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January 31, 2003
Music for The Soul
Inspired by a friend, I dug out my Ben Harper CD and listened to him while I worked on my class presentation due in three hour's time.
and boy, did the lyrics cut bad.
It wouldn't have worked out anyway.
So now it's just another lonely day.
Further along we just may.
But for now it's just another lonely day.
Wish there was something now I could say or do.
I can resist anything but the temptation from you.
But I'd rather walk alone than chase you around.
I'd rather fall myself than let you drag me on down.
It wouldn't have worked out anyway.
And now it's just another lonely day.
Further along we just may.
But for now, it's just another lonely day.
Yesterday seems like a life ago,
'cause the one I love today, I hardly know,
You I held so close in my heart, Oh dear,
Grow further from me with every fallen tear.
- Another Lonely Day
Posted by lainey at 03:20 AM | Comments (0)
January 30, 2003
Only the spirit of rebellion
Only the spirit of rebellion craves for happiness in this life. What right have we human beings to happiness? -- Ghosts, Henrik Ibsen
Posted by lainey at 10:45 PM | Comments (0)
January 29, 2003
High Fidelity Inspired
If I do not sleep tonight, it will be my fourth night. Or is it the third? Whatever it is, I'm very tired, so I should sleep.
I like to come up with lists. So the next few days, we will have lots of lists. Let's have a checkLIST here to begin with.
Lists of things to List:
1) Mailing Lists
2) Shoes
3) Bags
4) Perfumes
5) "Can't do books cuz they are all in Singapore"
6) CDs I have with me in Melbourne
7) Things I have in my room.
8) My favourite things
9) Television shows I actually watch
10) The various email addresses I have.
I can think of so much so far.
I subscribe to all these mailing lists.
Do they define who I am?
1) Dictionary.com Word of the Day
2) BananaRepublic.com
3) Ediets.com
4) Medscape Psychiatry
5) Heartlight Magazine "Bible Verse of The Day"
6) NYTimes.com
7) Biotherm.com
8) www.writersmarket.com
9) Biblomania.com
10)SignOnSanDiego.com
11) emedicine.com
Posted by lainey at 08:15 PM | Comments (0)
fuck. fuck. fuck!
fuck. fuck. fuck!
Posted by lainey at 07:31 PM | Comments (0)
Death Becomes Me
Was in the laundry room sorting out my laundry when I saw a huge, mega-spider crawling by the sink. I picked up a tissue lying in the trashcan and killed it.
Killed it. I've never done anything quite like that. I didn't squeal, scream or make any noise.
I didn't feel anything.
Didn't feel guilty, didn't feel grossed out. Didn't feel nothing.
It's either the lack of sleep that has rendered me powerless against my common fears. Or I just don't care anymore.
And yes, killing does provide a keen sense of thrill, and achievement.
I killed a spider. Whoopee.
Grandpa would be disgusted if he'd known.
Posted by lainey at 06:48 PM | Comments (0)
Lacking Paris
Reading Aurorin's and Dave's blogs on Casablanca, I think about my own tragic screenplay. I'm due to watch Casablanca and An Affair to Remember at the Moonlight Cinema at the Botanical Gdns next month, but I can't wait to write about the Love people talk about, even before I watch it on screen.
To everyone, we had the Romance.
The way we met. The way we endured. The way we tried.
Across oceans, cultures, differences, believes, up-bringing, education, race, age, interests, lives. We are the exact opposite of each other. Yet so alike. Like two sides of a coin.
The way we met. The way we endured. The way we tried.
Are we trying now? Am I? Are you?
To us, it was Love. There never was Romance. You weren't comfortable with being Romantic. And any attempt on your part at being Romantic made me laugh and shrink away.
But your definition of Love and mine, are too different.
I Love.
And you Love.
But do you really?
I ask myself that question every day, every waking damned hour.
You might ask me, if I really? Since I keep questioning, and I keep wanting. And I keep yearning.
According to you, you just keep me in your heart and wait.
Are you speaking the truth, or is it just an excuse not to do anything?
Do I need Love? Or do I need Romance?
I don't know. I have so many questions. And I know I can't ask. I can't dwell. I can't ponder.
It's all useless. You can't give me the answers. Nobody would.
All I can do is to wait wait wait.
All I can do is to die a million times each day. Lead my life like the walking dead, waiting for the day for you to come revive me.
Will you?
Or will I simply die a million times each day till the end of time?
Dying a million times. Oh I know the feeling so well, but each new death, still hurts afresh. Still hurts like there's no tomorrow.
