I’m nearly with you.

Its been awhile since I listened to the studio version of Destiny by Zero 7 and boy, do I miss it.

I think it changed my life trajectory from the first time I heard it on Power 98 back in secondary school – or was it during college? It was a late night show that featured acoustic rock (or something like that) and it was, well, damn power.

I think that a portal for what I’d call, tributary music (since it aint mainsteam), was generated from that moment on.

Grin.

I shall veer off from Queen for awhile and go back to gentle, pulsating rhythms polished by a female Australian accent with generous slurs.

Sententious picture of the day.

Breathe me.

In great distress.

I dont believe this.

My left earhole has closed.

I barely took out the stud for a couple of days to let the plasma flow out fluidly at great speeds more comfortably (because of some weirdass infection), and I get a healed hole – in its whole.

And when I tried to nudge a stud back in, it was promptly rejected. The area feels sore from too much jabbing. Never force a stud into a happily closed ear hole. H’urts. :(

AAARRRGGGGHH!!

Now I have to get it re-pierced again. Shudder.

Or maybe I should try forcing the stud back in again later.

-

In other news, I had the worst ever multiple choice test ever. 

My heart just kept sinking lower and lower as I went through the questions.

ARGH.

Guess who!

Guess who came down to da land of neverending summer two weeks ago!

My homie, da roomie! :)

We hung out, had a ball of a time, and ate up a storm.

And on her last night, Marcus flew back in time to meet her as well. Awesome shitz.

Aww. Just like the good ol’ days. I sigh.

And Janice came along too! Woohoo. Nice hairband, btw. Heh. :)

/Edit. Zomg I realised what a horrendous picture this is. My arm looks severely distorted. :(

Snuffin’ that crack.

Ooh.

Roomie & I.

I absolutely loved living with her, y’know.

Let’s see if I have enough to go visit in Toronto.

-

School’s stressing me out, I’m addicted to youtube, I suddenly have a great love for a brunei export and also boxing kangaroos; and as I’m typing this, I’m simultaneously having a great time listening to old school rock favs, Queen. :)

I Heard You Singing.

Because of Jimmy Gnecco, the band Ours is definitely one of my favourites.

Besides Jeff Buckley, bless his memory, Gnecco, in my humble opinion, sings the most powerfully; with his awesome voice that just bleeds raw emotion.

As of now, I reckon no one else can equal his voice that’s so.. bare, stripped, vulnerable, emotive, and ah, oh so singular.

Its the kind of scene you’d imagine when you listen – dark room, a spotlight shining on his tousled dark head of hair, strumming a guitar, face twisted in half pain, half vulnerablity, and sitting leaning forward on his stool. And you’d just be unable to keep tears from falling from your eyes because you feel it.

Deep sigh.

And that’s all for now.

-

Hui’s house tomorrow! VSL RGSM alert! HHH!

:)

I have an Alien Friend.

Hi. It may scare you to know that I’m friends with a self-confessed alien.

He stuns us all by saying things like.

“It is an alien invasion; led by me their chief robot.”

“I can generate a portal by eating both of you up.”

(That was such a classic line. I started laughing to myself in the bus on the way back.)

And in more everyday scenarios -

“Pencil lead isn’t really lead. It is graphite.”

-

Cher and I couldn’t decide if we should be more terrified or tickled.

Dreams That Breathe Your Name.

You probably dont know it babe, but you were timely :)

And thank you for enduring my supermassive crazy hunting session for Elysian Fields cds. The company and shopping was awesome.

I can’t believe HMV, Gramophone and Borders dont keep stock of their cds. WHY??

And so, because I was so desperate, I ordered one of their cds from HMV. It’s going to be most expensive cd that I’ve ever paid for, and greatly surpassing many pieces of clothing that I own. And that cd, Dreams that Breathe Your Name, is one of Elysian Fields cheaper ones already. Gulp.

That’s it. I will just starve and drink $1 coffee and/or survive on milo vans everyday.

-

Oh yes. February Nineteenth, the day that Phantom Punch was supposed to have been released, has come and gone.

