readME: Exodus

RELOCATED

2010-07-25T06:57:00.000-07:00

DEAR ALL: THE AUTHOR OF THIS BLOG HAS NOW RELOCATED TO www.doodletuya.blogspot.com. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT.

Company

2010-02-18T09:07:00.000-08:00

From a shifting distance I heard
Shuffling footsteps, in disarray
Sweeping wilted dreams off
the tired dance floor.
The night has now lost its vigor
And I lay myself by the window
Listening to the last breath
Of my wilting dreams.
Finding shameless comfort
In the comfort of the conscience
that someone sits with me.

2009-12-07T14:45:00.000-08:00

back in the white room

white on four walls

white and untouched

plain and simple

until you see a spot

a spot of red

depths of crimson

the scarlett poison

a spot of red

i see it as beauty

you crumbled to your knees

you disagree

that is the decay of someone's heart

i said

you laughed in disbelief

and there i stand

with my heart out in my hand

the spot of red on the wall

the spot of red on my dress

still there i stand

with my heart out in my hand

Daisy

2009-12-07T14:11:00.000-08:00

I want to lead you there
The land beyond the rainbows
And lie on a bed of daisies
white and pure as snow.

I want to cradle you
Stop your hands from shaking
Sing you a lullaby
only angels are allowed to sing.

I want to crawl into your mind
Act like a ghostbuster
And slay away your kings
For that i'd be unkind.

I want to stop others from hurting you
even if that means me too.

I want to lie on a bed of daisies
white and pure as snow
white and pure as snow.

The Genesis of Each Day

2009-10-21T14:47:00.000-07:00

I am a morning person and I am not a bit ashamed. I am the opposite of vampires, I am strengthened and ivigorated by sunlight. To me,there is nothing more uplifting than waking up with rays of sun spilling unto your bed, flowing over your cold body like warm golden honey. Perhaps that explains why i love late spring/summer so much because the sun is up and blaring at 7 30am. (In winter, you won't see the sun until 9am). The first thing that greets me when I open my sleepy eyes is the warm exudes of Morning, the Genesis of each day.

I usually wake up with a stretch and a short prayer (if i remember). Dad used to tell us how important it is to verbally 'seize' the day with a positive shout as you jump off bed. Truth be told, he looks a little dorky doing that but if that's what gets him going, what have i got to say.

As for me, one of the things I look most forward to every morning is the most impotant meal of the day-Breakfast. Ok, i'll also be a bit more honest, sometimes it is beakfast that gets me up early in the first place. Unlike back home, mornings here starts off more sluggishly. There's no mounting laundry nor pressing house chores to do. I stretch, weigh myself in my bithday suit, then head off to the showers where I run through a list of to-do things in my head. The warm shower shakes off the last bit of last night's dream left clinging on to me.

Then according to my mood, i'll dress and make up (strictly according to my mood)before making myself a hot cup of black coffee and a yummy bowl of banana porridge (*porridge is not congee...it's oatmeal). I'll eat as i do a round check of facebook and emails. Then, i slip into a day's work as the last morsel of my morning bliss melts away like butter under the hot, glaring sun...

The underlying beauty of Mornings is that we all get to start the day on a fresh new page. Whether it is picking up from yesterday's unfinished business, or mending last night's fault, the day begins on a new page. You might have messed things up yesterday, but today you get another chance to set things right again. Much like life i presume. Someone told me that we all make mistakes at every stage in our lives, and in return for the lack of knowledge if offers us, youth pays us by giving us ample chance to redeem ourselves when things go wrong.

Broadcast Future

2009-10-20T14:53:00.000-07:00

The TV project screening at Loop Bar on Monday night was eye-opening. It was fun getting together with your course mates at the end of the semester to view the fruit of everyone's labour. Of course, some did better than others, but i think in general, everyone went home with the same goody bag-higher tolerance and a better understanding of broadcast media. Seeing the works of my coursemates really made me feel proud, you can pick up some talents right there and then. However, it is unsettling to note that almost all of the programmes followed a similiar structure of their host programme, each has the same factory manufactured style, structure and content. I know at this stage it is only fair that we follow a basic guideline, because it is about acquiing the basic skills; but still, it makes you wonder if that is why the media content we see today is so saturated yet generic.

I came into this course or even this entire degree having my mind dead set on entering the TV field. Yet two semester later, I am now edging towards radio. I fell in love very much with radio documentaries (I highly recommend ABC 360 and This American Life from Chicago Public Radio). I like the prospect of creating intimacy between the listeners and the talent; I like the idea of being able to provoke the listener's emotions through soundscapes; most of all, i like being able to listen more intently to other people's story and reenacting them on radio. It is a common perception (a misjudgment i'd say) that radio docos put people to sleep, but that is only if you're not paying attention or listening closely enough. The beauty of radio docos is that it allows you to be a more active media consumer. At least the visual aspect is removed, and you're left with your imagination to guide you through media consumption. You're not entirely manipulated though you are still guided within a certain framework.

TV or Radio? I have to decide which to enroll into next semester but thankfully i have the whole summer to think about it... =)

spiralling words

2009-10-13T02:10:00.000-07:00

honestly, i don't feel my feet on the ground.
it's like, i know how to swim
yet i am flapping in the water
i know about the theories, i've drawn a mind map
i have the skeleton, i even have the flesh,
the muscles. but it lacks a heart.

i wonder if birds ever forget how to fly?

* * *

constipated. that's the look i wear on my face these days.

* * *

i woke up at 3am. at 4am. and at 6am. then i gave up sleeping.

* * *

i'm thinking of mum all of a sudden. as jessie was going out to work today,
i got up from my work to say goodbye to her.
i remember jumping out from bed to say bye to mum every morning
i was 6 then
sometimes i would sit beside her and played around with her cosmetics
as she got dressed for work
i can still remember the smell of her La Poem perfume
and her well-pressed shoulder padded suits

* * *

I'm thinking of her
I'm thinking of me

我的经典乌龙

2009-10-11T22:34:00.000-07:00

今天中午为FF做饭时，我开玩笑地骂他是个肥仔，吃那么多，害我每次做的饭都不够。

然后我自嘲地说道， ‘哎呀，叫你肥仔，就像以一百步笑五十步一样。。。’

FF听了，嘴歪歪地，笑了一下。 ‘哇，很不错啊。还会用‘一百步笑五十步’啊。。。不错不错。。’

听他酱夸，我心里沾沾自喜，开心得不得了。

。。。‘不错。。。因为别人是用‘一五十步笑一百步’的，你的却相反。。。很厉害，很厉害。。。哈哈哈。。。哈哈哈。。。’

他。妈。的。

（btw,乌龙 lite lie dat collect or not?)

Sliding doors

2009-10-11T04:41:00.000-07:00

Kelly's baby was finally called home to heaven after one month of pain and suffering.

My cousin, Janice, gave birth to her first child, my nephew, on the same day.

You almost wondered if a peaceful transaction had taken place in heaven, if two souls had brushed shoulders through heaven's sliding doors.

I cannot even try to comprehend what it feels like to be in either situation, but i do know that though they are different, there are underlying similarities. Both contains joy, sadness, and relief. Both involves hurt and pain, physically, mentally.

I dreamt of both babies last night and they were both beautiful. One had fought her battle, short and meaningful. One was asleep, unaware of the hurdles that were ahead of him. Or perhaps he knew, and he was already mastering the skill...of closing his eyes and remaining calm and still in the face of adversity.

sink

2009-10-06T03:27:00.000-07:00

Let me slip, let me melt,
like butter, let me run,
through my solemn fun,
disappear, before being felt.

Let me sink, let me fall,
over the edge, the brink,
without having to think,
let me engulf me, my all.

Let me slide, let me wither,
crawl towards the door,
let me slip into forevermore,
shall i ever want to never?

想家

2009-09-20T17:56:00.000-07:00

I didn't realise how much I miss home still until I found a clip on 'how to get to The Curve' on youtube.

Seeing the familiar route back to my house, I pointed to the screen and looked to FF, exclaiming," 这个。。。这个就是去我家的路！" , my voice quivering slightly as tears welled up.

I thought about how i used to drive or how i was driven down this road. Instantly, the smell, noise and dust of that bustling street teased my five senses.

By the time I realised that I'm still a thousand miles away from home, tears are streaming down my cheeks already.

FF gave my shoulders a tight squeeze and smiled at me knowingly, ‘哎，毕竟还是一个想家的孩子啊。。。’

The Perfect Fit.

2009-09-16T05:04:00.000-07:00

It feels like i have not been able to spend time alone, recollecting my thoughts for quite some time. A lot has happened lately, from my family, to uni to our relationship, but they're mostly positive changes.

I would metaphorically describe my present state as a perfect fit in a Levi's jeans. You know those hip hugging jeans that wraps nicely around your waist and accentuating your butt. Its stretchability allows you to take a comfortable yet proud stride everytime you walk. Others need not be in your shoes to notice the difference, the satisfaction and joy just radiates from within. You're comfortable. It's not too tight, it's not too baggy, it's not too long and it's not too short. It's the perfect fit.

It has nothing to do with your figure. It's just tailored for to accommodate or correct your imperfections by first embracing them.

That's how i feel right now. After years (though a relatively short period of time) of wearing ill-fitting jeans, i am finally able to breathe in this one.

I'm in that pair of jeans right now, that allows me to be just who i am and more. The pair of jeans i can wear to attend classes, to stroll in the park, to cook in the kitchen, to lounge in my living room, to sit at a family dinner, to dance at a friend's party and to wear as PJs.

It's not expensive, just very precious and very rare to find.

0830am

2009-09-15T15:27:00.000-07:00

DON'T GO YET, I'm BACK!

It's Strike Day at RMIT. The lecturers are going on a strike for higher pay. One of their slogans read, 'Pay Up for Quality Education!' I pretend that paying up does not mean paying more, and even if it means that, international students are exempted because we are practically funding the whole university now anyways (*please do not quote me on this).

It's been a long time since I blogged and it's not that I have nothing to say, in fact, i have heaps! Time is just running ahead of me all the time these days. Well, i sort of let it does that anyways. Hence, that explains why i'm either up at 4 30am or 0630am every morning. The news that classes are canceled today came like a unfolded like a scroll from heaven! I am more than happy to come in to the library as soon as its doors open to work on our radio rough cut.

Speaking of radio....I meant to blog on that....and on Christine Germanches, the very old and sweet Macedonian lady whom we interviewed. I guess I'll tie that in my reflection after the entire project ends.

I'll have to continue later....got to go chase time again. XOXO.

乘客

2009-08-19T06:18:00.000-07:00

FF received a call when we were on our way home from dinner tonight. From the animated tone of his voice, I could tell that the party on the other line, whom I only knew then as Terry, was a dear friend of his. It didn't take longer than 30 seconds for the call to turn into the same ones I've heard the past two weeks-the goodbye call. The call from a friend to announce the eventual return to their homes. The inescapable departure from his life and his inevitable sadness. FF says he has been here long enough to see friends coming and going. Indeed, in the course of two weeks that we've been together, this is the third goodbye-call he has received. Amd each time, he would shake his head and let out a deep sigh. "你看,这就是我的人生.一个个好朋友就这样离开了..."

Terry's flight home to Shenzhen is bound at 7am tomorrow. Instantly pushing aside the pile of work and assignment that is due tomorrow, FF urged his friend to have a drink.

Terry is one the first people FF befriended when he first arrived in Melbourne. At the ripe age of 17, they attended language school and then high school together. Yet, their contacts with each other ceased as they went on to university. Soon, meeting each other was an annual affair, one that FF regreted so much.

We stood waiting for Terry at the corner of Lt. Bourke Street. I was looking out intently for a stranger, a person who i only know was tall and big. We waited in silence for more than 10 minutes, like siblings waiting to be reunited with their long lost family. "他再不来,我就要哭了呢..." FF muttered, his voice soaked in worry and impatience.

Terry appeared at last. Tall and big as described. Indeed, as if being reunited with his long lost brother, FF burst into tears, his words stumbling over his sobs. "你为什么又要回去啦...?" Clumsy words, falling over fresh flow of tears. Then he turns and introduces me. "至少他临走前可以见一见你, 这样也算了我的心愿", he said before.

We ducked into a bar and I watched and listened to their stories, as they gulp 3 shots of whiskey. FF still could not control his tears, especially when they started to reminisce about their high school days.

I excused myself to meet up with Jess and the rest, leaving them to procede to their man-to-man talk. But as I left the bar, the eulogy I had a month ago, when I thought that FF had left, came back.

Sometimes I think life is a bus ride. We sit and watch as passengers hop and off. Some passengers stay longer than others, while some get off after one stop. it does not matter how long their journey takes. What matters is that you've brought them to the destination they were meant to reach, within the allocared time. And my dear, I think that you did so with heartfelt earnestness and sincerity that is hardly ever found anymore.

