never underestimate the power of a vogue magazine, hungrily devoured in dim lights with harry connick jr crooning in the background, in a cleaned up room with chinese draping over the desk and a many coloured tower of books and notebooks by the bedside, to be read and filled after the last page of vogue.

borrowed a book of thai phrases. getting ready to walk siam square with my bright blue adidas sneakers gotten in a five minute stress spree. i'm finishing up fitzgerald.

sat night - balaclava with the sailing gang. the outside was really relaxing and the ambiance, cool with its controlled splashes of red and black. must have been the people too, comfortable conversation with lots of crap from c. w with her swishy short skirt and b with her swishy smooth top. lime juice cos i'd have to rise early the next day, and porridge supper at chinatown with b and w and their volunteer friends.

last week i met up with shu and caroline. pat thai by the esplanade. talks of travel, of canada, work and the otherhalves, our first loves and girlish batter about the whys and whats, and reminder that the grass is not always greener on the other side and to work hard.

managed to clean up my room today, save for the sorting out of notes. realised how little i wrote in my diary in 2003 and 2004 and aims to write several pages everyday. the intimate stuff. the closet-self stuff. will iron my wardrobe over tv later.

make christmas cards. attempt an 8 - 10 km later in the evening before dinner.

wait for MY CHOY to return home.

the last image of p, happy-faced on the bus from school laughing with his friends. i'd like to keep that image in my mind though we weren't close at all.

more

more
than the greatest love the world
has known,
this
is the love i'll give to you
alone
more
than the simple words
i've tried to say
i'll only live to love you
more each day
more than you'll ever know.
my arms long to hold you so
my life will be in your keepin,'
wakin'... sleepin'...laughin'...
weepin'.
longer
than always is a long, long time,
but far beyond forever
you'll be mine
i know i've never lived before
and my heart is very sure
no one else could love you more

harry connick jr. croons on his new album ee jie bought. he always makes my heart and mind stop for a beat and dwell on a feeling of longing and bliss whenever i hear him sing his love songs. esp so since it was the sweet trumpeter who introduced me to harry connick jr. many years ago . i'm switchin' over from the morose indulgently depressing soundtrack of 2046 to the happy lingering lovin' of harry connick junior while i continue to pack my room and read fitzgerald, it is the right type of music to listen to when reading his books. thailand beckons. this weekend tanjung pinang with the whole loh clan, then monday to thurs is chiangmai and then pattaya then bangkok. shopping with my second sis. i'm glad i'm going on hoilday with her alone, i mean besides dad. cos it's been a long time since we went out together, number two and number three although we sleep in the same room.

too many days with no exercise so today i did forty laps at the pool. it felt great. left over energy from past few days so i wasn't tired. energised. and i started on balzac's Eugenie Grandet. i think after this i will go find Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress : A Novel by Dai Sijie and maybe borrow the vcd of the show from the library if they do have it there. or find Cousin Bette by Balzac cos it's used in the film, in a way. well. it's such a wonderful tale, many of the scenes are still poignant in my mind. went green tea hunting today. wanted twinings but it was gone from all the stores! they're promoting their fruit and flowers range maybe that's why? i settled on the M&S one which is not bad too, a tad more expensive though.

i think, it is for me. hardwork, not sudden magical aptness.

i tend to want to sleep on the mattress these days cos then i can bring down the table lamp and drape my lime green chinese print cloth over my head and the lamp's head and read fitzgerald and today i did that again but instead i read the letters the sweet trumpeter wrote to me when we were in jc, partly stored up in the 50s vavavoom lady puzzle box. i think you are too wonderful to be true. the porcelain sailboat windchime is still in the box cos i think it'd be too noisy for my family but i'm sure when we have a little corner of the world for ourselves i'd hang it up, for sure. i would so love to travel with you somewhere. it makes me sad that i'm not there to experience the holiday with you and do what you're doing too, with the little perks thrown in like you combing your fingers through my hair and putting your arm around me at random moments. ooh ooh i can't wait to see you in those penguin polo tops you bought! i'm sure you will be looking so huggable.