And after waiting for months and months, and although I’ve indeed managed to download more than half of the tracks on the cd, I am still mighty glad to finally have Sondre’s latest rock-popcorn pop album in my hands and ears. YESSSSS.

It is AWSMZ.

Heh. Absolutely worth the ka-ching.

Exclusive content for his fans! Yay!

-

Fourth and I are learning welsh together via an online course.

It is so much fun, is it not, BB? :)

HHH!

(That’s a welsh word, too.)

Its so convenient speaking in Welsh. We can say we are…

VSL RGSM-NG

as many times as we want.

HHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! :)

-

I’m listening to Phantom Punch right now, and I love it in all its entirety. :)

It’s been a good wait.

John, Let me go is an AWSMZ track.

Hearts are Open Graves.

Elysian Fields has a song very cleverly titled, Hearts are Open Graves.

I must heap accolades on them for such a wonderful, signigficant and deep title track.

Doesn’t it make so much sense for it to be an open grave?

Because sometimes our hearts just ache and die in situ from all the things that happen to them. They always die just a little bit, by bit.

Set The Grass on Fire.

Pardon the language. But.

Omgwtfbbq. Two words for today -

Elysian Fields.

I am so like, gonna like, buy like, all of their cds when I am able to next step into a cd place, like, hmv.

This is the incoherency in me taking over.

Although I have a few of their songs, the most recent mp3 that I collected left me so high and unable to breathe because I was just. Too mesmerized to function properly.

Les Amours Perdus.

What does it mean, eh, fourth? Its sigh-worthy.

And then I checked out more of their songs on myspace and – sigh.

Its like, a more bodied Air, if I can say that.

Sigh. Its like. Serenity and simplicity with a much pronounced ity-edge. The smokey, honey, warm voice just adds to the appeal.

Deep sigh again.

I love them. I seem to love duos. Elysian Fields are a duo with collaboratives. Like Air and Zero 7. Who have, coincidentally been nominated for a Grammy. Poo-oh. I dont agree with the category they’re in. Electronica/Dance? Umm.

-

Pineapple tarts are so out. Those minature, delicate popiah rolls with pork floss in them and lovingly fried to a warm golden colour, are all the rage.

Yum.

-

This cny, has almost turned out to be a bring-the-girlfriend session.

I almost wanted to blurt out, “Eh, why everyone bring their girlfriends and you bring two boys home?”

I figured it would be a tad too insensitive.

I’ve save the jibe for another day, I shall.

Hohoho.

Pineapple Tarts are Overrated.

I just woke up after falling asleep last night with a full bottle of Sprite in my hand. A bottle that – by the increasingly loose grip of my hand and the always firm grip of the hands of gravity – spilled onto my bed, where I slept so innocently, unknowing of the sticky terrors in which I was marinating.

Grin. Sondre’s punchlines are simply hilarious.

“the sticky terrors in which I was marinating”! HAHAHAHA.

Come to Singapore Sondre! Sigh.
How can he go to Indonesia and not come to Singapore? Unfathomable.

-

There was a time where I was absolutely obsessed with searching for the perfect pineapple tart; after which I’d spend a good deal of time raving about its perfect pineapple goodness.

These days I despair of getting accquainted with the perfect piece.

There are too many pineapple efforts around. Each claiming to be really good. Well I’ve tried so many and yet the elusive tart hasn’t popped out yet. I’ve settled for consuming cheap tarts to relatively alright-tasting ones.

Its like, having cheap milk chocolate instead of that posh, unsweetened dark chocolate.

They’re everywhere. Each milk chocolate trying to prove that they’re better.

I say, pooh. I can taste the effort to recreate a good tart – but its a poorly masked attempt at imitation. There’s no uummppffhhh, know what I mean.

So depressing, talking about this.

Its the same for almond cookies as well. Very elusive. There was only one booth in Taka Square where they sold the perfect almond cookie. It was. Phenomenal. I felt close to tears.

Deep sigh.

The state of food nowadays. Massive un-heartfelt duplication of tarts and such.

-

I can’t help, but -

Clear and smooth skin. Check.

Lovely long hair with slight curls. Check.

