Bonjour. Si vous voulons me chercher, vous ĂȘtes venu au faux endroit.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
how do people tolerate me, i wonder.. sometimes i can barely stand myself.. and thats already because i am my own form of existance.. without myself i am nothing, although i can imagine one could fine a gazillion reasons otherwise.. god i wish i were invisible.. you know, if death involved being unseen and watching the people you know get on with their lives from afar, i seriously wouldnt mind.. haha, if according to one of robert rankins books, you get reincarnated and while waiting for that people float just off the surface of the earth, enjoying the cosmic rays, i might not mind too much either.. yeah apparently thats why hauntings are once a year.. the worlds come a full circle and the souls back where it started again..
3:19 am
ah well, what can i say. that i found beauty again in this world? or at least realised that it still does exist.. this whole evening i was dreaming of a world separate from ours, even when i was playing.. not wholly there.. ingrid magnussen. magnussen. gods, even her name doesnt sound real. or maybe it does, and im the one who isnt real.. all night i kept on being jerked back to reality, or at least partway there.. that schubert especially. so, real.. so in-your-face.. like oh, my, gosh.. alright now what am i talking about, i cant even do half that.. she tackled it with such an earnestness, goodness. when will i ever do that.. it was like: this is a song. hear me sing. this is a moving song. be moved. yes, pseudo-inspirational all over again.. my favourite word/phrase, i know.. even i am tiring of it already.. but what else is there? i can be who you want me to be.. anything you want.. the worlds a stage, afterall.. i am a better actress than you think.. diligent student, compliant daught, role-model sister, absolutely-smashing friend.. you name it, ill be it.. so long as it doesnt take too much out of me.. and how well do you want to know me, then? be careful you dont look too hard, you might not like what you see.. dont turn over rocks if you dont want to see the pale creatures that live underneath them. i know i was being weird, anti-social, way too quiet, whatever. point is, weird, not normal.. but you know what, who cares. it was just this girl whom id probably see only once a week, max. i wasnt gonna make small talk and pretend i liked making small talk.. whats the point. i could tell she was relieved the trains came so soon haha.. oh wells. liked the way her hair fell around though.. god, its been ages since i read this book.. white oleander by janet fitch.. been wondering where it was when suddenly one fine day i was looking for my specs and there it was under my bed saying, read me, let me fill your thoughts.. and fill my thoughts it did.. i cant get it out of my head. the first time i read it it was awesome, mindblowing, so good that i was afraid to read it again but i sure didnt expect it to make me cry.. not cry buckets, heavens no.. but still. here. look at it. this sappy shred of words. My mother came back to me then, put her arms around me, rested her cheek against my hair. Although I knew it was impossible, I could smell her violets. "If you could go back, even partway, I would give anything," she said into my ear. Her large hands gently stroked my hair. It was all I ever really wanted, that revelation. The possibility of fixed stars. i roll my eyes at myself.. like, seriously.. maybe it was the whole mother thing.. goodness knows why i still feel like i need approval from my parents.. i mean, yeah they are my parents.. but still. you know. they dont even recognize me any more. suddenly theyve realized that im not their little kid anymore. not their puppet on a string anymore. *gasp* i can think! "dont tell me how to raise my kids" she said.. yesyes im sorry, i know i overstepped that one.. i just didnt want her screwing up my sis alright. (no i am not going to be an ass and say just like me. shut up, mouth) i just wanted her to know that there was an alternative, hey you actually have a choice when i comes to what lens youre seeing the world through.. yes admittedly so far my efforts are not working, and i probably am teaching her rebellion, but at least now she knows that theres something else out there. their word is not gospel and that her world is not merely a subset of theirs. or it could be the whole coming a full circle thing. you know, hey lifes a cycle anyway. (here i probably could go into paganism and earth-based religions but im not going into that. i dont know enough and id probably bore you to death) yes i just feel that im at some crossroads, or have been since i stepped into jc, not that id realized it.. and now ive finally decided which direction to turn next.. i just have to quick make that turn before the light turns red. goodness knows, its been green forever. my luck might just run out.. or i guess it could just be me, the mood.. i was already into this sentimental thing earlier.. i would have teared during the return had i been younger.. how embarrassing would that be, crying while page turning. and it wasnt even nice playing.. yesh what was it about sentimentalism again? something about feelings not being there.. yeah, get a life. yes so i guess ill leave you with this, from the aforementioned book, while i go rot in my sentimentalism.. just for tonight. I could have gone with them, Ann and Bill Greenway of Downey. But with them, I might forget things. All the butterflies might fly away. Pressed wildflowers and Bach in the morning, dark hair on the pillow, pearls. Aida and Leornard Cohen, Mrs. Kromach and picnics in the living room, pate and caviar. In Downey, it wouldn't matter that I knew about Kandinsky and Ypres and the French names for the turns in ballet. I