“I have reached a sublime depth of tiredness, that is has conferred a dignity on my selfish isolation and I don’t feel the least bit ashamed for it all.”

Rabindranath Tagore.

I have alll this time to myself, and I still haven’t found the quiet. The library still has stuff for me to do, roles to play.

I think Korea’s on. For the sparkling part of it anyway. & the poetic Irishman. Don’t laugh.

Sebab saya shotgun = cbawesome la.

But I can’t love you any other way, I don’t know how.


wangst no. 42

04Jul09

Don’t tell me I’m being influenced by Ayn Rand’s premature objectivism spiel or I’m being a blockhead/man, but why do people let disagreements affect them so much? Like in casual conversation, if a person has an opposing point of view or two hundred, why is it so displeasing to them if two people function and think differently on a particular topic, especially when their disagreement is of no consequence outside of their own relations? Okay, so the person doesn’t respond the way they expected. Maybe their expectations were naive! Alright, so they went away feeling like they didn’t find their freaking lost twin or something. Are we all slaves to the freaking ‘only connect’?! Is that all we want—for people to agree with us all the time and be agreeable and be yesmen? Would that soothe some crappy ego somewhere? I say bring it the fck on.

Also, the more time I spend in alone in the library, the harder I have to try not to hate people on sight. Just people. In general. On trains and busstops and library users and staff members. I end up being very snide and unkind to people I actually like, which is the last thing I want! Thursday was maybe the rare occasion where I actually succeeded in being kind and having a decent conversation about, amongst other topics, Irish authors, Islam, Kim Jong Il and sperm. But now it’s a little discoloured. Pah. Of course it is. Of course of course, why didn’t I see it. “I don’t trust you either.”

But okay. I’m terribly grumpy right now. I go, plskthx. And leave you with a pretteh song to cheer you up. Am tempted to get accepted to Princeton just to stalk the adorable Jewish tenor. But it’s kinda of a hassle, you know. Stalking and all. 8D

 


Some notes while watching them classics decompose in front of my eyes:

1) Just got back from the loo after washing hands like I have OCD and I don’t care. There was some woman from the nearby office in one of the other cubicles, peeing away, when suddenly, she sighs. The most orgasmic miasmic fantastic breath of relief, it was so loud.  And oh my lord, WHAT was she doing in there?! In the midst of peeing too. Who does that? I will find out who that sigher was, and what was so relieving. I’ve got to. It’s not the receptionist, but was it the guidance counselor? Or the Dean *_*

2) Milan Kundera’s Immortality feels like an accurate desciption of a life of everyday ban mien, youtube & reading.

3) I read the Wall Street Journal, The International Herald Tribune, Newsweek, Time & The Business Time …OUT OF GUILT. No one else reads them.

3) Ben Folds is hidden brilliance.

4) When people steal the TV away from you, resort to AL PACINO IN SCARFACE. Well, not call everybody a mothereffin c***s****er. You know what I mean.

5) I’m still laughing over the Epiphany submission of Cunning Face Powder 8D s&m, this is too funny. She’s exhausted her primary school vocab list. Honestly, what reference does the title evoke?!


I think I figured out one of my purposes in life. I want to snap pictures of people where they actually like themselves. Pictures where people actually  look like some element of how they are, act, speak, believe. These aren’t the best, but something like these.

anafran

Frannie, 2005.

modeljill 

Goodenough, 2005

127

My sister and dad, Turkiye

mie!

Chimmikins, 2005

bozos!

Stephala & Claire. They’re really like that.

suhwee

Su in Malacca

046 (2) 

Indian Boys

109

Street kid

114

And his mama.

136

Street girl, who reminded me of someone only I can’t remember who

074 (2)

My cousin Seema

018

Gramma

310

My perpetually drunk uncle

489

On the train to Pune, my aunt & Seema.

407

My cousin Sharon.

346

My cousin Manisha.


8D HOLA. I return from bali, tanned and cheery and NOT completely stoned outta my mind.

