BECAUSE THIS MUST BE DONE

- 2008 -

In her witching hour, she finds me silent and dead inside.

Turning back from the gate, a little smile garnished my contented spirit. A lush garden, lit by lamps that mimic the stars, the flowers sighing scents of jasmine and hibiscus, and living room love light, spewing forcefully through the front doors, assaulting the haunting night.

I collect the glasses from the table, musing about how every party finds a broken bottle somewhere. The thoughts barely leave through the back door of my mind as a bottle of root beer slips from my mother's hands, scattering glass everywhere. A deep red spot wells up on the sole of my foot.

2008 was quite possibly, the best year of my life. A new start to law school, a new programme, a sense of home growing deep in within my heart. New friendships, new spaces. And then there's Asia: my home, my sense of being, the giver of my life, my identity and purpose. India, where I loved and let love, where I hated and learned to hate myself, and then healed, where Glen promsied to love me forever, and I found heaven on an earth spinning within its own hell. And then family, (who made me swear that I wouldn't blog about them) - of Prague and Frankfurt and 7 hour busrides, pasta and 2 am conversations laughing about our reality tv shows, for letting me laugh at them.

2008 died quietly. Mostly because of fleeting pensive thoughts that, while momentary, pressed me deep into my bedsheets. Deeply.

Hello 2009. You were birthed in restlessness. You bring pensive thoughts. You will not be as warm as 2008, but you will be strong and good and pure. You will teach me many things, and I will be ready for you.

Come on Hannah, conviction not convenience, dignity not desperation. And of course you can't know these things because they were made to be unknown. So just relax and be good.

I need to get out of myself, and get some fresh air.

Randoms

Daddy said that I was fat. I concur.

When something terrible happens, I don't feel upset. Instead, I get really excited. (Ok let me qualify terrible - I really mean, something frustrating or upsetting in someone else's life) Maybe I'm just bored and need excitement in my life. But more so, I see it as an exciting challenge. Not a puzzle to solve, but rather, a new way/opportunity to show love? But mind you, I guess it just means I get bored of my relationships fast. Or I am really detached. But that's ok, turn your liabilities into assets

Never take yourself too seriously.

I am terribly distracted. Help me.

Maybe... just maybe.

Go 'way from my window,
Leave at your own chosen speed.
I'm not the one you want, babe,
I'm not the one you need.
You say you're lookin' for someone
Never weak but always strong,
To protect you an' defend you
Whether you are right or wrong,
Someone to open each and every door,
But it ain't me, babe,
No, no, no, it ain't me, babe,
It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.

Go lightly from the ledge, babe,
Go lightly on the ground.
I'm not the one you want, babe,
I will only let you down.
You say you're lookin' for someone
Who will promise never to part,
Someone to close his eyes for you,
Someone to close his heart,
Someone who will die for you an' more,
But it ain't me, babe,
No, no, no, it ain't me, babe,
It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.

Go melt back into the night, babe,
Everything inside is made of stone.
There's nothing in here moving
An' anyway I'm not alone.
You say you're looking for someone
Who'll pick you up each time you fall,
To gather flowers constantly
An' to come each time you call,
A lover for your life an' nothing more,
But it ain't me, babe,
No, no, no, it ain't me, babe,
It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.

German mornings are, I'm quite sure, the same the world over.

I'm about to leave for Germany in 1.5 hours.

I do resent the fact that I can up and leave to anywhere almost anytime I want. But I revel in that which spoils me rotten.

This isn't what it seems to be.

You asked for a story.

A long long time ago, in a land far away, there lived a little girl. She was young like spring flowers and carried the colour green well. In fact, she wore a green dress everyday. She loved people, more then herself almost, and didn't know how to stop this magic love from overtaking her mind. So she lived, everyday, in the guilt of not being big enough, capable enough, or perfect enough to take away their pain.

This was a terrible fate for a tender mind, far worse for a tender heart. But don't worry, it wasn't so bad because she lived in a world where there was so too much to do, see, touch and build. So she focused on all that her little hands and mind could create, and her guilt existed merely as a thin shade of darkness. So thin, she forgot it was there.

But the consequence of forgetting is terrible. One should never forget anything, because everything in oneself has the little fingerpints of one's soul and meaning. So to forget is like losing a piece of your soul in a departmental store, amid the busy colours and crowded rush. Yes she forgot, and it made her a little lost. So sometimes she would stare into the night sky, laden with city lights and clouds and wonder. I couldn't tell you what she wondered about, because she couldn't tell me - she was lost. See, when you are lost, even the paths that your mind travels on are unclear, as if covered in a think mist.

But she was lost and that created in her, a sense of sadness that was easily ignored, but always there. But anyhoo, there was much to do.

But one day, she got on a boat. it was a big wooden boat filled with happy people. People from everywhere who wanted to go everywhere. She stepped on in her little green dress, and from the shores of that land far away, left. It wasn't an easy journey, of course the boat needed some way to keep going so everyone was made to work. But as she was small, and young like spring flowers, she was sent to work in the little hole that led into the belly of the ship. So she worked the days away, walled up in brown darkness, feeling smaller, and younger then usual, in this strange boat with strange happy people.

And as she worked through the watery days, she remembered that she was lost, and the darkness that was kept at bay by the excitement of her business broke though, and weighed on her as the brown darkness did. Little tears welled up in her bright brown eyes as she sat down in the middle of her mind's path to admit to herself that she didn't really know where she was going. "Send me a sign" she asked goodness, "a sign of your presence". I couldn't tell you what she was hoping for because she couldn't tell me. She opened her eyes and glanced around the belly of the boat - nothing. Brown was still brown and the strange happy people were still strange.

At the end of that day, she pushed her little body out of the hole and out of the belly of the ship. The evening breeze soothed her cheek and gently brushed away the brown flecks of drit that remained from below. A seagull drifted overhead. And as she turned her eye toward its graceful path, she found the presence of goodness. Upon the sea was cast a scattering of diamonds, reflecting a brightness that would burn anyone's soul. But not hers, for she was too pure. "I am goodness" said the regal star straight to her heart, "and I am with you". His face hung low to kiss the sea, spreading the golden glow deeper into her soul.

One day, the boat came to another shore. This wasn't the land far away because it was a land even further away. She walked off the boat in her little green dress with the strange happy people and held out her hands and her heart to this new land. She wasn't afraid. Even if she was, the exciting of many things to do, see, touch and build quickly crushed up all fear into a little ball and tossed it over the deck.

The land was strange indeed, very different from the land far away that she had come from. The people were darker then her, but had whiter teeth. This made their smiles stronger then the smiles she had seen from the land far away and it made her happy to feel happiness that was strong. She also noticed that the people were smaller then her and that they lived in houses that were short and tiny. But it was ok, because they didn't seem to spend a lot of time indoors. It made her happy to be outside, in the goodness of the sun, with so many people at the same time.

One day, as she was strolling in the sun staring at this strange world, a little dark boy with white teeth reached out to hold her hand. It took him a while to find the correct tongue to speak to her in, but when they understood each other, they laughed and danced until darkness fell. He invited her into his short tiny home where they watched the telly and stared at each other when their tongues failed them.

