'tis the noise from the time, she
crumbled
on hazy, hollow wood, in front
of velvety red,
where there was gloom, and all that
was not.
under less than foreign reign,
'tis was the voice she heard.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Jumbled up weeks
Yesterday Wei Chong introduced me to two of his friends from the clique he claimed "cooler" than us- Jacky and Jason- and for once I was completely certain that I was more of a JC girl than the polytechnic(s) I'm in/not in. The JC culture, alike Dunman's, is easily and more inevitably lucid, earthly... boring, if you may. But I'm comfortable in the bore, and even though amidst it, oils a varying layer of studiousness, which is not me, not me entirely, I like being surrounded by it rather than crazy, forgotten nights that is a poly- no, my course. I think I've never really felt like I fit in whilst in school. This is spoken not in that cliche, miserable way, but with jest. I don't fit in, that is what it is and actually, with that, I am assured constantly of myself and I like that.
I don't feel like I want to ramble about this anymore in this post because I have pictures and I always think that, notwithstanding them conveying so much more meaning to me than to a stranger who has no idea [who I am, what I look like in real life, what my friends/family look like in real life, how we interact with one another, how I speak usually (because: I most certainly don't speak as I write for that will be just insane, wouldn't it), how the place around me/us looks like in accuracy], they (the photos) are intrinsically, a magical cover-up. With them, a little tête-à-tête spent reminiscing is assembled with psychedelic words.
We (hardly) worked yesterday for two community sharing events and then had ice-cream at Ice Cream Chefs. Jason rented a car and drove us around. They made me feel very embraced as a newcomer on their own. Wei Chong also passed me a series of really pretty earrings and a "pretentious" hand-held fan he bought for me from his trip to Bali with that same bunch of friends.
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I don't feel like I want to ramble about this anymore in this post because I have pictures and I always think that, notwithstanding them conveying so much more meaning to me than to a stranger who has no idea [who I am, what I look like in real life, what my friends/family look like in real life, how we interact with one another, how I speak usually (because: I most certainly don't speak as I write for that will be just insane, wouldn't it), how the place around me/us looks like in accuracy], they (the photos) are intrinsically, a magical cover-up. With them, a little tête-à-tête spent reminiscing is assembled with psychedelic words.
We (hardly) worked yesterday for two community sharing events and then had ice-cream at Ice Cream Chefs. Jason rented a car and drove us around. They made me feel very embraced as a newcomer on their own. Wei Chong also passed me a series of really pretty earrings and a "pretentious" hand-held fan he bought for me from his trip to Bali with that same bunch of friends.
1) 29th January 2012: Alex and I at Wild Honey for an evening of intense conversation and pretentiousness. I had tea in a legit set.
2) 2nd February 2012: successful Leadership presentation day with my mates, (left to right) Emilyn, Rushan, Marcus and SK.
3) 4th February 2012: out to ION Orchard for 4Fingers chicken, Plaza Singapura for fried mushrooms, and lots of walking.
4) 5th February 2012: steamboat with Kamini, Leon and Kenneth, after which I hurled salty water more than nine times. Leon also gave me wonderful Christmas presents. I refuse to post up ones of them pretending they could play the guitar.
5) 10th February 2012: Ikea and Giant shopping with Jing Zhi and Leon for Multi-camera demonstration recording. Of course we stopped for food; it was part of our plan.
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6) 12th February 2012: when Ivan drove me to Bugis so that I could edit Basic Sub-editing articles at the Coffee Bean by Plaza by the Park;
7) practising make-up for the demonstration recording the following day to failure.
8) 16th February 2012: satisfying, satisfying dimsum with Leon. It's just like biting into a 4Fingers chicken after a long time.
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9) latest additions to my life. My childhood swing at the corner of my room, books mentioned before, On Love by Alain de Botton, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. The pink book is hardly fluffly and is quite the philosophical rapture.
Why are cafes I have been meaning to visit all closed on Mondays?
Friday, February 17, 2012
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Whitney my love
I wouldn't call myself her biggest fan, and I wouldn't say that like with Beyonce, I have chased her music for the good part of my life which stays in my memory; but indeed like Beyonce, Whitney Houston is one of the singers I think about when I strip all inhibitions and sing in the toilet. I think the greatest form of flattery is when someone listens to you and then models after your singing, and thus this is the greatest gift I am giving to Whitney Houston as a small, almost no-soul in her human life.
