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do you remember my frog heart? |
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Tuesday, August 31, 2004 ( 12:22:00 AM ) elle's Were you floored by all the praise that "Lost in Translation" got? Yeah. Writing an original screenplay made me wonder if I was being completely indulgent. You think, Does anybody care about these things that I'm writing about? You've been thinking about this one little area of life. You never know who it will connect with. -Sofia Coppola, taken from Newsweek, February 9, 2004 you remind me so nicely . Monday, August 30, 2004 ( 8:50:00 PM ) elle's just listen to the rhythm of a gentle bosa nova you'll be dancing with em long before the night is over happy again the lights are much brighter there you can forget all your trouble forget all your care, and go downtown; where all the lights are bright downtown; waiting for you, tonight downtown you're gonna be alright, now you remind me so nicely . Saturday, August 28, 2004 ( 8:27:00 PM ) elle's i. scared, to sleep, of myself. because my dreams grow increasingly disturbed. searched the net, cant find a single interpretation of murder that is positive, or neutral, or doesnt scare me. forced myself to put it to words, pen and paper becomes less out-of-control, but im scared and i cant back it off, because...because they say dreams represent a part of you and i believe that, because i feel too familiar with what happens in my dreams, like they are experiences of my own mind, because it feels like i am trapped and will go on being trapped and not even knowing it, because i do believe dreams are a message from your subconscious, because also because i let it get to me like this, again and again, i'll induce something else and something continuous, i need to stop brooding and maybe it will go away. i need to learn to lucid dream again. you remind me so nicely . Friday, August 27, 2004 ( 12:57:00 AM ) elle's (i dont want you to use me to be happy) this monkey can't stand to see you black and blue you remind me so nicely . Thursday, August 26, 2004 ( 8:29:00 PM ) elle's here comes the cold i think. maybe wish it upon myself. instead, C16H13ClN2O. if you know it well enough you can always give me a call. and i dont ever wanna feel, like i did that day someone sings it to me: leave all this misery behind i really get the feeling that you hate my guts. but i still like arguing with you because you're an obstacle and you're a challenge, so much more than most the others. and if i made you feel uncomfortable that day, i am sorry. you remind me so nicely . Wednesday, August 25, 2004 ( 2:43:00 AM ) elle's platform machine, the kind you might find at a factory. gears and bolts and metal parts, a slow crumble from the inside. hello. i think i thought i was getting better, and i think that is why i snapped when she told me, you see too deeply into things, do you think in a very complicate manner? i can't remember the last person who has said that to me, but i can remember a lot of people who have, at some point in time. some days. i think i am chained to perpetual brokenness, rickety at best, some days i think i am another kingshaw, dont know how the heck to crack out of it. crack out of it please. and i feel destined for dysfunctionality, and i dont want to be like this i really dont dont dont, when you break down once in a long long time everything just comes rushing back to you, you go back to square one and beyond, it's like you cant pick yourself up anymore, because every other effort has fallen flat and failed. i need to talk to someone who might understand, but there is, less than nobody. you remind me so nicely . Monday, August 23, 2004 ( 1:01:00 AM ) elle's and i think what bothers you about me is that you know what it feels like to be exactly where i stand. im not that stupid, you know. i know i act like it, but i guess, maybe just like you. im not. i only want to bother you because you remind me so much of me. you remind me so nicely . Sunday, August 22, 2004 ( 8:05:00 PM ) elle's i feel like im slow-bombing, almost inevitable, like the long drop down after stepping off a cliff. haven't talked to you for days, months, years. how are you? and all the relationships in my dreams are dysfunctional. you go girl. if i hadnt gotten out before, i would have wanted you to be the one to be there, welcoming me home. long-drawn waves and frantic smiles of helplessness, the threads of your facade worn a little too thin. and if i would be predictable, i wouldnt be this. you remind me so nicely . Monday, August 16, 2004 ( 1:34:00 AM ) elle's dreamt dreams, stay up late. sometimes i wonder, what is it you say about me? it scares me because you see the more than one side of me, it scares me because you could be the one to force me to be honest, break up my facade. WHEN