Hello,
Quick update. I am heading to Canada in about 3 months for student exchange. That is about all that has happened in my life in the past year. More on that later.
Lately I've been thinking about days past, because my sister and I have been watching the old movies we used to watch as kids. We've started trying to find those cheesy songs we listened in Dad's car on the tape deck.
In my head, they were these epic songs of the golden age of music- never to be recaptured in following years. I had this vision of myself gleefully singing along,very much like those dickheads on 'Glee'. Eyes would be scrunched, one hand in the air (why do people do this?) and I would exhaust the play button on Itunes. In reality, they are pieces of pop fluff, as derivative as a frat boy serenading his girlfriend with an acoustic version of 'Everlong'. I am reminded that my parents have terrible taste in music.
That is the textbook example of nostalgia. I am disappointed that the tunes did not meet my somewhat inflated expectations. But I want to keep on remembering.
My sister and I are somewhat on the same wavelength. It's annoying at times because I feel like, with my two years advance on her in this god forsaken place, I should be vibrating at a slightly more senior frequency. But in all other respects, it's comforting to be able to talk to her and say something like "You know when that happens, and you feel that thing in your head and you say something like...you know what I mean?", to receive a simple nod from her, not even looking up from her laptop, completely understanding a completely incomprehensible ramble from me. She will then proceed to give me some stupid advice. But the understanding is pretty neat.
Well one thing we share in common is this unnerving feeling that our memories are floating away from us. I don't really remember much that happens in my life and my childhood is now a blur. So here comes the double edged sword of having a sister who's abnormally in tune with you. She is supposed to be my backup, my memory chip so to speak. If my memory slips, she is supposed to step in and fill in the blanks. So now we have both lost our childhoods. We were never really born, or we were born really mature and shot straight through to puberty.
So I am on a hunt for my favourite childhood memories. I can't come up with any as of now, but I will share some more recent ones.
1. When I accidentally stepped on my sister, we stared at each other for about 5 seconds. When I was about to apologize, she slapped me across the face, because it really hurt and she did not know how to act. We laughed for about 5 minutes afterwards.
2. I talked to a guy who prefaced everything with "I'm not gonna lie". "I'm not gonna lie, but I'm pretty wealthy" was a particularly charming exchange. I did not think I gave any indication that I thought he was prone to lying, but I definitely thought so post conversation/strange car ride.
3. My favourite memories are just the really good conversations I've had with my friends or with my sister. But today my brother surprised me and came into my room to wake me up. I told him that I had a dream that I transferred the wrong amount of money to someone, and he excitedly replied "Me?!?". He can be really adorable at times. Other times he is a smirking, somewhat sexist drip. But some times he really makes me smile. Like the time he dragged me out of uni to serve as his walking coat hanger during a Herringbone sale.
x
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
well....
That was crap. I always laugh at my efforts when I try to condense my thoughts into a poem or short story. They always seem like the product of a 14 year old's creative writing project.
It's important that you know that. I'm so envious of those who possess that talent to write beautifully. It flows out of them, it seeps out. They couldn't contain it even if they wanted. In the meantime, I frown at my screen for an hour, attacking my keys for not being able to type the words themselves. "I know I have it in me, but these keys aren't cooperating. Those jealous bastards!" Writing skilfully is innate, you can't fool someone into thinking you are a great writer. You can fool someone into think you have style, you are smart or even that you are funny. You cannot mask the fact that you are languid and dry.
Is there some irony in that sentence? But I'm not trying to fool you! How dare you!
Back on point (was there ever was one? There's no way of knowing...), I have been thinking lately about the trailer for Gus Van Sant's Restless I saw the other day. In the trailer, a character talks about a special songbird. This bird thinks it dies every time the sun goes down. When it wakes up, it is so surprised to be alive that it chirps a beautiful tune.
I was reading A Streetcar Named Desire a few days back, and I've just been thinking about Blanche and the songbird. I can't explain this feeling, the lump in my throat when I think of the two. There's something tragic yet hopeful about the songbird. Blanche is the same.
But the analogy doesn't quite fit does it? I wonder what it is like to be that songbird. To wake up with a fresh view of the world every morning. To feel so relieved that you are alive again.Opening your heavy lids and feeling happiness because there's light and green and shade. Maybe the bird isn't so tragic at all, maybe it's liberating.
I guess in my head Blanche and the bird were linked because they both have so much hope. But the bird is hopeful and the Blanche is hopeless.
Blanche is more like a moth- fluttery and scatterd, drawn to the light,hoping to find beauty and to be guided, only to get stung. And like a moth, she will do it again and again.
