far for you to make things hard for me. Actions speak louder than words, but words are easier to read. It wasn't my fault and I'm the only one paying for it. You can't reach far enough to take them back, even if you want to. I get to be angry, and sad, and hate the pictures. I get to wish you weren't friends, living minutes apart, because I won't hurt you back, because I can't kill anyone, because I can't go to Harvard, so I get to do that and you don't get to be self-righteous about it, because you hurt me and there is nothing else I can do. Sex complicates things. There is surrender in it, and surrender is irrevocable. My life seems unreal, my crime an illusion, a scene badly written in which I must play. I need you to say that you made a mistake, not that we are a mistake. You and I are not a mistake. I want to be angry with you. I am angry with you. I want you to know that. I want you to be guilty. I want you to come home. I am trying to say what I want to say without having to say I love you.
and you come crash into me.
breakable breakable girls and boys
I'm happy. My kids did good today.
and you come crash into me.
it's something about airports, Beat. She gathers herself. - Something About Airplanes
and you come crash into me.
august and everything after.
Oggi per la prima volta mi chiedevo come le cose avrebbero potuto essere per noi.
and you come crash into me.
I sure do love them red haired girls, I'm just like all the boys from Texas
So in sharp contrast tonight- today- I'm feeling, have been feeling, really optimistic. About school, about work, about this bizarre relationship, about my suntan. Finally taken the USD out of my wallet and put it in a safe place, plus the New York metrocard and Charliecard. I foresee future use. Maybe I'm not depressive, maybe I'm just psycho.
and you come crash into me.
I feel better when I hear you say So, bit down again, tonight. Nothing's happened, nothing's gone wrong. I was just saying to Kyle (because, you know, I'll unload on anyone that's willing to stick around) that this has been happening more often. I don't know if it's because I'm in a transition phase. I used to think I was just being dramatic. But I'm slightly worried that I have a problem of some sort, or something. And I hate the... needless drama of that, because, really, what right do I have to that sort of depression, there is nothing really wrong with my life or circumstance. Only when things happen- and things do happen- am I allowed to be upset. And in spite of that, I'm a bit down tonight. I'm scared that because of this I'm going to be a weight on the people I love, on the people that love me, on the people around me, all my life. I'm useless. But right now I'm going to take some melatonin and turn the lights off. We'll see.
and you come crash into me.
Growing older isn't what I'm afraid of it's growing up.
Doesn't it scare you that we're not kids any more? I'm not bothered by the approaching twenty, nineteen wasn't an issue (disregarding the overwhelming depression that came with it), eighteen was only irritatingly cliche. But it's too late to become a prodigy. Today I'm looking at the kids and thinking, wow, you guys are being reckless, you aren't old enough or smart enough for this kind of shit. And at the same time I know I was even worse. I think I reflexively have one standard for myself and another for everyone else- which is maybe why An Education scared me so much. I'm like Jenny. I'm smart, and because I'm y-level smart, and most people I know are x-level smart, and people treat me like I'm z-level smart, I tend to behave like I'm clever above and beyond and therefore I know better. Which is how smart kids make stupid decisions. Also as I get older some things get more... well. It's easier to be nonchalant about many of them. When they happened, when they started happening, when they became too many to count. Let's not say older. Let's say less young, because that's what bothers me. There's less sensation, less melodrama and romanticism, more real world get-on-with-it-ness. And the realisation that however dramatic your circumstance it only matters that you keep going. Life carries on whether you believe in it or not. Age diminishes solipsism.
and you come crash into me.
my fingertips are holding on to the cracks in our foundations, So in answer to your question, yes. Sometimes I think about it. Then I usually drink myself stupid, and don't go anywhere.
and you come crash into me.
My favourite line in The Cherry Orchard
Aside from that, I detest this play and everyone in it. People who say I am obsessed with Chekhov are seriously misinformed.
and you come crash into me.
TLDR; Day one: When Boston's always raining.
