Labels: music
Starstruck
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Because Cute, Smart, and Funny don't mean a thing
The above was supposed to be the real title, but trust me the blogskin screwed up on meLiving life to the fullest And I won't say anything at all. To all the lovely bitches like you Get your boots on |
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Just like that, its over - Wednesday, August 31, 2011 @ 8:18 PM
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What I like about you - @ 5:48 PM
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And I do remember - @ 4:30 PM
"don't just look at things from the side of the victims. Understand that bullies have their fair share of unhappiness as well. They just don't know how to let go of their anger, their pent up frustration and issues. That's why I'm not against bullying, but i'm against letting kids with issues continue with their lives not knowing that there's another way out. Most definitely, I'm against family abuse, which is why, most kids bully others anyway." I didn't say anything cause I didn't want to start a fight. But just seeing this makes me feel very very uncomfortable. How many of you have been bullied. Just wondering? Maybe most of you don't know, but the worst type of bullying is not the type where a person gets disturbed by 3 or 4 people every recess and gets his money extorted. Not the type where a little kid gets labelled by an older kid and gets laughed at. The worst type of bullying is near universal. It happens everywhere. Its avoidance. Nothing needs to be done you see, you just avoid the person. Well that's not so bad now isn't it. Yeah wait till you have an entire class of people doing it. I've been the victim many times, and I can tell you drives you into depression. It's not like I've been put in terrible classes multiple times. It can happen anywhere. It's not just my class, its throughout the school level. I sincerely doubt its all down to family issues, unless you're telling me that most people have family issues and stick it to the remaining who don't, thus ensuring they have issues anyway. Its cruelty. Its cruelty indulged in by a multitude of people. You see, in these cases, a bully can simply and truly believe that he isn't wrong. That every mocking sneer, judging look that he indulges in is okay, cause the person deserves it. To these people, the person they're bullying can sometimes be sub-human. And when the person is sub-human, anything is justified. "don't just look at things from the side of the victims. Understand that bullies have their fair share of unhappiness as well. They just don't know how to let go of their anger, their pent up frustration and issues. Having unhappiness is not an excuse, especially if you're spreading it to others anyway. But if only bullying was only done by people who "have issues". Most people have. Even I have. This is why I did it. I did it cause I was afraid of falling out with the in crowd. Also cause that person was odd, and everyone thought so. Hanging out with him was uncool. Soon he became a figure to mock, someone you didn't want to be seen hanging out with. That's why many of them did it too. Cause they thought he was odd. And cause they didn't want to be odd by not expressing the same view. In the end it all comes down to issues with conformity, and insecurity issues that people have when they themselves are faced with the prospect of social isolation themselves. If any of you know anyone who's like that and are afraid of helping let me tell you this. The scary thing about bullying is that everyone is in it on one person. If there's two, suddenly its a lot less oppressive. At the very least you'd have someone you know who shares your experiences and whom you can talk to. And maybe you're thinking to yourself that heck, the person isn't worth it. I'm not risking my social status as well as innumerable hours of pain and suffering just to make him happier. Loneliness kills. If injustice isn't reason enough for you to act, just ask yourself, what's the worth of a life. Don't get me wrong, not all bullying victims commit suicide, most don't, but when you start pushing at someone's emotions and his mental well-being like that, you never know when he's going to snap. And if it does, will you be able to live with yourself. Just think about it. Labels: nightmares |
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We Don't Know How - Tuesday, August 30, 2011 @ 10:27 PM
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High and Dry - @ 12:18 AM
Funny how people can just walk into my life, blitz me for a while then walk right back out.
Its like I need them more then they need me. Yeah, that's probably it. Sigh. Labels: fragments |
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Hotel Curryfornia - Monday, August 29, 2011 @ 9:52 PM
I thought this was hilarious. Sigh Tan Cheng Bok, try again next time, I try to vote for you. ****************************************************************** The only thing useful about facebook I guess for me so far was getting a relook at the pics for Raffles Player's trip to London in December last year. This is the world famous Drury Lane theatre. Just sitting there in the audience seat and looking at the stage was awe inspiring. Take a look at the stage, see how far back it goes. Just look at the set. Theatre really comes alive in this place. I wish I could perform there one day...but I suppose that's one of those dreams destined to remain a dream. I've got plenty on my plate already. Labels: dreams, random pic, RP |
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The words we never said - Sunday, August 28, 2011 @ 8:31 PM
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Faded Luminescence - @ 7:43 PM
And its sad to think that after a year we're nothing more than strangers.
What's done's been done. And what's gone is gone. But I'm not blaming you, not at all. I guess, I wish things could've been a little different. Still, I don't regret....and I hope I'll never forget. That's all I have to lose right now. Long live. Labels: lost, nostalgia, open letter |
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Breathe - @ 1:56 PM
You know what. What the hell is it. Why don't people take me seriously. How many times, how many bloody effing times do I have to say it. How obvious do I have to get.
Stop it. It's not your right to do it. I don't even have to tell you not to do it. Don't act chummy with me. And you, what the hell. Stop patronizing me. You know what, both of you. Stop bloody patronizing me. When I say something I mean it, why can't you respect that. Especially after I've said it, time and time and time and again. What do I have to do? Hit you? And it's not like you're very close to me are you? Remember how we "became" friends? Remember how you treated me before? Yeah. I remember, even if you don't. And you, stop treating me like that. I don't know what you think of me all the time, but I know it isn't good. And that's what I don't like. Stop thinking that. Stop thinking oh its Ian going off again on another Ian rant. He's just being him. He's just like that. No. I'm not like that. I'm a person just like you and I thought I could trust you cause you know I expect you to not treat me like less than human. Maybe I think differently from you, but surely that doesn't make me inferior. Or am I? To you? Everytime you say something like, fine think that way. Everytime you don't even bother to argue you imply that oh well, if you're so screwed up and want to think that way its not my problem. What the hell. I'm not inferior. I'm not some retard who's impervious to logic and you know when I'm trying to be honest and say what I truly feel if its so unimportant to you I think to myself why heck I even bother. Fine, since you're so superior then I guess you don't need me right. Fine. Fine. Labels: open letter, rant |
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My Ponderous Existence - Saturday, August 27, 2011 @ 7:38 PM
Someone today said something about her parents not willing to let go. I said I had the same problem too, but is that really it? I don't know. A lot of me tells me I'm wrong.
I don't know, maybe that's the case for my mother, I'm pretty sure of that I guess. But as for my father....I don't know. I think I should be old enough to be over that I hate my parents phase. And I think I can say that this time, I'm really sure I don't like them, and it isn't for no reason. Its like I stopped feeling a sense of love from my father for a very long time and its just degenerated whatever relationship we used to have, if it even was there at all. Though affection is certainly more than physical expression, I can't remember when was the last time I got a hug from the both of them, and the time has come and passed when I actually wanted them to. Now...its like I'm past caring and I don't want one from them. I don't know, maybe you think its a small thing, but....I really wished someone would come and hug me. Someone I actually cared about. I'm not asking....but I remember asking. It was terrible from me and for that person. It's very weird, perhaps a little sappy and soft to say but I guess there's nowhere else I can say it. I just feel so unloved at times. Oh but for a little reprieve. |
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Summer blooms - Friday, August 26, 2011 @ 6:47 PM
Why is it that when I get frustrated at the most trivial of things I get so angry.