Musings 2- On You.

2009-08-11T15:59:00.000-07:00

FF is feeling stressed with his project lately. His shoulders seem to be heavier now, I can feel it. Hence, on most of our outings lately, I am the chatty one, trying my very best to lift his mood up, at least for that entire hour.

Although most new relationship ought to be buzzing and exhilarating, I somehow appreciate the silence between us more. The knowing silence, punctuated by my sometimes silly, excessive and irrelevant comment on nothings. He would laugh, pat my head or pull me closer, then draw back into his thoughts on his final semester project. Then i too would retreat into that knowing silence, being grateful that such a calming silence exists.

Musings 1 - On Uni

2009-08-11T08:38:00.001-07:00

It is 0130am now and Jessie and I have just returned from Yan, Tsu-Mei and Eng Kiat's place just across the street to celebrate Yan's 26th birthday.

My mind is fully awake now as I brew myself a cup of double-bag green tea. I'm in the middle of collating the proposal for our Radio Program for Broadcast Media which will be pitched tomorrow. After a few brainstorming sessions and toying around with a few potential story leads, we decided to do a program on the recollection of two Macedonian's childhood memory. I should point out first that the theme for both our TV and Radio program is Growth. The radio program is a two-people collaboration and my assigned teammate-Megan, is a second generation Macedonian migrant. We decided to interview her father and great-aunt about their lives growing up in post-war Macedonia and as a migrant in Australia. It would be mostly recorded on location to create a sense of intimacy and closeness with our listeners. I think our concept would suit ABC Radio National 360 (our host program) because a lot of their past programs focus a lot on human interest stories. I confess, I had qualms about this project but now I feel much more positive and excited about it. Mm... Can't wait till production begins, though I hope we'd be able to get past the pitch and proposal first. I really hope to produce something substantial and professional.

Mass Media in Asia is so far my favourite course as it is one of the only research-based courses I have this semester. Besides, so far the heated debate about the viable development of an Asian-modeled journalism, its form and functions is rather interesting. This week however, we're moving on to applying normative media theories in Asia, again questioning its suffiency in analyzing Asian media. What most scholars like Altschull suggest is a transitional media theory that can change and evolve based on different socio-political and economical circumstances. I agree to that but with only one reservation- and that is a transitional media theory might be too volatile and temporal. The ability of relatively small and developing countries to cope and constantly update themselves based on this theory is hence questionable.

Communication and Social Relations has been getting a lot of bad reviews among my peers but I think it is quite alright. If you took time and pondered on each week's topic-it can be quite interesting. Take for example, this week's criticism of the ANZAC memorial. ANZAC stands for Australia-New Zealand Army Corps. The ANZAC day is is arguably Australia's most important national occasion. It marks the anniversary of the first major military action fought by Australian and New Zealand forces during the First World War. The ANZAC 'legend' is a prominent feature of Australian identity as it sees Australia coming of age as a nation. However, i too agree with some analysts that much of the excitement surrounding the ANZAC legend is overhyped. I see it as the identity of colonial Australia because the absence of the Aborigines and Women is much too strong. Furthermore, the notion that Australia has 'come of age' due to the war is very much an angle viewed through the Imperialist's lense.

There you go, my uni life in a nutshell.

2009-08-03T12:53:00.000-07:00

I once criticized a loved one for being overly cynical and for closing up his heart after previous heartbreaks. Back then, I thought that we ought to be able to pick ourselves up after each setback in a nick of time, ought to remain positive, ought to leave the past behind and treat each new relationship as if there were none before. Now i know that that is anything but an idealistic approach to love and life. Amiable, but idealistic. The truth is, after having your hand burnt once, twice by fire, your instincts prevents you from the possibility making the same mistake again. When i once floated into a relationship, I now take hesitant, apprehensive baby steps; when i once thought myself to be brave, i now find myself timid; when I once had high expectations of myself and the person I loved, I now learnt how to come with nothing, yet go away with much; when I was once complete yet empty, I am now fractured yet more wholesome; when i was thought i have to give everything, i'm now sure i don't have everything to give. I think the thing about growing up is not so much about realising your strengths, but rather, about realising your weaknesses and learning how to protect yourself from the threats of such weaknesses. Growing up is really not about being more certain. I think the older you get, the more you are aware of the trappings of life, the more you know that life gets the best of you, even when you think you're guarded-the more you are uncertain. Then again, uncertainty leads to curiosity, curiosity leads to discovery, and what if life without discovery?

Love, likewise, becomes more and more uncertain as you grow. But such uncertainty forces you to take a chance, it forces you to take a leap of faith, and isn't life itself a bet?

Sweet 16

2009-07-29T15:54:00.000-07:00

I had a date with the sixteen-year-old me last night. I went through my old photos, read my old blog posts and brought the sixteen year old me alive. It was as if she was standing there, right in front me, with all her pride and shame, fears and insecurities, hope and dreams, twirling and singing to me.

I came to discover a lot about her. She had a young strong voice, one that was muffled most of the time by her lack of confidence and the fear of what others would think of her. Nonetheless, I felt that this young girl had quite a lot to say about life and relationships around her, she was sensitive to emotions and feelings, mostly of her own. Sometimes, she rose above herself, appearing confident and self assured, other times, I see her sobbing, especially in front of her family, who ceased to notice her. Despite having sensible thoughts on humanity at times, overall this girl was naive. Her sixteen year old was structured on grids and lines, she was clear of each territory, and was sure of the consequences of crossing them. To her, black is black, white is white, the notion of grey only appeared out of sympathy and the allowance to bend the rules sometimes.

That notion, that this is a black and white world, faded in time. Much of the naivity and optimism has slowly chipped away. Some of the core attributes still remain, however, I feel like I'm still fighting the battle she fought, still pursuing her unfinished business. One of them is the acceptance by her family. If I could say anything to her, and if saying anything could have made a difference, I'd tell her to find an avenue to voice out her thoughts, I'd tell her not to be afraid to pursue her dreams, and to believe in herself more.

And I believe, if she could point to me and say something in return, it would be, "Tell it to yourself, me."

My favourite quote from me then,

"...Lonely, but not in a negative way. I'm starting to look at loneliness in a different light now. I believe that one must maintain a certain degree of loneliness in order to cherish the ones they love. Besides, it is in loneliness that we can reflect on ourselves.

Loneliness is only segregation from other human beings, by which we uphold our own distinctive identity. However, we are never truly alone because God is always with us, whether you believe it or not."

December 29th, 2006.

Leave your eyes with me

2009-07-28T22:18:00.000-07:00

Can you go away?
But leave your set of eyes
Leave your set of eyes
Follow me around all day.
Oh can you disappear?
don't come, not too near,
but leave your eyes just here.

Let your eyes follow me,
my smile, my tear
even my lingerie.
let your eyes linger, just here.
see me upside down
see me go round and round.

Oh can you take your words away?
the same old ones i hear everyday
but leave your set of eyes
leave your set of eyes, with me.
Follow me into the night
see me get into a fight
with the moon...

Leave your eyes with me
Been staring at myself all day
Saw my shadow tried to kill itself
So take my eyes away from me
But leave your eyes
Leave your eyes with me.

其實...我

2009-07-28T04:53:00.000-07:00

其實我真的很優郁
其實我可以一個人
坐著等著走著時
不經意地回想過去
眼淚安靜地流下來
可是在悲傷憤怒的
那一刻裡卻知道
大部分的眼淚流了
是因為想念你
有時候還會有點
可悲地求你也想我
很可悲
很憤怒
很悲傷
很矛盾
很想笑

Memorable Petronas Ads

2009-07-28T00:16:00.000-07:00

Bumper Issue Vol. 1 No.1

2009-07-27T23:46:00.000-07:00

"Yasmin"

If I could ever be the director of an autobiographical movie on the late Malaysian producer/director Yasmin Ahmad, my movie title would simply be named,"Ibu", because that's how I portray her in my mind- the mother who gently reminds her children about the simply yet fundamental things in life, using words and vivid images-literally.

I was only fortunate enough to have sat through a lecture given by Yasmin during my first year undergrad studies in media comm at Taylors last year. Though it was only a one hour lecture, it was condensed with a lot of simple, down-to-earth messages, mostly about coming back to the fundamentals of humanity and culturalism. A friend of mine recently posted a comment on my facebook status saying, "She is a simple lady who has a simple vision to unite all Malaysians in Malaysia." I think simplicity is beyond her vision, it's in her aura too. The way she dressed, the way she talked and the way she carries herself was so unfrivolous, so real.

One of the things that I remember Yasmin saying in the lecture was that advertisements should not be all about hard selling a product or misleading consumers. She pointed out that advertisements can make a bigger impact if they found a connection with consumers - and these connections could be about everyday things in life that people take granted for. One of the examples she gave that I would remember for life is this: A client who sold batteries wanted her to promote the fact that the new batteries had 'higher' capacity when in reality they had lowered the old batch and raised this new batch of batteries to their original capacity. The client said, 'nevermind la, the consumers won't know...' Yasmin was annoyed and said, 'the consumers include my father, my mother, my sister and the rest of my friends and family members, are you telling me to lie to them as well?'
Not many practitioners would have taken such a brave stand in the face of profit and revenue.

Yasmin's early demise does leave a void in the local film and advertising industry, but i think, as much as we grieve, we should also rejoice over the fact that in the brief moment that this angel has managed to spend on our land, she has helped open many new doors for us.

p/s: Ho Yu Hang, the rest of us are looking towards you.

"daddy daddy see what i drew?"

2009-07-23T05:55:00.000-07:00

3 Distinctions. 1 Higher Distinction.

Mum was so excited that she searched RMIT's website to find out about their grading systme. Never in my life has she been so interested in my academic results. Growing up, my parents always maintained the policy that our education is our responsibility. It doesn't matter if you came in first or last in class, as long as the apple don't fall too far away from the tree. They would be proud of you, they would beamed at all the prizes and awards, but a smile and the pride in their eyes is all you'd get. I admired this policy and would do the same to my children.

3 Ds and 1HDs is really not the best result around, i totally understand. I'm not elated or super proud myself. It's the process i seek, not the end result. Still, i reckon it isnt a bad result. I am not looking for your validation or whatever pride you have left of me. But I reckon i'd rather you not say anything than to say this, dad:

"Ok la...congratulations la Cryst...you did well. But I don't think you're the only one right? I'm sure a lot of people scored this grade too, at least 20% - 30% did?"

You don't have to say anything if you have nothing encouraging to say.

Coco Avant Chanel

2009-07-22T04:36:00.003-07:00

Most girls and women would do anything to own a Chanel. Those who can afford, would pay a price that could amount to six to eight figures for a Chanel dress or her famous tweed jacket. Others find themselves yielding to her signature fragrance-simply named No.5. Poor students like me have nothing to offer but to brave the wet and cold weather, forgoing three meals just to pay for a film about the legend, the empress of the empire herself-Mademoiselle Coco Chanel.

Although quite shamely, the movie was focused more on Chanel's love life - and the eventual lost of her true love - it did give an honest portrayal of the strong, independent and fearless woman who single-handedly shifted the paradigm of fashion in the early 20s. Audrey Tatou's portrayal of the fashion pioneer herself was convincing and strong.

It always amazes me how women like Gabrielle Bonheur Chanel were courageous enough to stand firm on their grounds, and not be affected by people or norms that shaped the society around her. One of my favourite quotes from Chanel was the one she said in Harper's Bazaar in 1923 : "Simplicity is the keynote for all true elegance".

In Chanel's own words, "There are several Duchesses in Westminster, but there is only one Chanel!"

2009-07-16T06:08:00.000-07:00

You once asked me if i reckon this will work out.

I think we might stand a chance.

All we need to do is learn how to laugh.

It's been a long time since I laughed at you and with you.

And tonight, I did. We did.

So, if you asked me again, if i reckon this will work out?

I'd say, we stand a fair chance.

All we need to do is keep breathing, keep yearning and keep laughing.

A speck of blue

2009-07-14T07:01:00.000-07:00

Tonight, I feel small.
Tiny, meagre, nothing,
but a speck of blue.
In a fiery furnace,
I'm a speck of blue,
wishing, I could live as you.
My father, my mother,
they're red,
but i'm a speck of blue,
wishing, I could breathe in you.
They're trying to speak,
trying to listen,
but i'm only a speck of blue,
wishing, I could walk with you.
I am trying.
What else can i do?
In a scarlet sea,
I'm a speck of blue,
wishing,I could see through you.
I'm a speck of blue,
hoping, to talk to you;
But most of all,
I'm a speck of blue,
yearning, to be talked to.

Cussonia Tree @ Melbourne Uni.

2009-07-11T01:15:00.000-07:00

They thought she was lost.
As she floated aimlessly from
one gate to the other,
poking her head in to any open window.
But she was merely,
letting her instincts guide her feet.
Taking in the faint smell of
acid corroded paper.
The odour of academia-
stale, sturdy and stern.

