superficiality

I think I should be cutting my hair soon. Get it balanced out or something cause now it's just... a strange mess. 

It just hit me today that I've had this sidecut thing for almost a year. I first shaved it off around october last year after I was inspired by Ayla Brunhilde, who was this lookbook girl back when lookbook was still interesting and whose blog was extremely well-written. I only shaved off a small portion then but I remember how liberating it felt. It feels good to be held down by one less thing, you know?

But I think that after a year, head-shaving has finally lost its thrill. Maybe that's just because I keep getting a sidecut with a pixie-ish thing on the other side. I tried getting leopard spots once, but they gave me stripes instead because they didn't have the proper clippers for it. Perhaps I'll do that for prom, eh? Last shave before the new year and then I'll grow it out and do something more normal with it. I haven't had long hair for a long time. My hair was grown past my shoulders in primary six but I barely cared for it since I wore a scarf most of the time. Hm. Perhaps I'll just grow it really long until it's hip-length and then I can be the stereotypical manifestation of a '70s pot-smoking hippie.

I visited my mother at the hospital today. We didn't have much to say to each other.

The National - Mistaken For Strangers

They are coming for a rescheduled show in November but I'll be doing my Os then :(

fast times

I have a really emo post about my mother in my drafts that I fell asleep writing a few nights ago. But since my weekend has been a really nice weekend, I shall save the sadness for later. 

On friday, tkgs had its annual cross country/ zany parade at bedok reservoir. I didn't bother rushing for it and I reached about an hour late, getting lost along the way because I walked in the wrong direction after getting off the bus. A man on a bike offered to take me there but a lady who was jogging insisted I go with her instead. Zany parade wasn't much but it was nice just having a day off from studying. Cut the queue at the milo van and had like 6 cups of milo at one go, sat around watching other girls, walked around, watched people some more, and then we had prize presentation early because it was going to rain. The wind picked up just as that ended. It was quite pretty. The rest of the morning had been bright, hot and cloudless but at once the skies turned grey and the winds rained leaves on our faces. It looked a bit apocalyptic, though, but it was exciting.

We were told to rush to the tiny shelter nearby but obviously it could not protect all one thousand and three hundred screaming girls from the storm. The rain first came down as tiny darts that stung the back of my calves as we hurried away, and coalesced quickly into large raindrops that chilled the day's warmth from my body. I found my friends in all the frenzy and we decided to just head for the bus stop. We were soaked to the skin once we got there but we were laughing and happy and it felt good. The bus stop was crowded as well and we had to huddle under umbrellas. Then there was rain dancing and rain hugs and just a lot of excitement because we've never really embraced the rain like that, you know? That being said, there was also a lot of worrying about whether our phones were alright or if our spare clothes would be drenched as well and wondering what to do about soaked underwear. We got onto a bus headed for tampines after a while, leaving puddles of rain water that flowed from our clothes and skin. It was incredibly cold and uncomfortable, but I liked it.

The rest of the day was a blur of shivering like crazy, blue lips, walking around in wet clothes, buying disposable panties cause we were too uncomfortable, lunch at popeye's, looking at people who were nice to look at, trying to warm up and getting dizzy at the open plaza at tampines mall, stealing forgotten sunflowers and harry potter for the second time.

Yesterday I watched Interview with the Vampire. I read the novel by Anne Rice when I was 12. My dad was an Anne Rice fan and our bookshelves were crammed with her classic horror stories. But her language was complex and not as easily-comprehended as a 12 year old would have liked so I must read it once more.

no i do not cry while i sleep

Today I went to a grand-aunt's funeral. It was sad and beautiful at once. The solemn faces staring at floors, the low buzz of prayers recited under breaths, the barely contained grief in the spasmodic sobs of the loving daughter... It was an unfamiliar atmosphere to sink into. My mama never taught me what to do at a funeral and so I was slightly unsure as I tried to keep up with prayers and rituals.

Today I also saw a boy of whose existence I was previously unaware. He was there to mourn the passing of his grandmother. He was sad and there were tears and loss and deep love in his eyes as he kissed his grandmother's cold forehead for the last time. He was beautiful. It was all so beautiful. Surprisingly it wasn't tragic. It was sad but there was peace and light and you knew, you could feel she was finally granted eternal rest.

The boy, name unasked, was handsome in white cotton and a songkok and the ache of mourning in his bones and I could do nothing to keep my gaze off him. I wanted to follow him around and ingrain his face on film. I almost relished his pain. He was beautiful but I suppose there must be blood ties between us.

