one more crazy idea.

Damn. This is scary shit.

www.hotel626.com

But then, how is this viral supposed to promote Doritos? I don't really see any connection. 

Snacks = scary?

Oh possibly. Incessant snacking causes you to be lethargic and indolent. You fall into this... Forget it. Too much of a stretch. Apparently, I'm still not skilled at smoking. All that deconstructing art in front of school kids at the Singapore Biennale obviously isn't cross applicable. 

But...it's giving me ideas. Like Art History. Like Art History and Curatorship post-grad diploma at ANU. Specifically me studying for a post-grad diploma in Art History and Curatorship at ANU one year from now in Canberra. HMM...tempting. Quaint. Completely mad. Exactly my kind of insanity. 

From now on, I shall curse in French, German or Latin (do they have swear words?). No fucks. Whoops. No penis-es and cuts and slices within the same sentence. I shall call them weewees. All because my retard bro said so.

I'm going to mum-mum. Ta-ta!

little mis-take.

Concept by Tong.

making lists.

1. I'm suffering from Illustrator withdrawal. Cos I'm home without my mac and Tong just gave me an awesome design idea.

2. I need to rant about a certain half-wit but I'm nowhere as stupid as him to do it here. If I could, I'd wrench his malfunctioning balls off. Since they're not doing much for him anyway (probably stopped producing testosterone since he was 5), they could provide gruesome entertainment for me. Alternatively, I could slice his dick longitudinally and pour salt over it every 2 days to make sure it doesn't heal. (Castration is much too lenient for my taste.)

3. Catwalk = crawl on all fours. I can't figure out which planet my o-neh (opposite neighbour) came from.

4. The Economist ads give me a brain orgasm every time I see one. I just had to say that again.

5. Edward Cullen.

Believe me, I am shame-faced to admit I've recently joined the legions of gullible teenage groupies lusting after the very sexy, very cocky and very tortured vampire in Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series.

The draft for Midnight Sun has left me ravenous for more. Every time I read about the little actions and decisions he makes that betray his stupendous affection for (@#$%&...I cannot believe I forgot the girl's name!! Can't be bothered to check), my emotions go berserk. My heart rate soars to an absurd velocity and a shiver goes through my entire being. And my palm aches. I don't know how but my palm aches every time I read something ridiculously romantic. And then I actually make an audible 'aw.' (This has never happened before. I have, hitherto, only ever made mocking 'aw's.) with a face that has 'I am putty in your arms' written all over.

I am only an inch away from holding up a picket sign that says "Cullen I love you. Please marry me!" HAHAHA. Just kidding. Anyways, he should marry me. I'm a vampire too. (: You know damn well we shouldn't have interspecie-al marriages, so there!

chocolate fondue.

I am getting better at this. (:

Another one:

Hohoho.

All images Illustrator-drawn.

On friday nights, I take a holiday from reality.

It's not healthy, I know. 

But I never asked for it.

And mama mia! You know that I'm not that strong.

my crush.

Jason Wade is only 7 years older than I am. Why didn't he wait for me?? ):

I am having a hugeass crush on him. His soulful eyes. And why does his voice reach into the deep recesses of my heart and spread its warmth from there until it fills my whole heart and intoxicates my brain? His voice has this half-muffled quality that other people can only recreate with a specialized microphone. He exudes this bad boy charm but at the same time gives off a vibe that he's decent and sensitive at heart. And I am a puddle of water with guys like that. He has a voice that can make me tear, in the dark of the night. I'd ask him to sing me to sleep.

Yes, I wish I belonged to you, Jason. 

super trouper era.

HAHAHA.

___________________________________________________

I think I'm kinda stressed...but I feel relaxed. Okay not really, something like there's a lot of stuff behind this door and my back is pushing against it to prevent the stuff from bursting out. There's an avalanche coming. I can feel it, but I don't have to feel it to know it because it's too obvious. Duh. I have all these work piling up and I've just been pretending there's nothing to do and never getting round to them. Wasting time is one hell of an addictive activity. Like arcade and mindless games. There's gotta be a paper on it; I've gotta find it. Ah see, that's where my time goes to. 

