the shatter of earth's collapse
☂
Not that anyone will actually see this, but you might or might not have gotten the reference above...anyway. Please do note that this online journal has been fighting the battle of neglect and time, often on the losing end, and really does feel like some sort of blue elephant that one's got to keep somewhat alive. For the sake of tradition, I suppose.
(K) Yuan here.
linkage
blue birds flap fandoms + happiness + the lot where the ego centersit's all quite narcissistic, really.
Time: 2:54 AM
Author:(potassium)
Permalink: isolation →
it's been a while and now.... university?
i've been sitting here for a few sleepless nights now (more of jetlag really) and clicking buttons and filling in forms and wondering is it all going to be worth it? am i taking a huge risk here?
Having been to London/UK.... i realised i would love to study there. or at least, spend time there. It's somewhere i've come to understand, through their history and their art and theatre and television - i would be excited if i were indeed studying there, spending 3 years of my life there. And yet.... my choices and desires don't match up with reality. In a way it ought not to - I have been having it too good. I guess it is time for me to start on a very different path, although I know that my internal direction remains the same. As cheesy as this sounds there will always be a part of me that lights up in a theatre, that connects immediately to this art form, this thing that can be so powerful and so absolutely beautiful. And I know I am capable of making beautiful theatre - one day, somehow, some where - and I am going to do it. I know it. Few things are certain in life right now (especially now) but I am certain of how I will return to/belong/be in theatre, in art. As certain as I am of me eventually dying, in fact.
For now, I have a bit of growing up to do. Whether Canada is a right choice or a good place for me to be at is... well, something I have yet to discover. Another thing is that I won't be having the luxuary of time anymore. I could personally very well carry on with my gap year - i'd be glad to, and i do have plans for it - but right now it does seem like an expense not worth spending, especially to my financial benfactors who have already very kindly agreed to this very expensive overseas education endeavour.
i must admit. i am not as excited about canada as i was when i envisioned "plan B". or as excited as I would be for UK. but never the less, I must learn. I am learning what "privilege" means and it makes me uneasy yet it has given me those comforts.... comforts that have sheltered my view. I am grateful to my parents who have worked to get us all here, but I cannot help wishing that I'd stop resenting how much I don't know because of it. Or... let's face it, how i get snubbed over it. Class is the unspoken word and I'd very much like to speak about it but if only I didn't sound like an absolute cock when i do.
Time: 12:54 AM
Author:(potassium)
Permalink: isolation →
de profundis vis-a-vis #unicornmoments
"I used to live entirely for pleasure."
Reading Oscar Wilde's De Profundis, his letter to his lover from prison, since the exams have ended. (horribly i might add) He may not have been the greatest philosopher to have ever lived, but the profoundness of this man in common public knowledge is vastly underrated. I cannot claim him to be an excellent man, without his pride and some sense of narcissim, but i would certainly have liked to talk him. To be a rat in his cell and sit quietly in the corner, hoping to ease his pains but at the same time, knowing that it is a journey that he alone must take. A brave soul who seeks Truth, and beauty in it. One who has lived in the excesses of his time, and has now fallen so far, so deep.
Of course, the question would always be "WHY BOSIE, WILDE?? WHY?!". Yet it seems necessary that the path should turn the way it did. At least, that's how he writes it. To keep Love in his heart, he says. and for this letter to bring us the gifts that he has.
I don't intend to place him on a pedestal, as tempting as it might be. It would be an ignoble measure. But, i guess i really would have liked to speak to him, to witness, perhaps, Beauty. Because he is, or he can be, a beautiful man. He speaks of a search for Truth that is the meaning of an artist's life, an artistic soul, if not the life itself of all men. He puts to words what Goodness means. And for a young creature at crossroads and swimming in dilemmas, it does help to feel like someone understands, someone knows the way to... where, exactly?
I don't really know what i'm getting at.