Maybe the bird gives up too easily, its too easily fooled by the darkness. The shadows trick it into thinking there won't be light. That the darkness is all it has left.
In my head, Blanche was a songbird because every time life has let her down she collapses. She can't see that the darkness is ephemeral. But then what does she have when the shadows disappear? Light, the light that betrays her. There is no liberation in finding the light, it only hurts.
Argh, I'm so annoyed I spent all this time thinking about this. When it all leads to nothing.
It's important that you know that. I'm so envious of those who possess that talent to write beautifully. It flows out of them, it seeps out. They couldn't contain it even if they wanted. In the meantime, I frown at my screen for an hour, attacking my keys for not being able to type the words themselves. "I know I have it in me, but these keys aren't cooperating. Those jealous bastards!" Writing skilfully is innate, you can't fool someone into thinking you are a great writer. You can fool someone into think you have style, you are smart or even that you are funny. You cannot mask the fact that you are languid and dry.
Is there some irony in that sentence? But I'm not trying to fool you! How dare you!
Back on point (was there ever was one? There's no way of knowing...), I have been thinking lately about the trailer for Gus Van Sant's Restless I saw the other day. In the trailer, a character talks about a special songbird. This bird thinks it dies every time the sun goes down. When it wakes up, it is so surprised to be alive that it chirps a beautiful tune.
I was reading A Streetcar Named Desire a few days back, and I've just been thinking about Blanche and the songbird. I can't explain this feeling, the lump in my throat when I think of the two. There's something tragic yet hopeful about the songbird. Blanche is the same.
But the analogy doesn't quite fit does it? I wonder what it is like to be that songbird. To wake up with a fresh view of the world every morning. To feel so relieved that you are alive again.Opening your heavy lids and feeling happiness because there's light and green and shade. Maybe the bird isn't so tragic at all, maybe it's liberating.
I guess in my head Blanche and the bird were linked because they both have so much hope. But the bird is hopeful and the Blanche is hopeless.
Blanche is more like a moth- fluttery and scatterd, drawn to the light,hoping to find beauty and to be guided, only to get stung. And like a moth, she will do it again and again.
Maybe the bird gives up too easily, its too easily fooled by the darkness. The shadows trick it into thinking there won't be light. That the darkness is all it has left.
In my head, Blanche was a songbird because every time life has let her down she collapses. She can't see that the darkness is ephemeral. But then what does she have when the shadows disappear? Light, the light that betrays her. There is no liberation in finding the light, it only hurts.
Argh, I'm so annoyed I spent all this time thinking about this. When it all leads to nothing.
hohum
I am not effortless, I am work.
I have no ease.
I try to appease but
I have no grace,
No frills, no lace.
I laugh too much.
I speak too loud.
I try too hard,
I'm much too proud
to admit that
I am not effortless, I am work.
I have no ease.
I try to appease but
I have no grace,
No frills, no lace.
I laugh too much.
I speak too loud.
I try too hard,
I'm much too proud
to admit that
I am not effortless, I am work.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
johnny flynn
All that I have is a river,
The river is always my home.
Lord take me away,
For I just cannot stay,
I'll sink in my skin and my bones.
The water sustains me without even trying.
The water can't drown me,
I'm done with my dying.
Now the I land I knew is a dream,
And the line on the distance grows feint,
So wide is my river,
The horizon a sliver,
The artist has run out of paint.
The river is always my home.
Lord take me away,
For I just cannot stay,
I'll sink in my skin and my bones.
The water sustains me without even trying.
The water can't drown me,
I'm done with my dying.
Now the I land I knew is a dream,
And the line on the distance grows feint,
So wide is my river,
The horizon a sliver,
The artist has run out of paint.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
the stupid life of an american teenager
This is a terrible show. If I had to quickly sum it up, I would call it a piece of preachy, badly acted, horribly written, frustratingly unrealistic crap.
But, I have watched a full season of it. I scream and kick myself for it, but I watch episode after episode. I think it is partly because I'm a masochist- I actually want to see exactly how horrendous this show can get. I want to tear my eyes out and my ears hurt from all the conservative babbling that goes on each episode. But I keep going. It is reliable in that way, just like you can rely on a shark to eat you up alive if you are stranded on the ocean.
One things that frustrates me is the blatantly conservative message the show creator is shoving down our throats. SEX IS BAD. EVERYTIME YOU HAVE SEX, SOMETHING BAD WILL HAPPEN.