The inside of his short tiny home was very different from the outside, as the night was to day. It was dark and empty, with the only light and sound coming from the telly. This confused her greatly, as if night had fallen suddenly when the dawn had just broken. How could this be? But the most puzzling thing, wasn't what it did to her mind, but what it did to her heart.

The darkness - her darkness - awoke. Attracted to the other darkness in the short tiny home, as if it had picked up the voracious scent on a mate in heat. It reared its sad, lonely head and became known to the little girl who was young like spring flowers. But even her soft scent and gentle touch weren't enough to reign in the darkness that rose within her and, without her even knowing, she wept. She had wept on many other occasions of course, a bruised knee, a sick pet, a harsh word. But the tears she shed here were dark and heavy, and took with with them the mist that lingered over her mind's pathways.

And when she was done crying, she turned to face her darkness as a friend. "Oh, here you are." she said as she picked up part of her soul that she had lost, remembering - remembering that she not being big enough, capable enough, or perfect enough to take away the pain of the little boy who had invited her into his short tiny home.

But that was his gift to her.

And in return, she gave her little green dress to his sister, putting on instead, one of blue and gold, native to the land even further away.

And since that day, the little girl, still fresh like spring flowers, walked hand in hand with her darkness. It is good, she thinks, that she knows her guilt of not being big enough, capable enough, or perfect enough to take away anybody's pain. But at least now, she knows enough to try.

This is a true story.

Watching Jin and Jason mind frolic through the screen, and having Jarrett msn hold me and cup my ears, I am reminded of the things I love in my other home.

and JESUS!

Just to keep the J's running.

S.

I will love you and will be here with you for as long as you remain good. You have my heart, but you do not have the rest of me, for you cannot be trusted with a mind like mine. So walk well and walk true, and let me run alongside you in love. For it is only love that I have left when you left me with no choice. It wasn't difficult decision to make to love you, because you are here in my veins.

Hannah

I'm a new soul
I came to this strange world
Hoping I could learn a bit 'bout how to give and take
But since I came here, felt the joy and the fear
Finding myself making every possible mistake


See I'm a young soul in this very strange world
Hoping I could learn a bit 'bout what is true and fake
But why all this hate? try to communicate
Finding trust and love is not always easy to make

This is a happy end
Cause you don't understand
Everything you have done
Why's everything so wrong

This is a happy end
Come and give me your hand
I'll take you far away

~New Soul :: Yael Naim

Till I leave, that is.

Morning has broken, like the smile on my face.

Maybe I'll match you in my crazy.

I actually hope I do.

[Gasp]

Here by my side; an angel,
Here by my side; the devil.
Never turn your back on me,
Never turn your back on me, again.
Here by my side, it's heaven.

Here by my side, you are, destruction.
Here by my side, a new color to paint the world
Never turn your back on it,
Never turn your back on it, again.
Here by my side, its heaven.

And you breathe in,
And you breathe out, for it.
Ain't it so weird how it makes you a weapon.

And you give in,
And you give out, for it.
Ain't it so weird how it makes you a weapon.

This is where my world drops off.

~ Weapon :: Matthew Good

This has to happen.

It Ain't Me ~ Bob Dylan

Go 'way from my window,
Leave at your own chosen speed.
I'm not the one you want, babe,
I'm not the one you need.
You say you're lookin' for someone
Never weak but always strong,
To protect you an' defend you
Whether you are right or wrong,
Someone to open each and every door,
But it ain't me, babe,
No, no, no, it ain't me, babe,
It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.

Go lightly from the ledge, babe,
Go lightly on the ground.
I'm not the one you want, babe,
I will only let you down.
You say you're lookin' for someone
Who will promise never to part,
Someone to close his eyes for you,
Someone to close his heart,
Someone who will die for you an' more,
But it ain't me, babe,
No, no, no, it ain't me, babe,
It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.

Go melt back into the night, babe,
Everything inside is made of stone.
There's nothing in here moving
An' anyway I'm not alone.
You say you're looking for someone
Who'll pick you up each time you fall,
To gather flowers constantly
An' to come each time you call,
A lover for your life an' nothing more,
But it ain't me, babe,
No, no, no, it ain't me, babe,
It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.

There are some people who go through life, making mistakes that are better left forgotten. .
There are others, who make the same mistakes, but have to keep talking about it and through it.

I'm the latter.
I wonder if that makes me any wiser, any stronger, any truer.

Dear Lord, I want truth.
Truth that is so real it consumes.

I remember daddy telling me that he told God, that if there ever comes a day when he is not convicted by the person of Christ. He's leaving the faith. Trust me to take after the blood that flows through my veins.

"Validation Error

A validation error occurred."

~ Facebook (after a failed attempt to update my status)

*sigh* now I know why I've been feeling so insecure.

Part of living well and living happy, is learning to properly manage relationships, ensuring that you do not get into situations that are needlessly frustrating or beyond your ability to handle and commit.

It's a delicate skill. Like picking up egg yolk, and removing it from the white - without creating a mess.

This isn't about what you think it is.

No illusions here. I'm not that special. :)

Good lord I miss art! Words, music, and space.

I do remember why I left the stage. I found a deeper passion in the silent darkness of the soundroom then I did in the estatic flare of the parcans and fresnels. But sometimes, it's not enough to have your expression carried through another and I sometimes feel like the notes were snatched from my mouth just as they were budding on my tongue.

All this stupid stress, and all I want to do is create flowers with my hands, and paint them with my lips.

... and, thanks for this photo.

And my very close companion...

Ah we're lonely, we're romantic
and the cider's laced with acid
and the Holy Spirit's crying, "Where's the beef?"
And the moon is swimming naked
and the summer night is fragrant
with a mighty expectation of relief
So we struggle and we stagger
down the snakes and up the ladder
to the tower where the blessed hours chime
and I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
the Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since
but closing time

The whole damn place goes crazy twice
and it's once for the devil and once for Christ
but the Boss don't like these dizzy heights
we're busted in the blinding lights,
busted in the blinding lights
of closing time

...gets me fumbling gets me laughing

~L. Cohen :: Closing time

They are leaning out for love...

I will take you down to my place near the river, you can hear the boats go by and you can spend the night beside me. And you know that I'm half crazy, but that's why you want to be here. And I'll feed you tea and oranges that come all the way from China. And just when you mean to tell me that you have no love to give me, I'll get you on my wavelength and let the river answer: you've always been my lover.

And she wants to travel with you
And she want to travel blind
And she knows that she can trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.

& they will lean that way forever

L. Cohen :: Suzanne

Bold and beautiful choices are daily made, and with them, the spectre of consequence. I've never felt the need to be protected or to protect myself, and who needs insurance anyway? If my choices are the expression of my being, let them flow and drown me.

But I do giggle tenderly at the secret lunges that loved ones make for me, as if to catch me as I dance barefoot along the razor rocks sharpened by the sea. But they forget that this is my element, and that I have wings. And even so, if I do falter and hurt myself eventually, there is always grace.

So, let me love you, because this is what I'm here for.
And even if you don't, I already have.

It's no secret that I wrinkle my nose at the idea of Human Rights. But that doesn't mean that I don't respect the underlying spirit of the cause. I am reactionary and jealously guard against notions of alienating change and externally-inspired mutation, and when the Universal Declarations of Human rights was drafted when most of the world wasn't present, that poses a problem to me.

