Sunday, December 12, 2010

There is always a day, isn't there. Where you feel like everything is going to go uphill. Right from that moment.

This is one of those moments. Where you feel like life is just going to give you one last shot. Because you've taken and taken and taken and taken and taken and taken. And then kept taking, until the word taking doesn't even look like taking anymore and looks like a foreign word even you cannot recognise.

Turning points.
That's what history seems to be about, anyway. The Battle of El Alamein. The Plot to Overthrow Hitler. The Cuban Missile Crisis. The fall of the Berlin wall. And more recently, 9/11.

I'm keeping on thinking that my life would keeping on having turning points too. I say Keep On because I reckon it sounds loads more hopeful than Carry On.

I've just seen the movie Forrest Gump. And also The Secret Garden, this afternoon. My family and I were on some kind of crazy movie marathon trip. I've been watching movies since 2pm. First Toy Story 3, then The Secret Garden and then Forrest Gump.

I like Forrest Gump the best. I'm awful glad I watched it.
Tom Hanks is one of the best actors that the world has even known, I reckon. The world is so lucky to have gotten someone like him who can characterize Forrest to a tee. I don't see any other actor doing it half as perfect.

What I like best is how they don't pretend that life is more than it is. Sometimes we take ourselves too seriously. The movie begins, and ends with a feather. It floats for a pretty long period of time, gently billowing in the breeze from left, to right lightly spiraling, white.

For a movie which is narrated wholly by a half-wit, it explores some intriguing ideas.

Some people think they are a feather, and life can blow them this way and that. Some people think they are that thistle in the wind- that all of us are inconsequential and insignificant. Others believe in creating their own destiny and taking what life throws at them and making the best of it.

Gump, with an IQ of 60, inspires me because of his focus. He has a intense focus on what he sets out to do. I think that's what I lack. Focus. The ability to look straight ahead and keep moving with a tenacity that is iron-willed, trudging, but certain.

It reminds me of the judge who spoke to us during JC Law Prog. He said that there could be two guys. One guy is born with the Gift of the Gab. With oratorical skills to shame MLK. The other is born with nothing but a shy disposition and a chronic fear of public speaking.

The second guy, however, has a passion for Law. He desperately loves it with a deep seated desire of wanting to help maintain justice. The former does not feel anything for the law. In 20 years, we will find that the latter is a much better lawyer.

I sometimes feel my head pounding so hard that I want to close my eyes and shut off the world. And I think I shall do that right now because my head is absolutely killing me.

Its Amanda here. Help me to make this turning point a good one.


Monday, November 15, 2010

It's a new day,
But it all feels old
It's a good life,
- Good Charlotte, The Anthem

Its 8:39 in the morning and I'm so happy I think I might just burst. I'm smiling at the computer screen like an absolute retard. I don't even know why.

I really does feel like a new day.

I think it might go away very soon but I don't want to think about just yet.

I'm all nostalgic about the past and how I listened to Welcome to My Life and Avril and The Anthem till I saw the lyrics scrolling down in my head. I feels so nice to sing it to yourself and know all the words because I used to be so obsessed.

I'm happy. And 30 year old me, if you're reading this in the midst your mid-life crisis, know that you lived for a REASON(: And this wonderful mood might just catch you unawares soon. Just go to youtube and listen to I Just Wanna Live or watch Spirited Away or sommat and it'll put in a good mood.

For now, I'm gonna go live.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Seventeen Bottles of Love

Birthdays are strange things. They become less about the colourful presents and more about the beautiful sacrifice of time as we grow older.

My birthday on the 24th of September began like absolute crap. If there were a way to describe it, crap would be the most apt. I felt like someone had dug a hole somewhere in my stomach and was shoveling rats into the it with vengeance. And these were no ordinary rats, but rats which shot flaming fireballs from their eyes and spat acidic poison.

And that was how I felt: rat-pit crap.

My maths teacher was threatening me with demerit points (for a worksheet, would you believe) and I was undone about my history test, I had Chinese prelims which time did not permit me to revise for. I was a mess.