IS TRAMPOLINE OLYMPICS? i dont want to have to explain myself. i hate how there is just so much excess baggage, it makes it hard for me start a anew. im awful shit with first impressions, whatever it is they told you. and i dont really think i am misunderstood, because everything anyone has ever said about me has been at least in one way true. i dont want to have to explain myself, how can i make excuses for something i abhor, how can i explain something i dont myself understand? all i know is that i am the most ephemeral person i know, the most convincingly tempermental. and i guess that was when i stopped caring what people thought of me. i told ma about laoshi and kuan's comparing us to normal tech kids, and she said something about it's because in a way we're two groups of Misfits, being out of the mainstream, so we react with distraction to a system calibrated for the masses. that's who we are, we're the misfits. i want to learn my adiv tao, i want to jump i want to jump i have missed the trampoline so much. oh gosh. but it want to, and i want to do so many other things, things like swim and write and draw and bake. im going to teach fong trampoline! and i just want those five split-seconds of being unreal. that, that and my teamates, my juniors, things tell me that nothing is ever going to be the same again. except. except maybe the trampoline. the way david talks about rugby, sudden animation, that's what i feel, that's how i relate. and. and if i were a guy id love to try, i dont know. so much sensation i want to collect, so many people i would like to be. and you can sway me, as long as you aren't trying. you remind me so nicely . Thursday, August 12, 2004 ( 11:40:00 PM ) elle's i have listened to this song at least- and the next time i do i shall- i have never hated dance so- hello another c-for- unprepared so i- burning-choreo-stupid-taping- this time tomorrow it shall be- twenty seconds short of an easy deal- anybody want a free offspring- you remind me so nicely . Tuesday, August 10, 2004 ( 11:44:00 PM ) elle's people that piss me off -who toy with me -who are calculated to impress -who want to toy with me -who are self-convinced -who are insecure to the point of being arrogant -who want to box me -who want to toy with me -who dont believe in to each his own -who are afraid of themselves -who are insecure are try to make up for it by being overbearing, pompous -who cant get away from what someone else is going to think of them -who try too hard -who suck up to me -who want to toy with me -who do cruel humour a bit too well -who cant keep their mouths shut -who are two-faced -who want to use you -who refuse to apologize -who get offended at everything -who cant laugh at themselves -who try to show off -who try to be people they are not -who assume what they're going to want to see -who impose their tastes onto people -who can look you in the eye and admit to their fault, but dont have the guts or the strength or the fucking audacity to do something about it after all, i can name you, you are only Three People. you remind me so nicely . ( 1:28:00 AM ) elle's because you take me seriously. because i have to make believe that i am in control of myself. because around people i find myself over and over morphing myself, concealer and blush, making myself more understandable. it is not that i am ashamed of the person i am, it is not that i am not completely in love with myself. it is. an attempt to be understandable, because im a softie that way, it bothers me that people are going to have to struggle to relate to me. i know you're going to want to cage me. but the people who can see me without my having to go braindead, or one sided, or untinted. fall in love with you. there you go again. but as long as you're happy enough with the niche that i represent in your life. what's it to me, what i am to you? you remind me so nicely . ( 12:38:00 AM ) elle's hello, i wont be your toy. i want to be the one who engineers the music. is there a proper word for this? while i tried to think of something to write for my english essay i thought about musical abstraction and how it intrigues me. sounds that i like -sitting in the middle of the quadrangle at 3 in the afternoon, when the entire world has woken up and is laughing gaily, far, far away. -moving water in the dark, or at sunset-time. -underwater empty swimming pool, with leaves and debris suspended in the water. -9 am canteen on a sleepy school holiday morning, when the wind is going through the windchimes or flapping at the banner. close to fast-asleep. -in class at 7 in the evening, when there is something spellbinding about the silence, it is something you have to stop, and listen to. -musical instruments that dont sound like musical instruments -sun, field. -synthesized background music to my favourite songs in