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Monday, May 31, 2004 ( 10:39:00 PM ) elle's i want to be cheery again. and not thinking. i want to swim, in the sea, and in a pool. the sun is some where but i havent seen it. i want to watch swan lake city, and a lot of other things. ma was good, tiring, slowly incomprehensible for the first half hour. but dance takes on a new meaning. i want to shop. i want to do Something, geez this is insane. before i get this sedentary, before i start melting down. i want to do something, just something, that is going to tire me out. to make up for all the sleep i've gotten, the slowly-coming books i havent read. hello, please club me on the head. there is chocolate in the fridge that i am missing. you remind me so nicely . ( 9:39:00 PM ) elle's ive gotten tired of saying things. endless platitudes and my own blindness. today i saw all his bitterness and all his insecurity manifested so, childish like a little boy's pout. im not saying anything bad about you. i remember being angry like this, and ashamed later on, i remember times before when ive thought about how im better than you, im not, im not and ive only known this now. all we feel just feels so inane. i was thinking. why pretend to be feeling any less inadequate, i am just as bad as you. this force-fitting, this self-prescribed mould, where the heck did you come from. and what if there is no way else. im caught up with the self and all its gratification, i could never feel for you as acutely as i do for myself. hello. coming to terms with my own self-centredness. this is what comes from sleeping all day, drinking dinner from a cup. watching his desperation, it just made me scared. we are all out of control. i need something to spin on. you remind me so nicely . Sunday, May 30, 2004 ( 12:02:00 AM ) elle's figures. i dont know how to deal either. you remind me so nicely . Saturday, May 29, 2004 ( 11:28:00 PM ) elle's the family day things they do. are cute. mahjong and hammocks and little kids running around. and while i am there i think of how i dont really want to lose this. cotton wool familiarity. i keep thinking about beating myself up. im done moping and i just feel like an asshole now. some times when i talk to them i wonder what i am saying. its something that flows from within, i wonder how weird it all sounds to their ears. im just being honest, im just being full of myself here. i am sorry. because mind games are second nature. some times i try looking at myself through your eyes. i feel so skewed. there are the times when i cant tell if it is the me in your eyes, or the you in mine. i dont want any more conclusions, about anything. every thing you decide comes with a responsibility, and i dont want to have to care that much about anything. guilt flows fast and easy, with me. a lot of the things i do dont represent me, but i do them any way. because of you, yous. if i didnt have to care about all of that i could be such a different person. but what i am is a piece of ever-versatile clay. i am blaming you, but i am not. i am just being honest here, and already what this tells me about myself jumps back into my face. i wont say i am self aware, it is a trap i never want to fall into. some times i am pissed with myself, because of things i have brought upon myself. hello world, i am an idealist and it feels like i dont belong here. erratic wavelengths. xinyi bought me chocolate, gina wrote a new song, why you fuck yourself up. and then i want to be drunk again, intoxicated with many many things. i want to fly away from here. i want to be inspired. you remind me so nicely . ( 12:24:00 AM ) elle's and just so you remember, ella, other things happened today: choo said the wiring and sensitivity where language concerned transcends the language itself. not a problem. i saw a good script, moderate acting, close-to-bad directing. hard material in this context, with all the contexts. no Artistry involved. sudden new regard for gary tang, for sticking to his guns. he didnt call today. scared that he's angry or disillusioned, and it is my fault. discovered gastric. sabrina ng said i look just like some girl from fear factor. im curious, and i wonder how they are able to be so freelance-laidback. because she calls me el, and that was when i was still numb and not thinking about it. never mind. and the rain was fucking beautiful today, along with the sky aflame and downcast all at the same time. it is still raining on the other side of my street. wanted to slap my brother for all his arrogance. but its almost akin to slapping myself. i miss playing in the rain. and happy things. and exercising. and ive said the word fuck more than ten times today. im sorry if i have offended you, i will try harder. i know it hasnt. but this isnt working. right now it feels like the whole day has been like that, when i know there have been hours with me laughing and smiling and being normal. it takes ten seconds to screw up my day, i will remember it forever. you remind me so nicely . Friday, May 28, 2004 ( 11:36:00 PM ) elle's leftover steam from high school drama im not angry now like i was a few hours ago. a few hours ago things were fresh and undistracted in my mind, and i had a clearer picture of what i was crying about. it is not about being weak, it is about me, being angry, pissing off at myself, at things. Things. i try to imagine what you might tell me, and i dont