Unlike Amy Winehouse, whom I've come to love only over the years of my youth, Whitney is the voice amongst others which had led me into the life that is- my adolescence, my childhood. My parents themselves, are great lovers of her soul, her gospel, and I think, secretly, that my mom sees her in me when she pushes the mic into the creases of my toddler palms and clicks on "I Have Nothing" on our cheap karaoke set. But that is only because when you sing a Whitney Houston song, you will imagine the way she would have done it- with so much soul, so much conviction, so little effort, that you believe she'd meant to share every moment with you too. If you love her, you'd hear her song and see her.
I remember my greatest Whitney Houston moment. It was the first time I watched the video of the collaboration with Mariah Carey in "When You Believe". Before, I'd always felt more than disappointed for her downward spiral with drugs; not with her, but with her husband, with Hollywood, with life. What happened to my idol, I used to ask, is she ever going to be the Whitney Houston again, the woman who made me, made the singing I do, the music I am. Then I found that video and all weary was but replaced with sobs. I felt guilty for doubting her, for thinking that she could not rise up to her former glory after her stint, but the fact is that her glory never left. When she sang, she still had the same, if not, stronger determination to deliver her true best, and I think she made Beyonce, whom I love so much, the artiste she is now too. Above all, I heard her voice and I knew no one could touch her quality. No one, forever.
I love Whitney Houston so much, and even though Hollywood had introduced me to her and her sublimity, it had also destroyed her pristine, sane mind. If sadness on our parts would bring her the rest and peace she needed, then we shall not grieve, but give, send.
tears tears tears
Unlike Amy Winehouse, whom I've come to love only over the years of my youth, Whitney is the voice amongst others which had led me into the life that is- my adolescence, my childhood. My parents themselves, are great lovers of her soul, her gospel, and I think, secretly, that my mom sees her in me when she pushes the mic into the creases of my toddler palms and clicks on "I Have Nothing" on our cheap karaoke set. But that is only because when you sing a Whitney Houston song, you will imagine the way she would have done it- with so much soul, so much conviction, so little effort, that you believe she'd meant to share every moment with you too. If you love her, you'd hear her song and see her.
I remember my greatest Whitney Houston moment. It was the first time I watched the video of the collaboration with Mariah Carey in "When You Believe". Before, I'd always felt more than disappointed for her downward spiral with drugs; not with her, but with her husband, with Hollywood, with life. What happened to my idol, I used to ask, is she ever going to be the Whitney Houston again, the woman who made me, made the singing I do, the music I am. Then I found that video and all weary was but replaced with sobs. I felt guilty for doubting her, for thinking that she could not rise up to her former glory after her stint, but the fact is that her glory never left. When she sang, she still had the same, if not, stronger determination to deliver her true best, and I think she made Beyonce, whom I love so much, the artiste she is now too. Above all, I heard her voice and I knew no one could touch her quality. No one, forever.
I love Whitney Houston so much, and even though Hollywood had introduced me to her and her sublimity, it had also destroyed her pristine, sane mind. If sadness on our parts would bring her the rest and peace she needed, then we shall not grieve, but give, send.
tears tears tears
Tuesday, February 07, 2012
Happy (belated) 2012
This is overdue to an extent that need not be spoken.
2011 and its bits:
1)
Last year I've met so many ugly people, truly truly horrendous beings who are plastic, evil, mean, hypocritical, judgmental, narcissistic, all together, which made me feel, wow, Dunman has really sheltered us from the corrupt of the world, in what way do all these self-conceitedness deserve my civility; and when I feel desolate about the surroundings I like to think about them, their goodness, and this rush of warmth and hope would settle into the core of my heart, a smile creep unto my frown.
Maybe I say this too many times but no amount of repetition can cease this gratefulness I feel. The year has made me more certain that Leon and Wei Chong truly are my bestest friends in the whole world- like I didn't know before already. I feel like the two separate friendships and one as a trio I have with both of them, are together, a faith that is renewed daily, monthly, yearly, whether we gather with each other or not. As Leon had so accurately willed it as: whenever I think about our friendship I need not hope for forever nor try too hard to arrange meet-ups to keep in touch because I know with all guts, no matter what happens, we will always find our way back to each other, like it is so right, so meant to be.