They watched her with a frown.
They mocked her curiosity.
Her romantic eyes, they hated-
how she looked at them romantically.

But she was too busy
wishing underneath the cussonia tree.
Temporarily forgetting her dispositions.
Indeed she was looking at them-
with romantic eyes.
Arrogantly they went back to sleep.

It was a cold winter's night.
Yet she remained under the cussonia tree,
and allowed the blade-like wind,
in the shape of her love's body-
to caressed her cheeks,
press itself against her bosom,
piercing deep into her naked heart.

There they made love,
the wind and she.
Under the cussonia tree-
over and over...
over and over...

I Once Wanted To Be A VJ

2009-07-09T07:41:00.000-07:00

Here's a fact that not all of you might be interested in, but if you must know, 90s RnB gets me more amorous than any amount of oysters I can feed on. If you're my potential boyfriend, i hope you're taking notes.

I've been listening to Janet Jackson's I Get Lonely and Whitney Houston's Heartbreak Hotel for the past one hour. Just these two songs, on playback non stop. It's my new red wine and chocolate.

I guess there is a big part in me that will always resonate with these songs from the 90s like how mum clicks with The Carpenters. It brings back memories, it brightens up your day, and it sure makes you snicker at youngsters these days, saying,"tsk tsk tsk, these young dopes, they ain't know nuthin' about music..." Those good old days of MTV Pop Charts , Channel V's American Billboard. Those days when VJ Sonia, Asha, Jamie, Donita and Utt were my role models, those endless practises I had being a VJ in front of my toilet mirror.

Ahh. I will come up with a list of songs that you can play anytime of the day, any amount of times you want and I'd still be bopping my head along. But for now, I'm going to play those two songs again before I hit the sheets.

07.07.09

2009-07-07T07:03:00.000-07:00

Overwhelmed. Touched. Inspired.

In order of the gifts that I've received, I'd like to thank:

Xiuxiu. Thank you for your sweet journal that has been personalised with my name on it. I really wanted a journal so I was really happy and touched when I opened your parcel.

William. Thank you for the Vittoria Stove Top Coffee Maker. It was one of the things one my wish list and i didn't know how you found that out. I was actually eyeying it on Woolworths Online Catalogue. I'll make you a cup of espresso as soon as i master it k? Promise.

Hann, for your call. Wish you were here. All the time.

Yik Han, Yi Hui, Jing Harn, Derek and Dong Xiao for ambushing me at 1230 am with a cake and trick candles. It took me 4 try-s to finally blow them all out! =) Was so close to tears though. Touched is an understatement.

Jun. Your timely present is really practical and useful!! Thanks so much and yes, I recognized your writing instantly!! =) hhahaha!! Messy and written with Love. Thanks dear!! I am wearing the socks now btw. Haha.

Jessie. Thanks not only for being a wonderful housemate and colleague. For all your patience and kindness. Thanks for your mug and the burrett!! Thanks to Tim, Antonia, William, Tee (Lipton) too!

Tsu Mei and Chris. Thank you for your Winnie the Pooh slippers. It looks so warm and comfy!! Hee! Now Jiajia cannot say anything about me walking like an elephant.

Yan. Thank you for the daisies, of which you do not know yet that is my favourite flower. And....i cant believe you really bought it....but the Il Papiro Leather Journal is beautiful. It really is! Thank you so so much dear friend.

2009-07-06T09:13:00.000-07:00

I GOT AMBUSHED

2009-07-06T08:43:00.000-07:00

... I GOT AMBUSHED BY MY CMG MATES!!! IN MY LEOPARD-PRINT PJs!!! ... BUT I'M SO TOUCHED AND I ALMOST CRIED AND I'M WRITING IN CAPS BECAUSE DEEP DOWN I'M STILL TOUCHED AND HAPPY!!!...THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!

The Day Before I Turn 20

2009-07-06T06:47:00.000-07:00

Yes, this is the post about the day before I turn twenty. Yes, twenty, not twenty-one, not twenty-something(I have to constantly remind my new friends who constantly reminds me that I'm not acting my age enugh).

The day before I turn twenty, I spent the whole day in the shoes of a full-time housewife. To be more specific, I walked in the shoes of a Vietnamese migrant-housewife attempting to cook an Indonesian dish. To illustrate this otherwise confusing and absurd disposition, I have to go back to the wise idea i proposed last Friday. Upon seeing the TV ad of MJ's Last Concert airing on Channel 7, I turned to Jessie and said, "hey, let's order Pizza and watch MJ's concert on TV next Monday. We can call Yan and Tsu Mei over!" Our heads bopped up and down excitedly. 5 minutes later, I said, "Nah forget Pizza, I'll cook." I cooked last week as a result of my PMS and everyone seemed pleased, i just had to smother everyone with my motherly love once more! Snort. Yea right. Anyways...I decided to try my hands at Indonesian cuisine this time, in honour of Yan. He's the second person I know who's as excited about Tempe as I am so he earned it.

Don't ask me how and why the combination of MJ and Gado-gado came about, besides both being very mixed and confused. I've only heard of Gado-gado, and all i know is that it is similar to our Malaysian Pasembur or Indian Rojak, because Peanut Sauce is the base of both dishes.

For the Vietnamese part, it was because I had to take a tram down to Richmond-one of the suburbs that has a relatively large Vietnamese community (i will blog about it next time, makes me miss my Vietnamese friends back home) to do my marketing. Victoria Market is closed on Mondays and Wednesdays. I bought a Mortar at one of the Asian groceries (actually, only Asian groceries exist in that area). I know, I'm a poor student who is about to get poorer very very soon, but I felt that the Mortar would be a good investment. It's like listenin to LPs, something is just different.

I'm off topic again. Bottom line is, I spent the whole afternoon in the kitchen, pounding my own Sambal Belacan, boiling Dried Longan Tong Sui and my Gado-gado. Whew. It was more work than I anticipated. But it was well worth it, especially seeing the homesickness on Yan's face. MJ rocked the house too, as always. With Jiajia away, we could finally crank our TV volume up t0 50 and scream our hearts out.

It's fifteen pass 12 now. I've turned twenty according to Australian time. My phone line is open and I'm really hoping you'll call.

1215am and I'm talking to you and i'm happy.

Hallmark Moments

2009-07-05T00:41:00.000-07:00

Jessie, Tsu-Mei and her friends and I went to Hawthorn Craft Market today. It's a craft market that takes place only every first Sunday of the month. It wasn't a big one but i did managed to buy really beautiful hand painted birthday cards for my family. Actually, i can't wait till November to send them out. Jess said I could send them the cards out of spontaneity. I bit my lower lip and pondered for a minute. It would be a really wild gesture but maybe it is called for. Maybe the spontaneity will mend wounds faster. Maybe i should get over the conservativeness and the rigidity that were possibly the cause of the problem in the first place.

"'Just thinking of you dad..." "Just missing you mum..."

Since when have we fallen into the close-minded mould that many traditional Chinese families were created from? Since when was it such a taboo for us to say we love each other among ourselves. Why do my hands tremble and my lips quiver slightly whenever mum hands the phone over to dad? Or why do i half-wish that dad won't be everytime I call? Sad, isn't it? But that's what we've been reduced to.

You think I should send that card soon don't you? I know you do. I can feel your heaad nodding.

p/s: I can only take photos of the stuff that i bought tomorrow as my SD card is with someone else.

Hole 空洞 : Part 1

2009-07-04T06:19:00.000-07:00

I once had a hole.
A big, fat, round hole.
A dark, black, bottomless hole.
It had no beginnings,
needed no end.
Just a long tube of empty sorrows.
Not a stranger who wanted to be a friend.
Not a friend who acted like a stranger.
Just a hole. A non-pretentious hole.
I had a hole.
To talk to.
To shout and screamed at.
To whisper to.
To stick my head in and
learn how to stop breathing.
A hole that was mine.
A hole that was there, rain or shine.
A hole than embraced me,consumed me,
suffocated me with a wave of nothingness.
A whirpool of madness that sucked me in.
Still i came back for more...

Questions I Hate Answering

2009-06-30T22:49:00.000-07:00

These are questions I really don't like answering these days, especially coming from certain someones:

1. Where did you go?

2. What are you going to eat later?

3. What are you going to eat tonight? (at 3pm)

4. What did you eat just now? (See how annoying this is? and they're all coming from the same person)

5. So, what are you going to do now?

6. How's your holiday?

7. What are your plans this holiday?

(ok, these two questions i dislike because it has been asked by too many people,too many times already and even I am guilty of posing these questions)

Really Jacko, it don't matter if you're black or white.

2009-06-29T04:10:00.000-07:00

I've been contemplating to publish this post for a while because i know that what follows is nothing but of redundancy, and to a slight extent, conformity. But they say if you beat 'em, join 'em, hence this is my personal tribute to the King of Pop, with full awareness that, like all Greats, his passing does not signify the end of his reign; but the beginning of a whole new chapter on the domination of the King in the world of Pop-culture.

It was the early morning of Friday, 26th of June 2009, that the news of his death that I witnessed via the tube caused my teeth to clatter against my coffee cup. The headlines that shouted, "Michael Jackson dies of cardiac arrest", followed by the image of a hoard of reporters gathering around the King on stretches jolted me up from my half-sleep. Of course, i noticed the trailing subheadlines at the bottom that read," Farah Fawcett dies of cancer at age 62", but, even an "Angel's" glory comes second to a "King's" (Yet both lose out in importance to the "Queen" of Hearts. The media frenzy and coverage of Princess Di's death is still unbeatable in modern history.

My earliest fascination (not that i was an avid fan to begin with) with Michael Jackson began when dad brought home the making of Jackson's Dangerous World Tour Video. Those were stll the days of VCR and I was actually excited over the fact that I was able to watch videotapes other than Beauty and the Beast and Lion King. STill, it was my very first exposure to Pop culture. Much to my mum's horror, i watched the moon-walking, crotch-clutching King of Pop glide across the stage, as fans across the world cried, screamed and pulled their hairs, while others passed out. I still remember gazing starry-eyed at Jackson's shimmering gloves and military jacket, and trying to imitate his "Hiccups" at the end of every line he sings. I have yet to master his 'Owhs' and "Tererrap-Tap-Tap, Terrerrap-Tap-Tap".

It was also the beginning of my fascination with music videos. Now kids, back in those good ol' days, music videos were more than Rappers in oversized T-shirts and Blings that would make you partially blind if you stare too long, spanking the behinds of half naked girls. They were directed by great directors like Martin Scorcese (whom directed Jackson's "Bad" video in case you didnt know. Dont even bother asking me who Scorsese is ok?). Most of Jackson's video had a strong theme and a plot to follow. Even superstars casted in them- Eddie Murphy as the Egyptian in "Do you remember?" and Macaulay Culkin as the boy who blew his own house up in "Black or White". Now, i'm not a super great fan as mentioned before, but i do love his music videos.

Bashfully i have to confess too, that it Jackson who first introduce me to the world of enamour and love making (i am polite enough not to use the S-word at least). His kissing scene with Pharoah's wife in "Do You Remember" left a lot to my 8-year-old imagination to figure out.

This was my earliest memory of Michael Jackson and the impact he made on me (i know i know, everyone's coming out to admit they had a Jackson-phase in their life, why can't I?} It was only later in life that i found out that my mother's version of the King of Pop was vastly different from mine. While the Jackson i came to know was the sleek moving and sensual pop sensation, my mum fondly remembers him as the innocent yet charming young lead singer of the Jackson 5, who melted hearts by belting out to hits like "Ben" and "ABC" in his high pitch, unadultered voice.

I am sure 20 years down the road, my children will be asking me the same question every child in their generation would ask my generation "Who was Michael Jackson, Ma?" And rest assured, just like how my generation came to know about Elvis Presley, see his movies and sing his songs; they will too gaze starry-eyed at the man who moon-walked into their lives.

2009-06-17T05:02:00.000-07:00

What's it like to come home
and tell someone
about the old man on the train
who kept calling out his lover's name?
What's it like to come home
and tell someone
about a song you heard today
the one about snow falling in May?
What's it like to share a life
not an imaginary life
a life that contains jostling people
shuffling feet, passing trains
tired shoulders, cold hands
a cup of coffee, a stolen seat
blue skies, strong winds
a dream that's too big
you asked me how my day was
and with 15 words or less to spare
i could only tell you
that a bird that flew by
keeping its sharp red beak
and opaque blue feathers to myself
i did more than laugh today
i did more than cry today
i did more than eat today
i did more than sleep today
i did so much more than that
i need you to know, that i
i did so much more than that.