Now that doesn't mean that I'm all up for Female Circumcision/FGC (I hesitate to use the term FGM because I think it is a biased account on the situation), or stoning or other terrible terrible things that happen. But lets not get extreme here, in either direction. Recognize an inadequate stop gap measure as an inadequate stop gap measure. Acknowledge its propensity to wreck other forms of violence upon the community.

I've grown to believe that in the light of genocide and torture, cultural integrity should give way. But I am frequently reminded that there were moments when I didn't think this way - because to some people, there are somet hings worth dying for and I should not be speaking for them. Yes, to some people, life isn't the ultimate gift, but rather, is but a means for something other.

But anyway, I'm just cautioning against one-dimensional blanket approaches toward 'Human Rights' issues - blankets suffocate. And while I am not about to be indignantly waving around a piece of text that has supposed to reach some nebulous idea of Jus Cogen, I would be quick to moarn death and pain - indescriminately; becuase life does not discriminate. A bullet in one's head isn't text, and neither is hunger.

So here we are, with our limitations, our biases, fears and hidden agendas. Some glaring and some hidden even to our secret hearts. We want to see goodness realized, but not just any goodness - it has to be OUR goodness. So lets take our crude, hand-hewn tools and go forward humbly, knowing that in our weakness, we still sow evil in our attempts to heal. Maybe that way we can turn to each other for forgiveness.

I swear it happened just like this:

And my very sweet companion
she's the Angel of Compassion
she's rubbing half the world against her thigh
And every drinker every dancer
lifts a happy face to thank her
the fiddler fiddles something so sublime

I loved you for your beauty
but that doesn't make a fool of me:
you were in it for your beauty too
and I loved you for your body
there's a voice that sounds like God to me
declaring, declaring, declaring that your body's really you
And I loved you when our love was blessed
and I love you now there's nothing left
but sorrow and a sense of overtime
and I missed you since the place got wrecked
And I just don't care what happens next
looks like freedom but it feels like death
it's something in between, I guess
it's closing time

and it's partner found, it's partner lost
and it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops:
it's closing time

Yeah I missed you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
looks like freedom but it feels like death
it's something in between, I guess
It's closing time

a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss

I'm coming to terms with the fact that I am selfish and greedy and not ready to give.

yet.

DEAR TRANSLINK - I'VE HAD IT


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Entry Type: Complaint
First Name: Hannah
Last Name: Lim
Street Address: XXXXXXXXX
City: Vancouver
Province: BC
Postal Code: V6R 2H1
Email: XXXXXXXXXXX
Contact Phone:XXXXXXXXXX
Alternate Phone:
Date of Incident: 12-07-2008
Time of Incident: 3:30p
Transit Mode: Bus
Vehicle Number:
Route Number: 17
Stop Number: 50357

Incident:

The bus just didn't come. Waited for 40 mins. And like I know you probably can't do anything about the fact that infrastructure in Canada is generally sub par, but it would be nice if, i mean if the bus breaks down, get a replacement one or something to service demand. Taking the bus should not be a stress inducing activity. But it really is. In my 6 years of living in Vancouver and dealing with Translink, I never feel confident that I can get to school/work on time because you never know when the bus will make it. It's kinda ridiculous really. So i don't really have a specific complaint but more of a general: you really need to get this act together - this isn't the first time. I mean come on, we're a developed nation, can we please not have developing country efficiency standards?

I love you!

And you... and you... and you... you too... and you...

While we were growing up together, it never crossed my mind that I would regret not being there for your weddings. And now, I am in a strange land, and you, in a worlds stranger still.

Leaving is incomprehensibly violent.

Oh well, for what it's worth. I loved you then and I still love you - then.

It's 915 on a Friday night and I'm at home (* read the Institute of Asian Research). I'm at my desk and have read 96 pages of Corps and am bored out of my mind. So I'm going to engage in some mindless blogging:

Here is my desk:



Desk from the other point of view:



Partners in Crime:







Bed:



Closet:

Ecclesiastes 1

Marry a virgin
Marry a not-a-vigin
Marry someone who sold their sex to God or men
Marry completely and give yourself whole-heartedly
To everything that wants you and everything you are

I have spent time with unspoiled birds
And genereous sunshine that taught me doing nothing
And I do recall that my very best friends are
The ones who left me empty and ready to be filled again

Your million sweetnesses are sometimes not enough
To keep me laughing at the floodtide of desire
This is how I walk when I have given up
Do you see how free the body moves
The bones inside the skin are loose
And I know if I could see you
That you'd be walking like this too
~ Diane cluck :: Yr Million Sweetnesses.

I want to be free to ----

Life is perfect

Subject: Studying in Classrooms‏
From: UBC
Sent: December 2, 2008 9:46:59 AM
To: me

This is xxxxxxx, the administrator. I know that students like to study in classrooms. Last year the classrooms were kept locked because of the messes left in them and because people moved the furniture around in the rooms. I am prepared to experiment with keeping the classrooms open, but if we find that things are left in the classrooms or that their set-up is changed, I will follow last year's practice of locking them.

Sincerely,

xxxxxxxx
Administrator
Faculty of Law, UBC
1822 East Mall
Vancouver, B.C.
V6T 1Z1

What about... bringing sleeping bags and staying for days in a row?

妈妈

I had to plug my ears with music last night before falling asleep for 4 hours. It was good. And then I find this. I want my mother.

Here we go all over again.

Dear G,

Remember that essay I did for my 3rd year sociology class? The one of the evils of education in the developing world? Where I got a whole boxload of books from 'John' and exclaimed that he was my friend?

My whole thing about how the power to deem knowledge should not be pooled into particular ethnocentric and positivist institutions? And that local, popular knowledge should not be discredited or devalued on the hierarchy of knowledge? And that there is an inherent danger in replacing local knowledge structures with other ones (the western, 'legitimate' ones) -you know, Development as AIDS model?

Well, you'd laugh to know that that train of thought has made me - lazy.

I think I've always been lazy. I mean you know me. Lazy and fearful. I wonder if you've ever tried to tell me this.

It's kind of like my struggle with race - I fear coming to terms with this, as it might mean having subconsciously lost. I don't want to be taken over by these institutions. But then I forget, that if I don't plunge in, I won't even have the opportunity to climb out.

We are overcomers because we have overcome something.

Now I'm a little afraid about this. Because it means that my capacity to create and control is severely stunted. But I think, it's ok. Because now that I know. I have something to work with.

And I know you will hold my hand and walk with me.
Isn't this exciting?! Imagine! You and me! By the waterfalls of the Jaintia hills, wondering.

I LOVE YOU!!

If you'll forgive the allusion, I tempted to open with "I've seen the future, and it works!" But the quote is apt: If Asia stays on course for the next three decades, China will be a massive version of Singapore - and India will be a massive version of Malaysia. I think I'd bet on that, but give me a few days to overcome jet lag before you propose terms. :-)

I had so many bloggable experiences in Singapore that I'll try to spread out the flow over the next month or two. For now, let me start with some observations on the people I met:

1. About 80% of the Singaporeans I met were in the Civil Service; the rest were academics and journalists. In terms of pure IQ, all of them would have been in the top half of my Ph.D. classes.