It is going to be that way. We are going to be friends for as long as our genuine souls shall live. How blessed I am, for how many people can actually say the same about their current peers? They are too close to be considered as pals, no, but they, my brothers. It's been six years or seven, I am not fully aware but it's okay because time is reduced to almost nothing in this miracle.
In 2011, Leon and I have drunken together countless of times, been partners in truancy, went on air in school with David as a trio, pulled lots of overnighters in the company of each other, co-hosted for broadcast, worked together again for two weeks in a total mirthful daze (time spent at UE Square really felt like so, like we were in a whole other sophisticated, nearly pretentious universe), sang as a pair for a public performance, entered a clique with Kenneth and Kamini, both gotten assignments from BRIDGE;
up till point, it struck me that I can't write about him enough. All the times we've spent together... we are soul-mates, inseparable. Our friendship has come to a point where he is thoroughly accepted by my family as my best friend and/or sibling, not just a mere close friend who still draggles along with an air of politeness when he visits. Leon struts into my house before I do and heads first for the fridge on most occasions. My mom screams (with joy) and embraces him when he acknowledges her presence. Even my dad, a man of few words when with non-family, comes over and ruffles both our hats of hair when we are studying in the dining room, saying, both of you, must study hard okay- something nagged only to me in the past.
In 2011, Wei Chong and I have drunken together (on my birthday, during the class chalet and maybe other more times), baked together, studied together only to have me leave my things an hour later and rush down to outside Zouk with all forgiveness from him to settle a drunk, unconscious fool, and I have told him things, so many, too many things that I conclude that I can't get any closer to anyone else more intimately. I love Wei Chong so so much. Also I ate dinner with his family for the first time.
This man is a different story altogether. My parents adore him and talk about him all the time in the car, at dinner, anywhere. Around the topic of him, they act like giggly primary school friends, teasing whenever I mention traits about him, like it's so surprising I know anything about my best friend at all, and trying to cajole me into the idea of a relationship. You can tell they really approve of him because they don't like me in relationships at all, their dear eighteen-year-old baby girl. My mom has been convinced since secondary one that he is the perfect son-in-law for her, and when I tell her that it's impossible without being the least bit uncertain or coy, I can just see her desperation alleviating to the point of thought, maybe I should have another daughter to have Wei Chong in the family.
I feel like my friendships with both of them, separate and together, have grown so much. It used to be, okay I'll tell you this, Leon, and this, Wei Chong, and that, another; but now I can tell them both everything. Everything, and I'm not even kidding. At first it was difficult for I know topics of certain made them uncomfortable (e.g. re: sex, intense family stuff, etc), and I try not to put them in a tough spot like that because they are already awkward and jaded as it is with others unfamiliar. But each, on separate days and on beer and/or sudden courage, I said what I really wanted to share and from then on, I keep no secrets from them. It's a 2011 improvement and I guess this is what I like most about the friendships of the year.
The above paragraphs are also why I mention them so much in almost everything I say, do, write, breathe. I feel like people think I'm crazy like, why is she talking about [Leon and/or Wei Chong] so much, so many, I don't even know them, are they together, what is this thing they have, she's obsessed. But maybe I am. Maybe I am a little bit too flustered over the people I love. I have come to a point of my years where I think, why shouldn't I mention people who are always omnipresent in my life
other great people who are so noteworthy for the year 2011 are (only mentioned those I'm very sure of):
Alex; I will never forget our conversations of music, movies and the whole world. She is a gem and I love her so so much.
Shaun; if I had a list of my favourite guy friends, he would be a close second in place (first: Leon and Wei Chong in a tie).
Christy; truly my guardian angel, always fawning over my foolishness yet supporting my choices with the same degree of goodness she has in her heart.
Georgina; though I'd not seen her right until the near end of the year. But she is one of those friends who make time apart seem so insignificant, for we will always have lots to talk about and lots to adore about each other.