Is this what Eternal Hell is all about?
* * *
I remembered when I first started dying a million times each day.
I remembered talking to Sis on MSN about it.
It was on Oct 26, 2002. Two weeks after the first initial break-up.Sis spoke to me regarding my blog.
goghette says:
do u get worried for me when u read my blog?
teardrop says:
nope.
teardrop says:
honestly..
teardrop says:
it's only natural..
teardrop says:
i mean normal to feel this way..
teardrop says:
cuz..you love him so much
teardrop says:
trying your best to sustain this relationship..
teardrop says:
it's tough..
teardrop says:
but u just kept trying
teardrop says:
ardrop says:
and in the end..
teardrop says:
he gave up
teardrop says:
if i were you..
teardrop says:
i wld have died a million times
teardrop says:
but you are Strong
But you don't know. I've died a million times, and am still dying. Over and over again, each day. How many times can one person die, before the person stops dying?
And ever since that day, I've never stopped dying. Because you are not mine yet. Not fully mine yet.
Posted by lainey at 01:06 AM | Comments (0)
January 26, 2003
Finally.
Everyone, say hi to Jonah :)
Greetings from San Diego :)
Posted by lainey at 01:06 PM | Comments (3)
January 25, 2003
Hot hot hot!
Stayed home today cuz we can't go anywhere in this insane weather. And the article sums it up all.
And it's quite funny la. :)
Posted by lainey at 01:37 PM | Comments (1)
This Writing Life
I do not have a good memory. And I live my life trying to record every event, minor or major, in my life. In my journal, on my blog, in my organiser, in photographs. I remember things through words first. And with words, the visuals stick. Scents ignite memories in me too.
I'm a memory-person.
Which, might or might not be, a good thing.
But it's the writing in my personal journal that matters most to me. Cuz somehow, writing there, writing with a pen on paper seems most significant. Blogging is just a quick fix. For a just-in-case-i-forget situation. At least I have something to refer to.
For me, I know I lapse into periods of non-writing in my journal and it's those un-documented events, time-spans, that probably meant the most to me. Those were the times when I got too carried away I suppose. By people, or by technology.
I think I write best when in solitude.
Either in solitude or in calm control. I think it when my life is in control. I guess the past year, even till now, my life spun totally beyond the axis of control. And when I write, it's crap. It's just attention seeking me looking for me to make a certain judgment about me. I think deep down inside, I want everyone to love me, to need me, to think I'm a pretty good deal.
Of course that all fell through. And the writing can attest to that. I hate it when I suck. I've not come up with a single piece of decent writing that means a single thing for a long long while. Nothing to go into the portfolio. Nothing to go anywhere. I hate it. Being sucky at what I adore. Been too long and superficial as it sounds, I need to write something soon that I can call my own, and be proud of it. Soon.
Sometimes I think i write best on planes. Perhaps because there's nothing else to distract me from. In a cabin full of strangers, there's really nothing much else to do. But to sort out my thoughts. But lately, I've taken to watching stupid movies, or merely staring into space on planes. And absolutely doing nothing. I've become unproductive even in the one place I thought would/might work for me.
Ultimately, being able to write easily about anything gives me a sense of control. Control over my thoughts, control over the flow of thinking. And even when I write because my emotions were/are running amok, it gives me a huge sense of control. Being able to bind those febrile, overwhelmed, overheated emotions onto paper gives them heartfelt meaning and gives me control.
If it ain't on paper, it ain't mean a thing.
And it hurts that so many things happened that can't mean a thing because they are not on paper anymore.
When I was younger, I wrote more. But I don't see how it meant I was more in control then. But maybe I was.
In gaining control, I gain strength.
And in losing control, I go insane and spiral down into nothingness.
So if writing makes so much sense in my life, why then, don't I write more regularly and frequently in here. I guess, in a self-built self-destructive mode, it's the same reason - why I binge, why I don't sleep, skip classes, stay home, wallow endlessly, get totally socially, get totally anti-social...
I need control.
I want control.
I must control.
Posted by lainey at 11:10 AM | Comments (0)
Handicap
I can't write anymore. And I think I know why. I don't feel anymore. I miss him so much I can't feel anymore. I just do frivolous social stuff to hide from the pain.
I miss him so much. But I can't feel anymore.
I don't know how to feel about the missing anymore.
I can't write anymore.