To top it off, my friends had seemed much too busy to remember my birthday. After all, it was, Chinese prelims. I hadn't been expecting much, but I at least (in an egoistical self-indulgent way) hoped someone would say LETS SING A SONG FOR AMANDA! Just the indication that they had remembered would have been enough for me.

No one did.

Until, of course. English class.

HL-3 English class, I can safely say is probably the best thing that has ever happened to me. I have never found a group of people who amuse, touch and amaze me more then them. Toward the end of lesson, Carmen raises her hand and says

"Mdm, can I ask you a question?"

At this point I was thinking to myself- dear heavenly God, I want to ask YOU a question. You obviously forget it's my birthday. Ironic since you made me, but if you didn't forget then why do I feel so depressed and upset? But of course you're not going to answer because my question is not really a question but a bitter tirade of self pity.

And then.

My class began to RECITE.

Line by line, an excerpt from Antony and Cleopatra. And while I was sitting there confused and bewildered, they brought out a PIE with candles stuck in it and began to sing a birthday song for me. (A pie- I love pie)

I was stunned.
Absolutely, completely, shocked beyond comprehension. I never saw it coming. I stood there all embarrassed for my previous bitter thoughts and touched as a multitude of feelings assaulted me at the same time- so I did what anyone would do a situation like that. I cried.

I stood there like a fool, tears running down my cheeks like a demented child, loving and loving so much the people who were smiling at me and grinning and Tricia who said loudly "PLEASE DON"T CRY LA" which cracked me up 'bit.

It was the best pie I had ever eaten in my 17 years.

After which things just started getting better- Carissa got me to go down to Skate Park in school, and there was the rest of them waiting for me with cake- and JoshuaQ flinging his sweat around and Polaroids and Krystal's silly faces and Jesern getting smashed in the face with cake. I laughed so hard then- it was a darling surprise.

And then darling Joon lied with impeccability that we had a 'meeting about Independence Day' which met me with (surprise) not a meeting about Independence Day but Niranjan and Damain singing Happy Birthday in a melodiously hilarious line by line fashion. And of course, more cake(: I <3 style="font-style: italic;">Dear God, I thought. Is this how you react when I bitterly abuse you and your divine ways? With beautiful, wonderful friends whom I love so much my heart is bursting at its damn seams to celebrate my birthday with? You're trying to make me feel guilty aren't you. Well, God, it certainly worked. Wont be in a hurry to do that again any time soon.

And God?

Thank you. And sorry- for ever doubting that you forgot it was my birthday.

F1 was bloody brilliant with the food and the service- it would be hard to forget. Sitting across the whole row of pitstops and seeing Alonso's pit stop UP CLOSE and not through a television screen was surreal. Thank you Kevin and Grace- it would be an experience difficult to forget.

And Brazil Brazil! was the bomb, Portuguese songs and a heady, lively and thumping beat. I am going to be a Portuguese dancer when I grow up-

I almost nearly got into Chippendale too.

And this morning, Bob, Cra, Kryst, Loo and France crashed my house, waited 1 whole hour and stood around my bedside while I was still asleep. ASLEEP. Drooling and snoring and being a disgusting unglam piece of grossly sleeping mass.

And when the first sight you see after peaking through your eyelids are your insane friends who you miss you much it hurts clad completely in white- wonder if you're dead and the other thing that people do in such situations. Scream.

And don't look and me with the mong look and say "really" because yes REALLY- I'm a girl. We scream and cry. At least we don't smell like a million unwashed socks after soccer and muddy the floor.

Then they present me a box which say "The White Box of Wonder" which had much alleged significance- according to them, of course. I ignore their attempt at irony and nearly die of laughter when I see Cara has given me her plasticine teeth mould.(made with white plaster of course)

I'm not even kidding- the box things which they found in their houses that were white, assorted white candy, random notepads, the CJC fullscap paper, and other nonsense. (no wonder that shirt looked familiar)and it was so funny I nearly wet myself.

I miss the heady rubbish we get up to- in ACSI its just not the same.

France baked a delicious (and France it was surprising good, really.) brownie cake which we devoured with relish.