Y'know, all there means to life is to be a good person. Even without arguing about specific definitions of 'good', most of us can agree on that. At least, I do. And, silly me, thought that would be enough to tide me into real life, throughout adulthood and all that. But reality hits you and, when you've finally come to terms with yourself, having gone through all the internal peace making and reflection and sensitized philosophizing, you wake up and realize that while you've been cooking up a theory of Life, The Universe, and Everything that would definitely solve all of life's problems, everything tangible has gone on without you. 18 years old, almost at least, 12 years in school and when faced with writing school-leaving documents you realize you have nothing to show for. No awards for competitions, barely passable grades, no scholarships or 'great things' in sight. A brilliant theory and outlook and everything and shit, and not a single person can look at you and believe that.
I mean, one of the things that you're told, and that you believe, growing up, is that you will do well and achieve some form of greatness, or excellence and recognition in your field, when you are an adult. At least, that's what I believed. At this point someone would come in, tsking at the past tense and go "Darling of course you're going to be great, don't go doubting yourself" or sprout some theory of how greatness is defined ("not by grades or acheivements in school"). But what if I can't even be my own greatness? What if I can't even be good, when I have set my own bars? I look to other people - Oscar Wilde, Stephen Fry, great big theatre people - i search for Truth as much as possible in what I do, the manner in which i do things, I judge by means of Beauty, I seek Beauty and Truth for pleasure, to a point where Pleasure becomes all I seek. Do i need a conviction, a jail term where I am educated in Sorrow, in Pain behind which there is no mask, in order to seek Truth, to be a better person, if not good? Where is all this leading? I thought I had a Bosie - I did, i was angry - but turns out, the hold was not strong enough to survive tactic or for it to become monstrous, as it did for Wilde.
perhaps it is incredibly preposterous to compare myself to someone like Oscar Wilde. to parallel myself, even. But in a very silly manner I suppose i hope that this is leading somewhere. That Oscar's theories, which lead him to his places, would lead me also to mine, which at this point are as mysterious to me as to, well, anyone.
The truth is, reality never matches your dreams, or your theories. You want to become an artist and to live the better parts of life - doing research, discovering things, creating businesses - and you want to do it in a country you think greatly of, which, in actual fact, has a more limited system. You look at other places, sure, exciting and all, but you know you're never going to get in. And all that money... with what you have right now - nothing to show for, no grades, awards, prospects of scholarships - you're a waste of your parent's money if you get sent to university. You'd love it, sure, but you wouldn't get anywhere. A mediocre to failure, wandering about trying to prove your Theory right.
Not even my friends think I can do better. And after this post I would simply go back to old ways, same as always, because 'habits are hard to break'. I haven't got the habits of an 'excellent person'. I have that of those too used to pleasure, to fufilling the hunger for beautiful things, of things that are pleasurable, even if they include truth and all that. I haven't got it in me to face more than that, have i.
You know what you want, you know what you'd like to be. You simply haven't got the reality to go be it.
Time: 7:51 PM
Author:(potassium)
Permalink: isolation →
just dropping by
okay just posting something so the first post wouldn't be stuck on that emoangry thing
Hello.
okay done
now off to watch more merlin (it's really quite good i mean the whole thing has the potential to be cheesy but it ain't so 8) and colin morgan's Merlin is *epitome of naturalistic acting* lol)
//
oh fine
been on holidays a lot this... holiday.
oh and finally went bushopping will maybe might post something on it once the photos are processed
which would be quite some time as in never
first was OSL Cambodia - lovely place, great people, notsogreat company but that doesn't matter
(half day touchdown SG and then OFF ON THE)
second was china, in time for being old and grandpa's 扫墓 and things -- also met grandpa's eldest brother and his second wife. interesting couple, and believe a friend found in 二婆婆 (no one knows what to call them anyway so B) ) they live in the US and he knows english and german while she can't survive without him there translating. she's into theatre (!) and taught chinese in high school/junior high (/shamed/). they met when she was 60+ and he somewhere near 70 and you can see how they misfit to fit. Also we brought grandma back (yay). And there was snow !
all was supposed to be well and relaxed and slacking until Brother went off to NS (LOLOL) and then he has off days and requests to go to club med. which leads to the third, where we expose how grossly overpriviledged we are and fly off to club med bali on short notice to spend new year's there.
