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Tuesday, December 09, 2008
I had a dream. I dreamt that we were together again, you and me. But this time, I knew we were not meant to be, and so did you. But we were together, in a distant dimension, picking up where we left off. And failing terribly. We both knew we had to call it off, yet, neither of us did. It was as though I was hoping against every hope that a miracle would pull us through this dark patch. And it was as if you were jaded and couldn't be bothered with me, with us, anymore. And then I woke up. Afraid and disappointed. Disappointed that after so long, you are still in my subconscious. That even when I sleep, you still haunt my thoughts.And afraid. Afraid that my subconscious is right. Afraid that you feel exactly the way my subconscious does.And now you have left me alone again, after so many hints and allegations. You build me up and leave me feeling good about myself, and you. Then you disappear, leaving me high and dry. And you know I will not come a-knocking for you. Blame it on my pride; blame it on me wanting to preserve my heart; blame it on a fear of rejection; blame it on me wanting to have the upper hand. And you have locked me out. Out from your life. I think it's time for me to move on. To really move on. Yet... my dreams tell me otherwise. They send me mixed signals. I never remember my dreams. Yet this one's stuck with me 5hrs after I dreamed it. What am I doing? It's been 10 months. I think that's time enough for me to move on. Do I have to give myself 3 years to fully get a grip on reality?I think it was this time of the year last year when we went through some of our most intense feelings. And some of our best and most intense times together. I guess the body has a recall mechanism of its own eh? Oh I can't wait for Christmas to be over. And for next February to go by.
Friday, November 28, 2008
I think, I need more of that thing called 'confidence'. To be able to think 'fuck the world, I know what I am and I am not affected by what the world presents to me'. Of course, that is a fallacy. If only I could practise what I preach. Why do I let stupid silly small useless things affect me so? What happened to that confidence I built up? Where's it all gone? Why am I so weak? How can I survive in this industry if I let such small things break my spirit?
Thursday, November 13, 2008
I wrote you a letter;It contained everything I wanted to sayWell, not really everythingBut mostly what I had to get out of the wayIt wasn't long and winding,Neither was it short and succinct.In fact it was rather painful and it hurt that I had to be so curtYou made me this way,I'm sorry,But 'Sorry' doesn't change a thingSo I'm handing this letter to you right nowAnd I'm going to be walking awayIf I had my choice I'd choose otherwiseBut Life is one bitch of a rideCircumstances, they sayI've got nothing to hideMaybe I lie when I say thatBecause I am not revealing everything that's on my mindBut that's for me to deal withNot youFor you've chosen to walk awaySo now I'm walking away from the spot where you once stood inAnd turning my back to you.I would have stayed there forever to catch you if you fellTill I realised I was gradually becoming rooted to the groundOne thing still needs to be said, I thinkAnd I think I've been quite clear with youI've bared my heart, my soul and everything of meIn walking this far with youExcept. This letter, I've yet to give it to you.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
I think I see a little bit clearer now. Sometimes when the time comes, we just have to let go. Up and go. Move on. Like the snail that grows out of its little shell. It has to move on and find a larger home, one more suited to itself. Or it will die from being strangled and suffocated by it's unwillingness to let go, or even fear of finding something new.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
What the fuck is wrong with people? Seriously, I don't get anyone anymore. Is it just me? Am I the one who's losing touch with the harsh reality of things? Or am I just expecting too much of the people around me? Seems like the only people you can really count on these days is your family. I just can't fucking keep up with this shit anymore. I just want to write everyone off, just keep working, screw intimate one-on-one or personal relationships. I'm happy with huge impersonal social gatherings. Where everyone gathers, gets pissed, has a jolly good time, and goes home. Why is it that it seems as if everyone has a huge network, yet I can't even keep a tiny one going? I really hate this shit. Do I have 'come make use of me then ignore me to hell' written on my forehead? If I do, I fail to see it. All I see in the mirror is a disillusioned embittered cynical angry isolated individual. Maybe my occupation should have been a hermit eh?No one means anything anymore. Nothing means anything anymore. Except my art. Let my art encompass and infiltrate every part of me. Everything else is inconsequential and transient. We came into the world alone, and we leave it alone.No sentimentality. Everything is an opportunity cost. Every relationship is part of a learning curve.Maybe I should dig out my heart and soul and bury it deep within the recesses of some swamp. That way least I know where it is, and it's safe from society's manhandling.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
7 September 1753hrsThese pangs of introspection and wishing I was elsewhere but here permeate my idle thoughts. yet I am getting increasingly settled in to this existence here. I adapt. If there's one thing I naturally do well, it's adapting to change. I am an actor. I have to. It's my job.Yet despite becomingly increasingly adapted to this place, I still have idle thoughts of being elsewhere; where life is different. yet when I think such thought, there is always the safety of knowing they're mere thoughts and fancies. I lack the courage and motivation to actually up and go in reality. I need a reason to do it. I need a reason to want to be elsewhere, not a reason to not want to be here. Subtle different, but it counts for a world of difference when it comes to finding my motivation and drive. Right now I don't have a reason to want to be elsewhere, but I have a reason for not wanting to be here. Is that good enough? 'But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do Sunday morning rain is falling and I’m calling out to you Singing someday it’ll bring me back to you Find a way to bring myself home to youThat may be all I need In darkness she is all I see Come and rest your bones with me Driving slow on Sunday morning And I never want to leave'
I need to wean myself off this feeling. This ever elusive feeling that lies dormant and pops up with no warning and latches onto my thoughts. Oh why are we women so weak?! Frailty thy name is woman!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
24 August 1310hrsTwo butterflies frolicked amongst the traffic, dancing a little courtship dance amidst the consumerism and metal automobiles. As they twined and intertwined higher and more frantically, one suddenly took off. The other fluttered, lost and frantic, backtracking into the midst of vehicles, almost as if courting doom in its desperate attempt at seeking its love. Then it seemed to find it was and returned to the dance floor where it last saw its love.Its poor lonesome dance ended concluded with it coming back down to earth, after a failed and brief but ephemeral incandescent dance in the air. It found its was back to reality, amongst the flowers, where it belonged, doing what it was created by nature to do.Hilda, 'Sometimes nature can give you answers.'
