It will be 3 more hours to 20 days.
Thursday, May 30, 2002
Tuesday, May 28, 2002
Friday, May 24, 2002
I think i have done enough ranting and raving for a while. Thanks to all my friends around me whom i know are concerned about me and i am sorry that i could not really talk about what is happening, primarily because nothing is resolved nor settled. I have not fully understood it myself nor could i really accept it yet but i guess i am calmer now than before. I realized also that while other people may have doubts and no confidence about the relationship but i don't have to be just because they are. It has been real and it meant something, at least for me and i think i have to keep believing in that if nothing else. Whatever doubts and questions would still have to be worked out, but there is a limit to what i can do about that. So instead of breaking down and panicking, which does not help in the least, i could try and hold on to what i have always believed in. I guess i can't expect others to have confidence in something if i myself do not believe in it. I did ever wonder if i am just being foolish and stubborn but i find no other ways in which i can act other than this. Even this, is something difficult at times especially when you are washed in waves of paranoia. I am still unwilling to face up to the possibility or perhaps an eventuality... but this is helping me cope for a while, at least for now. Some days i do wake up and wished from the bottom of my heart that this had not happened to me. I am beginning to accept for a start what had happened even if i have not understood nor accepted the reasons for it.
At this point, i am caught in limbo. Time is something quite difficult yet easy to give. Both of the same reason, i do not control time. I cannot bring myself to speculate what can happen in the future nor could i keep hoping that things are not as serious as i imagined for fear of deluding myself. Hence, all i can do, is to just hold on to the moment and what the relationship has meant or felt to me, and try not to speculate for him. Trying can be difficult too. I guess i am stepping on the fine line of what is managable for me right now. Step out of the line on either way and i risk either delusion (therefore losing consciousness) and blind panic and despire. I am basically breathing in a tight air space with vaccum on the either side of me. But then, having a tight pocket of air is better than having all the air sucked out around me like when this all started. So i guess i am making some improvement at least.
Tuesday, May 21, 2002
The Prince and The Gardener
Once a upon a time, in a kingdom far far away, there lived a prince who built a most lovely castle. Within his castle grounds, there was the most beautiful garden anyone has ever seen. It was filled with beautiful flowers, green lawns, pretty fountains and exotic plants. Everyone who has ever seen it would proclaimed it the loveliest garden of all the kingdom. The prince loved his garden very much and would spent his time cultivating his plants and flowers to put in it. And the prince was happy.
Just outside the castle walls, there lived a humble gardener who admired the prince's lovely garden for the longest time. The prince was kind and enjoyed a good friendship with the gardener. Often he would invite the gardener over his castle walls to listen and share advice on growing the loveliest flowers anyone would ever see. And the gardener was happy.
Then came a time when the prince felt that he would like to share his garden with someone, so that they would take good care of his garden as well as he would have while he had to be away to fight in a war for a year. He searched and he searched when one day, he found a craftsman from a neighbouring kingdom who promised that he would take good care of the prince's garden. And the prince was pleased, so he took his soldiers and rode away. The craftsman worked hard in the garden, spading, pruning the prince's favourite flowers. He toiled and he toiled, working day and night at first, because he wanted the prince to reward him for the work that he has done. But sadly, because he had never taken care of any garden before this, many plants wilted and the seeds he had planted in spring did not grow. The craftsman finally, in a fit of anger, destroyed the work he has been trying to accomplished and left the kingdom. When the prince returned and saw his garden destroyed, he shut himself in his tower for 7 days and 7 nights. During this time, the humble little gardener who had seen what the craftsman had done, tried whatever he could to salvage what's left in the garden. He brought in fertilizer for the soil and cleared the broken roots away, hoping that the prince would once more look at his garden and plant new seeds in it. However, the prince was too heartbroken and would not face the once fruitful but now barren soil. Hence, he did not noticed that though the soil was bare, it was still rich and dark.
Though the prince was sad and thought that he could never grow another flower in his garden again, in his heart, he had secret hopes and yearning to have his lovely garden back again. Yet his despair stopped him from attempting it. The humble gardener realized what the prince must be feeling and seek an audience with the prince, asking for a chance to work with the prince's garden. However, the prince was too sad and did not think that it was possible for anything to grow in his garden anymore. So he turned down his good friend, the humble gardener on his request. Some seasons passed, and it was spring again, when all of a sudden, news came to the prince that a foreign wizard had arrived in the kingdom, who possessed strange and mavellous powers to do wonderous things. The prince was intringued and invited the wizard into his castle. "What magic do you possessed?" he asked the wizard. And the wizard replied "I could make what was destroy and restore them to you, your highness but my service would come with a price." The prince was overjoyed and he took the wizard to his garden. "Make it as it is again and i would pay you a roomful of gold coins" requested the prince. And lo and behold, the wizard waved his magic wand, and everything was restored to the prince. And the prince was happy. He showed his restored garden to his old friend the humble gardener who had been tending to the garden secretly all this while. The humble garden said nothing but was glad that the prince was once more happy with his garden.
