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My Dear we're slow dancing in a burning room |
Saturday, October 31, 2009, 11:16 AM
Under the influence of you
Yesterday, i got caught in school for having long hair at the back and was forced to get a haircut from one of the evil immigrant people who were once tea leaf pickers in some province in China who decided to ride a goat to Singapore to cut innocent boys' hair to make a living. So i sat in line with the other dozen or so guys who got caught for long hair waiting to have our pride and joy chopped off by the wonderful tea planters. When it reached my turn, i told the nice farmer, "Hi, i've been keeping this hair shape for about 6 months now and it's taken a lot of careful cutting by a very expensive barber, so is it possible for you to just trim the back slightly and leave the rest as it is?" She probably only understood the language of the elves or the plants for she stared at me as if i just spoke French to a Sumatran head hunter. But i told myself to trust her, after all, the teachers in the school would hire proper hairdressers to trim our hair so we won't look incredibly stupid, right? With that great expectation in mind, i watched in horror as the tea planter put down her scissors, picked up a comb and a razor and started slicing off my hair as if they were crops. With each slice, my heart sank more as the back of my head got butchered into this odd carpet grass square box, and as my fringe got cut into a straight line. I felt like grabbing the razor from her hands and lunging it straight into her chest. But i couldn't. She seemed to be holding it too tightly to snatch. And so, now, my hair looks worse than a mule's arse, but what can i do about it? All i can do to help myself now is wait for it to grow back and then get my usual barber to trim it to its original shape before hacked by tea planters. Pfft. I'm gonna go hibernate in some corner of my house and think about storyboards for my IS and maybe get out my guitar and pen down a tune or two. The year end rain's been rolling in and i've never felt happier to have storm clouds above my head. It feels like the end of some drought, but it's prolly just the entire year catching up with me. It's been an exhausting couple of months and it's only gonna get worse from here on. The desi girl dance is tonight, i pray we'll all have enough energy to pump out the whole dance on that stage. Exhausting yet so fulfilling. JM's new song from Battle Studies. Wednesday, October 28, 2009, 10:54 PM
Images of broken light
So as i'm writing this, my eyes shift from the wooden parquet of my floor to the off white of my ceiling trying to burrow into the deepest pits of my mind to tell you my life story that has taken place over the past week or so. Then i realize that the only thing i can tell you is that I've been having rehearsals. Nothing else but that. Although tiring, the insane combination of both text and dance routines are strangely relaxing. I feel like i'm working a job rather than following a set list of CCA rehearsal timings. Results were revealed last week. I didn't do too badly this time, it's prolly too early to say but, I've been promoted and have managed to boost my intellectual status from "inadequate" to "decent." But i doubt much can change to divert the direction of my grades. In the end, i think i can say i'm satisfied. Pfft. My birthday's coming round the bend in about a month or so, and this time, i'm really not looking forward to it. Every year i have such great expectations for a surprise or some sort of celebration that someone might throw in my face, but almost every year, nothing much has happened except the wonderful love from my family. Besides, this time, most of my closest friends will be in another country while i sit here on this Island, laughing at myself and my decision to shift my Egypt trip to an earlier date just so i could be in Singapore on my birthday to celebrate it. Pfft. Funny how the things you plan for never actually go according to the blue prints. And like you said, it's also during ACFF, so no one's gonna chose any party i'm holding over that. True. Fine. You win. Ruin my hopes of a party when i went to your ruined one. Get bent you sickening dickweed. Sometimes, i wonder why the dark hands of fate ever put you and i face to face. It feels like i'm walking through a hall of multi-coloured mirrors, smashing every reflection with hobnail boots strapped to my feet. Every monster that stares back at me, every single monster that you told me i am. Ok, i shan't digress into that path. I've got dance rehearsals for HSM, CMC and Desi Girl back to back on Friday. Survive it? Oh sure, why not? Death seems funny to me now after being so used to all this. Dad managed to grab front rows for the Tommy Emmanuel concert at the esplanade tomorrow. God bless your soul dear father. Best part, tomorrow is rehearsal free. I'm going to the concert to see one of the most skilled acoustic guitarists of our time and nothing even close to a flying truck is going to stop me. p.s. Does anyone else feel like sleeping in tomorrow and banishing all thoughts of school and work? Friday, October 16, 2009, 10:36 PM
Getting ready to leave the ground
The past two days have been nothing but bliss ever since the papers ended, finally jumped into the school pool after the DEP paper on Tuesday at night with Pris, Mich, Afi and Archanaa and swam. Went to Mich's house after that for nothing but movies and stayed there for the night. Woke up the next morning and did it all over again, went home in the afternoon to catch a snooze before Archanaa came over. All of us met again for dinner at parkway after that. It felt like this big holiday trip where we kept seeing each other. It felt like we were on our own little Island where the only people we knew existed were each other. Yesterday and today was AC games, basically, this huge conglomeration of sports. Like the olympics, with less grandeur. Came out of the games with a tan that left me redder than a poached lobster. I thought it'd be boring and sad like the previous 10 games days that i've attended/skipped. But i actually enjoyed this one. It kinda felt like one huge picnic. Rehearsals for Monte Cristo started yesterday after the games and lasted till 8, even today. I was apprehensive