Flowers in December.

For some reason or another it pleases me greatly (sadistically so) that Channel 5 will not be telecasting the countdown celebration at Sentosa on account of the tragedy. Nyah. At least someone has a sliver of priority around here.

So 2004's come and gone, and I can't say I feel any heartfelt emotion upon the arrival of its successor. No relief that the year's left us another in its wake, or eager anticipation for the one ahead; just a fair bit of indifference. Which really could be the summation of my entire attitude towards the New Year. Being made to have lunch at the paternal Grandma's tomorrow. Yay for under the radar gatherings. -_-

Looking back upon and filing memories under the months of 2004 is a trying episode in itself.

In January I blasphemed myself through Sunday church service and oddly enough, experienced the exact same things I am right now (which goes to show, some things don't change). Chinese New Year came and went with less distastefulness than expected (and some things do, when you least expect them to).

February I missed N's 25th birthday [sorry :(] after a crazy bout of inopportune indigestion (alliteration, yay me), and went cringe-worthily gaga over The L Word (Bette!!! <3),>didn't get it. Caught Landmarks with Viv and HOSAF with PCB, and lived (albeit just barely) to tell the tale.

March had me experience a near moment of guiltstruck desire for penitence after watching The Passion, but alas, the spirit was willing but the flesh just couldn't get out of bed early the next day.

In April I turned 21, alone.

May saw me officially fall so deepdeepdeeply in love with Blondie (and into the dredges of weekly orgasmic SVU heaven), as well as commence driving lessons (which I now miss, together with the Volks). Also the month of depression and such acute vehemence and anger it scares me somewhat to think about it now.

June, ah June. Where do we begin? Burned out on the bi-annual essay-rushing season and essentially fucked myself of a decent average that semester, juggled both the visit from the folks and rushing to and fro from school with assignments due late into the morning. Rushed back to flogging-land for the brilliant Sarah Brightman concert, and just a few days later headbanged and shrieked the night away at the LP gig (talk about diversity?).

July was the month of beginnings and endings, of doors closing and opening. Of reparations and coming-to-terms, and numerous failed tanning attempts. (Editor's note: You're still like the twelve year old boy sitting behind me in class, pulling my hair. Punching me. Teasing, taunting, because he likes me.)

In August school resumed, and the tsunami of work was near unbearable. 110-218 and Media Law drove me absolutely nuts (but oh, how the tide turned). Things, too, were hazy. I doubted and tried to stay away, to distance myself so I could see just how wrong we were. I dubbed MFV as your song.

September had my nose glued to novels, of sucky Sputniks and Naked Husbands in a time reserved for diligence and assignments. The green-eyed monster tormented me, until I embraced it as a part of who I was.

In October change was imminent across the ocean; the night we called it a day. Casablanca fever was in the air, and there was much, much lusting over a certain dishy hunk with a wrench (Scott!!! <3).

November saw the fate of the US forever sealed as the nation of war and lies. Switzerland was the land of endless mountains and snow, of beautiful leggy blondes with stylish cropped hair. I fell in love with the charms of Before Sunset all over again.

In December the doubts reappeared, riddled with uncertainty about whatcouldhavebeen. It was the month of renovation, of the new in lieu of the old, and of loss.

As for January, January holds the promise of territories yet unexplored. There will be the facing of hopes and fears, and perhaps the confirmation of things we have known all along but were too afraid to see...

***

In a year from now
Maybe there'll be things we wish we'd never said
Maybe in a year from now
Maybe we'll see each other
Standing on the same street corner

"Say Goodbye" - S Club 7 (o_O)

Overture.

2004 is the year of death for so many around, all of whom are related in a way and yet not really at all. Just finished clearing out the cupboard for the folks' office collection for Aceh. It's fucking depressing is what it is, and what shits me the most is how in less than 36 hours people are going to be partying the night away with stupid countdowns when the only real countdown is that of an epidemic setting in across the sea and the death toll rising far beyond 100, 000. So have fun headbanging and counting down on New Year's Eve; at least your year was worth the fracas.

This girl needs more than occasional
Hugs as a token of love from you to me

Terms of endearment only go so far before their meanings are washed away by perfunctoriness. Do you fucking get it? Just two weeks away but this feels so wrong it makes me sick and yet stupidly wanting more all at the same time. No one escapes the mind games.

***

I can't go on this way. I want to shower you with affection, I want to hurt you with a hail of indifference. I want to whitewash my past with you and start anew, I want to blackmail you with that same past and insist we start again. I want you to leave your telephone number on my caller ID when I am not at home so I can decode it as a confession of love forever locked within seven missed numbers. I want to call your handphone from a public telephone and keep silent hoping that you will distil the background noises: the carousel of children's laughter, the traffic growling on the sweaty streets, my palm greasing the mouthpiece, into one helpless sob. I want to hold you and let you go. I want to kiss you and push you away.