I Have The Sun In My Room

2009-06-12T01:25:00.000-07:00

Although my winter break has started and it seems like a good time to go out and about, the cold, chilly weather is not very encouraging. Once i come home, the first thing i do is rush to my room, turn on the heater, and just bask in the comfort of warmness-as if i have the sun kept in room. It's an advantage that we don't have to pay for utilities here at Rooms, it means abusive use of heater!

Still, i am not going to waste my precious winter break. First up my list of things to do are to read the books that I've bought recently, discover more cafes, and hopefully get out further into the suburbs.

Disappointments

2009-06-09T04:32:00.000-07:00

Hi Mum!

Attached is the 2nd semester fee invoice from RMIT. Total amount is AUD x which must be paid before 30th June 2009 .

I think it's cheaper, safer and faster if I paid it through my BPAY (online banking) account. Hence you can just transfer the money to me and I will make the payment. (and no worries, i won't use the money to fly to Bahamas the next day).

On a lighter note, how's your day so far? I have a meeting with my lecturer at 1pm later. After that, it's holiday for me! Wee!! .... Well, more like Brr actually. It's so wet and cold here. =(

Alright, that's all for now. Hope you have a wonderful, blessed day today!

Love,
Cryst

Hi Crystal,

Can do..will direct transfer the money to you in next few days.
Take care...yah and don't fly to BAHAMAS. Dad & koko is fine here.
Had a chat with Dad last nite ...and he happy with koko career and
said his only hope is to that Crystal will marry a decent guy in the
future...that is your DAD ok..funny at times..haha

Regards,
Karen Ong

My heart plunged after reading mum's reply. As much love, wit and good-intentions it contained, I found myself thanking God that it wasn't a live conversation.

My fingers lay still on the keyboard for a long time, as if my hands were binded by cuffs. But my mind wasn't blank, in fact, on the contrary, they were racing with several answers:

1. I can be a sarcastic,rebelious idiot by replying:
" Thanks mum. Tell dad I agree with him and hope i can marry a man as loyal and faithful to his wife as he is."

or

2. I can be a wimpy, no nuts wuss by saying:
" Thanks... mum ... I...I am so sorry....and yes, I hope i can marry a decent man and not the rock and roll drug addict i dated back then...what was i thinking? i was so naive mum... you should have slapped me harder..."

or i can i can use the "wild" card and make a "no comment" statement:
3. "Thanks mum! That's great. I'm happy you and dad had a nice conversation. Oh by the way, have you ever noticed that Banana was yellow in colour? I just realised today. How interestig!"

I thought for a while, and in the end simply replied,

Thanks mum, that'd be great! =) Send my love to dad and koko too.

I'm off to clean my room and the apartment now! It looks like a war zone
between paper and books.

Missing you guys much!

Love,
Crystal

It was a safe, earnest answer that combined the elements of all the possible answers above.

Housekeeping

2009-05-31T05:19:00.000-07:00

Clarification from Jimmy: It is north-eastern chinese cuisine and the name of that dessert is 拔丝地瓜.

Sweet Potato Glazed in Balsamic Vinegar & Honey

2009-05-30T00:35:00.000-07:00

One of my most memorable lunch outings with Jimmy was when went to an authentic Southern Chinese cuisine in KL last year. Noting the sweet tooth that I have, it was the sweet potato dipped in molasses and water that stood out among the rest of the dishes. The sinfully sweet combination of the warm crispy sweet potato and molasses. I was particularly excited at seeing how the molasses hardened after dipping it into a bowl of water. Anyways, my lunch today of baked sweet potato glazed with balsamic vinegar-honey is a reminiscence of that dish and that oddly memorable afternoon.

Back in the kitchen

2009-05-28T02:52:00.000-07:00

In the middle of working on my essay, I got hit by the stress bug.SO what do I do? I cook. Yes. And it's been a long time since i did (i don't count chopping vegetables and mixing tomyam paste with water as cooking). Anyway, i was quite satisfied with the outcome of this so you can give it a try....but at your own risk ok?

What you need...

julliened carrot
julliened celery
sliced white onions
julliened ginger
julliened red chilli
chopped garlic
organic udon
canned straw mushrooms

Seasoning:
1 tablespoon oyster sauce (or less)
1/2 tablespoon of soy sauce (estimation)
pinch of salt
pinch of pepper
oil

Boil udon (careful not to overcook) then set aside. Heat the wok. Add in oil. Sir fry the garlic, ginger and chilli, then add in the rest of the veggies. Add some water. Throw in the noodles. Sdd in mushrooms. Add in seasoning. Stir fry then serve.

Go easy with the ginger and chilli if you dont like it to be spicy. I think capsicum would be a good substition for any one of the veggies above too.

i want to wake up like this

2009-05-27T16:56:00.000-07:00

Like warm milk,
gurgling at the corner
of a satisfied baby's grin.
The odour of a baby's breath
an exudation of dawn
over the shortcomings of life
An incense named life.

As sunlight nestle among us,
our white cotton sheets
still wet with the dew
of last night's dreams.
A dream that trails off
at our entertwined feet

Before the jostle of a busy street
the demands of a sturdy work desk,
the pot of coffee,
brewing on a burning stove,
or even freshly buttered scones
Before the anticipation of these,
attempts to steal my attention away;
I cushion my cheek against your chest
and You...
You smell like...
Like warm milk,
Like baby's breath to me.

I think you belong in North Pole

2009-05-26T19:08:00.000-07:00

ARGH. I seldom do this but I need to do it lest I will resort to do something that repel the values of which i was taught as a child even more. And that involves a fist, a hefty punch and a bloody nose.

I mean seriously? This is a shared apartment, you pay just as much as i do. You know a very quite public space that is very quiet? Hint. It starts with "L" and rhymes with You-Are-Crazy.

Do I think the music was loud? NO. I should've just played Metallica and blast it at full volume. Colbie Callait? At 60% volume from my Laptop? Mind you, it's 12pm. You might as well tell the birds outside to shut up.

While you're at it, can you also for once take the initiative to clean up the stove after you cook, or wash the clothes, or take out the rubbish, just once?! The cleaners come just once a week, who is the cleaner of the house the rest of the week? Yours truly. But it's fine, I enjoy doing it. So we'll leave that part out.

But coming back to your zero tolerance level, may i remind you, this is a communal living space and I dont think I am a loud housemate, you can bring in a judge, I am ready to be judged.

Seriously?!!

2009-05-26T04:36:00.000-07:00

She saw it
the shadow that trailed the heels of his feet,
as he limbly walked out of the door,
pulled a monkey face and stuck its tongue out.

She saw it
battered, dreary, even phobic.
a simple web of misplaced affections
wounded agressions, misnterpreted semiotics
an entanglement that has been prodded, knotted
twice, three, too many times.

She saw it
She even cajoled it, pleaded, forgiven,
yet a step taken behind remains unjustifiable.
temporary withdrawal, however dignified
on the surface, hesitant in the core
remains an unforgiven act of betrayal.

She saw it
hence she cut the wound that pained her
and blood spewed like a fountain of secrets.
if any did she erradicate,
was not of the pleasurement of
seeing it wither, but of
the impingement of her child-likeness.
However ironic this may be,
she was liberated from her age of innocence,
yet shackled by a new found immaturity.

She saw it
the departure of a traveller
whose fingers,
dance on cow's skin for a living
embark on a journey
that once
led him to her.

Where's Crystal?

2009-05-26T02:33:00.000-07:00

Right here! I got caught up reading golden updates from Xiu and Ana that I decided to drop one in too.

The place I spent most of time in the past week is...
My room. My tiny 10m * 12m room.

My closest companions were...
My laptop. My bed. Anita Desai's Fasting, Feasting.

What did I do that I now regret?
Procrastinating. Being in complete denial.

What did I not do that I now regret?
Not watch Changeling. One more out of the 3 movies I've watched couldn't hurt.

I've been a Movie/TV Buff because...
I watched Star Trek, Slumdog Millionaire and Valkyrie...and Season 1 of How I Met Your Mother and Russel Peter's Red, Brown and... (oh forget it, i can never remember the freakin title!)

Something I've done that I'm not very proud of...
That I've been a movie buff...not at this crucial hour in time.

Something I've done that I'm proud of...
I returned $30 to Nick at the record store for giving me extra change.

I strongly recommend...
1. Watching Slumdog Millionaire.
2. Reading Anita Desai's Fasting, Feasting
3. Running on the threadmill while listening to Slumdog Millionaire's Movie Soundtrack--Track 1 to be precise.

All the lonely people

2009-05-19T02:33:00.000-07:00

(www.photo-visible.com, 2009)

Kelvin, 23, uses the blue public phone to call his own mobile. His msn status reads: Can someone call me, just say hi or how are you? For 9 years, he had been receiving calls from the one same girl.

David, 34, calls a 20 year old undergrad to ask if they can go out again some time. He, a sound designer, had hoped to pick up some signals by listening to her tone of voice over the phone.

Crystal, 20, does not want to call anybody or receive any calls tonight. For she knows all she would do is listen to that one familiar voice, tears streaming down her cheeks.

科科

2009-05-19T02:30:00.000-07:00

MR TOUGH- 快乐王子 says:
su en?
redpepper says:
hey
redpepper says:
how are u?
MR TOUGH- 难过的快乐王子，还快乐吗？ says:
haha
MR TOUGH- 难过的快乐王子，还快乐吗？ says:
tis shall be my question wei
MR TOUGH- 难过的快乐王子，还快乐吗？ says:
how r u?
MR TOUGH- 难过的快乐王子，还快乐吗？ says:
honestly
redpepper says:
not so good
redpepper says:
honestly
redpepper says:
u dont sound too good too
redpepper says:
honestly
MR TOUGH- 难过的快乐王子，还快乐吗？ says:
haha
MR TOUGH- 难过的快乐王子，还快乐吗？ says:
honestly
MR TOUGH- 难过的快乐王子，还快乐吗？ says:
i am not tat good too
MR TOUGH- 难过的快乐王子，还快乐吗？ says:
two sad fellow meet in msn....maybe will becum happy

2009-05-18T19:25:00.001-07:00

Have you ever felt like talking without saying anything? That's exactly how i feel. I wish i can book a session with someone to talk about the past two and a half years and the suitcase of unfilfilled promises and dreams still lying under my bed.

Is that what I'm after? The fulfillment of fulfilling an unfulfilled desire? Of reclaiming a love that has been short lived? The quest to find out what it's like to position ourself in a functional relationship? To find out what's it really like to be with you seven days in a week, to go on a proper date, to function normally as a couple.

Will i stop thinking about you when i brush shoulders with another who wears the same perfume as you? When i hold another's hands, would I forget how our fingers would draw circles in each other's palms?

I always say, our relationship is constructed and sustained by conflicts. If my observation is true, then, am I after the resolution of these conflicts, once and for all?

I want to talk without saying anything. Does anyone know the art of listening without hearing?

談

2009-05-18T05:06:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I do seek a listener. Someone that does not listen to the words from my mouth, but from my heart. Someone who has seen it all, someone who understands what I don't.

Maybe i thought for once you will be the wall i can lean on, and for once i don't have to provide the answers. Maybe i expected you to say, go ahead, I will wait, I will stay because i think you're worth it, I wont regret it.

So maybe i am not worth it. I am sure i am not.

Just leave if you want to. I don't want to play tug of war anymore.

How Well Do You Know Me?

2009-05-13T18:05:00.000-07:00

A new wave of 'How Well Do You Know XXX?' trivia has begun to rock the boats of Facebook users like me as I found myself falling victim to one of the forms of subtle interrogation I hate most. I can equate the same feeling of tension and anxiety of answering such questionnaires to the same emotions experienced during a final exam. Why? Because the proposers of these questionnaires, often closed friends and loved ones, usually demands a high score on the You-Know-Me-Well pedometer. Friendship,loyality and trust is put to the ultimate test by seemingly important questions that is assumed to be a known fact by now. I am not considered a Good-Enough or a Close-Enough friend if I don't know what your favourite number is. The tension and conflict heightens when it comes to lovers, because for lovers, the difficulty level is raised as intimacy level increases. My knowledge of you, my lover should range from the flavour your first birthday cake to what you had for lunch an hour ago. Any struggle over easy questions such as 'Where did we first meet?' or 'What were our first spoken words?' will be dealt in with unforgiving doubt over the 'sincerity' of my love to you. Loyality and betrayal will come into the ugly argument... 'How could you not remember the colour of my bra on the first night??! Are you seeing someone else??!!'
'

The grass in not greener on the 'Girlfriends' or "BFF-Best friends forEVA" clique. Knowing that female bondings are depended so heavily on loyality and The Secret Girls Code... one will be axed for not knowing her BFF's favourite seafood faster than you can even say SUSHI.

I sound like the grim reaper i know but i really dislike answering these questions as much as i hate asking them. Haha. Self denial... i dont want to be disappointed. Hope you wont be too.

COMING UP: Well then, how well do YOU know YOU?