However, before summer came, other kingdoms had heard about this mavellous wizard and his strange powers. Each clamoured to recuit the service of the wizard. Finally, a king from the kingdom over the mountains agreed the pay the wizard two roomful of gold coins if the wizard were to enter his service. And the wizard left, taking with him his magic. As the prince's garden has always been sustained by the wizard's magic, the garden fell once again into barren grounds when the wizard was gone. "No more!" cried the prince, "No more would i live in hope that my garden will grow again!" and the prince stayed in his tower for 14 days and 14 nights, refusing to see or talk to anyone. And the humble gardener was sad. He looked at the tower every day hoping that the prince would look into his garden and see all that he was blinded from. That the land has heal, the soil was rich and the scars were long gone even before the wizard came and hid all behind his magic. But the prince was too sad to look and to listen.
The humble garden continue to work in the garden day after day, night after night. Till one day, the prince came out and saw that the soil were spaded and awaiting new seeds to be planted for the next season. Then he saw the humble gardener, who was so tired that he had fallen asleep under the moldy pavillon. Finally, the prince said to the humble gardener, "Do what you could if you want my friend. Though i know your efforts would be furtile, i could not bear to stop you from trying." With that, the prince walked back into his castle, leaving the humble gardener in his garden. The humble gardener was overjoyed. He felt sure that once he could get the plants to grow once more, the prince would surely be happy and once more, take joy in his lovely garden. And the humble gardener worked very hard, season after season, rain and shine, in the prince's garden, spading the soil and planting each seed by hand. It was not easy because the humble gardener had no magic, and he was just one person. Yet he perservered day after day, spading, planting, pruning the plants. And the plants did grow. Slowly at first, there were shoots, then seedlings and finally a tiny bloom from the first springtime flower. Four years passed and though the prince had walk passed the garden, he had not stepped into it as the pain was still great in his heart. One spring morning, the prince heard the song of a lark, a music he long thought he would never hear again ever since the first destruction of his garden. Almost against his will, he once more walked towards he garden and the song of the lark. Now, the garden was once again blooming, and though it was not as lovely as it once was, it was healthy and there were seedlings and buds everywhere. Though there was no fountain, no exotic plants, just humble flowers from the countryside that the humble gardener had picked and transplanted, the garden was nonetheless, growing again.
The humble gardener was eager to show the prince what had been done in the last four years and was glad that the prince finally walked out into his garden again. Yet, the expression on the prince's face froze his excitement. The prince then turned suddenly and walked back into his castle. The humble gardener was crushed and chased after the prince asking him what was wrong. The prince stopped and looked at the humble gardener who was nervously fingering his gardening cap. It seemed like a long time had passed, when finally the prince said to the humble gardener, "My dear friend, i know what you have done and good work it was too. But i am sorry, it can never be and never will be what i have lost.Nothing you could have done could make it up." With that, the prince left the humble gardener and his garden and never once looked back ever again.
The process of losing some one in a relationship is not an unique experience by itself.
Mine is not more painful
nor heart-wrenching
nor wasted
nor upsetting.
There is nothing special in what is happening.
I have seen it before and shared other's pain.
I have been the one saying everything is going to be ok.
The one picking up the phone at midnight.
The one comforting.
I have seen it and said all the words and
i had understood.
In fact, the process has been the same
for one, for all.
The difference is that now i am the participant,
not the spectator.
Everything changes and i found myself at a loss of what to do.
Is there a protocol i must follow?
"Words are useless in times like these."
I can't seem to hear anything.
"We are close and we share everything so i thought you ought to know...This may not be the end...I just needed to think...Its not you...Its my doubts about myself...Maybe i have never loved you but treated you as my best friend...one day i work up and realize...you are not the person i can picture spending my life with...i can't picture...i am not convinced...i care about... i don't want this to end...i am afraid...i just don't know...my friends said...he broke up...similarities...stark...3 1/2 years... 4... i enjoyed being with you...i don't know... it's my doubts...it's not you...it's never you... it's me... i never asked for a break up... that's not what i want...perhaps it is...i don't know... i just wanted you to know... a can of worms... i thought we could share everything... there is nothing you can do... you have done enough... i don't have the conviction you do... do you... i need... think... make or break... i am scared... has it been real... yes... no... i enjoyed being with you... my best friend... comfort... security... is that all... special... you are special..."
BUT YOU MAY HAVE NEVER LOVED ME!
I have not, could not listen.
I could not have, have not understood.
Is this pain?
When breaking up isn't an end in itself, but a process.
It doesn't have to be explicitly stated,
or as easy as "let's break up" anymore.
It started the very nanosecond when one say,
"I could not convincingly say that i love you"
"I do not know how i feel about you"
There doesn't have to be any reasons to justify a start in the process.
It is a beginning of an end that doesn't want to appear as so.
"you are special" becomes entangled in a mesh of cold-cut wires,
that pricks you when you pick it up.
It is pretending to carry on, holding up a semblence of
a shadow of what is has been, of what it was.
It has become a skin deflating while you are still inside it,
trying desperately to keep it held up in its original form,
trying desperately not to let it collapse on you.
"Did you just step on a nail my dear?"
You will know that breaking up is a process when...
when nothing was said over fries at Macdonald
when he wouldn't, daren't maintain eye-contact
when he used to walk beside but now one and a half step infront
when he held you hand and yet the once familiar touch felt foreign
when pressure changed with each contact
when your hand brushed against each other and he flinched for a second
before recovering just as quickly to hold it again.
It is knowing that he still cares and yet perhap he doesn't.
It is knowing that he loved you and yet may have never loved you.
