386: to know it, and love it for what it is

There was never a greater moment of happiness when I looked at my shadow on the wall while the piano was playing and I was singing at the top of my voice watching everything go by. There was never a bigger smile on my face, and I knew it for sure. The lights were changing and the stage was empty, and all around the voices churned. As somebody fiddled with the camera we leaped across the stage like children, scrawling words into the empty air. Sleepy faces were turned up towards the ceiling. I heard all this music flowing out, into the stage, into our heads and minds. Yet somehow at the other end of the stage hung a deep and pervasive sorrow. There is something tragic in silence, in juxtaposition, in contrast.

There will be no other time like this time. It is one of the greatest things in life, I think — to feel joy, and recognise it, at the very same time.

374: lifelong ambitions (让一切随风)

368: youth’s elixir fills our veins

364: 痛苦的相思忘不了

 

 

361: it’s just rough to stay tough

It’s funny how things never turn out the way you expect them to. And though I’ve said this many times over in the past few months, it probably never really hits you till it should. Where do you go when you’re lonely? Do you remember, that time when we were still in love, and as usual I was being cryptic because I’m retarded like that, and you said, no, I’m not here to gun down romance, but you did anyway, in the end, barely a week later (or two; who remembers?). Slowly the answers to every question matter less and less; there is no point asking why anymore. Why? has no answers, or at least none satisfactory. And finally, the answers die away, in a corner by themselves, like little birds in the winter. 

356: 口上的棉花糖也溶化了

When the curtains closed last night I didn’t know what to think. I sat in my room looking out at the window, but all I saw was my own reflection because the outside was so dark. I think about the construction site and how my friend teased me about opening the curtains, and then I remember how it used not to be there at all, and it always amazes me how fast things change without you even noticing. Can you see the sunset, Sharmila used to ask me, when we were walking from our house to the supermarket, then wearing just slippers and a t-shirt and jeans. As the weather turned colder and our clothes got warmer the site grew and grew and the roof eventually appeared and blocked out the sunset altogether. It’s still not ready yet, and I wonder if it will be by the time I leave, but it’s not the same anymore. 

354: what you are is beautiful

I said, maybe Sally can wait this time. Every time I turn on iTunes and listen to the old songs I’m reminded of why I love music. The other day I had a conversation with someone (who was it, now?) about whether we would still be listening to new music when we were old. Of course, he replied, why not? Our generation is different from our parents’. I thought about it but we’re not so different after all. It’d be weird to find out my parents were listening to MGMT or whatever the equivalent is, and though this generation appears a lot more exposed to music than the previous one, some things, I think, change slowly, if at all.

 

350: all i have is your letter read

“But—but it seems so weak,” said Josephine, breaking down.

“But why not be weak for once, Jug?” argued Constantia, whispering quite fiercely. “If it is weak.” And her pale stare flew from the locked writing table — so safe — to the huge glittering wardrobe, and she began to breathe in a queer, panting way. “Why shouldn’t we be weak for once in our lives, Jug? It’s quite excusable. Let’s be weak — be weak, Jug. It’s much nicer to be weak than to be strong.”  

One of the things I will remember most about my school life is the short story. At certain points in my life random quotes from books will pop out at me at jarringly relevant intervals to remind me just how tellingly accurate literature sometimes is when it comes to observing real life. Sometimes I feel like I should stop living in quotes and books and lyrics of songs and using them to describe how I feel, but yet such words continually touch the human heart and spirit, and it is amazing how literature continues to influence my life.

I remember most all the quotes from that book. The only story I didn’t truly like was The Secret Sharer; every other short story has left an indelible impact on me. And then — that time when I filled in the worksheets, three blanks to fill in the correct words from a quote  — so primary school, but it worked — weak, weak, weak, strong, and it always, always springs to mind whenever I wonder if there is any point in borrowing strength from an invisible source.

But there is. There always is.

347: maybe that something’s gonna happen today

I feel like today has been a peaceful day. After the hubbub of last night, where I remember having dangerous conversations, great chili from Mitch, way too much wine and unnecessary beer, and once again, the frenzy of dancing in a crowd of bodies that have absolutely nothing to do with each other, smudged eyeliner. Strange because I didn’t recognise most people there and was too lazy to make new friends, for the most part. Increasingly I feel rather anti-social and reclusive and all I want to do is hide back in my (now) familiar, cosy room and not come out, especially since the weather this week has been completely uncooperative. Yesterday on my way to school I encountered at least four different weather phenomena in the space of twenty minutes, which sounds impressive but is terrible to get through. It is hard to explain how horrible it feels to have it rain ice when you are trying to cycle your fastest to get to school on time with the howling wind blowing ice right at your face the entire time. My cheeks are still itchy from the cuts. You never really know how much the weather affects your day, mostly because it never really changes in Singapore. In any case, everything is insulated against the weather, and nobody really cares. In view of my upcoming trip to Austria I finally downloaded The Sound of Music, which is possibly my favourite movie of all time and one that I really needed to have watched about three months ago. 