Excellent makeup. Check.

Result: Looks like a lovely doll. Check.

Fashionable dress sense. Check.

Tall and slim. Check.

Very sweet and a tad docile. Check.

Did I mention, fabulous skin? Check.

Here we go. I’m a little envious, but I shall cross my fingers and hope everything goes well.

I’ve come up with another theory recently. And that is, at the end of the day, most fellas (the outgoing sort) would want a docile and sugar-sweet girl. I’m not saying like ah, in the morning or afternoon or in-betweens. Those who fall outside of the venn diagram of the above, have a good possibility of just being fillers. Like. In-betweens, know what I mean.

Hmm. I’ve phrased it sententiously but I guess what I’m trying to say, is easily guessable.

-

That’s quite enough for tonight. I’m having a sodding stomachache.

Goodnight y’all.

Stay little Valentine, stay.

90% of the time, I loathe shopping.

I only like cd-shopping. That’s the other 10% of the time when I indulge in it with glee. :)

I guess I just dont have the patience to walk around for hours for clothes, and/or I just dont like a lot of clothes, and/or I’m disheartened by the gross number of clothes that I can’t fit.

Maybe I dont like clothes that much after all.

Snort.

But ah, I definitely have the patience for some cd browsing. Sweeeeet.

-

Do you know that a flower starts to die (albeit slowly) once you extricate it from its place of birth? And I don’t mean marcotting or plant grafting or aeroponics or hydroponics.

I mean like extricating them and moving them into human hands.
(Which is the title of one of Sondre’s songs hooray!)

Don’t you know, when the flowers bloom they’re on the verge of death. Their obvious, open-mouthed plea for help has been masked by precise clinks of fine china and the strains of some violin.

“Phelp usss! Phleeaassee!” they cry in unison.

They can’t even enunciate properly because they’re uh, kinda tied up at the moment.

And all we do is peer adoringly into their faces of suffocating horror and coo at how lovely they bloom.

The deep redness of the roses, instead of being associated with red faces of suffocation and much huffing and puffing, are thought to signify passion.

“Are zes philthy phumans schtupidd or somefinksss?” they sob uncontrollably. “All of ze 99 of usss squashed up together! Her thorns are poking into my long thin body!”

“Dang, why put us next to those baby’s breath? Pooh! They stink up da place, yoZz!” says the lilies. “We so pretty, we da queen of serenity; ya gotta admire us in our simple simplicity!”

“You stupid dolt, never place us sunflowers in orange wrapping paper! It aint showing off our colour to the maximum!”

“Whaddaya mean ya gal aint no tulip-lovin’ mama? I be comin’ from da most respectable tulip garden in da whole of hollar-land, y’all! And now you be buyin’ me and chuckin’ me into garbage! Ah’m feelin’ downright mistreated, dude! Foul for us flowers!”

Ah well.

Such a high price for for the Fall of the Flowers on February Fourteenth.

Curse of the Golden Flower indeed eh.

At least there was a proper burial, I su’ppose.

Tsk.

-

To make up for all my ungirlishness, here’s a really ah, sugary tune. -

Behold the way our fine feathered friend,
His virtue doth parade
Thou knowest not, my dim-witted friend
The picture thou hast made
Thy vacant brow, and thy tousled hair
Conceal thy good intent
Thou noble upright truthful sincere,
And slightly dopey gent

You’re my funny valentine,
Sweet comic valentine,
You make me smile with my heart.
Your looks are laughable, un-photographable,
Yet, you’re my favorite work of art.

Is your figure less than Greek?
Is your mouth a little weak?
When you open it to speak, are you smart?
But, don’t change a hair for me.
Not if you care for me.
Stay little valentine, stay!
Each day is Valentine’s Day

Is your figure less than Greek?
Is your mouth a little weak?
When you open it to speak, are you smart?
But, don’t change a hair for me.
Not if you care for me.
Stay little valentine, stay!
Each day is Valentine’s Day.

- My Funny Valentine, Rufus Wainwright.

(Everyone should get Wainwright’s cover of this classic. Its da shitz.)