喜歡

2009-05-10T15:41:00.000-07:00

張懸-喜歡

/ 喜歡 /

片段中有些散落
有些深刻的錯
還不懂這一秒鐘
怎麼舉動; 怎麼好好地和誰牽手

那寂寞有些許不同
我挑著留下沒說
那生活還過分激動, 沒什麼我已經以為能夠把握

而我不再覺得失去是捨不得
有時候只願意聽你唱完一首歌
在所有人事已非的景色裡
我最喜歡你

片段中有些散落
有些深刻的錯
就快懂這一秒鐘
怎麼舉動怎麼好好和你過

那寂寞有些許不同
我挑著留下沒說
那生活還過分激動, 沒什麼我已經以為能夠把握

你知道
你曾經讓人被愛並且經過
畢竟是有著怯怯但能給的沉默
在所有不被想起的快樂裡
我最喜歡你

而我明白覺得失去是捨不得
有時候只願意聽你唱完一首歌
在所有人事已非的景色裡
我最喜歡你

而我不再覺得...
而我不再覺得...

This to me, is Infinity.

2009-05-08T23:02:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think you and I are both trapped in a white empty room with a white-washed wall that touches a borderless ceiling and reaches out into infinity.

As much as we try to escape from this room, we often find ourselves locked in, staring mindlessly at the colourless wall, weeping.

We weep at the infiniteness that lay beyond this wall. The infinite sadness and hopelessness juxtaposing the childish fantasies it once displayed.

Sometimes, I yell at this wall, and my voice reverberates across the infinity. The wall yell backs at me, its voice hollow, echoing my very own innuendo, making a fool out of everyone in the room but me.

But i don't mean to kick and scream at it. It once and still does hang beautiful portraits of you and I. Yet there is something cynical about the way this infinite beauty reaches out to no where. There is something cynical behind the smiles of the young couple in the portrait. Temporality guises the price one has to pay for such infinite beauty.

What if there was no end? What if there was a wall just as white and just high behind this one that was facing us? What if we escaped out of this yet find ourselves trapped in another room as similar as this? What if our presence here was a result of running from the same circumstances before? What if we never got out?

But what if we do? What if we finally found the way out but never find the way to stop finding the way out?

This to me, is infinity. You and I, we're infinity.

Hoyts!

2009-05-08T10:19:00.000-07:00

Trust Yan to surprise me again. At the start of the week we actually planned to watch Wolverine (downloaded leaked version). My idea of this Friday night was dinner then home to watch the movie... but trust Yan to come up with the most 'BTW' stunt. He called me after work, told me the Japanese dinner reservation was done (i left the reservations to him) and ... 'oh, by the way, I've got the tickets to watch the movie at Hoyts yea...'

Pause. Hoyts is the GSC or Tanjung...oh well, it's the GSC of Melbourne. Located at Melbourne Central (which is a train station/shopping mall...think KL Sentral meet The Curve) I've always wanted to watch a movie at Hoyts and hence felt blessed to be able to do it tonight. We had Japanese dinner, then coffee and less-than-worthy Tiramisu and movie at Hoyts. I think X-men is still the best but it was not bad.

After the movies, I went to meet up with Kelvin, Ivan, Zune Hsien and their friends at Purple Emerald, our favourite jazz lounge. Well, it has been two weeks since I saw them and since I've been alcohol free, so despite the drizzle and the fact that I had to come back to get my passport, I made it a point to meet up with them. Kinda miss hanging out with that. Yet at the back of my mind, i also kinda missed the eyes of the drunken philosopher whom as usual was not present.

I don't like this post at all but i don't want to scrape off what I've just typed. It's 3am now and it's still drizzling outside.

Thanks again Yan for the wonderful dinner and movie. I can definitely get used to these surprises. Back then, I was usually the one doing the planning and pulling the surprises, it's nice to be genuinely surprised.

First love never dies, haven't you heard?

2009-05-07T06:32:00.000-07:00

It's great that we are talking again. As usual except not normal. I like it this way actually, finally, without the longing, worries, hope, stress... but rather, two adults, coming to terms with whatever that once bound them together.

First love never dies. Haven't you heard?

<>

2009-05-07T05:51:00.000-07:00

Kudos to UniMelb's Chinese Theatre Group for their Canton production satirically titled <>. It was entertaining and as the title implies, very much vulgar (I still can't get over the phone sex scene where the male character 'masturbates' himself) Nonetheless, it was one of those few plays that managed to make me laugh out loud, and at times, gaping in horror. There were a few glitches in the acting and sound effects, but overall i think it was very commendable. With approximately 60 short scenes, it manages to sail below the wave of complexity, which many plays that tries to do too much end up doing. I am unfamilar with Hong Kong society but i think a lot of messages that was hidden in the play could be applied accross cultural boundaries. I particularly like the <> scenes that intercepted in between the main scenes. All the while, i kept wishing Xiang or Hands team were there to enjoy it with me.

Shades of Grey

2009-05-05T07:04:00.000-07:00

A guest lecturer at General News Reporting class yesterday said something that struck a chord within me. He said, "The world is painted in shades of grey." I thought it was a beautiful yet apt thing to say, because most matters of the world fall into a grey area. Mankind's progression is built upon volatile theories and idealism, depending on the dominant powers of a certain era. No absolute freedom or democracy exist in this world. Authoritarian ruling is justified in the name of maintaning social order. Democracy, liberalization, postcolonialism is often disguised in a veil neocolonialism. The constitution does not protect one's freedom to a certain extent. The enforcement of law is often misconstrued by layers of obstrusion, often under the grips of power and greed. We all know that the mass media is a significant platform for the ruling power of a nation state to practise hegemony through political and social discourse.

On a daily basis, men as the individual self constantly battles with his innermost enemy. The conflict usually arises as a result of his organic compulsion to shift between the lines. Our likings for roses today may evolve into an obsession with daffodils tomorrow. The human mind is a complex dimentia, one that does not rely only on reasoning (though philosophers may argue otherwise, but how many of us out there are actually Aristotles or Proust?) but on emotions. Hence, the never ending cycle of questioning, arguing and counter-arguing begins.

Even Morality does not exist in totality. With so many moral theories to consider, men faces a "moral dilemma" when reasoning and justification of the 'rightness' of his conduct.

However, it is this aspect of greyness in our lives that makes it interesting. If there weren't questions, there would certainly not be answers, even though these answers are not necessarily solutions. I shall share with you Billy Joel's song called 'Shades of Grey'...

Some things were perfectly clear,
seen with the vision of youth
No doubts and nothing to fear,
I claimed the corner on truth
These days it's harder to say
I know what I'm fighting for
My faith is falling away
I'm not that sure anymore

Shades of grey wherever I go
The more I find out the less that I know
Black and white is how it should be
But shades of grey are the colors I see

Once there were trenches and walls
and one point of every view
Fight 'til the other man falls
Kill him before he kills you
These days the edges are blurred,
I'm old and tired of war
I hear the other man's words
I'm not that sure anymore

Shades of grey are all that I find
When I look to the enemy line
Black and white was so easy for me
But shades of grey are the colors I see

Now with the wisdom of years
I try to reason things out
And the only people I fear
are those who never have doubts
Save us all from arrogant men,
and all the causes they're for
I won't be righteous again
I'm not that sure anymore

Shades of grey are all that I find
when I look to the enemy line
There ain't no rainbows shining on me
Shades of grey are the colours I see

Shades of grey wherever I go
The more I find out the less that I know
There ain't no rainbows shining on me
Shades of grey are the colors I see

Reminiscence

2009-05-02T14:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, we let our minds wander into places they shouldn't be. Images, sounds, actions touch a nerve in our brains and a flashback of memories surges from wherever they came from.

Just as I stand in the crowd before a live jazz band, my eyes fixates on the percussionist and even though I see his deft hands thump the surface of the djembe or congo, it is not that percussionist, a stranger, that I hear, but him instead. The rhythm resonates with the one engraved in my mind. Those hands are brought to live, it takes center stage in my mind.

I turn to the one beside me and say,'My ex, he plays a mean piece of latin percussions too...'

The Bar at Buena Vista

2009-05-02T06:29:00.000-07:00

When Yan showed up with a box of chocolates, I knew my notion of the tonight's date was wrong. I don't think anyone has ever given me chocolates on a date nor do I think I've ever been on a date as 'complete' as tonight's in my life, IF this is to be considered a date to begin with.

We had to tweak our initial plans for the night because the Cuban-Indian fusion restaurant I suggested had (according to Yan who went all to St Kilda to check) had turned into a bar. The Japanese and Mexican restaurant that came up subsequently on our list were fully booked too. We finally found ourselves in a corner of Cafe Andiamo at Degreaves Street.

The Bar at Buena Vista is considerably one of the best concerts I've seen. The props and costumes really transported us back to Havana in the 50s. Te audience were enthralled by two hours of Cuba's Grandfathers of Son such as Reynaldo Creagh,Maracaibo, Maestro Rubalcalba and Siomara Avilla Valdes Lescay...all of whom are friends of the late grammar award winning Son Legend--Ibrahim Ferrer. Mind you, all these Stars are well over 80 years of age...the oldest being 91 years old...yet they were dancing and singing away. You have to be there to understand...all i can say is, if they were to ever come back to Melbourne, you can count me in.

I had a great time and Yan was a great company. Here are some pictures as illustration.

Waddle

2009-05-01T18:39:00.000-07:00

There is something about contentious, ambiguous one female-one male friendships that unnerves me. Particularly more at the stage I'm in, i find such acquaintances fun but horrifying at the same time. Horrifying because firstly, they are formed on the basis of first impressions and first impressions are fragile and unreliable. For instance, he/she has a nice smile, hence he/she is a nice person is not a very firm judgment. The fragility of first impressions subsequently leads to greater disappointment, which brings me to my second point. Such friendships are usually pursued with an intention, a hope, like the longing for a relationship, we hope that a particular person would make us complete. This hope then quickly fizzles away into disappointment once the knowledge of something we would rather not know surfaces. Thirdly, and this is my based on my standings and my standings alone, they remind me too much of a past relationship or they seem to have elements that overlap or override the past, both of which i do not want.

Hence though I think it will be cool to swing by Essendon one day, have coffee, listen to your LP's, sip wine by the fire side, listen to you play your guitar, have Japanese dinner together... i think it would be better if there was no romanticism involved...or the false illusion that this could be going anywhere...

Saturday Late Morning @ VSL

2009-05-01T18:22:00.000-07:00

I intended to stay in and finished de Botton's Essays in Love last night, but i achieve no progress. I did stay in, but was sidetracked. Anyways,I'm back at the VSL (Victoria State Library) on a Saturday morning again, vowing to finish the book before I surrender it back to Ballieu next tuesday.

I miss home and my family very much. Yesterday, I braced myself to text daddy in the afternoon because I have not spoken to him in a month since he's always travelling. it's one of humanities greatest irony i think, how absence makes the heart grow fonder.

There is something magical about yearning for home, for familiar faces, but then magic evaporates when you eventually get to that state. Just like how I think and miss my family a lot lately, and even think of corny things to say to them, but as soon as I'm on the phone with them, the tone of voice i project fails to portray that deep sense of longing and love. An invisible wall is erected out of no where, and that magical feeling i suppressed by formalities constructed long ago. Still, the warm feeling still manages to nuzzle through moments when mum would call to ask if my cough is better, or when she keeps going through the list of things to bring for me when they visit, or when she tells me that everyone in the office loves her new bag and hence she wants to buy one for me too ("What colour do you want? White? Oh yes, I think white is nicer..." )

Mothers day is coming up and I have already prepared my card...but i hope the magic will be projected across through post.

I have cool Techies!

2009-05-01T15:27:00.000-07:00

For a short period of time I had a small crush on the Technicians who operate 'underground' at Building 6. Seth, our EMT lecturer, calls them Gods and they really are, and they're the buoys you want to cling unto if you can't swim in the sea of technologies. Anyways, I've posted up two sites which are theirs (Kowshowko's is Martin, who is a tall Polish guy with a subtle Polish accent) and the other is David's (a local who's very much into Asian culture)

http://www.koshowko.com/

http://sites.google.com/site/modifyconstruct/modcon/mixes

Typolution

2009-04-28T18:00:00.001-07:00

Here's an interesting video I've found on Youtube recently. I like the angles the video designer took and I think it conveys various messages on several levels. Of course one of the obvious ones would probably be about the environment and greenhouse effect in the eyes of a media practitioner. The other is the evolution of typology where an artist clusters things of the same nature/type in a group or a series. In this case, the video designer used three groups: numbers, alphabets and nature (i.e trees, flowers). The third is the importance of words and figures and how they affect our lives. Words work as double edge sword, sometimes good, sometimes bad, hence the representation of the sun and acid rain. But brushing all of these aside, i think it is a rather good animation. Also note that the soundtrack is Ratatat's 'Norstrand'.