A game being harder or more unfair than I expected. It makes me so angry I shout and scream. It puts me in a bad mood. I wonder if I have a swirling cesspit of malice and hatred within me. Cause that's what it seems like.... It totally spoils puzzle games for me. Or any games that involve a certain degree of luck. I don't know. It can seem like the games work against logic , that certain things happen in a weird unfair way for no particular reason. Just maybe bad luck. Except its sustained bad luck. Then I get angry. Very angry. But I shouldn't. Its not like this when I play games with other people. But still... It's not healthy. Something's not right with me.
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Can't Stand on My Own - @ 4:37 PM
And its nearly been a year, and I can't believe its been so long.
Sigh. Feels like forever. ******************************************************* I hate to think that some people think I'm arrogant, but its true. I'd certainly like to think I'm not. I could ask them to come try and actually talk to me, except that I don't want them to. Sigh. Am I too aggressive? Yes..... I wish I could fix that. I'm too afraid of being overlooked or trampled over. She's right. I'm way too tense. Anyone know how to teach someone how to relax? I don't think so, but I gotta learn anyway. |
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You Can't Get In My Way - Thursday, August 25, 2011 @ 9:36 PM
~~*During Chemistry*~~
I *holding up molecular model* : Hey mine looks like a question mark. H: Yeah its like you. I: A testament to my inquisitive mind! H: More like your questionable existence. Burned. Labels: fragments |
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Scissoring Blowback - Monday, August 22, 2011 @ 5:46 PM
And in a twinkle of the eye, the assassin sidesteps the backstab.
Ooh la la. You're getting to slick for them aren't ya Ian. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I always thought it was hilarious how Shakespeare felt necessary to describe his character's deaths in stage directions. For fear of that, I still will stay with thee, And never from this palace of dim night Depart again. Here, here will I remain With worms that are thy chamber maids. Oh, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last. Arms, take your last embrace. And, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death. (kisses JULIET, takes out the poison) Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide. Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks thy seasick, weary bark. Here’s to my love! (drinks the poison) O true apothecary, Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. Whenever I see those two words I tell you I cannot prevent myself from giggling a little. haha. Labels: fragments, my weird opinion, random |
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Catch Me In Your Arms - Sunday, August 21, 2011 @ 7:48 PM
I feel so brain dead right now.
Being sick sucks. I am so not going to school tomorrow. I can't sleep cause I already slept for hours. And I hate staying up cause I feel like crap and there's nothing to do. You know what the worst part of crashing in the afternoon when you're sick is? Its later at night, when you wake up at 2am, and roll about in your feverish madness. Hopelessly trying to go back to sleep, sweating, tossing and not knowing when you're in sleep or not. Nigtmares fuse with reality, dread, horror and sweat. You're tired but you can't go away. There is no reprieve in sleep, there is no reprieve in consciousness. I flit between a warped dreamscape and a numbed reality. I really hate being sick. Labels: myself, nightmares |
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Drifting through the wind - @ 12:01 AM
Heh and sometimes you wonder if you should just forget it and talk to that person.
But then you wonder if you would be disturbing that person. But then you remember that you really feel lost and perhaps you crave that person's attention a little if not a lot. That you perhaps enjoy that person's presence. Then you realise that life's not about you. So heck you just forget it and let it rest. Bother. And you satisfy yourself with leaving stupid messages that you hope other people will pick up upon. All the time, speaking quintessentially in third person. Actually its second person. Yeah. You start to remember the first time you encounter the word second person. Between first and third person, and you tell yourself, who the heck writes in second person. Its retarded. The answer : me. haha. Labels: fragments, my weird opinion |
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Cheers to Love - Friday, August 19, 2011 @ 9:15 PM
And sometimes I need intensity to blow away my sorrow.
********************************************************* Midnight in the city. He shifted in his seat on the back of the bus. His hands digging into the subtly grime covered pseudo cushions he sat upon, he stared out the window. They said the city never sleeps, the unearthly orange glow of the streetlights confirmed it, forming a highway in the darkness where the shadows fled. Still, there was a quiet about the night and a strange way where every single sound made by the creaking vehicle which was carrying him onwards echoed out beneath the starless grey sky. He found his body pressed slightly uncomfortably against the left window as the bus turned, off the highway and onto another long straight road. The lights were dimmer, the blackness closer and endless, broken only by the occasional hanging branch or overgrown leaf hanging out from behind its veil. On and on the bus travelled, the seats swaying up and down in an almost rhythmic fashion, down that long winding road. Its two headlights forming two ovalish pools of brightness before the slow moving vehicle. A spot of brightness in a world of nothing. The darkness closed in on the bus, and so did time. He awoke to find himself alone on the bus. He was the only passenger. Rubbing his bleary eyes he checked his watch. 3:00 a.m. He looked beyond the glass and saw the moon in the sky, but nothing else. The moon. The road. The bus. The constant lights. The bus no longer bobbed up and down, but he could feel the hum of the engine, and could see the streetlamps passing by. He looked through the windscreen of the bus and saw the road stretching out into forever, disappearing as the gloom swallowed it up, the edge of darkness never closer than it was before though the bus steadily travelled forwards. It isn't, his mind whispered to him. Something was definitely wrong, bus services didn't run at this time anyway, and though he had probably missed his stop, he was sure that he would have at least picked something familiar out in the landscape. The landscape. There was none, none that he could see. Just the moon, the streetlamps and the road; the latter two long blended and blurred into insignificance, till they became as constant as the moon itself. Unchanging. He rose unsurely from his seat, tottering as he stood more from uncertainty than the fresh tingling sensation of cramped limbs. Pushing past two empty seats and a pole, he paused halfway down the aisle, his footsteps sounding hollowly against the floor, dominating the relative silence of the bus. "Hello...?" he called out to the bus driver hidden from his view and got no reply. He stood there, straining for any sound beyond the by now all too familiar. The engine kept humming as panic and fear slowly began to grow within him. Hesitantly he took another step forward, and his foot impacted the floor like an anvil. His heart beat furiously in his chest, and he waited. Silence. As he crept his way forward very soon he began to make out a figure hunched over the steering wheel. It didn't move, but only kept it's eyes forward, staring straight into the road ahead. He couldn't make anything out in the distance either. He would've called out, but again his mind screamed at him that something was wrong. Even so, he found himself right behind it and reached out a hand. He stopped short of it's shoulder and paused. He stood there, almost as if in a trance, caught between his fear of what would happen, and struggling against his need to end his predicament. Suddenly it became very clear in his mind that his situation was certainly very out of the ordinary. Uncertainty and trepidation blossomed into fear and full blown panic as he stumbled away. Away from that thing which he was certain was not human, as far away as he could. Back, back to where he had been, the seat at the back. He shivered as settled back into the cramped space, sitting upright in his seat he watched the unchanging nothing beyond the window and the moon far and beyond, ever changing but still the same. And as the cold descended on him, he found his eyes tiring, the dread and gloom creeping up on him ever so slowly. He huddled up in his sweater, pulling the folds tighter around him. Five minutes, ten minutes, an hour, it did not matter. His watch had stopped working at 3:01 a.m. and there was no one to tell him how much time had passed. The moon would not. The sun would not. He reached to scratch his back, but then realised that his arm could not move, and so he closed his eyes and went to sleep, surrendering to the dark even as he felt the chilling numbness spread throughout his limbs. |
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Think I know where you belong - Wednesday, August 17, 2011 @ 10:46 PM
"Remember, there's no right and wrong in songwriting. There's just good and bad."