the world and what i like about sound, or smell, is their inability to be proplerly named or properly described, in such their unrestrainability, their unwillingness to be caged or categorized. i thought of doing a flip off the edge of the esplanade railings, onto the rocky surf, and michelle said stop being so self-destructive. i wouldnt call it self-destructive, because it has come to a point where i am my own mind. it feels like the whole world is scheming and we are in the dark, we being the humans, we being, well. you too, really. i dont know what to write for my english essay, because i am afraid of not being understood and it being reflected in my marks. i am thinking, what if i chose the cheesiest and most cookie-cutter storyline in the world, i am wondering whether i can turn it into something by virtue of my words. because... i really screwed up my midyear essay and i still got an overall one. but it feels like shit to screw up a paper that's important to you, or to flop with something you've been allowed to take pride in. but. i dont think i could be like gail, who claims she's never screwed up an essay before. because, there's just something so predictable and safe and unromantic. im a very romanticised person, because tempermental, because everything works on how i feel, because i believe in inspiration. i want you to know that it takes something else to get to me, and that the people who actively try, rarely do. i cant bring myself to be understanding towards you, because i know you and i know how you take what you can get, and the more you let it go the more you remind me of the million and one reasons why relationships are Stupid Things to Happen, to me at least. i dont have the energy to be honest with someone who only hears what he wants to. you remind me so nicely . Saturday, August 07, 2004 ( 11:42:00 PM ) elle's
i think you are disarmingly accurate, because you are completely random and completely unflattering. and i like you for that. christl yong can you teach me to flip? you remind me so nicely . ( 10:48:00 PM ) elle's things i have to haha-unrealistic accomplish by the end of this long weekend: -finish chem til sulphuric acid -finish up twelf night notes -have one maths lesson -finish two chapters of social studies -finish chinese 4b i cant help it. everytime i look at you i think of him. him and his sounds systems, his endless cables and circuits, dials and switches and plugs galore. and. once i start thinking about him, i guess it's a whole new chapter altogether. and. my josh harnett-lookalike, you irish prince. everything about the place has left me enchanted. things i want to do after the o's -take a long bike ride -go back to the gym to see my juniors -sew a beanbag -sew a skirt -shop insane -watch hundreds of vcds -take up pilates again -watch plays -hunt for live music -dance -go to the esplanade -eat indulgently expensive food -bake -watch movies -go sentosa -deal with my computer -spend an afternoon at That Cd Shop -read -learn sign-language -swim more hey girl. you've been bugging me, just because you've been on my mind. but you really should have known, it doesnt matter to me what they're gonna think: im weird, im insane, im hypothetical. but get living already, because... i dont see why you let them hold you back. i really like my music collection. because because i'll listen to everything, because because all the bad stuff has been done away with. of course im in love with it, it's mine. but i still think that taste in music is the single most easy and accurate way to tell something about a person. most days i like to be blatantly honest, but today isnt one of those days. you remind me so nicely . Friday, August 06, 2004 ( 9:09:00 PM ) elle's i found the wristband, the dino one, of how very long ago. bury with a polaroid, the one of me with amanda and rachel, in our identical shirts. i want to tell you that im sorry, ever sorry, incredibly sorry, and then not sorry at all. im sorry for how i deceived and how i took you a sport, sorry for making a mess of something that could have become something true. but. dearie i cant ever say that i am sorry for having been the person that i was then, i cant ever look you in the eye and tell you i am sorry for being screwed up. i dont think the length of my insanity is something that i could have made deliberate, and down that road is a sorry that is not for me to say. i am not saying, i am not saying i am not to blame, because i am to blame, because i let myself unravel and i spurred it on, i was young(er) and stupid(er) and in search of frequent stereotypes. and i am sorry for dragging you down with me, i am sorry for weaving you into my messed up experiences. and also because i need to learn self-control. and also because, some days i think about it, i am not sorry for necessary evils. and. i