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
I think I am beginning to assimilate an inkling of this... entity in me.I am afraid of letting it go. Because......it was the best I could find.And I don't want to let go of it. For fear of never returning back to it.Or maybe even being afraid that if I let it go, it will melt away into the vicissitudes of the shores of my vast memories. And cease to hold any special significance. And I will be left with nothing. Nothing but the burnt out grey remains of a once beauteous effervescent sparkler. Now lying pointless, exhausted of its function, form and meaning. Fit for nowhere but the depths of the dirt.How does one shy away from sentimentality?Hold on
Hold on to yourself
for this is gonna hurt like hell.
Hold on
Hold on to yourself.
You know that only time can tell
What is it in me that refuses to believe
this isn't easier than the real thing.
Am I in heaven here or
am I...
At the crossroads I am standing.
So now you're sleeping peaceful
I lie awake and pray
that you'll be strong tomorrow
and will see another day
and we will praise it
and love the light that brings a smile
across your face.
Oh god
if you're out there won't you hear me.
I know we're never talked before
Am I in heaven here or
am I in hell
at the crossroads I am standing.
Hold on
hold on to yourself
for this is gonna hurt like hell.
~Hold On, Sarah McLachlan
So I hold on, in spite of everything, playing the ever-willing victim unnecessarily, when really, I could throw it all to the wolves and run careless and free. Because having nothing to tie me down also entails having nothing to come back to.So I wait.For the one to come along and wash me anew. And bind me with new chains of his own.Because we are, afterall, prisoners of our own choosing.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
I can't remember the last time that we kissed goodbye All our "I love you"s were just not enough to survive Something your eyes never told me But it's only now too plain to see Brilliant disguise when you hold me And I'm free I've been thinking and here's what I've come to conclude Sometimes the distance is more than two people can use But how could I have known girl It was time and not space you would need Darling tonight I could hold you and you would know But would you believe There's a light in your eyes that I used to see There's a place in your heart where I used to be Was I wrong to assume that you were waiting for me There's a light in your eyes Did you leave that light burning for me Cards and phone calls and photograph pictures of you Constant reminder of all the things you get used to Is there a chance in hell or heaven That there's still something here to build on Or do you just pick up the pieces after they fall But after all There's a light in your eyes that I used to see And a song in the words that you spoke to me Was I wrong to believe in your melody There's a light in your eyes Did you leave that light burning for me Should I keep on waiting or does love keep on fading away Fading away It's been a while since I've seen you so how have you been Did you get my letter I wrote you, but I did not send I tried to call your old number But the voice that I heard on the phone I recognized but she told me the number was wrong There's a light in my eyes but it's too bright to see And a pain in my heart where you used to be Guess I was wrong to assume that you were waiting here for me There's a light in your eyes Did you leave that light burning for me~ Light In Your Eyes, Blessed Union of SoulOuch. Such beauty and poetry. I love finding old gems from the past. And finally being able to relate to that shit. When ages ago, all I could do was sympathise. Now I empathise.Maybe I need to move on from Stage 2 of the process. Cynicism and bitterness worked. But that was then. The challenge now is to find the balance. Not to throw caution into the wind and go 'Fuck this shit, I'm moving on because I can do better and I will', but to walk on with my head held high and my dignity intact, saying 'I've been to hell and back'.Sometimes the love that you lose is the love you findSometimes the pain is the doorway to peace of mindNo matter how hard you try you just can't rewindNow that you know - where do you go?I guess in my own wayJust like the her I'm wandering, wondering runawayBut aren't we all justLooking for a place to landLooking for a friend to callLooking for a destination, conversation, fascinationTo protect us from the fallLooking for the one to loveLooking for a brand new dayLooking for a reason to standLooking for a place to land~ Looking for a Place to Land, Dakota MoonLet my inner peace find me.
And it takes some work to make it workIt takes some good to make it hurtIt takes some bad for satisfactionIt takes some cold to know the sunIt takes the one to have the otherAnd it takes no time to fall in love,But it takes you years to know what love isAnd it takes some fears to make you trustIt takes those tears to make it rustIt takes the dust to have it polished, yeahIt takes some silence to make soundAnd it takes a loss before you've found itIt takes a road to go nowhereIt takes a toll to make you careIt takes a hole to make a mountainAh la la la la la la life is wonderfulAh la la la la la la life is full circleAh la la la la la la life is wonderfulAh la la la la la la life is meaningfulAh la la la la la la life is wonderfulAh la la la la la la~ Life is Wonderful, Jason MrazRemember this. And maybe I'll find my peace?
Monday, August 04, 2008
I just want to throw in the towel and exclaim 'Take me. Just do whatever the hell you want. I'm too tired to keep this up anymore.' This facade.This pretence. This game. You say it's not a game, but it is.I can't go on wanting to maintain my virtuous thoughts when inside I feel like a fucking cesspool of falsity and excessiveness of nothingness.Let me just be base. I grow. I prosper;Now, gods, stand up for bastards!I finally understand the allure of debauchery. I thought I'd put it behind me. But no, baseness is never far from one's stead. It's always a step ahead of you."Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead."- William Shakespeare, King Lear, 4.7.46
Saturday, August 02, 2008
I feel it in my bones. I think it's over.Leave no time to mope and mourn. Merely roll over, and start anew.Ouch. So simple.Yet so hard.I had it coming.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Daphne is not one to self-destruct. It's just not in her nature. She may spiral downwards for a period of time in self-loathing and guilt. And possibly hoping something would come along and unmake her. But she's a tough bird. She forges on amidst the scars and wreckage. In spite of the fact that she doesn't want to. But she does it anyway. She trudges on in self-pity, wretchedness and misery, and the thought of unmaking the entire mess by some vile, underhanded means, be it by her own hand, or someone else, will permeate her thoughts endlessly, like an earworm that won't go away. But by her very nature, she will not capitulate. And lives each day as it comes, miserable, but never really showing it. Hoping for that ray of light to finally shine on her, or that crack of the lighting which will end it all.'She's a tough one.'