Tonight I am listening to a bunch of local instrumental/shoegaze bands. There is so much soul in music that sometimes it plucks me out of my constant detachment to everything and I am alive and feeling and feeling so much it is quite delicious. I must learn to play an instrument one day. I am quite drawn to the harp because it is so wonderfully dreamy and soft and I can pretend to be a sprite playing music for the trees and the birds and the spiders and the centipedes at daybreak or at twilight or at the witching hour when long haired angels spread their wings and laugh in delight in mocking of those bound to the ground.

Listen to some I Am David Sparkle. They are almost healing.

Nekkid

faces from a recent painting session

telling tellers tell me

HIPSTER GLASSES ARE HIPSTER.

Hahaha sigh new glasses have been collected. I miss my Edna Mode ones! They were fun. But at least this pair only cost me 50 dollars. Figured I lose my glasses too fucking often to invest in anything more than that. I'm thinking of getting clear plastic frames the next time round, like Pascal Grob's. Have yet to find a pair like that anywhere though.

Today was an extremely hot day. I don't like hot days. The heat just kind of builds up a lot of hatred in me it's quite scary. Today I was late for school. I don't like being late. Tomorrow I cannot be late 'cause. Today the vice principal noticed that my hair had grown out when she came in for target setting. I don't really like the vice principal. Today I have a lot of homework. I.. don't... like... homework. . . .

But tomorrow! Tomorrow shall be a good day. Watching the final Harry Potter film with friends after school. I might cry. Daniel Radcliffe was my first crush. I think I was only seven? I loved him all through primary school. He grew a little less attractive after that ha ha ha. My appreciation for the story as a whole has never changed, though. I can't believe it's going to be over! :(

This is Portugal. The Man blessing you with a beautiful song called Colors. It's from my favourite album of theirs: Censored Colors. I have been listening to this band since I was thirteen and I am so.. happy that their new album In the Mountain in the Cloud is coming out in five days. Sleep Forever's music video is lo ve ly.

intermission

Marking my calenders.

SAM Home Movies
5th August: Walden - Diaries, Notes and Sketches
12th August: Mother & Tarnation
19th August: Bare & I for India
2nd September: Oxhide
9th September: Oxhide II

23rd August: Comme Une Image @ Alliance Francaise Theatre
18th October: Betty @ Alliance Francaise Theatre
27th September: Les Chortistes @ Alliance Francaise Theatre

19th - 21st August: Baybeats '11

6th November: The National

Singapore actually has quite a bit to offer, doesn't it?



The Flaming Lips for you.

Currently waiting for my grandfather to bring home dinner. It's ten!

lashes to count

Hello, this is my face a lot of the time because my eyes are always so tired + am getting blinder by the day. Please don't take offense if I glance at you with this expression. Chances are I couldn't even register your face to decide to give you this look. Anyway, my new glasses are going to be ready for picking up by tomorrow or Thursday. My facial muscles look forward to less squinting!

I need to start paying back my one week ++ of last year's fasting pronto. Shall start on Thursday because my uterus, if it had a mind, would be extremely fickle-minded. Hmm I am actually kind of happy about Ramadhan coming around. I've never really enjoyed Raya season, but I do like how fasting makes me feel, both physically and emotionally.

You know, despite having spent my six years of primary school in a madrasah (i.e. Muslim school) I've always had issues with accepting religion. Always questioned the whole 'refrain from questioning' thing. Maybe trying to teach a child the complexities of religion was also not the best idea. Lately, though, I have started to practice it more. I don't know. I see prayer as a form of.. meditation, self-reflection and thanksgiving. A little time to yourself to sort out your thoughts, be grateful to the positive in life and relax a bit. I think religion is a lot of inner-peace-keeping, really.

Practicing my religion makes me feel better. Not in comparison to others who do not, but because personally, there are times when reassuarance that perhaps there is a mystic referee who will listen to me should I need an outlet for my frustrations, and will do something to help me along, is quite a welcome idea.

Sometimes, though, other things that I have read and learned about influence my views. There was a point where I was a fervent believer of the law of attraction, and I thought that prayers, like when you ask god for something, worked very much according to said law. I also tend to lean towards a more scientific explanation for the universe at times. Things like the overzealous who put down other beliefs and are convinced that non-believers of their religion are doomed to an eternity of unimaginable hell, are also immediate turn offs for the whole idea of religion. Despite being a means of attaining inner peace, you have to admit that religion does have its way of dividing and causing conflict among people. Although of course that is a given because differences in general tend to do that.

I see religions as a guide to life. There is a lot of morals, goodness, kindness involved in their suggestions on how you should lead your life. I think that is a good thing. I also think that I am still young and figuring all this out slowly. My views will probably change as I grow.

