hoo cootoo
THE URGE TO WRITE IRRELEVENCE GROWS STRONG, BELIEVE YOU ME.(but I must resist for the sake of ...oh crap. any help here?)
The blockhead tests, at least. And my staying in SAJ.
Meanwhile, I do occasionally post on my lj of same address, mainly because it's easier. ]
Taaa.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Stripes! Mary holy Martha Stewart's prison collection! I've got three words for you Miss Thing, no, no, no, and four words, yesterday!
My teachers have been singing greek choruses of the tragedy that is my writing style.
...alright, drama aside, they all complain that my long-windedness undermines my expression of ideas.And I'm concerned because this applies to all my writing. If I ever want become a renowned (hahah!) ghostwriter, I've gotta be more ...terse. Brevity is the soul of writ, and all that jazz.
HOKAI. (world's not gonna end)A sentence a day (almost) to sum it all up. Less than three lines. If I miss any days, I make them up. Prepare to have your Friends pages flooded because I'll be doing it on my LJ. Hurr.
Friday, February 16, 2007
They say it like it's, "Thks Fr Th Mammaries"!
I say no, thank you. :p
Warning! Emo incoherence. HEY WAIT. That's every post. 2x :p
You know what pains me the most, the knowledge that I can't be there for people I care about in their deepest and darkest, that though I want to stand by them and help, I somehow don't or can't or just don't see it because I'm too stupid, or end up falling asleep on them on the phone. And then they come through it, and there's that painful distance, that dichotomy of information, that I wasn't there at their sharing of self, and I missed the memo, and that extra splinter distances people.
Is distance beauty? Maybe, but some people get tired of the aesthetic experience after ODing on it. Raw, politically incorrect, no-holds-barred, meanness, realness. Within reason of course, in order to avoid ugliness and petty backstabbing.. but then again, that's controlled rawness, and not raw anymore. Oh, what the fuck. I just like the idea of wildness because I'm tired of social niceties. Though they may have reason, social contracts are printed on sandpaper that wears the soul past due dates.
Collect my fines, lovelies. Steal my books back from me and read
between my lines. It's okay.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
When I Say Shotgun, You Say Wedding
With this post, my new blog would have officially caught up with my old blog, theidfunk. A milestone by more means than just counting the number of posts I have, it sort of measures or marks ...a period, several phrases, and thousands of seconds spent crapping and epiphany-ing. It feels like we sit on the cusp of change, whether the plates have shifted or not in negligable, but in just sitting we, okay well, I, realise just how goddamned far I've come. And somehow, through my wandering and fumbling with life as of now, through the little failures and peaks that daily life dishes, I feel ...proud. I don't feel like I've achieved anything significant except existence, however significant that might be (or not). Somehow time agrees with me, for now at least.
Rawr.
You'd ask what exactly is the difference between now and then, besides the obvious time gap.
Okay, events, obviously. Writing-wise? Drama? Being an official slave to the K? (not bloody likely) Affirmation from the relationships I break and make and cultivate? ...Grades? Getting over people I haven't seen in a year and their consequent lack of contact, or a certain realisation of self that might or might not be a consequence of the above mentioned factors?
Mebbeh. I think it is the intangibility of my turning point that's what keeps my little epiphanic tirade going, in search of point to make, but really, just a farce of an argument. Isn't that what waxing lyrically or not-so-lyrically is; build-ups to climaxes that will never come?
Ahah. I wish that through all this, I somehow could cure myself of my faux or not-so-faux afflictions. How do you combat insecurity if all self-conviction seems to be lost?
The Pickle King was a simple, sweet, fabulous comedy. The transition of the emotions could've been better, especially for Sasha, but I loved the symbolism and the magical realism of it all. And the dancing. And the lines. Okay I'll shut up now. Lazy to write a review. Yes, kick me if you see me in school. Amanchi, give me your brinjals!
