Poet, but we aren't perfert things in poetry
The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me. Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe Lightly, through their white swaddlings, like an awful baby. Their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds. They are subtle: they seem to float, though they weigh me down, Upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their colour, A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck. (Sylvia Plath)

stories, photographs, drop hearts




Tuesday, November 10, 2009 3:25 PM

Tuesdays with Morrie:

I've finished yet another awesome stepping stone in literature! I suppose you could say that I'm reading with the appetite of the giant panda again. 'Tuesdays with Morrie' is one spectacular book. A must-read-before-you-die book. It really did put things in perspective for me, in a more philosophical sense. And if you know me, you'd know how hard it is to get me this inspired. But this book has done it. It has taken questions that I've asked myself and explained them more fully than I'd ever bother to answer or questions that hell, even I haven't asked yet.

I loved every minute of it. It had this honest way of portraying the precarious nature of life and it's inhabitants. It showed all the mistakes humans make, generation after generation, and yet, it did not condemn. Morrie's the type of guy you'd love to have as your father. For at least a day.

Moonlight is bleeding from out of your soul.

Friday, November 06, 2009 8:58 PM

"The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one."

(The Catcher in the Rye)

Thursday, November 05, 2009 11:50 PM

"You don't have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them."

I just finished reading The Catcher in the Rye. And I read like three quarters of the book still wondering why it was crowned a must-read piece of literature. I wouldn't even consider it literature. Until I got to the last quarter of it. And when all the pieces of information you knew all along came building up together and revealing itself to you, you couldn't help but wonder how you sort of knew it already but never really knew it at the same time. Literature is confusing and I always remember what my mum, coach and a bunch of other literature-ish people tell me when I tell them how many people fear literature: "They are cowards." I guess I've always wondered why people feared literature. I had always classified it as an illogical fear. Probably because lit is the only time when you truly dig down into the human spirit and delve into its inner most recesses. And well, to me, it seemed irrational to fear what was, at heart, ourselves.

Which got me thinking about man's greatest fear. Death seemed like the most plausible answer. But apparently, it wasn't philosophical enough. Man's greatest fear would be themselves, plainly because it's the road men fear treading. They fear that when they ask those questions, they already know the answers. And they don't like the answers that echo away in their mind, far away.

I think even if I were to one day live like I had always wanted, in my reveries, lost in books in a february afternoon, I would tread everywhere, and I mean everywhere except in my inner most being. Because I fear what I might find. I'm as cowardly as mankind is. And that will serve as a constant reminder that I am, in fact, human.

Wednesday, November 04, 2009 9:24 PM

The Problem With Writers:

Nowadays, life actually is "Fine" and not just a lie I tell people who ask to get them off my back. But the big revelation is that when life's 'fine', it is both awfully mundane and awfully unrewarding. The sad truth is that all the pain and heartache your little life gets when it's throne and tossed about in the stormy waves of the sea actually teaches you something. Makes things (and life), interesting. Gives you purpose. Maybe not in the sense that we all would like. But even when we don't admit it, pain is something inevitable. You can't live with it, you can't live without it.


On a side note, I saw this on facebook through some extremely random connection and I thought it was adorable.

Employer: God
Position: Son
Time Period: August 2006 - Present
Description: Abundantly paid, well fed and happy.

I've been listening to the most unrelated songs recently. I can go from everything in the same alphabet like from the Beatles to Bee Gees to Billy Joel. Then I can go to Patty Griffin, to Pete Yorn to Priscilla Ahn, to Pogo, to Porcupine Tree. And then as I try falling asleep, songs like 'Hey Jude', 'How Deep is Your Love' and 'Lazarus' keep playing again and again in my mind. There are a million songs I want and everybody doesn't have them so I have to download all of them from Youtube which, sadly, isn't the best quality. But Justin says I'm the most patient in finding excellent quality uploads from Youtube, and maybe he's right.

After hearing Justin sing all the Jack Johnson songs and hearing Leroy play 'Better Together' on the guitar during Performing Arts, I want to download all his songs. Gah. So many songs, so little time. I haven't been practising the guitar too. Having friends like Dylan, Liam and Leroy who play so incredibly well can be horribly demoralising. Wonderfully long hands, an absolute apt for memorising chords and playing strum patterns by ear. I remember someone calling the music I play "classical shit" when I was in primary school. I should stick to my classical shit.

It's only a matter of time before Justin gets off his lazy bum and make an effort to learn how to play the guitar and he'll be able to play all my favourite songs to be through skype instead of having to drag his keyboard to the webcam.

Extended curriculum is as dry as a bone. I got to school an hour earlier because mum couldn't send me earlier and I was too much of a bum to go myself. After all, I'd have to wake up just as early anyway and probably would get less sleep. So I got to school, read two and a half chapters of The Catcher in the Rye and slept for slightly less than an hour with my headphones on. Huifang came in later and woke me up when Miss Ng was here. And the whole of A math, when Death Cab for Cutie kept resounding in my head, I knew that it was time to look for better songs to fall asleep to. John Jackson is amazing. I keep bugging Justin to record him singing John Jackson, but it wouldn't sound a nice with a piano accompanying it.

I don't know what the hell I'm writing anymore. Yessiree.

Sunday, October 25, 2009 12:49 AM

A friend:

I get that you're tired. I get that your day sucked. But I tried to think of various ways that would add a little cheer. So it did not help that you were so curt and even on the brink of being cruel. This is a pent up of frustrations after you blatantly told me that I would always be your back-up plan when you were feeling particularly in the mood for a few hours with me. Well now I'm telling you - stop it. I'm tired of it and this is certainly not the first time. It would help if you stopped wallowing in your lethargy and talk to me instead of giving one word answers as if talking to crap. Or if you didn't want to talk at all, telling me "Sorry, I don't really feel like talking, really tired." I'm sure that's within your abilities (no sarcasm intended).

Oh Sylvia Plath, no wonder you died alone.
(Thrusts head into oven)

Thursday, October 22, 2009 11:00 PM

No edification tonight:

Learnt a new word today. Bdellophobia. Isn't it simply wonderful? The glorious way it rolls of your tongue and the way you taste it on the tip of your tongue and melts in the centre as it disperses itself, dancing around your tongue, waltzing through your taste buds. Edwin and I have such fascinating discussions during recesstime. Today's was leeches. And stand-up comedy.

Me: Edwin, I think we can do stand-up comedy.
Huiying: YEAH! Everybody will love you!
Edwin: Talent time. (Which debuts tomorrow, FYI)

I love Edwin. Funniest guy who loves hanging out with girls and acting all bimbotic with me ever. He asked me how to pronounce 'edellophobia' and whether you pronounce both the 'b' and the 'd'.

I got my heart stopped today too. I just woke up after a two and a half period nap (where there were no teachers, I slept late) and was talking to people on my right and couldn't see shit on my left. And out of nowhere, "BANG!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Joe Yang slams my table, touches me on the arm, let's out a yell, scares the shit out of me and makes me jump like a meter in to the air. And twenty minutes later, my heart was still beating like a rabbit's.

So apparently, I won't get a cardiac arrest AFTER debates. I can have them during debate season too.

And then I'll die.

And Darren Lee, Joe Yang and Lionel will have to take over my place as third speaker.

(Lets out an extremely evil cackle)

Sunday, October 18, 2009 9:06 PM

I can tell it's gonna be a good day:



Christine's (Wendy Darling's) birthday was lovely. Didn't get to spend as much time as I wanted with her (sorry love), but I had to man the booth. Thank you very much for being the supportive friend you always are. You're the most beautiful (inside and out) friend I have.

Love,
Deborah (Alice)