So we took the Greyhound up from NYC. I slept most of the way, because by now being sick was not actually a joke anymore and I was thoroughly ill. We got in at about... seven? And I crashed on the top bunk. Room is tiny- we now call it the Matchbox. It's all a bit of a blur but Jun made lots of phone calls and eventually Rob's mom came to get us and take me to the hospital. So, first impresssion of Cambridge is essentially, ER. I remember a doctor called steve who stuck a cotton swab down my throat and being prescribed penicillin by accident (I'm allergic to penicillin). I now have a patient bracelet from a US hospital. I could start a collection. I think Jun filled out most of my forms, because I was asleep and unable to talk. That was. Sweet of him. "And your relationship to the patient?" "She's my girlfriend." Rob's mom was essentially a lifesaver- drove us to the pharmacy after (which is another odd thing, parenthetically, a doctor gives you a prescription and you go to a pharmacy to actually collect your drugs after waiting twenty minutes. Doesn't seem very efficient, but it's how they do it in movies.) We went by their house, after that, so we could pick up Jun's sheets and have something to sleep on. Finally met Rob (formerly #Boston), though I didn't say much because I could not. Home (matchbox). Sleep. Hazy.
So Monday I just slept. Most of the day. Jun went to work, briefly, but returned when he found out he wasn't on the books yet. I had an odd conversation with Andrew, the roommate: him- "Did you grow up in Singapore?" me- "Yes, why?" him- "Oh, you just seemed American." "Ah maybe it's because we've been in NYC for a few days I've probably picked up the accent." "Oh, no, not that, it's just your hair is-" cue gesture at hair- "brown." Headline: HARVARD STUDENT BELIEVES THERE IS ONLY ONE BRAND OF CAUCASIAN! I could hardly talk or eat, this day, unless pretty dosed on ibuprofen. In the afternoon we went to get icecream from J.P. Licks, of which I am now a huge fan. At the icecream place Jun would repeat me the options that the guy behind the counter listed, like small, medium, large, and I would signal 1, 2, 3. Said guy began to watch me rather oddly so by the toppings section I whispered to Jun to tell him that I'D lost my voice and that I wasn't, you know, mad. And he said oh no I didn't think you were crazy I just thought maybe you were deaf or something, that's why you have to have this translator dude to follow you around. This was endlessly amusing to me. This evening and the following day I actually got quite down, and began to miss New York. There is a more dramatic and angsty post in my (new, from New York!) notebook, but I think that should possibly stay where it is. Essentially it felt very clear that I do not belong in Cambridge, and anyone can belong in New York, and I wanted to get out of there pretty sharp. But afternoon of second day we met up with Meg Kerr, whom I now adore, and we bought strawberries from the farmers' market, and ate the whole box, and then sat on the grass in the Yard, and stole Jun's phone, and chased and tackled him and aiya. So fun. Plus Cambridge weather in June is my ideal weather. Cool but sunny and too beautifully dry and crisp for words. We had dinner with Meg and Rob and also a Phil I met and quite liked. I, at the height of my ibuprofen numbness, had a quesadilla. Awesome.
So this day we went into Boston with Meg and Matt- formerly #Canada, whom I'd met the night before, and who greeted me with 'You must be Ele'. We mostly just wandered, picked up some clothes Meg needed to pick up, ate more icecream from J.P. Licks, and alternated between forcefully holding Jun out of any shop selling suits and me out of VS. We walked to the North End, where the harbour is, and I pointed across the Atlantic and said, 'Glasgow that way'. We saw seals in a tank and they were irrationally cute. As I think of the seals my face has gone kinda 0__0. We also sat on an island in the middle of a three way junction and Jun tried to bite my leg as I tried to take photos and everyone else tried not to laugh. I think this was also the night we retrieved a fridge and microwave from Rob's house and deposited them in Matt's room.
Day after that, I'm not sure. Tis bit vague. On Friday Jun and I went to Jamaica pond in Boston, which is a highly pretty place. We were wanting to sail a boat, but they quite wisely did not deem me in sailing shape and gave us a rowboat instead. I wish we could have sailed, but we had fun rowing just the same. At some point I bashed my head on the back bench but generally just trailed feet in the (cold cold) water, yelled at Jun who was yelling lines from something that could have been Carmen but could also just have been piano terms (often the case), eating milano biscuits and watching ducks try to take off from the surface of the lake. After that we sat around and ate the remains of an excellent pasta salad, then went to the Hatch Shell to watch Grease. It's by the river and very very pretty- little sailboats and ducks and reeds and everything.