have felt not irritated with you, not near so much as disappointed, because that day when you said hi, bitch to us, i know it was just another of your School Things greetings, and no im not offended with the wordchoice because i know it's just one of those things, but. what disturbed me most about that day was how you had completely become one of those girls, how something in you has keeled over and how i am disappointed, because i had always thought you better and i had always wanted to think you better, because i guess you seemed a little more authentic than that, a little more intelligent than that, i guess i was hoping that you might emerge from this bimbo culture completely unscathed. but what can i say, really, your face has changed and mind has changed, and. i am just too far gone, when before the least i could do was struggle to relate. i dont want to judge you. but i have done it already, and the least i can do is not pretend. but i think of that day and how you treat me, dearie some times i think you are not worth my time. and perhaps to me you have become a series of egg-shell faces, rehearsed laughters and a facade that has been beaten into place. you remind me so nicely . ( 1:08:00 AM ) elle's i ive been full of shit lately. everything feels unhealthy because eat sleep vice and then some. i feel the need to soak myself in fickle liquids and let all the evil seep out through my pores. im not saying anything. i like the trophy they gave for the napha awards thing, even though its dinky and plastic and fairly lame. i like the pretty pose and the cherubin wings. i think everything is showing, and the million things i want to do: sew a beanbag, shop insane, watch a hundred vcds. i want the o's to be over, before they come, so that i can live again, breathe again. i feel the need to read because the language faculty of my brain has completely shut down on me, i dont care if you agree with this or not. im not looking for answers. all i want is a little saving grace, daily beauty, stumbling upon things. i feel unhealthy. i want to run, and swim, and jump on the trampoline. and do an hour of meditation, because it has been so yawning long. i dont know what it is, an accumulation of things. value pack ice-cream, daily sedentary, eat-sleep cycle i cant break out of. long drags without water. i want to say it. but i cant. because of people, just people who will look at me strange, or look at me harsh, or look at me with kindness in their eyes. save me, please, you can only fuck off and i can only say it straight to your face, i am really trying to be nice about it. i cant take that, i dont care what you know about me. because if you treat me like a normal person, i will ultimately feel okay. and. i feel bruised, and i feel panicked. various reasons. how did we end up saying things about kuo today. because it wasnt just not a lie, because i really meant it. dont you know you've got your daddy's eyes, daddy was an alcoholic. and daddy couldnt understand, because i guess da it has never occured to you that i listen to that kind of music, because maybe you're something like my brother, something like your son, because he thinks that the most depressing music is the kind that is forthrightly so. i dont think so. another slice of my pie. because, because i listen to placebo loud and long, i really listen to it, and the chords and choruses flow through my body like i am not. i am not. i am wind or a hollow sound. dialtone. i wish you hadnt told me that. i start to wonder whether it's something i have known all these years, or whether or not it's something that i could actually want. you know me well enough to know that i will turn you away, dont you? dont you? because if you dont know me by now, you probably never will, maybe it is just an unwillingless to swallow what you see. tell me. please? because i cant do anything more than just friends, because i... honestly think that relationships like this just screw people up. and. sometimes i think we're just too alike to ever work out. you represent to me a time of my life that has been so far gone, a part of my life that was self-screwed and torrid, something base and something street and something bland. my great ennui. maybe i dont give you enough credit, mabye you're really much more intelligent than i think of you. i think you are, because you must be, because some times you say things that make me want to cry. but you should know, you'll never be good enough for me, not because i am in myself something great or something that self-impressed, but because i am just such a fucking big idealist that i probably wont make very much sense in the real world. i. i want to offer myself. up to something, up to nobody, because nobody can be good enough for the image that lives in my mind. but there is something that calls for a