bought myself a mosh pit ticket to muse next year! tres exciting! probably the only downside is tagging along with couples galore but oh well. i can get high on muse myself!
sadly my other half wont be there in time to mosh with me, sigh. im looking forward more and more to carl coming down to singapore, i think it’ll be pretty fabulous 
from the moment you are born, the moment you blinked and yawned in your mother’s arms, you have already consented to an education. we learn to walk, to talk, to behave ‘properly’ and then to gain tangible knowledge of the world. and often we think that’s the crux of our education but it is so much more than that, it is learning to socialise and grow up, to be at least up to par.
and yet it so confusing because every society is so full of hierarchy. everybody has different expectations and sometimes it just seems easier to fulfill the ones closer to our own kind. i wonder who’s standards i have met or whether i have even met any, despite the tens of thousands of dollars that have been squeezed from blood to help me get an education.
it was such a relief yesterday, when the last exam of my ‘compulsory’ school life was finally over. sometimes it is nice to close a book even when you don’t actually know the ending for sure, but you have this hope that everything is going to work out just fine.
as i was telling tim neo, it’s a miracle in itself that i got up for church, so don’t complain.
i’ve probably never had such a smooth journey anywhere, at least for a long time now. the minutes ticked by a little slower, my walk was relaxed despite having only an hour’s sleep, and the tram showed up just when i arrived at the stop. i had my ’stay awake’ kit accumulated over the week unwittingly, my table littered with various assortments of things i would usually bring to church. I dumped into my bag sour cream pringles for breakfast, warheads and tic tacs in case i needed the sweet and sour punch, water bottle, a notebook and pen and my rhinestone-studded bible. haha.
reach community church was small. it was different from the massive scale of FCBC, everybody was a little more off-key, the worship team was straining their vocals a little bit too much. in FCBC everything had to be top-notch, perfect. and that’s why we forget that in the first place, if one is perfect one doesn’t need God.
somehow i think that whatever has happened through the week was cumulative, finally amounting to the tears of desperation i thought i will never let out again. as i felt overwhelmed in God’s presence, for once, feeling the surest He was there and listening, i told Him, i hate that person. i want to kill him. i can never forgive him. God no, i cannot have faith and then have You bastard us again when we are not looking. and You always know when we are not, You have the greatest advantage.
it’s not the same but somehow my thoughts go back to the story of Abraham, whom God has tested by asking him to sacrifice his son, Issac. Just as Abraham is about the stab his own flesh blood, God tells him to stop and says, now you have proven your faith and how much you love Me, like a psycho possessive Angelina Jolie. the NIV bible says, “now i know that you fear God”. tand He keeps pushing it, just to see how far you’ll go. while some people hang on, others snap and are possibly filtered from heaven. then what?
i know that i’m not the most praiseworthy person, and i have made a shitload of the worse decisions. but before you shove us into the pits it’ll just feel a lot more reassuring if You’ll at least show us a rope, instead of me hoping and praying that whatever has happened is already the worse that can happen. dear God, don’t forget that you’re Jesus too.
1. when one is victimised.
2. when it is by accident.
3. (most importantly) when it forces marriage upon two people i.e. by accident.
4. when one is dying.
not that i’m complaining about popular asian dramas putting a stopper on acceptable morality, but it’s just a formula that i have observed, as they get a bit more creative in trying to input sex scenes while escaping the accusations of immorality. of course im pretty sure it applies to other cultures as well, but the hollywood flick tends to just slam sex in your face. quite fascinating!
cuz you know in your heart babe, our love will never end
… it’s only a matter of time.
i really want to believe this and i think i can, and i hope he can, too. 2 months and 5 days more. till then anyway, he’s basically been my hands and feet and putting up with my tantrums, as i went through a a week and 4 days of involuntary hibernation after injuring my ankle for the upteenth time, only it was a bit worse and i’ve been on crutches for about a week now. can’t say that i’m the most careful person. but most certainly i went through quite a harrowing experience at the royal melbourne hospital, where for the first time, when i have money to wave around, i couldn’t get treatment.
admittingly i went to the emergency ward, and yes i was not bleeding or anything. also, my foot was rather numb that night and i couldn’t seem to pinpoint where exactly my pain was, but i had no ankle reflexes and i obviously had trouble walking when i had to DRAG my foot to the hospital. i certainly did not expect to be turned away with a “well you’ll have to wait allll night” when it wasn’t half as crowded as NUH. or to be thankfully bandaged, but then left to go without a crutch, so i was supposed to save my own life hopping on one foot.