2. Even more impressive than IQs: The ubiquity of critical and creative thinking. Talking to Singapore's Civil Service is like giving an academic seminar where the audience actually pays attention. Multiple people actually asked me, "What is the ideal form of government?"

3. Scoff if you must, but Singaporean bureaucrats are less afraid to criticize their government than American bureaucrats are to criticize theirs. Neither group would be afraid of legal punishment; but the Americans would be more worried that saying the wrong thing would hurt their careers.

4. What's are Singapore's intellectual taboos? I'm still looking for one. The customs form says "DEATH PENALTY FOR DRUGS IN SINGAPORE," but when I advocated legalization, no one blinked.

5. Singaporeans often speak of their policies' "pragmatism." But their version of pragmatism is very different from ours. In the U.S., pragmatism primarily means going along with public opinion and openness to political compromise. In Singapore, in contrast, pragmatism primarily means judging policies based on their actual consequences, not their popularity. "Pragmatism" is virtually a synonym for "utilitarianism."

Example: In the American sense of the term, congestion prices for roads would not be "pragmatic" because lots of people would object. In the Singaporean sense of the term, congestion pricing for roads is "pragmatic" because it sharply reduces rush hour traffic jams. Get it?

~ Bryan Caplan

Finally!!! Someone who got it!

And here is where I'm at.

I never got the hang of this.
Too bad.

Oh yes, I know that you're not interested, I see
And I should let you go your way, that would be most mature of me
But I've thought for oh so long and had the best idea yet
That you and I would get along if you would let me be your pet

I'd be the kind to follow everywhere
You'd run your fingers through my hair
Hold me close when you've had a fright
And let me in your bed when it's cold at night
You'd rub me real nice behind my ears
And sing me songs after you've had a couple beers
Give me treats when I've done something right
And let me in your bed when it's cold at night

Oh yes, and if my offer smacks of servitude
I only need remind you true love's course has yet to run real smooth
So now if you will let me near you all the night and day
Well, you will on your own see I do plenty more than sit or stay

Oh yes, and you could ask me where's my sense of pride
And I would tell you I've not had one since I met you last July
So now you see that it is rather foolish to give up
All of the perks and all the benefits if I were your spaniel pup

You'd rub me real nice behind my ears
And sing me songs after you've had a couple beers
Give me treats when I've done something right

- Emma Wallace, Pet

Nice guys finish last.

But really, it's not about finishing first.
I'm in this race too, and really, I hope that it's about finishing the race together.

I am giving up the idea of human agency and free will - we're really wonderfully helpless beings. Or at least, somewhere in between. Or maybe, like Ying and yang, there is black and white, in balance.

Now I'm trying to understand redemption in this, very obvious, context.

During our final Comparative Law class, C does an hour long, closing presentation, summing up the course:

C: [reading his power point slides]

So basically, the entire question of Comparative Law boils down to one question....

[clicks to change slide]

"Is Singapore a western style democracy.... Hannah?"

I must've made an impression in this class.

But more notably, they've left an impression in me.
Good bye wonderful people!.

On a seperate note,
I really need to learn to deal with letting things go.
If not, it will kill me.

I really do think that I have some of separation anxiety. I'm already missing a class.

I know. I don't belong here. But still.

I think I will return to Singapore, a little more shell-shocked then usual.

I woke up this morning with a funny taste in my head.
Spackled some butter over my whole grain bread,
Something tastes different, maybe it's my tongue,
Something tastes different, suddenly I'm not so young.

I'm just a stranger, even to myself.
A re-arranger of the proverbial bookshelf.
Don't be a fool girl, tell him you love him.
Don't be a fool girl, you're not above him.

Kiss the boys as they walk by, call me their baby.
But little do they know, I'm just a maybe.
Maybe my baby will be the one to leave me sore.
Maybe my baby will settle the score.

What have I become?
Something soft and really quite dumb.
Because I've fallen, oh, 'cuz I've fall-fallen, oh 'cuz I've fall-fall-fallen
So far away from the place where I started from.

Die alone ~ Ingrid Michaelson

Walking up the stairs from the bus stop, I felt the familiar ache to create music. And then I remembered how I know nothing about this stuff and really am powerless. No instrument is my voice and I am left with feeble attempts that barely make me happy. Happiness isn't even what I'm looking for anyway. No, I know that I never bothered to understand the rules and structures, the theories and constructions of music, although I know full well that is want makes a good musician (Know your theory! - I keep pressing my brother. He has talent too good to waste on elementary self-absorption). If I wanted to express myself through music, I must learn these rules before I have any authority or strength to contemplate breaking them - to make my own, and to call it mine.

And then there's the bigger issue of my life and identity. I don't know how or when I fell asleep here, but at some point, the struggle stopped, and I let the Angel go without giving me a name. My name. I don't know if it was because I was afraid, or because I was tired. But at any rate, I'm left here, whole and intact, which isn't always a good thing.

Not that I'm freaking out or anything. More like sitting in the dust, at midday, dirty and confused, woken by a passing stranger - he introduced himself as Disappointment, and said that he couldn't stick around, but might come back to check on me. Oh well. I stare at my hands and wonder if my legs still work. But before I figure that out, let me lie here a little while longer, while I try to make sense of it all. Maybe the Angel will come back and give me a second chance for more then a name.

Or maybe I should just get the fuck up and see if I can still walk. I'd limp through eternity if it meant that I could dance the truth. Just give me the guts to face You again until you break me, please.

Yes and no. To it all.

Memories :: The Woman in a Tree on the Hill



Where are we now?

When I am afraid and shy about myself, with others. I know there's something wrong. We weren't meant to be this way. Can we just love? Please?

I go home to Singapore to reconstitute myself.

"You need to work on your catch and release policy, Hannah"
~ Mellow.

I'm running away!

So what do I do with a truth that has finally hatched? When thoughts are birthed into reality, in the hands of another? It's ok. I'll wrestle it out.

Cause = Time

You come in, check my time
You've got fornication crimes
I've seen your hope on television
Where you've been, you were not were
They've got tricycles in skirts
This is a mouth that needs religion

And they all want to love the cause
'Cause they all need to be the cause
They all want to fuck the cause

So take me down, down through this
Kill the common law that missed
This is the blood I love to share

Little pistols and companion halls
Desperation tentacles
I've been alone since '89

We've got a menstruating disguise
Then know three completes the five
This is a church that should believe

And they all want to free the cause
'Cause they all need to dream a cause
They all need to be a cause

You've got all and it's
Pretty good, but I
Seem to be in disbelief

You come in, check my time
You've got fornication crimes
I've seen your death on television
Cue immortal child like times
Separation is divine
Here is a strike beneath your knees

And they all want to love the cause
'Cause they all need to be the cause
They all want to fuck the cause

Take me down, down through this
Kill the white within the bliss
Here is a waiting room
That wants to save your life

And they all want to love the cause
They all need to be the cause
They all want to dream a cause
They all need to fuck the cause

~ Broken Social Scene

I have this irrational itch to express some form of identity or meaning. I feel like this itch is just half way up my back and I can't reach it. Maybe I need someone to scratch this for me. Or, I could jump on some analytical tool/theory/truth and use that as a back-scratcher.