know. i believe, and i still believe. but what the fuck do i know. it feels like sec one. but with no One More Year to make things okay for myself, no more second chance. it takes me one second to get things right, and another one second to get them all wrong. i still believe, but that doesnt really matter, does it? i dont want to sound like a brat. more than anything i am just angry at myself. more than anything i wish... i had been forced. i told fong: it's probably a small thing, but it's big to me. it's big because of how i riled myself up, it's big because this time i believed and i felt like i was ready and all of a sudden i am being told to give up. the way he told me then that i ought give up before. the way i have been psychoing myself lately, the way i have told myself that this time everything goes, this time i am willing. fuck i feel cheated, and cheated by myself. it is big because it is something that i really want to do. it is a score to settle with myself, and no one else. im angry. im not angry at my coach, but i wish there was a way to say... something that would change something. i dont know what way to take this. i dont know whether to hope, dont know if i am blowing things up and out of proportion. i am taking the toys i have with me now, the facts: i want to learn to chuai. i am not going to, ever. i am probably still going to go for competition. i want to scream, i want to know which way i am supposed to take this. part of me wants to refuse to back down, and i hear zhang in my head telling me how i could lose the team's trophy for us all. well. renyi is hope now. i want to know if what i am thinking, all my million assumptions are any where near accurate. and even if they arent, and things are all the best, it is that one last bit that pits me against myself. lose, lose. i hate this battle more than any other, where i have to watch myself over and over, getting down on my knees and succumbing. i dont want to submit and i dont want to screw things up for my teamates, and if you tell me now that the one has to happen for the other, everything will be okay again. but the rest of the afternoon i have chugged three continuous drinks at random crying and stalling and getting angry and stalling and feeling normal and stalling and i have not been able to imagine what you might say. still can not. dont want to say it. and how i felt, like such, such a big drama queen. because this is probably small. but big to me, huge, gargantuan. how the fuck do i make myself uncare? the last time i looked into my reflection it was seven post-afternoon and i said out loud are you done moping. you remind me so nicely . Thursday, May 27, 2004 ( 9:58:00 PM ) elle's i want to see: the local art scene. im not the shawl and strawberries kind of girl. i dont believe things are defined in any one way. but i want to be there, i want to be challenged again. i want to watch something subversive, that i may never understand. of course i am waiting for you again. this is practically tradition, the vicious cycles of awkwardness and passion and sudden understanding and all that yearning. all that Yearning. i will never be able to change my mental picture of you, you have to shock him dead first. i felt bad when i let you down. you make it sound like i've been making you think, lately. and... just dont. dont let me affect you, dont let me change a thing. you make me feel like things have blown up in your face, and it is my fault. talk to me, please do, but dont listen to a word i say. i talk... like i know what i am saying, i talk about the way i want my life to be lived. im not going to say, let me enforce this on you. i have never vented on you. you should know... that's quite a something, considering how long i've known you. no patience for ordinary things, no regard for anything else. i am a disgusting person all the time, let's at least not pretend. the last line in the comic panel still makes me laugh: maybe they're not very self aware. i want how it felt, balled up on a window ledge like that. staring out into a dismal nothing, slow moving traffic, endless people without faces. i saw that smile today, the surface of so many things, too many things. did you know. one moment can last forever, salted in your mind. instant replay, a thousand tokens. and then more. you remind me so nicely . Tuesday, May 25, 2004 ( 8:58:00 PM ) elle's it is all just in my head. as is everything, and all the people i have known. living and inconsequential, a swipe of radar. i feel like i am perpetually playing these little girl games. hide and seek, in floral dresses. ma's heels and talcum powder for magic dust. pretending to be... whatever it is. like screwed up is in my blood, like i am coded for stupidity. come, come hither, i am just too insane. just a thought. i know, you dont liked to be used. and sorry for snapping at you today sam. you remind me so nicely . ( 8:15:00 PM ) elle's like breaths in between us. made of paper and the smallest things. the way things coil themselves into messes around my throat, right here and now, and righ under our noses. the way i react. the way you do things. the way i cant shake the smallest of nagging doubts, where you are concerned. you will find me, it is easy. i dont want to sound like. i have known you inside out. i want to sound like the drumsticks tapping, dropped just before the start of the song, shakedown 1979. the things you