It is sharing a can of worms with you, watching you eat it one by one because that's the way it has to be
It is a request for breathing space and yet taking away every available oxygen around you,
making it hard for you to breath.
It is asking for time and yet you know that it is just used to allow the pain to ebb away,
to allow a slow least painless way to wilt away.
Except that it is not painless.
It's never painless i'm afraid.
Breaking up is a process.
And now, i am not ready to begin the process of acceptance.
Saturday, May 18, 2002
I realized that perhaps i have grown complacent: in my family life, in my career, in my friendships and in my relationship. While i am never one to believe in staying stagnant in one single place for long, and knows fully the furtility of wanting things to stay the way they are, i am nonetheless overwhelmed by changes at different points in my life. I realized the need for change but some changes are beyond my comprehension. What is worse, is that i have failed to recognized the signs of changes. I am complacent, hence i am unprepared. Its my fault for not dealing better when changes happened. To let myself be swept by the waves into the sea. When you go sailing, the onus is on you to bring the life jacket, be watchful for the weather, the currents, the sea. If being complacent, you have neglected to do all that, do not blame the sea for being rough and capsizing your boat, leaving you to drown. The sea has never promised to be gentle with anyone.
Friday, May 17, 2002
Thursday, May 16, 2002
Wednesday, May 15, 2002
Sometimes you have to live a life which you do not understand.
It is possible to just exist without meaning.
When one meaning cease to be meaningful, it is always possible to create another.
Or is it?
What is a meaningful existence?
And meaningful to whom?
Ultimately, it has to mean something to oneself.
The crux is an egotistical one.
You have to seek meaning for yourself.
Sometimes it is through others and this invariably create meaning for others.
But at the base of all that, it is the self which must perceive what that can mean to oneself.
Serving others is only meaningful if it serves to meet some intrinsic need within oneself.
We form relationships with others, hoping to create meaning by which we live.
We may even form relationship with inanimate objects to achieve a similar outcome.
Hence, many are slavishly forming new relationship with work, money, housing, and transport vehicles.
We can derive meaning from almost anything just so to make our own lives meaningful.
Is my existence a meaningful one?
By what do i derive my meaning from?
Tuesday, May 14, 2002
On my missing years:
I am not really big on photographs though i "look" big in them. There are people who will faithfully keep their photos in big fancy albums, categorized into times and events. And there are others who would keep a few chosen momentos of loved ones (pets or otherwise) around them, on their work desk, in their wallets, or their bedside table. I guess i am just not one of them. Perhaps i am not doing justice to the countless of travel photos collecting dust in my drawer, kept stacked in plastic/paper bags but i really do not know what else i am suppose to do with them, nor do i feel motivated enough to do anything. When "forced" to by others (e.g. family, SO), i can be compulsively neat and organized to insist that every picture is in their chronological order, going by each numbered albums (nothing fancyful, just the regular ones given by the shops). Otherwise, they would forever remain in the exact bag that they came in.
When i was younger, my parents kept all our photos of birthdays, holidays, weddings, gatherings in thick double flip-side albums. I always enjoyed looking through them from time to time as they gave me a window into a world/time/place which i increasingly have difficulties remembering. However, there is a period of time when my photographic "history" lasped into, what i would called, the "middle ages - i.e. dark ages". There seem to be little concrete evidence of that period of time in my short life. Almost from the age of 12 till my early 20s, there are few and little photos in between to represent my existence as a teenager. Other than some compulsory class photos here and there, there seemed to be none other evidence that i was ever one.
Recently I have been to the SO's place and looked through his old photo albums and realized that he was missing for a couple of years as well. It was as if we went into hiding for a while before emerging all fully grown into adults in travel photos. Perhaps the phenomenon is not universal but i could speculate on where did my missing years went or failed to be captured onto celluloid.
1) It is not coincidental that during my adolescent years, my family went into a sort of financial recluse as well. Hence, birthdays, holidays, outings, gatherings were practically non-existent for a long while. No one would consider spending that kind of money on such events, much less taking photographs to commemorate them. If we could, all i would have seen was a geeky bespectacled girl running around the estate in t-shirt and shorts because there was no one else to keep her studying at home. Hmm, i would really like to have one of those photos actually.
2) Another possibility could be that, personally, i am never fond of taking photos of myself. Generally, i needed to be coax into one (especially if i am the sole occupant of the photo). This could be due to the growing awareness of oneself and own's self-image during adolescence. It was at that moment when you assumed the stance that "hey, i look pretty awful with all those pimples etc etc" and put you off from wanting any lasting evidence of that fact on photographs. I was probably too self-conscious of my braces, pimples, jutting lower jaw (before "corrective" surgery), boyish hair cut and thick glasses. You can be blinded to how you look from in your daily life because you don't often get to "see" yourself (except in the mirrors) but photos in those days (before the make-over phenomenon) always conspire to show you off in the worst light possible. So, another reason for my unaccounted for "missing years".
3) It is also entirely possible that it could be due to the fact that most of us (well, maybe just me) may not have much access to a camera in those days. How often, in times of yore, do our parents actually trust us (rash, careless teenagers), with an fairly expensive photographic equipment? Not to touch it, much less fool around with it. Since we do not have ready access to one (except maybe during an odd birthdays here and there), we often had to depend on our parents to "do the deed" of taking our pictures of us. Now, frankly speaking, would most parents (alright, maybe just mine), actually want to or feel motivated enough to take pictures of their once-cute-cuddly-adorable-toddlers-NOW-gawky-pimply-moody teenagers? That same moody teenager would probably kick a huge fuss if they attempted to, probably due to reason no. 2 given above.