this entry reads like a personal love letter. are you reading it from the australian connection over there? i wanted to swim today but it rained so i will swim tomorrow do or die. also i thought about you alot today that's why i was hiding under the silk chinese cloth with the table lamp reading the letters. choy-o-mine, i think we don't have enough pictures of you and me together.

i think writing letters are so romantic. i'd like to be able to read love letters from the past when i'm seventy, and have you write more to me then still too! i know i'll still be writing letters to you when i am that old, but i promise my handwriting will be magnified many times and neatly printed so you won't have to read aloud and have me stand by your side to correct you whenever you read something off wrong because my handwriting's too bad. haha, it is rather fun, and it's cos, there's so much more thoughts that spill into my head i can't get them into paper on time.

also, sweet trumpeter, i had kway chup for lunch with the daddy and the brother. it was delicious. what're you eating in perth right now?

london-longing, toronto-longing, snow-cold-longing.

i'm sure someone has that extra ticket to a snow place they don't need.
after spending last december in beautiful canada, white christmas and all, i'm sure no christmas will ever feel the same again here in tropical singapore. only the christmas tracks on my 2046 soundtrack reflects that kind of feeling i felt when i was there in the land of snow and so i keep listening to it. i keep going to town to try and seek out that christmas vibe that will make me feel even remotely close to what i felt last year, no doubt it may be something commercial or untruths on some intellectual levels, but i feel things are always transient now and i'm always trying to find the same vibe of that one occassion.

so truly i am london-longing. which i get a pinch of in the dec issue of vogue the sweet trumpeter got for me at borders on saturday. not merely that i guess, canada-longing and new york-loning too. no i guess i should do something about it. desperate for tuition job/jobs. i'm sure there are some students in yishun needing some help in english and/or lit. will is the word of the week.

so MY CHOY has gone to australia, for a week. two weekend days spent with him after not having met him for ages is simply not enough. i love it best when we sit down and people-watch and cuddle and talk or be silent for some moments. i really think we are totally in sync. so this week will be spent meeting up with the girlfriends not having exams, trying to finally practice all the recipes i've been reading, planning stuff. making christmas cards. cleaning up my room; i'm trying to make it cosy like it was in hostel so i rearranged my furninture. i have mostly dark wood furniture in my room so it's a rather earthy theme; brought down my rosetti print from the store and put up more pictures. back to writing in my purple diary. still the same thick book from when i was nineteen, bought from the paperchase building in london. i shall aim to fill the book up soon and i can start on a new journal. how i love to fill them lineless white pages with words. and probably borrow plath's journal to read again, i can never get enough of her phrases, her depth of experience that she articulates so well and non-methodically, it's so real it hurts.

focus comes when one is sure of the path? somehow at this moment the heart and mind are trying to reconnect on the same plane. it's either a case of never reconnecting on this issue, or just a little adjustment that needs to be made, to rid me of those distractions. holiday detox. mental and physical. will go running tomorrow morning. today's swim was most unsatisfactory. gonna make this holiday a good one, it's too short! spending time with my siblings back home is such a lovely thing. laughing at the bitching on tv's reality show, talking nonsense and stuff. it really is like a little girly group thing, of course with my little brother always involved with his straightfaced reactions and spontaneous hugs and wiser-than-me-sometimes advice.

Last sunday's episode of gilmore girls was so aww-inducing.the scene with luke listening to those help tapes and the speaker was asking those questions and you see the light in luke's eyes and the next day just before the show ended when he went to lorelei's home in the morning? i am SO excited!

room

topsy turvy shot. rainbow bridge. here canada, there america. i wanna go to to america.

had,

camomile honey and vanilla tea

black cherry browne's yoghurt

i really like twinning's selections of tea. affordable variety.

tomorrow the trippy suburbanite will have lunch with the sweet trumpeter.

one more theme for movie marathon. perhaps. a woodstock era theme. we can do annie hall.