Wait this analogy doesn't really work because I am flexible enough to reach around every part of my back.

But anyway. I leave at midnight and through out my journey into the crisp silent night, I find my eyes drawn to my feet. As if a heavy burden rested above my brows. White on black and pink on white, I watch my steps and forget to look into your eyes and at my hands. I am fascinated by the interplay between the bright shoe-shape and the stark grey grids, I forget to look into your eyes and at my hands.

I reach the busloop at 12.38, only to discover that the next bus was leaving at 1.01. Dammit. So I sit down on the concrete roadblocks in front of the idle number 17 and stare at UBC's uninspiring buildings. She tells me again that I never get gritty on myself, as she did 6 years before.

So I peel away Radiohead from my ears and sit. I sit. I walk into myself and start to look around - what is this? And then Volley-ball boy walks right out of A&F land and strikes up a conversation. I never turn people away.

But I do need silence.

So young and so untender?
So young my lord, and true.

King Lear ~ W. Shakespeare

Almost an experiment

Where a fiery block of coal sits burning on table for too long, all that's left is an immense sense of loss.

*deer in headlights*
But these headlights don't hurt.

Warmed with wine, I am content to sit at my cozy carrel, listening to mellow music and pondering upon the laws of evidence. It seems so idle, when I could really be saving the world, loving one heart at a time.

You tell me I'm foolish. I smile and hold your hand - I know.

You do know that I care right?

Yeah, we really only accept the love we think we deserve.

And it's not that you deserve someone better. You deserve a better me.

This is why I love the boyfriend. In the midst of our communication and distance issues, he proposes we write each other poems.

So much to say, but nothing to say it with.

Again, I am Utahraptor!

STOP IT!
~ Glappy.

I was in a bar till 2 am this morning talking with friends about the stuff that makes up our days. I don't get it anymore. We complicate things when we only really need to love. Everything was built to keep us together, so we really ought to start from that premise and work towards healthy resolutions.

Really, what needs to happen is the redemption of expression - we need to be able to tell people that we love and affirm them without the fear of sounding creepy, sparking fear or raising suspicion.

Am I just crazy?

You know you're Singaporean when the dictionary in your handphone (cellphone) gives you 'Otah' before 'Much' when composing an SMS (text message).

[Posted on Monday, November 18, 2002]

For the past 5 years

Edwardian style

...There is only one man in my life who has ever... made me happy. Do you know that? One!...

...who is out there somewhere in the dark... who is good to me, and whom i revile; who understand me, and whom i push off; who can make me laugh and I choke it back in my throat; who can hold me, at night, so that it's warm, and whom i will bite so there's blood; who keeps learning the games we play as quickly as i can change the rules; who can make me happy and I do not wish to be happy, and yes I do wish to be happy... sad, sad, sad.

Sad.

...whom I will not forgive for having come to rest; for having seen me and having said: yes; this will do; who has made the hideous, the hurting, the insulting mistake of loving me and must be punished for it... sad sad sad

Sad.

...who tolerates, which is intorerable; who is kind, which is cruel; who understands, which is beyond comprehension...

... sad, sad, sad.

Some day... hah! some night... some stupid liquor-ridden night... I will go too far... and I'll either break the man's back... or push him off for good... which is what i deserve

~ Edward Albee

I guess I got what I deserve.
And it might not be a bad thing.

Isn't everything that we do a contradiction?

At the IAR

[Professor L walks by my office, does a double take and stops to stare at my desk through the window. I look back, chewing, convinced he's eyeing my cinnamon bun.]

Professor L: What Whiskey is that?

Hannah: What??

Professor L: What Whiskey is that?

Hannah: [Picks up the glass bottle of Cherapunji honey from my desk] It's honey. From India. I'm not a lawyer yet.

Jin says that there is an Ani song for every kind of relationship imaginable. I think she's right.

"Untouchable Face"

think i'm going for a walk now
i feel a little unsteady
i don't want nobody to follow me
'cept maybe you
i could make you happy you know
if you weren't already
i could do a lot of things
and i do

tell you the truth i prefer
the worst of you
too bad you had to have a better half
she's not really my type
but i think you two are forever
and i hate to say it but
you're perfect together

so fuck you
and your untouchable face
and fuck you
for existing in the first place
and who am i
that i should be vying for your touch
and who am i
i bet you can't even tell me that much

two-thirty in the morning
and my gas tank will be empty soon
neon sign on the horizon
rubbing elbows with the moon
a safe haven of sleepless
where the deep fryer's always on
radio is counting down
the top 20 country songs
and out on the porch the fly strip is
waving like a flag in the wind
y'know, i don't look forward
to seeing you again soon
you'll look like a photograph of yourself
taken from far far away
and i won't know what to do
and i won't know what to say

except fuck you...

i see you and i'm so perplexed
what was i thinking
what will i think of next
where can i hide
in the back room there's a lamp
that hangs over the pool table
and when the fan is on it swings
gently side to side
there's a changing constellation
of balls as we are playing
i see orion and say nothing
the only thing i can think of saying

is fuck you...

I'm going back for Christmas.

Now the real question is: Am I going to let this all go to waste?

But I can't up and do when my mind need to tricked into believing.

I have all this affection and it has no where to go. Either that, or I just really need to create art.

I just want to sit around and love.

Dear Lord, I am stretched out thin. Only by your grace and strength.

This is just. so. me.

A-heh-heh-heh.

I will tell you firmly and without resentment: Do not patronize me.

In other news, I do not mind being being used as emotional tissue paper, I feel like this is what I'm here for. I am SUPER ABSORBENT and LONG-LASTING. Sort of like a tampon.

No, seriously.

You know what you are Hannah? You're a white cat walking backwards

And

Blah blah blah blah blah. You got that? Put that on your blog!

~ Matt Anderson

I was going to write a long rambling post about fishball kway tiao, TKGS pinafore, white shoes and loose socks, and saturday morning drama club CCA sessions

I think that my parents sometimes look at us and freak out a little inside - "where the hell do these things come from??".

After that moment, they simmer down and figure out that these things will sort themselves out, and then return to their sudoku puzzles.

I don't know if I've found it in myself to forgive (read: let go) yet.

But it's such a small blip in my life, a fleck on my porcelain skin.

Shall we kiss on the lips or will I say that I'm sorry?
That on any other day of the week I would have asked you back
But tonight I'm a mess and I'm afraid that you'll worry
And it seems so easy to tell myself that, tell myself that
Tell myself that's true
But I hope it's fooling you

'Cause I tried to decide to be good when I'm lonely
But I can't when this day is full of things that bring out the worst in me
And we're both aware that I can't help but stare, but stare at you
Can't help but stare at you

And all I need is time
To grow up, to grow bored, and to grow wise, but
You're so, you're so beautiful tonight

As stories go, I don't know
I could be your anticlimax
I could disappoint you slowly but surely
And you won't know 'til you try
'Til you dare to waste your time
If I could be the anticlimax of your life

So can we sit side by side and talk about nothing?
Well, any excuse is all that I want right now
And I'm charmed and entertained by all of the strangest things
Hey, you are one come do your worst, but kiss me first
Then do your worst to me

Oh, 'cause all I need is time
To grow up, to grow bored, and to grow wise
But you're so, you're so beautiful tonight

As stories go, I don't know
I could be your happy ending
I'm a long shot at the best of times
But then you never know, stay and see
How you might be waiting for me
And stranger things have happened and see, happened and see
Happened and see, oh

All I need is time
To grow up, to grow bored, and to grow wise, but
You're so, you're so beautiful tonight
Oh, you're so, you're so beautiful tonight

Anticlimax ~ Kat Flint

Hasn't this always been my story?