Posted by lainey at 01:09 AM | Comments (2)
Hot Summer Nights
'twas so hot tonight that I cajoled Charles, Boon and Mich to go out for ice-cream at 2am. :) We drove down to Chinatown and finally found a 24-hour place. Had my coke float and cooled down drastically. I'm like a radiator. But I'm all heated up again :( I'm not kidding. I hate the heat. I mean it. Any way, the funniest thing happened - the people from news came to us and asked us to pretend to be drinking milk-shakes (precisely what we were doing!). They wanted to do a bit of news on people who went out this very night for milk-shakes/smoothies because it is so blardy hot. Hmm. Funny.
Anyway, this night, and I know, as will the subsequent few torturous days (It's gonna be 42 tomorrow), reminded me of that fateful day in San Diego. I was feeling just as terrible. You guys must understand that I'm extremely sensitive to heat. He was so nice and sweet to me that day because I was extremely irritable being in pain (as I am now) and he did make me feel better and more comfortable. I remember the entry I made at the old site about this. I still think about it. And I still miss it. And miss him. And wish he is here. BEcause I know he would make me feel better now. :) I miss my him. But I think this is the last summer I will have to endure without him, so I shall be patient. :)
I don't sound coherent. But if you hardly have had any sleep for the past week and are in a burning hell, you wouldn't either. :p
Thursday, October 10, 2002
I remember the day it hit 90s in San Diego. The day the sun and the temperature decided to do their routine Singaporean trick on me. I was perspiring and my skin was breaking into huge red splotches. The sun scorched me so badly. I was in absolute agony. He couldn't touch me or talk to me, because I just sat in his car, unable to move or talk, paralysed by the humid heat and the glaring sun.
We went about our usual day of errands before going back home. The cold shower I took didn't help much. Within 30 minutes, I was the acrimonious lobster again, the summer sun still glaring into the apartment at 7pm.
He then covered up all the windows and made the apartment really dark. Turned on the a/c at full blast even though he hates a/c, and sat next to me, with a sporadic brochure in hand, fanning me. Not saying anything, just fanning me and letting me watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S.
I couldn't be angry or bitter anymore. I had to smile. Because I know the weather was killing everybody too. So I picked up a magazine too. And the two of us sat on the couch the entire night, fanning one another.
Posted by lainey at 12:27 AM | Comments (1)
January 24, 2003
The Law of Science
But of course, the moment didn't stay.
What goes up, must come down.
Going running and hopefully I will get some serontonin fix.
Posted by lainey at 05:45 PM | Comments (0)
Therapy for The Broken
Feeling down yesterday and spoke to Tony about it and he suggested that I should go shopping. Felt a lil insulted at that and I retorted that I can't resort to shopping each time I feel down. Moreover, it's only a short term solution. Spoke to Calvin in the night thereafter and he divulged that he spent 2000 pounds on clothes the past month alone (!) and I felt tempted thereafter. Went running at midnight last night and finally achieved my 5km run feat as opposed to the usual 4.4 km effect. The serontonin release aided in a better mood. :)
Today I went shopping. Bought a skirt (i need a skirt!), a top (it was cheap!) and the totally babelicious top that I saw at the window the day after I got back from Melbourne (when a girl gotta have it, she gotta have it!). So here I am, totally broke, probably have to starve for the next month, but absolutely ecstatic and content. :)
If only time stops now. :) Right here. :)
Oh yes, and I signed up for French. Finally. :)
Can't wait to wear my new clothes. Anyone wanna go out with me? *winks*
Posted by lainey at 02:37 PM | Comments (3)
January 23, 2003
The Black Hole
In some obscure self-destructive mode, I do things, to hurt myself. To get myself down. I know there are certain things I can do to make myself happy. Read a book. Listen to good, happy music. Run. Go out with people. Watch TV. Anything but what I'm doing now.
Moping.
Listening to the wrong type of music.
Writing.
Moping.
Falling off the edge of the world.
Hurting. Feeling pain. Thinking. Thinking. Hurting.
Slipping away into nothingness.
Tomorrow, the sun will be out again, and all will be well. I will be that social creature that's expected of me. And night will come and everything will come crumbling down again.
The truth is, I don't want to be here. I don't want to be there either.
I don't know what I want.
All I know is that I'm falling. REally falling.
Gosh.
Posted by lainey at 12:28 AM | Comments (3)
January 22, 2003
Sun Dust
Today's an almost perfect day. Finally got my internet connection working from my PC, went out for a walk, had a good lunch with a friend, went to Witchery to check out the sale and found nothing to my liking. The weather's a gentle 23 degrees with the sun shining. I have bad hair but I saved it with a bun. I would love to go running but my sports bras are all in the wash.
