orchard road a matchstick box, and we the matchstick people.
jostling in the crowd.
‘wahlau who pushed me’ --
--‘bitch!’ --
‘make way and move leh’ --
-- ‘oi! **** lah’
a treetrunk couple lodged in the middle of a human stream
strange how ugly faces swim to the surface in this xmas sea.
xmas eve party was a bit disappointing… quite empty, even phuture had space enough to move around quite freely.
seemin challenged me to get a girl and her number.
somehow… clubbing is more exciting by yourself, but more enjoyable when with friends. When dancing without ppl u know around it feels more liberating, like there’s no one you know and judges you and remembers if you try to chat someone up or dance with someone… more unrestricted somehow. I guess that’s what peer pressure feels like, to accomplish conformist and conventional non-feats, and do utterly important, normal things. And the thing is, we all bend so efficiently and stupidly to societal pressure, so arent we all oxymorons…
I haven't found a way out.
I guess we all need at least some element of conformity to survive.
by the time we left at five I passed her test four times and gotten one number. But looking back I just feel ashamed. That all I had in mind at that time, at most of that entire four-hour-spanning-moment which I felt encompassed the challenge, was to ‘get a girl’. It was fun, yes, quite enjoyable from a normal perspective to dance with someone, but what feels disgusting now is the fact that I felt so impelled to obey, to gain approval, to pass her ‘test’ and not lose face in front of sees and waiyin…
no artificial ingredients or sugar. comes with all-natural fibres. 100 % peer pressure juice.
I wont have it again.
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Thursday, December 23, 2004
life lesions
Faced with a blank page the utter absolution of emptiness and numbing black of a mind drawn wiped with a window shutter and pulled across the blinds of the day. Clean like the bowels of a blue sky.
Quote of the day: ‘Nothing succeeds like success.’ – Alexandre Dumas
I’ve never known a more thought-inspiring quote.
Reading it, my mind was flooded with thoughts, like:
a) ‘what?’
b) ‘huh?’
c) ‘this guy is a moron’
d) ‘does that mean nothing exceeds like excess?’ and
e) ‘how many seeds can a seedsucker suck if a seedsucker can suck seeds?’
bought this lil box of quotable quote cards which is very nice. after fruitlessly searching with wai for more gifts under a super-tight budget. So this quote was one of the more ‘inspirational’ ones I guess...
anyway one of the nicer ones is this:
‘It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best at the end knows the triumph of achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.’
-- Theodore Roosevelt
and reading it I felt like, yeah that’s so true, and everything I’d ever tried doing or accomplished came back to me in bits and pieces… ‘uh-oh self-evaluation time’ said this lil voice in my head…
but anyway was just thinking that person needs to know what its like at the bottom, to be able to comprehend fully what it means to be like at the top, that without knowing defeat the privilege of victory really becomes a superficial experience. Losing once breaks your heart. Losing a few times gives you determination. Losing so many times is like a cleansing; it reminds you of who you are and your place in the world, all delusions of your self-importance or ability is stripped clear, and a kind of resilience settles in to keep you competing. But above all, losing teaches you that wining is really just the icing. I guess the quote just reminded me that I owe a lot of who I’ve become to track and my coaches and training buddies.
There really is nothing that one cannot do, as long as one wants to try, and not give up.
Quote of the day: ‘Nothing succeeds like success.’ – Alexandre Dumas
I’ve never known a more thought-inspiring quote.
Reading it, my mind was flooded with thoughts, like:
a) ‘what?’
b) ‘huh?’
c) ‘this guy is a moron’
d) ‘does that mean nothing exceeds like excess?’ and
e) ‘how many seeds can a seedsucker suck if a seedsucker can suck seeds?’
bought this lil box of quotable quote cards which is very nice. after fruitlessly searching with wai for more gifts under a super-tight budget. So this quote was one of the more ‘inspirational’ ones I guess...
anyway one of the nicer ones is this:
‘It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best at the end knows the triumph of achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.’