- A certain local songwriter *********************************************************** Today, walking through Junction 8 I noticed a girl of about twenty clutching a silver Esquire flyer, looking worried and lost, leaning against the wall, eyes searching the crowd for someone. As I continued on amidst the busy flow of people I noticed another a minor disturbance, a person who stood out. Instead of bustling, scurrying or striding her way forward, she circled a spot, directionless and aimless. Moving closer, I saw she was a woman of about forty, she seemed almost frantic. She was scanning the throng of people for someone too, and shouted a foreign name into the wall of noise, futile. She clutched a silver Esquire flyer in her hand. I considered talking to her, and perhaps pointing her in the direction of the girl, the possibly of embarrassment wrestling with a voice inside me telling me to help her in her distress. I decided that potentially helping her would be worth the potential cost, and I walked right by her without slowing down or saying a word. |
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Be still, my heart - Monday, August 15, 2011 @ 11:54 PM
Sometimes I get all sad for no reason.
There's so much within me that I can't get at. That my mind hides from me. Its not exactly like what they say, no recollection of those traumatic events. They aren't traumatic like what they say in the reports. At least I think. I still know certain things happened. I still know its not like I got raped or what. Its not that severe. At the same time, my mind still doesn't let me remember. I can remember big details, but not the small things. But its the small things that hurt me. The small things that I cannot dig up. I can't forgive. And when I can't forgive, I can't forget. How can I move on? Sigh. Labels: confused, feelings, myself, nightmares, sanity |
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Let it go - @ 7:43 PM
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Hoped You Were There - Saturday, August 13, 2011 @ 7:45 PM
Something big's happening here with Caracal.
And Inch just blows me away with her acoustic covers all the time. Labels: music |
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Give an Inch, take a mile - Friday, August 12, 2011 @ 10:03 PM
Have I mentioned how much I love this girl's music? I managed to drag Ming Jie down to catch her today, good thing cause without him I wouldn't have dared to camp backstage to try to get her autograph. ...which I didn't get cause I didn't you know have a pen or paper or marker or anything. But I got a photo! I was actually pretty uh lost for words when I met her, and thanks to Ming Jie again, he managed to talk us through most of the thing. I really wanted to tell her how much she means to me, especially as the local music scene looks so hopeless, she keeps going on despite it all. SXSW. What an achievement really. To see a local born and bred Singaporean make it all the way there...really lets me keep dreaming. Rock on shorties. Yeah! |
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Life just got a little cranky - Thursday, August 11, 2011 @ 8:22 PM
Bad nose, bad wrist, messed up earphones = Bored Ian who feels like crap.
No music. No one to talk to. Bad day. Argh. Very frustrated Ian. Very frustrated Ian wants random conversation. Preferably with female company. Talking to boys makes him oh so tired. Yes, very frustrated Ian needs to be talked to by a high personality at the very least. Hmmmmm Something or someone that will make him forget his bloody nose for a while. BLOODY HELL. CAN'T SING, CAN'T PLAY A SONG, CAN'T EAT PROPERLY, CAN'T THINK PROPERLY, CAN'T LISTEN TO MUSIC, CAN'T TALK TO ANYONE. WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY. Zzt, I'll go talk to someone. On a side note, I really hate my nose. Whenever it goes off like this its always too either too hot or too cold. *CHOO* Labels: my weird opinion, myself, random |
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Homebound - Wednesday, August 10, 2011 @ 7:30 PM
I don't know about you, but for me (I'm sorry if its really obvious) music really touches me.
There's just something about even the simplest of pop songs, if done in seriousness that allows me to feel. To feel deeply. I think the most important thing is heart. Heart meaning genuine emotion, after all how can a listener be inspired to feel something by something fake, something not real. Maybe movies came to mind, television shows, acting. Its a game of pretend that is, but yet audiences can laugh, can cry, can sigh as the characters on the screen go through their own fake emotions and fake conflicts. The thing is, actors have to feel too. When you perform, if you're only acting, the audience can tell. The best performers know that they have to feel what they expect to let the audience feel. Still, in the end, music connects with my soul the deepest. Maybe its cause I'm impatient. After all, if I'm sad, I won't sit myself down to watch a tv show or movie. I'll plug myself down to a sad song for three or four minutes of indulgence. Then again, if I don't replay the song I usually go over to the next sad song, and if I want I can keep at it for hours. I don't know, I find something very personal about music. Maybe its that you only need one person and an instrument to produce music, or as some might argue, simply a voice. Its like a confessional, writing a song. Especially with some songwriters. Those who draw deeply from personal experiences. A lot of times its about telling a story. A story of a person. A real person. Of course it can be made up sometimes. I don't know. In the end it is like movies and tv I suppose. A story to tell. Heartbreak, love, grief. Don't really need another reason to listen now do you? Labels: music |
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Friday Is Forever - @ 3:39 PM
And sometimes you really want to give it all for one wish.
Just one. But things aren't always about what you want. In fact, just about never. Sigh. ************************************** Hold me down, and I'll carry you home. We've got too much to lose. ************************************** There isn't a better feeling than knowing someone's got your back and you've got theirs. Watch what you say and listen to the world. Cause sometimes you only need one person to live for, and you don't know who you might be that one person to. Think about it ************************************** They say you don't know what you'll miss most till its gone. Them was right. Labels: fragments |
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It Feels Too Right - Tuesday, August 9, 2011 @ 9:45 PM
Maybe you don't need the whole world to love you, maybe you only need one person- Kermit The Frog
I didn't know he had a tv show or whatever. Still.....he's right *************************************** Its better to try and fail than not try at all. Or is it better to not speak and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt. Oh common wisdom, on which side do you truly stand. |
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I Let My Heart Go - Monday, August 8, 2011 @ 8:42 PM
I have really bad people withdrawal.
