Yung & Easily Freudened

..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:

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:

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.

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!

wingless angelas hanging, sore in their throats

singing since prawns at dawn yawned and said bite me;

morning is the light behind their freed minds and feet

turning south, southwest, west, southwest.

I lie in bed and feel like the word shatter.

Yeah, well, Labour Day weeekend has been celebrated with some pomp and fanfare. I’m annoyed with how much I drink (there have been some choice comments from people close to me, or birds that suddenly appear everytime I am near).

“I’m not drunk, I’m just conducting social experiments with alcohol!” Ugh, le stupide stupide stupide. I hate the look people give you once they realise they’re talking to you when you’ve had a little too much. And the lethargy for days after. Fight the lethargy, says Metric, so I’ll try!

Since the majority of me| Philip Larkin

Since the majority of me
Rejects the majority of you,
Debating ends forthwith, and we
Divide. And sure of what to do

We disinfect new blocks of days
For our majorities to rent
With unshared friends and unwalked ways,
But silence too is eloquent:

A silence of minorities
That, unopposed at last, return
Each night with cancelled promises
They want renewed. They never learn.