Today's a perfect day to run. I wish I can go running.
Should I?
Shall I?
In the meantime, Harry Connick Jnr sings to me and takes me away from this world - to his world of fairytales and fantastical heroes; yet reminding me so much of him.
Oh how the lyrics resonate my quiet pain.
Star Dust
And now the purple dusk of twilight time
Steals across the meadow of my heart
High up in the sky the little stars climb
Always reminding me that we're apart
You wandered down the lane and far away
Leaving me a song that will not die
Love is now a stardust of yesterday
The music of the years gone by
Sometimes I wonder why I spend
The lonely nights dreaming of a song
The melody haunts my reverie
And I am once again with you
When our love was new
And each kiss an inspiration
But that was long ago
And now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song
Beside the garden wall
When stars are bright
You are in my arms
The nightingale tells his fairy tale
Of paradise where roses grew
Though I dream in vain
In my heart it will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain
Posted by lainey at 03:03 PM | Comments (0)
January 21, 2003
I think I'm playing with
I think I'm playing with fire.
I think I'm flirting with the idea of playing with fire.
And I'm oh-so-scared I will get burnt.
Posted by lainey at 02:38 PM | Comments (3)
VCR-living
In the midst of my self-imposed seclusion from the rest of the world (partly due to cramps, partly due to melancholia, and the other part to an empty pocket), I speak to Jules on ICQ and I finally figured out something.
That life in Melbourne doesn't really matter to me. I'm just trying to get through it, get past it. Like how I told Dave last night. Melbourne is just the "pause" button in my life. I prefer my life if its in the mode of "fast forward" or "play". And by gawd, I hope I will never get to the "rewind" bit.
It's not the life in Melbourne that's affecting me. It's the life away from Melbourne. The one I'm leading not in my physical body. It's the one that's keeping me sleepless and making me risk being dysfunctional in Melbourne. It's the life AFTER Melbourne that's on my mind. The life that I want to know but have no friggin clue what its going to be like. I can plan. I can look forward to. I can be scared and prepare to run. But I have no idea what it's going to be.
So I shouldn't give myself such a headache. But I am. Especially in today's world where the past, present and future can sometimes intermeshed to produce one huge swirl-y heap of mess.
So messy. So tangled. I feel trapped.
Like a tape jammed in a VCR.
Listening to: Counting Crows - Colourblind
Posted by lainey at 12:39 PM | Comments (1)
fucked up. fucked up. fucked
fucked up. fucked up.
fucked up!
i'm just getting more and more fucked up by the minute!
arghk.
Posted by lainey at 12:21 PM | Comments (0)
Silent Storm
I've lost the ability to be able to appreciate solitude.
I've come to this point in life where I'm scared of being alone.
I need people around me all the time, though having people around me all the time tires me out.
I hate this stifling, suffocating, smouldering pretense of a summer.
Posted by lainey at 11:35 AM | Comments (0)
January 20, 2003
Slip-Shod Out-Of-Time
Weekend flew past but I think I'm still in a weekend mood and I might be so for the rest of the week before my next summer course begins on Friday. Weather is bad and the bushfires leave Melbourne to be a dusty, smoky, allergy-inducing land. I don't feel good walking around with a sinus problem and stinging eyes but I go out all the same because life is supposedly good. Gotten lots of books to read and now if only I would begin reading. Met lots of new people and liked some of them and especially liked one of them and she has my name! Little nuances in life like that make me smile. Samuel Beckett on SBS makes my day/week/weekend too and I'm looking forward to SBS every Sunday night now. Highlight of the weekend was having a long phone conversation with Mom and it oh-well hurts so much it feels good. Get what I mean? Going to watch a good and cheap movie at Nova now and life is just supposed to go on and on.
In the meantime, I ignore, or at least, try to ignore all the dreams I've been having when I manage to sneak in some sleep time.
Dreams ain't supposed to mean anything. Are they not?
Run run run! late!
Posted by lainey at 09:23 AM | Comments (0)
January 15, 2003
Not In Nick Of Time
The perfect antidote to snap me out of the mood of the previous entry: I realised I missed the deadline to my postgrad dip application to NUS. The deadline is today. And there's nothing I can do about it. I need referees and transcripts and blahblahblahs. I feel like squeaking. I feel like squealing.
And there I am, wasting yet, another year of my life. Now I can't imagine what life would be like after I graduate.