They had sacrificed their entire morning for me and I was undone again, only this time is a good way. Destroyed by the sheer love and sacrifice- that during the exams my friends would take time off for me.

THEN my parents brought out this delicious banana cake to share and we ate till we couldn't walk.

I felt like all teenager's birthdays- that I couldn't be seventeen it was too short, too fast, and all too scary.

I felt overwhelmed- like my heart had only 16 bottles to fill but there was love to fill seventeen, and I have decided that that love must be fizzed over like in weddings when the wine spills over the top cup in the stacked structure, over the first cup and down into others- to share.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Sorrow drips into your heart
through a pinhole

Sorrow drips into your heart,
through a pinhole

Just like a faucet that leaks,
there is comfort in the sound

While you debate half empty or half full
It slowly rises
Your love is going to drown

Its 6 days to my birthday.

One always wonders where the time has gone. How did we get here?
And surrealism at its best- how did we get here so quickly?

I celebrate my 17th birthday with my family at Lao Bejing where the food is so terrific I eat more than my poor, misused stomach can hold. The Xiao Loong Bao was just marvelous. Think beautifully crafted skin and hot, thick broth flowing out at every bite. Not to mention the juicy meat chunks.

School has been for the last 6 months- hectic, to say the least.
I've been so busy, too busy i hardly have time to sleep or breathe or muse or think or write. Sometimes, I wonder if it's worth it. Studying so hard, I mean.

And why do I do i?

To get good grades. And why good grades?

To get a good job. And why a good job?

To have money. And why money?

So I will have a nice house, a nice life. And why a nice house and nice life?

THAT is the question.

Now I can say its so I can help others!

But why help others?
Why anything?

I could be a brain in a vat for all I know. I could be dreaming. This could be some 4th layer of consciousness.

But what I DO know, is that right now I'm feeling things and loving things. And maybe that's whats important.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Lets spend the afternoon in a cold hot air balloon.
Leave your jacket behind

Hot Air Balloon by Owl City

Saturday, January 23, 2010

How does history happen?

People make moves. Alter things.

Monday, January 18, 2010

"Scripps tries to explain the feeling of waiting for this life to begin and Posner's quick to tell him that life is not a rehearsal."

The History Boys FF

Of Cereal, Late mornings, and Believing

Life can be summed up by cereal.

Sweet, crunchy and hard.

Its really a special, profound kind of food. It makes you happy. Cereal is good. In whatever colour, shape, size or quantity, CEREAL IS CEREAL. (And dunked in fresh milk, it even more fabulicious. Mark my words.)

Recently, i have been surviving on a sub-cereal diet of Honey Bunches of Oats, Blueberry Morning, Fruity Pebbles, and Frosties. It mostly makes me annoyingly energetic and excited about things in general. After, i lie on the couch and prepare for a wind down with Disney reruns on cable.

That basically sums up my life.

Its been a great time.

Theres 10 more days till school term officially begins. Im stoked. I dont know where im going to get into yet. Its like being caught in a limbo, not pleasant, but not unpleasant either.

These days are not here to be remembered.

I reckon, more to be felt. Experienced.

Theres been sleepovers with Deb, many many mattresses, breakfastses, my virgin drunkedness, the humiliation of my virgin drunkedness, the cycling-till-i-cannot-feel-my-arse-while-imagining-the-future-of-childlessness, the swims, the beach, the prayer meetings, the sun, the wind, the rain, the bandhero, the new friends, the old friends, the in-the-middle-of-new-and-old friends, the open houses, the tennis.

The end of holiday ushers in a new term of bright new hopes and ambitions, fresh new fears and inhibitions.

But nothing some cereal cant cure.


Friday, January 01, 2010

"Thoughts meander like a
restless wind inside a letterbox
they tumble blindly as they
make their way across the universe"

Today is the first day of 2010.
Life has a habit of being surreal.

Surrealism seems to me like a purple word, a very light flimsy and pretty colour which provides a kind of gauzy fragility.

Its gonna change though.


Im actually excited.