Sunday, July 20, 2008
I guess this time I really have to say I don't know anything anymore. It's true, you can try as hard as you can to be master and commander of your own fate, but really, there's only so much you can do. No man is an island. So similarly, you can't make your own decisions without any outside influence.I really should get down to learning my lines hey? I need a place of refuge. A place I can be totally relaxed in and be able to focus and concentrate and not worry about being distracted by people or thoughts. I can't find it. My entire house is a distraction. Singapore is a distraction. I can't even go to the fucking beach because it's teeming with families and tourists and schoolkids.I guess my shower will have to do. On that note, I'm going to shower now. Sigh. My 10mins of solace.
Oh that this too too solid flesh would melt.
On top of that, I have been bad. I guess one would call this retribution. I pray to God karma doesn't come round and bite me in the ass. Or maybe it's already come round and this is it. I'm just not consciously aware of it.
I've been a bad bad girl. I've been careless with a delicate man. And it's a sad sad world.
All I need is a good defence cuz I'm feeling like a criminal.
And it's back to deciding what to do with what's left of today. And the days to come.
Oh what are we going to do with the rest of our lives?
Friday, July 11, 2008
10 June 1416hrsHow can you possibly cultivate graciousness and the arts in a society where the leaders blatently talk about encouraging the arts, but all they do is scheme up wretched well-thought out and well-defended machinations to fleece the underlings of its very people. How can your artistes be able-minded and have a peace of mind and focus on creating art for the country and its people when all their sweat, tears and effort is rewarded with a disgustingly revolting pittance and they're constantly being exploited, instead of being looked after and encouraged?When you feel like you put in your heart and soul yet no one thanks you and everyone is out to undercut you, where do you draw energy to fuel your creative mind when your spirit is sucked low and you feel like a soldier in the trenches of No Man's Land.It's a tough industry, but no one's making it any easier. Au contrare, every bleeding person is making it a thousand times harder.If Singapore is to really survive and thrive in the long run, they need to start changing people's mindsets. You do not build up a stable society by teaching your people undercutting everyone else is the best way to the top.A country is not made up of individuals, but a united people from all walks of life working hand in hand. Blowing out your neighbour's candle doesn't render yours any brighter.And you call me a westernised potato who's turned her back on her country? At least I have the sensibility to see things our fearless leaders don't. Or maybe they simply choose to overlook it. Afterall, money got Singapore this far. Let's see how much further it's going to take us, when everyone starts slitting their neighbour's throat for the gold coins.Say I'm thankless, but whilst I appreciate the tolerance, safety, cleanliness, efficiency, I am deeply dissatisfied. I am not an economist. I am an artiste. A sensitive soul. I cannot find peace when I see ugliness around me. Ugliness cloaked in cash surpluses and the clinical smell of money. This ugliness pervades the air and permeates everything we do.Money is dirty. Literally. You don't know how many times it's changed hands, and where those hands have been. Literally. And metaphorically.I struggle to find myself here. I struggle to find a helpful friend here. I struggle to find a friendly face here. I struggle to find my inner peace when the stench of money lingers on me and my clothes. I struggle to see my worth in this society when everything is measured in dollars and cents. I struggle to find my place in the world which is made up of so much more than what we are exposed to here. Let down your walls people. Stop blocking and start embracing. So what if your neighbour's better off. Some people are just luckier than others. Maybe if you looked elsewhere in your life you'll find the satisfaction you lack. Positivity engenders positivity. The wheel comes full circle. (1437hrs)
Thursday, July 10, 2008
June 7 0810hrsIt is the hope that kills me. The existence of this hope extinguishes my determination to forge on as a stronghold.June 9 1736hrs
Is he the sky? My ever unattainable sky?We were both the sea. Are we still the same blue?Once I soared in the sky with the wind beneath my wings, lifting me up, making me soar. Then the wind died. And I plummeted back into the sea. Washed ashore.So what is he now? I grapple with myself. My evasive, deceiving self.Can we ever be on the same plane? We use to both traverse in the same direction, albeit on different planes. Where are we now?How much longer can I bear this? Does it all exist only in my head? Remember Greg's theory, Daph, remember it. (Now, transcribing this down 8hrs later, I've forgotten what I was referring to by 'Greg's theory'. Great.)I have worked out a solution for my plight. The best compromise is to be a lesbian. Yeap, a lesbo. The benefits (whatever I can get my hands on) of having a partner yet none of that emotional vulnerability.There is no way in hell I would ever be as vulnerable to a woman as I would a man. A woman could never hurt me as deep. Simply because my genes don't react the same way. It's not her, it's me. Hence, the best alternative, be a lesbo.Good and Kind. In kind.Left to her own devices, this girl would either float as high a a helium balloon on a clear day and pop in the atmosphere, or engage in a downward spiral of destructive thoughts. Or both actually. Simultaneously.For things to be as clear as the clearest sky. Oh bliss.[ Random Not-Necessarily-Accurate-Shakespearean-Quotes ]'Once more, my dear friends.''Oh that this too too solid flesh would melt.''What a piece of work is man.''The readiness is all.' But is it? What does it take for one to be truly ready? Tell me. I need to know.I used to think too much.I still do.On top of that, now,I feel too much.What a piece of work is man.But I cannot give away my Rumpelstiltskin, my secret name. I must regain control. Empower yourself Daph. (1755hrs)
I don't get men. I don't. I don't get it. Why do they still flirt and act all interested when they already have partners? Their girlfriends and wives. For fuck's sake. Am I purely game to them? Should I don on some fur and get on all fours and start prancing around the bushes and nibble on leaves? I am so disappointed right now. With men. With the arts. With the government. With the obscene amount of construction going on on this tiny tiny miniscule island. With life. With myself. With my inability to get my fucking act together.Is this Let's-fuck-with-Daph's-head year? They should just make my life into a PSP game. The more you disappoint me; the more you build me up only to let me down; the more you fuck me over, the more points you get. And the winner gets to dump pigs blood that's gone off on me from a ceiling rafter.Right now I just want to crawl into a hole somewhere in the Andes and yodel. Let no one hear me but my soul. Life shouldn't have to be so fucked up. But it is. Don't fucking throw me a line only for it to emerge as a red fucking herring.I'm so disgruntled nowadays. I can't be positive anymore. When left to my own devices, I plunge into a dark pool of sad bad negative depressing thoughts. I feel so wretched I rarely have an appetite anymore. Let me just survive on my soy lattes.I just want to wall myself up and die. No, that's too bleak. Let me change it to: I just want to hole myself up and disappear. Yes, that's better. 'Dissipate into nothingness'. HA. I remember that. Yes, let me just crawl into a hole and dissipate into one of those wall paintings. Let future archeologists puzzle over me. Least I'd have contributed something to mankind.I don't mean to male bash, but if you're not fucking available, then fuck off and leave me alone. Don't act all interested and flirt your bloody follicles off and make me happy and feel like there's hope in life and maybe I'm not on the top 10 list of the world's most wretched people, only to pull a fucking Hiroshima on me and leave me as desolate as the Sahara. Thus rendering me 5 notches further up the top 10 list of the world's most wretched people. I think I need to just go somewhere where no one knows me and I know no one and no one will possibly bother me, and just melt into the crowd. I think a gay bar would be the perfect place. In Europe. Mmmmmmm..."If I should be so bold I’d ask you to hold my heart in your hand Tell you from the start how I’ve longed to be your man But I never said I would I guess I’m gonna miss my chance again All I really wanna do is love you A kind much closer than friends use But I still can’t say it after all we’ve been through And all I really want from you is to feel me As the feeling inside keeps building And I will find a way to you if it kills me If it kills me If it kills me I think it might kill me"
- 'If It Kills me', Jason Mraz"Well you done done me and you bet I felt it I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted I fell right through the cracks And now I'm trying to get back Before the cool done run out I'll be giving it my bestest Nothing's going to stop me but divine intervention I reckon it's again my turn to win some or learn some So I won't hesitate no more, no more It cannot wait I'm sure There's no need to complicate Our time is short This is our fate, I'm yours"- 'I'm Yours', Jason MrazLately, everything seems to speak to me. I'm getting too soft. I need to harden the fuck up.