And I detest myself for such a sloppy floppy mistake.
Urghk.
Posted by lainey at 02:01 PM | Comments (1)
The Big Blue Yonder
Suddenly, just so suddenly, you get hit by an unexplainable big blue wave.
You could go for your philosophy lecture. You could enjoy the transfer of knowledge. You could even keep an alert mind for a two hour lecture despite having slept for four hours the morning before.
You could be functional.
You could make plans for.
For the rest of the week.
For the rest of summer.
For the rest of your life.
Then suddenly, before anything even begin to make sense to you. You feel that there's no point. And you feel deeply melancholic. And you feel like being blue. You feel blue. And you become blue.
But right here, right now, you do not have the privilege to be blue. To be melancholic. You must pretend to smile. To happy giggly bubbly silly frivolous. You must pretend to be the girl they want you to be. Because right here, right now, there's no one you can tell. And no one who would understand, how you can simply turn from a bright sunny shade of pink to a foreboding hue of blue. No one would fathom the reason behind it.
Because it just happened. For no rhyme or reason. It attacked straight from behind. And hurled you into that black pit you've always been so scared of. Re-enacting the nightmarish scene of you spiralling downwards. The bottomless pit. And not one witness in sight.
No matter how hard you try to rationalise to yourself. No matter how hard you try to cheer yourself up. No matter how hard you try to wake from this nightmare to go back into the cheerful reality of a Melbourne summer. Or to leave this damned reality for the dreamland of security. No matter how hard you try; or what you do.
This is it.
This feels like it.
You know that it is it.
So you can only sit at a corner. Trying to be unobstrusive as possible. And wait for this wave to pass. Breathe quietly and wait for the pink, the yellow or the red to return. Anything but this bluey blue blue.
Anything but this.
But you gasp for breath. Gasp hard for breath. Can't breathe. Can't think. Can't feel. Except for the absolute dread. That dread you get when you are falling.
How long is this fall gonna take?
So someone catch hold of me, and bring me up on grounded land again.
Please.
Posted by lainey at 01:56 PM | Comments (5)
January 13, 2003
Sometimes, I think I've forgottten
Sometimes, I think I've forgottten how to write.
Then I come up with an entry that I'm pretty pleased with. And it discounts all the rest of the entries that I'm pissed at.
I wish I can be consistent.
And I wish I can write. Write out of my heart yet write well for once.
Sometimes I think, I just can't write anymore.
Then I remember, that I must learn not to take myself too seriously.
Even in the one thing I might have a wee semblance of pride in.
Posted by lainey at 04:54 PM | Comments (0)
Beyond The Looking Glass
We have come to a strange place in our relationship.
A place where people speak in hushed whispers and tread about in tip-toe. In fear of.
In fear of what?
In fear of losing the other party completely if we make one wrong step.
In fear of destroying whatever pathetic remnants of a relationship we have left if we say one word wrong.
In fear of crossing the line to the place where any attempts at repair, when the time comes, would be futile.
In a strange way, I am okay that we are at this place. Better here than there.
Better here than anywhere else worse.
Better this than nothing.
So we are polite to each other.
You thanking me for every little thing, me trying my best not to be sarcastic. Like how we were when we first started the relationship.
And me tentative about sharing any detail of my life. Because I don't want to seem too pushy, too needy.
We make little jokes. And laugh mock-light-heartedly.
We make little plans for the future. About the future. Around the future. In the future.
Yet never mentioning once that we have no idea where the future will be.
Or when it will be.
I am okay. Only okay. Not happy. Not content. Just okay. Accepting it cuz there is no other way out.
At least I'm not angry, whiny or crying; and I don't thrive for more. Or dare ask for more.
But it cuts each time we hang up the phone.
When it's time for us to cease conversation, you would remind me to protect myself against the evils of the world. To learn to build up a stronger defence mechanism, to take good care of myself. And I would urge you to eat proper and try to cut down on the smoking.
And we'd hang up.
Without saying "I love you"
Not anymore. We just don't have the right to say it to each other anymore.
And how did we lose it?
I have no idea either.
Posted by lainey at 04:52 PM | Comments (2)
January 12, 2003
Willy Wussy Weekend is O'er!
The weekend didn't quite turn out as expected. I had wanted a weekend of quiet reading and exercise and regime. The summer classes have taken its toll on me and I seriously need to figure out those Greek philosophers out before the rest of my class decides that I'm a complete idiot next week.