Like i said, these are only speculations. No more than hypothesis which could explain my missing years. It is by no means comprehensive nor universal but still if anyone suffer from the same phenomenon, do let me know. Perhaps there is a support group for people like us out there. In the mean time, i will just continue to dwell here and decide on how i should deal with my "non-missing years" that are slowly disintergrating in my drawer.
Monday, May 13, 2002
Sunday, May 12, 2002
The further adventures of Ruski:
He never fail to give me big fright when i least expected it.
Of all the weird places i have found him, the roof, on the ceiling board...
this time i found him on the window ledge.
What so unusual about that?
Well i found him on the 2nd floor window ledge when my room is on the 3rd floor.
There is no way getting to the 2nd floor unless its through the door (which is closed) or unless you can climb down walls like spider-man.
So has my cat suddenly turned spider-like equipped with spider sense?
I think not.
It most probably fell from on ledge to the other.
How and Why i refused to speculate.
Imagine my surprise when i heard him meowing (but i couldn't see him at first) and then stuck my head out of the window to see him meowing for his dear life on the narrow ledge below my room.
When i picked him up from the ledge downstairs, i must say he never looked or felt so nervous.
His body was shaking (and still is) and panting like i never seen before.
But other than that, there is no other visible sign of damage.
Now he absolutely refused to go sit on the window ledge to look at the crows (something he had always enjoyed before).
Only cats can get into such scraps and managed to land on their four paws.
Someday i will probably die of a heart attack first.
I am flabbergasted at the implications of what you have said.
What does it all mean?
Why does it seem all so familiar again?
Did we travelled so far to find ourselves jogging on the spot?
Why can't people call a spade, a spade?
If it isn't the real thing, then it isn't.
What can one do?
No one is holding a gun to another one's head.
Stop wishy-washying around.
You are wasting your own time.
You waste my time.
Watched a friend's dance performance last night.
The title of the performance is called Melatonin.
I can't say that i understood but i enjoyed the forms and images.
I remarked that the friend that composed and remixed the music should be a great rave DJ
(even though he is a visiting tutor teaching music in a london university).
Friday, May 10, 2002
Watched No man's land the other day.
I think the ending scene of a man lying in a trench, in the middle of the fronts of two armies, on top of a landmine which cannot be defused while waiting for the night to fall and bombing to start, succintly denotes the whole serb-bosnian conflict eloquently without words.
Thursday, May 9, 2002
Tuesday, May 7, 2002
 | You are Hobbes! You're a bit too mellow to be an incarnation of Calvin, but you're still his best pal. You don't mind having fun, though, and enjoy playing tricks on your friends when they least expect it. Take the What Calvin are You? Quiz by contessina_2000@yahoo.com! |
I am actually a Civilian Calvin but i cheated cos i liked hobbes better and would prefer to have his picture here. :D
Monday, May 6, 2002
Its May.
My May day was spent watching SO finishing his video.
Caught Animal Farm after that and it was pretty entertaining.
Perhaps i was tired, so i did not enjoyed it as much as i would have liked to.
May is filled with turbulent rains and thunders and lightnings.
I noticed a patch on my brother's room ceiling.
Suspected a leak in the roof.
Remembered the little incident involving a night roaming cat few months ago.
A weekend in May that totally drained me out.
Spent a record time of 9 hours mudding overnight.
Dinner at Sento, ice cream at Swenson, pool at Monster cue and Spider-man.
Shouldn't all weekends be so?
Monday, April 29, 2002
"Since it is inherent for humans to crave variety, the concept of faithfulness is in actuality going against human nature."
Imagine a world without social constraints, where there is no moral obligations to remain faithful to one and monogamy is abolished. Does that mean that humans would not keep to one perpetual partner for life? It is absolute individualism where everyone is selfish to satisfy one's needs first without giving due considerations or having no obligations to another. Would love exist in the form we have perceived it today then? How many people actually stay together or remain so-called "faithful" due to moral obligations or social constraints?
The point is probably moot since no world or culture as we know it can fully exist without some sort of social constraints upon the individual exercised by a larger collective.
Sunday, April 28, 2002
Last night:
The best way i can describe how i felt is that i was Peeved.
Not pissed.
Not miffed.
But peeved.
Somedays i have had enough of all you people who
1) takes me for granted
2) seems to take i will respond to all your beck and call at you people's convenience
3) don't think twice to push me around whenever it strikes you people
I am not a _filler_ for you people's space time alright?
I would have thought that i have tried enough to be a good friend, girlfriend, daughter etc to those that i know, to deserve none of the above.
But then that was yesterday.
Somehow things will get blown over.
It is probably not right but i will be less of a friend etc etc if i let it bug me for too long.
So here we go again...
Thursday, April 25, 2002
Someone gave me a scare when i was driving home today.