The problem is...I've got all these work, I don't even know where to start! Like if I start on this, what about that one?! seems more urgent, ok I'll finish that up first. no wait, but I gotta complete that one. ah fuck it, I'll just play totem destroyer until the clock hits the next hour, nicer time to start work. I want a Wii. 

And I'm getting so damned lazy I can't even finish sentences. Like I'll start telling Jiafen about something: "Oh my god, you know what. I MUST tell you this...aiya never mind. Lazy to say already." She wants to strangle me, I know. I've gotta invent a simpler way to bathe if not..."I'm pretty much fucked." (in Tong's words) Cos I NEED to be clean but I hate the hassle of bathing. It's just that it's such an elaborate procedure. And there's protocol to follow and I get so upset when I mess up the steps sometimes although it's ridiculous cos I'm doing it everyday right. Like I've gotta do it step by step if not it'll affect stuff like the timing and the amount of time the soap stays on for disinfection to be completed, etc. And doing laundry in hall is a bitch.

I just bought a fountain pen. It is so old school. Why do I like writing so much? When I paid for it at kino, the cash register flashed "expensive pen/refill". Says the same on the receipt. Haha damn cute.

I've never typed a more mindless post. But I figured maybe I should stop being such a purist and loosen up. And I can't stand the use of I's. Ugh, read from some psych report that the use of more than 3 I's in a sentence is an indication of insanity. It really disturbs me when I see all these I's, oh my god. Val should employ a third person style of writing. She's breathing easier now. This is totally crazy. crap

is press freedom really important?

When I was younger, I would pester my mom for ridiculous stuff to eat at breakfast, like ice cream, or some cold stuff. Of course, she would always say no. Then I would press my case by citing that Westerners do that (must be the TV). And she would always reply: "Asian stomach is different from Western stomach."

I've been receptive to the idea of press freedom from the time I was first introduced to it. That's a no-brainer because I am an idealist. It is also the reason why I can't agree with my parents on many issues.

In many ways, Singapore has a relatively free press. At least, I don't know of local journalists being killed for being on the wrong side of the fence. That could mean that our journalists don't venture into contentious areas. Which is true because our media mostly covers local news; it isn't an international press. But our papers have been generally open to alternative views held by more radical Singaporeans. We have forums, avenues for arguments against mainstream ideas, etc. Yes, we are quite liberal…except for the things we don't hear.

The way our mass media is is not quite like places where journalists are assassinated for writing about the truth. Our media works in a more subtle way. News are framed in a way that persuades you to think in a certain way and come to a certain conclusion; some information is omitted; and of course, there is the omnipresent threat of libel suits looming somewhere overhead. But as I said, all these do not apply so strikingly to general issues. They come down hard on the opposition. Politics is largely a taboo subject in Singapore. You get flak whichever side of the fence you stand on, just which kind.

Having established that press censorship in Singapore mostly applies only to politics, why is the West so critical of Singapore's position on press freedom? I have to admit that Kishore Mahbubani planted more than just a seed of doubt in my mind about the idea of press freedom. When I was through reading his article (An Asian perspective on human rights), I found my ideals in shambles. He is mainly anti-West, but speaks behind a veil of pluralism in his arguments. I wouldn't normally be receptive to such tones but I find him incessantly persuasive. Also, it probably isn't wise to be swayed by the anecdotal arguments he provides but they are compelling examples, evidences and analogies.

Why are my beliefs shaken? Firstly, I am Asian. No matter how much I've been exposed to Western media and ideologies. I have loyalties that will forever lie with my roots, even if they're not manifest. Secondly, because I am Asian, I have to recognize that in our fight for better lives, we have no one else to depend on. We alone have to decide which ideologies are beneficial to our survival. Because isn't human rights about having better lives ultimately?

Mahbubani has established that human rights and press freedom are Western notions and I don't contest that. These are notions relatively new to us. But if all human beings should be awarded such rights, it does seem to contradict Western ideals when they try to force such notions down our throats. The problem with us blindly accepting such ideals without weighing their benefits is that we may neglect to see the political agenda behind their advocacy. And you know damn right there must be some kind of vested interest involved. But it is perfectly justified, because they too have their own allegiance. What I'm saying is that we shouldn't allow ourselves to be led like merry fools into a situation we may not be able to handle, and let ourselves be sacrificed for their ideological purity.