about kicking rehearsals back into motion, but i'm getting the same thrill pulsing under my skin whenever i read from that bullet proof script or dance to that ancient music. It's our love for this art that pulls us back every time, like our own little drug to the pain. As new president of the Arts Council, Yanka chose the ONE campaign for their CIP project and have set up a booth selling ONE campaign support stuff during AC games, and i'm a sucker for these things. So i bought a badge and the iconic ONE wristband. Started by the great Bono of U2. They also held a pledge taking thing today, 300 over people showed up to take the pledge and the straits times showed up with a camera and a reporter so that our voices would be imprinted onto a little section of the papers sometime this week. I don't know if its the wristband or my natural urge to stand up for causes like this, but i feel compelled to give you this website www.onesingapore.org and tell you to join the cause to stop poverty worldwide. Michael Buble's new album "Crazy Love" came out in America yesterday. Gonna hunt for it this weekend. John Mayer's just finished recording his new album "Battle Studies", not sure when it'll be out though. The holidays start soon and before i know it, Monte Cristo will be done with and then my birthday will zoom past like nobody's business, then Christmas will fizzle in 12 days, and then 2009 would've gone by. It's amazing how fast time can go without us even realizing it. I can't wait for the following weeks to come, it's not going to be that free, but at least i won't have the impending pressure of exams or anything. Life in technicolour again. Saturday, October 10, 2009, 2:26 PM
In the city of blinding lights
So we ditch the movie and decide that we're better off just exploring the sudden development of the town. Thank god for pasta. Before the contouristic building was nothing more than bleak white fences, obscene to the beauty of the rest of the road. But sprung from within, a thousand fireflies light up the city, they're advertising in the sky for people like us. It feels like nothing else in the world matters, our temporary liberation as we shed the skins wrapped around us 9 months ago. No need for second glances tonight, smile for the camera. A couple hundred times. Don't look before you laugh, look ugly in a photograph, flash bulbs purple irises but the camera can't see. So why do you care? We wander like tourists, talking to strangers as any person would. From halfway across the globe. Watch them frown in confusion as we thank them in their provincial tone. We laugh and line ourselves up, sweeping the cobble-stone pavements chasing lights with our lenses. The sounds of a thousand different radios echo around us, we find a familiar tune and contemplate stopping dead in our tracks to busk, getting lose change from fools to buy ourselves some pity. A thousand colours shine at us from all around, seeping in like sunny-side-ups stabbed with forks. The camera never seems to shut up, picture after picture till it feels like our souls have been sucked into the vortex of our kodak moments. It gets late and we have homes to report to. So we dive into the belly of the beast that slips beneath the curve of the earth, connecting this miniscule dot on the world map together. We disperse again, like a drop of ink thrown into water from a paper cup. Soon, the rest are gone and it's just you and me again. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Saturday, October 3, 2009, 9:46 PM
We met by the moon on the silvery lake
Like rats in a maze, we weave through the veins of our second home, going place to place doing whatever we have to before we finally walk the sheltered pavement out through the blue hued gates. Our usual chatter echoes across the distant path, we say what we can to dissolve the apparent load of nonsense that's being strapped to our backs. It helps. We board the bus, packed worse than an over-eager sardine can as we head to our usual evening haunt. Single heavy drops of rain parachuted from the sky and collided with the ground; their eternal kiss. We trudge down the little slopes and look around at the village, yellow stained haired people wandered around, cosy couples careened against each other, hands held tight on this cold night. The bright neon lights of advertising brilliance glower at us from above as we stroll into a humble food place. We find seats, buy food and eat. We smile, we talk, we laugh, we make comfortable conversations as we have been doing every day for the past 9 months. Enough time for an infant to burst free from its blanket of birth. With each word, our souls seem to be drawn closer together, until all of us, again, seem to exist as one single being, unable to imagine life without us. I can't remember life before your name. We push aside our empty plates and head out, back to the moist gravel. The crunch in our step sounds comforting. The loom of a distant car shines its light at us and we dash across the small road. As if it was traveling fast enough to make minced meat out of our anatomies. We step into a small bakery and pick up buns baked in heaven, kissed by angels then sent down here by clouds of love. A small Japanese baker looks up from his broom and smiles at us, his weathered face seemed to hide the secrets to the pure deliciousness of the place. 8:30. We should get going guys, head home and rest. So we hug and say goodbye, part ways at least for the next couple of hours. So it's just you and I. We stand by the lamp post and wait for our ride home. My turn today, since your mom's busy. Whatever conversation we seemed to be having cut short as my car arrives and we hop in. We both drift off to sleep in different tunes, your Lady Gaga and my John Mayer. We reach your house and you open the door and jump out, your smile seems to radiate a thousand happy thoughts. Goodbye, and good night. But, we never actually say goodbye. |
the machiavellian ist
Vanity isn't a sin, a little narcissm wouldn't hurt.Andrew. Music. Food. People. What more could you possibly want? |
partnersincrime
One day when i wake up and find the motive and time to link anybody, i'll let you know. backtoyesterday
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theventingmachine
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