I was just about turning off the ECP at the Marine Parade exit this evening when i noticed that there was this ford about 4 cars length behind me which was moving rather erractically. The driver was making little "jerks" as he was driving. The car swerved shapely to the side and back a couple of times. I remember thinking that perhaps the driver is on the phone or something. Just then, i was slowing down around the bend of the expressway exit when i noticed that ford right behind me. It was so close i could see the driver behind clearly on my rear view mirror. What was harrowing was that traffic was really busy at that time, and i was just slowing down. I was so afraid that the ford will just smack bang right into my car that i did not even dare to slow down anymore. The car was _that_ close behind. I even changed lanes thinking that perhaps the driver is in a hurry but he still followed very closely behind me. It worse worse than tail-gating. I felt like i was being chased. The thing is, he did not flash his headlights at me (perhaps i was in his way?) or honked. He just kept behind me very very closely. I could not have braked without him banging into me. And he did not show any sign that he was slowly down either, but was kinda edging the car nearer and nearer.
Finally i had to stop at the traffic light and he stopped behind (very closely still) and i had a good look at the driver behind from my rear view mirror. And it was really frightening. He was a rather thin bald man, at first i thought it was a rather old man, but i think it is mainly because of his glasses (so i cant see his eyes) and the dark eyebags. And he looked sort of "crazed", which reminded me of norman bates from psycho, but scarier. I don't know how to describe it but he did not look angry-like or neither did he keep a straight face. I have seen expressions like that before and it was usually on psychotic patients or horror movies. And eerily, he began to make strange gestures in his car and for a while he looked like he was shouting to the empty space beside him and gesticulating wildly. Then he started to pretend to be holding a rifle and started "aiming" and "shooting" at things around him. I think he must have saw me glancing at the rear view mirror (i did not dare to turn around to look) and suddenly i realized he was focusing intently at my car and was "shooting" at me. He had a almost manic and diabolique expression on his face. It was horrifying even when recalled it.
When he noticed me, he started gesturing even more frantically, making obscene signs with his middle finger, flapping his hands and making sucking motions with his mouth onto his finger. He kept doing that, and keeping his car closely behind at two traffic lights (both red so we had to stop). I have met jerks on the road before like road bullies that flashes their lights at you to make you give way and drivers who make exsperated signs at you as their drove pass but this is something different. He did not look frustrated or arrogant or angry. He just looked menacing and mad. I mean insane. If he were to bang into me, my first instinct would be to lock my car door. I really felt like this was a psychotic patient more than a person who wanted to harrass others for the fun of it. He was already behaving like so even before he noticed me. If i was able to get a sight of his car plate number i would have called the police. Not for harrassing me but the potential danger he could be. He honestly looked like a psychotic person driving a car recklessly. I was so glad that just as suddenly as he was hounding me, he turned rather widely (and dangerously) into a petrol station and disappeared.
I was still shaking a little when i reached home. I am not one to get scared easily but i felt real danger this evening. It was eerie even. I don't think i can forget the face and that expression. Perhaps LTA should screen drivers periodically with psych assessment so that mentally unstable people would not be driving on the road. I know i am stretching it abit but could you imagined if that driver just go berserke and crash into a school or something during peak hours?
I felt like i was in some horror movie.
Wednesday, April 24, 2002
Venus Boys tonight:
What can i say?
Male
Female
Other
I can't say i fully understand the rational which made woman wants to be man.
If it is obtain respect as what some of the interviewees said, i feel that i can well obtain respect as a female even if it IS a more uphill struggle.
If it is to break through conventional thinking of gender, to become androgynous, i don't feel that this is accomplished by piling on the male elements.
I have always thought to be truly "other", it means an elimination of both male or female elements.
What the end of product is, is a myriad of confusion.
Both for me, and i suspect, for some of the other people involved in the documentary.
However, that said, that is only my personal feelings.
Actually i particularly admired one of the characters in the docu, an african american woman who looks good both as a man and a woman, and uses both elements to her advantage.
That is empowerment i feel and is truly liberating.
I am glad i have never questioned my own sexuality or gender, and am happy the way i am.
I say this not to put down others who may have questioned about their gender, but rather relieved for myself, as i can imagine how hard it is to strive to break out of the conventional modes in our society today.
HK Animation last night:
Definitely less polished than the international annecy animations.
But there were a few gems out of the "student-film"-like animations.
I particularly enjoyed
1) "Ugly museum" - shows that the quest for beauty is not without its perils (style of the animation reminded me of SO's "seed", a sense of deja vu)
2) A dull's life - the relentless quest of a urinal which seek to improve its circumstances... in the female toilet.
3) The birth and death of an artist - oppression for having dreams beyond what is prescribed.
Monday, April 22, 2002
Hotel at night:
3 words: Sex, Cannabalism and Revenge
One conclusion: weird.
This is way way way surreal than leaving las vegas (same director Mike Figgis).
An interesting plot presented in not one but 2/3/4 frames at times.
The editing was great though could at times be confusing for the audience.
But honestly that is part of the fun and charm of this weird feature film.
What i originally thought was an infra-red camera (but later SO corrected me. it is a sony DV inbuilt thingy that can shot in very low light settings), gave a really creepy green glow to the characters (everything black turns out white, including the eyeballs) in specific situations that highlighted the tension and mystery of the story.
The "dogma" movie within the movie (i.e. the duchess of mulfi) was already interesting on its own (i would have love to watch it), though david schwimmer will always look and behave like "ross" from "friends".
The sex bits were titillating and well shot. I imagined the few old men in the cinema got their 8bux worth.
On the whole, it was nicely and interestingly put together.
I bet everyone who is interested in making films would want to go out and get themselves a DVcam after this.