Miss Yeo; this is the year I really feel we have truly came out of that restraining teacher-student relationship and became genuine close friends. When she said, you always choose the wrong guys, why can't you pick guys more deserving of you; I knew- for she once told me that she does not want to comment on my love life because she felt it very inappropriate for a teacher.
Kamini and Kenneth; my pals since secondary one, people that are good for me and whom I can hold proper conversations with without the pukish recollection of narcissism.
Titus and Wei Jie; guys with each, good sense of humour. Always forgiving, understanding and overall great great people.
And this year I aim to get chummier with old friends, Eugene, Estee, my ex-cos, etc, and not so old friends, Nicholas David Sebastian, who has disappeared into his scary little world at home, Jing Zhi (a crazy, lovely, crazy girl, my other soul-mate I feel), Joanne. Also I miss Sheri and the six of us, and I wish to be better friends with my Leadership groupmates for they are indeed interesting in their own right.
2)
My parents- I have learnt to love them with appropriate or more quantities but never less. Just the other day I surprised myself by preaching to Victor the various reasons why mom, dad, both of them, are great, great human beings who have morphed me into this girl I am now. It was in the morning at eight and my manure of a face was dotted with blobs of Hazeline Snow cream as I got ready to finally go to sleep. He came into the room ever so timely with an arrival announcement of my breakfast (pork rib noodles, yum) and so I went down to eat and watch the news with him with swift plans in mind.
We were talking about issues in our family that were always there but never really discussed, for usually we just cry, scream or ignore, and I asked him: don't you think that mummy and daddy are amazing people? They have taught me to be polite, to be nice to others and their possessions before ourselves and our own, to be forgiving...
In 2011 I realised: they make me feel guilty; in fact I think they taught me the art of that, through their faithful visiting of their parents even if they are unkind or grumpy, my dad giving in to my mom's every wish after one mistake years, years back, and finally, through the sheepish grin they have on their faces when they peer into my room between the ajar door, saying "Sorry I didn't mean it. You know mummy [and/or] daddy loves you" and rush over to squash me into a moment of affection for their angry slaps or shouts before. I don't blame them for subconsciously letting me live my life with so much repentance (though sometimes these days I do tell them and jokingly complain with real frustrating tears) for because of this trait, I think hard before doing anything that would potentially hurt someone, I always feel to revocate my mistakes with all my sincerity, and I spend more time with my parents than I would, without. Because of this, the guilt will finally be gone when they leave for a place I'd join them in soon after, and not stay and haunt like it would to so many others. I can safely say that they know I love them.
But sometimes. Sometimes I feel like I can never be a good enough daughter because they are too perfect.
3)
Music stems my soul. In the year 2011 I was proud of what I listened to and what I didn't, which varies in a weird fashion. The following are some of my favourites at the moment:
/more known albums
19 by Adele
21 by Adele
[anything] by John Mayer
Be OK by Ingrid Michaelson
Zee Avi by Zee Avi
Corinne Bailey Rae by Corinne Bailey Rae
Ceremonials by Florence + The Machine
Rockferry by Duffy
/less known albums
[anything] by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong
[anything] by Norah Jones
Young The Giant by Young the Giant (I LOVE LOVE LOVE their open sessions)
Frank by Amy Winehouse (Stronger Than Me has a fucking awesome jazz introduction)
Until When We Are Ghosts by William Fitzsimmons
The Soul Sessions by Joss Stone
Hello...x by Tristan Prettyman
Bayside Acoustic EP by Bayside
The Art in My Heart by Clara C
Beautiful Seed by Corrinne May
Safe In A Crazy World by Corrinne May
One Cell in the Sea by A Fine Frenzy
The Memphis Album by Guy Sebastian
/more known songs
You've Got The Love by Florence + The Machine
Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine
Do It Like A Dude (acoustic) by Jessie J
Back To Black by Amy Winehouse
You Know I'm No Good by Amy Winehouse
Valerie by Amy Winehouse
Let's Call The Whole Thing Off by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong
Wallflower by Inch Chua
Live High by Jason Mraz
4 & 20 by Joss Stone
Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas by Michael Buble
Quando, Quando, Quando by Michael Buble