I find myself agreeing with Mahbubani and our government that we should hold our grounds and decide for ourselves whether or not it will benefit us to subscribe to such ideals. Are we ready for a free press? Superficially, I might say yes, we are literate enough for that. But are we proactive enough to take advantage of that? These are noble ideals. They are the kind of ideals that detractors will find hard to argue against when activists lobby for it. You have to admire LKY for his firm stand because few can ever decry such ideals and come out smelling clean.

The day we take that step towards an unprecedented degree of press freedom, I hope we do it for the right reasons, not just for the sake of it. Can we really stomach these high Western ideals and not suffer a massive tummy-ache?

sometimes.

Sometimes I get a flashback of our past and I am gripped with a fear that I can't live without you. They find me at the most impossible moments. When I am solving a math problem beside my student, in the midst of a test, even midsentence during a conversation with someone. And then my heart turns cold at the thought of never having you cry with me again.

I think of leaning in (sober) with another man, our breaths mingling as his lips brush against mine and I baulk at the imagery.

The gaps between my fingers that I am so certain can be filled by no other hand...are still empty. Sometimes, I clasp my own hands together just to feel the webs fit in a perfect interlock. Sometimes, I turn so swiftly at the whiff of Ralph Lauren because it brings me back to our first December that I think you have left me forever scarred.

But sometimes, I am euphoric. My heart bursts with the liberation I had so courageously seized from you, resolutely in a fit of clarity. I turn my back on you, your selfishness and inadequacies, and I am greeted by the brightness of my impending journey. I can only look forward and leave the past behind. Sometimes, I ache for it. The certainty and optimism and I want to scream to you: "Get out of my life!" 

I don't want to wake up to the sound of your gentle rapping on my door at odd hours. Especially because I am some kind of medicine for your loneliness. Because you are not my cure.

life and death.

I've been looking for controversial news articles about Singapore politics by news agencies abroad since 530am for the SC2214 midterms. And it just struck me that Chee Soon Juan would be exactly the type of person my parents won't understand. Okay, not that it would take a giant leap of intellect to figure that out but I've never really bothered myself with him until just now. In fact, I recall my parents discussing about him years ago. Hmm frankly...they were puzzling over the discrepancy between his publicized 'antics' and his profession (which in their opinion should warrant more mature behavior). But I wouldn't blame them. Where did they get their news from? Singapore media.

So I should have paid more attention before judging him but I'm apathetic. Now that I've gotten all my information from the correct sources (I hope), I rather admire his ideals. What could have inspired a man to fight so hard for democracy in a place where few others cared? In his words, he would persevere even in the face of a lifetime's bankruptcy. And he's almost a lone warrior in this war. How many of us could claim to join him? I wouldn't. Truthfully. I won't pretend to be noble. If push comes to shove and I really find my ideologies incompatible with what my country has to offer, I would simply pack my bags and leave. 

But I think it is people like him who live a worthy life. Because when we combust into nothingness, what is left of us is all that we have fought for and believed in. We are nothing but our ideals. Don't tell me about all that afterlife, next life, past life stuff. What we have is only here and now and causes we believe in. Chia Thye Poh - exiled for 23 years. We might look at these people and wonder what the hell they were thinking. Why can't they just bite their tongues and pretend to obey? But they might be looking at us, laughing, knowing in their hearts that people like us will live our whole weary lives without ever tasting the passion of a fervent belief. Sometimes, I wish I were a religious zealot just to feel that gusto, or even just that sense of solidarity with like-minded comrades. I would go to Church and cell groups, privately wishing hard to be converted but I can't be convinced.

And then still, there are others who lead lives punctuated with sufferings that culminate in a premature truncation. I don't know what to make of it. Except that it actually pains me. And why do dying people always claim to see people from their past who are already dead? I should probably look for scientific explanations right. Like hallucination, pre-death trauma whatever. But actually, when it comes to your loved ones, it is so much more heartening to use religion to explain things surrounding their deaths. I see why religion holds so much appeal. I mean, I've always known that but... It's an opiate. And I'd rather be stronger than that, I want to.

study study study.

If I had kids in the future, I wouldn’t send them to school in Singapore. Why? Look at me. I am a failure of the system. It’s probably going to take a decade to right the damages the system has done me.

