Saturday, April 05, 2003


Cheers to the man whose DNA i copy
Whose money I spend,
Whose time I consume,
Who has slogged his life to give me a decent home.
Who has guided me from right and wrong... and who tries not to judge.

[Restrains herself from typing anymore, knowing that she cannot be honest in everything she says]

I love you.

With double clicking on the flower Icon.

Hi, how are you?

Can't be too much can it?
Why is it too much?
Will it hurt?
It might, you know how things work...

I double click, think again... and close the message box.
The world isn't too forgiving is it?

Friday, April 04, 2003

I had a conversation, and once again I'm awed by you.

How you painfully endured in silence as I flouced around in your face.
How you would never complain even though it moved you to tears.
How you were moved to tears, finding it hard to marry being male and being human.
How you stood there, years on end, in contented silence, listening to selfishness.
How you were happy giving.

How you would try to be sensitive.
How you would help my friends, just because i asked.
How you would help me adjust my posts, so that it'll look nicer.
How you would surprise me with a new blog layout, when I'm half a globe away.
How you would worry about my limbs when i would be happily icing down a moutain side.
How you would dare to confront me with my ugliness, and apologise for not being sensitive about it.
How you would lie to me to make me feel better, only to make me feel worse... :)
How you would do innane things for me, like link a picture to a site.
How you think me to be perfect...
... and beautiful.

Thursday, April 03, 2003

Amazing how one post can make you feel small, unimportant and... lousy.

And how one can uplift you and make you feel all warm and cuddly inside.

Still... I hate being marginalized, though I do it myself, all the time.
I'm trying to be my own, holistic, independent being,
Not a reaction to something else,
But it is hard...


Gone gone gone.
Thank you ling for this little reminder. I miss you all so much.

Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday
Buried on Sunday,
This is the end of Solomon Grundy...

And for the rest of us.

I remember a time when I felt my worth,
I remember a time when I knew what I needed to know.
I remember a time when I didn't have to feel useless,
I remember a time when I had pride in what was involved in.
I remember a time when I grew without competition.
I remember a time when I feared little.

Tuesday, April 01, 2003

Which Stupid Stereotype Are You?

this quiz was made by Erin

How true is this stupid world?

Take the Purrsonality Quiz!

Purrrrrrrrrrrrr... yes well, maybe
Do I have a date?

Do I have another Date?

Me Myself and...I

There's so much talk of selfishness.
The primary function of the blog springs from that vice too doesn't it? The ownership of space that is entirely, exclusively... yours.
I have been accused of selfishness all my life.

So why scream?
We are ALL solipsistic
when I say "I want you to be happy" that comes with the prerequsite that I'm happy too.
We are all creatures of necessity, and sometimes, sadly, friendship needs a reason.
Though depressing, this is not overwhelming.
We cannot live in the romances in our minds.

It's Human nature. To question such, only reflects it so.
"why are they so darn selfish?"
They only are because i want them to think of me.
It's something I cannot purge within me, and I can only learn how to accept.
I learn to see that their fault is mine and that there is no point in doing anything but to compromise...
Maybe that's why I die.

That's why maybe, My Best Friend's Wedding is a good movie after all...

No Blood For Oil
My T-shirt annouces that I am an ardent supporter of the anti-war movement.

The ironies are astounding.

The war, in little sunny singapore, has a curious effect...
For one, differing opinions become topics of hot debate, ending in severe verbal conflict, complete with the name calling.
A war about a war.
A war on peace.

I do not agree with this war,
But I am not a pacifist.
I cannot say that war is justified,
But I do not believe that it is indespensible.

When one man wrestles alone, struggling between spirit and flesh, he symbolises war.

With all this about being one with humanity, about seeing that we are all equal and the same, that we are all HUMAN. Once we recognise this, we can do away with prejudice.

with humanity comes it's flaws, and with it, prejury.
So we become one with humanity,
We see we are all the same,
We see we are all human,
We see we are all flawed,
We see we are all inclined to prejury,
We see we are all polaric in nature.
We epitomise conflict.

Why do we try to fight against ourselves? are we not, just another war?

There are many things we cannot change... our humanity being one of them.

Peace is the greatest gift we can give our children

And we would breed an entire earthful of Singaporeans.

So I'm extreme, Yes i love peace, but not ignorance,
Without the fire there can be no strength.
We need to know when to stop. Both ways.

Thank god for our humanity.

If I were Mr Bush...
... standing at the pentagon window, watching a sea of disarrayed protestors, armed with picket fences and flowers. Chanting obscenities, laughing drunkedly, and dancing like it's a big party....

Am i supposed to stop the darn war?

I protest.
And I'd like to reflect the solomnity of the situation, the scantity of human life.
I protest.
And I'd like to show intelligence, reasonablity, and rationalism.
I protest.
And I'd like be self-aware when I do so, understanding that I am not universally correct, that my views, as his, are based on personal perception and morality, and who am I to judge?
I protest.
And I'd like to see protestors create a force to be reckoned with, a force that sways the heart, not the hand.
I protest.
I bleed.
I hurt.
I cry.
Why can't I do anything more?

Monday, March 31, 2003

I was in the shower (a most glamourous place to be sometimes) and I spoke with my imagination.

[pause] well, to be painfully honest, I don't think I'm ready yet.

Why not?

[she ponders, trying to word her feelings right] well, It's because I have always regarded the arts community in singapore as a tight circle of elites. The regard I hold for some of them is beyond the respect warrented to a senior for a junior in any other circumstance. So until I can see the artistes here as 3-dimensional individuals who incidentally spring from the same pool of humanity as i did, I will not be able to give myself the proper self-respect and understanding that I would need to utilize my full potential...

Of course, my imagination was satisfied, encouraging and impressed.

Maybe the first sign that I'm vaugely ready is when I quit living in the bathroom.

Sunday, March 30, 2003

She takes a deep breath, and holds it... for so many things.

Sometimes, being too aware is tiring.
You want to do things correctly, so you watch yourself.
You want to understand the beauty of the moment, so you watch yourself.
You want to capture the essence of what you're doing, so you watch yourself.
You want to celebrate the joy of being, so you watch yourself.

So you tend to screw up, and blame yourself.
And the beauty eludes your grasp, and you blame yourself for not being more enlightened.
The essence slips past your fingers, as delicately as time evades the mind, and you struggle with the loss.
The celebration becomes too contrived and force, and you regret not being spontanious.

Oh darn.

She slowly lets it out... hoping not to lose too much.
I cannot say when I'm ready to do this. I feel "unripe"
I was introduced to this world 2 years ago.

"Theatre, meet Hannah, Hannah, meet theatre.

We shook hands and in our youth, made a wonderful pair.

But we grow and as friends often do, we had our differences.

But now... things are so strained.

I am faced with something I had never anticipated.

How could I not see that with art is built upon people, and that one day I would have to touch them, in all their humanity, in everything that I have strived to understand, to love and yet find horrifyingly fearful.

Atychiphobia - I'm a Failure
Atelophobia - I'm not perfect
Enissophobia - I'd be criticized
Athazagoraphobia - I won't be noticed

Anthropophobia - this one, belongs to me.