(and we just came back. a day before school starts. whoop.)
it was okay, didn't join the social clubs and all for once. for starters they looked utterly terrifying and they were all ang mohs who looked like they popped out of a YA novel and in no way would i like to become the protagonist whining all the waay
so yah stayed away, with family. always thought club med's pointless without joining that sort of stuff but it's really actually quite nice. wanted peace anyway, was gonna jump into five days of fandom in isolation before dragged out. oh and also met a South African girl named Alka who's prolly 2 gen Dutch? and was friendly and is pretty and probably lonely so chatted to me hehg. she taught me a bit of Afrikaans (AfriKaans?) which is nice. and observed snotty girls and one particular suspected sg-migrated-australia girl, around my age. a bit more friendly with ang mohs... of course i was like that once but yah.
anyway, should go back to merlin. (*snickers*) DW christmas special was quite messy by Moffat's standard, and idek really really hope he doesn't accidentally sink the entire ship; he is under a lot of pressure from BBC. Power of Three (saved!) is a quite lovely one, think Moffat might need to rest a bit and let other writers take over for more episodes. you can't just keep squeezing yourself for scarily brilliant things better to have lesser scripts of more brilliance than more scripts where you're dry...
i miss the old TARDIS already
i miss Tennant
i miss Donna
:>:
//
aaaand school starts tomorrow.
shyte.
still, hopefully things work out okay. need to make new liasions, no more dylanashley bushes to hide in. isabelle's there (yay!), as are couple of theatre females.
and one offended classmate. B)
(k.)
p.s Amelié is a beautiful beautiful existence
and Yann Tiersen is a genius
along with Murray Gold
who is also an amusing existence.
p.p.s oh, and uh, happy 2013. one more rotation round the sun !
beginning of years aren't very nice. always liked the latter quater better.
Time: 6:06 PM
Author:(potassium)
Permalink: isolation →
note to a character, long past.
it is understandable if you get angry, or frustrated, or sad, or generally moody.
it is understandable if these *moods* affect your work.
it is not, however, an excuse.
however much you're paid and however high you rank you are still doing a service and that service is through a platform that is school and we, students, come to school to learn, and you, a teacher, to teach. to impart knowledge, to facillitate experiences, to interact. and service doesn't (or rather, shouldn't) stop just because you're SAD or DEPRESSED or *divorced* or something or other, and no bullying your students when you don't feel like being a teacher is not going to solve your bloody problems
none of which are, frankly, any of our business unless you make it so.
granted, you can be nice and friendly to us but dammit woman when you are even just slightly pissed it's like PAP's mother's going to strike us with volcanoes and lightnings and no one understands why
and it's so bloody unreasonable that it borders on tyrannical
your behaviour is *guided by the winds and the clouds of your life* and you, as an i/c of -discipline- take the whole student population (along with some of your collegues) into your storm. and then, hey, storm = effective results okay just keep yelling them into place and *proper behaviour*
i'm saying this now and not two years ago for obvious reasons. i'd made stupid decisions and saw the eye of your hurricane - that was my bad judgement. (though it was kinda serving a sledgehammer to a stapler bullet) but when the same/worse treatment is given to others (a friend, no less) for reasons far less severe and hell lot more petty --
this is my grudge against you. specifically, your infantile behaviour.
and for the love of all things you don't even recognise the simplest principle of feedback and its immense value -- not that the system allows much for that, but you. you take it to a whole new level; it's blasphemous to do so. a student tries to provide a comment that would help with your methods (in a subtle manner): an errant, rebellious insult to your face your character you as a superior STORM THEM BACK INTO PLACE
and you're supposed to be a 'role model'.
it's alright to have favourites, most people do. it's fine to show them, it's understandable. but when it clearly disadvantages everyone else and affects your work and their learning is when i want to serve a sledgehammer to your senses.
like a child and his/her playthings; when they don't go as you want, scream and throw a tantrum. and oh look, we can move too! no need for mummy or daddy to move them for you.
i don't mind you seeing this. in fact, i hope that somehow, you would come across this. i think it's bloody obvious without having to mention your name. you're not there anymore and neither am i, hence i write this without censorship. go on, murder me. or if you've unclouded your head a bit, answer me this: why the childish behaviour? It's very easily disguised as discipline, and bullying is terribly hard to define. Your methods may have been acceptable or even praised a century ago, but it's not how archaic they are that is infuriating, it's what drives them: you. you and your very own self.
you repel me.
