OMGTHISBLOGISSTILLALIVE.
i surprise myself sometimes.

today, in GP or wait no, it was ethics class -which, we all know, is just half an hour spent bitching about the dire state of the human condition- i said something which perhaps, has been the most apt thing i've said in a looong time:

"i'm sorry we're not suffering."

the context here is that we were talking (ONCE MORE) about the complacency, hedonism, indulgence and lack of intellectual strife in singaporean youths. it is getting to be a very tiresome topic that surely by now, has exhausted itself! i know i am. vell, at the least, i have come up with my stance on this issue (i.e. the above sentence) and whenever this topic comes up, as i am sure it will, i will repeat it in my head over and over and over again until i drown all the other voices out so that all i'll here is the silence of the cows coming home.

speaking of cows! today, was steffi loe, our very own Vegetarian's birthday. the day was quite brilliant because birthdays just have the tendency of inducing endorphins, even if they're not your own. i was therefore, rather hyper and mind you, this was before the onslaught of chocolate and willy wonka. THE MOVIE WAS ALSO AWESOME CHARMAINE DON'T KILL ME I'M GOING TO WATCH IT WITH YOU I PROMISE REALLY. you know, one of those days where everything seems to go smoothly even when they're not actually because you're feeling nauseous from the spray paint and your feet are wet because of the hole in your sole but you insist on wearing said tattered sneakers anyway and there's lots of work but you conveniently ignore it AND THAT BAR OF CHOCOLATE DISAPPEARED MUCH FASTER THAN YOU EXPECTED seriously, like where did it go! but none of that matters anyway, because for some reason, everything seems to be going so well today from the inane like blowing huge bubbles into the gray sky and witty repartee with Eville counter-part/anisha and walking around with a ridiculous (and not very good) british accent because the movie was just so good and i ate a packet of tomato sauce in the cinema, on its own, yes it was quite nice shut up i do NOT have a tomato fetish and i wonder when this sentence is going to end, no, i suppose not yet, let's see what else can i remember that was good and endorphin-rushing about today well AH YES i have finally noticeably defiled a piece of school property and yes, i know this is rather long overdue considering the events of 2003&2004 but give me a break yes, it is rather difficult balancing the whole I'm A Geek Really Act and surpressing the Die Establishment, DIE aspect but indeed - the blue door of the art room now has strong vestiges of limey green spray paint i wonder what annoying Operations Manager will say oh the day was charmed even for the bubble that we blew which took a fascinating and much emphasis must me placed on this, LONG-LIVED journey whereby it narrowly escaped the spikes of the roof, floated up and then paused in mid-air absolutely still as if musing what next to do, which by the way, included floating over to the next block and all Punsters with substantial experience with the Livelihood of Bubble-blowing should know that this, is nothing short of miraculous but it did after all, after some time and much joy in this corporeal world, go *pop* fare thee well, little bubble that brought us much joy and laughter, your achievements, though seemingly trivial, will not be forgotten and wow this IS a very long sentence isn't it, i wonder whether anybody's still reading this by this point, IF YOU ARE, you are quite silly indeed because i'm sure by now you would have realized that this is simply a mass of incoherent rambling that is even beyond my usual level of well, incoherence and you all really must find something to do with your life, ambition is the key IT IS THE KEY and perhaps, you should find a hobby, like like what is really passive and inane ah yes, mountain-climbing without ropes and a knowledgeble, if hobbit-like guide oh all right i suppose i'll allow you to bring some raffia and geez this rambling this is quite exhausting, i used to be able to do this for ages i must be getting old, in fact i am feeling an odd sharp pain below my ribcage, in addition to the chronic neck and backache - oh yes i've forgotten the entire purpose (yes there was one) of this rambling: happy thoughts!

because after matthew's sms and the subsequent checking of my e-mail inbox, only to find more suggestions on how to make my penis larger thankyouverymuch, endorphins that had coursed through veins dissipated quite significantly which, leads me to the conclusion that endorphins must have some alcohol-like property since it can hit you in the head so fast, but then, evaporate so quickly as well. according to the wise words of willy wonka, and yes this is the accursed accidental alliteration, endorphins make you feel like you're in love. all i have to say is, well! i've always known about the endorphins but just thought that it just made you feel generally happy but noooo. love, indeed. all right then, close all the dating agencies, re-write that Beatles song (dontkillmejanice) because it's not love, but all you need, is chocolate.

so i've regressed back to charcoal drawings.

i have been quite perturbed how i've been so reliant on basic cartoon-work, what with all my morose stickmen figurines. the convenience of doing crude line drawings you know, it just makes you plain lazy. and like, much to my horror doing art class the other day, my hand just refused to draw "properly".

so am forcing myself back to the basics.

the even more disturbing thing is that guh, i'm quite unnerved by what i've been drawing. i'm doing quick portraits, and well, charcoal is naturally dark and me - i've got this inclination to be dark and it is something i can't quite let go of.

C'MON I MANAGED TO MAKE PURPLE DARK AND MORBID. geez.

the portraits are just that, dark, and unintentionally so! it's really something i can't quite shake off GUH. it's like the time zara and i laughed hilariously because i tried to draw a happy stickman,

and he looked sinister.




i am not even going to try draw a happy portrait. who knows what might come up *shudder* if i have the time, i might scan in my doodles and all

yes and baybeats was good.

today is a beautiful day.

wow, what an unusual burst of optimism izyanti, you say.

i know, it's not often i feel this way, and especially when it's over nothing really. it's the little things, i've decided, that make a day simply brilliant and even this brilliance is not the monumental hit of supercalifragilicious expialidocious-ness.

i'm spending my first five minutes in school on the computer blogging because well, i just arrived and it's 1350. i skipped the first half of school to stay home to do schoolwork due today, and i feel so calm. and much better than i would if i had gone to school, ploughed through lessons that i won't be paying attention to because i'm busy trying to finish due assignments under my econs notes. so i'm in school for art, which is starting in about an hour and honestly, getting away with things like this fill me with quiet glee.

hee.

well, there is the whole missing malay and therefore, not being around to do the group presentation thing, and i do feel a bit guilty for that - BUT, i'm planning to do the written component all by myself so i hope that will help. there, conscience appeased.

the weather is really pretty today, there was a slight drizzle while i was walking to the bus stop, and i reached just in time before the heavy shower started. and before that, i managed to buy the elusive blue packet Skittles, and that makes me happy too. when i got out of the bus, the weather was just perfect.

and even though perfect weather usually makes me wish i wasn't in school, it was fine. it was bright, but not hot or humid and you know, if there's one thing i will always remember over cjc is that for some reason, it always has a brilliantly beautiful sky over it. maybe i notice it more because we're always climbing stairs here and so, have our heads tilted skywards. i don't know, but i certainly don't notice the sky much otherwise.

usually it's in the morning, going up the overhead bridge and you can still see the sun rising and all the colours that come along with it. and then there's the expressway that we cross over, and this huge stretch of tarmac kind of rising and fading in the horizon, with all the buildings sort of framing the clouds and from the art-student point of view, it's a perfect composition from every angle.

i suppose a large reason why i'm so annoyingly cheery is that i've been re-reading totto-chan and this book is just brilliant in it's poignant simplicity. the idea that such a school existed fills me with the silliest emotion - idealistic hope. like gee, there are so many wonderful things that can and will happen! and you know, totto-chan just reminds me of gennie in all of her exuberance.

i'll miss her a lot when she goes to canada, but i'm so happy that she'll be happy doing her own thing there.

yesterday, i had a good talk with my dad (well, he did most of the talking, as usual) but for those who know, i'm comparatively not that close with my dad and i kinda avoid talking about things that might bristle with him, for obvious reasons. we talked about a constant cause of friction between us - my curfew, or rather, how often i don't curtail to it. talking things through, he said things like how there are many things that i do that he disapproves of, things that he'd rather "forbid" me to do, but he doesn't because he understands and wants me to prove the trust that he's put in me. and it's the little things like that, when he reins in his well, absolute authority even though he doesn't want to, that mean a lot to me. it's kind of thing i'll remember twenty years from now.

and this morning, he picked up my (sort of) essay on what i thought about god, faith and the strange fumbling around that comes with the search for it. i was just about to leave the house, putting on my shoes really, and he was at the gates when he mentioned it. i kind of froze at first, because religion is one of the topics that fall under the To Avoid Talking About With Dad list, because he's so conservative and i don't think he would like hearing more..liberal views coming out of his daughter. but do you know what he said?

"sometimes, i feel that way too."

and maybe, it's that simple statement that made my day because for the first time in a long time, i don't know, i love my dad so much. and it's not often (what an understatement!) that such clear sentiments arise.