Sunday, February 11, 2007
HEHEHEH. See that Malaysian flag in the middle? Adorable. When it was first loading, I thought they were playing the Brokeback Mountain guitar-isque theme song. Brokeback Cubicle. NOW THAT'S AN IDEA.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
my blog is so not interesting and it bothers me. somewhat.
One thing.
Independent study is facing your waterloo.
You look yourself in the face like you haven't done in ages, and you say:
HOKAI, Rakky. This is one motherfather that has proven Tough To Beat. So WHADDYAGONNADOABOUTIT.
And there's no distraction, no dependence (much), no half-hearted getting through it that can save you.
The slacker's dilemma.
For strength, I pray. Because there's no other "lean-on-me,-brother" like one who might not be there, but because you'd like to think so, he exists.
While religion might be the sigh of the oppressed, music is the reverberating echo of the stuff crushed underneath. All while listening to a blues song whose intro reminds me of the magic school bus theme song.
Independent study is facing your waterloo.
You look yourself in the face like you haven't done in ages, and you say:
HOKAI, Rakky. This is one motherfather that has proven Tough To Beat. So WHADDYAGONNADOABOUTIT.
And there's no distraction, no dependence (much), no half-hearted getting through it that can save you.
The slacker's dilemma.
For strength, I pray. Because there's no other "lean-on-me,-brother" like one who might not be there, but because you'd like to think so, he exists.
While religion might be the sigh of the oppressed, music is the reverberating echo of the stuff crushed underneath. All while listening to a blues song whose intro reminds me of the magic school bus theme song.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Indie Study Hurhur
PACMEN'S CATCHING UP WITH IDFUNK!
Hurr. Sorry. New blog versus dead blog. Well. Deader than this one anyway. *beauty qveen smile a la the leonger*
HALLRIGHTY. Since I've been ...preoccupied, and have almost left you all for dead, I, speaking from gratituous guilt, will gumptiously gratify you good people with a grand new layout! Hooray.
It will come up soon. Really. Reallly, I'm telling you.
Anyway. Life has been... alright. The highs of friends balanced out like checkbooks of love, or otherwise. Been partially ill, high on throat medication (mmmm), bhangra-ed at my sister's Terribly Bolly Bhangra Birthday Bash (don't you just want to keel over from the alliteration), been worried sick about my I/S, had bursts of ideas for projects that I would SO love to do (and prolly will in my time la procrastinatia)...
I watched Thank You For Smoking on Saturday, while cooped up at home and lying to myself that I was a sick sick dog who couldn't finish her KI I/S in the state that she was in. Heheh. What an kick-ass movie. I shall write about it in detail in my next post. (Ah, incentive!) I have to go now.
I leave you with a quote from Rabindranath Tagore:
Hurr. Sorry. New blog versus dead blog. Well. Deader than this one anyway. *beauty qveen smile a la the leonger*
HALLRIGHTY. Since I've been ...preoccupied, and have almost left you all for dead, I, speaking from gratituous guilt, will gumptiously gratify you good people with a grand new layout! Hooray.
It will come up soon. Really. Reallly, I'm telling you.
Anyway. Life has been... alright. The highs of friends balanced out like checkbooks of love, or otherwise. Been partially ill, high on throat medication (mmmm), bhangra-ed at my sister's Terribly Bolly Bhangra Birthday Bash (don't you just want to keel over from the alliteration), been worried sick about my I/S, had bursts of ideas for projects that I would SO love to do (and prolly will in my time la procrastinatia)...
I watched Thank You For Smoking on Saturday, while cooped up at home and lying to myself that I was a sick sick dog who couldn't finish her KI I/S in the state that she was in. Heheh. What an kick-ass movie. I shall write about it in detail in my next post. (Ah, incentive!) I have to go now.
I leave you with a quote from Rabindranath Tagore:
"When we were together, we mostly played with words and tried to laugh away our
best opportunities to see each other clearly ... Whenever there is the least
sign of the nest becoming a jealous rival of the sky [,] my mind, like a
migrant bird, tries to take ... flight to a distant shore. "
Infinite brownie points, and cake points too, to the kook who can decipher that.