-- Theodore Roosevelt
and reading it I felt like, yeah that’s so true, and everything I’d ever tried doing or accomplished came back to me in bits and pieces… ‘uh-oh self-evaluation time’ said this lil voice in my head…
but anyway was just thinking that person needs to know what its like at the bottom, to be able to comprehend fully what it means to be like at the top, that without knowing defeat the privilege of victory really becomes a superficial experience. Losing once breaks your heart. Losing a few times gives you determination. Losing so many times is like a cleansing; it reminds you of who you are and your place in the world, all delusions of your self-importance or ability is stripped clear, and a kind of resilience settles in to keep you competing. But above all, losing teaches you that wining is really just the icing. I guess the quote just reminded me that I owe a lot of who I’ve become to track and my coaches and training buddies.
There really is nothing that one cannot do, as long as one wants to try, and not give up.
Monday, December 20, 2004
fingers with liqour finishes
Today I saw a guy with painted nails at the counter at giant. Eeeew so gross! But he was holding a conversation with the cashier at the next counter and he sounded guy enough. So he should be straight right? But why would a guy paint his nails (dark blue they were), its not as if he’s still 16 and experimenting! Mebbe he just likes dark blue nails. Or he thinks painted nails are very pretty. Or he is extremely extremely comfortable with his sexuality. Still….. it is super freaky. Eeeek.
Slept early last night. Felt so tired after the day before. Wah the bhangra was great and met chester (for a little while. he seemed very frightened of talking to me haha). Jasbir was great too. But the place was so boring! My gosh there was zero atmosphere! Which prob explains why there were so few ppl. Or mebbe the other way around hmmm. So was kinda wondering all the time why anyone would even choose to perform there. Bleargh.
Too tired to go out now. Running out of monies anyway.
Oh chihuahuas haven't bought all my prezzies yet. Argh.
Slept early last night. Felt so tired after the day before. Wah the bhangra was great and met chester (for a little while. he seemed very frightened of talking to me haha). Jasbir was great too. But the place was so boring! My gosh there was zero atmosphere! Which prob explains why there were so few ppl. Or mebbe the other way around hmmm. So was kinda wondering all the time why anyone would even choose to perform there. Bleargh.
Too tired to go out now. Running out of monies anyway.
Oh chihuahuas haven't bought all my prezzies yet. Argh.
Sunday, December 19, 2004
lets try this one more time
-Exercise one
Picture a pattern of trees, stark and black against an ashen sky. Their branches are etched sharp against the drab neutrality. Their pattern is fixed and will not change. The gray has no quality, not even the vibrancy of sight behind closed eyes. More than winter, this is certainty; the image found in the eyes of a dead man. Now ask: do you want peace and quiet?
-Exercise two
There is a field of grain, each stalk perfect, which is a field of men. There is that which is perfect in all men, common to all, and to find that thing and touch it is to transform all men. Now ask: is perfection certainty, and are we only perfect when we are dead?
-Exercise three
A plain of sand, and our footprints trail behind us, like the intertwining paths of serpents– the stories of our lives. Faces of those forgotten and buried in the sand share space with those closest to us; the serpents raise their heads around our feet, and bite our heels. The greatest taint of all is the taint left by history on your own soul. Now ask; how can you love, if you see with scarred eyes?
No pain, no gain. World’s a rough. We torment each other. Like acid in a tight metal groove; we etch. Hope?
Picture a pattern of trees, stark and black against an ashen sky. Their branches are etched sharp against the drab neutrality. Their pattern is fixed and will not change. The gray has no quality, not even the vibrancy of sight behind closed eyes. More than winter, this is certainty; the image found in the eyes of a dead man. Now ask: do you want peace and quiet?
-Exercise two
There is a field of grain, each stalk perfect, which is a field of men. There is that which is perfect in all men, common to all, and to find that thing and touch it is to transform all men. Now ask: is perfection certainty, and are we only perfect when we are dead?
-Exercise three
A plain of sand, and our footprints trail behind us, like the intertwining paths of serpents– the stories of our lives. Faces of those forgotten and buried in the sand share space with those closest to us; the serpents raise their heads around our feet, and bite our heels. The greatest taint of all is the taint left by history on your own soul. Now ask; how can you love, if you see with scarred eyes?
No pain, no gain. World’s a rough. We torment each other. Like acid in a tight metal groove; we etch. Hope?
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