Recipe for Surviving Scenarios of Mental Fatigue
- 1 bottle Brand's Chicken Essence
- 1 humongous vitamin B pill
- bananas (avoid heavy carbs because they make me even more sleepy
- assortment of candy, as an uh, compensation for putting in effort not to nap in lessons
- understanding and sympathetic friends who bear with my high-strungness and sometimes, sudden tongue-lashing (thank you zara + stef *sniffles*)

oh bugger it, i've got cranberry stains on my skirt.




speaking of recipes right, i was thinking that the next time we (read: ebs/punsters/whoever) meet up, instead of having another mooovie marathon, let's have a cooking shindig! cos i was reading this person's blog the other day, and that was what they did and it sounds muchos fun. and no, Angry Nugget Men do not count janice. it'll be the awesome - we'll have an appetizer, main course, dessert! mmm.

guh. i'm hungry. i can't stand canteen food no more. they stopped selling brownies because the moe (or some Eville branch of it) decided that no, it is not good to offer the students an avenue for instant gratification. this makes me very unhappy. but by principle only, actually - considering that i never did buy brownies much when they were around. but c'mon! i'm not selfish, THINK OF ALL MY FELLOW FRIENDS WHO ARE SUFFERING FROM BROWNIE WITHDRAWAL.

tis cruel, indeed.

i cannot wait till debate is over, although paradoxically i do hope it won't immediately end post-saturday, for obvious (or not) reasons. you know, when people ask me what cca i'm in, it's easier to say "i'm in debate", rather than

"i'm a debater."

i just find it strange to say the latter. it's the same feeling you get when you tell someone "i'm getting straight As" when you're not, or "i'm a purple hippotami" - it's like a complete lie, or that's how it feels. what a perturbing feeling! i think it's linked to the fact that the debating circle, i think, is a very close and closed thing, and i am such a noob. and most of them are brilliantly competent although this does not exclude them from being friggin' pompous and irritating prats *coughajccough*



















STOPPROCRASTINATINGGETBACKTOWORK

if i'm not careful, this blog is going to turn into one of those SCHOOL-CENTERED ANGSTY WHINING BITCH-FESTS that are so dreary to read.





but it's true laaaaa. i'm so pissed at everything, at this moment right now that you know what would help? Marks & Spencer's milk chocolate buttons that don't melt into a squishy coagulated lump. this, can also be substituted by a volunteer who i willing to be bitch-slapped/shin-kicked by me - so yes, the line starts here, please take a number.

guh!

what is overwhelmingly pissy-offy is that today, was My First Day of Proper School, and it was just horrid. although to be fair, any day is horrid when you've only had THREE FRIGGIN HOURS OF SLEEP.

but you know, to make myself sound less shallow-whiner, i shall pick a Scapegoat to vent my Undirected Angst. today's goat will be: MINAHS.

it's not that i'm just picking on them because i'm senselessly pissed off at nothing okay, it's this thing that has been hovering in my head since monday, and has left me quite perturbed. what happened was that took a cab ride on that afternoon, and Mr. Cabdriver was one of the particularly chatty ones.

so it started out as a conversation about the Importance of Education (i was on the way to school) and how educated people (he said one, not me arh) simply behave differently. somewhere along the line, it got racial, and we, or actuallyhe, went on about the different kinds of malays that he meets as a cabdriver.

he talked about the malay girls that he picks up from boat quay, post-clubbing, and was very hung up on how drunk they were, how young they were, how skimpily they dressed, their tattoos and how that in their drunkeness, they'd sit by the roadside in their short skirts, exposing their pantaloons for all to see.

and all i could do was sit there and squirm, because well, it's true. these stupid friggin minahs are completely without dignity and shame that even the common taxi-driver you know, well, HE KNOWS. it's terribly embarassing to have this low-life pond scum ruining the perception of malays.

i know i'm being very harsh, but i am just so pissed with them.

note: why am i not so pissed with the mats, i don't know. maybe because personally (no offense random reader who might be a malay guy), i've found that generally, malay guys are just dumb. NOT ACADEMICALLY mind you, it's just totally different mindset and wavelength. if i wasn't in such a crappy mood, i'd bother to think up of a better and more apt adjective, but i can't so bear with it.

come on, think about it. when you hear the word malay, what's your first response? i don't know about you, but geez! i think, mats and minahs because they are the dominating demographic in our racial culture. its crap-shit, but damn it's true. which is why i've given up being annoyed with people like bern who call me a minah because oh my god, i wear emo-glasses and am *gasp* malay. automatically, it's easy to assume that because i share a physical resemblance, i am one of the flock.

you give a chinese person emo-glasses, and he's funky, or uh well. emo. i shop/dress with a sub-conscious effort not to look like a bloody friggin minah, because you know, huge disadvantage that i already share the same skin colour. fuck that man.

but that's not the point here. what is hugely disturbing is that it is THE FIRST THING THAT COMES TO MIND. and this is juxtoposed with the politically correct assumption that malays are conservative, mild-mannered and religious enough to bear the discomfort of a headscarf in this bloody weather. the disparity is just so - on particularly bad days, mortifying.

friggin pond scum.


the strange thing of course, is that while i may sound like a moralizing bitch right here and now, i hardly belong to the opposite camp of staunchly religious malays. they're okay, but my peeve with them is how easily they accept what they are told. and sadly, i more than occasionally disagree with what i'm being told, because (and it doesn't have to do with god here), certain things are man-made, and we all know humans are fallible and flawed. i hate dogma.

but that's another rant, for another day.

i've been thinking what being 17 has meant to me after i watched this docu-show on mtv on a couple of famous people when they were 17.

has it been awesome? well, not really, considering how non-descriptish i've been in cjc. but on the other and much happier hand, there's the EBS. a recent conversation with bern who was musing how much more she wants to achieve:

"you're already an over-achiever!"
"but i'm not over-achieving enough -"

and that, is the essence of how i've been this year too.

yesterday i came home from school absolutely and thoroughly zonked.

1045: arrived in school, wandered around wondering where my malay projectmates were.

1055: i embark on a quest to get my mentorship form signed by the principal. after much deliberation and noises of disbelief, i am told that he is not in school and that i should leave the form in school so i can pick them up on monday. "BUT THAT WOULD MEAN I HAVE TO TRAVEL TO SCHOOL ON MONDAY AND I DON'T WANT TO SPEND MORE TIME HERE THAN I HAVE TO", i want to whine, but i resist.

1100: into siberia aka school library to fiddle with portfolio while waiting. had an encounter with art classmate, who's doing major research work on van gogh. you know, reading those huge and dusty tomes. had a burst of procrastination-induced guilt, because i haven't started. the horrors.

1105: Groupmate1 messages - she just woke up.

1120: Groupmate2 messages - he too, just woke up. brilliant.

meanwhile, i'm freezing my bloody arse off, and pondering the age-old question - "what the hell am i doing here?"

1230: Groupmate1 arrives. we work out the project lenghtily, and finish in 20 minutes, in english. it is decided that we shall entask the ardous job of translating our scribble into malay to Groupmember2 who never showed up.

1250: wanders over to the dark (really, it is) shelves of the malay section and pick up a book of malay essays in an attempt to somewhat, prepare for the A Level Malay orals later on.

1255: decide that it is all very boring, and also, that i do not like Malaysian propoganda.

1400: *toddles of to this specially built Teaching Development Center that's quite nicely done, with actually GOOD sculptures around. but, like all school development projects go, this room is apparently only used for aforementioned oral exams*

1405: Groupmate1 realizes that today's exam, is NOT an internal examination hurrah

1440: i screw up my oral paper.

1445: very much dejected, i come across desmond, and wail about the horribility of it. he says he too, horribilified his, but i don't believe him. stupid efficiently bilingual people.

1500: spend more time in siberia with portfolio, reasoning that i certainly won't do it when i get back. i pick another spot to sit that from experience is not as siberia-ish. i expect it's more, canada. gee my library is international.

1645: librarian toddles over, and asks me what i'm doing (illustrating some stuff). she says, "wow other people go out party after exams, you're still here ah." oh this is great, i am OFFICIALLY THE LIBRARY-HOVEL HOBBIT. this will do wonders for my (non-existent social life) i'm sure.

1715: dash out of the library, to make my point that i am NOT A NO LIFER THAT SHE THINKS I AM to the librarian. well, not really.

i spot the principal's huge SUV in the car park. for a moment, i wonder why he has such a huge car when he uh, doesn't have a huge family with all that celibacy shebang. but this means! HE IS IN SCHOOL AND I CAN GET IT SIGNED NOW

1755: i find out that in general office terms, "now" can mean 40 bloody minutes. but it is time well spent! i read three NIE newletters, and discover that trainee teachers are "hip and happening" as seen in the extensive article on their Dinner & Dance. brilliant, old fogeys doing the limbo rock - THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO BE WHEN GROW UP MUM.

1800: goes home

1850: NTUC HAS NOT RESTOCKED ON CRANBERRIES. this makes me very sad, and i literally drag my feet home.

1900: shuffle around home, had dinner, but didn't really eat it.

2030: falls asleep on bedroom floor.

2300: "why are you still in your school uniform?", my very concerned mother asks. she quite obviously, has overlooked the whole collapsing on the floor business.

0500: wake up when handphone alarm goes off. supposed to do art, but hell i'm rebellious and i uh, don't.

0800: wakes up finally after i wear out the Snooze button, with the realization that i have debate later on.





and so, as i dragged myself to school (once more), on the bus, trying to sleep without leaning my head against the grossly head-greasy window, stuck in a traffic jam, I WONDER WHETHER I HAVE BITTEN MORE THAT I CAN CHEW.

this is what it feels like:

*chokes*

because with applying for cap things, and the art exam prepping, and the debate nationals *dies* which is next weekend, which is also the day when we'll be filming the thing for temasek sem, and i really want to be in the video and did i mention, the deadline for the portfolio is the day before my art paper and shit, i shouldn't even be here but i am.

would i want any less? somehow, and god knows why, no. i just really wish they wouldn't co-incide all in one go so that i somehow, can BREATHE.

geez.