Overall, an entertaining bizzare piece of surrealistic movie.
I definitely enjoyed this cannabalistic buffet more than "seafood".
Annecy animation in the morning:
An entertaining collection of international animations from canada, mexico, uk, italy and french (i think 2/3 are in french).
Some of the bits i liked
1) a man who woke up as a woman and lived with it for 10 years before turning back to a man on her/his wedding (to a man), in "geraldine"
2) an artful "father and daughter" that was very poignant and had a great lyrical soundtrack
3) pokemon-manga inspired "AP2001". Think pokemom + fleas + gundam rolled up into a poodle furball. Hilarious.
4) "Comics trip" that put computer animated feature like jimmy neutron to shame for its wonderful editing and use of "space"
5) An oddly depressing "The boy who saw the iceberg" which had split frames deplicting reality and fantasy.
6) A "cool nestea" commercial (the only commercial in the collection) that literally tickled the bones.
Sunday, April 21, 2002
It is amazing what low expectations can do to the enjoyment value of a film.
Scorpian king was hilarious.
I giggled myself silly from beginning to end.
It is good to watch something not too serious once in a while.
I must admit i am one of those that will indulge in stephen chow periodically too.
(Lets not be too dogmatic about certain things shall we?)
And it doesn't hurt to have like-minded friends who are not too "high-browed" to enjoy a silly movie,
followed by a lighthearted supper at Lao Pa Sat together.
Now, that's what i call a nice saturday night.
Saturday, April 20, 2002
Met a new friend today.
Quite interesting but he is trifle bit opinionated (not necessary a bad thing) but somehow, it all lacks substance somehow (his opinions i mean).
For example, how can you say something is bad when you have never seen it or even compare with something else?
It is like saying apples are better than oranges when you have never tasted an orange in your whole life.
Sure, everyone will always have opinions which are subjective but if you intend to pass them off as critical analysis for debate, you have well be more informed about the topic right?
Frankly, i think for someone who proclaims to have an interest in film, he seems to be too narrow focused and unexposed to alot of things to offer any sort of critical analysis.
Hmm...
Thursday, April 18, 2002
I wonder if the older you are, the more tolerant you should be.
I think i am giving out more chances than i would have when i am younger when i hardly look back at the decisions i made and stand by whatever i said.
No time for regrets or should i say, no worries about regrets because i am young and free.
So do older people let their standards dip as they grow older because... well.. because they are no longer young and no longer have as many chances as before?
I find myself worrying that i may regret any rash decisions i make and hence, become less decisive and perhaps, more "tolerant" of things i would never have been.
I think that is what it is, i am worried about having regrets.
I am not too sure if that is a good thing at all.
Wednesday, April 17, 2002
Seafood tonight.
The start was rather promising but tapered towards 3/4 of the show. The dark humour was interesting, especially coming from a China film-maker, but the ending seems disjointed from the built-up infront and almost like a separate story. At first i thought it might be delibrate, knowing how "chim" some artist like to be. But when questioned, i feel the filmmaker was a trifle bit unsure. (either that or he did not understand the nature of the question). Being a first time filmmaker (but has written several novels), i feel the story was not "tight" enough and metaphor of the "seafood" is too vague (and practically non-existent towards the end), he might have better developed his ideas in his novels than a 2 hour film.
Tuesday, April 16, 2002
Came home just now and found the porceline bell in the shape of a woman lying broken on the floor, the culprit meowing piteously at a corner when i opened the door. It was a gift from the SO which he brought back from Spain a couple of years ago and it is very dear to me. The SO always brings back a little something for me whenever he travels and it is dearer now because he seldom have to chance to travel these days. I guess my feelings got the better of me and i gave ruski a sound smacking which sent him scurrying under the couch before i remembered that he is just a cat. I am still very angry and upset however, more of myself now, for not putting it on a higher shelf. Even though it was on the second shelf, i should have known that ruski can jump onto the first shelf and try to paw anything on the second. There is an awful sinking feeling in my stomach. Now ruski is trying to pacify me in someways by jumping on my lap (which he has a habit of doing so whenever i am angry with him) but i am still too upset and dropped him back on the bed.
Think i will go buy some silicon glue to try fix it back together again.
Monday, April 15, 2002
Snow asked me what does Aurorin mean. That came as a surprise since its been a long time since anyone last asked me that.
Instead of going into the whole "mythological-influenced" story, it will suffice to say that this name is original (as in i thought it up myself) and i love it so much that i will probably name my daughter aurorin (or aury for short).
Besides, i happen to think it sounds nice. :D
Mutant Aliens last night.
Pretty hilarious.
Watched his other shorts before and though this is a trifle bit too long, i thought it was pretty enjoyable on the whole.
I have forgotten how "pornographic" Bill Plympton can be. But one shouldnt take such things seriously. I doubt anyone's sensibilities have been offended. Mine certainly wasn't. I was too busy laughing i think.
Met with gpa and alan before the show. Thanks to dave for the dvd again. Also saw some familiar faces, especial from NJ which SO neglected to introduced. *smirks*
Another typical Alice-absentmindedness at play. Ordered a drink+popcorn combo and when it came, realized that i have ran out of cash. Had to sheepishly asked the cashier to hang on to the stuff while i rush to the ATM to draw out some money. Vaguely remembered that cash is in the OTHER wallet, which is of course, in the OTHER bag. Don't ask me why do i have so many bags and wallets, i just do.