Monday, July 07, 2008
It's all really so simple and so true.'Then she cries and I love her even more.
I love her so much I think my heart will break.'
- Somewhere Between The Sky And The Sea
And my poor heart falls into a thousand slivers.
It is the hope that kills me. The existence of this hope extinguishes my determination to forge on as a stronghold independent of anything.
Friday, July 04, 2008
Why am I so meek? Why do I put myself in situations where I feel awkward, and know not what to do? Why do I never grab the bull by the balls except when it doesn't matter? Let me be a girl for a moment, and since noone will listen to me whinge, let me indulge in a bit of online catharsis. I feel so totally stagnant. I need to get out of this abyss. I don't know where I'm going to get the funds from. I have no idea how I'm going to sustain myself if I forge through with this idea. The people here are dead. Things here possess a form I am not akin to. Yes, I AM Singaporean. Problem is, I don't feel Singaporean. How the fuck can I help it? What the fuck can I do? When I feel my friends judge me and I am incensed for the way I think, act and react, how can I trudge on here and keep taking all that bullshit? Don't preach at me. You have your mantra, I have mine. Don't tell me your philosophy. At the risk of sounding rude, I don't fucking care. I don't care that you think family is number 1. I don't care that not everyone is as lucky as I am. To be candid, shit happens. Some people have it lucky, some don't. Hate me for being one of the former. But don't tell me what you think I should do. If I have the opportunity to do whatever the hell I want to, then why the hell not? If you've got it, flaunt it, as Ulla says.Oh my God, I hate everything and everyone right now. Even you, the internet. I can't be bothered to write anymore. This is stupid, inane, and pointless. And definitely angsty. Fuck.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
boys you can break you find out how much they can take boys will be strong and boys soldier on- daughters, john mayer(stolen from Dong)Well you done done me and you bet I felt it I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted I fell right through the cracks and now I'm trying to get back Before the cool done run out I'll be giving it my bestest Nothing's going to stop me but divine intervention I reckon it's again my turn to win some or learn some So I won't hesitate no more, no more It cannot wait I'm sure There's no need to complicate Our time is short This is our fate, I'm yours
- I'm Yours, Jason Mraz
Funny how sometimes things just gesticulate to you and leave you to speculate. Nothing seems right and then suddenly you still don't know if it's right, but it seems like some unseen force is pointing to the distance; and you can't see the hand, but you feel the presence of the hand right next to your face.Or maybe you just believe what you want to believe. You think what you choose to think. The signs are all there; both for and against. It's which you choose to believe.At the end of the day, as Levin says, faith is believing that the sky is infinite and there exists an infinity beyond that vault of blue, despite what your eyes tell you.Oh maybe I'm just deceiving myself. It is very easy to be a pollyanna.Yeah, I think I should just chill.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
The deed is done. There is no turning back now. I have paid a huge ass sum of money (well, my Dad has) and I cannot retrace my steps now.'I cannot be soft. I have my destiny to live out.'It will have to take more than a brand new snazzy sports car to buy my destiny. My feet are burning and know not where to run. But still, I must take off and do what I feel needs to be done. I may be wrong. But at least I'll find out the hard way, rather than sitting on my ass lamenting. My will is strong. I will not let it be snuffed out like a candle in the cold night. As Anna Karenina felt a compelling force gather her thoughts and render her inevitably under the train wheels, so I feel the same force within me, compelling me to throw myself into the wild and fight it out there. The ship is safe in the harbour but it doesn't belong there.I must brave the winds and face adversity. I feel it in the pits of my soul. This is what I was meant to do. I cannot live out my life in utter complacency. How will I find enough money to sustain myself? Will I be able to live from hand to mouth? I believe I can. This comfortable cushion I have in Singapore; it stifles me. Maybe I am too lucky. If that be so, let me count my blessings by taking them into perspective, from a perspective outside of my own. I would rather return a battered finch than live out the golden gilded captivity with my comfy velvet cushions. Let me fly with the beautiful rosellas, and soar. I need to know how far I can climb before I plummet under the pressure. If some silly pig-faced girl in some silly chick flick can do it, why can't I? I see that as a sign. I never watch chick flicks. But I did today, by fluke. And that girl did exactly what I an scared to do. So what if I haven't got all this experience under my belt? So what if I'm still green-ish? So what if I know jackshit about what's out there? So what if I have no idea how I'm going to survive? So what if I have no idea where I'm going to stay? So what if I have no idea what I'm going to do for money? I have the will, and I have my destiny. As Mark Wilson once said 'She's a tough one.' And I know I have it in me to tide it through and fight it out and eke out something of my own. Something I can be proud of. Something truly and utterly mine. For once, it'll be something I wanted to do. Something I took full responsibility of and called the shots with. It will live and thrive in my heart and my spirit, nourishing and inspiring my thoughts and work. It will live and breathe within me. And I then can say I have the right to inspire the people around me. I am nothing without this experience and fire under my wings, nourishing me.So, doubt and uncertainty, begone. I am worthy of grander things. I just need to dive into the deep end, and trust that my instincts will keep me afloat. Or that there will be come floats nearby. Either way, it will be worthwhile in the end. I know it. I can just feel it in my bones!Seek, and you shall find.Amen.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
This dire need for some sort of reciprocation; Go on, cast the ball back my way. This dire thirst for... whatever it is, will be the death of me.To be complete within oneself. Seems easier said than done eh?And the constellations spiral out of orbit, each deflecting into its own eternal hell within an unforgiving vacuum. Tender yet impartially cruel.I no longer know what I want anymore. Frivolous fancies occupy my thoughts, yet practicality binds me down. I guess you can't have the best of both worlds, can you? Best to put on blinkers and trudge straight down.No on but me will be the death of me.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
Late night taxi ride epiphany: I will come back to Singapore when I'm sick of the world. But for now, the world beckons.I just need to find the money. And the courage to bash ahead.