However, I ended up having a night out with Boon on Friday night. Eating alot of junk and having a quick glance at the new NGV gallery at the Federation Square. So anyway, we walked all about the city and ate alot of junk food and spent a great deal of time chatting. And it felt pretty good. Because for a while, I thought I'd lost a friend in him. :)
Saturday morning was awakened by Wen who told me Serene was in town for the weekend and we should have a girl's day-out and a girl's night-in. Hmm. So we did. Ate Vietnamese noodles (finally the real stuff!) and caught the new Leo pic Catch Me If You Can. It's light, fluffy stuff and perfect for a Saturday afternoon. :) Thereafter we proceeded to Wen's place for pizza and alot of Friends. (Courtesy of son who gave me Season 1-9 of Friends for Christmas/New Year's whatever.)
So I did eat alot of junk. And I made it home only this morning. Only to have Roshie calling me up and yattering non-stop on the phone. And I kept my darnest best to stay awake while we talk about shopping. Or did she? :) Sunday is reserved for some detox I suppose, after the totally decadent and unhealthy lifestyle led the past few days. It's bizzare cuz I hardly eat junk food in Singapore, and yet it's so easy to succumb to the entire circle of junk foodies once I step on foreign ground. This can't be it. Made it running. Cooked some congee. And I think we are just about ready for Socrates, Plato, Aristotle and the Stoics.
It really isn't all that bad you know. :)
He does his stuff. And I do mine.
Listening to: Doris Day's Let's Take An Old-Fashioned Walk
Posted by lainey at 05:39 PM | Comments (0)
January 10, 2003
Happy New Year
I finally realised 2002's over. And we are well into our third week of the new year.
Wow.
I don't know why it didn't register to me earlier, that I will be turning 23 this year. I don't know why it didnt make its impact, that the entire year of 2002 is over.
And over and done with it is.
Cliche as it might sound, it's all over, isn't it?
I don't know. I really don't quite remember what happened. And I don't know where to begin. I don't know if it's considered a good year or not. And many factors point to the fact it shouldnt be.
But why not? Don't they say that the more mistakes made, the more lessons learnt. So judging from the sheer number of mistakes I made in 2002, doesn't it render me a pretty learned person?
I don't know. Where it all began and where it all ended.
I don't know. What to make of the last two months of the past year. How totally out of control I got. Did I really get out of control? Or was I in my social-butterfly, totally in control, never been better mode?
Was I ever in control before in 2002?
Or rather, was I ever in control in my entire life?
Which is the real me?
Who do I want to be?
I don't know.
But I'd better be a good girl in 2003.
I mean it.
No more hurting others. No more hurting myself.
Or did I get the order wrong again?
Sheesh. I sure am one confused girl.
Posted by lainey at 01:02 PM | Comments (3)
Epicurean Complaints
My Philosophy class decided to make full use of the blasted summer sun and hold our discussions at the library's South Lawn. South Lawn is a place where Melb Uni students enjoy frolicking on the grass, basking in the sun.
But not me.
Yesterday's class already rendered me sun-burnt and completely dehydrated. Today, I come armoured. With my hat and my shades and a generous slather of sun-screen, I'm prepared to face the sun and endure an hour of philosophical discourse and the persistence of the summer fly. That and the grass. I don't like grass. I don't like sitting on grass. I think it's already unhygenic and there's no way I can voice it out to an entire class of ecstatic sun-revellers.
So I'm stuck on South Lawn for the rest of the fortnight. And closer to getting skin cancer.
And no, I do not think I'm a hypochondriac.
Listening to: Tom Waits. His songs make things better. You know?
Posted by lainey at 12:53 PM | Comments (2)
Changing Spaces
For those who still have the address to my old site, this is to inform you that I will be updating it again. For frivolous entries and un-thought-out thoughts.
Does it make sense?
Well, we are in Melbourne. We do need as much catharsis as we can get. :)
Posted by lainey at 11:59 AM | Comments (0)
January 09, 2003
The End of Civilisation
Oh dear...now where will I get my laughs, fashion (and sex? :p ) tips...oh dear.
Read more about it >here.<
Posted by lainey at 11:39 AM | Comments (0)
January 08, 2003
The Power of Love
The title sounds really tacky eh? :)
But I've resolved everything with him. :)
my him. *silly grin*
I'm sorry that no other person's words can get into my head the way his...does. But at least I listen to somebody right? :)
His sister is getting married during Christmas! and we are going up to Jersey to attend the wedding! That means I get to see New York! (Even though I will freeze my butt off). I can't wait to see him, his family, and Edmond! again. :)
I know Christmas is a long way to go. I'm not saying everything is going to smooth-sailing for us now.