(obviously an half-written entry from some time back:)
it is two hours into saturday (02:06AM), and i must say, FRIDAY WAS QUITE WOAH.








as a result, i am currently very much broke. i wonder whether i can open my own charity. it's a good cause you know, kinda like the Feed Izyanti Fund and! it'll make quite a nifty acronym - FIF. everybody knows that in singapore, it's the acronym that makes or breaks you.

the tale behind this of course, is not how i'm contemplating/pondering how to uh, convince mother dearest to give me more allowance for next week. but how i became so broke:

i woke up this morning, at 06:15, five minutes before the alarm on my handphone rang and don't ask me why i'm being so meticulously detailed and anal, just shut up and listen.

with much dread, i dragged myself to switch the bloody thing off. the alarm is undoubtedly very annoying and i suppose this makes it very effective in the whole purpose of uh, waking me up but it also means! that i wake up cranky, and this, is a Bad Thing.

what is also a Bad Thing, were the lit papers that i was sitting for that morning. my mum, being ever so kind, and more importantly, paranoid that the bus might get trapped in a rift in the space-time continuum and that *gasp* i might be late for the exaaams, drove me to school. we arrived, as i predicted, VERY early, and since i had no intention to spend more time in that exam-anxiety drenched institution more than neccesary, we sat in the empty carpark for 15 whole minutes.

at this point, i'm not quite sure why i'm being so inanely detailed but yes. this is not like me *shifty eyes*

the paper came, and passed. i think i pretty much screwed up the blake essay and disturbingly! i don't recall mentioning the word "theme" even ONCE in the whole two essays that i wrote, and this is very perturbing and upsetting and i can just imagine flunking lit omg the end is nigh and all that jazz.

in a spurt of adolescent rebellion, WE DID NOT GO HOME IMMEDIATELY TO STUDY. the horror, indeed. instead, being the hedonists that we are, i actually walked around town with zaratashkai, whereby i then abandoned them with much reluctance to meet the various members of the EBS (that's the Elitist Bastards Squadron, for you stupid people out there) and an Innocent Girl Named Jill. oh and also a Guy Named Terence. who! called! me! a! minah. but because he's the Signifant Other of a person i love very muchly, i suppose i shall not kill him. it's also probably because this particular person ALSO calls me a minah. i just cannot win.

larking around in kinokuniya, is of course a Crucial Bit on outings with the madCAP/EBS. it's a significant point of our Geekhood, i think. so as per usual, there was dissing and defending of local writing, and don't we all know that's very much a circular argument.

the favourite activity of an adolescent i think, is escapism. trooping over to the travel guides section, this we did extensively. you see, after the A Levels, we've been thinking off embarking on a Quest. it would be challenging, gritty and all too unhygienic but honestly, back-packing is the answer before we settle down into the serious humdrum pattern of life. the original plan was what, to take a train up to bangkok, switch to a train going through the Silk Route, across Moscow and poof! landing up in london before taking a plane back to singapore. brilliant.

except that we conveniently forgot that travelling across several continents require oodles of MUNNEY, and i calculated that even if i save a quarter of my allowance every week, i'd only have about $600. which! is why i think i should seriously consider plugging for my own charity. as all conmen would agree, don't steal it from them, make them give it to you.

The Izyanti Needs Your Money Fund, or the INYMF. i suppose FIF (Feed Izyanti Fund) sounds much snazzier, but that would mean i'd have to add in fine print what exactly you'd be feeding. it could be my literal appetite and current fixation on Tropical Skittles, and it could also feed my growing list of art supplies needed. it could feed the Sembawang Music coffers in exchange for the Love Psychedelico cd that i've been looking for, for years. so you see, like all charities, we function by lying by omision. so now that i've been gracious enough to be brutally honest, GIVE ME YOUR MONEY.

*beams*

batman begins was very good. it has cast spiderman and all of his geekiness in its dark shadow, everything was well done. i nearly cried once, and cringed terribly when ALL THAT BRILLIANT GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE BURNT DOWN TO THE GROUND. that could have been the saddest moment, ever. but! that's just me. also, post-watching the movie, i realize that i want a butler.

no, not a maid. i want a nice old man to be a yoda-like figure in my life, without being green, wrinkly and with a warped sense of syntax. because trust me, that's gonna affect my speech habits and very annoying it would be indeed, yes.

i also have to announce that Running Around In Odd And Cheesy Mascot Suit has since been scratched off my list of Things To Do Before I Die. although i would have to admit that i did not manage to do the running around bit very well, so i suppose i shall have to make another attempt at it, hoo!

in the late afternoon on friday, for (this makes me sad) approximately less than a minute, i was a huge and fuzzy droplet of haemoglobin. i think it's quite hilarious.

Things To Do Before I Die
- drive an excavator machine, and dig things with it.
- drive one of those huge field lawnmower things. (i tried to do this last saturday, but sadly was foiled because there were no keys. and yes, i can hear the sighs of relief from all of you! crud.)
- go on tv, pulling of a mad (but non-masochistic) stunt ala MTV Whatever Things!
- take part in a strike/boycott involving huge placards and angry faces. have no idea what cause i shall be Angry about though.
- travel extensively, or at least somewhere aways from *mutters* bloodysoutheastasia
- love. (edit: and be loved, in return)
- have kids. i think.
- be brave or brilliant enough (whichever comes first, i suppose) to publish something despite the clear knowledge that people out there are going to tear it apart largely on the basis that it's Local Writing.
- help put together a theatre production. and no, not as a backstage minion.
- own/drive a vintage 1967 volkswagen beetle

i think that's about it, for now. it's cliche and all, but supposing that (TOUCH WOOD) i die tomorrow, the one thing that i'd be sad about is that i've never loved in that way before.

and also that i studied all the econs for nothing.

so after i became for a moment in my life, a blob of haemoglobin and being Publicly Obnoxious by plopping ourselves down in the middle of nowhere to stone and muse in our typically EBS way, we walked back to town cos i HAD DINNER WITH THE 406 PEOPLE =D.

although i uh, got sidetracked into a burger king and took ages to rip myself away, the dinner went finey-fine/brilliant. it's just the familiar faces, and the old chemistry that we all have. the stupid jokes that we never tire of, yelling out the school song down orchard road with admirable bpghs pride, and of course, the endless camera-whoring. Good Old Times.

now that's what i call a Productive Day. spending time (cue: hallmark moment), with people you looooove. sadly, this involves the expenditure of munneh SO DONATE TO THE FEED IZYANTI FUND TO KEEP HER IN THE LOVELY COMPANY OF THOSE SHE LOVES. ALSO, THE THINGS SHE LOVES. donations will not be returned, because she would have spent it so hah!

william blake kills me.


and so, this is clearly yet another bout of procrastination. this entry is going to be exactly that! i'm leaving this window open, and in moments of boredom (which i suspect, will be terribly often), i'm going to type in a paragraph. THIS WILL BE SO EXCITING, like a single-person roundrobin.

i was reading one of those scholarly criticisms websites earlier on and was its a little disturbing to realize that the words are just washing over you and you have to read the sentences over and over sometimes, to grasp what they're trying to say.
here, have a go:

the Bard's vacillation within the lyric between prophecy and self-doubt mirrors an experiential evolution of the meta-voice behind Songs of Innocence and of Experience which he exemplifies, a progression which "helps us to understand why he now refers to himself as 'Ancient'." "The Voice of the Ancient Bard" 's explicit admission of its status as rhetoric undercuts its function as prophecy and implicates itself as one example of the "folly" it denounces: "At the last, the Bard sees himself aright: as guide in need of guidance, a mental traveller whose prophetic certainty and optimism has been so undermined that 'care' threatens to be his only knowledge."

and it's one of those nice and mildly cool nights and suddenly right, i miss CAP alot. a wave of it, because it reminds me of the nights at Eusoff Hall. very dark, with all the red bricks, which i just realized, is identical to the ones used in my hdb flat. it's really quite vague, but what i do see is shuffling down the stairs after JCDrama, kinda zonked.

and then i saw my pair of (unused) house slippers lying around, and it reminded of 406 days when i shuffled around in class in them because i found my school shoes really stiffling and my mum hated my walking in class with my bare socks because they'd get grimy. so she bought me these grey house slippers and what was wonderful that i didn't feel odd at all wearing them in class. the point here is that i'd never do that in cjc.

and Frente's Bizarre Love Triangle is the song for infatuation.

and the printer has konked out on me again. this time however, it's not doing the irritating Blinking Light Morse Code. oh no, nasty plastic lump is doing the Silent Treatment. which i'm

(and i just sneezed. bless me.)













and clearly, i have a short attention span.

in a burst of morbidity, i am going through this site by a coroner and it's really interesting. like did you know, that the fastest way to get the cadaver's temperature is of course the rectal way. but to be more accurate, they insert a thermometer from an incision on the side into the LIVER. this is great man, not only am i dead, but i have people probing my body with funny sticks! NO WAY. this might be one of the top reasons why i would want to die in au naturale, so that they won't see any reason for me to have to go through an autopsy.

also, "Medical Examiners always make the "down cut" to the left of the belly button when making a Y incision at autopsy. This is done because there is a leftover tendon on the right side from the ambilical cord. They won't cut it to show respect for the way we are born."