And ironically, it takes my heartless unsentimental callous brother to draw attention to this song.
There's a part in me you'll never know The only thing I'll never show It's plain to see it's trying to speak cherished dreams forever asleep Hopelessly I'll love you endlessly Hopelessly I'll give you everything But I won't give you up I won't let you down And I won't leave you fallingIf the moment ever comesI think deep down, we're all hopeless romantics. Some are just more prone than others. And I belong to the former. For shame. Muse sings about the end of the world. And being so hopelessly in love. Ha.
"Then we should find some artificial inoculation against love, as with smallpox." - Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
Aye.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
I think I won't trust anyone or anything anymore from now on. That's the way to go, I reckon. It's safe, it's foolproof. I'm just going to lie back, chill out, and read Anna Karenina. It's not as easy industry, this one. What have I gotten myself into? To toil like that for years to come? I don't know if I can handle this. We'll see, we'll see.
Friday, May 23, 2008
I am just about ready to behead the next inefficient person who steps into my way.It's official: I hate production managing.Correction: I hate production managing with inefficient people. Singaporeans are too narrow-minded and just plain stupid sometimes. Which equals to inefficiency. When you pay peanuts, you get monkeys. When you pay a Singaporean peanuts, you get fucked over. Yah. Unless some idiot by the name of Daphne Quah does the job for free cuz she's such a doof.Daphne Quah is........ her current mental state of mind would be..... frazzled. Yes. As frazzled as a fried fish who was skewered and fried on a spit while still alive. Yes. Sounds apt. Slightly dramatic, but apt.No more whinging. Need to do something. It's difficult when you're in theatre. You can't go out and embark on a project on your own. You need a company, a play, a cast, a crew, a team. It's not like corporate work. So why do I feel so unsatiated? What do I want with my life?Listening to Muse brings back memories. Bittersweet memories. Why?Why must something so beautiful and awesome be tainted with something so... bittersweet? I can never listen to Muse, Dave Matthews Band, Amy Winehouse, Ben Harper, the Killers, Kate Miller-Heidke, Massive Attack's 'Mezzanine', The Kinks, New Young Pony Club and Matchbox20 without some subconscious memories etching through my being. Sad. Tis life. Time will cover the dredges. Only to be unearthed again down the line. What's the point? Might as well crash and burn. Life's a bitch and then you die. No. I won't do this again. I've been through this. I'm over it... right?Someone throw me a line.... Hook, line and sinker...
'You could be my unintended Choice to live my life extended You could be the one I'll always love You could be the one who listens to my deepest inquisitions You could be the one I'll always love I'll be there as soon as I can But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before'Ah.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
I can't do this anymore.Rather,I don't want to do this anymore.What's the difference anyway? I just can't. I'm losing myself. I can literally feel myself draining away.
Take me back.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Okie, So, tkng the advicw of ShmINE, from like ges afo,) I a,m bloggoing while piaaased. Fun. Well, I think i know what the hell I'm saying, but CLEARLY my pmputer doesn't agree. ahahahah I haven't had anlot. only two alves of a vodka sprite and 2 1/2 mojitoes. nie........................ I like. and a qlk to the 2ns hearest ATM inbetween, cuz the nerest atn wasn't working. Th fuck. well. I write wel.COnsiderng I'm sorta drunj. I dunno. Am i? I reckon If i REALLY wanted to, could write a VERY sober post. but really, whohas th time and ener gy to cre> I'll write whayever the shit I want, whever will read it, and it will be history. End of story. Noone qill cRE. Noone ever cares. Ha. Drunken tLE. FUNy ass. Seth was funnier ahehehehhehe He was SO pissed. FUNY ASS. OKIE. End of story. I will read this tomrrp nd see hw sober I was ahhah Nite! I liem being tipiisy and s;oighlu incohrent. I like. nice. mmm
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
I think, I need a shag. A shag will set everything straight and proper. Yes. A good shag always makes everything right. Nothing like a good shag. *nods affirmatively in all seriousness*
Monday, May 05, 2008
Maybe if I could just get away from it all.I feel like a stranger to the familiar things.I feel disaffected. There's too much cynicism happening. A healthy dose of cynicism keeps one's head in check. But seriously, this, this is just ridiculous.I don't know anything anymore.I'm not sure of anything anymore.Why do we have to prove ourselves to the world? What exactly are we living for? I feel this rift ever so slowly getting bigger and bigger. Can it be reconciled? Will it be wrong of me to give up? Makes no difference to me anyway. I'll still go on doing what I do.I have to keep my positivity afloat, and what if the people around me are dragging it down? What do I do? Do I abandon ship to save myself? Or do I stick it in there and risk having the positivity sucked out of me? Which is right? Somehow selflessness sometimes isn't the best option.When does self-control become self-preservation?And when does self-preservation become self-centredness?And when does it all become fatalism?