But I know we can make it. :)
Because we've already come so far, been through so much. So what if I have to endure another year of not seeing him, not hearing from him regularly. Endure another year of having to be alone. I'm ok with that. Because Derick did tell me before I left Singapore that I have to know what I want in life. And I finally realised what is it that I want. :)
Life's not a happy ending. But we do try our best you know? :)
:)
:) :) :)
Posted by lainey at 02:52 PM | Comments (0)
Theme Song
I feel just like I'm sinking
And I claw for solid ground
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
Oh darkness I feel like letting go
If all of the strength and all of the courage
Come and lift me from this place
I know I could love you much better than this
Full of grace
Full of grace
My love
- Sarah Maclaclan, Full of Grace
Posted by lainey at 11:47 AM | Comments (1)
January 07, 2003
Weather Change
The weather turned from being intolerably sunny to its windy blasted chilly state. I think it might rain, I think it's going to rain and I worry because I forgot to bring my umbrella.
This is Melbourne. Land of screwed-up weather.
I took a long walk around campus, around the city just now. Just fitting in again. Just getting used to the nooks and crannies of a city I've learnt to call home.
Home in certain ways. I feel comfortable. Really comfortable in my own room. In the house. Though somewhat spooky, somewhat unsafe and I'm all alone there now. The irritating Aussie accent. The drunk men roaming the streets shouting I don't know what. The everything.
Melbourne is...charming. Without feelings.
Singapore is stifling, humid, grotesque, hectic, busy. But it has people who cares for me, people who love me.
In Singapore, I'm obliged because I care for everyone around me. Because I don't want to hurt anybody. Because I am responsible for alot of things and alot of people. And in so doing, I take on too much. Much more than I can handle.
In Melbourne, I don't have to care for anyone. I don't have to answer to anybody. I don't have to feel for anyone. And it's a two-way thing. In Melbourne, I learn to deal with things on my own. And it's no wonder why I blog alot more in Melbourne than when I'm in Singapore.
Cuz in Singapore, I have everyone to talk to. Mom, sis, friends.
In Melbourne, even getting people through a long-distance call is harder, and less successful.
Actually it's good. It makes me stronger. Less reliant on others.
I'm ok.
At least, I think I'm gonna be ok.
Posted by lainey at 03:42 PM | Comments (0)
January 06, 2003
Dislocation
Came back. Back in Melbourne. The house is in a dirty, gross and slimey mess and now I'm torn between cleaning the house first or unpacking. Came home last night to a brilliant setting sun at a friggin nine pm. Charles picked me up and dispelled my fears of a burglary or haunted attack of sorts. We went for Nachos and pizza and grocery shopping thereafter. Hit the bed and crashed till this morning.
Life is strange. I don't quite know what to say. It seems like I've lost my voice or something. I can't think what is going on, or what happened in Singapore, or what is going to happen in Melbourne.
All I know is that life back here is going to be very different.
I'm on my own again.
No more late night phonecalls, drives and sleepovers with friends. No more constantly-ringing mobile phone. No more drinking, smoking and lack of exercise. No more free-wheeling feasting and round-the-clock parties.
No more friends within reach.
No more love within reach.
No. I'm on my own again and maybe I can pretend the past two weeks in Singapore was just a MTV-uesque dream. And censor certain bits.
Maybe.
For a while ok?
At least till I finish organising everything.
Listening to: A lot of Miles Davis for that tinge of nostalgia. Thank you Sis for the portable CD player.
And the Australia sun is too hot, too unrelenting, too grotesque. I have to stay indoors and I think I might just have to get a burn and/or a tan. argh. Too hot.
Too haphazard. Too confused. Too everything and nothing. I can't think. I can't write. I'm still in a daze. Maybe it is just jet-lag.
But I know it's something else.
Posted by lainey at 09:49 AM | Comments (0)
January 04, 2003
Whine 2003
I'm the sort of person who says what I feel, do what I want. I usually do not consider too much into anything.
And suddenly, asking myself to be like this. Restraining what I want to do, or say, feels horrendously like a bad case of constipation.
And relief will come in a long while.
Or not come at all.
*sulks*
Hurumpf.
Posted by lainey at 09:00 AM | Comments (2)
January 03, 2003
Polka-Dot Gal
Okay. Now I have strange, itchy, red rash erupting across my body, even on my fingers.