might forget black thread through skin, a .38 bullet crashing through bone, the smell of new houses and the way my mother looked when they handcuffed her, the odd tenderness with which the burly cop held his hand over her head so she wouldn't hit it getting into the squad car. With Ann and Bill Greenway of Downey, they would dim, fade away. Amsterdam and Eduardo's hotel, tea at the Beverly Wilshire and the way Claire stood trembling when that bum smelled her hair. I would never again look at the homeless kids in doorways off Sunset and see my own face staring back. ... It wasn't that I didn't believe them. I believed everything they said, they were a salvation, a solution to my most basic lack. But I recalled a morning years ago in a boxy church in Tujunga, the fluorescent lights, chipped folding chairs. Starr charmed as a snake while Reverend Thomas explained damnation. The damned could be saved, he said, anytime. But they refused to give up their sins. Though they suffered endlessly, they would not give them up, even for salvation, perfect divine love. I hadn't understood at the time. If sinners were so unhappy, why would they prefer their suffering? But now I knew why. Without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life. It wasn't like I didn't know where all this remembering got you, all that hunger for beauty and astonishing cruelty and ever-present loss. But I knew I would never go to Bill with a troubling personal matter, a boy who liked me too much, a teacher who scolded unfairly. I had already seen more of the world, its beauty and misery and sheer surprise, than they could hope or fear to perceive. But I knew one more thing. That people who denied who they were or where they had been were in the greatest danger. They were blind sleepwalkers on tightropes, fingers scoring thin air. So i let them go, got up and walked away, knowing I'd given up something I could never get back. Not Ann and Bill Greenway, but some illusion I'd had, that I could be saved, start again.
omg get a life, girl. this is fiction. F-I-C-T-I-O-N. reality is the prelims. reality is your As. reality is your inability to deliver. now get back to it.
12:59 am
Sunday, August 19, 2007
today somebody was telling me something about me not studying and not being prepared.. appalled was the word, if i remember correctly.. appalled that i can still laugh.. this gives me a rather deja vu-ish feeling you know.. kinda reminds me of a friend back in mg, you know like how she was like umm just doing her thing.. and then sometimes we're like roll-eye roll-eye and im pretty sure the slight undertones of disapproval here and there didnt escape her notice.. yeah she was rather sharp sometimes.. and err not-so-sharp other times but never mind about that.. anyways. what i am saying is.. i figure i get where she was coming from now.. like why she did the stuff she did and i guess is still probably doing (or so ive heard) over there in ib. but anyways.
if youre appalled, or disgusted, or i dunno what else there might be to feel.. well yeah. its okay. I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND. i mean not like understand understand, but i guess somewhat know why you would think/feel that.. of course youre free to enlighten my poor foolish person if you so desire.
let us all run the race in such a way to get the prize. only you guys take the olympics.. ill go for the ironman.
10:46 pm
Saturday, August 18, 2007
i am finding it very hard to muster anything more than a bleak sense of apathy for the current exams.. or for the future, for that matter.. i suppose yes, it will matter somewhat when people get their results and go places and get scholarships and such but, not much. im pretty much resigned to stuff.. yeah i know. how can someone who's eighteen be so resigned? its like barely a quarter of your life has gone by kinda thing right.. but you see, ive come to recognize that one person is not going to make a big impact on the world. or rather, the odds are really stacked against it.. its like the probability thing in math or one of those stats thingies.. (haha see i might fail my math but im still gonna get some marks here and there *gringrin*) you know, like yes, of course there will be people who do make a difference. if you count the whole span of time and if you look at all the people ever.. if you count the probability, then yes of course, there will be people who will make a difference.. a minute proportion of them will make a difference.. what are the chances that that person will be me.. or you, for that matter.
of couse, i am being very fatalistic, i know. yes hope is good. goodgoodgood. according to one of our gp papers, hope is an intrinsic value, an end in itself, blahblah blahblah.. btw, what we fail to realise is that gp compres often serve as social commentaries on us the doers of the papers (not so much this one) and should serve as points of reflection, but all all we ever do is moan and groan about how hard the paper was, or how little marks we got for the aq, or how we so didnt get what the summary was asking for, and the list goes on. anyways. hope, is good, yes? why else are people recycling when its easier to just trash it and get a new one? why else are people spending big bucks on hybrid cars? yes dont we all believe in the power of one.. no dont get me wrong, im pretty pro-environment actually.. (but only when compared to my peers hahaha, everything is relative remember?) when i send an email to some decision maker, does my email count when working towards 50 000, 100 000, or a million? doesnt really seem like it. but then again, if everyone thought that way, the count would probably only count around several hundred. i cant really get my head round this one.. i mean, either it works or it doesnt.. could it be that it works, but only sort of?
