Rustle

WHEN I SAY FEAR, YOU SAY WHATEVZ

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 12:22:39 GMT

SATS TOMORROW

Am actually kind of nervous. Holyholyholyshit.

OTHER THOUGHTS

I was randomly waltzing between the dining table and the kitchen, when it suddenly occurred to me that insecurity is like, whatever.

Everyone's insecure. At least a little bit. Some let it get them down, and some don't. This is proof that insecurity doesn't have to be self-defeating -- not unless you let it.

It's pointless to be insecure about being insecure. Only now do I realize how unnecessary/pointless it is to lament about being plagued by insecurity and fears. So, yeah, maybe fear is a big part of my psyche. It's in my nature to think of all the horrible potential outcomes of a given situation, and it's in my nature to read too much into what people say, and it's in my nature to get carried away with my imaginary fears. So? I will always be this way, and y'know what, I think about 20 minutes ago was the first time I realized that IT'S OKAY TO BE THAT WAY. WHOAAAAAA.

Fear/insecurity is natural. Find me a ~~teenager~~PERSON who isn't, or hasn't been, insecure. Being insecure or fearful does not give any one a right to demand extra comfort or attention. Everyone has it, so deal. [this is me talking to myself]

Fear is a self-preservation instinct. Fear can help us, it can save us. Fear is what drove the cavemen to seek the spot where they would be safest from predators, which meant that they could reproduce in safety, pass on the same lessons/fears to their children, and ensure the proliferation of MANKIND. Fear is the reason why we're all here today, typing out whiny little blog posts into our expensive laptops. Fear is the reason why we SURVIVE.

Of course there is also the downside, where we give in to our insecurities and let them consume us and paralyze us and drown us in inaction. I will not elaborate on this because it is the fucking story of my life, and... yeah I think I've already summarized said 'fucking story of my life'.

Okay I've said my piece. Will go do final lap of SAT revision now ^^

IN CONCLUSION

I am conscious that the above section utilizes a style of writing that I used mostly in my secondary school years. Damn I feel puerile.

haunting choral music? yes please.

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 18:10:20 GMT

The song is In Noctem, second song off the halfbloodprince soundtrack.

let's get retarded

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 17:45:29 GMT

About half an hour, I was exceedingly sleepy, but listening to black eyed peas (LET'S GET IT STARTED) while playing bejeweled has significantly woken me up. So now I'm sober enough to make the decision to go bed.

Anyway the purpose of this post is to say: This year is the year I realized that that place I belong is where the weird people're at.

And that is all.

if you make an attempt to defy the stereotype, the stereotype still owns you

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 13:41:01 GMT

It's the first of December!

Now I'm trying to figure out if the above statement is grammatically flawed.

When you stare at any sentence for too long, the words eventually start to not make sense. And you realize that the English language is bound by the flimsy, artificial, man-constructed laws of this thing we call grammar. A structure we impose on the sounds and words that come out of our mouths. A standard to be adhered to, that mutated into a means of separating the uneducated from the educated. Why care, though, if ultimately the same meaning manages to come across anyway?

In the future I will become an editor and gleefully make a living from capitalizing upon humanity's need to be word-perfect.

-

Anyway, it's December, and apart from having a cold and a headache and SAT questions to do, it's actually going pretty o-kay so far. December :)

now you're halfway out the door

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 20:26:20 GMT

My brain is fairly saturated with mbti threads. It confused me momentarily when I remembered that there are some people out there who don't even know their mbti type. I know I shouldn't type myself into the rigid confines of four letters, but as much as it can be potentially restricting, it can also be insanely liberating. Self-discovery is a wonderful thing. (yes, even if it's getting fed to you in the form of virtual people giving their $00.02 regarding the randomest questions)

Esplanade with Annjie; we watched a comic version of Hamlet, staged by an acting troupe from India. We had dinner at the central, and were consequently late for the play becuz of Annjie's unswerving faith in the theorem 'esplanade plays always start ten minutes late'. The play was hilarious, the acting was awesome -- aj pointed out that much of it must've been improvised -- though I think it probably would've been mystifying to someone who hasn't read the play.