You know how sometimes you see someone and they look strangely familiar but you just cant place them? Saw one of those at the atm, strangely enough, the feeling was mutual. You know it when the feeling is mutual. There is the universal look of "where have i seen you before". I was about to ignore it when he asked if i was from NTU. Which i wasn't. We both rattled off a few possibilities.
"irc?" - he looked blank
"friend of jason lim?" - i looked blank
"i am from biathalon." - Well, i was at a charity triathalon once. But no, not biathalons.
"hmmmm...."
In the end we both gave up and attributed it to the probability that we must have met at one too many film fest or similar events. When i was on my way back to pay the ransom for the popcorn hostages, i realized that i should have just asked him for his name. Somehow my instincts told me that i probably knew him from further back, i just can't remember where. I have a sneaky feeling it is back in JC or Sec school even. Oh well. Will remind myself to get that chap's name next time. SO think it is probably from one of those art events we frequent since Jason Lim is one of the artist he knows.
Sunday, April 14, 2002
Little Otik this morning.
Much like "Alice" in his treatment, which blended surrealism, fairy tales and transcribing it into the modern mundane world. But this is way too commercialized, made for the general public, hence losing much of the surrealism that is so typically svankmajer in his other earlier works. Still, an interesting animation and one of his longest one to date (125mins).
Yesterday watched Japanese Devils, a documentary that interviewed 14 japanese army veterans who confessed to the atrocities they committed during WWII. The events they talked about was put in chronological order, treatment was quite matter-of-factly. It was chilling sitting there and listening to a bunch of old men describing in vivid details what they had done. Personally, it was difficult to be totally non-judgemental after hearing from them. Everyone had a reason on why they did what they did. Under orders, to fit in, peer pressure and personal beliefs that the emperor is god. As they were talking, it was quite apparent to me that there was always this moment in time when they hesitated (no matter how shortly) before crossing the line from being a human to something so cruel yet only a human is capable of. Each time, when the interview reached this moment, i held my breath wishing that perhaps this old man had not crossed the line, perhaps he turned an eye over the old people, the children, the woman he just raped instead of killing them and burning them down. But then, this is war and it is real. This is not a movie. It is not easy to view it objectively and say that these 14 interviewees are victims of war as well. Not when everyone had a chance to look the other way when their superiors or peers are not around and yet did not, and committed all manner of cruelty you can think of.
I don't think the documentary is to make to make victims out of them. It was a good documentary that look at the facts objectively instead of denying it, especially since it was made by the japanese. I guess it is only my own fault that i cannot get beyond my own subjective and personal feelings about it.
Wednesday, April 10, 2002
My loot for today from borders:
1) Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll - a hard cover book with original illustrations by John Tenniel
2) The Illustrated Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales - illustrated by Arthur Rackham, an early 20th century illustrator who produced some wonderful black and white drawings/engravings
3) The Prehistory of The Far Side - A 10th Anniversary Exhibit by Gary Larson, which include artist's footnotes and scribblings
4) The Golden Age of Children's Book Illustration - filled with marvallous plates and black/white drawings of famous children book illustrators from the 1860s to 1930s and their biographies.
I am truly happy. I have always wanted Alice in Wonderland, partly for the story but mainly for the illustrations. And the book of children's book illustration is a real great find. Brothers Grimm because of the familiar stories and more so for those i have not read before (almost hard to imagine i could have not known some of their stories being such a prolific fairy tales reader when i was young), as well as the wonderful illustrations. As for the Far Side, i have always been tickled by Gary Larson's sense of humour. The process by which he derives his inspiration (ie his footnotes and scribblings/sketches) were an added bonus.
Yap, it was a good evening.
Tuesday, April 9, 2002
Monday, April 8, 2002
Sunday, April 7, 2002
Monday, April 1, 2002
Work is getting more hectic by the minute.
Case conference looming around the corner and all that training still going on as well.
At times i almost panicked.
Whatmore, we have to worry about PES(t) too.
It is this silly bureaucratic thing which requires us to calculate the hours and measure the success rate of our student.
For example, input = hours and output = % of goals
And output have to be above 50% to be consider success.
I can fully understand the rational.
There is a need for VWOs to be accountable after all we do depend on charity.
That is, your money, my money... everyone's money. The goodness of singaporeans.
And it would nice to keep track of how many kids benefit from our services.
But really, i would find it less of a drag doing these calculations if the people of formulated it actually think it through about how applicable it is to us on the whole.
For example, it is IMPOSSIBLE to put every thing down in to measurable quantifiable statistics.
And more often than not, kids with special needs take a long while to achieve any semblence of success.
Does that mean we should give up on them? That VWOs dont need the money to run the program if we are not churning out enough "successes"?
I really pity the teachers as they are the one who have to compile the data for the therapists at the end of the day. On top of all the work they already have to do.
Lowly paid and stressful job and now more adminstration.
No wonder the turnover rate for teachers are so high.
I wish those people who actually formulate policies that ultimately will have a huge impact on those people who does the ground work, will come to and spend a week with us AT LEAST.
Before coming up with some more of these "admin" forms to fill and actually come up with something applicable and useful for once.
You know what babes?
The only solution seems to be that next time i go on holiday, you should come along!
Hey, then since you are going to Spain, you should bring me!
Pack me into your luggage and smuggle me!