I am having such a good time here.

5 times a week, is that too much?

Have I mentioned how happy I am?

I am hungry for good korean food.

For the first time, I'm feeling perfectly competent, just inexperienced.

While it feels good, it doesn't actually translate to any substantial practical differences for the present.

In the flurry of recent bad news, I have been very afraid. I just want to grab everyone that I love, scrunch up into a little ball, and keep them safe. Instead I am called to go fearlessly into the dark night, and I will if you hold my hand.

There are so many things that I am not ready for, and I've decided that I ought not to beat myself up over it. I'm tumultuous in my creative process. And that's ok.

I am good. I can do this.

I'm so sorry.

I never knew Yes. And I have never known their love. But it probably was the greatest thing that ever lived.

I realized that I was 2 minutes early when I was passing by the purple flowers that were wilting in front of Koerner Library. I stopped because they were beautiful and I had time - 2 minutes. The sun was bright, it wasn't too cold and the mountains loomed in the distance, arching beyond the rose garden. The air was light. Everything seemed steeped in this incredible sense of being. Each shade of purple, red and green had its own destiny and purpose. Even the purple flowers, matyred in the Autmn chill seemed to be testament to a life well lived.

I don't slow down enough.

Ok. Wow.

So election time rolled by on Tuesday October 14th, and I didn't vote. Granted I did take my passport with me in case I changed my mind in the last minute . I was considering voting, but between a 5 hour mediation session, a late afternoon seminar and the flu, I didn't have the time to change my mind.

But upon careful consideration, I realized that the only thing that was influencing me to vote that day was peer pressure. Martin was mad at me, Jarrett was sad, Jin was incredulous and everyone was voting out at UBC campus. It just seemed like the thing to do. After all, there was a flashy poster telling me that democracy needed my help, right next to the rock band competition poster, and my heart warmed up a little when I saw a very enthused member of the green party waving his cute placard around. He smiled at me. I love tiny connections like these.

On hind sight, it would've been easy to vote and I wouldn't be sitting here blogging about this. But there have been things stewing in my mind that seemed to have solidifed with my anti-decision, and I am quite pleased about it, much to the ire of a lot of people (especially Martin). Here's an attempt to articulate some of this.

1) I'm not involved

I am Canadian by birth but not by involvement. I am, by some definition, a third-culture kid and my emotional links with Canada are few, despite having been here for 11 years (aged 1 - 5 and 18- 24). To answer Anonymous on J's blog:

" ' ... she rejects the Western fetish for democracy. The system - no, not first-past-the-post, but the smug idea that democracy is really the best system - is something in which she refuses to play a part. ...'

Perhaps she would feel more at home in Russia , China , Pakistan or Saudi Arabia.

I wonder if your friend has every been outside comfortable North America."

Yes, I have been outside of comfortable north America. I grew up in Singapore and have travelled somewhat extensively. And FYI, by Singaporean standards, North America is not that comfortable, actually. Yes anon, there are people who, having been to North America, feel that it's not all that hot, but that's besides the point. I don't vote because I don't belong here.

2) I don't know.

I don't know anything about Canada, because I am not interested. I barely remember who John A. Macdonald is and I couldn't tell you ANYTHING about Canadian history, much less about what the different political parties stand for.

On that note, I do not want to cast an uninformed vote. If I undertake to fulfill this 'duty' to participate in forming the government, I would want to take that duty seriously and not be reckless or negligent about it. Now I could go and read up and make myself informed, but there is no impetus for me to. Somewhat due to point number 1. But mostly due to other reasons which I will formulate below.

3) I do not agree with this expression of democracy

I am not saying that I disagree with Democracy. I am saying that I do not take to kindly to how this theory of social organization has been expressed. It's like forcing me to choose between a Filet o' Fish and McNuggets when I hate macdonalds - but it does not follow that I reject the concept of food. There are other ways of organizing the process of citizen participation and I'm not too fond of how it's done here.

And to further clarify, while I'm cool with the idea of democracy (and I do quite like it in my life - to a certain extent), I'm not for the idea that it's the only correct form of government. I think that such a claim is... well... limited and myopic. I am open to the idea (truth/fact?) that various socio-cultural contexts have created varying forms of government, and some forms are more suited to a particular culture then others. But this is a discussion for another day.

3a) What's wrong with the expression of democracy in Canada?

Well, I wouldn't be so pompous as to say it's wrong per se. I just don't think it's adequate enough for me to render my participation.

Firstly, in the words of my libertarian friend,

"I do not believe that the government represents me, the government governs me".

I do not think I could find a party who represents my policy inclinations, as they are supposed to. I would be reduced to finding a party that I disagree with the least. I do not feel comfortable in forcing my political identity into the ballot box - it destroys the nuances and labels me left-wing, right-wing, green and what have you not. But I am not that. It is the nuances that are important to me.

And this leads into my second point, while I am interested in government policies and how they affect the lives of people, I am more interested in the bigger picture: not just about what policies different parties have, but what is the theoretical approach society has, as a whole, toward various issues: relationships, power, money, otherization etc.

Basically, I am interested in the ontological questions that inform our politics. I believe that if and ontological and paradigmatic changes can be sparked, problems can be dealt with at a deeper, more organic and holistic level.

Here's an example, lets look at sickness in our society. Politics would dictate that we look at policies to address illness and the healthcare system. My natural reaction is to look at the idea of health in our society. As a friend once told me, the rhetoric of the medical field defines "health" as the absence of pain. However there are other definitions that could possible be contemplated, such as the capacity to deal with pain.

Now translate that into policy and we get wildly different approaches in dealing with the terminally ill and permanently disabled. In a society where health is the absence of pain, the underlying theoratical implication of that would be that a healthy society is one where there is no sick, aged and handicapped people - wouldn't it then be easier to box these people away for the sake of efficiency?

In the alternative, if health is the capacity to deal with pain, we're looking at a society that learns to incorporate the sick, aged and disabled to be a natural part of our society, to the point where their 'conditions' cease to be conditions. It's kinda like what we're doing with race.

That's just an example with what I do when faced with political issues. You can disagree with me on the above points but I'm just trying to illustrate how I do not see a point in debating policy choices since the differences between them usually stem from a difference in ontology and paradigms. And it is on this level that I seek to engage in. Since there wasn't a platform to express this on October 14th, I didn't care.

3b) What's wrong with the expression of democracy in Canada?