currently addicted to jazzy soulful renditions of christmas carols. swimming is a drug. it is also an antidote. twenty two laps appeases my soul. i'm addicted to a certain someone's voice. i bought a mars bar from the supermarket. i did some readings at starbucks, disappointingly they did not play christmas carols so i listenened to mahler and classical sounds and had a peppermint tea. i can't wait for movie dessert marathons. swimming makes you want to hug everybody. endorphins, tis powerful stuff. nat king cole and mel tomei croon merry christmas to you. it rained and thus i am motivated to read. woolf, eliot and balzac stares at me from the shelf above. soon. soon.

i really love the liberal arts. ack. argh.

holidays, i live for these, perhaps then it's not a good sigh.
madam woolf, soon. await. i am longing for caving into the labyrinth and hiding in the shadows with nothing but many books.

it's like that all the time. ignoring the guilt that sneaked up upon me, that i was suppose to be an enthusiastic aki student devouring books from the archi section, i let myself wander into the literature section, and i borrowed some books, stopping myself at three. i can't ignore this pulse. old crinkled versions of balzac, woolf and george eliot. oh so sweet you know, i felt like i was at home, i felt so excited looking all the titles i almost danced. essay on urban topics due on fri, the literature books they sit here by my computer to motivate me to finish with the essay so i can read through the night.

these days less abstractions more narrative. but i must not let myself lose in the pace. i always lose the pace quickly. my mind is never grounded.

mock hyperventilating. strong urge to be at a starbucks abroad with my cafe americano reading reading reading. what is right? what is desirable? i am at the point of time, contemplating change, but am not sure whether to even trust myself that change is essential. or rather, what do i need to change? argh. symbolic death come quick so that i can rise out of the ashes knowing and being sure. what rubbish. we can never be sure. surely, this is nonsensical blabbering. oof.

watched this today. clean from the french film fest i missed. you know i can start afresh.

EMILY
It's over, really over. I stopped everything.

IRENE
Do you know how often I hear that in my office?
...Sorry but I've known you long enough....And I know how you can lie...

EMILY
I've changed.

IRENE
People don't change.

EMILY
That's your take on things. It isn't mine.

travel. train station. quebec city. after the snowstorm.nearly a year back

focus.

on what?

a couple of quotes from a friend. hopefully it lifts me out of this rift and gets me going.

Fear is the mind killer. - Frank Herbert, Dune

I am always doing things I can't do, that's how I get to do them. - Pablo Picasso

The past is an illusion. You must learn to live in the present and accept yourself for what you are now. What you lack in flexibility and agility you must make up with knowledge and constant practice. - Bruce Lee

chill chill chill. coffee, cake, insightful conversation. great beautiful friends i long to hug. soon. christmas, the tinsel and christmas carols and all. commercialised, bah. i love it all. it's a surreal bubble i find myself walking about looking at all this around me. this year suddenly christmas came without any warning. let me release my fear for the future and my guilt from the past that rises neck-high and almost engulfs my whole being. i will gai guo zhi xin. i will strive to be good, better, best. neutralised, born again. this christmas i'm pure, cleansed, untouched. as madam plath would say, i'm "a clean slate, with (my) own face on it"

i love my big family. i love that we all squash into the car and talk non stop in the car at home at dinner and we have all acquired skill of talking at the same time while listening to what everybody else is saying. this noise, it's good. so after church we all went for lunch the went to visit uncle and grandma then later we went to buckeroo's grill restaurant at sembawang for dinner. it was overpriced and the food was way below expectations. then we drove over to the beach and had ice cream chatting and taking pictures with ee jie's digicam non stop. we really are a fun family i so love our brand of cosy-ness.

holiday time. which means reading time too. anyone has good book/books to recommend? please do so.

i've recently been introduced to new music and i must say new discoveries are always a good thing. gotta churn out my essay now.

time to learn some thai before the 6th of dec.

