| signal in the sky |
[11 Nov 2009|05:36pm] |
Going back to banana pancakes, green grass and hopefully some closure. Sunflowers and sunny days with teletubby faces and rolling down hills like it's just so easy and closing your eyes when the wind blows and whips your face into a starry teary dessert with a maraschino cherry reddened nose - mmm, cool whip - and a chocolate biscuit hairdo with edible 24-karat gold flakes.
Catch you guys in a couple of weeks xx
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| a world of our own, far away from this one (starry eyed surprise) |
[07 Nov 2009|12:06am] |
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It's all like a dream, being here - fireworks in platt fields park were ethereal, and the carnival! I've never been to one, it was pretty amazing though slightly overpriced but that's to be expected. Badminton today just wasn't the same as it was back home a year ago - has it been a year already? - with homies who never seemed to study properly but jumped downstairs to the hall whenever someone mentioned the word badminton. Good times playing in the dark because the cleaners never let us turn off the lights, and it didn't matter when we sucked or when we didn't because we just had fun. It's interesting to see how all of us have diverged and gone along different roads but still have nice memories as the time goes on, simple, almost unimportant memories that stay with you for life. It's a nice feeling, knowing you share these things with other people and there's a silvery intangible bond that can't be broken, not for quite some time until senility kicks in. I don't miss jc that much; I miss the people who made those metal container classrooms and bleachers home. Talking on the bleachers was great; watching the sun set there with teammates was almost an astral experience.
Good times all and I know I'm lucky to have them; everywhere I go I wish I can replicate those somehow and invent some dusty grey bleachers in my mind to sit on and watch the sun set. Because that's where I'd like to be for the rest of my life, sitting there with someone who knows what I'm going to say, so I don't have to say it at all. Why am I here? I ask myself that all the time - occasionally realising that it would be even more heartbreaking in stasis back home when I'm in my cocoon whilst the rest of the world swirls around me in constant irreverent change.
I wonder if I'll have the same memories here that I made back then when I was the champion of the world and walked the roads with style, without casting my eyes downward feeling acutely Asian, and subsequently fiercely ashamed of the act of being ashamed. And suddenly flawed and conscious of it. Anonymous and unknown, it's not as fun walking through the canteens when no one knows your name. But this is all in the past; the present's now and I'm still coming to terms with it because this all seems like such a temporary arrangement and marriage of convenience to me. I'm here; give me a degree vs I'm here because I want to be here, because I love the culture and the spirit and the bible verses spurring you on when you're running round the track.
And the smell of green grass when you walk across the forbidden soccer field instead of traversing the long rounded path around the red track to the sports complex for bad Japanese food. I'm so blessed I still keep in contact with some of my old friends - everything, I've realised, takes so much more effort when it's out of theory and thrust into the real world. It's much less romantic and much more involved and dreams diffuse into the midnight air. I can't translate my thoughts into words, this disorientation and flurry of colours and vibrance and horror and thick, strong brushstrokes that find their way onto your face, labelling you in cruel dances and brilliant pirouettes the next. And the machinations of people as they climb up, up and away...
I still believe in the loveliest of human creatures. On the bus today someone was saying 'love is for pussies', but what can I say? Whenever I think of these things I read. I read to get away, I read words and pictures and people so the dust is stirred up in my mind and everything begins again. Life begins again in a beautiful release. Like in the National Gallery; a thousand little deaths and a million new lives to compensate for those dead little brain cells incapable of comprehending the fiery intensity of the chunky brushstrokes and the meticulous details beneath rough edges of thick crusts of oil paint until they're reincarnated. Reborn as something new, not quite of the brain but of the soul and so far beyond that - where is my soul? I've lost it along the way when I was waiting for Godot to come along. Godot came and went and I'm still waiting with my rope that isn't here, and my soul's spinning here and there and I wonder if God thinks of me from time to time, because I sure do think of Him and how I let Him down with all my actions and non-actions. Yesterday Scott was talking about how if you believed in something with pure faith you'd live an exemplary life according to the purity of your faith, with belief. And this from an atheist - it made me feel shamed, but everything is hypothetical. Is faith hypothetical? Is my faith stronger than yours if you can hypothesize about God but insist on not believing in Him?