Joy to the world.

3 days in a row in town just days before the (2004th) birth of Christ is tentamount to murder. Not only are the major shopping districts packed full of people rudely squeezing past each other laden with bags of festivity-induced haul, tempers on the average are up, and woe befall you if you a) attempt to drive into town, b) find a parking lot in town, and c) take public transport in (and out) of town.

This year (when has it ever been different?) I've had to buy both my own present, as well as dad's entire haul for the family (despite having cheated and just handed over the cash instead) and that of the extended family. Christmas isn't about sharing the joy and season's tidings and what have you commercialized crap the media and retail outlets have been harping on about, it's about gift-giving. Last-minute, thoughtless gift-giving. I mean, who cares as long as you've got something to give, right?

Been to church twice in a row this weekend and it isn't funny in the least. Two days of 730ams and little sleep (not to mention brother insisting on waking up at absolutely the last minute and being "late"), dismal spirits and forced greetings to and fro. Am also sick to death of smarmy christmas songs (one more time Santa dashes through the snow on a one-horse open sleigh I swear I'll dismantle the damned thing myself), the exodus of which signals the vicious onslaught of annoying New Year ditties.

Call me a party-pooper, but Christmas is the suckiest time of year. This year's 'celebration' has sucked ass big time, but the good news is, it's over. Bring on the New Year.

***

She will never return and still she will never leave.

Goodbye girl.

FRIGGIN 8.43am on a SATURDAY morning and I have been evicted from my room (after heading to bed at 4+am) to make way for the painters. -_- The dust has reactivated my sinus, and every. single. minute is spent sneezing or snorting away like a cocaine addict on a perpetual hit.

Might have gone swimming (tanning, really) if it weren't for the fact that 1. My clothes are in my room, 2. The bathroom is also being painted, 3. I'm so tired I'd probably drown after no more than a few strokes. Supposed to head to Chinatown with mom, but dad has already pre-emptively bought my mahjong set (which is a weird sickly blue and not the typical green)... pre-emptively being the keyword. The yi shuo also happens to be a corny Las Vegas carny clown look-alike...

***

Back from gallavant into Chinatown/town/Bukit Timah (???) with absolutely nothing to show for... Palais Renaissance is out of their mini puddings, and FCUK does not have my (replacement) jacket. WHY??? :(

On another note, my room is the only one yet to be painted despite yours truly having been rudely awoken at (I repeat) the unearthly hour of 8. Yay for sucky sleepless Saturdays.

***

We can arm-wrestle now, and settle this once and for all, or we can slow-dance and dream the paradox of rose tattoos.

A waltz for a night.

Dogged by both a dastardly cold and insomnia that seem to feed each other so each time I actually manage to fall asleep I have creepy dreams soon after that last (thankfully) for about 10 minutes or so before I wake up in shock. Latest one was about a monstrosity of a crocodile, a poodle, and 2 women... fill in the blanks. -_-

***

(Love is) a fire bright and toasty with warm glowing heat; you're glad its there until it burns your whole world into ashes.

Deja Vu.

From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the color of the roses
They grew down the river, all bloody and wild

When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped the tears that ran down my face

On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I'd seen
I said, "Do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?"

On the second day he came with a single rose
Said: "Will you give me your loss and your sorrow?"
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
He said, "If I show you the roses will you follow?"

On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist

On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, "All beauty must die"
And I leant down and planted a rose between her teeth

"Wild Rose" - Nick Cave & Kylie Minogue

Headstrong.

Just realised I left my brand new (super pretty) FCUK jacket on board the flight back from Zurich, and NO ONE has turned it in as of 2 weeks later. Whoever took it (you fucking sick cheapo), I hope your kids get knocked up by a direct relative with HIV and in turn churn out retarded bastards who will not live til 20 to continue your lineage of dishonest scumsucking cunts.

(God, that felt good.)

***

It seems you're having some trouble
In dealing with these changes
Living with these changes
Oh no, the world is a scary place
Now that you've woken up the demon

"Down With the Sickness" - Disturbed

Medusa.

Odd how something so simple can come as a shock out of the blue.

What have I done, and more importantly, is it worth it?

H is so gorgeous it hurts. -_-

***

Dear lady, I would love to walk with you... on a beach somewhere, for just five minutes. How strange to have come so far and to want so little.

The four horsemen.

Everything is so much more bleak and depressing when you're tired and suffering from an acute lack of sleep and being compelled to off to perfunctory church on friggin' Sunday mornings. 8.30am and dying. One of these days I will get it out of me to refuse.

Caught Aladdin at the Jubilee Theatre on Thursday with Viv, decent performance though last year's Cinderel-lah! was by far the better of the two (Chua Enlai was somehow hilariously funny though -fucking wig!-, and I <3 Karen Tan :)).