Me and Mrs Jones by Michael Buble
Express by Christina Aguilera
Bound to You by Christina Aguilera
The Way I Am by Ingrid Michaelson
I Try by Macy Gray
Gravity by Sara Bareilles
/less known songs
That Western Skyline by Dawes
Paris Nights/New York Mornings by Corinne Bailey Rae
New Romantic by Laura Marling
Humble Me by Norah Jones
My Dear Machine by Sixpence None The Richer
Shy That Way by Tristan Prettyman and Jason Mraz
You Still Hurt Me by William Fitzsimmons
Near To You by Nathan Hartono
Gravity by Sara Bareilles
There Is So Much More To This by Nathan Hartono
They Can't Take That Away From Me by Jane Monheit and John Pizzarelli
Love Songs by Anjulie
Hurt by Inch Chua
Song To Barbie by Bevelyn Khoo (pronunciation could improve)
Paul by Zsa and Claire
La Vie En Rose by Aoi Teshima
Late Night Request by The Great Spy Experiment
Mad About You by Hooverphonic
Quiet Nights And Quiet Stars by Olivia Ong
Runaway by Electrico
Sophia by Nerina Pallot
When You Call My Name by Dawes
Fall Again by Glenn Lewis
Some Kind of Wonderful by Joss Stone
*sorry for the disorganization. I type as I recall.
Reviewing my incomplete list now, I realise that my music taste is more eclectic than jazzy like I'd always thought it was, and it is quite mainstream. Also I know this myself already but I feel to say: I yearn to download full albums or better yet, discographies. If I like one, two songs out of six, seven, more, it's not enough and therefore not worth it. Nowadays I try to trash freshly downloaded albums I can't get into, like Sigh No More by Mumford and Sons and to-be Death Cab albums. If I don't adore it, I really don't. I've learnt not to force myself, quoting Wei Chong, not to conform to the social norm.
After this I'm going to check out Ida Maria. The Band of the Day application for iPhones has really exposed me to a lot of truly indie artistes whom little know about, and they are really really just sublime. I find myself dedicating notes and notes to remembering Gaby Moreno, Ntjam Rosie, etc, so that I can get right home and get their discographies. I like them more when others don't but because they are so unknown I can't download their music online at all.
Despite thinking that Sufjan Stevens is a good musician I can't appreciate his music. His songs make me feel very sadistic, like those of The Beatles.
I don't feel like I have anything else to say about 2011. I was in a relationship for a good portion of it and when I recall I accept that I have wasted my time in a way, but without it, I don't think I would grow to be a better person, so I will still say, thank you Kelvin, for all that I am and all that I am not, and vice-versa. If you ever see this, I honestly hope for your settling of inner peace with your new muse. And I miss your family.
Also, I have given up on thinking I can forget. Let nature take its (fucking) course, they tell me.
It is decided that I shall no longer reflect on the Christmas party as it was such a long time back now and I feel like it is a void or an impediment in my frequent blogging. Yet I will say that I had a charming evening and the day before (spent time with Wei Chong shopping, baking and having dinner with his mom, brother at his place), so much so that every time I cower up into deeming old friendships as nothing but obligation, I can revive this night with the visuals of physical and my memory, and know otherwise.
Here are some of the said photos:
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The last photo: that was when most left and Miss Yeo finally drove over to talk for ages. I really love that part of the night/dawn. She left at two~ a.m. with a seventy-dollar parking fine.
This is a very dreary post to compose but when I read through the completion I felt happy, like it is seriously a sludge out of the way and "I can move on to create more useful insight". So far this year I've completed three books- Super Sad True Love Story (finally. It was a good read but I don't want to review), Can You Keep a Secret? (I love this), and Richard Yates by Tao Lin (which I hated so so so much). Not too good but much more productive than last year. Today, too, is the seventh of February. Just thought of it and thought it funny.
2011 and its bits:
1)
Last year I've met so many ugly people, truly truly horrendous beings who are plastic, evil, mean, hypocritical, judgmental, narcissistic, all together, which made me feel, wow, Dunman has really sheltered us from the corrupt of the world, in what way do all these self-conceitedness deserve my civility; and when I feel desolate about the surroundings I like to think about them, their goodness, and this rush of warmth and hope would settle into the core of my heart, a smile creep unto my frown.