Another little night spent on musing, and wondering how my muse is doing - it's a laugh when your muse is actually not a porcelain-skinned nymph in a white off-shoulder dress with lush, soft skin and light brown curls resting gracefully on the dome of her head in a dressed up bun with pearls - and wondering how the world is doing, in general. Spinning here with or without me; it's tough to make your mark on a world that has so many other people just like you with a yearning desire to explode into little shards in the universe to feel something and descend like imperial pink glassy drops raining down on everyone's heads screaming I'm here, don't forget me, don't negate my existence, I'm here. After all, what do I want out of life at the end of the day? A body of lies, a few certificates here and there that I spend years trying to accumulate, a couple of kids who do well in school, a spouse who doesn't cheat on me (or who does, and whom I turn a blind eye to because we're staying together for the kids). No, that isn't what I want - I thought I could speak to you about my hopes and dreams forever, but now you're distracted and disinterested and I understand we've moved on in different directions and I still love you, I'm sure of that but love isn't enough because I wouldn't walk through fire for you and nothing lasts more than a moment, a little speck of dust in the hands of time in our transient life which I'm determined to make the best of (I was going to say with or without you, but I realised that that would have been rather irrelevant) for... the world and my heart. My world. Everyone's world. Sophie's world? I'm sure she wouldn't mind that too.
There are so many chains and so many little finnicky tenuous connections that are so difficult to extricate yourself from and I'm putting my foot down and damming up this influx of bullshit. I am strong; strength is a self-made quality. I am John Rambo, I am the milk in your Earl Grey tea, I am me, and I'm not - I'm so many things at once. I'm a plane ticket; I'm a stethoscope; I'm a pleasant jingle; I'm wherever I want to be, and thank you for this realisation. I want to wake up where you are, but I'm smiling right here where I am (I bet this is the funniest post relevant to the topic you've ever seen, and I'm hoping you enjoy this) and I don't need to smile to be happy, I need a toffee nut latte with cinnamon sugar and chocolate chunks and cinnamon buns and chestnuts roasting on an open fire in my mind, and vanilla spice body wash from the body shop, and fairtrade cotton t-shirts, and shopping bags made of hemp, and leather-bound notebooks with recycled paper at the core of them, and masquerade masks and finds that make your eyes sparkle with delight like they do all the time; I will miss your eyes but I will carry them with my in my heart because I have had a healthy heart these few years and I'm not talking cardiology.
When you walk you move like Moses
When you look you look like red roses
I realise this will not be read by anyone, so I would just like to say, I am content.
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| empty |
[03 Nov 2009|09:26pm] |
I need a Karl from Love Actually to make my christmas worthwhile. 'Til then... nothing.
Do you know how much I think of you from time to time? I wonder if you're doing great - which I hope you are - and wonder if you're still that banged up shitfaced person I knew you to be and hope you don't ever change. 5 weeks to Christmas which is a huge event for me (that always falls flat on its face with no poppers, no egg nog, no huge family gatherings, and a turkey I make that will be eaten by a grudging group of three) on tv.
For once I'd like a real Christmas, with lights and spirit and people saying "I love you" just because it's that time of year, and even annoying uncles and aunts and grand-uncles and the like taking the piss out of me with redundant inane conversations. And tons of Christmas presents under a Christmas tree that doesn't scratch me half to death with its spiky plastic thorns when I'm putting it up, and snow in Singapore - what larks and futile dreams - with snow angels and boots and funny little woollen hats with earflaps and the whole shebang. Christmas parties that have mistletoe and people who aren't too hesitant to show affection for anyone, colourful bricks and Christmas carolling.
I want a real Christmas that doesn't let me down
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| yet you choose to be on the side of me |
[28 Oct 2009|10:16am] |
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music |
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depeche mode - dream on |
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Things have been a very static shade of gold recently, lacklustre and dulled like an old tankard. Usually when I'm soaring I see the world in an explosion of greens - well, there isn't very much green here - and blues peppered appropriately with white cotton candy clouds and when I breathe in until it hurts to the very last bits of my lung capacity the cold air rushes in and fills me up and I close my eyes and there's bliss and when I open them there's nothing in my way. I tried to close my eyes last night and let nothing fill me up so I would be full to bursting, but the quick ride down didn't work and I rode alone. There is a startling emptiness in so many things - talking to people about things that don't matter, and even my elephant charmbracelet is lying untouched on my desk as it has been for so long. Losing yourself and finding yourself again when you're just watching the flowers grow is like nothing else on earth. The purest highs are gone and my world is sallow and pale like my skin. We both need to restructure ourselves like my shoes instruct me to - "heal the world" - and I know what I'm going to do now. Being strewn out and pulled in so many different directions is restricting and I'm going to swim steadily to my greens and blues.