also, "the human nose is so fragile that morgue attendants and morticians pinch-up the sheet over the nose. This is done because the pressure of the material on the nose can deform it, flattening or turning it sideways." this implies of course, that MICHAEL JACKSON is not a sick pervert who miraculously got acquited, but that he is even beyond our usual speculations of being unhuman. HE IS A ZOMBIE. it makes complete logical sense, that's why his nose behaves so strangely - it's coming to terms with being ded.

i realized that i have recently been very anal (and no, nothing to do with thermometers and such) in the sense that i have been reaping much pleasure (and man, this really just sounds so wrong) from being neat. when did this dawn on me? when i looked at the notes that i've been writing and feel happy that it's all methodically bulleted and uh, colour co-ordinated. and then in another bout of procrastination, i organized my wardrobe and uh, arranged all my hanging clothes according to COLOUR so that now when you open my wardrobe, it's nicely in a gradient of various shades. and looking at it made me so very HAPPY.

this is quite a cause for concern! because now that i think of it, the other day, i bought my current favourite candy, Tropical Skittles, emptied it into this bowl and with much glee, proceeded to seperate the candy by colour so that it kind of became a pie chart, and then i ate it by colour too. hmm. of course, if i tell my mom about my recent fixation with such anal details, she'd laugh her arse off which! i can't really blame her for, considering the dire state of my room.

here's a nice trip down Nostalgia Lane: http://www.progressiveboink.com/archive/sesamestreet.html! i was going to plug in specifically to nadya huang yanyan, then i realized i got it off her friend's blog, so she's probably already seen it, poop. the point is! seseme's street were good times. before elmo monopolized everything - like who made THAT decision huh. old school muppets were awesome, and the animation was always brilliant and cool, even then. the lovely thing was that it can be so poignant sometimes and there are still many images/skits that are still stuck in my head.

Lovely Things I Remember About Seseme's Street:
- the scene where Oscar the Grouch married, and they were both very cranky and Maria cried. and the bride (i forgot her name, but she was green and furry too) had cold feet, and it was just hilariously beautiful when after the wedding was done, people threw pieces of garbage at them instead of flowers.

- then there was this skit with gordon (this bald black guy) just jogging around new york but it was beautiful because of firstly, the camera-work and secondly, the SOUNDTRACK. i can't remember it now, but i'm sure it must have been good if i can still remember the scene that is seemingly static.

- and the LATINO FLAMINGO seranading maria with opera, below her balcony.

- the parody of cyndi lauper's "girls just wanna have fun" about uh, cereal

- and oh oh! i LOVE this one. it was a short feature about kids going to the beach and building AWESOME sandcastles and everything about it in retrospect, is so poignant from the girl doing the voice-overs and the (rather sad and cold) beach. i still think of this feature everytime i'm at the beach.



thinking about it now, i would want the dvd set of seseme's street. but only the late 80s-early 90s seasons though, because after that it was all crud. maybe because i didn't like the new interpretation of characters *eew elmo* or the INTRODUCTION of new characters. or maybe, i just grew up.

it's 7.17AM, and i have effectively been online for 6 hours 47 minutes, yawned 5 times, scoffed at three supposed lit essays, alarmed how i never noticed the disturbingly strong sexual connotations in a seemingly innocent poem and also, re-read three and a half chapters of DracoSinister.

it's quite a misty morning, and really pretty.

BECAUSE JANICE'S PICTURE-BASED LJ ENTRY MADE ME SO HAPPY:

cue: melodramatic music
My Life, So Far.


Charmaine Lee Yun Hua, Best Friend and Companion Goof-off.

Genevieve Antono, She Who's Going Canada, far far far awaaaay. Great Friends, since 1998.

Lim Yeu Ai, Class Chairperson. Oft cranky. Can be hilariously and unexpectedly lame and yes, strange. Clearly, this is not one of those moments *nods*

Nutty Times, pt.I

Nutty Times, pt.II

Haitian Voodoo, the BPGHS interpretation. What possibly made RMUN bearable (for us), and damn, alotta pricked fingers went into making that stuffed thing. Good times *beams*

Public Humiliation, and Shame! (with AINI AZIDAH, fellow Distant-Farter.) cuh-razee times in the Art Room and (did we do much?), in photography.

Days of Vanity, and going out for the sake of Dressing Up! 'twas lovely, even if it meant that our class(girls) were constantly the dressiest but like omg, we looked good. maaan, have not been a bimbo for so long, since well, CJC. *wails* what has JC life done to me!

simply because i couldn't believe (then), that i was taking a picture with the DM, Tiger Tan Hak Soon, the person who kinda wasted as much of my time, as i did his. nice man, really but nnngh! the cause of much school-related angst because he was the Agent of Herr Hitler aka The True Eville One aka School Principal.

no, Dressing Up-ness does not negate Inherent Nuttiness. we're macadamias, through and through.

...more dressing up, kinda. but hey, at least this production (Woman in Black) was worth going for unlike some stupid school production *coughramayanacough*. and and! it doesn't look like it, but some of us here, are TERRIBLY sunburnt after cleverly spending SEVEN HOURS under the sentosa sun, with no sunblock. i think the rays must have fried our brains.

A Trip To Sentosa (where this time, WE BROUGHT SUNBLOCK). also, a tribute to the defunct monorail, also scarying elderly japanese tourists. also, Finding Our Way Back To The Group Via A Mobile Obstacle Course kiddies, don't try this at home. it's very, dange-lous. (but wait, kids don't have monorails at homes. or do they?)

the abused friend.

because this is sadly, the only decent photo i have of CAP03. 5 days spent, making friends WHO ARE STILL MY FRIENDS TODAY and like whoa, i think that's muchos the awesome. also, very significant because it's the precedent for! CAP05, of course.

where i met! My Favourite PJC Person (alliteration!), Janice. testicles and cockroach love.

(hazri sleeping, when he's not supposed to. everybody knows that sleep time is reserved for plenaries/lectures! duh.) and like, check out my photo-fiddling skills -

VOILA!

doodling yay! the other plenary-activity, once your neck aches too badly from awkward sleeping positions in awkward and stupid chairs. it also distracts you from having to listen to the occasional asinine and insipid speaker. THIS IS A GOOD THING, because it prevents you from throwing solid objects in their direction.

My Favourite Civil Servant! Ms. Lorraine Tham aka thamtham aka Thammie aka Thamster

The Intellectual Writing That We Pretentious Writers Do *snigger*

JC Drama. i think it was just, whoa. from the initial lack of direction and much frustration/angst to the Final Thing, that we actually pulled off.

CAP': where we, as the ElitistBastardSquadron, fully exhausted this year's almost-accidental Teeniegoth and Emokid themes.

i am happy, in this early morning hour. because firstly, i just watched Bubbleboy, and it's just a really nicely executed, heart-warming tale that stars My Favourite Geek, Jake Gylenhaal. also, because flipping through the pictures, i just realize that i miss everybody and that you know, i kinda love everybody and am glad to have them in my lives.

so! i am full of hollywood and nostalgia-created endorphins, and in my books, that;s always a good thing.

look kiddies, it's me again.

i've noticed that i always seem to blog more post-CAP, and it's not just the silly memes either. so! i was skimming through alfian saat's blog (http://alfian.diaryland.com/) and came across and entry when he kinda addressed the issue of being malay and well, tokenism. if that's even a proper word! but not quite the point here -

there are times when the euphoria(?) of getting selected for a programme becomes marred by the notion that perhaps, i was selected because i'm malay and doesn't this country just loves being multi-racial. that i am there not simply for merit, but because it would be in accordance to this need to ensure cultural diversity. it's quite a disturbing thought and you know, it's always been a niggling whisper that i just cannot ignore. i don't even want to go into discussion about the selection process for CAP because it seems rather screwed and very much confusing and as janice probably aptly pointed out, might be something of a drinking game. it's one of life's greatest mysteries.

but then there are clear cases which in retrospect, are quite perturbing. okay fine, i exaggerate - it's only ONE case, and even then, may simply be a product of my paranoia. i got selected (among a few others) for pre-u sem without even going for any of the selection interviews. i always found this rather strange that the teacher picked me because at that time, i wasn't being very vocal in class. but, whatever, i felt, it's a plan B in case my application for CAP doesn't pull through. then the teacher approached me and asked, "How's your malay, izyanti?"

"um, it's all right i suppose."

"what did you get for your O Levels?"

"B3."

"oh that's good. you'll be speaking to the media for pre-u sem -"

"- in malay?? whoa wait - i can't do CONVERSATIONAL MALAY,"

"well, you'll have quite a lot of time to brush up on it then!"

admittedly, the above is *slightly* embellished because this conversation happened what, more than 2 months ago. the point is, i think a huge part of the reason why i got picked is because i represented a minority race and it would be simply too perfect to show that yes, minority races also take part in huge government-aided events such as this! the perfect picture of the singaporean society, i suppose.

do i mind having my race being part of the selection criteria, even if a) it wasn't absolutely intentional b) i suppose it's a form of "positive" discrimination?

yes, i do. i don't want to be a token malay! there simply because it reflects well on the organizers or our society. i'm not saying that i got picked solely for being malay because i'm quite sure that uh, some of my merit was taken into consideration because otherwise, it would be simply ridiculous; and i'm quite sure this rationale follows through in cases for other people as well. it's just that, if i had my idealistic way, this whole race issue wouldn't even be part of it, that's all.

i remember during the opening ceremony for CAP'04, alfian saat was the guest speaker. hazri was there too, and people kept saying things along the line of "omg hazri, you're the next alfian saat", and he got pretty annoyed. i'm not quite sure myself what was the root cause of his bristliness at this comparison since i never got around to asking him and besides, he's probably forgotten by now. i'm just very anal and remember stupid stuff like this. what I think he got so bristly about was that people made the comparisons on the basis that:
a) he's a malay male
b) who writes english poetry
and wow, isn't that exactly like alfian saat. ergo, you are the Next Big Thing.

i guess i'm just lucky there haven't been any prominent malay female english prose-writers.