343: i have fought the good fight

There are things I would like you to know, if only you have the time. After all that has been said and done, after all that has come and gone, what matters that is what is left is you and me. Maybe you and me, on two different ends of the earth, maybe you and I, who have been different from the beginning. We have travelled these roads, gone up and down these hills — as uninspiring as they might have been, our journeys are what we make of them. 

How do you feel as you travel through time and space towards a love you cannot save? The train rolls on, and the landscape never changes. Here the skies are dark and wintry, and one barely sees anything through the windows. One makes out the skeletons of trees and the falling snow, grey against the dark ground.

One may ask, 好好的一份爱，怎样会慢慢变坏, but the answer is simple. You remember the times when he said, there will be nothing left if only one side keeps paddling. One is tempted to continually attribute fault to one person, but the fact is that the oars on both sides must move in order to keep the boat moving; and then, more than anything, it must take two hands to clap.

The train is less silent than one expects. In France it was full of Japanese, polite to a fault and quiet as death, whispering around each other, afraid of stepping on someone else’s toes. Here there are murmurs of conversation, muffled laughter, and the sound of little children. Everywhere on trains people sleep and start up again, their heads nodding in time with the jerk of the trains along the rails. If I could, I would whisper my love to you across the tracks, and maybe you would wake up too.

And yet, even if everything is doomed, we take the same chances; and in a warped way, we follow the same paths. We try to not hurt other people as we strive not to hurt ourselves, rejoicing in our youth as we hurtle towards adulthood, drinking in the year as if we were starved of air. Like maniacs we shuttle from place to place, checking off boxes and ticking off sights as we go along, as if each place were so easily explainable, so easily seen. As travelers we brave only the surface of the iceberg, intrepid as we are, and yet what swarms beneath is what is important. What is essential, you remember, is invisible to the eye — it is only in your mind’s eye that you can see rightly.

And then, we paint our pictures in our memories. When we prefer not to take pictures, each detail of every city is absorbed, and we cannot get enough. We struggle to remember everything, as if each day were our last, and we could only breathe that air once. It could be that the people are unfriendly, too friendly, or unnecessarily friendly or unfriendly, but if one is objective one remembers that we do not know enough to judge. All we have are our impressions, and our thoughts, and these are all we have to go on. 

All was good and seemed normal as she walked towards the train that would bring her away, far away from these memories and the things that made her sad. For some it must have been a journey they have made before, towards a future they did not understand. She laughed and joked and smiled, just as she did all this time, brave and strong as she tried to be. As she stepped into the train she waved half-heartedly, as if she knew it might not be the last time that she saw him like this — and yet it was too late when she settled herself, and sat by the window. As she looked out she found no trace of him, and it might have been then she finally realised — neither too early nor too late, perhaps — that there might have been a time when he would wait until she left, but not anymore.

And then — across the rails. The train began to speed towards a new beginning in the middle of the night. Unclear and dark, perhaps, to a girl alone and scared as hell, but still surging forward, the only way she knew how.

 

房子建在海上，就注定一生漂泊. 但连浪子也不会吃回头草. 只要自己能抬得起头往前走，就是对的. 自己问心无愧，光明正大地活着，这才是坚强，这才是力量.

339: remember 2008

The year has been eventful, to say the least. I ushered in the new year at the beginning of the year (last year, now) in a variety of circumstances; every year with the Hwa Chong people, screaming “Happy New Year” at the top of our voices around the swimming pool, and then drinking Raffles beer at the front of Block B, our cars parked in a perfect straight line along the parallel parking lots. I was wearing a red dress, I remember, and the rest were happy and drunken.

333: fireworks in lake michigan

As usual, I have not done anything (much) today. I have an exam on Monday but I’ve barely started studying. This would be better if it were actually graded so I could feel more fear, or written so that I could feel less. As it is, it’s an oral exam. I’m scared shitless and yet not, and my brain is continually pushing waves of apathy towards me. 