So Jun had to work Saturday, so I went into Boston myself. And went to Victoria's Secret. Let it simply be said that much time was passed and much money spent. There was a craazy wind blowing-- the kind that tears down avenues and pulls at your face. I was grinning like a mad person. I loved it. Also went into Wendy's- incognito, as Jun is calling it. Then back to the Yard to wait on Jun, which I also like. I like sitting on grass. I like sun. Then he took me out to posh dinner. Hahaha. I wore my angel dress and he put on a suit and we looked, as we were told by total strangers, 'spiffy'. We look damn good dressed up la haha. I was suddenly violently ill halfway through my meal which was apparently tied to a fierce headache I'd had for the previous two hours. But this did not ruin my mood. It was just bizarre. Sunday I packed, then met Jun in the Yard, again, and we went for dinner at Rob's. Which was Epic. Us, Eleanor Regan and Phil Gillen, and obviously Rob and parents. Lobster, plus plus. We stuck them in the pot ourselves, well not other Eleanor, because she did not want to be involved in the mrrdrr. We ate a lot a lot and then Jun passed out on the sofa. I had a great time. I really like these people.
and you come crash into me.
TLDR; Taking a sixteen-hour flight is like nothing else I have ever experienced.
You have enough time to get excited, get bored, find stuff to do, question your motives for being on the plane in the first place, wonder if you're crazy, get down, get hyper, decide you are crazy, desperately want to get off the plane, go to sleep, wake up, feel better, and get excited again.
I watched Hercules on the first leg, and part of MuLan, and then discovered I really, really like DXB. Which is good, because I have a long layover there on the way back. I had fruit juice. Apple, lemon and mint. Day Zero: I am in the land of American Apparel. Dangerous. Sexy danger. So there's an AA at the end of the street Christina lives on. I like the Village. It's nice and the fire escapes really do look like RENT.
Walking in New York is lovely. There is something about New York. Even Jun concedes this point. It is, indeed, Unique New York. People are mad. And every ten minutes someone wants money from you. We walked (and stopped) by this wire fence covered in tiles that had been painted by various schoolkids and people and labelled 'Tiles for America'. It was mostly a post-9/11 tribute. While we were staring at it it started to rain. It was... painful. All these people that died, and all these people that felt connected to it. But more on 9/11 later. Also the thing to do in NYC is have breakfast in parks. Like, people do it. You buy food from a deli (GOD WHICH ARE FREAKING EVERYWHERE) and sit in a park, and consume. People walk about and there are pigeons and hey it's just really nice. Also, American girls, are very pretty. We went into a boutique in SoHo because there was a cat in the doorway. (I will link photo later.) This was the coolest shop, ever. They had a dog camped on a sofa, and two cats just wandering around sitting on the merchandise. Amazing. Really nice clothes, too expensive, but seriously this CAT I loved it. I don't know if it was the first day but oh my god we went to see Mamma Mia and it was FANTASMIC. Must have been actually because we were both soooo jetlagged it wasn't even funny. We put ourselves in the lottery for student rush tickets for In the Heights but we didn't get them, 'cause we've both got terrible luck. Then had a look at West Side, but couldn't get those either. So we just bought partial view tickets to Mamma Mia and ugh so good. Like so, so, good. During the encore the girls in front of me pulled us to our feet and Jun made me dance in the aisle. Which I am totally okay with. Then we walked through Times Square and down Broadway back home, singing songs from West Side and MM and everywhere and just. Oh. Tres content.