MY CHOY, remember we have to go hunt for penguin polo ts. we can take photos of those old shopping centres too. we'll just trot around with cameras slung round our necks.

a t-shirt print that actually takes ref from to kill a mockingbird. neat.

beautiful things! beautiful things! oh so many beautiful things!

i had a great swim. plenty of lane space. rigorous twenty laps.

but, 2046 has ended its cinema screenings. why? oh why? why so soon?????

the adagio from the 2046 soundtrack? so sad.

i hunger words, thoughts, so word-famished am i it hurts my guts and makes me cry out inside. i shall so totally indulge in leo tolstoy's war and peace after this week. i have to seek refuge in a thick book that will take me places since i am stuck firmly here in this space, in this era.

my utmost for his highest, 11th nov

"...take now thy son...genesis 22.2 - God's command is -Take now, not presently...the sacrifice is gone through in will before it is performed actually...always guard against self chosen service for GOd; self sacrifice may be a disease. If God has made your cup sweet, drink it with grace; if He has made it bitter, drink it in communion with Him, If the providential order of God for you is a hard time of difficulty, gto through with it, but never choose the scene of your martydom...if you are not living in touch with Him, it is easy to pass a crude verdict on God. You must go through the crucible before you haev any right to pronounce a verdict, because in the crucible you learn to know God better. GOd is working for His highest ends until His purpose and man's purpose become one..."


appropriated. it is no more difficult than i make it to be. this is no juggernaut. it can be but one of those ancient interstices amongst what is more important. i always create a mountain for myself. it is but a light step only. i fly.

my utmost for his highest. nov 10th.

"...if you seek great things for yourself - GOd has called me for this and that' you are putting a barrier to God's use of you. As long as you have a personal interest in your own character, or any set ambition, you cannot get through into identification with God's interests. You can only get there by losing forever any idea of yourself and by letting God take you right out into His purpose. His purpose for the world, and because your goings are of the Lord, you can never understand your ways...

...i have to learn that the aim in life is God's, not mine. God is using me from His great personal standpoint, and all He asks of me is that i trust Him, and never say - Lord, this gives me such a headache. TO talk in that way makes me a clog. when i stop telling God what i want, He can catch me up for what He wants without let or hindrance. He can crumple me up or exalt me. He can do anything He chooses. He simply asks me to have implicit faith in Himself and in His goodness. Self-pity is of the devil; if i go off on that line i cannot be used by God for His purpose in the world. i have a 'world within the world'in which i live and GOd will never be able to get me outside it because i am afraid of being frost bitten"

quebec city
sigh. snow.

the sweet trumpeter, he sent me this:

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. If turnips were watches, I would wear one by my side. And if "ifs" and "ands" Were pots and pans, There'd be no work for tinkers!

a haunting desire to fictionalise my life made me purchase the soundtrack of 2046. it has some cool movie cards included.

i don't know why i have a sudden urge to bob my hair short and sweet again but no i think i like long hair for now. maybe in january i might do a bob.

gave in to my craving and went for a swim nearby. could have done more but after twenty laps the people started coming. i saw cashiers wearing santa caps, i saw tinsel and christmas tree stars at the shops today. it made me very happy. like a distant phase i look foward to that seems to have been part of a disconnected past somehow.

2046

dearest sweet trumpeter.

you make me cry, because you are so wonderful. can i make a dedication? i need sweet relief for soul some time in december, can you play for me, my funny valentine? i would, like to relive a little of that tearily beautiful moment when u were down there playing for me as i fiddled with the lights above. you are my music maker.

love, the trippy suburbanite.

i badly crave a ten km run now or a thirty lap swim. anything to get my dose of endorphins but alas alas i am far behind i am needing to hurry hurry hurry 'tis just another race and only another race, part of the process. no blood shed, hurry the rigor, hurry the vigor come now quick dance now speed now two seconds in one bliss lies moments away banish them too long pauses and race like the music come now hurry on with the beat now.

my sweet trumpeter let's go to the beach and make sandcastles during the holidays. i have a sudden urge to need to do that. and cycle too around katong like we always said and you'll bring me around to eat good stuff. happy days will come soon enough. hurry on with the beat now adidas girl.

suddenly, a wondrous thought! what if all my christmas presents this year were notebooks? all kinds of notebooks (condition of cool). notebooks with lines, blank pages, patterned pages, textured covers.

what could i do with so much blank pages all for me? i could write and draw forever!

must be the song, sandy forbes presents a nightningale sang in berkeley square. tis' one of my favourite songs. it's making me dream things!

back to work. let's not be late for submission date.

so tired. so tired. so much left to do. i need some pretty miracles.

a thunderin, a smatterin, a big flow. and the world is dusty brown cos the the ikea sun in my room it glows outwards so everything outside is tinged in sepia. it's a strange coloured world. i like morcheeba, they are very varied in their sounds and it's easy listening. i'm a trippy hippie!

