i hate reading books with the movie-version covers. For eg. about a boy. i'm reading NickHornby's About a Boy because its by hornby and cos i probably might like it and cos it may be good Hence the movie based on it. i'm not reading about a boy (starring hugh grant) , movie tie-in. exactly. i do not read movie tie-ins! it's not like i'm reading x-3, or stealth (the movie-tie-in books). this gives me a huge dilemma when it comes to atonement. i want to read it before i watch it but i can't be seen reading a keiraknightlymoviecover version of the book. (and i want to watch it not cos there's keira in it.) and i want to read it not because i'm jumping on the Best Picture Nominee bandwagon but because it's a good book by IanMcEwan. help. life is full of unsolvable issues.

in any case:

Person: what's about a boy about?..
me: ..a boy.

bad joke repeated many times to many Persons. although they usually miss the point and think it's a homosexual paedophilic novel, not "unlike" the previous book i was reading. which i described as a lesbian book so i guess, really, i asked for it. But really, i dont think there's a need to defend the dignity of say, Winterson, to them.

muahaha. hows that for an uncaring face. take that! i will rule the world! which reminds me i should get down to watching FightClub

ok looking back this is such an evil rant that i wrote on a whim. although i just told a friend today that whims are never really that forgivable because they probably spring from the tempted subconscious, hence there is intent anyway. maybe i should delete this post.

Nah

everyone likes to have answers: why this happens, what we should do, etc. and even answers as to why people are the way they are. i realize the hardest questions are those about yourself. because i can't tell the truth if i don't know it in the first place

that day i woke up in camp at night, (while doing orderly duty) and i swear i heard the rats having a squeaking conversation. which stopped once i rubbed the sleep from my eyes

Mollie: all right put your garbage here
Alfie: It's a potluck? how come no-one told me? I didn't bring anything
Roy: i told you last night. why don't we get cheese anymore
Mollie: nobody brings cheese to camp, roy
Alfie: Rats, someone's awake
Mollie: (squeak sqeak)
Roy: (squeak)

i kinda believe in horoscopes sometimes; today's said i would spend my time dreaming of bigger things. and i really was lying in bed doing that for an hour. or wait, did i create my own horoscope in my mind? its a self fulfiling prophecy.

anyway there are apparently so many things i wanna do. this this this this and that. wrote it down on a post-it with self-belief, though i know it'll probably end up like the hundreds that came before it: lost, and forgotten. story of my life i guess- dreams on post-its, torn off to make way for the next sheet.

at the very least this random entry will serve to remind me (during one of those self-indulgent nostalgic trips down the archives of this blog, probably) of the things i said i'll do, and if a search for this most recent Post-It ends up in failure, may it spark another in return

omg the syntax and bad phrasing ok forget it-

this is weird, and i dont like to declare infatuations easily, but, i think i'm in love with the girl in the macdonalds ad. hahahaha. and i think its cos her eyes tell a story. i know: i've known eyes that have told me stories; fairytales built on clouds. (till it rained) I tell everyone about people whose eyes tell stories, and they laugh it off most of the time

At the lift lobby downstairs there was this balding man who was visibly agitated because of how slow the lift was taking to arrive - he kept muttering and jabbing at the lift button. when the lift arrived, i glanced at this woman who gave me a raised-eyebrow-look ("are you sure?"), and entered the lift with this man. In the span of the 8 storeys he travelled,

he launched into this whole tirade about how "lifts are slow, traffic lights are slow, everything is slow and only prices go up. i call this mahbowtan ah. what is this gahmen doing the Dpm only care about overseas overseas only go suzhou to look at pretty girls..." etc etc etc x 10 at very fast speed.

my first true slice of political frustration. cool! i was blown away

I sleep quite a lot lately. it's not much of a remedy, but it'll do for now. It's escapism in its simplest form; a way to keep the ghost of memories at bay, at night, when the only sounds are those in your head

I used to like this time of the year. A time when all that newspapers features are look-backs on the past year, in individualized sections. grouped into movies, home, sports etc so we can take stock in a more organized manner. A way of looking back in a nostalgic, oh-man-i-remember-that, laugh-at-ourselves way. It gives you an option: easy and simple. Count your blessings, understand your worldviews, look back on the world on an annual, calendar-year basis. It's reassuring, to know that the media and the hardworking journalists (which now includes two friends) have done it for you: diligently divided the year into the Best and Worst of 2007, subcategoried, ready-with-opinions, for easy digestion.

But then you realize that the packaged look-back was of the world, and not yours. And that's where you have to come in: you are Supposed to look back on your year, think about it, (you dont' necessarily have to come to conclusions), be motivated enough to come up with New Year Resolutions, and then when all that is done, take out your party hats and poppers, and celebrate the New Year.

I think it's terrifying. I don't know if taking stock on a calendar-year basis is the best way actually: for me maybe my 'year' started when i ended my jc life, or started the nS one, or when my hair grew back. And should i sub-divide my year into aspects of family,relationships,art,material purchases. Maybe some people look back on photos, others may look back on the movies that acted as distance-markers for themselves ( when stardust came out it meant i was 3/4 through 2007; the invasion meant august or september). And I actually know of someone who might just do that, considering the number of movies she watches. I don't know how i'm supposed to look back on my year. I don't even have a diary, and it appears blog entries are too sporadic to mean anything. Although they do mark the sporadic and unscheduled moments. And random musings. Ok see let's skip that,

Or if my year should be 'taken-stock' of at all. Isn't life supposed to be one giant flowing stream of what-not, pulling you along? I know its been dragging me along. As I'm stumbling and tumbling. And i think that's where i am right now: lost, but life doesn't spare me, and pulls me by the collar nonetheless, demanding that i herald the new year with everyone else. Nonetheless is such a definitive word to describe life. It messes up, nonetheless. Nonetheless, it's beautiful in its ways. It moves on, nonetheless. Nonetheless, my grammar still sceams for improvement. But,

Nonetheless, have a happy new year

I think i need to live in a tv-drama. where things fall apart for 3 episodes, but are rescued by a series of one-liners. where company arrives when you're alone on a bench by the beach. where emotion is displayed on faces; steel faces show a hint of a smile, eyes narrow in non-pent up anger. where music kicks in from the background: Oasis, The killers, Jem, U2, during a montage of nice moments. and the camera zooms out on a happy end to the episode. where things fall apart for 3 episodes but are rescued by one-liners

to the person on the train with Avril Lav1nge on his ringtone:

HEY HEY YOU YOU I don't like your ringtone
NO WAY NO WAY you should get a new one

another moment on the mrt: the train jerked a couple of times during its journey and people started stumbling(tumbling). a collision of sorts. different sorts of people. and smiles revealed themselves everywhere; smiles from stranger to stranger, apologetic for crashing into each other. a brief collision where everyone connected: simply as commuters on the train after a hard day.

e-donuts??? must be cyber food. fancy! kind of like the Creme de la Mushroom they serve us at co0khouses. no thanks to mushroom soup thanks

the technician lifestyle has pervaded into my tumultuous dreams. i dreamt that i was telling this guy i could fix that hose

me: can fix la, just pull the cache !
(image of a coupling, with a pull-able cache)

i wake up, switch on the bedside light, go behind my computer, touch the wires, and contemplate pulling one out. i get a rude snap back to reality and go back to bed, thinking:

what the hell????

i'm serious! oh no....