Yesterday during the battlefield medicine lecture I thought to myself - I could be that person, I could be that person who salvages the shit bits of life and makes the best out of it and still comes to teach eager university students about my experiences and subsequently returns to my hole in the world in Iraq and Afghanistan operating on people in the middle of the night, trying to do the best I can without actually blooming in my specialization: yes I could be that person repeated in my head like a mantra. Can you feel a little love? And then I felt trashy for believing this, for believing me; how deceptive. Bony fingers closing around a dusty scroll that disintegrates and a crooked smile on the corner of thin, curved lips always dogging me because I don't actually believe I can do it. "There's no time for hesitating; pain is ready pain is waiting"... dream on. And, yes I'm going to; I can be purposefully great for on a grander scale than is personal
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| thanks for this ning |
[27 Oct 2009|12:15am] |
Cause I’m hopeful, yes I am, hopeful for today,
Take this music and use it
Let it take you away,
And be hopeful, hopeful and he’ll make a way
I know it ain’t easy but that’s okay.
Cause we hopeful
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| you have my attention |
[25 Oct 2009|10:21am] |
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It's 1021 (or 921 I'm not sure when daylight saving is and I'm a generally confused kid) on Sunday on the weekend I was supposed to magically finish my PBL over the weekend. Sad to say I have predictably failed and not just that - went out to watch a midnight movie The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus which just left my face perpetually scrunched up in a 'what the hell is going on' expression. Honestly that show is beyond words but I quite like Colin Farrell so thumbs up! And today I am going to eat a shitload of ice cream and not do any work as usual. I have church in a few hours but I think it's time to buckle my ass to the chair and start (yes I have not started) PBL before it is too late. And I'm going to London next weekend! It's amazing how I have so much time to schedule in these fun times when I'm so busy - I think it is a super great challenge for my time management but it makes me feel goooood so who's complaining? I really want to go to edinburgh... when the admin office loads the timetable online properly I can actually plan stuff HURRY UP PEOPLE I miss having ning 5 minutes away even though fate always intervened and cancelled our outings due to illness or pissyness or other such unpleasantries (now that's a word I would never say in real life) I have a hospital visit next week!!! I am excited because it's been so long since I've been in hospitals (ok a few months) and I love it even though it is white, lifeless (maybe not quite an apt word) and sterile because the people there work so hard for other people even when they don't have to, now that's a profession that's worthy of lifelong devotion (the rest of the doctors who don't and don't want to be there or even be doctors should go fly kite) and I am going to be a lifelong devoter... This shit hasn't really sunk in. Over and out!
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| my only sunshine |
[21 Oct 2009|10:26am] |
Isn't much to do around here since medicine consumed me - hope you guys are well xx
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| you're everything to me |
[16 Oct 2009|10:10pm] |
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let's talk about good good love - you're everything i need
The workload is intense! It feels like JC again, the sleepless nights and the oh-my-God-do-I-really-have-to-go-to-school-ness is super abundant, but without the canteen and the can deck and the infamous void deck and chicken cutlet rice and overly sweet diabetic milo it's different - tonight was a good night though, very mellow just me cooking merrily (how I love to do that, it's my time out and I've decided not to use the microwave anymore, it's evil and plus I don't really consider that cooking in the purest form anyhows) and streaming The Ugly Truth which wasn't a movie that was super, but it was nice enough for a homey Friday night. And I feel great! I have a huge 'In' pile on my left that needs doing (and a mini 'In' pile on my right that's gotta be cleared as well) but I'm not fazed; I'll have an early night and tackle all this tomorrow! I haven't felt so positive in a long time and I love it - I think it's because all the problems back home plaguing me have cleared up like acne revealing an Naomi Campbell kind of face, it's idyllic and lovely in the extreme and I adore every minute of it. It's disturbing knowing your friends keep transiting home on the weekends, to wherever around in the midlands and the rest of the UK when even getting a flight home is difficult to the extreme, but all the same... I think it's good for personal growth. Kind of cementing you here, knowing you haven't any other choice so better to make the best of it hey? Wouldn't make sense to get home over the weekend though, probably would just have breakfast and fly off again for microbiology in the morning. The jet-lag would be hell on a stick. Tomorrow's for work alone because I'm a responsible little girlie and I'm so terribly excited about Sunday because I'm going to church! I loved church on sundays at barker when I didn't know anyone because I could concentrate - went less and less when my friends went because it became no longer that intense a personal experience for me, but here everything is strange and different; maybe I'll like it better here. And bowling and Robbo's after! Which is all great I think and I call home every night which will kill my phone bill, and maybe I should have gone for Sherman's surprise but I accomplished so much and besides so yesterday - the boy's 21 Happy Birthday Sherman alright I'm going to bed see you guys much love back home to you!!! Remember to ace all those progress tests, psych, lit, law and whatever else you're doing! xx
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