Asian holidays are bargaining in broken bahasa melayu until you are sure you are exploiting the fler in some way, depriving him from buying his kid a batik shirt or an Indonesian storybook about Hang Jebat. Back at rehearsals now, and am seeing life through librarian eyes! 8D Will be back when the Midol/tea tree kicks in.

Just a message to the d’uhest Indon I know, if she actually comes here, ‘cause it’s noted on my to-do list:

LOVE YOU LA, ‘GELA YOU FREAK.

I bumped into all sorts of peoples today. Via not-so-surprise smses, and some super surprise smses, with them rushing in like unexpected cloudy days promising to rain in a stretch of blistering heat. So I put down The Fountainhead to laugh at Simei, my friend’s friendly friend, the mats doing smoky business and the wide open spaces within my reach.


..an impromptu salute will commence after dinner. Strictly no disappointment for dessert.

7 days of adventure, 10 days of paradise, and then the free unknown.

To francais texts to & fro that strange boy, to prac with the ever enthu shar!on, to lazing at the desk of my mind (hi carol ann duffy) slow juggling civilizations and f-f-free-stylin’ in the afternoon…

[edit] Red bull high mountain tops this morning and bubbling bubbling stage fright for the first time in 3 years. [/edit]

And to the effin’ joie de vivre 8D

Watch this:


The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

And thus I present a photoessay of my loco un poco brother, Avinash:

PA062379

PB200348

 halo

PA292592 

PC093263

PC163305

avin

 

happybdayvin2

P7181750 

indiangroomdotcom

P6173699

252

010

sneeze

smilie

all the things you do, the person you’ll become. love you la minimat.


When defying your body clock and generally screwing up your sleep cycles, it is important to note that YOU WILL BE ALONE IN THIS. Besides having the occasional cockroach for company, of course. It’s weird how now they give me the shivers and incite great rage that involves STOMPING, WINCING, and my brother’s RUBBER SLIPPERS, but things were way different when I was 11 and had talked myself out of being scared of them almost completely. I used to let them run over my arms and legs when they came running out after the rain at recess, and when the bell rang I’d nestle them in my palm as we lined up for prayers. Hail Mary, –tickle tickle- Mother of God, –tickle tickle-… Time makes strangers of old friends.

I’ve changed, but it’s weird to try and quantify how. Am I less defined by SA? Less fired by rigour and rhetoric? Losing the little injustices I used to fight for, the mindless work, milling constant friends, my weekly battles against the overlords who shall not be named? And one and a half years on, we are weary and impatient, tired and unfulfilled, waiting until we can sit somewhere and rest safely. Kafka y la cuccaracha.

I am a sick man. I am an angry man. I am an unattractive man. I think there is something wrong with my liver.

-Dostoyevsky’s Notes From The Underground, tellin’ a hangover like it is.

Am happy! I get to go back to the NUS library with its quaint charm and smell of peat, its grilled sandwich machines and yawning aisles of PROPER books! I will sneak around and test out my old slr and curl up on long bus rides :D Who wants to come?

Am SUCH a youtube junkie! Sorry la. I need to learn how to torrent.

Btw, it finally rained today, and it looked like this:

watercolourrain


being indian

looking through others’ eyes of wonderment

and sorting through my own ignorance

that claws slowly at the same places

these stories half-translated, this superstition unexplained,

those rice patterns maligned like bad fate babies;

my lack of culture is like a cyst,

itching on my back, down, to the right, oh,

that I cannot reach.


Wei Ting

12May09

I have plans. And people. Lately I have become more inept at expressing how I feel. Maybe because I’m out of practice. Or perhaps in order to distance yourself from something you have to describe it. Or is it the other way around? Oh Atwood.

 

Lil incident in psych class the other day:

Chaplain the Psych Lecturer: (just to be controversial) So we all know women are very emotional, bon, alors–

Breda: NO! How can you say that?! Women are like, SO not emotional okay, it’s just wrong for you to- to- say anything like that..

Classmate 1: Breda, calm down…

…Way to fight for the cause, lady.

 

Scooter, snorkel, bargain, roam, swim, photograph, pray, meet, go wild, cook, love, watch, dance, fight, chill.

 

Brill. And for those of you with available technology:

Woo-HOOO!