If I’ve learned anything at all, it’s that to thrive in this world, it’s not to do what everyone else is doing, it’s to do what you’re good at and be the best in the world for it. Since the time I was ripe for a college education, my mom has been telling me, a business degree seems the most marketable one around, in the tone that suggests I’ve made the most frivolous choice for my future. Never mind I have zero business instinct; if I had to sell something, I might end up being persuaded to pay the person for having it. What sub-prime crisis, nosebleed interest rates, I’m only just beginning to recognize these terms. It almost takes a few years off my life expectancy to plough through finance related news articles I’ve been trying to read to keep up with the recent saga. Oh right, the most important point to note is with my A level grades, I can’t even get myself into Biz school. I’m not trying to absolve myself of the blame but guess what’s the real reason? Everyone is trying to get in because everyone says that’s where the moolah is. I’m not interested and it isn’t even remotely because of sour grapes. Of course, nothing against people with genuine passion in finance.

I remember years ago, when we were worrying about admission into college, Debra gave me the statistics. You know the statistics, I can’t remember exactly but it’s the one about how many percent of the cohort gets dropped along the way and eventually only like 15 to 20% (??) get to Uni. I felt better at that time, after hearing the stats. Stupid ego. Really. Who feeds us those statistics? I’m ready to bet it’s the government. It’s deluding us into a state of security in our ‘intelligence’, stroking our ego and telling us “don’t worry, you’re smarter than all those people, that’s why you’re here!” Total BS. The reason we’re here is only that we’ve survived the system. It’s nothing to be proud of because surviving the system doesn’t mean we’re particularly intelligent. It’s only because we manage to understand elementary Biology and/or Physics and/or Chemistry. It’s only because we’re competing in a system that leaves out many people who are extremely talented in other unexpected ways, and who are actually tons cleverer than us. In other words, we are competing in a system that rewards mediocrity and alienates unique talent.

Imagine you’re amazingly talented in some obscure field. You sit through 6 years of primary education where you’re drilled Mandarin and Math and Science. You’re kicked around in school by your classmates and teachers who think you’re some kind of a retard because you just don’t get what they’re teaching in school. The principal calls your parents in every other time and complains subtly about how you pull down the overall performance statistics of the school and that they should probably send you to a school for the ‘special’ kids where you belong. These 6 years have probably repressed your natural talents anyway and severely undermined your self-esteem and your belief in your abilities. You’ll probably be lucky enough to scrape the PSLE and get yourself into the normal stream at some neighbourhood school where you face even more discrimination and hang around other kids who probably went through the same hell you did. All of you lose faith in the world and commit hideous crimes so that people will for once pay attention to you but instead they put you in a home for delinquents. Blah blah blah (I know I’ve painted an extreme situation.)

But assuming you somehow rose above and got a chance to do what you were naturally inclined towards. (This is a stretch because how would you even know what you’re good at if you were never exposed to it?!) And then you became a great success. THEN the same people who were responsible for putting you in the state you were previously in would be fawning all over you and taking pride for all you ever did on your own. Isn’t it hypocritical? But isn’t it happening all the time? But how many people actually can get to success if their talents are not mainstream? I’d say mostly only the rich kids. Because their parents have the resources to fuck the opinions of all the teachers and principals and let their kids do what they’re good at.

Okay of course that didn’t apply to me. I’m mediocre, I survived the system but now I still can’t find my niche! The problem with our system is that there isn’t enough variety in our early education. It either excludes people or ensures they continue being mediocre doing the stuff they are mediocre at. And then if you manage to get to college with your mediocrity, they give you options. By then, you’d have lost that headstart. It is true though that this system enforces discipline. But discipline for what? To listen to the government and forever remain part of a diligent workforce (i.e. be an employee forever). Great, right? So we should stop complaining about the lack of homegrown talent in Singapore. Get foreign talent. It’s so easy to buy anyway. Let other countries nurture their talent and we’ll buy them in the truckloads.

carpe diem.

Let each one examine his thoughts, and he will find them all occupied with the past and the future. We scarcely ever think of the present; and if we think of it, it is only to take light from it to arrange the future. The present is never our end. The past and the present are our means; the future alone is our end. So we never live, but we hope to live; and, as we are always preparing to be happy, it is inevitable we should never be so.