So we went to see ground zero. This hurt. I don't know why. It's not something that personally affected me, but 9/11 makes me very depressed. Went to the memorial preview centre and just cried. Just stood there like a moron and cried. Then we wandered the financial district- Jun and I do this thing where whenever we arrive somewhere and then need to leave we never go back the way we came, like clever people. We keep going straight. Which is how we ended up at the coast and saw the Statue of Liberty. Considered polling people on whether they knew the thing was actually French. Didn't. Instead we people watched and just sat in the sun. This was when I decided I loved New York, I think. Then we went home, and Jun went to sleep. And then we never left the house again -__- Thing about NYC: when it's hot people sell bottles of water. Then when it starts to rain people suddenly start selling umbrellas. There was this guy whose marketing tagline was 'No-one deserves to be wet in America', and that was the highlight of my day. But actually. People smoke less in NYC that I expected. There are no stray animals, but lots of people walking dogs. Some professionally. And as far as I'm concerned NYC in June is perfect weather. Just perfect. I like that streets run in order, which you kind of know, cerebrally, the place is a legend after all. But it's actually fantastic to navigate. Unless you are easily distracted (like we are) and miss your turning for no real reason. I bought raspberries for 2.50 a punnett and ate them like Amelie, because I felt like at 2.50 I could afford to. Also American girls, are really pretty. Batch three: so I'm going to New York City, 'cause it got a little sleazy here for me.
Central Park. I love it. We hit the swings like kids, and started talking to this black family with two little girls. I love that about America people just talk to each other it's not really a land of suspicion and sneakiness, at least, not always. Afterwards the dad started talking to a random guy with a unicycle and the guy let him try it and it was crazy. The wife and I tried to teach Jun how to swing standing up. Walked through the park, found these guys making huuuuuuge bubbles with string on sticks. Like, Huge. Bigger than me, huge. We stayed there for ages because I was taking pictures, and then Jun met someone who owned a dog, then there was no question of us leaving. We talked with the dog-owner till it got dark. The next time I am in NYC, and I swear, I am coming back here, I am bringing the bubble guys some photos I took. On our last morning we had lunch in Ellen's Stardust diner, which is the single coolest place in the universe with the exception of that place where they've approached absolute zero. It's where actors waiting to get on Broadway work, waiting tables, and they sing. Singing wait staff, who punctuate 'Another Day' and 'Gimme Gimme' with 'fruit cup' and 'bagels!'. Amazing voices. The kind of voices that make you want to give up the ghost and die. Unfortunately by this morning I was very sick and my throat forbade me food, let alone singing along. But god. These people were incredible. If I weren't writing this at 0300 in Cambridge I would be more eloquent. Additional NYC: I bought a notebook; I love cherry coke, dude, it really exists; People here are lovely, but crazy, like they are in the movies; I have bought new jeans; Greyhound is like the movies, too; We walked a blind man three blocks to a diner and his name was Henry; American girls are really pretty.
and you come crash into me.
and you lock your door, like I've been here before Suddenly between sheets and eyelids, I
and you come crash into me.
I've not forgotten what I said, come and find me when you're dead, 1) It is more important to be good to people who need your help than to be good to someone who doesn't. 2) God does not need me like 3) We, as a race, need to stop hurting one another. Admittedly our first duty as a species is to breed and ensure the continuation of the species, but loyalty there is waning. 4) To stop harming one another we need tolerance and temperance. More than that we need to be nice. 5) Perspective: the murder victim, the abused child (mostly by a heterosexual father I might add), the cancer patient, the poverty-stricken illiterate mother of six, these people need help. The murderer, the abuser, the cancer and the poverty, these are the things that need to be dealt with. The gay man who has found love with another man, or even just someone to get off with, christ, he doesn't need my help. And I think the abusive parent and the murderer need to be fixed a lot more than he does. 6) It no longer hurts that my best friend fundamentally believes I will go to hell, because I don't believe hell exists. My molecules, like those of a leaf or a rat or an eskimo or a bird, will go back to the earth. It's simple chemistry. God did not make me, and I am no better than another animal. Science says I'm nothing, I'm transient, I do what I can for the people who need me. Dennis Kelly (and some extrapolated patchy Darwin) says I'm made of stardust and I'm okay with that.
and you come crash into me.
and 70 million haven't tasted snow.
I'm having nightmares where I'm trapped. Not chased, like my usual bad dreams. I'm not sure what I'm afraid of right now.
and you come crash into me.
charts and graphs that have finally made it clear.