*hugz*
I am flattered that you people think of me as your good friend.
It makes me feel like my life is worth something
cos' i mean something to some of you.
If i were to die tomorrow, at least i know who will miss me. :)
Anyway babes, always feel free to call.
No matter where, when, i will try my darnest to be there.
That goes the same for you snowie dear.
This i can promise you gals.
Sunday, March 31, 2002
From one cat lover to the another.
Snow dear, i share your pain and your loss for mimi.
I know how much you loved her.
I cannot imagine if the same thing were to happen to Ruski.
And i only had him for a year while mimi had been with you for so long.
I still remember her whenever i visit last time, back in Uni.
She was beautiful and such a character.
She picks her owner and she made the right choice.
I couldnt think of anyone else who could have given her such a caring home for the past 8 years.
I am sorry that other people could not have been kinder, more humane.
It was a needless loss.
*hugz* I am sorry i couldnt be here for you...
Please cheer up dear...
Was at Tioman for the last 3 days.
Went with quite low expectations since i wanted to go to bintan originally.
Beside, the resort didn't look that impressive in the first place.
It turned out to be really good.
We had our own private little condo like place with 2 bedrooms, a living room, some kitchenette, bathroom, and balcony facing the sea.
Though a little far from the rest of the spawling resort, there was a pretty efficient shuttle service to the main resort.
Snorkelling was great. Better than rawa last year as there were more selections of places to snorkel.
From the shallow reefs to deep underwater outcrop of rocks encrusted with corals and the many different variety of marine life.
Waters alternate between azure blue and emerald green.
Its crystal clear. I could see almost 20feet down without problems.
Quite alot of varied entertainment at the resort too.
KTV, night fishing, pool, disco, lounging at the beach bar, walking down the beach looking at a night sky full of stars.
The only problem is the long journey to and fro. Simply too exhausting.
2 1/2 hours coach to Mersing, 3 hours ferry to Tioman.
Next time i am going to take the direct ferry.
Wednesday, March 27, 2002
Watched The Time Machine today.
Was a major disappointment of a book adaptation.
I think i rather watch I not Stupid again.
Guy Pearce was not believable as prof alexander. Perhaps it was a miscasting.
Casting of the film was bad.
Jeremy Irons was a hoot being in the film for a mere 15minutes.
H.G Wells would roll in his grave.
On a more positive note,
the machine does look more or less like how i imagined it to be.
All the right materials and style for the era, except maybe for the perspex like material for the shield-like device. Or was it glass?
I must have a terrible memory.
I frequently forget things that i have in my hand.
And i almost never can remember if i have locked my car doors.
8 out of 10 times it would have been locked, but i would still not be sure.
Someone has hypothesized that it could be due to the fact that i don't remember things that are of no value to me.
However, my theory is i have a terrible short term memory.
I can remember things happening way back in the past.
Even down to the smallest details.
Trivia answers to obscure questions.
The telephone number of my house in malaysia where i lived when i was 6.
Perhaps i am just careless.
But would a careless person be so aware of being forgetful
that she will ask herself if the car door was lock barely 10 step away from the car?
Friends are getting used to me running back for the car each time.
Thing is, while mental pictures pop up readily in my head from my long term store in the brain,
i just cannot picture what had happened 10 seconds before for SOME things.
No matter how hard i try, the best i could do is constantly remind myself to check if i was holding my wallet/phone/pouch or to check if the door is locked, 10 seconds after.
Monday, March 25, 2002
There is a certain kick of looking for yourself in a haystack.
I went to yahoo.com and did a search for aurorin.
Wow. There is me, in various form.
And how surprising it was to find some of the things i was associated with right there, where i had forgotten it.
For example...
I guess i was young once too. So young that it is almost embarrasing now to look back at it.
Well... Almost. :)
Silly me. I forgot my wallet (aka card holder) today and only realized it just when i was about to pay for sushi.
For all that knows me, my card holder is where i slash my cash and i have a sort of miscellanous pouch for all other purposes (e.g. coins, keys, clips, fone etc). The pouch is always in my carrier bag but for some reason today, i neglected to bring out my all important card holder with all my cash and atm card, visa etc. Luckily for me, yesterday a couple of friends returned me some money for some movie tickets which i dumped into the pouch for convenience and this morning the school clerk gave me back around 20bux of petty cash for some stuff i bought for school. So when i bought the movie ticket and the book ($5), i took from the pouch since it had these spare change. When i finished my sushi dinner, and was digging through my bag for my card holder for my atm card, i realized all the money i had on me is all in the pouch. Thankfully, after the movie tix and book i still managed to have around 20 odd dollars. I was frantically praying that it would be enough for dinner as i hoped i did not have to call any friend to bail me out of an embarrasing situation (either that i would have to wash plates) just 10 minutes before my movie. Thanking my lucky stars, what i had was just about enough for the dinner (with 2 bux left over for the parking tix later).
I was thanking my lucky stars (all 7 of them) when i was stepping into the theater when i suddenly remembered: Emergency Cash. As a policy, i have always "hidden" some money away in some corner of the bag for emergency. And lo and behold, there was a 50 dollar note tuck safely in a little pocket in my bag. Man, that really reaffirms my habit of emergency cash. Certainly horrible to be stranded outside with no money and had to call for help. Now, if only i can remember i had some cash slashed away when i have an emergency.