I think the thing that irks me most is this: While the point of democracy is to engage, most people are reduced to bickering. Here is when I dissolve into a rant: Like COME ON NOW. Don't write someone off because he's a Liberal in the bible belt or a Conservative in the west coast. People have different opinions because they're different people. Geez! How hard is that to understand?? I don't want to be labeled because I do not want to be cut off from people who would disagree with me. It's like how I am cautious about labeling myself a Christian - which I am, because the term comes with so much baggage. But there is more to me then a political or religous ideology. And if anyone knew me, they would know that I am more then that.

Anyway that's besides the point. I'm fed up with people bikering and getting all snarky when their party of choice loses. You know that whole "if you don't vote you don't have a right to complain" thing. WRONG. As my very wise libertarian friend says, it's

"if you DO vote, you DON'T have a right to complain"

Because in participating in the process, you are agreeing to abide by the rules which include ACCEPTING that your party of choice might not win. Sulking about it only proves that you probably don't. quite. understand. democracy. Argh. By not voting, I can claim that I did not agree to be governed (by any party that wins) and hence can complain - I just shouldn't expect to be heard.

So that's just that. When it comes to politics, people in general don't seem to engage meaningfully. They bicker and try to one up each other and freak out the population into voting for them, when they should simply present their views and policies and allow people to CHOOSE. The point of a democracy is that individual choices should be respected. But respect is exactly what seems to be lacking in this whole fiasco.

I do not want to be a part of this. I'd rather spend my time and energy loving people. grah.

4) Fetish

The west has a fetish for democracy. It's a nice thought. But it isn't for everyone. I mean.... that every nation should be democratic is an argument that bites itself in the ass. Democracy must necessarily mean that there are a myriad of competing views which, by a process of engagement and civil participation, the majority wins while respecting the minorities (especially in the Canadian context). I mean if there weren't different views, the whole voting process would be moot. So in a global context, Democracy is but one participating view. Just one out of many, and you can disagree, but that is not a cause for disrespect.

And while we're at it, I have one last gripe. I think more people need to get out of "comfortable North America". And NO, a couple of full moon parties in Thailand do not count. I am sick of people telling me that my point of view is a result of having been "brainwashed". Do you honestly think that because you're told that you have free access to information that you actually do? And that no one controls the information that feeds into you? or the way that it is framed?

Capitalism and democracy are ideologies, like any other and they need the belief of their subjects to perpetuate themselves. I think that people here are brainwashed into thinking that this system is the best that exists. I mean it might well be, I'm not saying that it isn't - although I wouldn't be so quick to conclude on this point.

But being brainwashed with the truth, is still being brainwashed. And if one day the truth changes, you're fucked.

I have celebrated my life over the past month. But I am now mourning for others.

Be strong.

I am so grateful for the different people in this world. If we were all the same, who would laugh at us and make fun of our idiosyncrasies?

The sun sets it's all it should be, a quiet evening home.
The sun sets it's all it should be, my heart is harder then stone.
Don't make it all a waste and save a life or two.
The sun sets and it's all gone, please rain on tomorrow's fire




Tomorrow there will be fire, and we'll fight this fire forever.
We may cry, now and then the heat will dry our tears
It won't leave even for a moment.

All we have is here and now, not in yesterday
All we really need is one another.

This Fire ~ Daniel Lim

Tomorrow is an important day, even though I'm not partaking of it in the usual way.

He loves you yeah yeah yeah!

I know Hannah. Of course I know. Everyone knows. The blind man the corner knows.
~ Jin, over our Crepe breakfast.

I am giving thanks, this thanksgiving, for having three turkey dinner invites, a crepe breakfast and all of you.

I wanna go where the mountains are high enough to echo my song
I wanna go where the rivers run deep enough to drown my shame
I wanna go where the stars shine bright enough to show me the way
And I wanna go where the wind calls my name
The wind is calling India, India, India
~ India Arie

In the morning I awoke with a start. It was a nightmare, albeit at 10 am. I dreamt that I had bed bugs in my bed - huge ones. I tossed around for a bit to regain my composure, settling down only after convincing myself that no, I didn't need to tell Joy that we needed to get exterminators in and that I needn't bag all my possessions - again.

I turned to my window to watch the sunrise behind the north shore mountains, laced in mist and the orange glow. My bed is new, cosy and warm, with sheets that have been mine for 5 years. I am cradled. I was going to be late for breakfast - crepes, coffee and fruit. I continued to watch the mountians and started to wonder if I was happier here then in Singapore. Then it dawned on me that home was shifting. I wasn't sad, but rather filled with wonder - that Singapore is no less home to me as Vancouver enlarged itself in my heart. Am I growing bigger on the inside? I felt little heart tentacles stretch out for within my chest, as if to grab hold of the essense of my relationships here in Canada. A part of me.

Jin calls. It's 10.15, and I am already loving the day.

I get ridiculously emotional!

rawr.

The time between meeting and finally leaving is sometimes called falling in love.

It's ok to be broken.

During the mock interview, I became acutely aware of the joy of the present. I am not applying for summer jobs, so that doesn't loom on my mind. Although I really should get on looking for a practicum position. Anyhow, summers, articles, big firms, small firms... it's ok. My future's bright. Even the Naga medicine man told me so. But in all, I felt a confidence descend on me - that it will be more then ok. It will be wonderful.

You know me.
Well maybe.
Maybe it's me.
Maybe I do prowl between the lines looking for traces of history
trances of me.
But even so, I'm ok with that.
I'm unapologetic about my hostility
and I guess I have to break somewhere.
So it's here where the closest hurts the most-est.
And you know that I wouldn't rend us disrespect,
and give it any less, or let it rest
as if it never happened.

But it does not mean that I am unhappy.
Or that I care.

I don't want to go into the world with this sense of asuming that I know exactly what I should do and be, or that such an identity has already be set in stone for me. It only leads to guilt and frustration, the suppression of possibilities and a ridiculous sense of inadequacy. None of that should be, because God's burden is easy and his yoke is light, and we were made to celebrate Him and to glorify Him by enjoying Him forever.

So I'm here on a glorious Sunday afternoon, doing what I do.

I got home at 12.30 last night. Full of beef choke (congee) and affection for this world. My hair smelled of the bar - a salty-sweet concoction of alcohol, smoke, sweat (mostly not mine) and dying summer rain. I showered and crawled into bed, aching like a marathon runner. My neck was sore from too many dips on the dancefloor. Whiplash maybe? I couldn't turn over to get into a more comfortable spot without feeling my muscles groan I think I over did it dancing this time. Tried to make it for 930's yoga session but at 830 my parched and aching body was not going to let up.

"I've been here for 5 weeks, but I think I've heard her complain about over-doing-it-at-the-party-the-night-before on 4 seperate weekends." Martin to James, after watching Get Smart at the SUB, and before painfully turning down Jin's imploring request for a beer.

I'm now in IKE, music in my head and my Corporations textbook on my knee. My life is perfect (except for my lost necklace and the missing heart that fell out from my wallet). As I told Jarrett, Soush and Martin, it's not so much that there are people who are here for me, it's having people who let me be there for them.

I want to be an egg and sleep in an incubator.