So I just watched that powerpoint you made me, back in J1, and, well, what a prick. I've reformatted the thumbdrive. I am well and truly, truly, truly done with you. Strange how you've shown me I made the right decision. Ciao.
and you come crash into me.
so okay, I'm saying this, and I never thought I would, but
bitch, back off.
and you come crash into me.
galactic empire state of mind
I've been trying to figure out whether I need a visa. Every time I think I know my mother says something to me and I have to go find out all over again, in a panic. This has led me to some interesting discoveries. US Embassy website:
Why am I going to this country? It's insane.
and you come crash into me.
be in a position to make me feel so damn unpretty.
In the immediate aftermath: I've lost all sense of proportion. Hair really has nothing to do with anything.
and you come crash into me.
you're too afraid, much too afraid to sing.
It's ridiculous how these things just pound the life out of me- the event, then the miniscule subsequent events, then the million reruns in my head, the speculation, the thinking, the frustration, the listing of possible explanations, the trying to see this from your point of view- it's like repeated waves of nausea that just keep pounding till I have a meltdown. I'm miserable. I never thought I was so bloody sensitive. It's like. Ugh. Grow a spine, Eleanor.
and you come crash into me.
this never stops getting to me.
ti fermo alle luce al tramonto e ti guardi negli occhi e ti vedo morire,
and you come crash into me.
i feel it in my bones, you're knocking at my windows That's when I realise we're all doing it. Saying love me, love only me, be only with me, don't hurt me, because I won't stand for it. But then when they do we're still standing- thrown backwards initially by the force of infidelity like a tidal wave in the instant of discovery, but scrambling upright and insisting we're fine. That we always thought we knew just what would need doing, but this love, this love is different, and you will defend them till the end, from the world and yourself. And you stay with him. With her. With the knowledge that your heart is already crushed, that you are no longer responsible for your actions. Loving this person is no longer a choice but a raft. Cling. Cling to me, only to me, don't hurt me, because I simply won't stand.
and you come crash into me.
post Hungry, post His Dark Materials, post the Methodist Newsletter.
I think my fundamental issue with Christianity is that as far as it's concerned our biggest mistake was that we wanted to know more than we were allowed. That's why we suffer the 'burden' of consciousness and the accompanying shame of our physical form and needs. But I am not ashamed of my body. I need what it needs. And I want to know bloody everything.
and you come crash into me.
I'd rather live in his world than live without him in mine.
Booked tickets. I'm flying to the US from the 9th of June and I'll be back on the 23rd. Emirates, leaving just before 0100.
and you come crash into me.
ça m'enerve
I can't stand this. So helpless. No fucking control over anything. What’s the point of trying to organise anything, anywhere? So damn frustrated. What else do you WANT FROM ME. It’s this huge joke where finally I’ve done my part- although in some life relationships I always have- I’ve come through, and I’m still stuck here pushing dirt. What the else am I supposed to do? Why waste my time going through the process, having me run around in circles with paperwork and struggling to cope with rejection when you were never going to let it happen?
and you come crash into me.
KC Accidental
But what kind of scale compares the weight of two beauties,
and you come crash into me.
don't you know you better run run run run run run run run run run run run?
I was taking a taxi today and there was this automated voice that told me to please put on my seatbelt, and have I left anything behind, and have a nice day. That was the clincher. Automated 'have a nice day'. Why bother? What's the point? What's the point in curtesy when it's not even actually curteous or polite or just being nice, it's an obligatory, automatic, computerised thing? I think there's something very wrong with our society. We've lost the plot and missed the point and every other metaphor I know, by such a huge distance. Gah. In other things, quite a good week. Been busy in school, but before the schools come in for rehearsal I pipe music over the CPA sound system and dance. I'm more confident dancing since the times Sam and I would book the black to dance during the A's, and possibly also 'cause AYLI has got me missing ACSian Theatre. Had dinner with Kyle on Wednesday night, and then we wandered about the botanic gardens and followed a cat into the middle of a field and talked, till I had to go meet Bryan to pay him for my VS order. Feet still a little sore from trekking in heels. Oh hahah while waiting for Kyle I had a coffee and started a conversation with a random guy, who turned out to be a photographer, who'd spent lots of time in Europe. Was a very Sure Thing kind of intro. I also yelled at the debate team, in a very Madam way. I felt bad, but ugh. If I ever caught Ken behaving like that I'd smack him from here to next Sunday. tldr: Shopping Rant.