Out with A at the Esplanade yesterday for the Sleeping Beauty Ballet. Particularly liked the sequence preceeding the second interval, but that's just it: too many intervals within too (relatively) short a time. Was all ready to up and go after the curtains fell the second time, but two intervals within 2.something hours is just one to many to fully capture an audience's attention. All things considered (crotch-oggling and all), for a first ballet I'm glad it was complimentary.

All caught up with the OC so far. It's tough to explain just exactly what it's allure is (given the cheesy lines, predictable plot and bad acting), but it's so bad it's good that I think I'm in it for the long haul.

13 days to xmas and a ton of gift shopping left to do. When did the holidays become a mad rush for presents and presents alone?

***

�Yeah, you taste different from them. You taste classy. That must be your reputation on the tip of my tongue.�

Set the night to music.

Karen White's version of Superwoman does hit home much harder than Patti's when it actually counts...

We don�t talk the way we used to
And it�s hurting me so deep
I got my pride, I will not cry
But it�s making me weak

I'm not your superwoman
I�m not the kind of girl that you can lay down
And think that everything�s okay
Boy, I am only human
This girl needs more than occasional
Hugs as a token of love from you to me

I�m the kind of girl that can treat you so sweet
But you�ve got to realize that
You�ve got to be sweeter to me

***

"But what does it mean, the right man? The love of your life, the concept is absurd. The idea that we can only be complete with another person is evil, right? You know, I guess I've been heartbroken too many times and then I recovered. So now, from the start, I make no effort because I know it's not going to work out. I'm so miserable in my love life, in my relationships. I always act like I'm detached, but I'm dying inside. I'm dying because I'm so numb I don't even feel pain or excitement; I'm not even bitter."

- Before Sunset (2004)

Stairway to Heaven.

Pictures from trip as promised:



View from hotel room in Interlaken.



Along the River Geneva in Montreux, a French suburb.



Countryside shot on one of the many train rides; this one to Grindelwald.



View from Murren [after the 60-degree (literally) angled cablecar-cum-train ride].



The fabled Metterhorn, Toblerone poster icon.



Funky super hight-tech vending machine (it's huge!!!) in Brig.



Departure gate E47: En route connecting bridge 5 seconds from boarding flight home.

***

"You don't have to love me the way I do you, Cole. Just love me." - De-lovely (2004)

The Unbeliever.

Back from Switzerland with no less than a marked phobia of trains (goodbye MRT), a broken, sore body and a bruised right asscheek. To cut a needlessly long story short, my entire time in the Alps can really be summarized as such:

7am: Trudge to bathroom
8am: Down for breakfast
9am: Set off for Interlaken Ost train station
930am: Board train to overhyped "Mountain of the Day"
1230pm (yes, you got that right): Arrive at destination
1pm: Trudging through empty village leaving desolate snow tracks
2pm: Back on return-bound train
5pm: Arrive at Interlaken dead tired from the journey
6pm: Dinner
7pm: TV (all in German, mind you. Thank god for universal MTV.)
830pm: Bath
9pm: Sleep (because you're so fucking beat from train-travelling and not so much the trekking)
7am: Trudge to bathroom...

"Highlights", if they can be termed as such, include the seemingly endless train rides up the Jungfraujoch (shamelessly marketed as "the top of Europe"), which at least was fairly worth the time spent on the tracks but not the ridiculous price [an extra of $156 per person on top of the already extorbitant 8-day Swiss Pass (which came up to $1080 for the 4 of us...)]. Everything else in between that and snowboarding on the last day was a blur, given that snow season only really starts on the 4th of Dec and runs are only officially open on weekends as a result.

The actual snowboarding incident (which shall not be overly into detail for fear of permanent defamation) itself was... memorable, to say the least. Let's just say, for the record, it was a feat in itself. 5 days (and much excruciating pain) later, my body is slowly beginning to heal.

Pictures for the voyeurs to be up later.

***

I was thinking, for me it's better that I don't romanticize things that much anymore. I was suffering so much all the time. I still have lots of dreams, but they're not in regard to my love life. It doesn't make me sad, it's just the way it is.

I can't deal with the day to day life of a relationship. You know, we have this exciting time together, and then he leaves and I miss him, but at least I'm not dying inside. When someone is always around me I'm like suffocating.

I mean, I'm really happy only when I'm on my own. Even being alone, it's better than sitting next to a lover and feeling lonely. It's not so easy for me to be all romantic. You start off that way, and after you've been screwed over a few times you forget about all your delusional ideas and you just take whatever comes into your life.

That's not even true; I haven't been screwed over, I've just had too many blah relationships. They weren't mean; they cared for me, but there were no real connection or excitement, or at least not from my side.

Watched it twice on the flight back, and still it takes my breath away.

***

Deep down you know it's best for yourself but you
Hate the thought of her being with someone else
But you know that it's over
Been knew it was through
Let it burn
Let it burn
Gotta let it burn

"Burn" - Usher