I MUST STOP TAKING QUIZES AS A METHOD OF PROCRASTINATION. but you should try this anyway, www.http://www.colorquiz.com/. it's rather strange, and took me by mild surprise so it could be entirely accurate, or absolute crud.


Your Existing Situation
Persistent. Demands what she feels to be her due and endeavors to maintain her position intact.

Your Stress Sources
Has an unsatisfied need to ally herself with others whose standards are as high as her own, and to stand out from the herd. This desire for preeminence isolates her and inhibits her readiness to give herself freely. While she wants to surrender and let herself go, she regards this as a weakness which must be resisted. This self-restraint, she feels, will lift her above the rank and file and ensure recognition as a unique and distinctive personality.

okaaaaaay. why am i inhibited again? i don't get this bit.

Your Restrained Characteristics
Demanding and particular in her relations with her partner or those close to her. but careful to avoid open conflict since this might reduce her prospects of realizing her hopes and ideas.
Conditions are such that she will not let herself become intimately involved without making mental reservations.

Your Desired Objective
Seeks affectionate, satisfying and harmonious relationships. Desires an intimate union, in which there is a love, self-sacrifice and mutual trust.

DOESN'T EVERYONE?

Your Actual Problem
Wants to be valued and respected, and seeks this from a close and peaceful association of mutual esteem.

and this is a problem because *shifty eyed*




at this point, i am very much confused. I NEED SELF-ACTUALIZATION AND LOTS OF NAVEL-GAZING ANGST. stupid quiz, i shouldn't have bothered taking it, i am now very much shaken on what exactly *gasp* is my identity. shock shock horror,

!! who am i !!

right i absolutely should not be blogging right now. as expected, my mugging stint at charmaine's has been rather inefficient but hey - I TRIED.

so in a moment of fidgety boredom (econs just does that to you), i picked up the style issue of Juice and me, being a partial bimbo, have always found rather interesting. what got me pissed though, as i flipped through it, was how label-conscious everybody was! it bothers me that your style/street cred is defined by the brand that you're wearing like check me out, i'm wearing bathing ape/diesel/NIKE. i am so cool. I CANNOT STAND IT, AND THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE UNDERGROUND CULTURE IN SINGAPORE. tell me, how different is it from mainstream elitism!

it's a whole new dimension of haute couture and what an entire waste of social consciousness it is. i do get how they want to be different and it is great that these labels offer something that to some degree, is not mass-produced. i understand that absolutely, but what i find irksome is that it is all very pretentious when the level of your "coolness" is defined by how exclusive (read: expensive) your stupid t-shirt is! it's great that what you're wearing is edgy and is a oh i don't know, displays your identity but really, you have to agree that it gets rather ridiculous.

do you see my point.

it is very irritating when people pride themselves for being edgy and non-mainstream for not wearing mainstream stuff, but when in fact, in attitude, they are just as elitist as the paris hilton clone in her burberry mini-skirt.

the question that i have to ask now of course, is am i one myself? obviously not the paris hilton clone or someone just shoot me DED. i suppose i do practice a form of elitism (HAHA) and the only thing stopping me from becoming the people that i have just slammed is the lack of moolah. hahahahahahahaha i laugh at my own hypocrisy - it is just so easy to be sucked into playing the social heirachy without even knowing it. just for your amusement, dear readers, i'm wearing a giordano top and jeans by that brand endorsed by *gasp* F4. so i don't know how elitist i am myself, but i suppose today is one of those days i lapse.

hmm.




charmaine says: *hands up* i admit that i'm a leeeeteeel brand conscious, but maaaaan, to me, spending $1000 on a pair of limited edition jeans is just what a not very bright person with loads of ka-ching would do. Obscure limited edition clothing does not upp your coolness factor, people. And what's with surfwear?! nyeeeah! Its everywhere! It's like this contagious disease which is spreading its tentacles through the ah bengs and the i-wanna-be-cool people. Beware, Ah bengs are currently very clevely cameoflaged under all the quiksilver and ripcurl surfwear brands. Surfwear is taking over the world!! HELP!!! Mmaky. Time for me to shut up. I'm babbling after the over-taxing of my brain through the studying of econs.

for some reason, post-cap, i find myself doing a good many memes. i don't know why, but i suppose it is to keep up the um, degree of community-ish feelings and COCKROACH LOVE. so here it goes!

(from jaaaaanice)
List your current six favorite songs, then pick six other people that have to do the same.

1. green eyes, coldplay
this song reminds me of ginny/harry and it's just so beautiful poignant earnest, and that's how i usually like my songs to be. so gorgeous.

2. the irish keep gate-crashing, the thrills
because i've been looking for this song for eoooooons and i finally had it sent to me yesterday so my love for that person has muchly increased. this was the song that got me hooked on the thrills and the vibe of this band right, it reminds me of days out with charmaine and matthew so yes.

3. under the gun, the killers
because i listened to the killers while mugging for the O levels, and you would think that would bring back the traumatic experience that it was but nope. it reminds me of shivery days in Woodlands Library, sneaking food under the desk, throwing candy over the carrel walls and surviving on mcdonald's tea and cheap junk. i also miss all our mugging buddies and even yeu ai's droopy red converse pullover.
also! it's one of the few the killer's songs that have not been contaminated by mainstream airwaves - at least, i think so. if it has, don't tell me please. i shudder at the thought of OC fans fangirling the killers (and the thrills) *dies*

4. somewhere out there, disney
because An American Tale was one of the ultimate disney movies that i loved and i used to watch it so manymanymany times when i was a kid. i love the fact that watching it now, i realize it has many satirical points and well, they just don't make disney flicks like they used to.

5. memories/telescope eyes/blackened crown, eisley
because i can't make up my mine *sad* it's just very lovely and angsty enough without making you want to slit your wrist. again, gorgeous vocals and an interesting sound. and no, i have not attached any memories to them yet.

6. gravity, bic runga
i love this singer with all my music whore-ness, and i never tired of this song. it's a simplicity and cleaness that the musical arrangement and the vocals in this one that makes me happily calm, i don't know. what would this song remind me of? strolling down a NON-CROWDED orchard road with a good friend, on a cool and slightly cloudy day. or, in the slow euphoria of a crush *coughainiyouknowwhocough*

mmkay i am passing the baton to --
nadya + dhaniah + aini + gennie + matthew (because i still have no idea what music you like) + zara.






also! i will be setting up an LJ solely for music whoring purposes, SO DON'T STRIKE ME DOWN WITH A MIGHTY BOLT OF LIGHTNING O BLOGSPOT POWERS-THAT-BE. meep.

#EDIT: http://www.livejournal.com/~izombiefied/ (sigh)

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. iz! (go turn your head upside-down, it says the same thing like, HOW COOL IS THAT)
2. izy (i don't quite like this one but people persist and i must appease my fans yes.)
3. izyanti and all the mispronounciations that came of it.

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. zombiefied
2. iz
3. - (because i am terribly boring)

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. my sticky-outy elbows because it reminds me of hilariously lovely days of the Covelently-Bonded Sisterhood
2. i like my butt. 'nuff said.
3. mu huge beam-ish smile because it makes me happy.

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON’T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. my nose because it's undefined and
2. my toes are kinda strange
3. my hair because currently, i can't quite decide what to do with it.

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. malay
2. chinese (grandma)
3. i unno pretentious pseudo english-oriented because that's my main functioning mode?

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. not being brilliant and disappointing people
2. having my friendships turn superficial and fake
3. failure

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. a notebook and pen to doodle with
2. my zen micro (although it's having an inferiority complex recently after spending 5 days with iPodPhotos)
3. sleep.

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY NON-ESSENTIAL FOR LIFE ESSENTIALS:
1. candy! recently, blue packet skittles
2. good movies (wait can i really live without them i unno)
3. GP.

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. bp shorts with a white acrylic paint smudge from the art room
2. bp blouse with this funny orange stain from the chem lab
3. uhh underwear.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:
1. THE THRILLS
2. bic runga
3. skin

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS:
1. Comfort of strangers, skin
2. fly me to the moooon, diana krall
3. plug in baby, muse

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. humour
2. honesty
3. love.

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE (in no particular order):
1. i miss everyone
2. i've started mugging
3. i love it at cjc.
note: their more like half-lies and half-truths hmm

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE PREFERRED SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. ncc/ns uniforms. they still do it for me hoohoohoo
2. hands, strong-looking ones. i once stared at this random guy's hands because ok this sounds really pervy and i will shut up now.
3. cheekbones - as opposed to none?? k that's just dumb. i'm just a sucker for beautiful people. *coughdoriangraycough*

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. finding awesome books to love and dedicate my soul to
2. finding awesome bands/music to love and dedicate my soul to
3. infatuation.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. pre-dawn thursday morning in all of its delirium
2. for hazri to sms back so we can confirm tuesday's activities HAZRI ARE YOU READING THIS (aha he just did yay)
3. meet up with everybody i miss although this is verily impossible and i hate that this is so difficult. people i want to meet up with: CHARMAINE GENNIE NADALALA JEANIE VINCENT BERN ELITISTBASTARDSQUADRON DHANIAH SIEW CHING ZARA TASH, LISTEN IZ WANTS YOU!