We had rehearsal yesterday, and I then I got dragged to a flea market by Selby. John Farfalla Becky and I were coming down from a post-rehearsal discussion to City Hall to meet Yukon and Selby, and I was just going to go home from there. But LK descended upon me with such genuine joy and 'OMG ELE, THANK GOD YOU'RE HERE, I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE STUCK WITH THESE COUPLEY PEOPLE YOU CAN BE MY COUPLE PERSON FOR TODAY OKAY YAY SO FUN!' that I didn't have the heart. She was clutching at my arm and I said to John over my shoulder: 'I guess now would be a bad time to tell her I don't plan on going with you, right'. LK and I are fast walkers, compared the crippling pace Kwan & Co. move at, so it was quite fun to walk and talk with her. Got her in one piece to the place, and once she was safely in the clutches of the crowds and clothes John called and said Ele, Do You Wanna Leave, and I said hell yes. So we bailed, and took the 36 home and talked about games all the way, as if to reassert our sense of self. I went to try and buy Assassin's Creed II, but they didn't have the PC version. I did however buy four tops and a dress and a hideous necklace from which I have salvaged beautiful beads for about $18 overall. Which I can't complain about. But as I was telling Farfalla I think crowds also make me a bit panicky, but it's really only shopping crowds. I can't say why. I hate shopping. I mean. It's not that I don't like things. (and here I sound like my Love and Money monologue, but;) I like having things. I like accquiring possessions. I'm a bit of a hoarder. And if I see something I like, and I can afford it, I'll most likely buy it. So long as I think it's worth it. But I hate ...browsing. I hate haggling (although I'm quite into LK's style of just, Auntie, this one eight dollars can?), because I think, if I can afford it, why shouldn't I pay for it? And I don't like the rush, the competition of I'M GOING TO GET THIS BEFORE YOU AND I WILL HAVE IT AND YOU WON'T. It's sad and it annoys me. Oh and also I'm just very unfashionable. I don't like how other people dress. That's a big issue with flea markets. All these clothes that are 'popular' or 'in style' that just seriously look good on nobody- stupid prints, or stupid text, or big glaring decals, or odd cuts, or flouncy things, I don't WANT THEM. I like how I dress. I like how I look in clothes. I like being dressed appropriately. That's all that factors into my ...clothing-buying decisions. Shopping is something I can rant about endlessly, you see. Going to go finish this script, now. Our MDA deadline is Friday- we gotta get Checked. Which certainly amuses me. I think I'd hate that job. Reading all the trashy amateur work we Youfs create just gives it credence. As if the majority of us actually had anything worth listening to, however subversive, and as if anyone were actually listening.
and you come crash into me.
It's a feeling that kills me, man, Dissatisfied and lonely, this evening. Physical distance is easy in theory. I feel very disconnected. People think it's difficult, but it's a lot worse than it sounds. My computer is pretty screwed up. Taking it in to yell at the compaq people tomorrow, before NOL. Not sure if I should try buy a new one before school starts, or maybe just reformat a couple of times. I resent having to fix my laptop- as far as I'm concerned it should work on its own. I've had it less than two years, after all, and it takes all the fingers I possess to count the number of times it's died. I'm going to be working more or less full time at ACJC, starting Wednesday. Helping to pick up the slack on DEP, since Sam has been swallowed by the army. Gonna be editing CC's and doing consults with the kids for Theasthai, probably. Look forward to it. I like being back in AC. It's a little scary when you realise the kids look up to you. It's not a feeling I'm used to, being respected. AYLI was damn good and crewing for it was pretty cool. I'm a proper techie, now, haha, I know lights and how to focus them and stuff like that. Will be helping out at the CPA for SYF season, too. I guess it's good to be home. I'm taking my FTT again on the fifteenth. I'm going to fail it again. iTunes is playing, for the fourth time today, When Love Breaks Down. Aiya.
and you come crash into me.
How Stuff Works.