331: we can stick around and see this night through

I told someone before that there was no way I was going down the same road again, but it seems that I am, anyway. I’m not making excuses, and who knows how long this will take, and it saddens me a little that I was arrogant enough to think I could overcome it. Because I have, before, and why not this time, right? It’s true; I’m a proud person, and perhaps insanely so. I’ve been brought up to believe that I can do anything, and by extension, if I must do something, it should be something I can do alone. It is perhaps part of being alone all your life; you learn to do things by yourself, or you remain at the bottom of the well. 

Because there is no point in continually dwelling on things I know I cannot change, I am going to try and make myself happy as I possibly can. And yes–there is no point dragging my cumulative luggage with me, though that takes a while to sink in and I probably have to keep telling myself that a million and one times, possibly to no avail. It is hard not to lapse back into the past when I honestly cannot remember the last time I was alone. But on the other hand I am only blind if I do not want to see. I have been talking to K a lot recently, and I am glad he is here; few people are as honest with me as he is, and after all these years, it’s funny how we can pick up where we left off. 

So, the things that made me happy today:

328: i spy with my little eye

Neek sent me a neckwarmer! (: (: 

Her note says:  

“It’s a neckwarmer! (: Can be pulled up on face to keep mouth/nose warm! Yay!”

 

More stupid pictures behind the cut.

326: look what love gave us

These few days have been better, but it might have been all the alcohol.

Everyone is going home soon, and it’s hard to fathom that one semester has already passed us by. In these three months so many things, good and bad, have happened, sometimes changing our lives irreversibly. Whatever it is, whether it’s the people we’ve met or the people who have left or are leaving, this exchange year is shaping up to be an unforgettable one.

322: お前が消えて喜ぶ者にお前のオールをまかせるな

There will be times when I falter, when I lose sight of myself, and what I’m supposed to do. There will be times when I cannot deliver what I promise, times when I don’t tell the truth. There are times when I mock people behind their backs, to their faces, whether I truly mean it or not.

This is me. All of this is me, but I am also other things. And what matters is to know yourself, to know the things that you want and the things you don’t want, to keep looking straight ahead, at the future, even though past mistakes don’t disappear.

When God closes the door, somewhere he opens the window. I’m not everything anyone wants me to be, but I have strength, and courage, and hope, and lots and lots of friends who love me. I know that if I keep believing, things will definitely change.

And whatever happens, you save yourself, or you remain unsaved.

318: excerpts from the various notes strewn around the bedroom of april connolly, february 24 1997

‘Why I should leave… no – Why I’m leaving you for him. Well, let’s see here… well, let’s see; where should I begin? Every night you get annihilated with all your friends, and every night I drink alone until you stumble home wanting some – like some fuck and run. I know you sleep around, I see it in the eyes of those girls. Those fucking girls… they smile and nod, but never offer a single word – I’m just in the way – I’m the ball and chain, you’re the jailbird chirping, “Wow hard life is in the cage!”, how hard it is waking up next to me. Well, you’ve dug this hole, come on and fill me up. When you said you loved me I knew I was getting fucked. You said you’d never let go – all that stopped… you used to turn me on, now we’re just getting off. That’s why i’m leaving you.’

And the drunken erratic response from April’s ex-boyfriend Trevor Post, upon finding said various notes:

You really, really think this guy is gonna make it all right? You told me you could never be in love with another man, “Oh, but this one is it!” But I remember when we met we knew that this was the end. Yeah, I remember – I remember everything – the haircuts, the dollar movies. We used to sneak a six pack in your bag, and wait for a girl to scream or a car to crash so we could crack open our cans. Or the time you shaved my head in the front yard; a passerby stopped to take a picture – we ended up in the paper. And now you want to leave? Well, maybe I forgot a couple things, it doesn’t mean I don’t remember how it feels when you’re lying naked next to me. Valentine, I want to feel your hips pressed up against mine. We’ll push into each other – love’s alive. It might be fleeting, but it’s ours and it’s tonight… so won’t you reconsider love-lost lives? You might be lonely, but I’m still by your side. You might have to leave, but not tonight.

— Cursive

313: i swam across, i jumped across for you

So. Last weekend we went to Utrecht, with 5 other people from various countries. We met up with Gary, Zhiming and Crystal, who’d just arrived that week. It was lots and lots of fun. Utrecht is a beautiful old city, and because it was really the first of stereotypical Netherlands that we saw, it was great. There are lots of canals, boats, people cycling… 

I almost didn’t go, though, because I didn’t eat breakfast and we were late, so we cycled hard and fast to the train station. Then I felt really dizzy and couldn’t walk straight, and ended up sitting down on the floor after awhile and eventually missed our scheduled train. We did manage to get on one 20 minutes later, after Val forced chocolate down my throat, but I still felt queasy till we actually got to Utrecht and ate some breakfast. Hmm.