THREE CAREERS YOU’RE CONSIDERING/YOU’VE CONSIDERED:
1. journalism but i killed this idea ded because i can't stand people editting my writing or having people force me to write things i don't want to
2. writing, but only what and when i want. which means i have to be a tai-tai.
3. i know this kinda overlaps the above, but i really want to do something with design that incorporates my writing or people's writing i don't know. it's all very vague but i would adore doing graphic design/illustration.

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. anywhere with a beautiful beach = serene azure crystal water powdery white sand with no irritating micro-creatures that nibble on you in the water.
2. europe because i want to go to paris and fall in love and visit the louvre, and do all the shakespeare fangirl thing, and listen to people with funny accents
3. i dont' know, anywhere that's not malaysia because that's all i have been too and it's quite sad i know don't laugh.

THREE KID’S NAMES YOU LIKE:
1. Azura
2. can't decide
3. still can't decide.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. create something brilliant and **NEW**
2. requited love
3. experience the whole range of emotions that a human possibly can, i think.

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:
1. i don't mind insects. i don't like cockroaches because i have been brainwashed to consider them unhygienic but yeah, that's it really.
2. i loath pink but then again, pseudopunksters like pink too so i don't know
3. i don't comb my hair.

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A GIRL:
1. i am very very susceptible to infatuation and can be easily reduced to an overwhelming onslaught of endorphins over the most inane things. it's lovely.
2. terribly insecure over the most stupid things and get jealous very easily and am possesive/protective, kinda, over the people i love.
3. i find squishy+slimy creatures so aesthetically offensive that i physically spasm in disgust. especially snails, and their Eville cousins, leaches.

THREE CELEB CRUSHES:
1. ADRIEN BRODY
2. JUDE LAW
3. cassandra claire's draco - even though he's not real and without a definite face. he is just so beautiful.

THREE PEOPLE THAT I WOULD LIKE TO SEE TAKE THIS QUIZ NOW:
1. gennie (because i want to do everything with you before you go canada *WAAAILS*)
2. vincent! because this will drastically change his blogging-frequency statistics
3. siew ching! because i know you sekritly love these mindless memes, don't deny it

The Chronicles of Cockroach Love (the highest form of love).





i return from a five-day sojourn into the realm of pretentious writing and elitism, and the first thing that i want to say is I LOVE JANICE MATTHEW AND HAZRI, and i miss all of us already. i can very eaily say that cap this year was absolutely different from cap03, less nuttier somehow. but you know, thanking my flawed memory and this early morning, it's even easier to say that it was absolutely awesome. yes, the plenaries were generally traumatic, ranging from the irritating and bristling to the merely boring, with the occasional interesting speaker. same for the workshops.

but you know, cap has always been about the people. and as much as i do feel guilty for being so clique-ish, it was satisfyingly fun to be able to crap around with people whom you already click with, rather than awkward socializing and half-baked friendships. i love them dearly *melodrama* and it's very smugly satisfying that we managed to beat the khalwat patrol and all bunked in matthew's for bizarre/deep conversations about love god religion and as the night wore on and sleep deprivation caused much delirium and an increase in usage of profanities, sex and all things perverse. like florophilia, cockroach love and broccoli orgies.

hilariously, brendan and matthew's parody of teeniegoth, became the focal point of CAP. at first, it was just a private joke but after the poetry slam oh my giddy god trousers! after the hysterical laughter subsided, people were reportedly quoting and pouring over the CRUD that they had written. so funny so funny - there's even this guy who has a line of Theatrical Terror as his msn nick! you've got to hand it to brendan and matthew - they have reached new heights of CAPdom hoohoo. the absolutely amusing thing about this whole teeniegoth parody during the poetry slam is of course the other participants (i would say kids, but must be nice and all) read out theirs and it's actual authentic teeniegoth! i laugh of course, partly because i know that i used to write teeniegoth poetry and have only stopped because i REFUSE to write poetry. be thankful everybody.

and jc drama! now that was an intense rollercoaster. it started of quite bad actually, a lot of stalemates and it all felt very static. i know people like matthew and myself put alot of pressure on ourselves and i suppose, took it too seriously but that's because i honestly wanted to do something to the standard of cap03's jc drama which was the Awesome. somehow though, and i'm not quite sure when and how, we pulled it off and all our random images kinda gelled and it was just so beautiful and intense and i really wish someone had video-ed it because to describe it would do no justice to the sensuality and intensity that was achieved. the thing of course is that if the audience was discerning enough to actually poke through, they'd realize that the whole thing was not very coherent at all but hoo! they did not, and general sentiment says that they muchly loved it.

if only cjcdrama was nearly as good. to digress a little, it must be pretty bad here at cjc considering that we managed to come up with something in THREE days and i honestly think, not to be offensive, cjc drama never could. of course, it's largely because we also don't have natalie hennedige (i.e. director of The Necessary Stage aiee), but from my three months in cjcdrama, there's a lack of serious passion to bring a message to the audience. i don't know, that's how i feel.

i also finally experienced the notoriously bad cap food. for five days, i went around with a stomach that chronically felt hollow and also! shat with much more regularity, but not in a good healthy bowel system way, if you see my point. somehow though, all the stomach pains would hit midway through a plenary which then becomes a convenient escape! if you think that i'm exagerrating and that surely, the moe would not *gasp* mistreat us so badly, i tell you this and mark it well! today as i was changing in school out of uniform, i went through a moment of shock and horror because my jeans felt much too tight and um quite difficult to button. "how can it be! i can't have gained weight over cap, that goes against the laws of quantum physics!", and then i realized that they were my 14 YEAR OLD SISTER's jeans (because we have the same pair). the pointy-point of this story is that i lost enough weight to get into a pair of jeans that i previously could not even zip. so the moral of the story here kiddies is that don't bother with the Atkin's diet and signing up for all those "slimming spas". just go for cap and experience the food, and watch all the inches glide of you! side effects may include loss of appetite and shitting cramps.

indeedy. i love cap verily and i will conveniently forget all the not-so-fun moments. i love our Elitist Bastards Squadron, the doodling and the delirous early mornings, where my ditzy alter-ego makes her present known. apparently, i put on this strange accent and just um, make no sense.

cap has gone and passed, and now i have nothing to look forward to and life will just be very very bad and i would find myself a cave to be a reclusive hermit but that would mean i wouldn't be able to for the reunions so i can't. also, no tv and i don't want to miss my indonesion soap opera.

greetings fellow thingamabobs.







it has been a day of nostalgia indeed. but before i delve into that mushy mess, let me state a very obvious thing:

- the botanic gardens is big. VERY BIG. practically running from one end, to the other, repeatedly looking for random information on non-shiny metal signs is NO JOKE. THE ONLY ONE LAUGHING IS ISAAC LIM I.E. BIG KAHUNA OF PHYSICAL TORTURE.

- the botanic gardens has manymanymany trees. annoyingly, they are mostly TEMBUSU TREES when they were supposed to be some other random trees that WE COULD NOT FING AUUGH. *mutters: bloody tembusu trees* too bloody many of them i tell you! also, you would think that after approaching four tem-bloody-su trees, i would be able to recognize it and not bother befriending the fifth. and the next few ones that came along. i blame it on the sun and dehydration.

- which brings me to the point of evian water! WHY WAS IT A WHOPPING $2.60! bloody robbing us blind. although the guy selling it was cute. although he was a bit mat-ish. ah i am such a sucker.

- note to self: do not pair up with a person who also cannot read maps. sorry anisha hurhur.

- even though your mother was a horticulturist, having WORKED at the botanic gardens, bear in mind that it was (shall not mention) years ago, and all possibly relevent and helpful information has since faded from memory. it is therefore useless to call her and try to cheat for answers because FIRSTLY, she will give wrong answers. SECONDLY, she will say, "i'm busy doing the laundry! call me in 10 minutes!". and when you do, she will still be doing the laundry.

