"It's the way o' the warrld!"

Today as I sat studying for my Sociology mid-terms at Coffee Bean, the resident jukebox malfunctioned and played "Que Sera Sera" 10 times in a row. Considering that the song contains 7 mentions of "Que Sera Sera, whatever will be, will be, the future's not ours to see...", I heard this phrase for a grand total of 70 times. The worse thing was that the cleaners piped in at all the choruses (assuming (wrongly) that since they were standing near the office no one could hear them..but I could, and extremely clearly for that matter!). The yuppie guy sitting at the table next to mine followed suit.

It is ominous foreshadowing. Tomorrow's paper will be a foregone conclusion. As such after the tenth replay of that song, I got up to leave, and the jukebox started playing "Moon River".

It's all a conspiracy, I say. I can get a hint when I hear one.

"But hard fate had ordained that he should be unable to call up this Divine spirit in his need. The whole land ahead of him was as darkness itself: there was nothing to come, nothing to wait for." - Thomas Hardy, The Mayor of Casterbridge

mono

The moon shines bright tonight and is swollen with light.

Unintentional

This laptop is the bane of my life. Everyday I wake up I turn it on just to see the apple logo glow and get this odd tingling sense of satisfaction that lasts for about 5 seconds. And then I log onto MSN and get bombed at once by people asking about work and settling farewell dinners and presents and all sorts of other things. And so I chat and forget what I originally intended to do.

Which explains the measly progress I've had in studying for my Sociology mid-terms coming this wednesday, and I don't really know where to start or how to start. Give me the A Levels anytime. At least there was a sense of purpose/direction then.

But I suppose back then (as if it was a very long time ago!!) at least there was the prospect of the long break to look forward to. Now after getting myself involved in PCO, my December break is burnt with 10 consecutive nights at the Esplanade (not forgetting the weekly Tuesday night rehearsals at Kallang!!) I feel my life slipping through my fingers.

Kidding.

It's fun to work yourself to death.

(Oops. I don't believe the last line just slipped out! It was meant to be a normal, non-morbid entry...really!)

Chinatown 2300

The middle-aged man with a tummy, (in shorts and socks and leather shoes, clutching a ladies' handbag, using an umbrella as a walking stick), sashays through the rows of lanterns, peering and pouting and flinging his legs out in front of him as he walks.

[The ubiquitous grating electronic sounds play from plastic lanterns - Spiderman, Nemo..they even have F4 on lanterns now! ]

The excessively-muscular black man in black goggles (at night?!) and a tight, colourful lycra cycling outfit weaves up and down the rows of shops in his racer bike. The porcelain dolls stare out of shops and you wonder if any of them come alive and march down the streets in the wee hours of the morning like Chucky.

The tourist aims his large black camera at us and he thinks he could escape unnoticed but I NOTICED and stared into his large black camera (wondering at the same time what a cool assasination device it would be if light could kill). He was definitely taking a picture of you. And after taking it he stared at the digital screen for a very very long time, then started taking the shophouses around him as if that could have fooled anyone. Grr.

00 00
The flyover next to the esplanade is wide and silent. If you lie down across the road, how long will it take before you get rolled over by a car?

Then again, suspense kills.

You are the fox.


Saint Exupery's 'The Little Prince' Quiz.
brought to you by Quizilla

If emoticons could kill

With the recent spate of excessive MSN-ing, I've realised how convenient emoticons are in conveying what you do not feel (a.k.a the socially correct response). For example, to a particularly obnoxious person, if you have nothing to say, you just keep dumping on the smileys. If you don't feel anything at any particular moment, you stiil drop a smiley to say 'hey i'm still with you and not zonking out in Wonderland'. I begin to believe more and more that emoticons mean the exact opposite of how they look. Wonder if anyone agrees?

Case in point: To the person I felt like stabbing tonight, I smiled the most.

Well but I suppose it isn't as hypocritical as it sounds because I smile when I visualise the point of contact when the knife point hits the person's chest, pierces the clean surface of the skin, rips through the muscles and spill the blood. Pretty.

Ashcan rantings

The inner arsonist in everyone is unleashed during the seventh month. There are copious mounds of ash sitting at the void deck waiting for the wind to come and blow them through people's windows. I am not spared the attack of the ash fragments even though I stay on the 12th floor. I come home to the sickly (sweet?) smell of burning joss paper and compulsively arranged candles that surround the block at irregular intervals. Who was that who said 'we have no one to fear but ourselves?'

I unwittingly borrowed a graphic novel from Orchard Library 'Batman: Arkham asylum - a serious house on serious earth'. 'Unwittingly' because I didn't see the tiny words 'batman' on the cover - it was too cluttered with other images; and I don't normally read Batman, (despite having my film lecturer speculate almost every week now that Batman is gay). I have to say the book's bloody brilliant. (pardon my French, but it works well for alliteration, and plosives always go far in emphasis). It's rather Neil Gaiman-aspiring, but it really explores all areas of the theme of madness well, from duality to repressed emotions/the Oedipal complex to self-mutilation 'just to feel something' (though I know this sounds really cliche); from hallucinations to visions to lewis carroll to heavenly images (a la Ginsberg) to the denial of madness - it really screams "EN2101_2!" (which in case you are wondering, is the module code for 'Madness and Literature' which is what I'm doing now.) Illustrations (done by Dave McKean who did work a fair bit with Gaiman), are really cool in ther 'gothic-ness' and there is beauty in the gore. Pretty.

(I did notice though that the book lay neglected on the shelves for quite sometime. People snatched at other stuff like the manga and The Far Side and Buffy..)

Was zoning out at Holland V at night and was spotted by Chandran (my director) who peered through the already transparent glass door of Delifrance and waved. It was most possibly the highest point of today, considering today involved sitting through a mind-numbing social work lecture and a mind-screwing film, Memento. I will officially attain a higher state of conciousness if i don't get some sleep now; maybe I'll go mad, which is a rather attractive option now.

"I see now the virtue in madness, for this country knows no law nor any boundary. I pity the poor shades confined to the Euclidean prison that is sanity"
- From the Journals of Amadeus Arkham, Batman-Arkham's asYluM