If you know what I mean. I get jittery, and its not like I don't have anyone else I want to talk to. Its just that things are awkward, and I'm afraid to start. Caught. Zzt, if only I had something to take my mind off this. Oh, save me already. Labels: myself |
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Pulling in the wrong direction - @ 7:26 PM
I wish it were so easy. It isn't.
But since when is that enough excuse for me not to do something. Especially if its right? Weakness. That's one of the things I fear within myself, but since its there I might as well do something about it. I'll get all the help I can. And I think, luckily I have all the help I need. Yes, I do. Suddenly my primary school anthem comes to mind. Go forward, onward, ever to the light Go forward, and serve, the Lord our God. |
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Hey, sounds like me - Sunday, August 7, 2011 @ 5:48 PM
"III. FICTIONPRESS!
I've been back to reading :D and I really admire this author in fictionpress because she shares the same ideologies as me and everything! Except for her ideas on 'Mr Right' and mine. LOL. In terms of outward appearances, we have the same taste but for personality, it's kinda different. heh. She seems to favour insecure guys who are WAY too sensitive. I prefer guys that believe in themselves, but not overly so, and guys that can take a few jabs and give a few back, even. LOL. Haha but we both like black / dark-brown haired guys (I don't understand the whole obsession for blondes thing) with intense (but NOT scary. intense in the addictive way) eyes. Okay, ANYWAY..." Why she never mention the author one. Besides, sounds like me right? (; Who knows, who knows. Sorry this is bloody random and stupid. Like most of the stuff hair. (here, I mean, that was random) Sudden realisation. Heck. Everything sounds like me nowadays. |
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IKRRRR - @ 5:34 PM
One burden lifts from my back, another steps into place.
At least it gave me a burst of energy as it ended, though that little package of happiness is fading even as I type. Its paradoxial, I want to sleep cause I'm tired, at the same time I can't sleep cause if I just did, tomorrow would come quicker. Aiyah, its only one day of school, suck it up. ************************************************ I was going to write a story, but I think writing prompts aren't really my thing. I think I realised that after I typed out pink and yellow daisies and tried to think of a story. I better stick to my old motto. Only write when inspiration strikes. Don't force it. Yeah! Take it slow and simple. Labels: my weird opinion |
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When Decisions Make Themselves - @ 12:32 AM
What I learnt. Or merely confirmed.
1. Just cause everyone asks you to shut up, doesn't mean you're wrong 2. Dignity is possible to be retained in all circumstances (almost at least) 3. Skirts feel weird to wear We didn't win anything, some of the cast members were a little disappointed, I was happy. I was happy that in the end the production wasn't a complete piece of shit. The fact that nothing went horribly wrong is a bloody miracle. Under-rehearsed, ill-prepared, bad leadership, bad dynamics, combined with delusion and incompetence. Although most of my efforts went to waste I am happy to say that enough of it went in to ensure that without me, it would have been a lot more screwed up. At least in the end I could still get on stage in front of everyone today, and smile as they cheered. The special mention I got from one of the judges was another plus, but it was the acknowledgement from the audience that hit me the strongest. That's it, I'm joining Players next year. Music can wait two years, I think. It had so better. Labels: fragments, my weird opinion, myself, RP |
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Thanks For Acting Like You Cared - Thursday, August 4, 2011 @ 10:56 PM
This week I pressed my volume button on my phone while I was listening to music only to find the volume not increasing. After trying 2 more times I just kept hitting the increase volume button like a manic monkey.
Needless to say 5 seconds later I realised that my phone was lagging, and the sound that blasted my ears did permanent damage that will stay with me for a while. Shudder. Moving on to less stupid events. *********************************************************** Okay lah, this is pretty stupid. Lets just say everything I talked about yesterday, all the potential screw ups happened. Except for music, which got special mention. Hooray for me. So we all freaked out, ( I tried to play the role of a wronged martyr but Aidan beat me to it) and blah blah blah blah blah. We rehearsed a lot but I'm still not sure if its going to be enough to stop people from colliding into each other during scene transitions.. Zzt, one of them collided with a static object as he was running off today. One that was right in front of me. It was traumatizing. And I'll be getting props today...cause director didn't bring kitchen stuff, and the blouse didn't bloody fit me. (Lol the skirt did) Not that I can do anything. I'm already acting the best I can and they won't listen to me for anything else. I totally hated the way he told everyone "don't angst, don't shout" and proceeded to spend at least 3 hours just now with some pissed off face and yelling at everyone to stop talking and to shut up. So much for my happy ending. Heh. |
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I'm Just Trying To Survive - Wednesday, August 3, 2011 @ 10:08 PM
I'm scared.
I don't want people to come. I don't want them to come if the performance is going to suck. Yeah, acting wise we're pretty fine, and we've got the entire master plan figured out. Good job, the thing is, theatre is a precise art. Precision is necessary in almost everything. Not really acting though, but theatre is so much more than acting. Where you stand matters, cause the lightsman has about 60 lights in front of him. And they're not arranged in a very cute and easy to understand way. Its almost random, so he has to try out all 60 lights and then mark down where they are on another sheet of paper. So it means if you're not standing where you are, and the spotlight is somewhere else then...too bad. If you're frozen then the spotlight won't move to you, it can't move. If you're relying on the lightsman to find another spotlight where you are then....its down to luck. You can modify your lines quite a bit when you're acting, as long as your co actor is fine with it of course. Thing is he's not the only one following your cues. Lightsman! Oh yes, if you mess up your cue and your lightsman isn't super familiar with the play, don't be surprised when a spotlight doesn't come on or off. Its just not going to happen. Next, props. Yeah, I'm talking about the shtuff you move on and off the stage. The maybe 20 items you move for each scene. Who's going to bother about which side of the stage its going to be. Who's going to bring what on stage. Who's going to bring what off stage. Where do you put it in the darkness. How do you do it all in ten seconds or less. The only way around all of that is practice. And yes, you have to assign people to props one by one. If you don't you might end up with an extra table, a missing chair, huge clanking noises during the blackout, an extremely long pronounced and uncomfortable blackout or horrors upon horrors a stagehand caught on stage as the lights come on. Zzt. Luckily we have a full dress rehearsal. But by the time our dear director realises whats happening, it may be too late. Labels: rant |
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Don't Want The Train To Come - Tuesday, August 2, 2011 @ 8:39 PM
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No air - Monday, August 1, 2011 @ 12:04 AM
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Just like that, its over - Wednesday, August 31, 2011 @ 8:18 PM
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What I like about you - @ 5:48 PM
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And I do remember - @ 4:30 PM