have.. decided about me, those i have decided about myself. being seen through like this, being so relentlessly believed. as restless as we are, are you better than you faked it? or how you would, anyway, preening and sophisticated. that pathetic. i crane my neck and stare at her for hours, a one-off chance and i cant get you out of my mind. i really cant. tell me, tell me now. before i cant trust myself with you, anymore. and you'd wanna call me. now, and talk for hours. you remind me so nicely . Monday, May 24, 2004 ( 1:31:00 AM ) elle's weicong makes me laugh things that i would only admit, to weicong, at one-thirty am in the morning you remind me so nicely . Sunday, May 23, 2004 ( 11:28:00 PM ) elle's so much i want to say right now, all that baggage to unload. killing me, but not. i dont want to be pathetic, i would never forgive myself. all over again. sometimes i think id like to watch it burn. you remind me so nicely . ( 10:42:00 PM ) elle's what was it that candy says. were you being secretly ironic? things id like to say i have been strong i have been true i have not sold out i have no reason to say i am sorry to you you have been the first i have had no regrets i have never given up i have had hope from the start i have not been stupid about you i will be able to forget this i will abe able to forgive this i have been constant i have not been despicable i have not been pathetic i dont know what it feels like i have not been waiting i have not been stupid about this i will always be there for you this doesnt change a thing i have been strong where you are concerned i have been strong and i have been true im gonna watch the bluebirds fly over my shoulder im gonna watch them pass me by maybe when im older what do you think id see if i could walk away from here? you remind me so nicely . Saturday, May 22, 2004 ( 11:19:00 PM ) elle's there is honey and there is juice, there is my brother's pending eighteenth, michelle's bicycle in my garage. i feel like going right back to sleep again. training got me down, coz it's the first time in two weeks and its pathetic how it feels now, touching the tram. cant even do two minutes of beiji or twenty vsits without feeling it, in the air it feels perpetually like i am full of loose and shifting sands. i cant do this, but today i promised myself that from now on im going to train myself insane from now on. i paid fifty cents today. for a song i didnt get to hear. in a jukebox in a deli in a hotel. november rain, and not thinking at all. since i collasped from exhaustion the minute i got home, things have drawn themselves a complete blank where everything else is concerned. in my dreams she spilt her soul all over my fingertips, a photograph, a poem, something i could never imagine in any one else but me; either it is the me myself, or i have looked around me and come to just so many preconceived conclusions. i want to know what it is in people that codes for pride, for jealousy, for pretences. i keep thinking about how i dont want to have to work so hard at something that seems so... ultimately pointless. there is no more drive for people, people just dont seem worth the time. but when i woke up i think i started thinking again, and i dont know how it went on from there. how much it bothers me when i let it slide. and unjade me, too, because nothing seems worth it any more. literature isnt one of those things you can do on different wavelengths, and that is all i gained from the seminar. how she is nice, but how really i think of the word cool and it just makes me want to laugh and laugh and laugh. midday half-hysterics, what a waste of time. you remind me so nicely . Wednesday, May 19, 2004 ( 9:39:00 PM ) elle's i wrote a poem about you, the five seconds i have been alone. i write over the words that are already there, because nothing brings back the feeling, nothing is ever exactly the same, twice. when i attempt to capture it with words, it is like trying to cage a smell in a box. never mind what they say about being contrived, i cannot face this feeling that justice has not been done, by myself. i wish i were in a movie theatre, instead of sitting here not studying. i have had enough of not studying, because i do nothing else all day, because i truly have said that this is the last inconsequential exam we will have to take. it feels like the exams are over, and there are new things to choke over. when training resumes it is like, two weeks worth of bleeding, flesh peeled back off festering wounds, flood-gates opened a new. this is how much i am looking forward to it. like a bullet, you have to bite. my weakness of spirit, of willpower. when she said your name. things inside jumped. i want to see your face. too much praying someone feels the same. i want to listen to that one song, right now. because every thing is said, and it floats in my mind, what it all implicates. how things between us make no sense at all, but at least more than what it is with the rest of them. my incongruency. i keep playing things over and over in my head. i wonder if you feel like you fit in completely, i wonder if that is an issue any more. my unwillingness to give myself up, to compromise. i can pretend but i wont. because i am not fooling myself, there are still corners that stick themselves out in my mind. reminding me that ive sold out. some days i ask my self if this what it Is, or if this is just what people settle for. is