factsheet

fact: this video was made in 1992
fact: the world has only become musch worse in the intervening period
fact: there is only so much idealism and emotive appeal can do
fact: the speech does not account for the many implications through which the actions so simply put simply cannot be so simply done
fact: there are nuances for each atrocity which makes it difficult to rectify and impossible to brush over with mere indignance
fact: the innocence and fervour of a young one is always touching
fact: the people listening to the girl do not have the necessary political sway in their own countries
fact: thus what precisely can solve these issues are for those in command to acknowledge and determine to improve things
fact: reference to historical good times does not differ much from saying the good ol' days and this, reminiscent of the 900 centuries old grandma to whom do you really give that much serious thought to for her every single utterance of emotive narration?
fact: you do not.
fact: this girl held sway over the united nations international conference of environment for 5 minutes
fact: she held sway for only 5 minutes.

pray, give pause

artistry's exploitation

into the first three minutes of slumdog millionaire, it was already apparent that the film would be a memorable one. not withstanding the ingenious use of an overplayed gameshow, the precise choice of the setting guaranteed its success. and strangely throughout the film what i had to remind myself was not to disregard the actuality of the people, but not to dwell on too much of the reality. i actually gasped at the first extreme wide high angle shot of the slums. it was like my lego bricks after i'd puked all over them.

and the scene of jamal running with shit all over him made me tear.

if there is no more socioeconomic inequity there will be no more interesting places to which people can pay visits, and in order to not contaminate the beautiful rural your beloved havens remain steeped in innocence as they do in poverty, prostitution, and child slavery.

in a place where children beg and thievery is the only way of life where would true love stand? perhaps not exactly upon that land on which the child who sings like a nightingale was knocked out and onto his eyes poured hot wax that he may be blind to earn more sympathy and more money

the cut between latika escaping from the train to the villains catching up would have looked nicer had they been on opposite sides of the frame (meanwhile, women do their laundry in dirty canals beside which the zinc roofs of their homes shade a few tentatively surviving weeds)

lacklustre

so i have feasted on glorious bread for the past few days during lunch and drinking insane amounts of water to fill myself for this grand opening night of the comedic mime in which i lead the dance and will henceforth lead and teach the dance and will henceforth be the only in the pair to remember the steps and to, after travelling to boon lay from pasir ris, take a cab home because i saw the last train leave when the bus stopped at the final traffic light before the interchange. thus will be my memory of the last performance i have. and unspeakable words drizzle like sparkles on this bed of lacklustre moss. exquisite, indeed

A Hundred Ways to Say Your Name - Tania De Rozario

I avoid speaking your name in conversation, throwing it to the air as if it were nothing more than an assumption of you; it is my last mode of defense. The last item of clothing to discard before I realise I'm naked in public

But when I'm alone, I tie my tongue softly round the familiar sound, as if pronouncing with conviction the phonetics of desire will cause time to pause just long enough for the earth to hear me naming my loss.

You, at my door, typewriter in hand.

This metronome heart by a broken piano.

Your smile is revolution.

Unrequited love was a dress rehearsal.

Three days later, we pretend to shop for sofas for our new house.

The heart-space that used to be home.

And inhibitions fell like us, into love.

pun intended

the lulling song

on lonely drives down neverending roads.
it has no meaning and all the significance in the world

365+365=17,520

(and cheesy cheese)

hopeful hope

trivia of the day

michael just shared with me what his pastor said in church on sunday. according to a research done in the uk with 40 thousand married couples, the top 3 needs of men and women are:

men
1. sexual fulfillment
2. recreation companionship
3. attractive spouse

women
1. affection
2. communication
3. honesty and openness

my first reaction was are men really so much of dickheads and no way i am like that. if you distil mixtures using different processes and instruments the residue will differ.

so michael said the pastor substantiated each point with a verse from the bible, for example the point on men wanting physically attractive spouses, he said that god judges by what is within, not the without.

still, surely there is an inevitable interaction and mutual influence between a person's looks and their hearts. indeed as many actual situations have shown, how you look on the outside often affects how you feel, and this does not necessarily have to be a direct link, but nonetheless a valid one.

aiyaa. very late to think about religion and today is 2nd day menses. i hope for world peace and i hope all the children can eat healthily play happily and sleep peacefully.

everyday i say something i regret

what shall it be tonight?

active ageing

one of the most difficult things to have to admit is that some things can only be learnt with age, and these lessons are, even when i feel ancient and creaky and flabby, still not easy to stomach.

for example. i have learnt to begin to be happy for others who are embarking on journeys on which i cannot join in because of various reasons. such as modelling...okay this is the main one. and sometimes it gets really sour because i know i can walk better and pose better and it really really is only because of my fats that i am unable to do this.