"don't just look at things from the side of the victims. Understand that bullies have their fair share of unhappiness as well. They just don't know how to let go of their anger, their pent up frustration and issues. That's why I'm not against bullying, but i'm against letting kids with issues continue with their lives not knowing that there's another way out. Most definitely, I'm against family abuse, which is why, most kids bully others anyway." I didn't say anything cause I didn't want to start a fight. But just seeing this makes me feel very very uncomfortable. How many of you have been bullied. Just wondering? Maybe most of you don't know, but the worst type of bullying is not the type where a person gets disturbed by 3 or 4 people every recess and gets his money extorted. Not the type where a little kid gets labelled by an older kid and gets laughed at. The worst type of bullying is near universal. It happens everywhere. Its avoidance. Nothing needs to be done you see, you just avoid the person. Well that's not so bad now isn't it. Yeah wait till you have an entire class of people doing it. I've been the victim many times, and I can tell you drives you into depression. It's not like I've been put in terrible classes multiple times. It can happen anywhere. It's not just my class, its throughout the school level. I sincerely doubt its all down to family issues, unless you're telling me that most people have family issues and stick it to the remaining who don't, thus ensuring they have issues anyway. Its cruelty. Its cruelty indulged in by a multitude of people. You see, in these cases, a bully can simply and truly believe that he isn't wrong. That every mocking sneer, judging look that he indulges in is okay, cause the person deserves it. To these people, the person they're bullying can sometimes be sub-human. And when the person is sub-human, anything is justified. "don't just look at things from the side of the victims. Understand that bullies have their fair share of unhappiness as well. They just don't know how to let go of their anger, their pent up frustration and issues. Having unhappiness is not an excuse, especially if you're spreading it to others anyway. But if only bullying was only done by people who "have issues". Most people have. Even I have. This is why I did it. I did it cause I was afraid of falling out with the in crowd. Also cause that person was odd, and everyone thought so. Hanging out with him was uncool. Soon he became a figure to mock, someone you didn't want to be seen hanging out with. That's why many of them did it too. Cause they thought he was odd. And cause they didn't want to be odd by not expressing the same view. In the end it all comes down to issues with conformity, and insecurity issues that people have when they themselves are faced with the prospect of social isolation themselves. If any of you know anyone who's like that and are afraid of helping let me tell you this. The scary thing about bullying is that everyone is in it on one person. If there's two, suddenly its a lot less oppressive. At the very least you'd have someone you know who shares your experiences and whom you can talk to. And maybe you're thinking to yourself that heck, the person isn't worth it. I'm not risking my social status as well as innumerable hours of pain and suffering just to make him happier. Loneliness kills. If injustice isn't reason enough for you to act, just ask yourself, what's the worth of a life. Don't get me wrong, not all bullying victims commit suicide, most don't, but when you start pushing at someone's emotions and his mental well-being like that, you never know when he's going to snap. And if it does, will you be able to live with yourself. Just think about it. Labels: nightmares |
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We Don't Know How - Tuesday, August 30, 2011 @ 10:27 PM
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High and Dry - @ 12:18 AM
Funny how people can just walk into my life, blitz me for a while then walk right back out.
Its like I need them more then they need me. Yeah, that's probably it. Sigh. Labels: fragments |
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Hotel Curryfornia - Monday, August 29, 2011 @ 9:52 PM
I thought this was hilarious. Sigh Tan Cheng Bok, try again next time, I try to vote for you. ****************************************************************** The only thing useful about facebook I guess for me so far was getting a relook at the pics for Raffles Player's trip to London in December last year. This is the world famous Drury Lane theatre. Just sitting there in the audience seat and looking at the stage was awe inspiring. Take a look at the stage, see how far back it goes. Just look at the set. Theatre really comes alive in this place. I wish I could perform there one day...but I suppose that's one of those dreams destined to remain a dream. I've got plenty on my plate already. Labels: dreams, random pic, RP |
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The words we never said - Sunday, August 28, 2011 @ 8:31 PM
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Faded Luminescence - @ 7:43 PM
And its sad to think that after a year we're nothing more than strangers.
What's done's been done. And what's gone is gone. But I'm not blaming you, not at all. I guess, I wish things could've been a little different. Still, I don't regret....and I hope I'll never forget. That's all I have to lose right now. Long live. Labels: lost, nostalgia, open letter |
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Breathe - @ 1:56 PM
You know what. What the hell is it. Why don't people take me seriously. How many times, how many bloody effing times do I have to say it. How obvious do I have to get.
Stop it. It's not your right to do it. I don't even have to tell you not to do it. Don't act chummy with me. And you, what the hell. Stop patronizing me. You know what, both of you. Stop bloody patronizing me. When I say something I mean it, why can't you respect that. Especially after I've said it, time and time and time and again. What do I have to do? Hit you? And it's not like you're very close to me are you? Remember how we "became" friends? Remember how you treated me before? Yeah. I remember, even if you don't. And you, stop treating me like that. I don't know what you think of me all the time, but I know it isn't good. And that's what I don't like. Stop thinking that. Stop thinking oh its Ian going off again on another Ian rant. He's just being him. He's just like that. No. I'm not like that. I'm a person just like you and I thought I could trust you cause you know I expect you to not treat me like less than human. Maybe I think differently from you, but surely that doesn't make me inferior. Or am I? To you? Everytime you say something like, fine think that way. Everytime you don't even bother to argue you imply that oh well, if you're so screwed up and want to think that way its not my problem. What the hell. I'm not inferior. I'm not some retard who's impervious to logic and you know when I'm trying to be honest and say what I truly feel if its so unimportant to you I think to myself why heck I even bother. Fine, since you're so superior then I guess you don't need me right. Fine. Fine. Labels: open letter, rant |
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My Ponderous Existence - Saturday, August 27, 2011 @ 7:38 PM
Someone today said something about her parents not willing to let go. I said I had the same problem too, but is that really it? I don't know. A lot of me tells me I'm wrong.
I don't know, maybe that's the case for my mother, I'm pretty sure of that I guess. But as for my father....I don't know. I think I should be old enough to be over that I hate my parents phase. And I think I can say that this time, I'm really sure I don't like them, and it isn't for no reason. Its like I stopped feeling a sense of love from my father for a very long time and its just degenerated whatever relationship we used to have, if it even was there at all. Though affection is certainly more than physical expression, I can't remember when was the last time I got a hug from the both of them, and the time has come and passed when I actually wanted them to. Now...its like I'm past caring and I don't want one from them. I don't know, maybe you think its a small thing, but....I really wished someone would come and hug me. Someone I actually cared about. I'm not asking....but I remember asking. It was terrible from me and for that person. It's very weird, perhaps a little sappy and soft to say but I guess there's nowhere else I can say it. I just feel so unloved at times. Oh but for a little reprieve. |
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Summer blooms - Friday, August 26, 2011 @ 6:47 PM
Why is it that when I get frustrated at the most trivial of things I get so angry.
A game being harder or more unfair than I expected. It makes me so angry I shout and scream. It puts me in a bad mood. I wonder if I have a swirling cesspit of malice and hatred within me. Cause that's what it seems like.... It totally spoils puzzle games for me. Or any games that involve a certain degree of luck. I don't know. It can seem like the games work against logic , that certain things happen in a weird unfair way for no particular reason. Just maybe bad luck. Except its sustained bad luck. Then I get angry. Very angry. But I shouldn't. Its not like this when I play games with other people. But still... It's not healthy. Something's not right with me.