- i am muchly sick of scavenger hunts and what-not *sulks* it's lethargy and aching feet packaged into an episodic format of stage 1, stage 2 and you get my point. you think it's so fun. i suppose uhh, a week from now, i will look back and laugh. but as long as my feet ache, and i remember getting lost in some weird bit of construction work, TODAY WILL NOT BE THAT DAY. also! this makes it quite funny considering that i will soon my organizing and planning one. mwahahaha it is time to seek Eville Revenge against the world that is unjustly against me!

now that i am done whining.

i don't quite feel like poking about nostalgia and such. other than the fact that CJC Sports Carnival just doesn't quite feel the same as sports days with bpghs. those always end up quite fun, despite the grimy stadium and cruddy food. there was something missing, and i could only put my finger on it when i was in the bus one the way back. school spirit.

i honestly did not feel ANYTHING today. how strange. i blame it on the fact that we were divided by classes, and not houses. smaller gatherings of people, lesser degree of rabble-rousing maybe. and hardly any cheering at all; how straaaaaange. at bp, even though the cheers were the cliche and off-the-shelf, gosh we yelled our hearts out. i'm not saying today was not fun, it was, some bits. how is it that i can only remember how much fun sports days at bp always turned out to be? that's why the human memeory and can be such an untrustworthy and faulty thing.

and then, we went back to bp to get my o level cert and collect back my art prep. walked around, it felt different and the disconcerting thing was that it was different in the small little ways that made it feel slightly out of sorts. as if someone had tweaked with the configurements. the corridors seem wider, the canteen darker. we trooped back to our old classroom. successfully identified three tables that i occupied, finding pieces of vandalism that i don't even remember doing. dark angsty stuff, that only i know the significance of. you know, along with all the great times, i had a significant number of dark moments at bp and now that i think of it, it seems incredulous.

pathetic even. i cannot remember what got me so upset, and even if i do, can't figure out why it elicited such vivid and expansive a response to it.

the sad thing was, as we all got pushed along by the rapid and brutal train that the o levels was, we all kind of drifted apart despite spending so much time mugging in the library together. i felt it.

i miss the canteen, the art room (that's just not the same without the Distant Fart threesome), our classroom and the benches outside the staff room where i waited for the arrival of tan hak soon. i miss much, and the terrible thing of course, is that this faulty memory of mine makes it seem much better than i think it was.



well that's enough mushy crud for the night.

i have been wanting to update for eons because the last entry makes me feel stupid *shifty eyed*








yes, i got into CAP.

i would be in a more celebratory and elaborative mood if not for the fact that i have YES free time (i can't quite believe it myself) for me to work on the art projects and analyze my favourite-test lit book of the moment, brave new world. also, because i don't trust mrs sng. this is one of the rare occasions where i don't mind it being so blatantly pointed out that i am paranoid and stupid dumdeedumdum.

it turned out to be quite a Fun day. i expected it to be another day of dreariness, "nnnngh i didn't do my homework" and staving off encroaching sleep during lectures.

i watched kai wen (the guy sitting beside me in class) fall asleep in gp tutorial, got yelled at by my malay teacher. deserved it absolutely of course, but after the shock wore off, i have to say it was quite amusing to have a tudung-ed lady yell, "just give me the damn thing!".

i survived the arctic that is lecture theatre 1, endured the rather interesting gp lecture although it annoyingly consisted of a string of supposedly "thought-provoking" questions. i would have said, HELLO I CAN'T THINK, MY BRAIN HAS FROZEN SOLID. but of course, this did not happen because the neurones could not process my vague feelings of unhappiness.








ahh mmkay am off to watch my indonesian soap opera! woohoo emotional rollercoaster conveniently served by tv - hail mindless mass media. 2 hours worth of vindictive cries of "die bitch die", worried "omg is she gonna die is she gonna die" and plaintive "oh you stupid stupid man" - it seems fated that the women will always be Eville or the innocent Matyr. and that the men are always relatively dumb and clueless.

i suppose it is stupid, this fretting and all. and it was mean for me to think nasty, sour grapey thoughts and now that i am much more calm in this 1.04AM daze, i know that i don't mean it.

i'll just have to wait for monday.

but it's eating me. nnngh and i don't want to have to fall back on Plan B - who ever wants to put Plan B into action anyway. that's why it's the SECOND CHOICE, because you don't really want it anyway.

rejection - maybe i shouldn't even talk about it. might jinx it and all. but honestly, WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH? IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE SAYING, THAT BETTER BE NOT WHAT YOU'RE SAYING DAMMIT MR FAHY WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU BETTER HAVE ANSWERS FOR ME MONDAY MORNING OR I WILL DIE. SOMEWHAT. WHO DO YOU THINK YOU PEOPLE ARE, TELLING ME I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH YOU STUPID PIECES OF MONKEY CRUD.

there, just in case (also, made me feel better hoohoo).






and i can't think of anything remotely intelligent else to say. this is a very perturbing trend i've observed. suddenly i'm not doing quite well in school, especially GP comprehensions and debate trainings have been full of me being moronically incoherent and asinine - my favourite word is officially "um". god i feel stupid. maybe my neurones have decided to revolt. or more interestingly, their taking part in a social experiment, to see how i would fumble around with half a brain. i bet their laughing now, eating popcorn. YOU THINK YOU'RE SO SMART, DON'T YOU, YOU BLOODY NEURONES. JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE PART OF MY BRAIN. I TELL YOU, I LIKE MY HAEMOGLOBIN-CARRYING RED BLOOD CELLS MUCH BETTER HAH BECAUSE THEIR CUTE AND SQUISHY IN THEIR BI-CONCAVE NON-NUCLEATED WAY.

i don't even like popcorn.

if you start thinking about it, being generally pissed off is quite a strange thing. when phenomally pissed, especially at nothing in particular, you have the capability to walk up to anybody and give them a bloody good kick in the shin, and not feel guilty for maybe, half an hour.

i am such a pathetic excuse of a sociopath.

because really, i have an innate sense of Goodness that i cannot deny. if i could have it my way, i would fill the world with doves puppies and kittens (conveniently, all toilet-trained) and make sure that there would be rainbows in the sky and i would go around in an organic white cotton toga with my hair quite suddenly a mane of earth goddesness and i will tell everybody: "world peace, my children. world peace." and they will all obey me because i am such a lovely and good person, and then,

I WILL BE THEIR QUEEN AND YOU WILL PAY OBEISANCE TO MY MERE EXISTENCE, O SIMPLE MORTALS OF PATHETIC INSIGNIFICANCE!

look, i have something to love too finally!

my little online hamster. no shit, no pee, no mess. just its adorable little two-dimensional self, adoring the mouse cursor. such simplicity and innocence.












i'm not quite sure why i'm teetering on the emotional side tonight. maybe it's because i FINALLY read Lord of the Flies and it's rawness touched me more than i realized. such a strange thing, to be moved by printed words on paper. maybe it's because i took this online handwriting analysis quiz (don't laugh!) and it's accuracy touched a raw nerve. things that i've been in denial about.

i'm sorry if today's entry is a load of self-indulgent crud. i hope the religion post didn't set the bar up too high, that one was a product of a sporadic burst of..lucidity and rationalized angst.

but this thing here tonight, it's a skim of things i think i want to say. i'm never quite sure really, i don't say much nowadays. i realize that i've become the Listener mostly, and because a) i have nothing of much significance/importance/drama to say, b) it's easier. i've become an inarticulate thing in real life, the horror the horror! everything's answered with indefinite, dismissive phrases that i say for the sake of it. ah yanti, you silly silly thing.

and then, i suppose this could have been the catalyst: i was talking to a certain person today, an absolute friend, and it was an issue that was particularly significant to me. it was actually a relatively rare moment when i was as cliche as it may sound, baring my soul - this is what i am, and this is how i feel. it was that kind of moment.

and she absolutely did not get me. it was as if i was speaking german, or maybe as if i happened to transmorgify into an orang utan. it's not her fault really, but oh god. i think she understood what i was saying (no i'm NOT implying she is a moron), but she could not empathize. did not, could not grasp the emotional significance of what i was saying. maybe she's like that to everybody, in her obstinate way of being absolutely full of conviction for her own opinion that she leaves spare room for the ability to extend empathy. i don't know.

oh i should just shut up.

oh my giddy god trousers.

it seems that everyone is collectively crash-and-burning. it is quite a strange phenomenon and also, quite interesting now that i'm outside looking in, and also, distracts me from the dreadful fact that i am one of them.

an onslaught of work, colliding deadlines, days that are paradoxically too long and too short and of course, the singaporean student's favourite: sleep deprivation.














and it's only april.

what are we to do? somebody better tell the moe about this sudden burst of student-fatigue, so they can send us for talks on Time Management, Balancing Work and Play, and Relieveing Stress that oh thank you god, we can sleep through.

okay today i shall talk about something that does NOT revolve around my stolen handphone, or my momentarily empty stomach, or school-related angst. AND NO, AM NOT PROCRASTINATING. ahh what the hell-o, i cannot deny what is true but BUT, that is not the pointy-point here.

(on a side note: i don't think xiaxue is completely crud but you will never hear my say she is uh, absolutely deserving of the award she won either and bless my short-term memory and possible lack of interest, i can't remember what it was called. she CAN be astute under all the pink webspace and profanities. her ramblings are amoosing, at times. SO!)

i usually avoid discussions about my personal beliefs on religion because as most of you know, i cannot stand any kind of huge, dominating and sweeping organizations who basically the way i see it, dictate a person's life. understanding absolutely of course, that they usually do so with the "it's for your own good, kiddies. listen to me, or suffer in the afterlife", i still find trouble swallowing down what they say without any gristle, so to speak. i shut up about what i think because i don't want to offend people maybe, and ALSO, i think this is it: i don't want to bother provoking people with my opinions in a situation where it is impossible to agree - it is of no point, creating emotional stress and i have enough pimples thank you very much.

and then there is the whole saying it out loud will make my opinion undeniably mine, and there's still a part of me that worries that i metaphorically will be struck down by lightning.

sometimes, i wonder what it's like to be a convert. not the kind who convert because they want to marry but because they FEEL the calling, or what-not. i might envy them i think, because they'd have a certainty that i as of yet, have never felt. i was born into Islam, so it's been part of my life and honestly, i feel nothing. yes i have my faith in god but it's not exactly what you would call strong. being a muslim, it's like breathing air - i've been so accustomed to it that i can't feel it except for the fact that it's there.