Labels: pissy rants, pissy woman
Time: 12:38 AM
Author:(potassium)
Permalink: isolation →
thoughts from a red cushion seat
just felt like writing things. well. hello!
nothing much actually. supposed to be doing anthro but distracting mynahs are distracting. retook the Myer Briggs personality test -- got INFP, changed from ENFP or summat like that from two years ago hehg. remember being quite glad to get 'extrovert'.
spent the afternoon revising integration (math yes yes go on have your sharp intake of breath), realised how many holes i actually had that geog took away from math, etc. then i decided to slack for a bit because tiny brain capacities and spent the time til dinner watching bits of Classic Who (because they refused to load the full damn thing) and ended up binging on Buzzcocks (amstell + fielding :>:) (they need to get regina spektor on the show along with an observant guest and have them compete for adorability.) ("THE FIRST JEWISH BUNNY WHO KILLS, WINS.") (okay fine amstell's not there anymore buT STILL)
Oh and father's back from new york (yhy) and got my itunes credit on cards (:D) which Apple, being an arrogant prick, would not allow me to spend in the UK store "since it's US store credit" ->- (MY AAAAMSTEEEELL ;=;) Brother got a giraffe load of stuff which shipped a lot cheaper to there than to here and hence. also a lot of food and over sugared pies. (they look quite scary.)
///
finally got all of regina's (recorded) songs!
after 3 years.
///
"Introversion – along with its cousins sensitivity, seriousness, and shyness – is now a second-class personality trait, somewhere between a disappointment and a pathology. Introverts living under the Extrovert Ideal are like women living in a man's world, discounted because it goes to the core of who they are. Extroversion is an enormously appealing personality trait, but we've turned it into an oppressive standard to which most of us feel we must conform."
- Susan Cain, Quiet: The Power of the Introvert in a World That Won't Stop Talking
read this a few months back and found it profoundly relevant when dugged up. i suppose i would be a closet introvert, and the MBP test kinda shows it, in some way. and it may possibly explain how sometimes other people just don't make sense. sense in a way that can't quite be properly described, sense in someways that their logic is their own segregated herd instinct rather than generally accepted as rational logic (but then again, there's faith to that). sense in the way that they always seem to want to talk about the boring things and that they can make the really great topics absolutely mundane and thick (esp. for themselves) when its all very clear and they'd go "i don't get it!!!!" and then go back to their life and selves of mundane, empty things. it's almost like brave new world. I would go as far as to call it that, actually.
choice, however, remains a liberty. fortunately.
////
i just don't like human beings all that much, alright? if you asked me a lot of 7 billion of them should just wake up and see how bloody useless and excessive they are and just kill themselves as logically as that math prodigy. or rather states shouldn't ban suicide. but then again i'm just being selfish.
7 billion of them and i can barely take a school of a thousand> students at points in time.
(why can't people just think sometimes think and want to think and share your thinking and ideas instead of stamping yours on and going on about yours yours and yours and then drying up and then going back to your perpetual mindlessness and yammering and endless talking what you don't say means a hell lot more i don't have to tell my parents that i love them i don't have to tell my close friends because what you do in the end ties yourself more intrinsically to them, in a manner more powerful and true than common language. because it is only in your established set of language that truth remains and the use of a common universal language is a degradation of connection, rather than any honest acknowledgement between yourselves.)
tired and yet, humanism remains ever naive, ever hopeful, ever persistent.
//////
and don't you dare tell me to stop, just because its absurd to you, and that you'd rather dwell in your happiness, founded on levels of ignorance. happiness is no measure of wealth, but "over-thinking" most certainly isn't a curse and is currently preferable to suicide.
and no. i will not join you.
///////
to find the fine between growing up and moving on.
as much as one desires the former
one abhors the latter with a fiery vehemence trying to be fuelled by nitrogen.
terror, really.
//////
i see a format evolving.
also have been writing a bit. curious trend.
and i should find a theatre geek friend soon. with whom productions can be attended and dissected and theatre'd.
(k).