it me, or is it you. alien or at home? what am i asking for: absolutely nothing. when i am thinking: too much, or not enough? who are you to say, say anything at all. we best both be silent. or else it is a completely different language. you remind me so nicely . Monday, May 17, 2004 ( 8:29:00 PM ) elle's dino. i keep thinking. she's wearing your shirt today. remember the one you leant over me to see. how things started. how things started, and how i have not been able to forget. because. just because. there is nothing to it. you remind me so nicely . Sunday, May 16, 2004 ( 11:08:00 PM ) elle's some days. everything feels ridiculous. looks and sounds. i want to know what i should be hearing, in my head. im afraid of myself, what i am going to do to myself. make myself become. no one else to blame. but today is okay. i promised fong id study three chapters of chem. i think of kuo and how he will flare while marking the scripts. i think about the house that is still in a mess, the clothes that ma must have hung for me, because when i got home they werent in the machine. hung up like kidneys in a row. when i weigh it out: chem, life, chem, life. no competition. we're made out of blood and rust. who are you running away with, what are you running for. what are you running for. i think of you, and i dont feel sorry about it. it is no different from your point of view. i think. some times i take kevin for granted. like he will always be there, a small and undemanding voice. im sorry, if you're even here, if you'd ever admit it. im sorry. i really miss my 8250. not my baby, but my friend. my freaking pal. im not the sort of person who goes for kittens or small little children. or shiny things. but things beautiful, made beautiful, for what they are. battered, resilient. there is no price-tag you can put, on these things. i want to know someone who plays music. i want to talk to you. i want to know how it is, that you are a wielder of emotion. things that i dont feel. because. i dont want to feel. sometimes, anyway. you know these stages i go through? some times they are like snapshots, that chronicle my state of mind. but i dont want to know anymore. maybe it is the new found company, i dont know. thinking more about relationships than i have in the last four years, i dont know. i want to go to a rock concert. with someone, who feels for the music like i do. gee im not saying i do, im just saying. i could lose myself to it, could you? freaking drum beats freaking synth. there are different kinds of music i listen to, and this is one of them. now i am thinking again, open door policy, girl dont freaking think so much. like drawing a breath and forgetting how to breathe. fifteen minutes. chem. you remind me so nicely . ( 5:29:00 PM ) elle's so, while the midyears have slowly come crashing down on my head, this entire weekend has just been one long and nonstop Hangout, with nothing that i feel (right now) to be regretted. cluedo, pizza, sneaking into the pool. lots of senseless ice cream. i feel like... days have been going so fast now, i feel like i ought take a deep breath of someone else's cigarette smoke, sit down for a moment and try not to pass out. i need, to think, like i needed to think this morning when i left the sanctuary for a new favourite place, i needed to be alone. i need to think like it felt like this morning, when i woke up from my dream confused and strangely comfortable, i am thinking, it is watching trashy american serials on tv, it is spending time with people who perpetually have stars in their eyes. what am i. i dreamt that i was married and living in china, though some where along the line the entire scene seemed to flip upside down and i wound up in a place that looked like australia, or pakistan, with a big building that made me think of malay. i think i was married, and then i think i wasnt, but he was malay, reminded me of dino. or the archery guy too. the streets in the sign were in chinese, i remember wandering into one of those commercial junky trinket stores, the kind where they sell mashimaroes and winnie-the-poohs. i wanted to buy something for him, and not, because he felt like a stranger sleeping in my bed, and so much more alive when he was out on his own. i felt like the lost in translation girl. and when i woke up i didnt want to, i wanted to go back to sleep to find out what would happen. i dont know how to say it, because i am not the kind of person who dreams like that, i am not the sort of person who might. i... steal glances while keeping my head bowed to the floor, but everything inside my head is whirling in the maddest ways. driven crazy. since you've gone, i've been lost without a trace. i thought of dino. anyway. im trying to forget, but no im not. im trying to... push it slowly down to the back of my head, so i can study. but it is a big and churning thought, trapped in a bubble that is big and thick as rubber. not going to go away. i had big plans at least for the afternoon, and thought about even what i was going to wear out to run (my favourite running shirt), and how i was going to clear out my room and my head and my life, and study too and everything else. so much for big plans, so much for sleep, which is the unblinking friend who robs you blind, in broad daylight or whenever it is you invite it in. i have not given up on the coming week of midyears, but it's been coming, while i have been not. places