i feel like a stranger in my own house. hah. detached, aloof, quiet. there is nothing to say, nothing i want to say, nothing to ask that will not sound pretentious, so i stay mute. they had their girl chat, while i stayed in my room and talked to ahlee. my connection to a new world, a different world, one which speaks to me.
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holidays have been.. lukewarm so far, with a few perks. hmmm i don't feel any impetus to blog, so i wonder why i'm here. words are slow in the coming and shallow in their falling. one week of stagnation and next week's the whirl wind. monday-thurs i'll be conducting the aki survey, monday i've got driving, tuesday night im meeting cherie for spiderman, wed we're supposed to go karaoking with zhonyun + wohwoh gang, thurs.. driving again? and somewhere in between these days i have to cram in rag planning, which will only get more intensive. argh, help. chill. 'strive to enter Your rest'. i always found that quite intriguing- striving for resting. unsettling enough to uproot you from the shaky foundations and replant you on firm ground.
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haha i got rescued today from smoke. shan't say anymore. none of my plans for the week have been working out. today we were supposed to visit zhongxing but he had some scans to do and we couldnt visit til 4pm. belle, nasty n i met at 1230 for lunch at crystal jade instead, then i went with belle to the Australian High Commission to apply for her visa to Goldcoast. But we hiked up the hill and narrow winding path to no avail, and were stranded upon the wasteland of our ignorance until we imposed on the owner of a shop by-and-by, seeking directions. She told us the desired destination was at the foot of the hill, ALAS! we lifted one hand and flagged a mobile carrier on wheels to roll us down to the foot of the hill. upon arriving at the golden land of the Australian High comm which was uncannily quite low down on the hill range, we discovered that we could get no yellow ticket (visa) to the Coast of Golden Tresses because the High Comm only received guests from 9-11am on weekdays. Disappointed and dejected, we turned to the accumulation of cloaks on our backs for sustenance (read: retail therapy). This is so crappy. reflects my boredom.
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After that, we abandoned all our prior plans to escape to SGH (Socially Gracious Hideout) to display some gracious visitation etiquette to our poor ailing friend, because there was no mobile multiple pumpkin carrier willing to ferry us over to SGH from the orchard grove. [no friggin SBS bus goes anywhere remotely near to outram park from town. seriously.] So after the A.o.C.o.B [Accumulation of Cloaks on Backs] escapade, i headed down to City Hall NewYorkNewYork to meet studio8studio8. NYNY did not let us get the big table we wanted, nor allow us to join tables so 9 of us could sit together, so we left in a puff and blew the house down. [not really lah. i made friends with the manager. she's a filipino, pleasant. called.. Maria.] After we left with a huff and a puff we went to Marina Square's Cafe Cartel where the pasta & macaroni tastes like a heap of cream doused upon macaroni morsels. Quite unappetising, very jelat. i feel sick thinking about it now. But the staff were very enthusiastic. Kept on refilling our glasses with water (4 different waiters asked us if we wanted more refills and we kept rejecting them, cos all our dinner was digested/rejected already, but they kept coming. so we acquiesced and let them fill it to get them to stop coming. ULTIMATE GOAL IN LIFE>> fill those darn cups. like beating the badgers. "i score one point. muahah.") Then we went to millenia walk, to a german bar name of which i cannot remember and cannot pronounce. and then...
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why do i catalogue my life like this? does it even matter?
/its like walking on the beach and there's sand all around
all the same, too similar to be different, too homogenous to segregate
so they coalesce- one formless, boundless stretch of plain.
but the only one which bothers you is that speck under your last toenail
because it is all you feel, despite its minute inaneness
it is all you concentrate on, for the mere fact of the
mundane stares you in the eye,
you long for the splinter just so something can stick out.
happy birthday bello! you're 20! :)
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