2.37am, or Writing Poems in the Night

alliteration is
a short sweet song to
hum
harmlessly, hopefully
happily
.
.
accidental
adoration

suicide by rash: a chinese song of winter

this time it starts with a rash. a growing itch, festering like an unseen and largely unperceived wound for a week before someone sights it and gasps in horror - it is contagious, frightening; indeed, disgusting.

the book is ironically opened to "Suicide by Fitness Center". almost you imagine a fantastical construction, it must have been planned, such poetry is surely not spontaneous, that would be unfathomable!

the song that plays on repeat is wintry, chinese, emotional, orchestral. oriental and thus exotic as we are apt to term anything asian.

there is a red stain of the unknown skin ailment on her left eyelid still, this slight blemish will have some murmuring in softly admonishing tones of the blight.

such words, such thoughts! you conjure and shiver in the safety of imagination. turn over and sleep on your other side and your back, turned against all the world

child, you spoke (and i feel you slipping again)

do you love, do you need love

fringe

should i cut my fringe into bangs again? or leave it as it is long and convenient to be tied up so i can easily sweep hair off my face for work/study/times of frustration? should i dye my hair red? should i dye my hair black? should i start using fake eyelashes when i put on makeup?

should i get braces? should i get my nose done? lipo my thighs? shrink my nostrils?

how much a person changes before a person changes

if you feel you can no longer talk to me anymore because i am not me anymore i am truly sorry for your loss and i sincerely hope that elsewhere there is an other more worthy of your friendship.

if the question is whether i love you still, of course i do.

(twitter silences people because u say so many things in snippets that nothing is left for the long form writing as this)

你掌心的痣我总记得在那里

http://www.haoting.com/htmusic/24930ht.htm

belly buttons and cured computers

or, Why I Am A Horrible Friend To Have And Why You Should Ignore Me

have some have none

i wish you were all happy and stopped screaming at me

surely few others are as compelling as the unfathomable purity of a child's voice

(although i can't say i endorse the visuals for the music video; the melody - mesmerising.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b61z7jCTahs

the beauty of otherness

seeing you through an other's eyes i realise how beautiful each of you are. we all see many things, it is only that few truly look.

and in the moment when you do, the world transforms into a breathtaking wonderland of pure possibility

the tweats of tweeting

kian boon is not the only friend who has professed skepticism for twitter being something else than explicit narcissism. and i only just recently hopped lightly (and kindda accidentally incidentally) off that wagon.

it is true that having gone through the history of communication studies and the media management and the communication research modules, my interest in social networking platforms has vastly increased compared to the past. it remains so novel really to understand from various perspectives how such avenues are viewed and used. from an outsider; an insider with a stake; an insider with a particular objective; and the nonchalant/skeptical bystander. the different reasons for, as an example, perceiving worthlessness in a platform as twitter - because of a preconception of the objective of users as having certain excessively self-expressive tendencies in using twitter, or that there is negligible differentiation between twitter and other social networking platforms as facebook thereby repetition being grounds for proof of narcissism. or, that the sheer indulgence in such immediate self-expression is too much self-disclosure and essentially redundant because of a lack of tangible, justifiable, founded rationale for such.

naturally, that is only one possible direction to understand the phenomenon of twitter, or any other social networking platform.

it is nonetheless always an eye-opening reminder, when faced with individuals who follow closely their own opinions, that the ability to see things from multiple viewpoints is not a talent nor a habit as much as a sustained effort to constantly review possible variations in perception, and to grasp the nuances of the wherefores and why-nots.

anyway i bought the most gorgeous long pencil skirt ever from forever21 today and it was for $25. and a killer pair of 4inch black stilettos from mondo for $9.90 (i know right!!!). catching up with the vans and having long chats at random cafes is The Love. rocks.

im\print

they have taken a toll on me and there are no words left

conversationalist

talking to different people really gives insight to different perspectives. the worried mother nonchalant son wholly adolescent brother and random projectmate.

so many voices and such high hopes but so little time to pass around...

in any case if anyone readsmy blog at all please go to home club on saturday 8 august 2pm to 8pm. it is chengs' flea market stall day and she must earn many money to buy much stuff.

goodnight, all

deromanticism

when they inject general anaesthesia into the iv drip on the back of the wrist, please do not be mistakenly expecting some swirling slumber descending upon your self like fluffy clouds; it is liquid pain coursing luxuriantly slowly through your arm towards your heart.

you squint uncontrollably and wince, a dreaming drunk wrenched from the comforting darkness and suddenly exposed to glaring sunshine. worst of all, you don't even have the decent civility to scream. what ensues instead is some strangled, warbled, surprised gasp punctuated by slightly frothing spittle.

twitter tweet tweet!

twitter.com/dreamsandsuch

this entire social networking thing is getting into my head, i swear. i am absolutely, irrevocably, unquestionably and unquestioningly, completely and uncontrollably addicted to rambling about various things on the many platforms open to me. i just posted a note on facebook; i write in a diary that mingyang reads because i want to let him know what i think about (oh the horror of such self-disclosure you cannot imagine), and i tweet

goodness gracious me. am i becoming mainstream? for the love of all things marginal and poetic i sincerely hope not tankgyor.

cambodia was a much welcomed respite, really. really really.

i feel more like a woman these days. hopefully this is not a bubble because i am rather in disdain of and eager to shed the hesitant, occassionally stuttering, excessively apologetic and altogether not entirely attractive, girl i have been for so long. and goodness knows i have enough shit under my belt to warrant some semblance of maturity la please. wah lau eh.

school is starting and so is fyp. you know how cool my project is? it's so cool that watching films and reading people's blogs and listening to love stories of how such-and-such got together/broke up/patched up are relevant and necessary material, and doing all these is doing work. that's how cool my fyp is.

now, let us hold on carefully to this exquisite burst of enthusiasm and hopeful idealism and attractive maturity and insight and pray it does not extinguish

Creep - Radiohead