'tis my current desk top. have you heard the song? Yumeji's dream. sweet and addictive sorrow. i have it on repeat ten times on my playlist. i'm now basking in the mellow-ness, in make pretend meloncholia. it's a mellow soundtracks tune aftenoon. bangbang goes nancy sinatra and estelle from great expectations she weeps from those piano keys, and amelie. ah, sigh. amelie. we are so happy being sad. we shall have a very movie holiday. i will just drench myself in make-pretend. waste not the time. this little drama of drawing has to end, complete and whole.

"Joyful Girl"

i do it for the joy it brings
because i'm a joyful girl
because the world owes me nothing
and we owe each other the world
i do it because it's the least i can do
i do it because i learned it from you
i do it just because i want to
because I want to

everything i do is judged
and they mostly get it wrong
but oh well
'cuz the bathroom mirror has not budged
and the woman who lives there can tell
the truth from the stuff that they say
and she looks me in the eye
and says would you prefer the easy way?
no, well o.k. then
don't cry

and i wonder if everything i do
i do instead
of something i want to do more
the question fills my head
i know that there's no grand plan here
this is just the way it goes
and when everything else seems unclear
i guess at least i know

i do it for the joy it brings...

ani difranco (listening to the soul jazzy version by Soulive from the jazz bistro series, it's so good. listen before/after breakfast in room with filtered sunlight.

one of those tests that you just stumble upon and feel compelled to take. nicely accurate. now where can i go from here.

joy, your hemispheric dominance is equally divided between left and right brain, while you show a moderate preference for auditory versus visual learning, signs of a balanced and flexible person.

Your balance gives you the enviable capacity to be verbal and literate while retaining a certain "flair" and individuality. You are logical and compliant but only to a degree. You are organized without being compulsive, goal-directed without being driven, and a "thinking" individual without being excessively so.

The one problem you might have is that your learning might not be as efficient as you would like. At times you will work from the specific to the general, while at other times you'll work from the general to the specific. Sometimes you will be logical in your approach while at other times random. Since you cannot always control the choice, you may experience frustrations not normally felt by persons with a more defined and directed learning style.

You may also minimally experience conflicts associated with auditory processing. You will be systematic and sequential in your processing of information, you will most often focus on a single dimension of the problem or material, and you will be more reflective, i.e., "taking the data in" as opposed to "devouring" it.

Overall, you should feel content with your life and yourself. You are, perhaps, a little too critical of yourself - and of others - while maintaining an "openness" which is redeeming. Indecisiveness is a problem and your creativity is not in keeping with your potential. Being a pragmatist, you downplay this aspect of yourself and focus on the more immediate, the more obvious and the more functional.

the temper thunder and musky drops have made me word-hungry.

If
by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!

carpe diam! i should do it one day. organise my own dead poets society. we have no caves and no forests and no scholarly robes to feel secretive but, we can do alot with pure darkness. do you? read poetry aloud in the darkness? scrumptious and delightful. skin tingling. do try it at least once. it is rather addictive for me.

ordinary wind is winding

ordinary wind is winding(cold face blush
wind is winding here there tomorrow)(
graceful dove wind
theatrical scar wind
thunderclapclapclap(clapclapstrike)
struckwinding wind

- e.e. cummings

ottawa. museum of civilisation. light in tunnel. light magic.

quebec city. snowqueen country.

sea anemone, monteral biodome. brilliant brilliant place. i wish i took a picture of the tank with the huge dinosaurish fishes.

reach for the metaphysical and all tangible struggle will melt into oblivion. thus i aim for love. love conquers all things, not just romantic love, but all of love's far reaching arms.

yes, love can be used to conquer in the archi battle. love, conquers everything!