Maybe I say this too many times but no amount of repetition can cease this gratefulness I feel. The year has made me more certain that Leon and Wei Chong truly are my bestest friends in the whole world- like I didn't know before already. I feel like the two separate friendships and one as a trio I have with both of them, are together, a faith that is renewed daily, monthly, yearly, whether we gather with each other or not. As Leon had so accurately willed it as: whenever I think about our friendship I need not hope for forever nor try too hard to arrange meet-ups to keep in touch because I know with all guts, no matter what happens, we will always find our way back to each other, like it is so right, so meant to be.
It is going to be that way. We are going to be friends for as long as our genuine souls shall live. How blessed I am, for how many people can actually say the same about their current peers? They are too close to be considered as pals, no, but they, my brothers. It's been six years or seven, I am not fully aware but it's okay because time is reduced to almost nothing in this miracle.
In 2011, Leon and I have drunken together countless of times, been partners in truancy, went on air in school with David as a trio, pulled lots of overnighters in the company of each other, co-hosted for broadcast, worked together again for two weeks in a total mirthful daze (time spent at UE Square really felt like so, like we were in a whole other sophisticated, nearly pretentious universe), sang as a pair for a public performance, entered a clique with Kenneth and Kamini, both gotten assignments from BRIDGE;
up till point, it struck me that I can't write about him enough. All the times we've spent together... we are soul-mates, inseparable. Our friendship has come to a point where he is thoroughly accepted by my family as my best friend and/or sibling, not just a mere close friend who still draggles along with an air of politeness when he visits. Leon struts into my house before I do and heads first for the fridge on most occasions. My mom screams (with joy) and embraces him when he acknowledges her presence. Even my dad, a man of few words when with non-family, comes over and ruffles both our hats of hair when we are studying in the dining room, saying, both of you, must study hard okay- something nagged only to me in the past.
In 2011, Wei Chong and I have drunken together (on my birthday, during the class chalet and maybe other more times), baked together, studied together only to have me leave my things an hour later and rush down to outside Zouk with all forgiveness from him to settle a drunk, unconscious fool, and I have told him things, so many, too many things that I conclude that I can't get any closer to anyone else more intimately. I love Wei Chong so so much. Also I ate dinner with his family for the first time.
This man is a different story altogether. My parents adore him and talk about him all the time in the car, at dinner, anywhere. Around the topic of him, they act like giggly primary school friends, teasing whenever I mention traits about him, like it's so surprising I know anything about my best friend at all, and trying to cajole me into the idea of a relationship. You can tell they really approve of him because they don't like me in relationships at all, their dear eighteen-year-old baby girl. My mom has been convinced since secondary one that he is the perfect son-in-law for her, and when I tell her that it's impossible without being the least bit uncertain or coy, I can just see her desperation alleviating to the point of thought, maybe I should have another daughter to have Wei Chong in the family.
I feel like my friendships with both of them, separate and together, have grown so much. It used to be, okay I'll tell you this, Leon, and this, Wei Chong, and that, another; but now I can tell them both everything. Everything, and I'm not even kidding. At first it was difficult for I know topics of certain made them uncomfortable (e.g. re: sex, intense family stuff, etc), and I try not to put them in a tough spot like that because they are already awkward and jaded as it is with others unfamiliar. But each, on separate days and on beer and/or sudden courage, I said what I really wanted to share and from then on, I keep no secrets from them. It's a 2011 improvement and I guess this is what I like most about the friendships of the year.
The above paragraphs are also why I mention them so much in almost everything I say, do, write, breathe. I feel like people think I'm crazy like, why is she talking about [Leon and/or Wei Chong] so much, so many, I don't even know them, are they together, what is this thing they have, she's obsessed. But maybe I am. Maybe I am a little bit too flustered over the people I love. I have come to a point of my years where I think, why shouldn't I mention people who are always omnipresent in my life
other great people who are so noteworthy for the year 2011 are (only mentioned those I'm very sure of):
Alex; I will never forget our conversations of music, movies and the whole world. She is a gem and I love her so so much.
