Me and Ms June

All of a sudden, everybody close to me is experiencing or has just experienced a break-up, as if we didn’t have enough troubles.

All of a sudden, everybody close to me is experiencing or has just experienced a break-up, as if we didn’t have enough troubles.

G switched off her first and painfully short relationship, bacause the boy had been  triple-speeding up everything while she had wanted to take her time. One was strolling along in the hope of taking all views into her eyes, while the other was darting ambitiously towards somewhere he didn’t even know.

N finally let go of a nearly two-year-old on-and-off battle, during which i witnessed at least twenty split-ups. Constant arguments, ignited by the expanding distance between two coninents,  over the phoneline sent everything relevant to love straight to the bin.

E bravely called off her first cross-racial relationship, despite the boy’s sapphire-blue eyes, six-pack abs, and, of course, her girlfriends’ previous envy. “Cultural difference was the bitch”. He got significant marks deducted everytime he called any attempts from  her to pass on Asian values and customs “stupid”.

Even J, my notorious play-boy friend who had taken pride in his “girls-come-and-go,-only-I-move-on” philosophy, shedded a few tears over his recent parting with a girl. He even shockingly referred to her as “his woman” for the first time in his countless sex-based encounters. Gee, she must be phenomenally special!

Amid such a vortex, I found cynicism, my good buddy, quietly sitting at my side and wiping sweats away from my forehead. While I have been listening to Katie Melua’s  “The Closest Thing to Crazy” over 10 times daily, my heart actually has walked away from the bittersweet craziness that Melua fearlessly immerses in in the song.

Dedicating this song to those who still have faith in love and those who are still holding on–

The Closest Thing to Crazy

(Vocal: Katie Melua; Written:Mike Batt)

How can I think I’m standing strong
Yet feel the air beneath my feet
How can happiness feel so wrong
How can misery feel so sweet
How can you let me watch you sleep
Then break my dreams the way you do
How can I have got in so deep
Why did I fall in love with you

How can you make me fall apart
Then break my fall with loving lies
It’s so easy to break a heart
It’s so easy to close your eyes
How can you treat me like a child
yet like a child I yearn from you
How can anyone feel so wild
How can anyone feel so blue

She’s calm, she’s edgy

she’s crawling out of the swamp, she kickes off the ladder beneath her feet

She’s calm, she’s edgy

she’s crawling out of the swamp, she kickes off the ladder beneath her feet

She knows how, she doesn’t want to change a thing

She’s head over feet, she’s got only music lingering

She fastforwards the scene, she realises no one deserves her better

She gives away unexpected tears, she laughs off her naivety

She hears sots yelling outside, she tears off her soul to float with them

She wakes herself up, she stabs the night with the least mercy.

How, how has she come all this way?

Who, who is she to be blue?

Why, why does it always rain on her?

What, what memory leads her to being ready?

When, when does she wash her hands off the mess?

Where, where does she go to feel  all good?

As I told some of you before, Blog has become a major outlet for my emotional instability, at least during this month of constant insanity and repeated self-destruction.

As I told some of you before, Blog has become a major outlet for my emotional instability, at least during this month of constant insanity and repeated self-destruction. Writing non-academic stuff does help to de-stress, cleaning a path out of a swamp dumped with pretentious s*** ending with ”-zation”, “-logy”, and “ment”. God bless free web publishing- and I no longer care that much about those random gaudy irrelevant ads flashing shamelessly on my Blog, without the least scrutiny. But,wait, what if oneday the webmaster decides only by putting on porn ads could sufficient profit be brought in to keep my Blog running?

Actually, there’s another reliable source that I can always count on for quality relaxation - Bridget Jones! Yes, I watched the film for the10th time last night, and didn;t even feel the least boredom. I swear I know the lines better than methodologies of the research project that I’m supposed to finish in 3 weeks. Yes Bridget rocks, regardless of how cluelessly she often acts, how verbally incontinent she is, and how naively she evaluates the vile opposite gender. The whole storyline might be plain and pale, but just one little line could effortlessly sweep away all the drawbacks :”Frankly, if staying here means working within ten yards of you, I’d rather have a job wiping Saddam Hussein‘ s arse”! Yes, this is about R-E-S-P-E-C-T!