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Can't Stand on My Own - @ 4:37 PM
And its nearly been a year, and I can't believe its been so long.
Sigh. Feels like forever. ******************************************************* I hate to think that some people think I'm arrogant, but its true. I'd certainly like to think I'm not. I could ask them to come try and actually talk to me, except that I don't want them to. Sigh. Am I too aggressive? Yes..... I wish I could fix that. I'm too afraid of being overlooked or trampled over. She's right. I'm way too tense. Anyone know how to teach someone how to relax? I don't think so, but I gotta learn anyway. |
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You Can't Get In My Way - Thursday, August 25, 2011 @ 9:36 PM
~~*During Chemistry*~~
I *holding up molecular model* : Hey mine looks like a question mark. H: Yeah its like you. I: A testament to my inquisitive mind! H: More like your questionable existence. Burned. Labels: fragments |
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Scissoring Blowback - Monday, August 22, 2011 @ 5:46 PM
And in a twinkle of the eye, the assassin sidesteps the backstab.
Ooh la la. You're getting to slick for them aren't ya Ian. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I always thought it was hilarious how Shakespeare felt necessary to describe his character's deaths in stage directions. For fear of that, I still will stay with thee, And never from this palace of dim night Depart again. Here, here will I remain With worms that are thy chamber maids. Oh, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last. Arms, take your last embrace. And, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death. (kisses JULIET, takes out the poison) Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide. Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks thy seasick, weary bark. Here’s to my love! (drinks the poison) O true apothecary, Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. Whenever I see those two words I tell you I cannot prevent myself from giggling a little. haha. Labels: fragments, my weird opinion, random |
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Catch Me In Your Arms - Sunday, August 21, 2011 @ 7:48 PM
I feel so brain dead right now.
Being sick sucks. I am so not going to school tomorrow. I can't sleep cause I already slept for hours. And I hate staying up cause I feel like crap and there's nothing to do. You know what the worst part of crashing in the afternoon when you're sick is? Its later at night, when you wake up at 2am, and roll about in your feverish madness. Hopelessly trying to go back to sleep, sweating, tossing and not knowing when you're in sleep or not. Nigtmares fuse with reality, dread, horror and sweat. You're tired but you can't go away. There is no reprieve in sleep, there is no reprieve in consciousness. I flit between a warped dreamscape and a numbed reality. I really hate being sick. Labels: myself, nightmares |
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Drifting through the wind - @ 12:01 AM
Heh and sometimes you wonder if you should just forget it and talk to that person.
But then you wonder if you would be disturbing that person. But then you remember that you really feel lost and perhaps you crave that person's attention a little if not a lot. That you perhaps enjoy that person's presence. Then you realise that life's not about you. So heck you just forget it and let it rest. Bother. And you satisfy yourself with leaving stupid messages that you hope other people will pick up upon. All the time, speaking quintessentially in third person. Actually its second person. Yeah. You start to remember the first time you encounter the word second person. Between first and third person, and you tell yourself, who the heck writes in second person. Its retarded. The answer : me. haha. Labels: fragments, my weird opinion |
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Cheers to Love - Friday, August 19, 2011 @ 9:15 PM
And sometimes I need intensity to blow away my sorrow.
********************************************************* Midnight in the city. He shifted in his seat on the back of the bus. His hands digging into the subtly grime covered pseudo cushions he sat upon, he stared out the window. They said the city never sleeps, the unearthly orange glow of the streetlights confirmed it, forming a highway in the darkness where the shadows fled. Still, there was a quiet about the night and a strange way where every single sound made by the creaking vehicle which was carrying him onwards echoed out beneath the starless grey sky. He found his body pressed slightly uncomfortably against the left window as the bus turned, off the highway and onto another long straight road. The lights were dimmer, the blackness closer and endless, broken only by the occasional hanging branch or overgrown leaf hanging out from behind its veil. On and on the bus travelled, the seats swaying up and down in an almost rhythmic fashion, down that long winding road. Its two headlights forming two ovalish pools of brightness before the slow moving vehicle. A spot of brightness in a world of nothing. The darkness closed in on the bus, and so did time. He awoke to find himself alone on the bus. He was the only passenger. Rubbing his bleary eyes he checked his watch. 3:00 a.m. He looked beyond the glass and saw the moon in the sky, but nothing else. The moon. The road. The bus. The constant lights. The bus no longer bobbed up and down, but he could feel the hum of the engine, and could see the streetlamps passing by. He looked through the windscreen of the bus and saw the road stretching out into forever, disappearing as the gloom swallowed it up, the edge of darkness never closer than it was before though the bus steadily travelled forwards. It isn't, his mind whispered to him. Something was definitely wrong, bus services didn't run at this time anyway, and though he had probably missed his stop, he was sure that he would have at least picked something familiar out in the landscape. The landscape. There was none, none that he could see. Just the moon, the streetlamps and the road; the latter two long blended and blurred into insignificance, till they became as constant as the moon itself. Unchanging. He rose unsurely from his seat, tottering as he stood more from uncertainty than the fresh tingling sensation of cramped limbs. Pushing past two empty seats and a pole, he paused halfway down the aisle, his footsteps sounding hollowly against the floor, dominating the relative silence of the bus. "Hello...?" he called out to the bus driver hidden from his view and got no reply. He stood there, straining for any sound beyond the by now all too familiar. The engine kept humming as panic and fear slowly began to grow within him. Hesitantly he took another step forward, and his foot impacted the floor like an anvil. His heart beat furiously in his chest, and he waited. Silence. As he crept his way forward very soon he began to make out a figure hunched over the steering wheel. It didn't move, but only kept it's eyes forward, staring straight into the road ahead. He couldn't make anything out in the distance either. He would've called out, but again his mind screamed at him that something was wrong. Even so, he found himself right behind it and reached out a hand. He stopped short of it's shoulder and paused. He stood there, almost as if in a trance, caught between his fear of what would happen, and struggling against his need to end his predicament. Suddenly it became very clear in his mind that his situation was certainly very out of the ordinary. Uncertainty and trepidation blossomed into fear and full blown panic as he stumbled away. Away from that thing which he was certain was not human, as far away as he could. Back, back to where he had been, the seat at the back. He shivered as settled back into the cramped space, sitting upright in his seat he watched the unchanging nothing beyond the window and the moon far and beyond, ever changing but still the same. And as the cold descended on him, he found his eyes tiring, the dread and gloom creeping up on him ever so slowly. He huddled up in his sweater, pulling the folds tighter around him. Five minutes, ten minutes, an hour, it did not matter. His watch had stopped working at 3:01 a.m. and there was no one to tell him how much time had passed. The moon would not. The sun would not. He reached to scratch his back, but then realised that his arm could not move, and so he closed his eyes and went to sleep, surrendering to the dark even as he felt the chilling numbness spread throughout his limbs. |
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Think I know where you belong - Wednesday, August 17, 2011 @ 10:46 PM
"Remember, there's no right and wrong in songwriting. There's just good and bad."
