Author: shao

POST 80: I’m not in the mood to write stories!

Here’s an amazing, beautiful, charmingly dandy song, please please please listen to it (thanks Chuan):

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bYvt0boSRXQ]

You, Me and the Bourgeoisie – The Submarines

Here I am with all the pleasures of the first world
Laid out before me who am I to breakdown?

Everyday I wake up,
I choose love
I choose light
And I try, it’s too easy just to fall apart

Oh my baby, don’t be so distressed
Were done with politesse
It’s time to be so brutally honest about
The way we think long for something fine
When we pine for higher ceilings
And bourgeois happy feelings

And here we are with the pleasures of the first world
It’s laid out before us, who are we to break down?

Everyday we wake up
We choose love
We choose light
And we try, it’s too easy just to fall apart

Plastic bottles
Imported water
Cars we drive wherever we want to
Clothes we buy it’s sweatshop labour
Drugs from corporate enablers
We’re not living the good life
Unless we’re fighting the good fight
You and me just trying to get it right

In the center of the first world
It’s laid out before us, who are we to break down?

Everyday we wake up
We choose love
We choose light
And we try, it’s too easy just to fall apart

Love can free us from all excess
From our deepest debts
Cause when our hearts are full we need much less

Yeah, I know we long for something fine
When we pine for higher ceilings
And bourgeois happy feelings

But here we are in the center of the first world
It’s laid out before us, who are we to break down?

Here we are in the center of the first world
It’s laid out before us, who are we to break down?

Everyday we wake up
We choose love
We choose light
And we try, it’s too easy just to fall apart

Everyday we wake up
We choose love
We choose light
And we try, it’s too easy just to fall apart

–

bour·geoi·sie [n.] pronounced as bur-juu-wah-zee
used to refer to the affluent middle-class, usually in a derogatory manner

I like this song because it reminds me that there are people worse off than we are and we must be grateful for whatever we have because people are suffering from deformities from Agent Orange which Wikipedia page I chanced upon and has a picture of a bucket of dead white foetuses which is rather disgusting but I kept the page open in a separate tab just in case my mother chanced by and asked me what I was doing.

Like first world problems.

It’s catchy and puts my mind off everything when I go running. I went running and managed to run to one end of the park before tiring out (Google Earth measures it at 2.74 km!)

Still having a cold BLAH

I don’t have a lot anything to say for this because it’s a terribly rubbish title. Seriously, who ever gets filled with joy nowadays?

Unless by “excites” you mean “appeases” and “joy” you mean “loads of food” then the answer is “buffets”. But I’m way past that stage of gluttony I think.

I still don’t have an appetite, I’m still sniffling and sneezing and gasping for breath so I don’t think I’ve recovered much since yesterday. And yet I’m still snarfing my face full of food now arggghghg (honestly I wanted to use this as an excuse to starve or something but noo I’m a lardass) And I’m still sweating and sniffling though I turned the fan on gah

Uhm, the last time I remember being excited was… Maybe for Strahan’s birthday party? I don’t know, I can’t remember a lot right now. Brain’s not functioning well (as always)

I remember the last time I talked to her I was absolutely ecstatic. But it might’ve been a façade or something (I’m able to trick myself oh my gah I am such a boss).

At this age there’s not really anything that can make you “excited” and “filled with joy”, the largest reaction you’d get out of anyone “mature” would be a grin or a hoarse laugh and that’s it. Everyone’s afraid that they’ll screw up and get judged and stuff and that’s why everyone avoids being over-the-top and it’s just ridiculous.

[long gay obnoxious rant about the definition of joy]

Here’s some pretty radical music.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-aexLJKwME]

Off to bed with me!

Hopefully I’ll wake up at 6 or something.

Today was the worst possible day I could’ve ever had. And yet I didn’t really feel upset at all.

I’m sniffling and sneezing and gasping and coughing right now with a sore throat and that’s probably a cold I’ve got. Mucus is dripping out of my nose like a loose tap. A stoned expression left behind from the 5-hour nap – aaaand absolutely no appetite at all either.

It’s that kind of limbo, the kind where you don’t know if you’re hot or you’re cold and you can’t decide whether to turn the fan on or not because you’re shivering and sweating at the same time. Pretty sure I could turn this into a philosophical argument. But I’ll avoid that for now.

I think this is the oft-quoted sickness from worry – I’ve never gotten this depressed (or shell-shocked) before for anything.

Some things and people and relationship mean a lot to me and I think I can trust that nothing’s going to change.

–

There was something really horrible that happened this morning on the way to school. I won’t say what it was but it was really painful. Physically.

When I reached school I realised together with Chuan that Math was on Tuesday and not Monday.

But I wasn’t terribly unhappy.

–

I daydream all the time. To escape reality, I guess. To keep myself happy when the situation doesn’t allow for it.

I once claimed during an interview that I was good in thinking up of ideas. It was a bad idea. I got roasted.

Most of my problems come from thinking too much about things too.

With my earphones on and my eyes closed I imagine things. Life, as a music video. Events playing out in accordance to the music.

“This door is always open, this door is always open / No one has the guts to shut us out”

I imagine, the few of us smiling and laughing, at random things off the camera and apparent jokes. The Esplanade as the backdrop and occasional cuts to me shredding on the guitar. And of course the guy on the drums. The bass player… No one cares about the bass player.

And lots of bokeh. That kind of thing, you know.

I’m an idealist as far as I can tell. Haha.

Here is a quote to justify myself (although it’s just escapism again):

“True genius sees with the eyes of a child and thinks with the brain of a genii.” -Puzant Kevork Thomajan

–

There must be a reason I’m typing this at 1AM 2AM 3AM 4AM. BLAH I don’t feel like sleeping.

Bragging rights. I can say LOL I SLEPT AT 6AM I AM BOSS.

God, I need some medicine for this shit, my nose is pathetic!