“Whenever you feel like criticising anyone, just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had”.

-The Great Gatsby, F.Scott Fitzgerald

I travelled thousands of miles

Only to find Sphinx devoured the tunnel

I travelled thousands of miles

Only to find Sphinx devoured the tunnel

The tail of light, only right out of sight

Deliberately, desperately, defiantly

I shed away my armour

Drop my sword

Throw myself in the throat of Sphinx

Now it smirks

“Forsaking a humble body

Won’t even bring back the sanity”

“You never learn, June”, a furiou, despearte, stern voice is screaming inside my numbing heart. Yes, here I am again, amid another frenzy of essays. Hence, catchphrase of the month: 14,000 words due in less than a month! What have I been doing during the past 2 months? “Chilling-out”! As I made my bed, so I must lie on it now, comfortably or not.

I still remember the time when I would finish assignments a week well in advance. Ironically, that was not very far away-only two years ago, I think. See time not only flies, but also kills. The victims list goes endless: an ambitious mind, an industrial pen, a conscientious load of braincells, an endurable pair of eyes that don’t get dizzy every half an hour , etc.

And guess what am I doing simultaneously? Watching “Simple Life 2″ trash on TV, deliberately  degenerating my descending level of IQ. Yes mate, let’s try to make the bed as messy as possible, eh? So that once we get through all this craziness after countless sleepless nights, we can proudly claim our extraodinariness and invicibility back?!

Older, none the wiser.

Dedicating this song to me, myself, and I –

Driftwood

(Vocal: Travis; Written: Fran Healy)

Everything is open, Nothing is set in stone, Rivers turn to ocean, Oceans tide you home,

Home is where the heart is, But your heart had to roam, Drifting over bridges,

Never to return, Watching Bridges burn,

You’re driftwood flating underwater, Breaking into pieces, pieces, pieces,

Just driftwood hollow and of no use, Waterfalls will find you, bind you, grind you,

Nobody is an island, Everyone has to go, Pillars turn to butter, Butterflying low,

Low is where your heart is, But your heart has to grow, Drifting under bridges,

Never with the flow,

And you really didn’t think it would happen, But it really is the end of the line,

So I’m sorry that you turned to driftwood, But you’ve been drifting for a long, long time,

Everywhere there’s trouble, Nowhere’s safe to go,

Pushes turn to Shovel’s, Shovelling the snow,

Frozen you have chosen, The path you wish to go,

Drifting now forever, And forever moreYou’re driftwood flating underwater, Breaking into pieces, pieces, pnieces,

Just driftwood hollow and of no use, Waterfalls will find you, bind you, grind you,

And you really didn’t think it would happen, But it really is the end of the line,

So I’m sorry that you turned to driftwood, But you’ve been drifting for a long, long time…

For the first time, I objected Martyn Mr.Good’s statements aggressively. It all started with Zhang Ziyi Miss I-Am-The Godess. Poor Martyn, he actually thought she’s pretty! Unfortunately she’s on top of my “Boo” list, for her pretentious manners and questionable path to fame.

But, the conflicts of our points don;t end here. Mr Martyn further sang his praises for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Wrong agian, man. It’s just another martial art film , with  gimmicky techniques and refined settings-safely exotic, of course, to grab you naive foreigner’s eyeballs and meanwhile steal your orientalist sentiments. Hmm they did it quite well, eh?

Where A’s the ordinary becomes B’s novelty, it is Cultural Diffenrence the Bitch’s carnival. Call me cynical or negative, but the annoyance and anxiety outweigh the excitement of discovery. Especially when it comes to well-established personal framework of black and white.