It is the total futility of a life not worth leading that fuels the lunar cycles of madness. The sheer unhappiness of a single fleeting moment, illuminated by the hope of seeing the lover again. Better days ahead to look for. The embrace that traps but secure, with the golden touches of soft liberation sets me free. Vast lands, deep kisses, the warm hearth of an eternal fire.. I live in the distant future, refusing to be trapped in this blinding pain of reality.
Today.
I’d rather be caged up, to be a metaphor of incarceration. I’d trade it all to be liberated from the punishment of this existentialist torture. In a world of fools, they crucify those they cannot understand.
Classé dans : Non classé
Caleb says that my black eyeliner is too creepy. But he’s a sweetheart to drive all the way down to Orchard from BTC because that idiot Leon bailed out on us. And also forgot to tell me that Caleb couldn’t make it. Oh well, had much fun meeting up with pleasant, unexpected people though. Caleb, think of the most expensive restaurant ever and we’ll make Leon treat us there. I am serious. Forbidden city at Clark Quay will probably be it and other over priced restaurants along the river are good choices as well. As you can see, I am quite the vindictive person. Especially when I get stood up.
Anyhow, I’m going to bed. Ciao ciao.
Solitude. Such wanton lacking of it in Singapore. Everywhere, people shove and bump into each other; the streets too narrow for regret. The spacious cafetaria in school, clumped with little enclaves of students dotting the circumference of each table staring and being stared at while they eat.
It’s tiresome, college is. And on wednesdays when I dont have classes, I feel less exhausted being alone. Stares weigh me down and having a friendly disposition is just tenacious.
I am swamped with so much work and it’s only the first week. Expectations and the hope of doing well preoccupy my mind while the effort towards reaching these goals make up a significant quotient of my time. The rest of it, while not devoted to reading is spent on well, reading.
Tonight, I have Milan Kundera for company.
Dear XXX,
I am hereby writing in the hopes of doing an additional module of the code LAF1201 – French 1, for the lecture classes. This is in light of being unable to both bid and appeal for this course through the CORS system. In the advent of my academic circumstances, it is crucial that I take this module this semester because my other modules are fairly lighter than the ones I will be doing in the remaining 3 semesters ahead prior to my graduation. I will be doing CBMs ( course based modules ) and ISMs ( Independent studies modules ) which are in line with the USP curriculum. I also need to do 6 modules in one of my remaining semesters of NUS in order to graduate on time. Hence, with only 5 relatively easy modules this semester and a prior basic knowledge in the French language, I find it pertinent that I should be allowed to take this module. I was unable to bid for this module in the previous rounds for 2 reasons. The first being that I was only allowed to bid on 5 modules at a time for the earlier rounds and have done so for the more important ones. Secondly, French as we all know, is very popular in NUS and thus I fell short of being able to bid in the later rounds as all the places were taken up.
I feel that, in the consideration of such grave circumstances, I deserve a place in French 1. My tight schedule of 5 other modules permits me only to spare time for Group number 5. I trust that as the respected individuals you are, will give me a place in French 1. I believe the university is a place for great learning and that everyone should be given a fair advantage even in lieu of disadvantaging circumstances. I am writing to you with great urgency because this will have much bearing on my grades. I implore of you to help as best as you can. Below is the original message of rejection sent to me by the good people of CORS appeal, in case any reference is required on your side.
Sincerely,
Natalie
Fate is in our hands.
So I’ve always liked to believe until in a twist of jarring coincidence, I jokingly brought up the subject to a friend and he listed out the characteristics of Scorpio which.. reluctant as I am to say, describes me to uncanny pin point accuracy.
http://www.psychicguild.com/horoscopes_zodiac.php
If by any chance, you are lacking diligence to even navigate on the mouse pointer, here’s a much truncated version of my emotional development according to the constellations. I sound like a nutjob saying that but here goes:
Life pursuit: to survive against all opposition
Secret desire: to truimph
Reputation: Most powerful zodiac
Other characteristics
- struggles between the dichotomy between power of love and the love of power
- winners
- wise
- embodying creatures : scorpion, eagle & the pheonix
- passion, desire and power go hand in hand
- contradictory nature
Their dark side:
- beware of their brooding,there’s likely to be some kind of storm brewing
- unlikely to forgive and forget
Don’t mess with me. I bite 
That said, I refuse to believe in all that hogwash because ‘accurate’ readings tend to stand out more. Human beings, in a stark display of solidarity, seek out similarities in situations & people.
I’ve been quite the peevish person lately, brooding at home over the national holiday and being even more of a recluse. The thought of classes starting next week obviously does nothing to lift my spirits. I refuse to believe that my gpa is an accurate reflection of my true capabilities. And so in this disenchantment, I’ve decided that the academic system is just another institutional corporation. Another messy affair that will be forgotten when I eventually find a job that recognizes my talents for their merits.
In my defense, some good came out of this pithy period of self-pity. Nik and I became better friends, surpassing the acquaintance mark. I’ve always been somewhat taciturn in Patrick’s house, unwilling to partake ( oh the tenacity! ) in the solidarity of socialization that seemed to draw everyone but me. Instead I spend long hours infront of a static screen , poring over The Economist or doing housework which I immersed myself in. I also got tired of being incessantly complained of, like an ill behaved child petulant and incapable of decorum. Instead I prefer to indulge in silence and remain a puzzle, than to be misunderstood and crucified.
It’s so fun being able to read his poems and have my prose read — a sacred exchange, highly valuable in an epoch where poetry is critiqued & seldom written. I just had to introduce him to Alfian Sa’at whose works I love and courage, revere. If anything is good about singa-bore at all, it would be him. It is with dedication and cruel amusement that I had to put my favorite stanza from The Merlion on hotmail messenger this National Day.
what a riddle, this lesser brother of the Sphinx
what sibling polarity, how its sister’s lips are sealed
with self knowledge and how its own jaws
clamp open in self-doubt, still
surprised after all these years.
