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giving in to...
Jul. 15th, 2006 12:18 amToday (I think it was today, or was it yesterday... my memory is failing me), before hiding from Mrs Tan (Jek Suan's wife), Wen Seng walked past me and said loudly "I am going to pee."
Yes, thank you for sharing with me that piece of valuable information, 'Seng. ;p Don't pin your shirt to your pants if not pee-ing will be extremely difficult for you, y'know? Haha!
I like reading Rachel (Koh)'s and Esther's blogs. There is a sort of poetic, literary quality about it - even if they might claim incoherence and it being 'lousy'. I appreciate it much more than what I write - speech-thought. I write like how I speak, perhaps because I do not speak much and when I do, I sound like I'm being stuck in a space - no one can hear me scream. I envy, no admire the way they can pick up quotes from the air just like catching the small fluff balls of dandelions as they float by. I revel in their ability to weave, seamlessly, their thoughts to evoke feelings in me.
These feelings, are like looking through tinted glass. I'mtrapped stuck in an interrogation room with a surly police officer trying to get me to cough out whatever confessions I hold within me. But I hold nothing, I swear! He's banging his fist on the table, his right fist, the left gripping over a cup of steaming hot coffee. Decaf. I wonder if the brown liquid will spill over and scald his thick, sausage-like fingers. Sausages. I'm hungry. I have a sudden craving for bratwurst.
And beyond, I notice but try to ignore the proverbial blank and black glass barrier. I know there are people watching from behind, waiting for me to slip-up, analyzing my every move, every word, every breath, every inch that my hair moves. It's all collateral that can be used against me. In this case, they think that it's to be used for me. I wonder, if I walk right up to that empty blackness or black emptiness, and press my face up against the cold glass, will they laugh? Will that police officer stride right up to me and pull me back down to my seat, yelling indiscriminate words as his forearm spade digs up the coffee mug and clumsily shatters it onto the floor.
I sit. And wait. My mind is wandering elsewhere. Is this the ending fit for a criminal, a vagabond, a do ungooder like me? I have been convicted - of what!? I jerk up in my seat as I realize the incongruity of it all. I am held hostage by my own ignorance, of my own accord.
"Why am I here." It is a statement, more than a question. I do not offer them a chance to reply, I demand it. I implore them to do so.
Said officer raises his eyebrows. Convicted of the murder of LIQUID, he says. To the third degree. What third degree. I feel myself boil over and then condense into a cloud of efferversence. I do not care about LIQUID no longer. I do not give a damn to whether I am guilty or not. LIQUID is dead. By whose hand, mine or his or even yours - I do not care. I think I do not care.
But I do care where this story goes. I have decided to use that whole chunk of that in my untitled short story. Giving into the moment, giving into time. That felt good. Nearly released nearly relieved. I love writing.
We watched POTC and did silly things after the movie, like me trying to kiss the huge cardboard standee of Captain Jack Sparrow but ending up laughing too much and just giving the said cardboard a good hard glomp. POTC 2 was, mighty entertaining. I don't want to comment on it critically - whether it was good or bad or horrific. I enjoyed it, it made me happy, shocked, sad, despair - all the things a good movie should do. Evoke feelings. While Sparrow didn't get as much screen-time, I relished every moment he was in the frames. It takes a sort of wit, to play the fool as some certain Viola once said. I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES JACK SPARROW. <3<3<3
Which reminds me!!! Fahy did a mean impression of Fagin (Oliver Twist) AND Captain Jack Sparrow (sorry, the movie has intoned it so much into me that I must call him as "Captain Jack Sparrow" or perish). Fahy! As Sparrow! I nearly died in my seat. The Pirate of CJC, eh? Can I be the first mate then?
Today's History tutorial was perhaps one of the best in the year. We managed to tackle one question only (with ahahha Alex giving Ms Koh's baby indigestion halfway through "I FEEL MY BABY MOVING!!!!"), but I'm just relieved and glad that I kicked ass because I actually understood the question without much questions? I mean, usually I have my doubts but today was just :D.
yo ho ho and a bottle of rum...
Yes, thank you for sharing with me that piece of valuable information, 'Seng. ;p Don't pin your shirt to your pants if not pee-ing will be extremely difficult for you, y'know? Haha!
I like reading Rachel (Koh)'s and Esther's blogs. There is a sort of poetic, literary quality about it - even if they might claim incoherence and it being 'lousy'. I appreciate it much more than what I write - speech-thought. I write like how I speak, perhaps because I do not speak much and when I do, I sound like I'm being stuck in a space - no one can hear me scream. I envy, no admire the way they can pick up quotes from the air just like catching the small fluff balls of dandelions as they float by. I revel in their ability to weave, seamlessly, their thoughts to evoke feelings in me.
These feelings, are like looking through tinted glass. I'm
And beyond, I notice but try to ignore the proverbial blank and black glass barrier. I know there are people watching from behind, waiting for me to slip-up, analyzing my every move, every word, every breath, every inch that my hair moves. It's all collateral that can be used against me. In this case, they think that it's to be used for me. I wonder, if I walk right up to that empty blackness or black emptiness, and press my face up against the cold glass, will they laugh? Will that police officer stride right up to me and pull me back down to my seat, yelling indiscriminate words as his forearm spade digs up the coffee mug and clumsily shatters it onto the floor.
I sit. And wait. My mind is wandering elsewhere. Is this the ending fit for a criminal, a vagabond, a do ungooder like me? I have been convicted - of what!? I jerk up in my seat as I realize the incongruity of it all. I am held hostage by my own ignorance, of my own accord.
"Why am I here." It is a statement, more than a question. I do not offer them a chance to reply, I demand it. I implore them to do so.
Said officer raises his eyebrows. Convicted of the murder of LIQUID, he says. To the third degree. What third degree. I feel myself boil over and then condense into a cloud of efferversence. I do not care about LIQUID no longer. I do not give a damn to whether I am guilty or not. LIQUID is dead. By whose hand, mine or his or even yours - I do not care. I think I do not care.
But I do care where this story goes. I have decided to use that whole chunk of that in my untitled short story. Giving into the moment, giving into time. That felt good. Nearly released nearly relieved. I love writing.
We watched POTC and did silly things after the movie, like me trying to kiss the huge cardboard standee of Captain Jack Sparrow but ending up laughing too much and just giving the said cardboard a good hard glomp. POTC 2 was, mighty entertaining. I don't want to comment on it critically - whether it was good or bad or horrific. I enjoyed it, it made me happy, shocked, sad, despair - all the things a good movie should do. Evoke feelings. While Sparrow didn't get as much screen-time, I relished every moment he was in the frames. It takes a sort of wit, to play the fool as some certain Viola once said. I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES JACK SPARROW. <3<3<3
Which reminds me!!! Fahy did a mean impression of Fagin (Oliver Twist) AND Captain Jack Sparrow (sorry, the movie has intoned it so much into me that I must call him as "Captain Jack Sparrow" or perish). Fahy! As Sparrow! I nearly died in my seat. The Pirate of CJC, eh? Can I be the first mate then?
Today's History tutorial was perhaps one of the best in the year. We managed to tackle one question only (with ahahha Alex giving Ms Koh's baby indigestion halfway through "I FEEL MY BABY MOVING!!!!"), but I'm just relieved and glad that I kicked ass because I actually understood the question without much questions? I mean, usually I have my doubts but today was just :D.
yo ho ho and a bottle of rum...