are still in a mess: my head, my room, my life. im going to stop thinking now. you remind me so nicely . Tuesday, May 11, 2004 ( 9:24:00 PM ) elle's this has completely gone to the dogs. you remind me so nicely . Monday, May 10, 2004 ( 11:26:00 AM ) elle's dear polaroid girl how often do you get nervous breakdowns? what do the aftermaths feel like to you? like mine? like being constricted and fragile, or like the entire world is on the brink of explosion? inside your head? like being trapped in a slab of concrete, like you are walking forever and ever and ever? like you are dead, and eternity has left you your senses, when there is nothing left to feel anymore. like you are tired, but you can never sleep again? like ou need to vomit, and turn your insides out, like you want to scream... but you can't? you cant. i want to know. what ou do. can't shake it off. want to ask, do you ever find peace? or does the feeling fade and find itself forgotten, undealt with, unreal, even, later on. unreal. and then what happens, what happens then? does God help? not prescribed, like a pill. but can you feel Him there, holding your hand? do you, do you trust Him? do you feel cheated, sometimes. alone and afraid, afraid to think about it, of wha it does to you. trapped in an abyss, standing on nothing. looking up at nothing, nothing you can get out of it for. no other side to cross to. like the rest of the world is purely... fantasical, lewd and elaborate. things are calm, calm to the point of being almost hysterical. where boundaries blur, and everything merges into one. do they feel fake. do you change your mind every five seconds, or faster? does it feel contrived. written. because that's how it feels sometimes, like it is just me, here, wallowing. do you tell me, is it just not sleeping a night, and pumping caffeine through your veins? emotional hysterics the night before, never really dealt with, never really brought to a close. chucked and blocked out, but like a panic brewing, so close to the surface, like a hurricane ready to spring. sometimes do you think about religion, and feel like betrayal? or lost, or... i dont know what. when i woke up i just wanted to blank out my mind again, because thinking and thinking just made it worse. like the past present and eternity revealed to you, so astounding it blows your mind. i want the feeling to go away, i want a certainty i dont know how to impose upon myself. like everything you have ever known could just be unreal? unreal. this is what i feel like, right now, and it is not just school. it is not the midyears, which to me right now are tiny and insignificant, what is making its way up my throat is the entirety of my existence. my religion. i feel a sort of frantic calmness, i feel like i am sinking sinking, and i dont know if i am reaching out to the surface, or hugging a stone in my arms, refusing to let go. dragging myself to the bottom, smooth and deliberated. deliberated. i want to know. self imposed? you remind me so nicely . Sunday, May 09, 2004 ( 7:03:00 PM ) elle's i want to play in a band, yearning accoustic music. someone full of feeling, that is not me. a head and a belief, who eats on the go. fast food. low low maintainence. my favourite thing to wear. my baggy jeans and my marijuana shirt. and my orange jacket, and sneaks. like i am ready to run, like i am ready to do it all. no maintainence. you remind me so nicely . ( 6:47:00 PM ) elle's this is gun, this is gun to foot. this time it is stress, but this time i have not been studying. i dont care, but i care, but i have no energy. i have malt tea. i have people around me who i feel like smacking, for being so convinced. Convinced. and i think: i want to get out of here. the Stress Test, my high score, has nothing to do with my exams. fuck this. feels like im defending myself, and im not. i want to listen to loud loud music, i want to tell her to stop simplifying me, i will not be contained. i will not be contained. but it is nothing of the sort, it is nothing you will understand. somewhere before... dont know what. something about how aquarius, or some other inane fashion of branding, how we want to be understood, but dont want to be understood. can you understand that? when i say some things around you, i know you will never understand my context. but if i say it to her, there is nothing in the world that is clearer. there are people i want to be around, because with them i feel like i... am myself. and not, but at least better than this. when i see her poodling around you... it makes me sick. that could have been me, either side. i wake up at five a-m and my mind is the clearest. i feel like climbing to the top of my roof just to see the sky, in its entirety. instead i go back to sleep, instead i take a dive into christl's pool, and never wake up again. that's what i dreamt about. because it feels like heaven is under the water, and i am drowning in something cool and clean and clear. i want to feel clear. my worst nightmare, is the one where i am caught in a slab of concrete, and i can not move. i can not move. i smell of oil, random things. an interest in food. you remind me so nicely . Saturday, May 08, 2004 ( 12:30:00 AM ) elle's muscle twitches again, four years and bad habits. i dont want to do the nanzhongquan tomorrow, though tis been fun, fooling around with the others. i cant find my previous motivations to study, because i dont know