- A certain local songwriter *********************************************************** Today, walking through Junction 8 I noticed a girl of about twenty clutching a silver Esquire flyer, looking worried and lost, leaning against the wall, eyes searching the crowd for someone. As I continued on amidst the busy flow of people I noticed another a minor disturbance, a person who stood out. Instead of bustling, scurrying or striding her way forward, she circled a spot, directionless and aimless. Moving closer, I saw she was a woman of about forty, she seemed almost frantic. She was scanning the throng of people for someone too, and shouted a foreign name into the wall of noise, futile. She clutched a silver Esquire flyer in her hand. I considered talking to her, and perhaps pointing her in the direction of the girl, the possibly of embarrassment wrestling with a voice inside me telling me to help her in her distress. I decided that potentially helping her would be worth the potential cost, and I walked right by her without slowing down or saying a word. |
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Be still, my heart - Monday, August 15, 2011 @ 11:54 PM
Sometimes I get all sad for no reason.
There's so much within me that I can't get at. That my mind hides from me. Its not exactly like what they say, no recollection of those traumatic events. They aren't traumatic like what they say in the reports. At least I think. I still know certain things happened. I still know its not like I got raped or what. Its not that severe. At the same time, my mind still doesn't let me remember. I can remember big details, but not the small things. But its the small things that hurt me. The small things that I cannot dig up. I can't forgive. And when I can't forgive, I can't forget. How can I move on? Sigh. Labels: confused, feelings, myself, nightmares, sanity |
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Let it go - @ 7:43 PM
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Hoped You Were There - Saturday, August 13, 2011 @ 7:45 PM
Something big's happening here with Caracal.
And Inch just blows me away with her acoustic covers all the time. Labels: music |
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Give an Inch, take a mile - Friday, August 12, 2011 @ 10:03 PM
Have I mentioned how much I love this girl's music? I managed to drag Ming Jie down to catch her today, good thing cause without him I wouldn't have dared to camp backstage to try to get her autograph. ...which I didn't get cause I didn't you know have a pen or paper or marker or anything. But I got a photo! I was actually pretty uh lost for words when I met her, and thanks to Ming Jie again, he managed to talk us through most of the thing. I really wanted to tell her how much she means to me, especially as the local music scene looks so hopeless, she keeps going on despite it all. SXSW. What an achievement really. To see a local born and bred Singaporean make it all the way there...really lets me keep dreaming. Rock on shorties. Yeah! |
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Life just got a little cranky - Thursday, August 11, 2011 @ 8:22 PM
Bad nose, bad wrist, messed up earphones = Bored Ian who feels like crap.
No music. No one to talk to. Bad day. Argh. Very frustrated Ian. Very frustrated Ian wants random conversation. Preferably with female company. Talking to boys makes him oh so tired. Yes, very frustrated Ian needs to be talked to by a high personality at the very least. Hmmmmm Something or someone that will make him forget his bloody nose for a while. BLOODY HELL. CAN'T SING, CAN'T PLAY A SONG, CAN'T EAT PROPERLY, CAN'T THINK PROPERLY, CAN'T LISTEN TO MUSIC, CAN'T TALK TO ANYONE. WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY. Zzt, I'll go talk to someone. On a side note, I really hate my nose. Whenever it goes off like this its always too either too hot or too cold. *CHOO* Labels: my weird opinion, myself, random |
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Homebound - Wednesday, August 10, 2011 @ 7:30 PM
I don't know about you, but for me (I'm sorry if its really obvious) music really touches me.
There's just something about even the simplest of pop songs, if done in seriousness that allows me to feel. To feel deeply. I think the most important thing is heart. Heart meaning genuine emotion, after all how can a listener be inspired to feel something by something fake, something not real. Maybe movies came to mind, television shows, acting. Its a game of pretend that is, but yet audiences can laugh, can cry, can sigh as the characters on the screen go through their own fake emotions and fake conflicts. The thing is, actors have to feel too. When you perform, if you're only acting, the audience can tell. The best performers know that they have to feel what they expect to let the audience feel. Still, in the end, music connects with my soul the deepest. Maybe its cause I'm impatient. After all, if I'm sad, I won't sit myself down to watch a tv show or movie. I'll plug myself down to a sad song for three or four minutes of indulgence. Then again, if I don't replay the song I usually go over to the next sad song, and if I want I can keep at it for hours. I don't know, I find something very personal about music. Maybe its that you only need one person and an instrument to produce music, or as some might argue, simply a voice. Its like a confessional, writing a song. Especially with some songwriters. Those who draw deeply from personal experiences. A lot of times its about telling a story. A story of a person. A real person. Of course it can be made up sometimes. I don't know. In the end it is like movies and tv I suppose. A story to tell. Heartbreak, love, grief. Don't really need another reason to listen now do you? Labels: music |
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Friday Is Forever - @ 3:39 PM
And sometimes you really want to give it all for one wish.
Just one. But things aren't always about what you want. In fact, just about never. Sigh. ************************************** Hold me down, and I'll carry you home. We've got too much to lose. ************************************** There isn't a better feeling than knowing someone's got your back and you've got theirs. Watch what you say and listen to the world. Cause sometimes you only need one person to live for, and you don't know who you might be that one person to. Think about it ************************************** They say you don't know what you'll miss most till its gone. Them was right. Labels: fragments |
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It Feels Too Right - Tuesday, August 9, 2011 @ 9:45 PM
Maybe you don't need the whole world to love you, maybe you only need one person- Kermit The Frog
I didn't know he had a tv show or whatever. Still.....he's right *************************************** Its better to try and fail than not try at all. Or is it better to not speak and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt. Oh common wisdom, on which side do you truly stand. |
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I Let My Heart Go - Monday, August 8, 2011 @ 8:42 PM
I have really bad people withdrawal.
If you know what I mean. I get jittery, and its not like I don't have anyone else I want to talk to. Its just that things are awkward, and I'm afraid to start. Caught. Zzt, if only I had something to take my mind off this. Oh, save me already. Labels: myself |
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Pulling in the wrong direction - @ 7:26 PM
I wish it were so easy. It isn't.
But since when is that enough excuse for me not to do something. Especially if its right? Weakness. That's one of the things I fear within myself, but since its there I might as well do something about it. I'll get all the help I can. And I think, luckily I have all the help I need. Yes, I do. Suddenly my primary school anthem comes to mind. Go forward, onward, ever to the light Go forward, and serve, the Lord our God. |
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Hey, sounds like me - Sunday, August 7, 2011 @ 5:48 PM
"III. FICTIONPRESS!