Here is Flume by the soulful sorrowful Bon Iver.

so he said

You were the rot that set
in at the bottom of my soul
The last dregs in my tea cup which
caught on the back of my throat
because I still wanted you
I drank you up like you were good
for me but of course you weren't
broke me slowly and bruised me where I was already bruised
Gentle hands pretend to sooth, secret satisfaction in their eyes
They knew you would, told me you would

---------------------

Have taken to writing shitty little poems that rhyme and don't. Hahaha sorry am just passing my time and testing the waters. Seems a little too cold for a swim, I'd think. Sigh, I can't wait to be done with Os. Speaking of, you know why it's called O Levels? It's because this whole examination thing is a hole, like a gigantic black hole, sucking everything - your time your energy your passion - everything! into it. And as it does so, you get more and more worn out as you desperately try to grasp at whatever you have, only to feel it all slipping away between your fingers......... and this big black O only looms bigger and bigger and bigger until it finally consumes your whole vision and mind and sucks that in as well. I can only console myself with reminders that it'll only be four more months, four more months and then I am f r e e.

Sometimes I get really lost in my head because I don't know what I should do. School is saying to study eighteen fucking hours a day, use all those little pockets of time wisely and shit. I wish I would do that. I know effort is important. I want to do well, get less than ten points, six if somehow God allows it so, but I have barely any intention of going to a junior college. What I want, am convinced I want, is to go to art school. Laselle. Perhaps NAFA even though I hate their school logo crest thing with a passion. And what is scaring me so is that so much of my time has been forced into doing school work and revision and being unhappy at this O Levels stench hanging over my head, that I am not really at liberty to be sitting down and doing art.

What do I do now, if I need to be building on my skills and practicing and coming up with a portfolio to impress the judges at the entry interview? I wouldn't say I am that good an artist, but I want to be better. I want to learn art in a class, have all my education revolve around it, finally be so excited at the things I am taught and bid farewell to the sandman who sits under my desk in school now. I want to be passionate about my learning. I want to feel the wonder and gratitude as a teacher enlightens me with knowledge I am glad to be given the opportunity to receive. I want to struggle and feel pressurised to do my best in something I love. I don't want to look back on my teenage years, which are inevitably consumed by learning, with distaste. I want it all to be worthwhile. Please, just let this all be worthwhile.



Local Natives' Sun Hands. If you have the time, watch this as well: http://youtu.be/6hhE_sqJG3g. It is their Take Away Show in France for La Blogotheque, which films the most beautiful acoustic performances by the most beautiful musicians ever.

On a real life note, I am going to get new glasses tomorrow. My mother threw my Edna Mode pair away by accident last week.

Hey Moon,

O wow I've neglected this space for almost two weeks. Let me just get this off my chest real quick: school has been terrible. We are all hard-pressed for time and energy and it is quite discouraging. Every single day is exhausting draining mentally incapacitating. I've been running on an average of three hours of sleep every night the past week and sometimes I am too tired to even eat. Today, for example, I had milo at recess and then cup noodles and ice cream after NP at around 6. I think that was dinner. I have never felt so unhealthy!

You know, I hate how our era has kind of glorified eating disorders. So many people around me have begun to starve themselves, or at least look up to those who do. And while I am uncomfortable with this sickness, I know it isn't easy to be at war with your very own body, to feel betrayed by the physical materialisation of you. I went through a mild phase of it in primary six/secondary one. I had a lot of breakdowns because of how fat I thought I was. Intellectually, I was aware that I wasn't actually fat. I wasn't blessed with long slender limbs either, but I was acceptable and should have been fine had my self-esteem been a little healthier.

My grandmother desperately wanted to put on weight as a skinny teenager in the 50s. She drank protein shakes and weight-gaining formulas, while the girls of 2011 drink laxatives and force vomit half-digested food. I think it is all a lot of hype and pop culture and just our fucked up generation's fucked up idea of beauty. It's pretty fucking destructive. But then again everyone is broken or fancies themselves broken on the inside and we think we identify with destruction of the soul so it is almost romantic now, the concept of someone being tortured by and torturing themselves for beauty (although beauty shouldn't have to fit into a size zero definition box anyway).

I don't think Panic at the Disco meant this line literally but because it is extremely relevant... As She's a Handsome Woman goes, "I wasn't born to be a skeleton".

And because I have been reminiscing my 2007-2009 Panic at the Disco obsession, here is one of their songs off Pretty. Odd. which is my favourite of the two albums they released when they were still Ryan, Brendon, Jon and Spencer.



Also, happy birthday to my beautiful friend Syadza <3