it's an unintentionally apathetic state of being. i do realize that i *could* do something about it. revive my faith to searing and soaring heights but this is where my cynicism about large organizations kick in. i still wonder why i resent going to madrasah/religion classes so much.
a) because the textbooks we have are not only in malay, but also leave a lot to be desired when it comes to editing. i have no idea why they keep on repeating the points over and over and over again. one word: hypnopaedia
b) because my parents MAKE me go. in true adolescent fashion, of course i would resent this act of repressing my right to Fuh-reedom haha. i don't think i can accept this reason though because i know it's stupid because after all it is For My Own Good and sooner or later, i will become a good person as a result of all these weekly 3 hour sessions ahahaha.
c) maybe it's because i am so bad at it. the theoretical bits bore me to death, and sometimes hold such archaic schools of thought that it offends me. i cannot memorize the arabic verses because well. i am absolutely lost in the arab lessons i have no idea what is going on.
d) and i think this is it: my mindset is that the teachers i have, would never accept my opinions on controversial issues as what they are. i have a feeling that they would understandably, try to change it. and this annoys me.

there are so many laws in the system of islam and christianity that create so much debate because no one is sure how to interpret or apply it in today's world. like the punishment by stoning in islam legal system and how the laws are manipulated to benefit sexism. the catholic church who did not allow the 9-year old kid to have an abortion. how is it, that in a world that is in shades of gray, would it be logical to use a set of black-and-white rules to govern it? the FACT that religion is not a perfect system makes me distrust it. (note: the organized religion, NOT god.) can i believe what they say, and where they direct me when it is wholly possible that they might be wrong, and why can't i do what i want.

the obvious reason - and i hate answering my own questions - is that this would lead to complete anarchy and people will use their own interpretations for their own selfish uses, and so we are back to square one.

i don't believe in the conventional heaven and hell. not absolutely.

one, why would god, want to inflict eternal pain upon us. honestly, what does He gain from this? it won't make us better people since from what we've been told, the afterlife is The End. and come on, do you think that god, a higher being would resort to fire and physical tortures in the event that He wants to punish us? He created the UNIVERSE and manymanymany things that we still do not understand; give the guy some credit. fire and brimstone is so lame.

and a heaven that promises riches, nubile virgins, palaces and grapes draping from vines. i would expect that the people deserving of heaven, the people who have got There would have been enlightened enough to forgo all these materialistic possesions, no? it would be terribly sad to supposedly have reached the highest stage of personal evolution and still hold this things dear. i would think that heaven would be a place where we would just be simply happy, contented and complete. to be close to god, and be complete - now THAT'S something. and the day when that would be all that i want would be the day i turn into a meditating hermit garbed in thin cotton on a windy peak that would NOT be bukit timah. but it is true nontheless, nothingness is what counts.

WHICH brings me to the point that (i shall tread carefully here) organized religion is highly a human creation. i am NOT SAYING that humans created god, that is just stupid. but i DO think that all the fuss surrounding god, is a product of man. the conventional imagery of heaven and hell are such because we needed something to persuade ourselves to be Good People. that's why it's there, i don't see any reason. all the infuriating dogma and laws there because the people in the organizations are trying their darndest to lead their people as well as they can. it's not their fault i suppose when their well-meaning laws cause trouble instead but i STILL HATE it when their self-righteous.

why can't i just have god, and my conscience. i would like to do good things because i WANT to, not because i want to go to heaven. i would like to avoid doing bad things because i don't want to inflict harm on others. why is that not enough, and why do i still have to subscribe to a whole lot of debatable instructions of how to be a Good Person. if i make a mistake, as i'm sure i will, i will learn from it, and NOT repeat it for the reason that i don't want to. not because i don't want to go to hell.

which is why i think that buddhism (as what i know) as a philosophy is the way to go. it originated as a philosophy anyhoo. the concepts of karmic retribution is elementary and fair. the afterlife ends with nirvana, and not some fairytale story about paradise. it seems to be the most logical, and therefore, most applicable.

and yet, i still feel the need to end this post with a re-affirmation that i am a muslim, with my faith in god and the prophet still intact. but maybe, not anything else.

things that i learn/am told never to do, but still end up doing anyway

- procrastinating

- lying

- spending too much munneh

- not sleeping enough

- reading past writings and worrying terribly about it.
apparently, CAP results are next week and oh so cleverly, in a moment of procrastination, i was fiddling with the junk on my desk and ended up flipping through the portfolio i spent. apart from the usual cringing and what-not, i was quite horrified at finding several grammar mistakes in this prose piece that i wrote in the middle of the night. i finished that piece, as the sun rose up. and aaand i am guessing, the sleep deprivation hangover lasted until the day i handed the portfolio in because in the many times that i read through it, i NEVER spotted it.

and i think i put that particular one first in the portfolios. *dies* gross grammatical errors. maybe i'm over-reacting, but i don't know how fussy this People are - DO YOU? no you don't.

here's a new addition to the above list: - being too paranoid and twitchy.

i would really really rather not go for the pre-u sem. CAPCAPCAPCAPCAPCAPCAPCAP. maybe the People won't notice? *twitch* who are the people anyway! that's what i would want to know.

you know what this teacher of mine said to me? she told me that they had just pit me in the team of pre-u presenters, so i told her maybe she shouldn't because i'm still waiting for the CAP results, and if that gets through (pleasecrossesfingersplease), then i'd be pulling out of pre-u sem. and SHE went: "oh but from past experience, most applicants don't get through."

oh thank you, thank you very very much.








*and pass me your contact numbers via msn/e-mail people! its quite irksome when i on impulse, wish to call/message then realize that i can't because i'm not one of those fuh-reaks with the ability to memorize strings of seemingly random numbers. or you could leave it on my tagboard, but at the risk of attracting Annoying Stalkers of course. but then again, that could be something you might want to make your life uh, more interesting. who knows? i don't. GOODNIGHT AND GOODBYE - will go to sleep before i ramble myself off to sleep.

also! make sure you check out coraline by neil gaiman (yay zara). it is good.

also also! i have just racked up library fines on a book i borrowed, did not like, and didn't even finish. this dislike translated into procrastination, tardiness and cannot-be-bothered-ness. why do i keep doing this to myself. here's a good charity cause! The Pay Off Izyanti's Library Fines Fund - it even has a catchy last two words hoo. it's a finey-finey fine fund to contribute to kiddies, donate jeh-nerezzly so that she can continue scrounging for good books in the musty and smelly sock depths of the library. HAH new addition to the list: - paying library fines for books i did not like, and could not be bothered to finish.

i cannot believe that i am so naive to be still in disbelief that my handphone got stolen.

there are many things wrong with me, in this sense. i came home straight and stoned in front of the tv for what, about 5 hours. there goes all the studying i did in the library haha. let's make a list, whee.

What's Wrong With Me

- how idiotic can i be to leave my handphone (in my pencil case) while i go to the loo for FIVE FRIGGIN MINUTES. i just needed to shit, and came back with my phone GONE. and it's not even a the newestest-new model. oh god i feel so stupid. the horrid thing of course, is that i completely deserve it. one, because i was dumb enough to let my guard down. listen kiddies, the LIBRARY is a dangerous dangerous place. two, it's karmic retribution! for being momentarily bitchy, and and not being a nice person, and i'm still not brave enough to declare to the whole online world why i am such an imperfect person. bring on the fire and brimstone.

- and yet, i cannot help but blame (a little) the people who were sitting JUST beside me. HOW COULD THEY NOT NOTICE SOMEONE DIPPING THEIR HANDS INTO MY PENCIL CASE, that's what i want to know. stupid ajc geeks engrossed in their c maths. and yes, that comment is absolutely uncalled for, and i really don't mean it just let me rant okay. and no, they weren't the ones who took it. the security guy checked them - and i felt so so so horrid for putting them through that. harmless group of fellow muggers. hah I kept apologizing through the whole thing, that's the irony.

- i hate the fact that i bear a significant portion of the blame.

- and me, being completely anal, i'll link a lot of seemingly random things to today's Incident. for example, i will never be able to wear the shirt i'm wearing, or listen to the thrill's Deckchairs and Cigarettes without linking it to today. i cannot help it, i am stupid.

- the stupidly ironic thing is that while walking to the lrt on th eway to the library, i realized i forgot to bring my handphone. and i actually paused, and dithered whether i should walk aaaaaaall the way back, in the drizzle, to get my phone. and i did, for the logical reason of staying contactable. see kiddies, this is a Lesson In Which Being Logical Does Not Pay. if i had not gone back, i wouldn't have had it with me during the short duration at the library and mother dearest would me mildly angry, but if i had gone back, like i did, then mother dearest would be very angry (as she is) and AND, my phone would be with me (as i wish it were).

- and i cannot help but think ridiculous thoughts like, "see i should have stayed home and slacked. this is all because you went out to STUDY - what does this mean? next time, just STAY HOME." and "who asked you to be so geekily enthusiastic, studying in APRIL, pre-emptively reviewing all the econs notes and what-shit. mugging is bad.", anything to avoid the fact that it's my fault. i was mugged while mugging! sorry, i know, tis lame. bear with me.

- i just really really want my phone back. i can't even think about getting a replacement because i am just so caught up in uh, grief. IT IS TRUE. i just want MY phone back. all the contacts, and the funny pictures and videos. all the ones with charmaine being vainpotty and chinese new year@cjc and My First Ever X-Country and the 100Plus Endorsement video and nyiaaargh.




















i feel positively miserable.

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.