I'm so mentally fatigued. I can't fight this struggle anymore. It's me against whatever there is all out there.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Daphne Quah Goes On Holiday
The ego is going on holiday. Daphne Quah's self-esteem has hit a new low. 4 rejections in 2 months. She simply cannot go on doing this. Hitting brick wall after brick wall. She should have seen it coming. She saw the first one coming. She was in denial. Then she accepted it and moved on. But somehow, the destruction of the first one created this monster within her. This monster that caused the subsequent next 3 dead ends.This pollyanna monster who somehow believed that man was intrinsically good and that she could believe everything a man tells her. Wrong. This monster has caused her to be left high and dry, and when she should have quit while she was ahead, she kept going back and subsequently ended up with her bum on the grounded and the rug pulled out from under her, and still no shag. This monster has placed rose-tinted glasses on her nose, through which she now sees the world and even though she knows it's there, she cannot, for the life of her, remove them. In fact, she's forgotten how the world looks like without these glasses. She sees pictures from ye olde days, but they seem strangely familiar yet foreign. It's like you know you've heard a certain song before, but you cannot, for the life of you, recall where you heard it. Daphne, for the life of her, cannot tear herself away from the belief that everyone out there is good and true. She believes everyone and everything. And hopes for the best. And obviously, ends up bitterly disappointed and feeling cheated, as we have established from the opening sentence. She's been played out by 4 men, and she STILL believes they're good and true and she doesn't think they're wankers. No. Because to Daphne, people are intrinsically good. And these men had absolutely no intention of leading her just so she could be another notch on the belt for them. She still wants to be their friend and still thinks highly of each and every one of them. Why don't we learn? Just because you found a glimmer of hope doesn't mean that everywhere you go from now on, that same glimmer of hope will permeate everything and everyone around you. We need to knock some sense into you before you scar yourself permanently and end up even more bitter and cynical than you were before.All dressed up and nowhere to go : (Noun) Daphne.Someone torch that stupid stick before it claims another victim.Why are women such dumb, vile, hopeful creatures? Why do we have such great big hearts which we willingly let people trample on and smile politely as they wipe their filthy feet on our doormats as they leave the mess which used to be our heart behind?
Monday, April 21, 2008
So my blog is officially emo. According to Maine. ehehehI've always prided myself on my razor sharp gut instinct. But it's been failing me of late. Why?I eat too much I drink too much I want too much Too much
- Too Much, Dave Matthews BandAnd I think too much.Ironic how you build up a wall to protect yourself, yet you've left your back gate totally open and you're being hit unawares and have no recourse to action.I trust too much.That's my hamartia. People aren't intrinsically good Daphne. When will you learn?I've become even more skeptical than I once was. How is that possible? And to think I'm trying to build on my positivity now. Ha, the irony. I guess I'll never learn. I'll stay bait after bait after bait. Manipulation after manipulation after manipulation. Thinking I know better but really, I don't.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Seemingly like a scene out of a movie about the end of the world. That was today. It was unreal. I loved it. They wind is still going. Watching it from the comfort within a school hall, through the glass doors, seeing the branches bend and almost feeling them creek from yards away; seeing the dust and sand dance their waltz in the schoolyard; watching the magpies stranded and confused; seeing the branches and leaves strewn across the ground, being swept away and countless more replacing their positions on the ground. If there ever was a scene of beautiful utter desolation retaining that bit of hope in it, this was it.A whole village without power for hours. And driving home with the lights all not working. Seeing the lampposts and traffic lights shiver ever so vehemently in the wind. Firemen restoring fallen fly-away boards. Mountains of sand found eons away from the sea in people's porches. Driving to the beach, watching the sky and hearing the wind against the body of my car. The sky wasn't even an overcast grey. It was the colour of sludgy mud. It was beautifully poetic. That sense of decay and desolation in the sky, looming overhead, all over and around me, inescapable, was strangely liberating. Regardless of where you go and where you look, it's all over you like a black rotting carcass in the desert covered with flies, til you go nearer and the flies flit away, and you realise the carcass is fresh and red, and all the black you saw was the blanket of flies. It almost seemed like the heavens were saying 'We're angry and we're disgusting and it's all your fault, and it's payback time.' Made me feel more excusable for being a shitty human being. I feel as if there, amongst that muddy sky, lurking somewhere in those airy depths, there lay the hidden connection between the larger cosmos and me. Being caught in the middle of the petulant sultry gale made me feel safe and strangely excitably on the edge of my seat, like my hand was being held by an old trusted friend and we were about to embark on the world's scariest ride. The element of danger in the air, the chaos surrounding me gave me a sense of security. Because I know, in spite of it all, we are all part of the elements, and sometimes, humans cause more harm unwittingly than the elements do. And maybe, just maybe, it's that thrill of living on the edge, among the danger, that keeps that flame burning. That fans it and feeds it ever so rarely. Danger. That's what it is. In life, and in theatre as well. That's what keeps us on our toes and on the edge of our seats. This dance with danger, the unknown, the risk, the stakes.Air. My element.Water. My sign.And a walk down memory lane.I couldn't resist it. I just had to. There would never have been a better time than today, amidst the turbulent winds and inhuman amount of sand blown into my eye. Tramonto. Ah beautiful memories. Things change. Circumstances change. People change. Feelings change. But the history, that stays. Within these buildings of change. The ghost of us continues to live within the walls. And no one will ever know. Except us, and those silent creaking walls. To be able to look in, when I used to always only be able to gaze out through the impaired glass. My heart aches a thousand times through. But I feel it no longer. I feel it yet at the same time I don't. This paradox haunts me.I'm feeling strangely settled and unsettled at the same time by the natural disturbances occurring round me. This tingling in the air; under my skin. The air around me, whirling. The water that is me, churning. And the fire within me, burning. Feeding the passion within me, yearning.These talks don't do me any good. They merely stir up the embers within me, creating yet another spark and crackle or two. Let sleeping dogs lie, I say. Tonight, my bedmate will be the whistling of sweet rustles and innumerable ghost whisperers in my ear. While I lay alone in bed, snug, yet cold at the same time. Protected, yet vulnerable. Wise, yet childlike. Dejected, yet hopeful.Oh my heart cracks. But what is another lash of the whip on a bloody back that has been torn to shreds?The cracks on the vase are so numerous that another one makes no difference. Besides, it has been stuck back and glued together, no amount of cracks will make it fall apart. Unless it is dropped. But this vase has been locked in a glass cabinet, and the key lost. A hole has been cut into the side of the cabinet; you may reach in and grab the vase, stroke it, caress it, flick it, even squeeze it. But it stays firm. And the hole is big enough for your hand to go in, but too small for the vase to be taken out.I will not be a Philip Larkin.I will not live the toadwork.I will not be the Charge of the Light Brigade.I may not be the Ship Song.I don't believe in Instant Pleasure.I refuse to be my own quicksand.I will not let you be my quicksand.I do not set your soul alight. No. Not anymore. I am a stag:of seven tines,