Shaun; if I had a list of my favourite guy friends, he would be a close second in place (first: Leon and Wei Chong in a tie).
Christy; truly my guardian angel, always fawning over my foolishness yet supporting my choices with the same degree of goodness she has in her heart.
Georgina; though I'd not seen her right until the near end of the year. But she is one of those friends who make time apart seem so insignificant, for we will always have lots to talk about and lots to adore about each other.
Miss Yeo; this is the year I really feel we have truly came out of that restraining teacher-student relationship and became genuine close friends. When she said, you always choose the wrong guys, why can't you pick guys more deserving of you; I knew- for she once told me that she does not want to comment on my love life because she felt it very inappropriate for a teacher.
Kamini and Kenneth; my pals since secondary one, people that are good for me and whom I can hold proper conversations with without the pukish recollection of narcissism.
Titus and Wei Jie; guys with each, good sense of humour. Always forgiving, understanding and overall great great people.
And this year I aim to get chummier with old friends, Eugene, Estee, my ex-cos, etc, and not so old friends, Nicholas David Sebastian, who has disappeared into his scary little world at home, Jing Zhi (a crazy, lovely, crazy girl, my other soul-mate I feel), Joanne. Also I miss Sheri and the six of us, and I wish to be better friends with my Leadership groupmates for they are indeed interesting in their own right.
2)
My parents- I have learnt to love them with appropriate or more quantities but never less. Just the other day I surprised myself by preaching to Victor the various reasons why mom, dad, both of them, are great, great human beings who have morphed me into this girl I am now. It was in the morning at eight and my manure of a face was dotted with blobs of Hazeline Snow cream as I got ready to finally go to sleep. He came into the room ever so timely with an arrival announcement of my breakfast (pork rib noodles, yum) and so I went down to eat and watch the news with him with swift plans in mind.
We were talking about issues in our family that were always there but never really discussed, for usually we just cry, scream or ignore, and I asked him: don't you think that mummy and daddy are amazing people? They have taught me to be polite, to be nice to others and their possessions before ourselves and our own, to be forgiving...
In 2011 I realised: they make me feel guilty; in fact I think they taught me the art of that, through their faithful visiting of their parents even if they are unkind or grumpy, my dad giving in to my mom's every wish after one mistake years, years back, and finally, through the sheepish grin they have on their faces when they peer into my room between the ajar door, saying "Sorry I didn't mean it. You know mummy [and/or] daddy loves you" and rush over to squash me into a moment of affection for their angry slaps or shouts before. I don't blame them for subconsciously letting me live my life with so much repentance (though sometimes these days I do tell them and jokingly complain with real frustrating tears) for because of this trait, I think hard before doing anything that would potentially hurt someone, I always feel to revocate my mistakes with all my sincerity, and I spend more time with my parents than I would, without. Because of this, the guilt will finally be gone when they leave for a place I'd join them in soon after, and not stay and haunt like it would to so many others. I can safely say that they know I love them.
But sometimes. Sometimes I feel like I can never be a good enough daughter because they are too perfect.
