Saturday, September 05, 2009

My eyes are a baptism. Oh I am filth. And sing her into my thighs, oh phantom elusive thing. One that can never be known, either all drunk with the world at her feet or sober with no place to go. We could go, we can travel round fading farther from me, with your face in my window call. When will you weep for me, sweet willow? It's ok to be angry but not to hurt me. Your happiness, yes, yes, yes... darling, darling...

All flowers in time bend towards the sun. I know you say that there's no-one for you but here is one. 
~ Jeff Buckley
Back from Bintan, baby!

I was taking a shower the other day and thought to myself: how wonderful it is to be perpetually tan, to glow gold and bright and to feel the heat of the sun washing your skin way after dark. I know, this is called cancer. But I love the tan-lines that trace around my body, a stark reminder of how alive I am.
And when I am in the wind, by water that defines turquoise, and sand so fine and fair that it threatens to swallow you whole, I want time to stop.

Thursday, September 03, 2009

I owe him a lot, so this has got to be good.
Also, I am glad that I am learning not to listen to myself at night.
Seriously, Hannah, what were you thinking?
So you see, there's a reason why you cave and crack and give in to these things and call them good. It's because you're empty, and it's difficult staying that way.

Wednesday, September 02, 2009

I love Momo from Questionable Content! I also like Momos from Tibet!

Dan Bern - Chelsea Hotel

I still smell tobacco on my fingers
My breath reeks of pot and wine and sex
My eyes open up like they haven’t in years
So I won’t miss whatever happens next
You call me a thief
All right, I'm a thief
Grab a summons
Come and ring my bell
I’ll be making love with my baby
In the Chelsea Hotel

I told you to meet me at eight o’clock
I said I’ll be drinking at the bar
I drove between Newark and Laguardia
Trying to return a rented car
We keep missing connections today
But tomorrow would be just as well
I gotta go make love with my baby
In the Chelsea Hotel

I’ve been walking all around your neighborhood
My former love
You seem as far away and as sad to me
As those rain clouds above
I hope you’re happy and whatever you're doing
I hope you're doing well
And please don’t try to contact me
At the Chelsea Hotel

I was starting to think
The world was going to end when the calendar turns
But now you’re here
I see the future, baby
And they can let the calendar burn

New love is beautiful
But new love is sad
New love brings back all the old loves
That you’ve ever had
I put out a casting call
And you cast a spell
And we’re practicing for the millennium
Making love at the Chelsea Hotel

So who knows what tomorrow brings
But I know where I’ll be waking up
Let’s just listen to our breath tonight
And the breeze through the window that you opened up
Can you feel our hearts beating
Which one's yours
Which one's mine
Y' can't tell
Just another day of making love
At the Chelsea Hotel
Spent all day making love
At the Chelsea Hotel

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

I hate missing class. I can't decide if it's kiasu-ness or my asian guilt that brings this on. I guess the idea that I'm missing out on something good even though the fact that 2 hours of sleep would = counterproductive. Also, I skipped a gazillion classes last sem, and still did well. THERE ISN'T EVEN AN EXAM!

Oh well, it's a pretty late morning here at Sembawang, and it's just about starting to rain.
I'll settle with that we all tried. Doesn't mean I'm willing to try again.
I'd really like to see where this goes.

Monday, August 31, 2009

I suspect that being hooked on Meatloaf - I Would Do Anything for Love - isn't a good sign at all.

I am a little annoyed that I got out of bed to write this.

AL and I talked a little about being idealists, romantics or whatever. And of how experiences nail such oft lofty thinkers to the ground (ala How-do-you-solve-a-problem-like-Maria style). I guess I do take back a little of what I said in that it is true that my social patterns have shifted a little (since the fall), but not by much. I think what I'm trying to get at here (at 1 in the morning) is that yes, I've spent most of my life holding onto idealist beliefs about how I ought to interact with people and about what kind of society and community I want to have and how I might contribute to that. But as time went by and things happened, I realized that I just don't have the energy to do all that and when push comes to shove, I just can't.

That being said though, I think I've found a new way of expressing strength (whatever little is left or that actually exists): Raw being. I don't need to rationalize, excuse, exaggerate or diminish anything. Or put up a wall, trivialize the moment, or derail conversations. And here is my strength in that I will let you see me here. Because I am worth that much and so are you. I am learning, learning, learning to be honest and to be vulnerable - even apart from my theories and into the reality that we make for ourselves.

Remember that talk we had, by the Tadlo falls in Lao, Thi? How we talked about the values we wanted to express in our lives? I said that I wanted all things from me to stem from Truth and Love and you wished to live through Strength and Honour. And I, being ever so obsessed with reconciliation, decided that Strength and Honour must be directed by Truth and Love, and Truth and Love, without Strength and Honour, cannot be expressed and will therefore come to nothing on their own. Sometimes I look back at wonderment at those days when all the worlds problems could be solved by a bottle of cheap beer, quiet waters and moonlight and I pray that I haven't yet failed them in the wake of these complexities. I don't think I have,and it is very exciting to see how, even in difficult times, my idealistic theories, passions and beliefs don't have to give way in substance and only, if at all, in form.

What happens when ideals DO get translated into reality? What are they called then?

ps: Thanks IL and Shubs for giving me the space to just be. And for even calling me out on dark moments, seeing completely past the fragile shells and into the meat of things. And more importantly, thank you for loving me even when you see me. Love never fails.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

It's true right? That love never fails? That love heals all things?

I've come to the conclusion that anger is a defense mechanism. Quite like shame. It distracts the feeler from the true extent of their loss. It's going to be ok and it will even be fun, but I now know what I am responsible for: only my anger and my loss. As much as it sucks, I'm not big enough to deal with everyone's anger, shame and loss. So forgive me if I can't walk with you the way I'd have wanted to, I'm just working out my own left from my right and that's about as much as I can handle.
Goodnight world... I'll see you in the morning.