-Pascal, Blaise

This is true. I've never ever lived for the moment. I've always been planning. Waiting for the time of my life to come and that's when I'll be happy, I say to myself.

Why has this been so? I find that if you believe in a higher being, it's easy to succumb to the sloth of being unaccountable, to yourself, your actions and the consequences you bring to the world around you. Because inevitably, trust in this 'predestination' or design comes with the ideology. So, what you are going to do and what's to happen because of it is bound to happen, you think. I was hugely guilty of this. I walked through life thinking 'if it's meant to be, God will see to it'. When I couldn't find my NKF donation card for about 2 hours, I knelt in front of the Buddha statuette in my living room for close to an hour, beseeching God to help me find it. I walked into my room and found it behind one of the drawers I had frantically opened at least 5 times. How can I, as an atheist now, explain that? I can't. Except to say, human error and oversight. Will you find that explanation plausible? Actually, it does huh? To an atheist.

When I believed in God, I believed that God would most probably make my life good. One day. I had to be good enough, miserable enough now, to probably justify my future boon. And I couldn't be complacent. If I see everything I have and everything that happens at present as something bad or not good enough, something good is bound to come my way right? (That's my warped mentality, don't ask me why. That's why I'm such a pessimist. I've conditioned myself.) So if I got an A for a paper, or if my teacher extolled my essay in class, I just did average, it was pure luck. If I had a great exam, I told everyone I'm gonna scrape for that paper. I simply refused to believe anything good at present. Ah but here's the problem. When will the present actually become the future? If you live in the future, you might find that the future never arrives. I just realized that!

I may not yet be able to define existentialism accurately but I think I have an inkling of what it constitutes. At least, I think it says we create the meaning in our lives. Wikipedia gives an analogy of one standing at the edge of the cliff. At that point, we experience our profound freedom. Nothing predetermines if we should fling ourselves off the cliff or step back. So life is absurd, existence is pointless, but I am responsible for the choices I make. I am responsible for my existence while I am thinking and feeling. Maybe I should stop living in the future and zap myself back to the present because it makes sense! How can I not have seen that? I have the present, it is the assets I hold in my hands. The future is an investment, a gamble even, I might not even get it back. What if I sell out like Merrill Lynch? Boh hua! Haha.

bathroom talk*

Jiafen: “Do you know just now Val was pregnant? Then her waterbag burst. That’s why the toilet floor is wet!! Hahaha!” (She delivered that last line triumphantly, as her lame impulse kicked in. And pregnant = I was wearing one of my pregnant tops.)

Me: “Yah and you know why my waterbag burst? Cos Jiafen was my gynae. And Cylysce was my husband.” (We had a prior enactment, hence the conversation.)

Cylysce: “I’m a good husband! But dunno why my wife is crazy. Last time when I married you, you were normal.”

Yean Ching: “Where’s the baby?”

Jiafen: “Oh I threw it away already. Cos it was expired.”

Note that at this point, everyone in the toilet was speechless and had acquired a stunned expression.

Me: “Yes cos it was past the December 31st timing.” (I recovered.)

Jiafen: “Yah that means the baby cannot join the last year’s intake for school and the government somehow didn’t give money. So I threw it away.”

Mingli was speechless for the course of this conversation. As it expired, she plodded into one of the cubicles.

Tell me how I manage to stay sane with neighbors like that. When I graduate, I will have gained not only a mediocre degree in Communications but also a certification that I am highly skilled in the art of sprouting rubbish on command.

*We were having our nightly teeth-brushing session.

existentialism.

I canNOT believe how much work I'm buried under just 5 weeks into the semester. But then, for the first time in years, I am happy. Really. Oh my god right? (crap i just noticed the pun) Atheism really agrees with me. I think for once in my life, I'm freed. From everything. For once in my life, I see happiness as something that is mine to grasp. If I'm not careful here, I might just embrace optimism as well. Maybe I have already.

But thankfully though, I'm not about to exclaim about the beauty of life (!) and twirl around with glee or something. Life is... life. It is for us to make. For now, I'm happy to have my lovely neighbours, friends and pretty stilettoes I drool over but can't afford yet. Phew! (and the alright hair that I'm afraid to cut again.)