I've been back to reading :D and I really admire this author in fictionpress because she shares the same ideologies as me and everything! Except for her ideas on 'Mr Right' and mine. LOL. In terms of outward appearances, we have the same taste but for personality, it's kinda different. heh. She seems to favour insecure guys who are WAY too sensitive. I prefer guys that believe in themselves, but not overly so, and guys that can take a few jabs and give a few back, even. LOL. Haha but we both like black / dark-brown haired guys (I don't understand the whole obsession for blondes thing) with intense (but NOT scary. intense in the addictive way) eyes. Okay, ANYWAY..." Why she never mention the author one. Besides, sounds like me right? (; Who knows, who knows. Sorry this is bloody random and stupid. Like most of the stuff hair. (here, I mean, that was random) Sudden realisation. Heck. Everything sounds like me nowadays. |
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IKRRRR - @ 5:34 PM
One burden lifts from my back, another steps into place.
At least it gave me a burst of energy as it ended, though that little package of happiness is fading even as I type. Its paradoxial, I want to sleep cause I'm tired, at the same time I can't sleep cause if I just did, tomorrow would come quicker. Aiyah, its only one day of school, suck it up. ************************************************ I was going to write a story, but I think writing prompts aren't really my thing. I think I realised that after I typed out pink and yellow daisies and tried to think of a story. I better stick to my old motto. Only write when inspiration strikes. Don't force it. Yeah! Take it slow and simple. Labels: my weird opinion |
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When Decisions Make Themselves - @ 12:32 AM
What I learnt. Or merely confirmed.
1. Just cause everyone asks you to shut up, doesn't mean you're wrong 2. Dignity is possible to be retained in all circumstances (almost at least) 3. Skirts feel weird to wear We didn't win anything, some of the cast members were a little disappointed, I was happy. I was happy that in the end the production wasn't a complete piece of shit. The fact that nothing went horribly wrong is a bloody miracle. Under-rehearsed, ill-prepared, bad leadership, bad dynamics, combined with delusion and incompetence. Although most of my efforts went to waste I am happy to say that enough of it went in to ensure that without me, it would have been a lot more screwed up. At least in the end I could still get on stage in front of everyone today, and smile as they cheered. The special mention I got from one of the judges was another plus, but it was the acknowledgement from the audience that hit me the strongest. That's it, I'm joining Players next year. Music can wait two years, I think. It had so better. Labels: fragments, my weird opinion, myself, RP |
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Thanks For Acting Like You Cared - Thursday, August 4, 2011 @ 10:56 PM
This week I pressed my volume button on my phone while I was listening to music only to find the volume not increasing. After trying 2 more times I just kept hitting the increase volume button like a manic monkey.
Needless to say 5 seconds later I realised that my phone was lagging, and the sound that blasted my ears did permanent damage that will stay with me for a while. Shudder. Moving on to less stupid events. *********************************************************** Okay lah, this is pretty stupid. Lets just say everything I talked about yesterday, all the potential screw ups happened. Except for music, which got special mention. Hooray for me. So we all freaked out, ( I tried to play the role of a wronged martyr but Aidan beat me to it) and blah blah blah blah blah. We rehearsed a lot but I'm still not sure if its going to be enough to stop people from colliding into each other during scene transitions.. Zzt, one of them collided with a static object as he was running off today. One that was right in front of me. It was traumatizing. And I'll be getting props today...cause director didn't bring kitchen stuff, and the blouse didn't bloody fit me. (Lol the skirt did) Not that I can do anything. I'm already acting the best I can and they won't listen to me for anything else. I totally hated the way he told everyone "don't angst, don't shout" and proceeded to spend at least 3 hours just now with some pissed off face and yelling at everyone to stop talking and to shut up. So much for my happy ending. Heh. |
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I'm Just Trying To Survive - Wednesday, August 3, 2011 @ 10:08 PM
I'm scared.
I don't want people to come. I don't want them to come if the performance is going to suck. Yeah, acting wise we're pretty fine, and we've got the entire master plan figured out. Good job, the thing is, theatre is a precise art. Precision is necessary in almost everything. Not really acting though, but theatre is so much more than acting. Where you stand matters, cause the lightsman has about 60 lights in front of him. And they're not arranged in a very cute and easy to understand way. Its almost random, so he has to try out all 60 lights and then mark down where they are on another sheet of paper. So it means if you're not standing where you are, and the spotlight is somewhere else then...too bad. If you're frozen then the spotlight won't move to you, it can't move. If you're relying on the lightsman to find another spotlight where you are then....its down to luck. You can modify your lines quite a bit when you're acting, as long as your co actor is fine with it of course. Thing is he's not the only one following your cues. Lightsman! Oh yes, if you mess up your cue and your lightsman isn't super familiar with the play, don't be surprised when a spotlight doesn't come on or off. Its just not going to happen. Next, props. Yeah, I'm talking about the shtuff you move on and off the stage. The maybe 20 items you move for each scene. Who's going to bother about which side of the stage its going to be. Who's going to bring what on stage. Who's going to bring what off stage. Where do you put it in the darkness. How do you do it all in ten seconds or less. The only way around all of that is practice. And yes, you have to assign people to props one by one. If you don't you might end up with an extra table, a missing chair, huge clanking noises during the blackout, an extremely long pronounced and uncomfortable blackout or horrors upon horrors a stagehand caught on stage as the lights come on. Zzt. Luckily we have a full dress rehearsal. But by the time our dear director realises whats happening, it may be too late. Labels: rant |
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Don't Want The Train To Come - Tuesday, August 2, 2011 @ 8:39 PM
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No air - Monday, August 1, 2011 @ 12:04 AM
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Just another starstruck (see above for evidence*) wanderer trying to find his way in this horribly confusing and sometimes messed up world. This space as you might have realised is for my own venting. It's where I talk, to myself. To the universe. It's where I don't lie. Much. Chances are you won't get more truth out of me than these few billion pages of angst. My life isn't that bad. Sometimes. The good parts just usually end up being the blank dates in between the posts you see. So yes, just to practice my math and to cheer myself up a little, the number of posts is inversely proportional to my mental wellbeing. Yes that counts as math with me. And despite the wry smile on my face and the grin I can imagine on yours, I'm still rather sombre. I promise you I'm sunny somedays. Stick around. You never know what you may learn. *hint may or may not be in big black font at the top of the page.
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Inspiration .
Previous Posts: No, I'm not back. ; Bursting Glowdrops ; Dreary Bits ; Dream Fairy ; Write me please ; Antigen Nose Hook ; Destiny Neck Scan ; I'll be okay ; My Rampant Oxen ; Assign and Eject ; Previous Months: November 1995 ; December 2009 ; January 2010 ; February 2010 ; March 2010 ; April 2010 ; May 2010 ; June 2010 ; July 2010 ; August 2010 ; September 2010 ; October 2010 ; November 2010 ; December 2010 ; January 2011 ; February 2011 ; March 2011 ; April 2011 ; May 2011 ; June 2011 ; July 2011 ; August 2011 ; September 2011 ; October 2011 ; November 2011 ; December 2011 ; January 2012 ; February 2012 ; March 2012 ; April 2012 ; May 2012 ; June 2012 ; July 2012 ; August 2012 ;
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