Hello. It has been a busy week with important decisions, but finally I have decided to move to a new journal. I'm now snipethedoctor
and I hope my new journal will go well, though three entries ago I've been ranting.
If I have yet to add you from my f-list, I will, soon.
(To the people who replied to my last post about moving: thanks!)
Well, the other day I was contemplating moving to another journal of mine that has been dormant for a while. Following some major adjustments in my life I was planning to start anew. However, I'm not sure if my friends in this journal would find it troublesome to add me again in the other journal if I move. It could turn out a little messy and confusing for some.
So, what does everyone else think?
- Music:Fall Out Boy | Alpha Dog
I've just went through People's Sexiest Man Alive 2009 list.
Why isn't Hugh Laurie anywhere on the list...?
Hello, after an extended hiatus due to my internet connection gone awry.
I said farewell to the national exams last week. I think I might be in trouble, though, when for the last month it didn't feel like I was in the middle of Something Very Important, though it obviously was. Funny thing: almost everyone I asked felt the same way. I didn't even feel the slightest 'nervous breakdown the night before the paper', or even trembling fingers or an increasing heart rate halfway through. I really hope that doesn't mean it's not going to turn out well.
AND I'm getting my first camera in two weeks time! A high-end one would be impossible since I'm tight on funds, but I pretty much have enough for a Holga plus rolls of film to keep me satisfied. I've always been curious about the Holga.
Adding to that is the emotion of liberation. Two month of free time till the release of results on 14 Jan. I feel like going out for a walk, a movie, a festival if there's one. Then there's Anime Festival Asia in December, if I'm not wrong. Last year's was a mess but this year's...well I hope it'll be better. Less crowded, more organised. Less claustrophobic.
Anyone has any ideas for parting gifts? For teachers, friends and the like. I'd love to know, since I've hit a blank wall on that.
- Music:Paramore | Ignorance
I've been tasting blood in my mouth since I cleaned my teeth this morning (but I've seen nothing red in there except the strawberry jam) and I thought it might have something to do with my near-tooth decay two months ago. It is freaking me out more than a little bit, so please understand if I suddenly start typing in caps as I'M SO SCARED I'LL END UP LOOSING MY TOOTH. Or teeth. Or whatever the problem is with my mouth.
(I don't want a dentist visit if I can help it. The shiny, sharp weapons there'll probably induce an anxiety attack.)
On another note I'll be on a hiatus till mid-November due to the examinations. :/
- Music:Fall Out Boy | Hum Hallelujah
It is suffocatingly crowded in here. People jostle and push against each other like water molecules but somehow everyone is quiet at the same time.
He is Caucasian, the only one against a backdrop of Asians but then again he doesn't look too different. He stands alone, gazing absentmindedly around like the average commuter who only wishes for the long ride to end. His skin is sallow and pale, thinly stretched onto his lanky frame, yet not too much that it adds years to his appearance, and there is just enough pinkish tinge under the flesh to declare him healthy. I decided he has a soft appearance, like a completed, Photoshopped picture: airbrushed complexion, deep, feeling eyes looking into a place far away from here, and the marvel of how the background seems to blur off with distance from him. It's like they're not worth looking at. Or maybe it's just me.
I try not to be caught staring, but he turns around and our eyes meet. Once, twice. One second, two. And I look away calmly. As if I was merely casting a bored glance around the train cabin for something to sustain me through the ride. And he looks away as if nothing has happened. (How many times does one wonder if you're amusing someone else?) He is right.
My eyes roam and I feel like a downhearted poet seeing through the eyes of Mnemosyne. Or even Neil Gaiman, who is reputed to complete whole stories on airplanes. Or so my friend tells me. He slouches slightly, his hands gripping the ivory-cream handlebars firmly but with a touch of finely-poised grace that somehow looks completely unintentional, a casual way as he puts his weight on it and yet seems weightless. It looks so easy. He has a nostalgic look (or am I just dreaming?), like a 20th century Romeo with a different personality but unfortunately-Romeo genes. He exudes a calm gentleness that makes my heart lift with a sigh.
He wears grey denim skinny jeans that cuddle his legs and settle into layers of folded fabric at his ankles where they meet his shoes. His feet are covered by grey Everlast cotton sneakers of a darker hue, black laces, the sort I can't wear as I'd put holes in them faster than moths. His shirt is black with coloured splashes of red, pink and electric blue, with a caption I can't make out exactly, but though I will him to just turn around a little more for a glimpse, he doesn't. I am left in quiet suspense.
The lights in the gloomy tunnel flash on and off while the train rumbles to its own bass melody.
Our eyes meet once more as I wonder and I almost --almost-- miss the controlled intensity of his baby blues, shining from their constraints like white dwarfs, or radioactive material at the bottom of a well, radiating mersmerising and unexpected charm despite slightly obscured by straw-coloured locks falling all over his face, and not a bit sheepish. He's like the reticent book nerd in my class whom I never knew plays electric guitar. I think he's like Mikey Way without the glasses.
His eyes say you've yet to know me in a secretive way I'm certain I imagined it. He doesn't grin and I'm relieved: I could list off some people whose faces have been spoiled by their smile. In my opinion, anyway. He simply gazes out into the world with a forgotten, dreamy, detached air. I spent two-point-five minutes admiring his slender fingers, entertaining myself with possibilities of his name (I allocate a name to interesting people) but the train jolts to a stop at Outram Park and he disappears out the open doors without a second look. A gust, a whisper of wind.
- Music:Automatic Loveletter | Hush
'Where have all the flowers gone', by Peter, Paul and Mary was the first song I remember hearing, one lazy morning when I was seven years old, in an overly-ornate Chinese hotel restaurant with my legs dangling off the edge of the velvet-cushioned seat, grappling with chopsticks for the first time that slipped away like fish.
I think it was the word 'graveyards' that made me notice things. It's funny how I realise how drawn I was to the macabre even when my brain was still filled with the likes of My Little Pony.
All I remember was at the distinct moment I perked up, focused on what was diffusing out of the overhead speakers and thought 'Oh, so this is music.'
A most interesting booklist I found yesterday on tumblr. I aim to at least skim through all of them once, but wow, it feels great to know I made the cut.( the 6/100 booklistCollapse )
- Music:Emmy the Great | Absentee
1. Biology homework. That's me being productive.
2. Watch Phantom of the Opera. I lost the plot halfway through: probably as I wasn't paying much attention.
3. Re-watch House MD Season 1. I need more time. 4. Pack away the books that keep tripping me up near the bedroom door. Time management issues.
21 essay s. I've one left over from today.
Three down. Two to go.
- Music:Fall Out Boy | Tiffany Blews
I have a habit of not completing my sentences, sometimes. Is it my fault for speaking so slowly I don't get the chance to sometimes when they butt in out of impatience?
(Mind-reading abilities is another possibility, but I don't want to dwell on that too much.)
My shyness is turning from a personality trait to an impediment. It's strange getting all awkward, especially in conversation with another man twenty years older, with him being so friendly and all that. He even invited me to a museum visit. I feel almost guilty for not speaking much.
I will be on a spasmodic hiatus, tentatively, as I would like to dedicate more time to studying. Occasionally I would pop by the friends page to comment on the entries, etc but most likely I won't be updating my journal.
That said, I'm not stopping anyone from commenting on past entries.
- Music:My Chemical Romance | Dead!