Loud Pipes

2009-04-28T14:56:00.000-07:00

Morning. It's 0755am and I'm already in the computer labs. I've got to start working on my EMT Movie Mashup, and I can't brace myself in the cold windy nights to come to the labs so I decided I'd start the day off early. And since I'm here and it's not yet 8am, i decided to take advantage of the fast speed to stream some youtubes. I was chatting with one of the techies on Msn last night (David Stanley...a cool nice guy who's into Asian culture...anyways, techies are the coolest people and they are demi-gods to me). David told me to check out this vid by Jimi Hendrix but i didnt have the latest flash player...so i decided to check it out today. While i was at it, I found Ratatat's Loud Pipes. What a good track to kick start a day!

Do yourself a favour and listen to it please.

Ok. Got to go. Why am i doing quarterly logs these days?

Happy is an understatement

2009-04-28T06:46:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it. I'm beyond happy. Yan said he bought 2 tickets to the Buena Vista Cafe( Cuban Jazz concert) and asked if i mind accompanying him. It's the one I wanted to go too but was too expensive! I can't believe it. I'm beyond happy. I wanna do a little salsa move now!

My Typical Day

2009-04-28T02:51:00.000-07:00

The third episode of '48' is out on Tada Radio. Just thought I do a shout-out for that.

It's Tuesday and I've back at Law Library tonight. It's crowded at night and I'm kinda bumped out that my usual spot by the window is taken up.

(Oh. My. Gosh. So this is how i sound during my bathroom karaoke session...) Sorry, I'm multitasking, blogging while listening to the radio drama.

This is the typical life of an international student living alone outside. Throughout the day, her mind never stops thinking of what to do next. The day starts off at 7am, followed by breakfast and a hot cup of coffee (i need my java kick). This is followed by a long bath (i'll talk about that in another post). Then it's off to class, or to the library or to work. Juggling everything makes it vital to keep a diary, which has a list of to-dos and for me, a diet list.

It is not unusual for an international student to make a dash to Coles to buy grocery in between classes just to secure good bargains(which caused me to skip 1 lecture once! hahah)Or constantly pray that the rain doesn't fall because her laundry is left outside.

It is also not unusual for an international student to miss home and family on a cold weather like this. I'm missing Malaysia's sunny weather faster than i expected!

Oops. The drama has ended. Means its time to get back to work. I should blog about my interesting Sunday out recording sounds for my sound assignment...and how i managed to spit out 1000 words in 2 hours at 6am in the morning. Which is why its bugging me right now that I am spending 4 hours on a 750 words that is only worth 15 per cent. Bugger. Still. Duty calls.

Wait a minute...

2009-04-25T05:50:00.000-07:00

Wait a minute. You didn't spoil me. I SPOILT YOU.

Peeves

2009-04-25T00:28:00.000-07:00

Here's a list of what I'm up and what I've discovered lately

I am currently reading...
Alain de Botton's "Essays in Love"

I am currently (back) into ...
Salsa, Afro-Cuban music.

Latest album bought...
Son 14: The Greatest Hits

Artists I've discovered...plus albums I'm looking out for...
Ratatat - Wildcats
JJ Grey & Mofro - Orange Blossoms, Lochloosa
Putumayo - Salsa series

I currently dig...
Ketna Patel's contemporary collages.

I am addicted to...
My $3 a box 18 sachets of Mocconna Strong Cap.

I seriously need to...
Cut down on my caffeine intake. I'm tipping at avearge 2 cups a day. On a good day.

My mind is working on...
My sound assignment. My journalism report. My Modern Asia biblio.

Anzac at Library

2009-04-24T18:35:00.000-07:00

It's Anzac day today, and hence a public holiday. Anzac day is the anniversary day of the first major military action fought by Australia and New Zealand forces during the First World War. However, after the second world war, the tradition of paying respect to the fallen soldiers were expanded to include those who died in the Second World War. A series of long held traditions are kept on this day, such as the Dawn Service, the Anzac Day March around Australia and New Zealand, Anzac biscuits (originally made by a group of women for the soldiers during WW1), etc.

It's been a busy month for Australians and Melburnians i reckon. Just before Easter chocolates settle in, we are already nibbling crumbs off our Anzac biscuits. The cold and wet weather does not seem to dampen the liveliness of Melburnians too. Last night Ivan and I encircled the city by foot for two hours! We were actually out to seek Hardware lane, a lane with interesting cafes and bars. It's tucked away in a corner of Elizabeth and Collins and hence we had a hard time finding it. I was actually in search of a quiet cafe where i can do some readings but you can never find 'quietness' or 'solidarity' in the city on a friday night. at every corner, people are filling in bars and clubs, cafes, restaurants, theatres (especilly since its the last week of comedy fest). I reckon no true Melburnians stay at home on a Fri night. It's time for booze, catch up and good pat on each other's back.

We were so tired but satisfied at the end of the night. I brought Ivan to Brunetti for cakes and coffee... Cappucino, Long Black, Italian cheesecake and French pastry....what better way to cap off a cold, wet, booze-free friday night?

Alright, I'm at the Vic State Library right now actualy (because all UniMelb's library are closed due to Anzac Day). I still think nothing beats Law Library...but the good side is free wireless internet. =)

Have a nice day ahead, and i'm on good tracks. No worries.

48

2009-04-23T09:00:00.000-07:00

The radio drama that i've been honoured to be a part of is finally out on Tada Radio. Visit http://www.tada-radio.com/

Personal Resolution

2009-04-22T17:05:00.000-07:00

For those of you who are still gaping, please do not be reeled over by the sudden confession that i've made. Understand also that i've been considering this a long time but have not found the courage to do so. But i believe that it is still early for me to recuperate and get my life back in order and the only way to mend this issue is to first address it. This confession, and the trackings of my recovery progress which will ensue is not to alarm anyone but to commit myself to a fixture. Perhaps also, this decision of mine will inspire other people out there who are facing the same problem to come out of the dark with the assurance that you are not alone.

In terms of eating disorders, i have been on both extreme ends. Although my condition is nothing severe, i later found out through research that i fall into the statistics of girls battling with eating disorder. I used to deprive myself of food and obsess over calorie counting since i was in high school. For the past year, i have paradoxically used food as a substitute for other things in my life. In other words, I am an emotional binge eater and I've been hiding this from loved ones all along. But as much as i've used food as a comfort, i found no solace in it. One or two pieces of Tim Tam on a stressful night might be a comfort, but a whole pack in less than half an hour followed by other junk food out of sadness is not. It did not make me feel good, in fact, i was lethargic and unenergetic. I realised i was hurting myself more with the things that i thought would heal me. I was very ashamed and guilty, and the more ashamed and guilty i became,the more i abused food.

I realise that this has come to an end for a better state of mind and a healthier body. But no worries, as i said, it is not an alarming problem and I would prefer if you not ask me anything about it. Hopefully, this blog will serve as a space for me to deal with the psychological and emotional aspects of my problem. And i hope that as spectators, you will wait and cheer on me as i finish this course with triumph. =)

Eating Disorder:=Mental Disorder

2009-04-22T16:26:00.000-07:00

If you haven't heard, eating disorder is a psychological illness that affects 70 million males and females worldwide (Eating Disorders 101 Guide: A Summary of Issues, Statistics and Resources, 2003). A new study by Australian experts has shown that children as young as five are being treated for eating disorders. The researchers led by Dr Sloane Madden, a child and adolescent psychiatrist at Westmead Children's Hospital in Sydney, found that the instances of eatng disorder among these children have become so severe that food must be forcefully fed to them (Hay,2009)

Eating disorder is a complex mental illness that ecompasses two extremes of dietary intake. At one end there is anorexia nervosa, where one deprives oneself of food in order to look thin. At the far end of the spectrum lies binge eating disorder where one consume excessive amount of food in a very short time, often in one seating. What lies between the two is bulimia nervosa, where one purges after excessive eating due to guilt. Factors that lead to these illnesses vary from social factors to psychological factors to biological factors (Eating disorders, 2008)

Although statistics show that 1 in every 5 women suffers from eating disorder, it is safe to assume that the numbers are higher due to the number of unreported cases (Eating Disorders 101 Guide: A Summary of Issues, Statistics and Resources, 2003). Many are still left in the dark because they are either ashamed or in denial.

References:
Eating Disorders, 2008, Better Health Channels, retrieved 23rd April 2009,http://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/BHCV2/bhcarticles.nsf/pages/Eating_disorders?Open

Hay,P.J. 2009, Eating disorders in younger children: current issues and unanswered questions, The Medical Journal of Australia: 190 (8): 403-404.

The Renfrew Center Foundation for Eating Disorders, "Eating Disorders 101 Guide: A Summary of Issues, Statistics and Resources," published September 2002, revised October 2003, http://www.renfrew.org.

Secrets

2009-04-22T04:44:00.000-07:00

I believe all of us are walking closets filled with hidden skeletons. Each one of us holds a deep, dark secret that is waiting to manifest itself upon our appearances and behaviour. Some of these secrets are shared among a trusted partner, some with family members; but often times we carry these crosses on our backs alone willingly. Willingly because the slightest bit of its exposure threatens to shatter the contradictary image we project on the surface. Willingly because we are not ready to let others see this side of us, not even ourselves. For some, these secrets lay on the shelves of our kitchen cabinets, for others it is stashed under our beds, or locked up in a cyber world. Most of the time, it shares the common characteristics of being shut away, unseen or unheard of and profoundinly surprising, even to the eyes of the offender.

We are most vulnerable when we think we are the strongest. We are our greatest enemy. We may not give in to the person beside us, or the obstacle that was put before us by others, but we are easily trapped by our own weaknesses. This is because we believe we pose no threat to ourselves. We naively let our guards down to ourselves, unaware of the habitual diseases that are eating us alive.

Worst still if we fail to acknowledge the self inflicted desease. We adamantly believe we have everything under control, because we refuse to believe it is us, our sid and ego, that holds the key to our self destruction. Nonetheless, the power to beautify and strengthen ourselves lies on the far end of the spectrum but we are often to stubborn to acknowledge the problem, much less to fix it.

Hence we wait. We wait in the dark till light pours in. We seek for intervention without calling out for it. Or, we wait till it catches up with our inability to conceal it further. We wait till it takes on a life of its own. Often times, it is already too late. Tragically, sometimes it comes to live on the expense of our own.

I too have a dark secret and I have this paranoia that one day someone would come up to me and say, 'hey, i've been watching you. i know what you're doing.' But as much as i fear the appearence of this person, i await on him or her as my buoy out in the rough, choppy sea. I yearn for this holy intervention, i yearn for one to say,'i know you. I know what you're dealing with. Come with me.'

Yet i know my secret is not a deadly one and i have the balance of power over it. It is a problem shared by many many people, even famous faces we see on TV like Oprah. Great people, people with the force to change the world, but not to change themselves. Until they realise. I am writing this now because I believed i have hit rock bottom with this problem and i want to take control over it. I will not discuss the severity of this problem or what i've done. I'm done with emotional binge eating and i do not want to continue to use food as a substance of abuse. I am coming out from the dark because i want to come face to face with it. I think the first step to self recovery is to admit and acknowledge the problem. You can judge me at the back of your minds, it's alright. I just want to step out of the dark so anyone else who shares the same secret will have the courage to face it too.

I am not seeking for your help and i do not want to discuss it with anyone. This admission helps me by subconciosuly reminding myself that i am now exposed, by myelf, and i have the responsibility to treat myself better. I am answerable to you, the one who's reading this and i hope to get back to you with good reports. Let me rephrase that. I will get back to you with good reports.

I-dont-buy-that-crap

2009-04-16T02:51:00.000-07:00

Shut up. Just shut up.

Closure

2009-04-14T15:55:00.000-07:00

Alright. It's time to take the pieces up and move on. Unconsciously I've still kept our pictures on my wall, in my wallet, my passwords down to the things I used everyday bear reminescence of 'us'. But i think i've wallowed too long. I've lost momentum, lost control. Running from one door to the other, hoping someone would let me in. That has to stop. There's too many things to see, do and explore. I have to shift my attention back to my priorities. You are right, everybody else is right too. They can say, 'I told you so.', it doesn't matter. I have zero regrets in sharing that part of my life with you and it'll continue on as we grow-just in a different frame. We can learn a lot from our mistakes, and hopefully that will make us a better person. You have my blessings in whatever, whatever you do, for eternity. Love her not in the shadow of us because she deserves to be under a spotlight. Love her in the light of the correction of your previous mistakes.

At the end of the day, a relationship should make you happy, make you a better person, help you learn and grow. If we stick to the simple, innocent basic rule, it should be fine. =) I've always believed that.

Little princess, signs off.

Wispy memories

2009-04-13T08:01:00.000-07:00

Good. I shouldn't have asked but...good. I guess.

