and so begins my life being seventeen. i now have a magazine dedicated especially to me and my age group (not that i'll patronize it hoohoo) and and, apparently will spend the whole 365 days being nothing short of sweet. well it is now the 7th, and so 364 days more to go! what is the point of being seventeen, that's what i want to know. i still "can't" watch M-18 movies, uh buy alcohol, uh go clubbing so what am i seventeen for.

firstest first, a thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaank you to everybody who made my birthday a better day than usual - this would mean tash zara steffi and the rest of 1t03 for the delish cake! am liking my kiwi bag and viridian jelly slippers muchos *smiles* also, the random calls and well-wishing from um jeanie amanda nadya desmond matthew. CHARMAINE LEE YUN HUA who called me in the early morn (something impossible, usually), whom i miss terribly. and everybody else! (because i may have forgotten AND because i'm feeling particularly magnanimous tonight ahaha)

so! a few surprises sprung up on me yesterday, of which i shall not elaborate here. but anyway, it will prove to be an interesting year - or so my die-hard (i would say desperate) optimist cries.

today, was out with siew ching for linner (lunch cum dinner!) and then we popped over to kino to check out literature guidebooks. to digress a little: oh the shame the shame! to have to depend on guide books but damn william blake makes me feel absolutely stupid. and the fact that the diction is so simple, it appears deceptively elementary which grk DOES NOT HELP. i go to school, and come home feeling stupid. something doesn't quite click here.

back to my pointy-point! so we were at kino's literature section when this oldish japanese man comes up to us and asks, "are you looking for a higher and deeper meaning to life?" which of course, left us puzzled bemused and at least on my part, wary. cheeky old men you know, hurhur. BUT, it turns out, that's he's a struggling writer, having written a couple of books - one having taken him 14 YEARS and basically, i think he is rather bitter because he cannot find a publisher.

ahh the trials and tribulations, we all suffer for our art. i don't know why either, but i AM being mildly sarcastic as i say this.

we had an amusing rant, the three of us, but it was mostly him talking. he's travelled alot, the most recent being europe. he sleeps in changi airport, stubbled, dishevelled, and ranting against the commercialism and rubbish found on the shelves of kinokuniya. it was interesting, and there were many points in which we agreed upon and sincerely, i sympathize the guy. but you know, for the most part, he amused me. i'm sorry siew ching, but he did.

his unfailing idealism and utter conviction of his talent. both, terribly admirable - it's quite difficult to stubbornly maintain your idealogies (an OLD MAN, i remind you) and well, being absolutely sure of your own competency, it's something that's quite remarkable. the thing is, both notions are so foolish.

he had a few copies of his work, which we browsed through. the 14 year-novel and a collection of haikus. it was pretty good, the haikus but nothing uh, absolutely profound and we could only flip throough the novel and all i managed to catch was a lot of dialogue. it was bare, very sparse but he did say he was more ernest hemingway but really, i couldn't catch any striking linguistic style or what-not. but you know how literature is - it only becomes that after you die (and yes, i did tell him this and haha he agreed.) what disturbed me was his conviction though, that he was convinced that what he has produced was a masterpiece and in his words, a diamond. the way i see it, writing is a continual process so the epitome of perfection cannot exist. it's always better being a self-critic than a self-appraiser, and so much more worse when you are so very convinced. but, i'm just a 17 year old, he was in his 50s - maybe he knows something i don't know.

among other things, he talked about the stupidity of capitalism and that he fully supports communism. personally, i think there is no way communism can successfully work as long as the most fundamental factor, that is, our basic human nature does not change. we will succumb to greed for wealth and power, and come to think of it now, it is strange that for a man who has been through so many rejections that stem from a form of greed (commercialism), that he still believes in inner human goodness.

he was truly, from what we saw, a caricature of the idealistic, struggling artist. i completely, thoroughly admire his drive and i suppose, courage, but at the same time, i want to tell him "wake up and smell the fertilizer", but i didn't have the heart to. because there's a degree of delusion in being so confident that your work is full-blown literature and because of the indulgent masochism of being the struggling artist. i should know; takes one to know one. i hope he will be okay, an incredible character to meet.

there's a reason idealism is called what it is. if idealism was a workable notion, it'll be pragmatism wouldn't it. it exists EXACTLY because it'll fail in application.

his name was hideo asanki.