and dance. performance opportunities are increasingly scarce because of my past chances to perform, my inability to immediately pick up stunts, my inability to jump to the sky, and yes. my weight again. please tell me why im bummed to be fat, i really wouldn't be able to guess

and love. the whole making-guys-like-me thing used to be fun and transgressively exciting and all, up till an uncomfortable recent period, but i realise it is time to respect and cherish friendship for friendship's sake, and i should divert such futile effort to nurturing my relationships with the important friends instead.

like michelle who texted me on her birthday to ask me out and began her text with "happy birthday to me!" cause i haven't wished her yet; like chengs who is my favourite friend and for whom i haven't been able to do shit; like elaine whom i have not contacted since forever; like vans who has covered so much for me when i've disappeared to be emo and useless. and mingyang towards whom i haven't been a friend for a long, long time.

i just really love all my friends. and whoa shit if i', nostalgic enough to type this i am really old. SHIT

all the wounded souls

staunch disbelief that your world is a plight
unwavering, brave smiles
more laughter. more
to fill the empty air with any damn thing

alongside each other we trudge our separate paths

once upon a time sometimes, we glance at each other. always the surprise at the semblance of company. always the staunch denial thereof thereafter.

i'm afraid to be alone now, i have to always have company. the phone bill is getting increasingly costly with the number of texts i send - free for dinner? how about supper? do you want to have coffee? been to the library lately?

to fill the gaps with meaningless laughter or to embrace my inner fluffy useless self i don't know.

disney disneyland, all the sparkles of joy i wish upon you. happily, ever after

i love grouchy cartoons

GAHD i hate doctor shows

"..jerry?"

"yea?"

"what if you die?"

"i won't die. i'm not done loving you yet."

"okay"

-
(he died)

if i believe in poetry at all

i will stop trying to fulfil a socially sanctioned set of experiences. and at this; don't you just love puns? you gotta. really.

country roads, take me home

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance

Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
:lee ann womack


When you’re standing at the crossroads
And don’t know which path to choose
Let me come along
cause even if you’re wrong, I’ll stand by you
I’ll stand by you
:girls aloud

THE LOVE

peer

over the low wall around your self;
momentary glimpses. some clear
others obscured

nocturnal verbal diarrhea

in my small world, my sunday comprises of lunch with my boyfriend, his mother, and his childhood friend. mee siam and topshell-mistaken-for-abalone and then a new can of abalone that we told auntie not to open but the age old "aiya, chinese new year, must eat until bao bao"

and then a futile attempt at remembering the only piece i know how to play on the piano, and then dinner at a coffeeshop with my extended family. yu sheng and fried rice and lobster with FRUIT PASTE (yay) and shark's fin soup and herbal chicken and steamed fish and vegetables with mushrooms and ice cream

and then boyboy asking me how to spell assistant for the hundredth time and my sister listening to ji de by amei for the millionth time and my dad rushing me to go shower so that he can take a lifetime in the bathroom and then me looking through my notebook for my first solo export session tomorrow and papa and boyboy playing chinese chess and papa telling another of his whoa-last-time-ah stories.

Darling, so share with me
Your love if you have enough
Your tears if you're holding back
Or pain if that's what it is
How can I let you know
I'm more than the dress and the voice
Just reach me out then
You would know that you're not dreaming
:eyes on me - faye wong

one of my first debates with mingyang on music was about final fantasy vii, his personal favourite - i said that music can be appreciated in its own right and contextualised as to whatever is relevant to each unique listener. kind of a textual analysis kind of thing. he disagreed, saying that understanding the story for which the piece was composed would give it inherent depth and symbolism that would make it more memorable for the listener, and that the applicability would be drawn from an already poignant tale. i disagreed, and then he told me the story of final fantasy vii. and then i changed my mind.

shall i be the one for you,
who reaches out softly but sure?

i am notvery sure if i should have written the 25 notes thing! i hope i have not said too much about myself. please don't hate or despise or love me, for what i know not, but please just don't.

there are moments stolen almost true and maybe it does not matter if they were so to you, for they are to me i can almost touch you right here right now. this i will distil into essence to scent my writings, and maybe the next time we meet the wafts of memory's semblance will draw you in,
again

to see a world in a grain of sand
heaven in a wild flower;
hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
and eternity in an hour.
:william blake

The Wind's Party - Enid Blyton

"Come and play too!" cried the autumn wind to the children. "Come along, come along! For every leaf you catch before it reaches the ground you shall have a happy day next year!"

Let's go and catch them as they swirl in the air. Let's see if we can catch three hundred and sixty-five, a whole year of wonderful, happy days!