Dear People That I Know: You don't get to have it both ways. You don't get to say, go out and get a job stop wasting your life and then say, this is far too late to be coming home from work. You don't get to say, du bist die liebe meines lebens, and make me stay and stay, and then once I've moved on with my life make me the safe bet. You don't get to complain that the Madams turn theatre into a political melodrama and then insult me for going back now I'm free of the student burden. You don't get to check up on me and recon my friends whille we're dating, and then tell me it's absurd she now won't let you talk to me. And you don't get to say, she's crazy I insist on being friends with you, and then not talk to me when/because she's around, 'cause you're scared! Go to hell. Bit down today. Very tired. Ken's mom made me orange juice, which was wonderful of her. Show's looking good but the kids need to buck up. Lindis and I both started running versions of Jun's 'experiment in one act', with similarly disappointing results. Tomorrow will be a tough day. Tonight perhaps a tough night.
and you come crash into me.
come hither.
Hello. Very tired. I'm crewing for AYLI! It's fun. It's alternately dull and really stressful, but it's worth it to be back in the CPA. Very strange being proper crew- I've never done it. Lindis is stage managing, so I sit around with her and do whatever needs doing. YESTERDAY I bashed my head on the door to the flybar controls. That was glam. I knew someone was going to do it, I just hoped it wouldn't be me. Lying in bed right now trying to get throught my SMU app which is due today/Thursday and eating one of the cheap Magnum icecreams my dad's been buying from JB. Still feel like I'm covered in dust and spraypaint residue. Think I'm going to ditch this and go to sleep. I apologise for the stream of consciousness. Tomorrow's going to be busy- calltime's 0900, and I gotta get in earlier or else I'll never make it. Plus have to run off for class at 1400 in Bedok, then run back. Rarr okay I think this puts it in perspective BED BED NOW. Bye.
and you come crash into me.
the silicon chip inside her head gets switched to overload.
and Daddy doesn't understand it, Gnyx gb zr. V'z fbeel vg pnzr bhg yvxr guvf. V ybir lbh.
and you come crash into me.
you treat your heart like a hotel.
I don't know nothing except change will come,
and you come crash into me.
shoot the moon, miss completely.
RUSSIAN SENIOR ASSISTANT: I don't know what 'frumpy' means but onomatopoeically, sounds correct. Isabelle just added me on facebook. It's these culturally convoluted confident tanned semi-asian girls that drive me completely insane and into the depths of jealous insecurity. It's totally absurd. I should sleep. I'm also drinking too much coffee, again.
and you come crash into me.
WWSSD*? I think this is important. Culturally we're taught to deal only with minutiae. Read one paragraph at a time. Find direct synonyms for words rather than find something that best captures the essence of the phrase. Jun says FOS is THE thing. 'Cause 'if you can say it, you can talk to other people about it, you can convince them you're right, and this is how ideas take hold'. But that requires people to have the ability to... put together the big picture. To have an opinion, understand WHY they have that opinion and therefore be able to defend that opinion. He thinks this is an underdeveloped sense because people are hyper-aware of their legal liability. But I think it's underdeveloped because we are trained to never consider the big picture. That's why I wanted to teach GP. I would have overcome my paperwork incapabilities. I would have done something... Oh maybe I wouldn't. This is just my molotov spritzer again. The molotov spritzer article. That's one I'd like to read again. Raven, Dragon is all personel secured. Dragon is lifting to Paris. Copy, Dragon is lifting to Paris, Dragon is away. Raven, Cobra One is taking fire.
and you come crash into me.
the last full measure of devotion, of fidelity.
and you come crash into me.
everyone dreams about heaven, nobody knows what to think "Belize: Hell or heaven?
and you come crash into me.
and then she leaned out the 25th floor window of her reply i don't know the words for how much i hate myself right now.
and you come crash into me.
I hate it when they sing he's gone.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone. It's not warm when she's away. Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and she's always gone too long, anytime she goes away.
and you come crash into me.
it starts with a kiss, that's how I know you'll disappear.
EDIT: this is down now, sorry, divtags. Links:
and you come crash into me.