Seriously, a girl has sex and her dad dies the same day. She then proceeds to berate herself for being such a cold hearted killer. My vagina killed my father! Of course, everyone on the show says she is a fool for thinking that. But she refuses to believe them and says " I know I killed him. He told me not to have sex and I did. He died because I had INCREDIBLE SEX!". I honestly feel that the actress who had to deliver these lines deserves an Oscar for not quitting on the spot after reading the script. She delivered them without cringing, displaying enormous self restraint and control over her gag reflex. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating. She probably only deserves an Emmy.
Every episode of this hideous show contains the word sex repeated at least 30 times. Below are some examples of the subtle and layered dialogue spoken on the show:
"I don't think we should have SEX. We're not ready because we aren't MARRIED."- The Christians
"I LOVE SEX. I am going to have SEX with my boyfriend right now!"- The 'slut'
"All I can think about is SEX. I want to have sex NOWWWW!"- Every guy on the show
"You aren't having sex, you whore!"- Every father on the show to their daughters.
The creator and writers might as well hit us in the head with a mallet with the word SEX printed on it. It would be much less painful and more fun.
Another thing that has me banging my head on my wall for relief after watching the show are the characters. Namely the main character- Amy Jeurgens. First of all, what a stupid name. Secondly, I think she is the most possibly the most annoying teenage character in the history of television. She is a shrew. That is the perfect way to describe her.
First of all, she gets knocked up. And blames it all on the guy- what a scumbag, how dare he have consensual sex with her? She yells at everyone in her family and her dutiful boyfriend who has stuck around with her, despite her carrying the spawn of another man's seed. She yells at him for being jealous of the father. She forces him to take her on a holiday, fully expecting him to pay for her and her baby. When he hesitates she yells. She then announces that she doesn't care whether he takes her, just as long as she gets to go. What a keeper!
I want to punch her in the face everytime she speaks. She compelled me to google 'Amy Jeurgens bitch' on google- I will never forgive the show for making me sink so low. And now I've posted an entire blog on it!
I will continue to watch the show. I have figured out why. Firstly, I get some good jaw dropping action from watching. Secondly, I am holding out for the day when Amy gets bitch slapped in the face by her spineless boyfriend. Or maybe she can get hit by a bus.
Rant over. God this was annoying to write, but I had to get it off my chest. I just want to quickly quote Ben Folds who sums up Amy Jeurgens bitchface succintly in Rocking the Suburbs:
Ya'll don't know what it's like
being male, middle class and white
It gets me real pissed off and it makes me wanna say
FUUUUUUUCK
But, I have watched a full season of it. I scream and kick myself for it, but I watch episode after episode. I think it is partly because I'm a masochist- I actually want to see exactly how horrendous this show can get. I want to tear my eyes out and my ears hurt from all the conservative babbling that goes on each episode. But I keep going. It is reliable in that way, just like you can rely on a shark to eat you up alive if you are stranded on the ocean.
One things that frustrates me is the blatantly conservative message the show creator is shoving down our throats. SEX IS BAD. EVERYTIME YOU HAVE SEX, SOMETHING BAD WILL HAPPEN.
Seriously, a girl has sex and her dad dies the same day. She then proceeds to berate herself for being such a cold hearted killer. My vagina killed my father! Of course, everyone on the show says she is a fool for thinking that. But she refuses to believe them and says " I know I killed him. He told me not to have sex and I did. He died because I had INCREDIBLE SEX!". I honestly feel that the actress who had to deliver these lines deserves an Oscar for not quitting on the spot after reading the script. She delivered them without cringing, displaying enormous self restraint and control over her gag reflex. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating. She probably only deserves an Emmy.
Every episode of this hideous show contains the word sex repeated at least 30 times. Below are some examples of the subtle and layered dialogue spoken on the show:
"I don't think we should have SEX. We're not ready because we aren't MARRIED."- The Christians
"I LOVE SEX. I am going to have SEX with my boyfriend right now!"- The 'slut'
"All I can think about is SEX. I want to have sex NOWWWW!"- Every guy on the show
"You aren't having sex, you whore!"- Every father on the show to their daughters.
The creator and writers might as well hit us in the head with a mallet with the word SEX printed on it. It would be much less painful and more fun.
Another thing that has me banging my head on my wall for relief after watching the show are the characters. Namely the main character- Amy Jeurgens. First of all, what a stupid name. Secondly, I think she is the most possibly the most annoying teenage character in the history of television. She is a shrew. That is the perfect way to describe her.