what they are any more. it's australia, i think, because i watched my sister tear in bitterness over not having enough money. turn us out onto the streets, ma. we have got to learn independence. blueprints was a disappointment, because the director should be shot. i want to watch something good over the weekend, but people are telling me to study. i try to find reasons why i can not write anymore, i have been thinking about this for months. now i want to be wrong about myself again, while previously it was a desperation to get to here. no more drama in my life. i was pressing my forehead against the library window and i decided that the more your learn, the more you see, the more you're conscious, and it's a bad thing. i just want the feeling, is that too much to ask? i could hear the squeak of the swings, but i looked away for a second and then they were all gone, all gone. the trees scared me, because i thought about them folding over the roads like that, dense and choked and overpoweringly permanent; deliberate, and the thought made me feel like i had been curled up into a little ball, arms and legs at the oddest of angles, fastened there with masking tape. all over. mummy-ball. i want to study filmatography. i talked with michelle while we huddled through streets in the autumn nights of what is now her home, and she told me how most directors usually start as actors anyway. how, live your life, because it's Your Life, it's nobody else's. michelle, i really knew that a long time ago. i am waking up now, and telling myself that i have sold out. pathetic. i will never be a big sister, to my big sister. and it bothers me, to not be able to let her know what it feels like. to never be able to say something as interesting as her. i know that's not true, because the scathing thing she's got going for her, i've had that going for me too. once in a while. what i said to kuo that day starting sounding so rehearsed, because i dont believe lines should be used more than once, and impromptu. though it made me laugh that day, because his lip curled even before id hit the end of my sentence. it is a funny face, he has. i like blatant people, and making myself laugh. unabashed. and i wanted to lie flat on my back in the middle of the quadrangle today. sparse and stoic amidst the schoolgirl drama, the high school politics. i sat cross-legged on the stage and closed my eyes to listen to everything going on around me. if i am quiet enough, i can hear her ardent voice, i can hear every sound that rings through the entire building. everything for miles around, the hum of traffic, the whir of the underground. the creak of continents moving together, the huge and beckoning silence that is the end of time, the end of space. somewhere in a deep blue funk. but instead i hear... normal things, the shrieks and screams of schoolgirls, lots of far off conversation. and something inside me pipes up: why so constantly look for things long away, when something is happening in the here, in the now. when time is slowing right beneath your feet? i want to... stumble upon myself, inadvertedly doing something. typing messages that tell me about myself. i want to meet interesting people. sorely lacking over here. i am prejudiced, against my own country, i admit it. but no one has surprised me yet, not even me. i keep thinking, fucking selling out. but fucking need money, too. im thinking about that, even now. my sister waited tables on her degree. met the gandalf guy on the job, but that's just a one-off, shot in the blue. want to be financially independent, want to stop living hand to foot or hand to mouth of whatever it was that ma calls me when i run my atm to the last cent. brat brat brat. stop spending money that isnt yours, you should know it doesnt grow on trees. i remember how you used to say i was angry. angry little child, angry little baby. i feel like i am not angry anymore, you would think that means that i could live for real. instead the change has completely displaced me, instead i am yearning for more familiar ground. blind, and then blind, again and again and again. feels zen, like peishan's essay a long time off, oh look my toes are burning. i remember that. there is a word for this new sensation. but i can't place it. you remind me so nicely . Friday, May 07, 2004 ( 4:51:00 PM ) elle's i. i dont know. these days alternate. no crafting, no surprises. everything i think and feel just seems so surreal, questionable. these days i think i am watching myself do things, like in daytona games. some times it is from the top view, and i can see the next million things that are about to happen. the entire universe, its careful ticking. other times its the one where you're looking out onto the track, this corner of the eye to corner of the eye view. i dont know what i am doing. yesterday i wandered around the school barefoot, waiting for training to start. fuck scared, because it came to a point where i had to draw up lists to calm myself down. or not calm, because calm is not a correct state of mind. i feel hollow, like the thick bamboo poles on a wind chime. meaningless, ornamentary. some times, i am watching myself explore, and the feeling scares me because i do not want it around. i want. to feel. less artificial about my senses. poetry just feels so far away. it is... forever being in limbo, like sitting in the canteen just blankly passing time. when did i step off