I am a flood:across a plain,
I am a wind:on a deep lake,
I am a tear:the Sun lets fall,
I am a hawk:above the cliff,
I am a thorn:beneath the nail,
I am a wonder:among flowers,
I am a wizard:who but I
Sets the cool head aflame with smoke? I am a spear:that roars for blood,
I am a salmon:in a pool,
I am a lure:from paradise,
I am a hill:where poets walk,
I am a boar:ruthless and red,
I am a breaker:threatening doom,
I am a tide:that drags to death,
I am an infant:who but I
Peeps from the unhewn dolmen arch? I am the womb:of every holt,
I am the blaze:on every hill,
I am the queen:of every hive,
I am the shield:for every head,
I am the tomb:of every hope. ~ Robert Graves
Monday, March 31, 2008
The human being is such an amazing creature.And...That is all I have to say.I think that, in itself, will suffice.I amaze myself.I never cease to surprise myself with the fodder that's churned out from within the deep dark recesses of the electrical labyrinth of synapses that sits above my neck, safe in its own little cocoon. The heart, is purely metaphysical. Because the heart really sits within the head. There's your conundrum.Any moment now, I am ready for that whiplash to hit me. To render me out of sorts. To strike me back to square one. To pull the rug out from under to. To sneak up on me when I'm riding high and feeling utterly invincible. That is when it will hit me. Why is this cynicism so? Because cynicism is what keeps us living and breathing. It is the protective shell of a lab coat. So impotent, yet so important.Any moment now. I'm waiting. And ready.Yet each passing moment whereby nothing happens renders me more and more complacent.Ahhhh.. life. Such a paradox.Such a wonder. Such a pickle.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
I think... I think I could be starting to rejoice once again. Let Love in.As she glanced back for another look at the perils she'd traversed, she glimpsed the faint footprints being washed away by the ebbing sea; Now, faint. Swirling pools of water and sand. Now, a smooth pristine glimmering surface, unfazed. Now, pure and untouched, as if no one had ever been there. All traces removed. No one will ever know, save for her and the agents responsible. The calming element of the sea. Which can erode the seemingly impossible. Or suffocate one.And bearing a faint wry smile, she walked on, away from the deceiving virgin shore of stillness and motion. And as she walked on, her footprints faded after her.The way of the world.So what has changed? Nothing. And everything.
Friday, March 28, 2008
I don't care if monday's bluetuesday's grey and wednesday toothursday I don't care about youit's friday I'm in lovemonday you can hold your headtuesday wednesday stay in bedor thursday watch the walls insteadit's friday I'm in loveWhat a cute song. I don't get it. I probably never will. But either way, I like it. For what it says. For what it stands for. For what it holds.Friday.
Here I come.
Monday, March 24, 2008
I think... I've been missing the point.I always aim so high, so high, without seeing that what I have on hand is inadequate for the mission. I can never see the forest for the trees.Shah's right, I am an over-achiever. Thing is, I need to know when to stop and realise that I haven't got the resources. it's good to be ambitious, but within means. Baby steps Daph, baby steps.
Friday, March 21, 2008
I guess... the past couple of days have told me... that all I need to do is have faith.We'll cross the bridge when we come to it. And when we do, if we find we're missing vital survival tools, well, we'll deal with it then. But right now, Right Now,Faith is what we need. To believe, and trust, in spite of the Want. Faith.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
I don't know anything anymore.As I stand by the sink, the realisation of the overwhelming amount of stuff I have to throwaway/chuck by the roadside to be removed to goodness-knows-where and incinerated/dumped into a landfill; pack into a labelled box to be carted into a container and shipped across thousand of miles into a tiny room on the first floor of 57B Lorong Marzuki: my life for the past 4 years. Reduced to thus. I cannot pretend I am happy to go home to Singapore. But... where is Home anymore? I feel like a chained stranger in my own home in Singapore. Yet in Melbourne I feel like a freebound groundless refugee.Do I have what it takes to endure the next year? Will I forget my fighting spirit? Will I lose myself and be hauled into the dregs of the business? I fear for my spirit. Everyday is a struggle. Every night, a resistance to sleep, for it means I've lost yet another day. When will this struggle against finding my purpose cease? I need peace. Peace that I cannot find, not here in Melbourne, and definitely not in Singapore. Give me release Witness me I am outside Give me peace Heaven holds a sense of wonder And I wanted to believe That I'd get caught up When the rage in me subsides In this white wave I am sinking In this silence In this white wave In this silence I believe Passion chokes the flower Till she cries no more Possesing all the beauty Hungry still for more I can't help this loning Comfort me I can't hold it all in If you won't let me ~ Broken Down Palace'And fate has led you through itYou do what you have to do ...And I have the sense to recognize thatI don't know how to let you goEvery moment markedWith apparitions of your soulI'm ever swiftly movingTrying to escape this desireThe yearning to be near youI do what I have to doThe yearning to be near youI do what I have to doBut I have the sense to recognizeThat I don't know howTo let you goI don't know howTo let you goA glowing emberBurning hotBurning slowDeep within I'm shaken by the violenceOf existing for only youI know I can't be with youI do what I have to doI know I can't be with youI do what I have to doAnd I have sense to recognize butI don't know how to let you go'
No, I don't. Ha, funny how it took me 3(?) weeks to realise this. But we do what we have to do. What we ought to do. Simply because there's nothing else we can do.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
And....... another one bites the dust.And every time I reach out I get bitten in the ass. Maybe I should really give up. Just sit on my fat ass and sprout mysterious fungi while waiting to be chased. Why? Why throw something my way and tease me, and when I feel the urge to get off my ass and do something to follow through with the action, you fucking throw me a red herring. Why? Tis sport, is it? Well it's not very funny, and it's at my expense; so, no, don't really appreciate it; No.I've had enough. No more proactivity for me. No more initiative coming from this chick. I'm not built to withstand such emotional hurdles. Don't build me up just to watch me crumble down. It's not funny. It's cruel. It's Life.