King Claudius to Hamlet: Why. So. Serious?

+ oh my fucking god, in the play the Ghost is a kickass dancer.

The sexy bits in the play were awesome. E.g. when obese Queen Gertrude removes her red lace thong and gives it to an RJ boy sitting in the front, smiling invitingly at him to go join her after the show. 'We find somewhere nice, okay?' E.g. when Hamlet kisses Ophelia.

On the train home we sing Taylor Swift songs as a tiny Indian toddler careens happily between two sides of the carriage, his mother sitting on one side and his father on the other.

--

I'm listening to free fallin' by John Mayer. Okay I'm no music critic, but here goes my first attempt: the song is deceptively mellow when it starts, but eventually reveals a light, captivating soulfulness that sends chills down your spine. In less elegant terms, right now it makes me feel lonely, it makes me question what drives people to go on living day after day after day, and how come we don't just stop whatever we're doing right now, curl up into little balls and succumb to overwhelming tides of emotion.

Whoa okay, that came out sounding a lot more intense than I'd intended. Songs can be gateways to emotion -- either they give a name to what you're feeling and help define/deepen it further, or they sway your mood in a different direction. Though I read somewhere that smell is the sense most closely associated with memory, so smells can trigger memories can trigger feelings/thoughts. Our senses are bizarre.

Well yeah, so it's nearly 4a.m. and I just completed a SAT practice paper. In SAT world, my Maths is better than my English. A previously thought unshakable universal truth has officially been overturned. Fuck this shit. I refuse to let my self-esteem get bogged down by a couple of big words -- you think you so big, huh? Bring it on.

i've been thinking about this lately and

Fri, 27 Nov 2009 20:12:32 GMT

'My circle of friends includes many introverts. While I enjoy their ability to seek depth and respect the self contained aspect of their natures, they also strike me as kind of quietly selfish. I think they expect the people around them to entertain them, take the initiative in including them, carry them out of their comfort zones, etc., especially extroverts.'

Struck a chord. Guilty as charged.

awwww

Tue, 24 Nov 2009 17:54:45 GMT

I'M GOING TO STNICKS TOMORROW! WITH ERIN TAN HIE. SHIT SO AWESOME.

and i am not playing anymore

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 18:14:14 GMT

C'EST LA DANSE MACABRE

walking on air

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 13:26:29 GMT

Twilight Saga: New Moon Score

With an orchestral score like that, who the fuck needs plot?!

unnecessary costs get pruned first during times of crises

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 10:12:57 GMT

I was embarking on a mini effort to clear up my room, when I came across a rather ugly watch. I wanted to throw it away, but some part of my heart had decided to attach itself emotionally to that hideous specimen of blatantly fake leather. Like you're a parent on a grocery shopping spree with a child in the trolley, and said child keeps wanting to buy stuff you'd rather leave on the shelves. Assuming that this analogy is analagous, I shall conclude that my emotions are puerile. And in this case, I shall indulge them, as a mother would indulge a bratty, unreasonable child. Corporal punishment / refusal is just not my thing.

In any case, I can't bear to throw out the watch. I looked at the clock on my table -- ten minutes to six. I looked at the watch -- ten minutes to six. Perfect time. My heart broke at that moment. It's a cheap China watch that's trying so hard to be good. It's ticking, it's rigorously pushing its tiny body of clockwork mechanics to adhere to some unspoken level of perfection. All its features are in perfect working order. The second hand moves unfalteringly, like a heartbeat. It has a fucking claim to life.

I am so pro-life it's not even funny. Take this loving, all-inclusive attitude and expand it to include all manner of things (that normal people would've categorized as junk and thrown out long ago). See why it's so impossible for me to throw things out?!