I've gone away, don't call me don't write This was ringing in my head for a really, really long time. I've only just placed it. Thank you, iTunes. Why am I not posting normally these days? Depressed again. I'm sorry about the pending Nine update, I will get to it, just work has suddenly gotten really busy. Or rather, I've suddenly got work. Mmm. Now I need to plan something to do with thirty J1's tomorrow, for two hours, in a too-small Wan Yong Hua. Ciao.
and you come crash into me.
I woke up and then.
Don't let me get out of this kiss
and you come crash into me.
I can't make this movie.
I am angry and I'm jealous. I can't seem to write, without you, any more. No, I love you. I must grow out of this need. Each finger of my hand a different length. Each nail a little less bitten. Each morning more bitter than the last. It's like after a point my whole world crumples inward like those damn paper bags. And I'm looking for things I don't want, people I shouldn't need, I get stupid, stupid. But the things I want, I say I want with you. I pray that something picks me up, and
No,
and you come crash into me.
please forgive me if I act a little strange, Perhaps what's wrong is the expectation. If you have no expectations, no imagination, no wonderful ideas that you have for other people that you'd like them to have for you, it's hard to want things. And if you have no desires, receiving nothing can't upset you. It's all relative. This concept of the entitled self, the indulgent ego, it invites comparison by demarcating what is mine and what is not, what is yours and what you are refusing to give me. It's all relative, because if you don't want anything, it doesn't matter whether you have it or not. You don't have to scrabble through the ruins of memory to ascertain your own importance. It doesn't matter how weighted your presence is in another person's head, when there is no absence to weigh it against. And when you can truly say, no, it doesn't matter, possibly you'll be happier. Edit: Last night, I dreamt you sent me a letter. Dream on, eleanor.
and you come crash into me.
It was such a small wish, a bright yellow flower.
A good day. I like that, in general, my friends can get along. This song has been stuck in my head, probably due to the title. I downloaded a Tiesto-T&S collaboration, it's called Feel It In My Bones and it's very, very good. They're good together. Anyway:
Flew home, back to where we met
and you come crash into me.
life's temporary, I quite like Chinese new year. I like how it's the last time of the year where everything really grinds to a halt. And everyone panics and queues for bak kwa, and mother buys flowers. That's a little digression and let's run with it!
SO yes. I've actually forgotten the other things I like about chinese new year. I do, however, feel sorry for mother. This thursday my grandma called her up and said, ah, Morag, you know we... have this ah, family.... gathering... dinner... on Saturday.... you... will be...? Mother, who has lived here through, what, 26 reunion dinners? Who has a red banner above the door and has scrubbed the house sparkling and reminds my dad to bring ang paos for his parents.
and you come crash into me.
camera one is zooming in, the soundtrack starts, the scene begins: So today D&O Soc was a disaster. I had a grand total of two j2s most of the time- between CNY rehearsal, j1 trials, the captain's ineptitude, and good old Jai Singh only caring about herself. Not very pleased with you, O debate captain, who never shows up. I also got saddled halfway through the loss of my j2s with a huge bunch of j1s- who were waiting for their trials. My class is not a holding room. Generally hugely displeased, largely because when I got these j1s, nobody TOLD me they were just there for trials! So I invented things. Got everyone to read lines off the handout I made- tongue twisters, invented statistics. Fixed individual problems, in the short term, really, made general statements, did my best I guess. There's a lot to be said for my improvisational skills. Met up with Daryl this morning, Daryl with whom I am writing a play for this Thing we're doing with ACSIB. Highly productive. I like him okay la. Gushed about which Rachael Yamagata songs we liked best, and how Metric aren't really anything like Stars, and oh my god YES I think Set Yourself On Fire is their BEST album TOO. Do you know who Josh Joplin is? Can you tell me who he sounds like, 'cause it's driving me insane? May or may not be directing Night of Laughter, depending on this NIE thing. No longer performing IS mono (thank god) since MOE thing got cancelled. Have fucking dreadful cramps again. Going to make some hot tea and lie in bed and whine.
and you come crash into me.
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.
[+] Chemo Limo
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. [+] Ten Reasons I Wish I Had The Guts
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. This thing 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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