monkeycrap's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ahh. The peace arising from oblivion. From ED: Carol: If he'd really love me, he'd be able to let it go, to want the best for me, to let me marry the one for me. Ed: It says here you went to Tufts University. Dr. Walter Jerome: What a marvelous piece of craftsmanship! Whoever forged this diploma must really take pride in his work. I mean, it looks just like the real thing! Ed: Ten bucks if you call Reverend Carver "Padre". Mike: Hey, ten bucks... Ed: I said some things I shouldn't have. Shirley: [On her lost Mexican jumping bean] Please let me know if you see it. It looks like a regular bean, but every so often it bounces in a rather disappointing way. Nancy: [Reverend Carver is being fired] They gave him two weeks' notice. From Geoff Dyer: As I looked at her I realised that, for me, the sensation of falling for a woman is often touched with this conviction that she will never need me. I wasn't sure what I was feeling, and then the familiarity of this particular aspect of the process - a side-effect almost - made me recognise it, made me realise that, yes, I was falling for her. Appropriately enough, I experienced this as a kind of vertigo - a species of Victorian swoon - induced by the discrepancy between the yearning I felt for her and the hunch that she was not feeling anything of the kind for me. (upon visiting some ruins)Ruins don't make you think of the past, they direct you towards the future. This is what the future will end up like. This is what the future has always ended up looking like. From Before Sunrise: Celine: I had worked for this old man and once he told me that he had spent his whole life thinking about his career and his work. And he was fifty-two and it suddenly struck him that he had never really given anything of himself. His life was for no one and nothing. He was almost crying saying that. Jesse: You know what's the worst thing about somebody breaking up with you? Is when you remember how little you thought about the people you broke up with and you realize that is how little they're thinking of you. You know, you'd like to think you're both in all this pain but they're just like 'Hey, I'm glad you're gone'. Jesse: There's these breeds of monkeys, right, and all they do is have sex, all the time, you know? And they turn out to be the least violent, the most peaceful, the most happy, you know? So maybe fooling around isn't so bad. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ So yeah, that's a part of what I've been doing. Heartwarming dramas, revisiting favourite movies and seeking solace in the occasional crazed-slash-disillusioned travel writer. Other than that, made my much awaited return, my long overdue recrudescence with regards to running at Bedok Reservoir. As usual, invigorating, revitalising, liberating. Although this time around, tried doing so strapped onto ankle weights, which kinda takes away some of the scenery whilst adding more agony. Also engaged in some retail misery (the evil cousin of retail therapy, occurs when desire for good exceeds purchasing power resulting in type of shopping done to be of the window variety) at Marina Square's midnight x'mas sale last Friday, with Wilson and Ivan. Anyone caught last Thursday's episode of Project Superstar? The guys knockout stage or something. Theme was songs from the 80s-90s. Quality of the contestants' singing, pretty good, but what really hit me were the songs chosen. Instant teleportation back to childhood, man. When I was younger, at 3pm every day, there would be this uncle ('the breadman' as we so affectionately and practically call him) who would ramble along in his blue van and stop in our neighbourhood. He would then play his signature solo riff on his van's horn and emerge, bumbling out of the driver's seat, with the depression in his sunken eyes being more than made up for by the protrusion that is his belly. Shirt buttoned down, voice tuned up, he would rip open the side door of his van to hawk his wares, or what we would now call childhood tokens. 10 cent beebee snacks. Those sweets with holes in the middle that allow you to make whistling noises while eating them. The pirated version of M&Ms and Smarties, you know, the brandless kinds encased in aluminium/plastic sheets shaped like the number 8. MSG laden macho mee. Chilli tapioca crisps, hung from the side of the van with raffia string together with the ninja turtle snacks, or sneks, if they're imported from Malaysia. And yeah, the overpowering scent of fresh banana cake. 40 cents, thank you very much. And those songs will be crackling from the pathetic piece of hardware that is his van's radio, tuned to some mandarin channel. The Grasshoppers, Cao Meng, whom I still feel is the most iconic (boy?)band ever to hit the mandopop scene. I still love their songs, although I hate to admit it. Ji mo gong lu by Sky Wu, although the pronounciation of the english words in the song a bit off la, but fantastic fantastic music. Can melt one, listening to it. And the last song, ai qing de kui lei, not sure by who, I think it's wu qi xian, provided the perfect ending to the show. When it comes to mandopop, I just love those kinda dramatic, you know, fall to your knees and pour your bleeding heart out type of songs. Haha. I'm off to Batam tomorrow, on one day's notice. It's like, receive a phone call at 1 am, hey, shall we go Batam tomorrow? Set. So yeah, a much needed 3 day respite from the stress associated with playing too much during the semester, a short Batam break to chill out, get a wife, erm, life. I'll cya when I cya. 11:33 a.m. - 2006-12-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||