First of all, she gets knocked up. And blames it all on the guy- what a scumbag, how dare he have consensual sex with her? She yells at everyone in her family and her dutiful boyfriend who has stuck around with her, despite her carrying the spawn of another man's seed. She yells at him for being jealous of the father. She forces him to take her on a holiday, fully expecting him to pay for her and her baby. When he hesitates she yells. She then announces that she doesn't care whether he takes her, just as long as she gets to go. What a keeper!
I want to punch her in the face everytime she speaks. She compelled me to google 'Amy Jeurgens bitch' on google- I will never forgive the show for making me sink so low. And now I've posted an entire blog on it!
I will continue to watch the show. I have figured out why. Firstly, I get some good jaw dropping action from watching. Secondly, I am holding out for the day when Amy gets bitch slapped in the face by her spineless boyfriend. Or maybe she can get hit by a bus.
Rant over. God this was annoying to write, but I had to get it off my chest. I just want to quickly quote Ben Folds who sums up Amy Jeurgens bitchface succintly in Rocking the Suburbs:
Ya'll don't know what it's like
being male, middle class and white
It gets me real pissed off and it makes me wanna say
FUUUUUUUCK
Thursday, September 9, 2010
give up all this stuff
That was my attempt to explain my afternoon in a story that should have depth but proabably doesn't. For one that does, click here.
Today was a doozy. I have a lot of theories. Most of them are silly. I have a theory that Earth is really Project Earth and God takes the place of Michael Kors, Nina Garcia and Heidi Klum-face. I think everything that has been done has been done before. War, global waming, genocide. We're nothing but a repeat and God is looking down on us and thinking 'Again? Learn your lesson folks!'. Everytime he repeats it we get a little better. Humans get a little smarter, a little more compassionate, the world slowly and steadily becomes a nicer place. But it always ends in doom. Then God starts again.
Really, we're just a pet project. A dissapointing one at that.
My other theory, isn't really a theory but an observation culminating from every 'coming of age' film there is. Life, to me, is made up of a series of crises. Before you leave highschool, there's the crisis of 'what will I do?'. This really continues for the rest of your life. Right now I find myself constantly thinking 'What am I doing? Why? Why not?' I have no idea what direction I'm going. Hence the doozy.
I always wanted to be steps ahead (streets ahead!Community!). I always wanted to be the one who knew it all before everyone else. I wanted it figured out. Done. Do it. But I guess I'm just figuring it out that having plans is all good and well, but don't expect everything to go exactly as you had imagined.
I have this nagging thought in my head I can't shake. It is like the voice of a whiny cartoon character. I want to be adventurous and spontaneous but also be safe and grounded. You probably think all I want to do is complain.
That's another thought I can't escape.
Today was a doozy. I have a lot of theories. Most of them are silly. I have a theory that Earth is really Project Earth and God takes the place of Michael Kors, Nina Garcia and Heidi Klum-face. I think everything that has been done has been done before. War, global waming, genocide. We're nothing but a repeat and God is looking down on us and thinking 'Again? Learn your lesson folks!'. Everytime he repeats it we get a little better. Humans get a little smarter, a little more compassionate, the world slowly and steadily becomes a nicer place. But it always ends in doom. Then God starts again.
Really, we're just a pet project. A dissapointing one at that.
My other theory, isn't really a theory but an observation culminating from every 'coming of age' film there is. Life, to me, is made up of a series of crises. Before you leave highschool, there's the crisis of 'what will I do?'. This really continues for the rest of your life. Right now I find myself constantly thinking 'What am I doing? Why? Why not?' I have no idea what direction I'm going. Hence the doozy.
I always wanted to be steps ahead (streets ahead!Community!). I always wanted to be the one who knew it all before everyone else. I wanted it figured out. Done. Do it. But I guess I'm just figuring it out that having plans is all good and well, but don't expect everything to go exactly as you had imagined.
I have this nagging thought in my head I can't shake. It is like the voice of a whiny cartoon character. I want to be adventurous and spontaneous but also be safe and grounded. You probably think all I want to do is complain.
That's another thought I can't escape.
in my head
I was on a bus today and I was going to be transferred on another bus. My second bus was due to arrive in 20 minutes. I found myself praying that the bus would go slower and slower, so I wouldn't have to wait at the bus stop.I felt a sense of happiness every time the traffic light would turn red. I smiled a silly smile. Everything was going according to plan.
But then it struck me. I was on a bus moving at a snail's pace. I would have been sitting on a bench, staring at nothing. In the end, I would still be waiting.
But then it struck me. I was on a bus moving at a snail's pace. I would have been sitting on a bench, staring at nothing. In the end, I would still be waiting.
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