3)
Music stems my soul. In the year 2011 I was proud of what I listened to and what I didn't, which varies in a weird fashion. The following are some of my favourites at the moment:
/more known albums
19 by Adele
21 by Adele
[anything] by John Mayer
Be OK by Ingrid Michaelson
Zee Avi by Zee Avi
Corinne Bailey Rae by Corinne Bailey Rae
Ceremonials by Florence + The Machine
Rockferry by Duffy
/less known albums
[anything] by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong
[anything] by Norah Jones
Young The Giant by Young the Giant (I LOVE LOVE LOVE their open sessions)
Frank by Amy Winehouse (Stronger Than Me has a fucking awesome jazz introduction)
Until When We Are Ghosts by William Fitzsimmons
The Soul Sessions by Joss Stone
Hello...x by Tristan Prettyman
Bayside Acoustic EP by Bayside
The Art in My Heart by Clara C
Beautiful Seed by Corrinne May
Safe In A Crazy World by Corrinne May
One Cell in the Sea by A Fine Frenzy
The Memphis Album by Guy Sebastian
/more known songs
You've Got The Love by Florence + The Machine
Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine
Do It Like A Dude (acoustic) by Jessie J
Back To Black by Amy Winehouse
You Know I'm No Good by Amy Winehouse
Valerie by Amy Winehouse
Let's Call The Whole Thing Off by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong
Wallflower by Inch Chua
Live High by Jason Mraz
4 & 20 by Joss Stone
Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas by Michael Buble
Quando, Quando, Quando by Michael Buble
Me and Mrs Jones by Michael Buble
Express by Christina Aguilera
Bound to You by Christina Aguilera
The Way I Am by Ingrid Michaelson
I Try by Macy Gray
Gravity by Sara Bareilles
/less known songs
That Western Skyline by Dawes
Paris Nights/New York Mornings by Corinne Bailey Rae
New Romantic by Laura Marling
Humble Me by Norah Jones
My Dear Machine by Sixpence None The Richer
Shy That Way by Tristan Prettyman and Jason Mraz
You Still Hurt Me by William Fitzsimmons
Near To You by Nathan Hartono
Gravity by Sara Bareilles
There Is So Much More To This by Nathan Hartono
They Can't Take That Away From Me by Jane Monheit and John Pizzarelli
Love Songs by Anjulie
Hurt by Inch Chua
Song To Barbie by Bevelyn Khoo (pronunciation could improve)
Paul by Zsa and Claire
La Vie En Rose by Aoi Teshima
Late Night Request by The Great Spy Experiment
Mad About You by Hooverphonic
Quiet Nights And Quiet Stars by Olivia Ong
Runaway by Electrico
Sophia by Nerina Pallot
When You Call My Name by Dawes
Fall Again by Glenn Lewis
Some Kind of Wonderful by Joss Stone
*sorry for the disorganization. I type as I recall.
Reviewing my incomplete list now, I realise that my music taste is more eclectic than jazzy like I'd always thought it was, and it is quite mainstream. Also I know this myself already but I feel to say: I yearn to download full albums or better yet, discographies. If I like one, two songs out of six, seven, more, it's not enough and therefore not worth it. Nowadays I try to trash freshly downloaded albums I can't get into, like Sigh No More by Mumford and Sons and to-be Death Cab albums. If I don't adore it, I really don't. I've learnt not to force myself, quoting Wei Chong, not to conform to the social norm.
After this I'm going to check out Ida Maria. The Band of the Day application for iPhones has really exposed me to a lot of truly indie artistes whom little know about, and they are really really just sublime. I find myself dedicating notes and notes to remembering Gaby Moreno, Ntjam Rosie, etc, so that I can get right home and get their discographies. I like them more when others don't but because they are so unknown I can't download their music online at all.
Despite thinking that Sufjan Stevens is a good musician I can't appreciate his music. His songs make me feel very sadistic, like those of The Beatles.
I don't feel like I have anything else to say about 2011. I was in a relationship for a good portion of it and when I recall I accept that I have wasted my time in a way, but without it, I don't think I would grow to be a better person, so I will still say, thank you Kelvin, for all that I am and all that I am not, and vice-versa. If you ever see this, I honestly hope for your settling of inner peace with your new muse. And I miss your family.
Also, I have given up on thinking I can forget. Let nature take its (fucking) course, they tell me.
It is decided that I shall no longer reflect on the Christmas party as it was such a long time back now and I feel like it is a void or an impediment in my frequent blogging. Yet I will say that I had a charming evening and the day before (spent time with Wei Chong shopping, baking and having dinner with his mom, brother at his place), so much so that every time I cower up into deeming old friendships as nothing but obligation, I can revive this night with the visuals of physical and my memory, and know otherwise.
Here are some of the said photos:
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The last photo: that was when most left and Miss Yeo finally drove over to talk for ages. I really love that part of the night/dawn. She left at two~ a.m. with a seventy-dollar parking fine.
This is a very dreary post to compose but when I read through the completion I felt happy, like it is seriously a sludge out of the way and "I can move on to create more useful insight". So far this year I've completed three books- Super Sad True Love Story (finally. It was a good read but I don't want to review), Can You Keep a Secret? (I love this), and Richard Yates by Tao Lin (which I hated so so so much). Not too good but much more productive than last year. Today, too, is the seventh of February. Just thought of it and thought it funny.
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