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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.
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