:(
Posted by lainey at 12:21 AM | Comments (2)
January 02, 2003
Love Perspective
A friend who recently got his heart broken sent me this text message that made me in want of cry. Well. Almost.
He wrote:
"I really give it to you to maintain long distance with your boyfriend. Some yearn to be together, yet others can't wait to break apart. Forever is not in trend anymore."
But I want "forever" to be in trend forever.
I really do.
Posted by lainey at 06:56 AM | Comments (0)
Voraciously Reading Light
The past week saw me on Tony Parsons craze. Read One For My Baby then Man and Boy. The former is more enjoyable than the latter and I wonder if it's just the sequence of reading that is making the difference. Parsons recycled alot of his plots, characters and lines in his novels and I'm just about curious to read Husband and Wife to ascertain my suspicions that it will also revolves around the same issues.
Not that its a bad thing. In fact, I do think Parsons wrote from some sort of a personal experience, emotional stand. And that is what makes his writing so...readable. He is so readable. He attacks, not to the literary consciousness of the reader, but the emotional side of it all.
Reading Parsons is not too shabby la. :) It's like reading Helen Fielding and her Bridget Jones shit or Nick Hornby. Light, modern Brit persepectives. One step higher than what I perceive as shit, and one step below those heavy literary reads that causes the inevitably quintessential headaches.
I'm just trying to get through Michael Chabon's Kavalier and Clay before I leave. You reckon I can make it? :)
Here's some of what hit me most.
"Eating the cold porridge – to me it means enduring something that has to be endured. More than that, it means missing someone. Really missing someone.
The way I miss her.
But she is gone and she is not coming back.
I know that now.
I will never kiss her again. I am never going to wake up beside her again. I am never going to watch her sleeping again.
That perfect moment when she opened her eyes and smiled her slightly goofy smile – a smile that seemed to reveal as much gum as teeth, and a smile that always made me feel as though something inside me was melting – I definitely won’t see that again. There are ten thousand things that we are never going to do together again.
“You’ll meet someone else,’ he teels me, with all the patience that my real father could never quite muster. ‘Give it time. There will be another woman. You’ll get married again. You can have it all. Children and everything.’
He is trying to be kind. He is a good man. Maybe this is what he really thinks.
But I don’t believe a word of it.
I think that you can use up your love. I think you can blow it all on one person. You can love so much, so deeply, that there is nothing left for anyone else."
"You could give it all the time in the world, and I would never find someone to fill the gap that she has left.
Because how do you find a substitute for the love of your life?
And why would you want to?
Rose is never coming home again.
Not to me.
Not to anyone.
And perhaps I could learn to live with it if I could resist this ridiculous urge to phone her. Things would be more bearable if I could remember, really remember, that she’s gone and never forget it.
But I can’t help it.
Once a day I go to call her. I have never actually dialed the number, but I have come pretty close. Do you think I need to look that number up? I don’t even have to remember it with my head. My fingers remember.
And I am afraid that one day I will call her old number and somebody else will answer. Some stranger. Then what will happen? Then what will I do?
It can strike at any time, this urge to call her. If I’m happy or sad or worried, I suddenly get this need to talk to her about it. The way we always did when we were – I nearly said lovers, but it wasthat and much more.
Together. When we were together.
She’s gone and I know she’s gone.
It’s just that sometimes I forget.
That’s all.
So now I know what I must do.
I must eat the cold porridge, and fight this overwhelming urge to reach for the phone."
"There’s something wrong with my heart. It shouldn’t be working like this. IT should be doing something else. Something normal. More like everybody’s else’s heart. "
-One For My Baby
Posted by lainey at 06:32 AM | Comments (1)
Self-Imposed Dilemma
I have three days more left in Singapore. And I get myself into enough emotional entanglements to last me a lifetime.
What the fuck am I doing?
Friend told me to "Stop feeling guilty and make my life simple"...or something like that.
I want to.
Argh.
*tumbles around*
Posted by lainey at 12:44 AM | Comments (1)
January 01, 2003
New Year's Grouch
The New Year was badly heralded in this year.
Got pissed drunk, and probably did an entire slew of things I would regret.
Have not recovered from the hangover and spent the entire day playing majong (and losing. hey I AM hungover!)
Feeling incredibly at a loss now.
But still, I seek to escape.
But the littlEST thing,
can make me miss him so much, the hurt makes me double over.
And keeps me awake. Despite it all.
Posted by lainey at 11:53 PM | Comments (0)