You ever wonder how wispy memories can be? They're like clouds, easily formed, easily shredded apart. Or like a delicate pearl chain. Beads of memories held firmly together by a string ; yet when someone knocks it over, it breaks and scatters to the ground. Shattered, disarrayed, forelon.

I find myself running after it as if it was a departing train. Scurried for echoes of our laughters, the warmth of your hugs, the desperation of clinging on to something...

...something so fragile. Like life.

I saw you yet you were void. I saw through you. You're like a black fog now.

Time to sleep now little princess.

How a Sunday should be.

2009-04-13T00:01:00.000-07:00

It was great to finally have everybody back at home, around the dinner table. The past two weeks, a discomforting gloom and loneliness loomed over the infamously 'happening' unit. Neil had been out with his friends a lot while Kelvin eloped with his broken heart, leaving Ivan alone at home, keeping Boredom company.

He came home, finally. I reckon we all breathed the same sigh of relief. Me, perhaps with maternal instincts, feeling stronger than the rest. The other person that I thought I lost was acting normal again too. I was hoping, not too hard,that everything was normal. And so we bustled around the kitchen, me over the pot of chicken curry, Ivan slicing his salted fish. Finally, we were at the table, each with our own distinctive plates, talking,laughing, eating, like normal. Me, with my maternal instincts again, pleased as they went for seconds and thirds. And I, succumbing to my intrinsic, domestic, unfeminist role of a mother, spooned more curry into the fast emptying bowl. We ate, asked how his weekend was, tried to look beyond the tired, tear strained eyes.

After dinner and oranges, we parted to our own work, after helping me with my pc. Each again, to his own confined space, own leisure, own work, own determination.

I had seen the pictures on Facebook and knew what was going on. Or at least, i anticipated what was about to happen. The explanation (slash confirmation) did come after all. What did you expect me to say? How did you want me to respond? I said everything truthfully. I meant it. If you're happy, I'm happy. Glad to know she's a good girl who can bring positive influence to you. Phil Collins started crooning 'You have no right...to ask me how i feel...'

I forgotten how long it took me to sleep. I lay awake, eyes up to the ceiling, picturing you and her sisters, ice cream... I listen as Neil took two deep, long breaths in his sleep. I felt suffocated with my short gasp. The familar smell of sleep and masculine perfume brought me home.

But this is not my bed and this is not my home. The illusion of belonging to a home is so condescending. As much as you want to belong somewhere, you will never quite belong anywhere outside yourself.

People

2009-04-11T00:12:00.000-07:00

One of the reasons i like travelling alone is that it gives much more space and oppotunity to talk to strangers and learn interesting things about them. Ironically, this trip brought me closer to myself yet closer to the world beyond me. In one day, i've managed to engage in a little chat with a beautiful french girl Audrey, who was heading to Torquay for the surfing competition. I was actually fortunate to bump into Audrey, who walked me to Southern Cross Station.She told me how difficult it was to look for a place to live in Melbourne CBD and that she had been trying so hard to find a part time job. However, it has been her life long dream to come to Australia, and is enjoying every second of it.

At Southern Cross, I talked to a Sri Lankan family who was coming from Prahran to Geelong. The young mother was studying corporate communication at Deakin University. Although we didn't talk much, i could feel their joy of relating to a diasporic Asian migrant, regardless of how different our social and cultural background was. Before we parted, she smiled sweetly,shyly, and with struggling English, said,' you a beautiful girl...' I blushed just as much as she did.

The next family that I talked to was a retired couple from Adelaide, who were bypassing Victoria towards Sydney and then Canberra. They're on a 3 weeks tour around Australia and were in Geelong to visit a friend. We talked about travelling, as they shared their experiences in Phuket and Bali. We talked as I sat on the grass,savouring my fish and chips. The Country Music the live band was playing filled in the silent gaps between our conversations just nicely.

It was on the Queenscliff jetty that I met Mr.Tony, an old Italian man i would live to regret not having more time to spend with. Tony was as stereotypical Italian man, with srtong Italian accent and a playful sense of humour. We must've spent no less than 20 minutes, walkng along the jetty just talking. We first started talking about fishing and cooking those mini swordfishes that could be caught easily in Queenscliff. Then our conversation shifted towards his family and life here in Australia. Interestingly, Tony married a Norwegian, Isla, and had a daughter, Heidi, who grew up in Australia. His son-in-law is originally from Malta. Tony chuckled and beamed with pride at how multi-cultured his family was. I could tell that he loved his daughter a lot too because he had a twinkle in his eyes when he spoke of her. I was then introduced to his family--wife, daughter and son-in-law, who were all friendly and... slightly embarassed that their 'old man was boring me with his stories'. But he sure wasn't! I kept laughing as Tony poked fun at Chinese, Italians and Swedish, and felt his pride as he talked about his daughter. Incidentally, we bumped into each other again later on, and he pat my cheeks in a very Italian gesture and said,'ah...we meet again!' gurgling with laughter. As mentioned, i really wished i had spent a longer time with this nice family, or at least gotten a picture of Tony, whose last name i regretabby do not know. =(

It is amazing how a simple 'So, where are you heading to?' or a blatant comment about the weather can lead to interesting conversations. I've always wished I could create a montage of these people and their stories, a collection or archive that might be resourceful from time to time.

Good Friday

2009-04-10T06:47:00.000-07:00

I woke up at 0630am this morning. But i was hardly tired-I had a couple of 'small' missions to complete. Firstly, I thought of being an easter bunny this year and leave mini chocolate bars and eggs outside each of my friend's door. Hence, early in the morning i crept into Walsh and place their egg baskets just outside their door-half hoping no one would be hung over from last night and step on it. (they didn't!)

Then i started on my journey down to Queenscliff, which was an hour and a half drive away from Melbourne. Of course i didnt drive down...instead i took a train from Southern Cross Station to Geelong, then from Geelong a shuttle bus to the Malpone--where the event was held.

The Queenscliff Seafood Festival is said to be Australia's largest Seafood Festival, and judging from the crowd that turned up today, it probaly is true. The fest is also a fund raising event for the Royal Children's Hospital's Good Friday Aid. Well, apart from wanting to head somewhere far for Easter, i attended this event partly for my Hard News Story Assignment. I thought I'd get some good pictures and maybe interview some people (but never got to in the end because they were too busy. I was skeptical at first(and a little worried on behalf on the organizers) seeing the small turnout in the morning. The big park look just like any other park on the weekends. Families were sprawled across, on their picnic mats, fully equipped with fod from the fest and snacks they brought from home. Children were running everywhere, their laughters offering an extra jingle to the live band that was playing on stage.

Queenscliff is a small coastal fishing village, a nice friendly neighbourhood where you can find interesting french arts stuff. A local told me to try out some good gelatos which i unfortunately did not have enough capacity to stomach (had too much dutch fritters in the fest). I strolled around and managed to buy 2 bohemian dresses! (yay! but please don't tell my mum!)

Backspace

2009-04-02T09:30:00.000-07:00

Line after line, i typed it all out.

Then

Line after line, i deleted it all.

3am

2009-04-02T03:38:00.000-07:00

where can i go at 3am
with a bucket of tears
a gallon of memories
a night of no sleep
miles and miles away

Picture Songs

2009-04-01T06:11:00.000-07:00

'There was once a beautiful cloud who blew birds from its mouth...'

-Darby Hudson

Lentils About Nothing

2009-04-01T05:48:00.000-07:00

It's Wednesday night and I did nothing course-related except to enjoy good food,listen to our own laughter, relate to people and reflect on life lessons---plus a lot of horny jokes.

Jessie, Yan and I wanted to try out an interesting Vegetarian restaurant in Brunswick that was presumably good. The interesting bit about this restaurant is that you pay for whatever price you think it's value, so you can be a cheapskate and pay $3 (shame on you if you think of paying anything lower than that!. However, when we finally got there, we couldn't locate the restaurant. We walked up and down the street only to realise that a bar has replaced Lentils about Nothing. =( We ended up eating a PRICEY Japanese meal(because the portion was so SMALL, it was possibly meant for Japanese girls. But, we had so much fun talking and laughing. Yan wasnt full after that, so we went to Brunettis at Lygon Street for cakes and coffee. More talking and laughing. Brunettis is a restaurant/bakery/cafe that spreads across 4 shoplots. They have anything from pasta, salad, glorious cakes, pastries, pizza, coffee to ice cream and it's crowded! Great place to hang out with friends i guess.

The occassion was break ups and Yan's job offer...valid reasons to chill on a Wed night?

Point aside. I picked some really intresting movie flyers that I reallY REALLY want to watch. My novel/movie itch is back again...Here's the list of movies I wanna watch:
1. Good
2. Queit Chaos
3. Wendy and Lucy
4. The Boy in Stripped Pyjamas
5 (A movie about the International Committee of Safety Zone during the Japanese intrusion into Nanking...Adrian recommended it) Adrian is undertaking Post Grad studies in International Politics. Another interesting fellow I'd talk about next time.

Novels on my shelves are:
1. The Rape of Nanking (halfway through)
2. Last One Out (an account on the Burma-Thailand Death Railway)
3. Modern Feminism in Japan
4. Janet Frame's Towards Another Summer
5. Alan Marshall's Short Stories

Now...i need to find time.

Quotes

2009-03-31T14:40:00.000-07:00

And maps can really point to places
Where life is evil now:
Nanking, Dachau.

-W.H. Auden "Collected Shorter Poems, 1930-1944 (London: Faber and Faber, 1950), "In Time of War", XVI, pp.279-80.

習慣

2009-03-30T14:03:00.000-07:00

又在臨睡前,拿起電話.
有些習慣改不了.
我以為,我到最後有把那構思好的簡訊傳出去.
醒來發現沒有你的答覆時, 還納悶了一下.
原來我在猶豫間,睡著了.
那些對話是夢的對白.

有些人活在地球上太久了, 就算將他移到土星上, 他也不知道.

Dizzy up me!

2009-03-30T03:26:00.000-07:00

I know it's random, but I had a very long day and a longer week ahead. I'm chilling out to Goo Goo Dolls now and having goosebumps. Why why why hasnt anyone sing me songs likes 'Slide', or 'Iris', 'Name', 'Black Balloon"...??! I would've have followed you home if you did. Not anymore though. I've let the cat out of the bag.

My Story

2009-03-29T07:02:00.000-07:00

The audience held their breath as she steadied herself on the thin wooden plank. They let out a soft cry as her knees jerked, threatening to throw her off balance. With both arms spread out to each side, she bended her knees slightly, regaining balance. Then, she straightened her body, lifted her head and made a 360 degrees flip. Sasha landed with both feet planted firmly on the plank. Instantly, the nerve wrecking silence was broken. The crowd went wild, cheering and whistling and clapping. She grinned widely and took a bow, her sparkling white and blue costume gleaming under the bright neon lights.

Brody cheered for her too though she could not hear him. He was still enthralled despite seeing the same act several times. He could memorize each step, each sequence, and knew that the knee-jerk was just a trick to keep the audience’s adrenaline pumping. That was one of the reasons why Brody loved the circus. Everything was coordinated, every move was planned. The performers rarely fell. They never disappeared. They’d entice you; keep you in suspense, made you believe they were gone; then they’d appear again. How Brody had wished his mother’s suicide was a disappearing act too. How he wished she would stand right up and tell him she was reenacting the stunt they had seen at the circus that night she killed herself. But unlike the circus performers, her soul really disappeared into the night, leaving her lifeless body lying in the arms of her eight year old son.

Brody stood up and made his way out of the tent. He was determined to see Sasha Paladie again, the 23-year-old rising star of Ringler Bros. circus. He wanted to tell her she was still beautiful. Sasha was tall and thin, but she was strong. Brody admired her strength and bravery and secretly wished he had the same courage on the battle front.

Sasha was already leaving when he got to the changing room. She walked in a hurry, clutching the oversize trench coat that draped over her frail body. Brody noticed how she contorted slightly when she walked, as if her bright orange stilettos were causing her great discomfort. He decided to trail her home.

They walked for about a mile until she made a turn into a deserted park. In the middle of the park stood a steel freight container, about 20 metres tall and less than 2 metres wide. The blue paint that once covered the container was peeling and light penetrated through the small patches of rust here and there. Sasha pried open the heavy steel door that let out a creak. Then she turned to Brody and said, “Are you coming in?”

Brody was taken back. He shuffled his feet, causing the dried leaves below them to crackle. “H-How did you I was back…?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe I wanted you to be back.”

Brody entered the caravan nervously, visually scanning the interiors of the unique makeshift home. It was the same as before. Sasha had managed to fit in a day bed and a small side table. Under the bed laid a brown leather suitcase that functioned as her closet. Beside her bed was a mini fridge, a cordless boiler and that was it.