i understand that looking at the whole world, i am but an insignificant part. as are you, sitting there in front of your computer screen. only difference is, either 1) you fail to/refuse to recognize the futility of your actions or 2) you do realize the futility of your actions but since it does make a difference to you and you alone you still choose to do those whatever it is that you are doing. what is seems to me is, most people are either in 1) or 2). if most are in 1) then i must admit, thats rather sad.. but if most people belong to 2), then there leaves something to be desired in the way i think, dont you think? if half the world can overcome this, then why cant i?
unlike the starfish story (you know, the one where this guys throwing starfish back into the sea when the tide went down then this other guys asking like why, cos theres just so so many starfish to throw back, how could it ever make a difference? and the guy says: makes a difference to this one) yes unlike the starfish story, i cannot seem to understand/feel how things can make a difference, even to me.. i mean like yeah, i guess if i study now, ill get better grades, my life will be heaps easier along the way, that sort of thing.. somehow i cannot make myself believe it, no matter how much self-talk, brainwashing, or whatever-you-choose-to-call-it i try.. obviously, i havent mastered the art of doublethink a la 1984.. either that or i simply not trying hard enough..
as i told my mother earlier, you could help me look for a rich husband. i only hope that she knew i was joking though. but anyways. applications for rich husbands now open.
Criteria: -Possess a considerable amount of material wealth or will do so in the near future upon imminent the death of a family member -Be willing to part with some of it each month so that i can live comfortably (negotiable) -Understand that this is not a marriage of love (whatever that may be)
I will, however, provide interesting conversation if you feel like it, cook for you if so desired, attend family functions or company events and even get new dresses and go for makeovers to look the part. (if you pay for it, of course)
Interested applicants, please email myrdrall@gmail.com Do note that only shortlisted applicants will be notified.
oh yes. i must not forget to tell you that i wrote that marriage is futile for my o level english.. many thanks to cla. :)
PS. I PARAGRAPHED THIS.
5:49 pm
Saturday, August 11, 2007
omg sourdough pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.. world of sourdough here i come.. keep growing, my yeasties! *gringrin*
anyways. gotta run.. too little time..
11:07 pm
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
mellowmellowmellow i am feeling mellow.. and i think im growing older somehow.. maybe not growing up, but growing older yes..
And a rock feels no pain; And an island never cries.
so the song goes.. alright alright ill just paste the whole thing.. cutting just that feels awful..
A winters day In a deep and dark december; I am alone, Gazing from my window to the streets below On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow. I am a rock, I am an island. Ive built walls, A fortress deep and mighty, That none may penetrate. I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain. Its laughter and its loving I disdain. I am a rock, I am an island.
Dont talk of love, But Ive heard the words before; Its sleeping in my memory. I wont disturb the slumber of feelings that have died. If I never loved I never would have cried. I am a rock, I am an island.
I have my books And my poetry to protect me; I am shielded in my armor, Hiding in my room, safe within my womb. I touch no one and no one touches me. I am a rock, I am an island.
And a rock feels no pain; And an island never cries.
oh yes and whatshernametheonewhowrotewhiteoleander said in it that pain is the human condition. or was it loneliness.. i forget. oh well. i dont mean it literally i guess.. that was a reallyreallyreally nice book though.. so nice i dont wanna read it again for fear of spoiling the whole magical thing.. anyways, i really should get my ass off this chair here..
11:48 pm
i will so break this cycle. anyways. study break/leave is here, a big hurray for that. nose, meet grinding stone, grinding stone meet nose.. im sure youll get to be good bedfellows in time to come.. oh yes and books, prepare to be hit.. alright, so much to say, i wont say anything at all.. merry part, people.
11:19 pm
gail.
loves anything new
gets caught up in causes, events, loves
but doesn't do anything about them.
professes to be a supporter of the green movement
but leaves the lights on
disapproves of mcdonalds
but eats there anyways.
godwise, the jury's still out.
schoolwise, fass rocks my socks
but why do i have like a ton of work to do?
familywise, i guess theyre/its great
we just need to figure out what to do around each other?
freindswise, hey you guys are awesome.
blogwise, realises that the profile section is crappy
but doesn't know how else to fill up the space.