my world, and into what is real. and i am scared, because i am afraid that these days do not go away. i grow up feeling nothing, and it is worse than being angry, or sad, or bitter, or jaded. i stop fighting, i let things fade because i do not stop them, i do not halt my steps, i am the one leaving and i am not turning around. i can feel them go, there is nothing left in me any more. i am scared, that i am scared to feel, anymore. that i have keeled over in the face of institutionalization, prescribed like pills, like o level marking schemes and the secrets to success. in any thing. prescribed, i dont want. i dont want to be safe, any more than i want to be caged. and it feels like... this individualistic sense of What Is gets in the way of everytihng. some of the best things i have ever done have been done in my sleep, but my subconscious has deserted or me, or has lost some epic battle. i have been rooting for you, because there is no other way i could be, and be whole. there is no way... it is like trying to see the world through the soles of your feet, or trying to imagine ten minutes of silence. i want to hear silence again,the way it was the day i stayed over at fong's house, because right then it was as if the whole world didnt exist and never existed in the first place. i want to be... that calm, that alive, juxtaposed with the rest of the world. things have started to twist before my eyes, and there are rules, rules to everything. i have reached a conclusion, and i want to go back to being naive. to making all the stupid mistakes, over and over again. these days emotions start and stop at zero, so i want to sleep all my time away. you remind me so nicely . Tuesday, May 04, 2004 ( 8:50:00 PM ) elle's two days ago so it rained again, today, and while i sat out there with my two cups of tea and myself watching the raindrops dance and disappear, eliz walked by looking like she’d been doing something I would do, sneaking out of the sanctuary looking for a place to sleep. I don’t know, I don’t know her at all. But just those few seconds felt so disarmingly familiar, and the rapid reflexes on both side of the river, the faked smiles and the placid tones of voice. matter-of-fact. Like a murderer casually wiping the blood off his butcher knife, talking to the lone witness about the weather. that's what it felt like. so i was thinking today. staring out at the rain while zjs droned on inside that i've completely lost the writing temperment, for the longest time. the polaroid girl... she has too, maybe, everytime i see her face on the screen it just feels so weak and contrived. she feels that too, maybe, maybe she feels just like me. and i can't help but wonder... did we ever have anthing going for us in the first place? or maybe it was just a brooding fantasy in our minds, self-obsessed pictures of ourselves. when i read her lately, either she is bland or the poetry just flies right over my head. i keep thinking, you need a shot of bovril, and i couldnt know why something so chronically retarded like that crosses my mind. retarded is a word from the streets anyway, close to what we are both becoming. i dont want to go there. like her, and how she lathers it on with vodka, painfully loaded a million times over, done to death a million times more. that's why, i think i've gotten bored of you, because we've become so very predictable, which is different, very different, from being consistently volatile. sometimes it makes me think... we're not adequately unstable, not enough everyday unhappiness festering in our heads or hearts. which further brings me to... what's it worth? how much is it worth, is it worth it? i dont know how that notion makes me feel, this writer's block that i hope will go, that hits me some and i worry that tis permanent.i suppose it was all so emotional, but then it was something that at least we could wield. you know? but nothing goes, these days, nothing goes at all. anyway. while i was watching the rain i though too of elsie and that night during camp, because i want that feeling again, the feeling of being inspired, of being enlightened, of being so fluidly part of the entire world, it's like a liberation from gravity, from physical boundaries, from institutionalized and orthodox practicality. the methodical and presecribed logic. i think that is what's been happened, to me. and i've lost all forms of passion, all brands of impulsiveness, having been patted on the back for reigning them in. i never want to buckle, to say that i have stopped fighting, but i am so afraid of what has inadvertedly been done. by me. lost too, contemplative langour. i tried to imagine a slower lifestyle, waiting five whole minutes for the computer to boot up. some how in my mind the ideals have flourished beyond evergreen and run away without me in it. day dreams with legs, that have left me behind. you remind me so nicely . Saturday, May 01, 2004 ( 11:43:00 PM ) elle's i want. a picture, of you, with your eyes open wide. your mouth just ajar, your finger over your lips, not touching, but just almost. your lips, and the blankness in your face, like the the world just froze and you werent part of it. hold that pose, so we can be candid, so we can be silent. silence is an art, silence is just like you. and together our limbs weigh two tonnes, maybe more. drying up, here. you remind me so nicely . |
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