i don’t blame the nurse honestly, but its a deep flaw in australia’s heathcare system, being so privatised like any other job when in fact, health care is a RIGHT for all human beings. doctors simply have it worse than others because lives depend on them, and what remains of the staff at emergency are disgruntled, unhappy clerks and nurses that look like the world owed them a living. well if you cant deal with it dont work in a goddamn hospital. and open your main entrances for god’s sake. which hospital in the world DOESN’T open their main entrance! just because someone isn’t hemorrhaging or dying doesn’t mean he or she doesn’t need help.
and sure enough by the next day my foot got more swollen, and i had to pay for uninsured physiotherapy sessions in order to get an x ray (which thank goodness is 85% subsidised, although i wonder how much trouble i have to go through to claim it), because the hospital just wouldn’t do it. it wasn’t a fracture but it was certainly more than an ankle injury, a bad muscle sprain on the middle of my foot that put me on crutches for 5 days.
as such another point being, if the hospital was willing/able to treat me i wouldnt have to spend extra ON TOP of the insurance that i’ve already paid for. knn.
somehow i’m finding it harder and harder. with each day i feel a bit more reluctant to leave carl at the end of the year, but the realities of things drags me all the way down, beneath the soil.
i remember this scene in True Blood where Stephen rises naked from the earth and grabs Sookie, and they make love right in the middle of the graveyard. and in Prozac Nation, where Elizabeth says she finally understands why people want to kill and eat their lovers, inhale their ashes, because it’s the only way to truly possess someone.
But is love really like that? just a purely animalistic instinct, to fuck, to kill? then again, is it not love if it doesn’t push you to the extreme? i know i should probably be more preoccupied with scholarly thoughts. Just a couple of weeks ago i wrote an essay on comedy/wit, and even Freud admits that the genius of creating laughter is something he cannot explain… and yet, for him love is purely sexual from birth, to your mother, your father, your baby brother.
i think we should all just learn to stop thinking.
the train ride is very much a solitary experience. this is not to say that i have never taken one with company, but most of the time, i don’t. and if you were to pay any slight attention, you will be able to see that, paradoxically, even as you sit by yourself, you are not alone in feeling the same way.
what is the train? it is a marvellous invention. it is made up of long, big, spacious cabins, with just the right amount of cushion on the seats to make the longest journey satisfactorily bearable. especially on connex trains, there is always that bit of separation between every space, in case someone has the nerve to sit beside you. at this point in time, your radius of privacy is significantly reduced, and you fidget. but despite the warmth of this intruder, you are still alone in a space you can’t claim, with your flighting presence that comes, and goes. we are all by ourselves yet members of the public order.
but enough of that, there are things to do and people waiting. until then it’s just you, The Weepies, and the passing scenery.
——
carl saw this post and said, “try taking it during peak hour, you’ll have a very different opinion.” (:
it’s the same old shit every year, but you can’t help feeling the national pride that comes with the fireworks display, kind of like, well we must not be doing too badly since we can afford heart-shaped fireworks. or the songs laced with the reinforcement of singaporean identity and patriotism, or how we sing along no matter how cheesy or blatant it is. “Home”, for example, is a totally political song that we have been in love with since primary school, and it is especially important with the huge number of overseas singaporeans today.
but you see, sometimes i really don’t find that there is anything wrong with this propaganda. i mean, at least it’s quite in your face and not all subliminal. and if home is really that strict and bad a place, well i don’t think i’ll be where i am right now. some part of me does love singapore. it will always be home to me. no matter how many shopping malls they build or how they paint over the walls again and again, it is like one of the few constants against the fucking tide of change.
it’s good to know that i have at least this familiarity to look forward to.
I am thinking it’s a sign
That the freckles in our eyes
Are mirror images and
When we kiss they’re perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate
That God himself did make us into
Corresponding shapes like puzzles pieces
From the clay
True, it may seem like a stretch
But it’s thoughts like this
That catch my troubled head
When you’re away, when I am missing you to death
When you were out there on the road
For several weeks of shows
And when you scan the radio
I hope this song will guide you home
They will see us waving from such great heights
“Come down now,” they’ll say
But everything looks perfect from far away
“Come down now,” but we’ll stay
I’ve tried my best to leave
This all on your machine
But the persistent beat
Sounded thin upon listening
That frankly will not fly
You will hear the shrillest highs
And lowest lows with the windows down
When this is guiding you home
They will see us waving from such great heights
“Come down now,” they’ll say
But everything looks perfect from far away
“Come down now,” but we’ll say…
“And you know what the worst part of it is? Our whole existence here is based on this great premise that we’re special. They we’re superior to the whole thing. But we’re not. We’re just like everyone else! We bought into the same, ridiculous delusion.”
it really isn’t about how a film encourages abortion, or does not, or talks about the right values or the wrong things. it’s being so starkly in-your-face that it reminds you of the little life cycle that all sane normal people are forever trapped in, and all those crazy others have the power to run free.