purity i cannot possess, just because. some days i feel ashamed of what i see in myself, ashamed too because i imagine that everyone else can see it. but im wrong, and you're wrong, or you're blind, or you're completely apathetic. any way it goes, i dont suppose anything matters anymore. and right now. i really believe it. but i know it's another second-by-second thing, i imagine. if i keep going, i will find myself. because really that's all there is to it. and. how much if means to me, alot, alot, alot. colloquial. this is how i see myself: you dont understand me. and i really want a typewriter. everytime i spew, it is like i am ripping my work out of the catch, starting new, starting clean. i want to feel pure, even if it is pure delusion. how much i care about how i feel, need i say anything at all? i want to listen to my cds again, i want silverchair and white stripes and pink floyd and bjork. the stuff that i pay for, the stuff that i believe in. everything else i rip off, everything else i can be a brat. a lot of the time i think i have no integrity, despite how much it means to me. because i feel it sharp and dense and suffocating, every time i wrong myself. i dreamt of ripping your head off that day. i stalked over and grabbed it with both hands, and when it came free from your shoulders it was still that laughing face of yours. i really hate your face, these days. your apathy and your amusement and your touchiness and your self-gratification and your insensitivity. i want to sleep and wake up in a different body. because this one feels wasted, wasted in a way i cannot describe. like every particle infected, the inside of me is one large multi-limbed sore. i imagine my skin turned inside out, scrubbed with dettol. i dont know what i've done to myself, but i dont think i evisioned it feeling this.. toxic. i cant help but think of britney when i say that. but it is not, there is nothing further from what i mean. i. nobody but i, because the best i am is self-obsessed. you are better, or you are worse. you are caught up with everything else, and i cant make myself care. all my emotion is spent and wasted. you remind me so nicely . Monday, August 02, 2004 ( 11:54:00 PM ) elle's rough and tumble hello. this is my standstill. this is my point-blank sudden death, this is my fall away from a crooning and familiar self, this is my altogether cluelessness, the machinery of the past few weeks. hello i dont recognize anything about myself anymore, hello i have really forgotten how to write. my immaculate friend. these days i pick up a pen to write and the moment it starts feeling contrived i have put it down, walked away, done something else. and. i think you might have worked too well, work to the point where my thinking voice is the same as my talking voice, i cannot believe where i am standing right now and how i have come to be finally here. it is like, alien, and comfortable, and new and exciting and altogether mundane. altogether mundane. because i get bored of things that are cute in an instant, i have to chalk myself with something broken or something less than secure. hey im on a roll here dont let me go. last week i swam not in the ocean but i felt free and focused and absolutely normal. can i say one thing, just one thing? because i have never felt as normal as i do now, the most alarming thing is how it has sprung itself upon me, stealthy stealthy, and drugged my unaware. i like it, and how much i like it is freak insane, because i have always been more or less okay with some part of me sticking out of the frame. because laughing is therapy, books are a therapy, head banging senseless music is therapy. and therapy that has become a lifestyle, before this no it was not that i had some sort of problem i would have wanted to you to solve. but i was at least a little queer, a least a little askew. and in my own way i liked that because it was the only me i ever knew, it was the only style and the only beauty i knew, or the only one i would celebrate, anyway. you know me, i really think you do. i think i have somehow or other hurled myself out of my own comfort zone. i cant believe where i am, now, and how long i've been here, and how much the normalcy feels mundane, and casual, and all-around okay as far as the pendulum emotions usually go. i told ma about my cutting that day, because she told me about how her secretary hurt herself. i guess it felt like id wanted her to know that her secretary would be okay, but the rest of the night she kept saying i cant believe you used to cut yourself. and she is simple, too. boy, food, artificial sugar and warmth. dont let me be the rain on your parade. now i go freaking bounce, freaking lame, freaking machine. will force this out, try me, try me. you remind me so nicely . |
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