311: cos i’m coming home again

All this cycling home half-drunk is bound to take a toll on us one day.

For the less experienced among us, I have already crashed into a wall and fallen off trying to mount a kerb with my bike while trying to bike home while high just now.

Apparently this is quite a common occurrence. That I only ended up with a bleeding shin is a blessing in itself.

309: see your shoes and your spirits rise

Before we all know it, I’ve been here for more than a week. Over these few days there have been so many happenings, so many parties, so many exciting things to tell. From the first week of meeting new people and crazy random parties with lots and lots (and lots) of drinking, to cooking totally random food in the kitchen, we’ve also changed our housemate. He used to be an American who smoked weed all day and stayed on the top floor, but he moved out because of the rent and now we have a new Iranian housemate whose wife is coming to stay with him starting sometime this week. He is also Muslim, so we are having to deal with all this at one go. 

308: quick drive-by post

This is generally just to say:

I CAN CYCLE NOW!!!!! XD

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Today the bus home took an hour. The next challenge is how to cycle home. And then how to cycle home in the rain. And then how to cycle home in the rain in winter.

305: 天下无不散之宴席

Last Friday–my last Friday here in a year. 

Pictures behind the cut.

298: i don’t know where we are going now

This is how it is; young people are wistful. Young people like to lean on a tree and pretend they are old, as if being 21 is a great weight on their shoulders, and we suffer in order to be able to carry it, and carry on. We tremble with the weight of our youth as we look up into the sky. 

We make friends; we drift apart. We think we run in the same circles when maybe we don’t, not anymore. There are things that pass us by, including time, that nobody realises, not until it’s too late. When we meet again, we’ll talk about life since then (maybe talk about why, and did it ever end?), we’ll bump into each other at our usual coffee place, with different people now, the same conversation, and the same painful itch at the heart. 

Sometimes we mourn our losses. Other times we don’t know that they’ve gone. When we do realise, maybe we feel sad, or maybe we feel nothing at all. There is a downcast look (or three), but we pick ourselves up and go back to the person in front of us. This is here. This is now. We keep saying this to ourselves. We look across the vast field of our youth and convince ourselves there is a long way more to go; yes we can afford to lose some, because we can’t win everything. Perhaps as we think we grow older our perspectives change. We become used to things; we may not welcome them always, but we can always find a way to explain everything away. Reason. They always say that if you are thinking too much, it is a sign you are getting old.

Maybe the young think about different things. Maybe they don’t. How much of us has changed is open to doubt. Some things are immutable, and everyone, or maybe no one, has been this concerned about love. Life, friendship, staying in touch. Keeping people with you. 

How much remains the same; that is the scariest question.

282: 写真を撮って、いいですか？

Just a quick post: in Yokohama now, heading to Osaka tomorrow morning.

Everybody loves Japan, yes? I am no exception. I wish I could stay here forever, but we all know that’s not possible. However I thoroughly indulged my fangirl self ogling cute boys everywhere (and the girls are so pretty) including random Kanjani8 Nissin Cup Noodle advertisements in the subway, caved in and bought two KAT-TUN DVDs (haha did you know Johnny’s Entertainment has their own separate section in HMV?) and a magazine (the one where the photo below appears) while my boyfriend dragged me all across Harajuku and Shibuya shopping and looking for his weird obscure underground shops. Oh, and he bought about half of Uniqlo as well. Also, I have overheard more conversations about the merits of Akanishi vs Kamenashi vs random Japanese celebrity from girls with their boyfriends than I can count. Starbucks is freaking everywhere.

Today was good: Yokohama is a pretty place. Pictures when I come back; the night lights are beautiful. I’ve also sat more rollercoasters than I can count, including the ones in Disneyland (the parade was magical omg, but I got sunburnt haha) and some random super drop rollercoaster in Yokohama today, in a free theme park no less!

Lots of food. Ate orgasmic sushi at Tsukiji it’s like food porn. Really can die.　And my Japanese is super bad it’s so embarrassing.

More when I get internet again.

280: just like a graham greene novel

All this hate and love; it’s soft, it’s hooey.
There’s only things, Blackie.