Whitie Tighties

Here are the results

Jarrett Likes
Apologies
Appearing to Enjoy Classical Music
Arts Degrees
Asian Fusion Food
Awareness
Bad Memories of High School
Book Deals
Coffee
Dinner Parties
Diversity
Facebook
Farmer’s Markets
Gentrification
Gifted Children
Graduate School
Grammar
Having Gay Friends
Irony
The Ivy League
Kitchen Gadgets
Knowing What’s Best for Poor People
Lawyers
Living by the Water
Microbreweries
Music Piracy
Musical Comedy
Not having a TV
Plays
Recycling
St. Patrick’s Day
Sushi
Sweaters
T-Shirts
Tea
The Onion
Vintage
Wine

Hannah Likes
80s Night
Apologies
Apple Products
Architecture
Arrested Development
Arts Degrees
Awareness
Barack Obama
Being an expert on YOUR culture
Being Offended
Book Deals
Children’s Games as Adults
Coffee
The Daily Show/Colbert Report
Difficult Breakups
Dinner Parties
Dogs
Facebook
Farmer’s Markets
Film Festivals
Girls with Bangs
Graduate School
Grammar
Hating Corporations
Having Black Friends
Having Gay Friends
Indie Music
Irony
Japan
Juno
Knowing What’s Best for Poor People
Lawyers
Living by the Water
Marijuana
Modern Furniture
Mos Def
Music Piracy
Musical Comedy
Natural Medicine
Non-Profit Organizations
Not having a TV
Plays
Religions their parents don’t belong to
Sarah Silverman
Scarves
Self Aware Hip Hop References
Shorts
St. Patrick’s Day
Study Abroad
Tea
Toyota Prius
Traveling
Vintage
Wes Anderson Movies
Wine
Writers Workshops
Yoga

Verdict:
Jarrett: 38
Hannah: 57

Hannah's more white.

Home, Truely?

I can't quite decide what to make of JBJ's life, or death, mostly because I never really gave much thought to politics. I'm an LKY supporter for a variety of reasons, but when I saw JBJ's death on the news my heart stopped. Mostly because I mis-read it and thought it was "Singapore's Leader" (I don't know what I'd do if LKY were to go), but also because he's been quite the land mark in Singapore. If anything, to me, he represents an undying love for a nation that has dealt him a heavy hand. A passion for the people who, for the most part, have left him to fight this battle alone. I'd like to love Singapore that way too, but not through politics (obviously).

Anyway, I was very nervous that the Singapore press would demonize him... [[edited :: 0030 hrs]]

Rest in peace Mr Jayaretnam - I never had a chance to vote, and it probably would never have gone to you, but you will be missed. Not just by me but by the entire nation. And while you never won the votes, I think that in a way you have won our hearts.

I did speak with you once, I believe, outside the ICA. I think I was in the middle of figuring out my Citizenship status. Looking back, I note the irony.

Watching you die

I kept what you had blogged me on my computer. That was 4 years ago when it brought me to tears. Re-reading it had the same effect on me today because I love you. And I know that that doesn't matter to you now, but I hope that I will matter to you again, at some point. Right now, I'm learning to be patient. But I hope you know that I will always be there for you. I think you know that, and a little part of you feels guilty about running to me as a last resort, without really knowing what to do with our friendship. But you can't quite deal with the latter right now. I don't mind, I have my own life to lead too and it is very full. And as much as I'd love for you to be in it, I know I can't be demanding, You are, after all, still so young. You'll somehow always be 16 to me.

Ok. I've had it. I'm not the biggest authority on politics and world events (I did think Kofi Annan was Samuel L Jackson and still can't quite tell you what NATO is), but here's my two cents.

I mean free speach is great and all, especially in this time of election fever. But when it's reduced to unqualified name-calling it has no value and is dangerous. I say this particularly because I am within the context of the university where, you would expect, individuals to be a little more educated and well thought-out.

You can't call Bush a moron and expect us to take it. Being in Vancouver does not mean that you need not back up baseless arguements that seem to regurgitate mainstream discourse. You can't just sit around and poke fun at Palin and what have you not if you're not going to tell me WHY they're bad ideas. Being conservative is not enough. Maybe it's because I grew up in a one-party state, but I find it terribly elementary to pidgeon hole everything with shallow labels.

But that's all besides the point. Kick me for not having a sense of humour, but I think poking fun at minority political views is tantamout to ideological discrimination. If someone can't spell out their political views without fearing a negative reaction, then we've lost sight of what it means to be a democracy. You're supposed to engage goddammit, not senselessly intimidate each other with what's politically popular.

Of course, my feathers ruffle when my friend tells me that he loves McCain and what America stands for, and that he lingers on the otherside of the Huntington fence as I do. But give him a chance to explain why, and it makes sense. Not to say that I agree with him, but I would not take him to be a fool, and, I learn.

So what I see now, is a politically-illiterate mass, thinking that they know what it means to have a democracy since they can arrogantly belittle the views of others when they themselves have not put much thought into their own. If political ideology were like skin colour, things would be a little different.

I'd like to think, that if one really has thought through their stand on things, they'd respect another's opinion, because they would know what it takes to come to a personal conclusion. And from respect comes engagement, didectic discourse and a richer, more substantial democracy.

In my disgruntled state, I'm feel like this society is a farce. Give me Singapore's one party state anytime.

So between Hannah and Jarrett....



Who's more white?

... Akan Datang

I don't know what to make of this.

Resolution:
To not cop out.

Yes I know it was late
We were greeting the sun
Before long
And you live with someone
I live with somebody too
Leave it there
For safe keeping
One of the west village in plains
That was the custom
Come dawn

On the walls of the day
In the shade of the sun
We wrote down
Another vision of us
We were the challengers of
The unknown
"Be safe" you say
Whatever the mess you are you're mine okay
That is the custom
I'm down

Until I see you around
Until we clear the accounts
Leave it there
Leave it to us
We are the challengers of
The unknown

Challengers ~ The New Pornographers

Life can be so wonderfully insufficient. There's too much to be grasped, so we sit, hands tied, with nothing more to show then confusion and contentment - at least on my part.

Holy shit, we need this!

And this too, will pass

Out in the garden where we planted the seeds
There is a tree as old as me
Branches were sewn by the color of green
Ground had arose and passed it's knees

By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top
I climbed the tree to see the world
When the gusts came around to blow me down
I held on as tightly as you held onto me
I held on as tightly as you held onto me

And I built a home
For you
For me

Until it disappeared
From me
From you

And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust

To Build a Home ~ Cinematic Orchestra

So I shouldn't be too upset about losing my favourite necklace.
Weh....

The sweetest thing I've ever known?

THE BOYFRIEND:

you are close to perfect

just that u like to cop out

i actually spend some nights thinking about why did dennis REALLY leave you...

....

i believe..

he considers you to be so full of shit it is reprehensible

I eat a grapefruit almost every night.

I can be so foolish at times.

Missing

I like impressing you and watching you laugh. Being silly and feeling you hold me. Holding on tight and feeling your fingers brush lightly against my skin, as if you were afraid of breaking me. But as I've always said, I'm tougher then I look. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I miss you.

Back to Ike.

Check your handbook
It's no trick
Take the chapstick
Put it on your lips
Crack a smile
Adjust my tie
Know your boyfriend, unlike other guys

~ Oxford comma by Vampire weekend