Realisation of the Day:People don't understand me.It's amazing how quickly people pigeon-hole you. You make your first impression, and bam, suddenly you've got this label on you. Why is it so hard to accept that people have different facets to them?I've had enough of people telling me what I should do and how I should do it. Give me my fucking space. No, I don't care if my laugh is coarse and unrefined sounding to you. I happen to think it reflects my spontaneous out-going personality and makes people gaze in interest at who this energetic girl is who's so unafraid to be herself. Let me fucking be. Who wrote the rules to unspoken social codes anyway? Who doctrined that if a girl contacts a guys, regardless of her intention, she must be interested in him? WHO!!?? Tell me and I'll hunt the bastard down with a pitchfork. Why do I have to conform to secret unspoken societal norms? Can I not be who I am without having a stigma, or a hex, or a price, placed upon my head?Stop judging and placing me in a box. I am a wonder among flowers. I have infinite aspects to my personality. Suck that up.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Everytime you get hurt, you put up a little barrier to prevent yourself from getting hurt the same way again. One day, you realise you've walled yourself in in your little enclave. Bereft of a real touch.
Where's the compromise? The middle ground? How do we solve this contradiction of interests? Can we?
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
What do I want? What do I really want? Suddenly I'm experiencing all these different thoughts. Melbourne does it to you. You start questioning what you want and what you want to do. So many people doing so many things you thought were impossible for you to do, and yet seeing them do it makes you wonder if you're shortchanging yourself. Where do I really really want to be? Suddenly I'm having feelings of wanting to travel. If I had the money and wasn't bogged down, I'd book a flight off to somewhere distant, in a continent I've never been before, and take off the next day. But I can't. Suddenly I don't want to go back to Singapore and take on the theatre scene so much anymore. Suddenly I can't be bothered applying for an Aus PR anymore cuz it's too trying having to arrange the documents and meetings and having to let go of my apartment and car. I just want to up and go somewhere, and clear my mind there before I make all these decisions. I thought I sorted out my thoughts, but I guess all I did was bury it under the barrage of things that floated my way and I suppressed them. They're all starting to resurface now; now that I'm back in Melbourne, independent and free of obligations and shoes to fit in. And having way too much time on my hands. And talking to people who have dreams and know what they want and aren't afraid to just take the leap. I'm too safe.And suddenly, seeing his 'single' status go up just hit me. Like a soft pillow. It wasn't a slap in the face. I knew it was coming but kidded myself into thinking I would be ok. I'm not ok. Neither am I not not-ok. I don't what I am anymore. I guess what I did was the same as what I did with what I want. Bury it all under the rubble. I guess over the next months I'll keep feeling small twinges here and there. Slowly letting it seep out. I think, I've only just come to terms with the fact that it's probably not coming back. No, it won't. Throw away the hope. Hope only fucks people up. Like they say, some days it's more ok than others. I don't hurt acutely and feel the twist anymore. I kept expecting it to be like someone's twisting a knife in me, but I guess the expectation drove it away. It's a dull silent throb hidden deep under all the rubble. Is that more dangerous? I don't know. It's like the Tell-tale Heart. When it's all silent and quiet, and if you listen really really hard; it's there. It's constantly throbbing. But it gets lost amidst the flurry. But when everything subsides, there it is.Maybe this is just one of those mornings where you wake up and question everything and doubt yourself. Nothing gets me excited anymore. Am I turning jaded and cynical, more so than I already was? I don't feel that strong driving force that propels me anymore. The times when I do feel it, it's those big impetuous decisions which I can't justify and am too scared they're just whims, or shadows of fancies and illusions. I think I need to go away alone to somewhere foreign, and find myself and the voice in me. But when? A mere weekend will do me no good. I need more than just a few days to quell this vacuum within me. This vacuum which sucks everything in, yet is empty in itself. Family arrives this week, then three weeks before I leave Melb for a long time, then filming for Claude, then teaching in between the weeks, then Fast & Fresh, then Short & Sweet. And back to more teaching? I just want to up and go. But obligations and responsibilities...Melbourne allows for time to think; to reflect; to ponder on what I want; who I am; where I am; where I want to go. Too much time in fact. Everything is so... fluster-ful in Singapore. No time and space to think or reflect. You just go from one thing to the next. From one thought propelled into the next. Where is my common ground?Where is my purpose. What am I doing?I need a little timeTo think it overI need a little spaceJust on my ownI need a little timeTo find my freedomI need a little...Funny how quick the milk turns sourIsn't it, isn't itYour face has been looking like that for hoursHasn't it, hasn't itPromises, promises turn to dustWedding bells just turn to rustTrust into mistrustI need a little roomTo find myselfI need a little spaceTo work it outI need a little roomAll aloneI need a little...You need a little room for your big headDon't you, don't youYou need a little space for a thousand bedsWon't you, won't youLips that promise - fear the worstTongue so sharp - the bubble burstJust into unjustI've had a little timeTo find the truthNow I've had a little roomTo check what's wrongI've had a little timeAnd I still love youI've had a little...You had a little timeAnd you had a little funDidn't you, didn't youWhile you had yoursDo you think I had noneDo you, do youThe freedom that you wanted badIs yours for goodI hope you're gladSad into unsadI had a little timeTo think it overHad a little roomTo work it outI found a little courageTo call it offI've had a little time ~ 'I Need a Little Time', Beautiful SouthFunny how I've had this song for a while but never really paid any attention to the lyrics. It's so apt, so so apt. It really applies to every aspect of my life right now. Every. But, Time is something I don't have.And now I shed the first tears of recognition since the milk turned sour. Let's hope I live up to what the girl sings in this song. And may the expectations of the boy's part die as I live out the girl's part.
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