“Ouch, damn shoes,” Sasha winced at the blisters on her toes. The size 41 Jimmy Choo leather stilettos had been resoled twice and the heel was worn down unevenly. Although they were polished regularly, a small stubborn spot of grease remained on the left shoe. He had given her the shoes before he was deployed to Iraq. They were the only shoes she had and the sweat-stained indent of her foot in the leather base was proof of her physical and emotional attachment to them.

“I knew you hated them. I’m sorry.” He said.

“So what is it that you wanted to tell me?” she asked.

Brody was sitting awkwardly on her old, dusty day bed. “I… just… wanted to tell you, I still think you’re beautiful… and…”

“…and…?” Sasha was the impatient one, never liked surprise or guesses.

“I finally found out what that word meant,” he said, pointing to the Chinese character tattooed across her back. “Pvt. Chen who had just transferred to our station taught me. It means Loyalty.”

Sasha did not reply. She was always reluctant to tell people what that tattoo meant, just as she never told anyone that she had spent seven years bound in a wheelchair. It was the result of a bad training injury sustained when she was on the national gymnast team. They were just pieces from her past, like a bad movie one should, but never could, forget. What matters is that she’s here now, loyal to her dreams of joining the Cirque de Soleil one day. The dream that her gymnast mother had of her winning the gold medal in the Olympics was over.

The only fluorescent light bulb in the small space flickered as a moth circumnavigated around it. Brody chuckled as he observed the moth.

“You know, I always lie awake on my bunk bed watching that little fellow fluttering around the light bulb above me. Sometimes, it will burn it self and fall dead on me...”

“…I used to think, aren’t we all like that sometimes? Drawn to play with fire when we know it’ll burn us? A lot of pain are self-inflicted I tell you. God up there must be having fun watching us make these stupid mistakes” Brody thought our loud.

“I wanted to come back Sasha. I was tired of firing arms, tired of picking up my dead brothers’ bodies, tired of seeing innocent women and children run when our tanks invaded their homes…”

Sasha did not know what to say. It did not matter anymore. It was too late. At least Brody too, was loyal to something. He was loyal to his country.

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.” Sasha said as she turned off the lights. Brody watched as she closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Beside her laid a newspaper cut out that read-

‘Lance Cpl. Brody J. Johnson, 18, was killed while conducting combat operations against enemy forces in Anbar province…’

* * *

My Elements

2009-03-29T06:49:00.000-07:00

Characters:
1. Brody, 18, Soldier.
Brody is a skilled soldier. He is shy and at night he lies awake and watches the moths circumnavigating the light above him.

2. Sasha, 23, Circus Performer.
Sasha is very tall, thin and strong. She has never told anyone that she spent 7 years of her life in a wheelchair. She refuses to translate the foreign words tattooed across her back.

Location: Frieght Container
A freight container, the kind that can be seen stacked on top of another at a port. Inside the container, light penetrates through small patches of rust here and there. A repetitive thumping noise can be heard in the distance.

Object: Shoe
An orange stillttoe shoe, size 41, once expensive. The shoe has been resoled, and regularly polished. The heel is worn down unevenly and there is sweat-strained indent of a foot in the leather base. There is a small spot of grease on the leather.

Writing Media Text Short Story Assignment

2009-03-29T06:43:00.000-07:00

You have randomly chosen four story elements; two characters, one location and one object. You need to go to Blackboard to check the briefs of these elements. You will then construct a short fictional narrative using all four elements. You need to stick to these elements – your teacher has made a note of what you chose. Let the elements speak imaginatively to you.

The situation does not have to be ‘real’, but seek emotional honesty. Avoid cliché. Try to make plot grow out of character, not the other way around. Think about how each character will respond to the other – stories work best with conflict. Sketch your story outline before you begin.

Have a beginning, middle and end.

Make your story between 500 and 1,000 words, but briefer is often better.

Feel free to edit and re-write for as long as you like, and be cognizant of the process that you go through. Your musings and process will make an ideal journal entry.

2009-03-26T16:06:00.000-07:00

Then i finally cried. Two, three streams of tears. Then i stopped and fell into a deep sleep. No dreams. Just deep, dark pitch of sleep.

Monologues: Part 1

2009-03-26T03:58:00.000-07:00

I'm most lonely when
I come face to face with myself
And my fears becomes a deafening silence
And my dreams, a fading mockery
I'm most lonely when
I meet my own ghost.
And she sits there, at my kitchen
sipping coffee, watching me.
And tells me stories about
my past, times when this room
was more crowded, lively, nosiy.
They were here once, when the music played,
she said, now they're gone.
One by one, they made their way
out of my door, without me noticing
So now i'm stuck here
just me and my ghost.
Let's sing a song, i said,
picking up my guitar.
And we sang, and we danced,
and we laughed, we laughed!
Then we got tired and snuggled up
Close to each other, i didnt know
heartbeats belong to ghosts.
You think they'll ever come back?
You think he'll ever come back?
I asked.
You'll never know... she said.
Maybe it is you who keeps running.
She said. And sips her coffee.

Mish-Mash

2009-03-25T16:23:00.000-07:00

It's turning out to be a very colourful academic week. From analyzing martial arts as a form of nationalism to writing a hard news story; from understanding comics to hypertexuality; from understanding texts to sound, from collage to photomontage... i feel like an elastic rubber band now... after hours of working on my journal, i feel liberated yet restricted. I wish i could dwelve in these topics more, especially the one about collage. I was having fun browsing through arts sites this morning and felt so ashamed that i've came to know about Braque, Lutz, Herzel and CK Wilde only now. Collage is not simply picking up garbage and putting them together, it's about interpretation and sending out a message. Each work is philosophy in the making, and how i wish i had the intellect and knowledge to understand them. Or about sounds, experimental music, documentaries. I find myself facing them like a virgin to a seasoned lover. Naked, vulnerable, nervous, embarassed, clumsy.

Quotes

2009-03-25T14:29:00.000-07:00

'Art is a biological catalyst of humans. As such, it may and must analyze and define social taboos. Art is the visual extension of philosophy-philosphy is the art of thinking. Art comes from thinking, and not from talent."
- Alexendar Sterzel (n.d.)

Week 4

2009-03-22T14:43:00.001-07:00

It's Monday morning and Melbourne's wet weather has returned after a weekend of familiar Malaysian weather.

I'm slowly easing into Week 4 of the Academic calendar though it's my 6th week here at Melbourne.

I have a press conference today and a news article due tomorrow. I have readings to still catch up on. Not to mention heaps of journal entries to log in. And that personal montage to play around with.

I resolved not to abuse food again. I'm done with unhealthy emotional eating.

Deep down, I'm still trying to recall why chocolate tasted so good.

Walsh, my second home?

2009-03-22T03:29:00.000-07:00

Some attractions are destined and unavoidable, like my instant affection for the atmosphere at Walsh residence and a bunch of guys who live in Unit 5 of Walsh Main. For those of you who think I'm talking Greek now,let me explain. The student accommodation that I live in---Rooms International has 3 main residences at 3 different locations---Bouverie residences (which includes Swanston East and West), Walsh (which consists Walsh Main, Ground and West) and Monet (a dorm style accommodation). I remember feeling very serene the first time Jessie brought me to Walsh on my informal work orientation. Walsh West is shrouded in trees and shrubs whilst Walsh Main has a nice open deck area where communal livng spirit comes alive. The first time I met the Unit 5 boys i was amazed. I couldn't help smiling at the way 2 chinese boys and a 'guai lou' were cooking together and how neat their apartment was (but i have to say, it has deteriorated slightly now...)

I guess we started hanging out a lot after Kelvin's birthday dinner. Oops, forgive my bad manners. Basically the guys at Unist 5 consists of Kelvin, Ivan, Neil and Adi. They share the apartment with two other girls Linda and Neesh. Kelvin, who is from Sibu, is a third year mechanical engineering student at Melbourne Uni. I have a hard time controlling myself from laughing everytime i see him because Kelvin has such an energetic, animatic and down to earth personality. He's the good guy, big brother type. Really, he just cracks me up. And i know he reads my blog so there u go Kelv, u make me laugh---OUT LOUD.

Then there's Ivan, the Interior Design student from KL. I sort of have the feeling that Ivan's the youthful, teeny one in the gang. The guy who's into live bands, gigs, contemp. design, surfing, travelling, photography and straight tongue-in-cheek sarcasm. He won't hold himself back to diss you if he dislikes you but i think at heart he's a kind, considerate person. He's the only one who'd offer help with the grocery shopping or to walk me home. Oh, Kelv does too. =)

Then comes Neil, the Australian-Canadian dude from ottowa. Neil in general, is like the devil and the saint to me. Having completed his Masters in Philosophy and now a Juris Doctor student at Melbourne Uni, Neil embolishes two extreme personalities, the guy that can work and party hard at the same time. It's a very good balance we can all strive to emulate. 'Sei guai lou' is what we call him and his eyes lits up whenever we do, as if he owns it (the nickname) proudly.

Aditya or Adi in short is from India. I can't say much about Adi because he's ALWAYS on the move, either heading out or coming in...and then heading out again. From our conversation, i reckon he comes from a strict family back home in India (his parents are doctors) and is out looking for lots of fun in life. Cheeky is one word i'd used to describe him.

I've been frequenting Walsh a lot (and...aiks...even crashing over at their place). I enjoy cooking and having dinner with them, or drinking coffee (or beer) and just chatting. So Kelv, is it ok to name Walsh my second home? Especially now with that cool Coffee maker and Neil's milk frother?

I kinda think i need a girl friend though.

Quotes

2009-03-21T18:43:00.001-07:00

'We learn from history that we learn nothing from history.'
-George Bernard Shaw

Smoke House

2009-03-21T15:08:00.000-07:00

I think we live in a smoke house, you and i
our faces are veiled, we don't see each other.
We breathe in and breath out,
it's all just smoke, why do we bother?
I got wasted by strangers and woke up alive
Put on your shirt, make memories revive
yet i'm still kissing waters,
making love to air, why do we bother?

I get to say goodbye and hi again
I never really meant them
I get to say goodbye and hi again
I never really meant them

I think we live in a smoke house, you and i
our eyes are holllow, our a mouths a gaping hole.
it's all just smoke, why do we bother?
I reached my hands out to touch you
But i made a hole in you, turned to ashes
now i'm still kissing waters
making love to air, why do we bother?

I get to say goodbye over and over again
i never really mean them
I get to say hello over and over again
I never really mean them

* Note: The poem does not fully represent the writer's state of mind.
Readers are advised not to make misinformed judgement.

Fluff

2009-03-20T03:56:00.000-07:00

If i left a strand of hair
on your shoulders;
If i knew you too much
yet know nothing about you
it means nothing, because
some clouds are not white
they are meant to be black.
some touches are meant to be void
some hugs wrap you but
dont fill you up.
some attractions are toxic
addictive, enigmatic
but they mean nothing
they evaporate once its exposed.
why then do we rely on such instincts?
life is a fluff
and we live in a bubble
waiting to pop.

Here Comes the Sun

2009-03-18T16:25:00.000-07:00

I've always loved that famous Beatles jingle, especially on a sunny day, how apt! Well, the sun is out now in Melbourne city, for two consecutive days after hiding itself the past week. I love the sun! Perhaps being a Malaysian, it is intrinsic of me to feel attached to it, or the mere biological fact that my body is anti-resistant to cold. Either way, I wish I can soak up the sun and store it in my body like a solar system!

I woke up at 4am. Well, actually I havent been getting a sound and peaceful sleep lately and don't bother asking me if anything is bothering me because that will bother an insomniac more! After finishing the first half of my Orientalism reading and chatting with Jimmy, my lethargic body was screaming 'CAFFEINE' so i took a warm shower, did laundry, got dressed and headed to Vic Market---I decided to treat myself to a Skinny Cap. and Chicken Wrap. I am a morning person and what I love about mornings most is seeing dawn break. I love seeing the blue, red and orange hues splashed across the velevty blue sky. I also love the bustle of mornings, how everyone is up and about, energetic and enthusiastic, full of anticipation of the day ahead. Of course, there are some who looked like they slept standing up the whole night but i digress. Anyways, it is this period of the day when the engines of labour starts warming up and getting ready to burst into full force!

After breakfast, i navigated my way to Melbourne Uni's Ballieu Library; found a cosy study area by the window and continued my readings. Why Melb Library instead of RMIT's? Simply because I remembered Liang Jie's detestment against RMIT libraries and decided to find out for myself why he favours Ballieu instead. My conclusion is: do your readings at Ballieu if you wish to put on an academia's hat. or...if like me,you simply enjoy watching a live montage of mixed personalities through a glass window on the pretext of studying.

From the theorist's table...

2009-03-18T11:27:00.000-07:00

Michel Foucault:
'The search for descent is not the erecting of foundations: on the contrary, it disturbs what was previously considered immobile; it fragments what was thought unified; it shows the heterogeneity of what was imagined consistent with itself...'