Time: 11:37 AM
Author:(potassium)
Permalink: isolation →
AND IT IS OVER.
while bumping out it suddenly struck me that this is how my 15 year old life is going to be remembered as. carrying out blocks after blocks after props after tech lights and tech things and rushing into and out of costumes and spending all your time outside of class in rehearsals going into spaces to create and believe in a realm that we'd share with 50 or so people, one show after another crafting a character that makes sense however moronic he is and being and believing throughout his emotional journey with the silent god of theatre omnipresent then coming out of all that into your mother's car and getting home and groaning about the lines and returning to your books and undone homework and then falling asleep to get back up the next day to do all of this again, with a constant pressure pushing your sometimes lethargic self til the moment of the final, final line of the closing show ; while every other sec 4 2012 student ends up remembering this year as books books tys prelims papers macs books paper and all, we get all this. It's absolutely frightful and humbling and heartening, all at once.
And I guess this is why I don't regret coming here.
///
Okay i now have a day to finish a graded math essay and a graded set of slides on either the RSS crisis or gender equality for women. A day. And here I am writing this thing.
////
i guess the shows on friday were the better ones. i know i held back a little just that little and i think it might have been my voice/dry throat but still think that one, final show that could have been the best wasn't there. i know huilin said "no regrets" but i guess this is one of my small ones. (along with the lamentably short amount of rehearsal time)
i do wish they came for the friday one. san + sara, i mean. and probably wei khai + friend.
/////
lines from rhino keep playing in my head lol. especially when i sleep so i'd be reading berenger's lines in the last monologue while on the pillow before i realize my body is tensed up like his as well.
oh why won't you leave me alone you clingy narcissist. (frankly I still imagine benedict as him really &) )
\\\\\
laughing audience member(s), your identity is known and while i took it as nervous laughter it got to the cast+crew+directors of rhino and if you don't show some sense of self or respect by doing your part in the literature presentation you're going to get it from me. oh you can not listen or laugh me off, sure, you can't be helped.
so that will be it.
you cannot be helped.
//////
oh and also
I went for Hair for Hope yesterday! (in my sherlock shirt :D) (NO ANDERSONS ALLOWED (Y) ) It was really lovely to see so many people taking a stand with these marginalized people and telling children that it's okay to be bald -- by starting with the larger society.
Day Two's fine so far. Mother can't stop touching my head and took endless photos yesterday, before & after. They give goodie bags and in it they have a tiny bottle of nice-smelling shampoo from body shop; all the shampoo you'd ever need! 8) Still can't quite reconcile the coolness of head with 'i do not have all that much hair now'. And my scalp is really saggy soft o_O
///////
agbkjdbkBKBKBDFKD math math FOCUS LAH YOU GOONDU
okay fine au revoir
(k).
Time: 9:23 PM
Author:(potassium)
Permalink: isolation →
strange urge to just talk and talk and talk and talk until everyone leaves, even those closest to me.
talk and talk and talk endlessly, and when things run out of me to say I pretend to be a bad actor acting as me or what heshe knows to be me so heshe moves and speaks and forgets the truth forgets belief and the epitome of ham acting and stock in trades and caricatures and empty and failure comes from this very unmessy blob surrounded by neatness and scratches and no space to wriggle and make tiny errors.
///
me me me me me me me me I I I I I I I I it's okay no one knows anything these days why are you trying so hard to differ for the sake of it you're unique you're strange you're outside no you're the gate the photographer at the gate me me me me my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems your problems are huge but my problems exist too my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems just drown drown in your self pity my problems you're not even depressed why the hell are you whining you pathetic bitch my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems the stars beyond look at the stars you don't count look at the stars my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems you're unique you're special you can do it my problems my problems no you cannot you blithering fool you don't need all those words and you certainly don't deserve that much some perhaps but not all of it my problems your problems my problems your problems my problems your problems my problems my problems your problems my problems your problems my problems your problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my problems my 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alienateleave
your friends family persons classmates workmates mates strangers mates people persons brother sibiling human humanity your
self from even your own body
til there's nothing left in the distance
and you can walk through the wreckage in peace
and bury yourself in your death
eternal solitude
eternal quiet
eternal companion
all the eternals you want
just not human souls.
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especially those closest to me.
photo background by all material copyright © don't play on the stairs 2011. theme by aellyniq.