| (Catherine: It's going to be easy, Claire, it's gonna be so fucking easy you won't believe it.) |
[Nov. 3rd, 2009|10:04 pm] |
|
If this is really what it means, then I'm sorry I was ever born. Thanks for taking care of me and bringing me up, but no thanks for always putting me down. I always thought that maybe someday you'd change and be a better role model than you are now. You always made me feel like you're one of the most perfect, one of the best I could ever ask for. But as with everything else, I'm wrong. I've known this for years now. I never want to be like you. That's what my mirror is for. To check if I'm growing into a you. If that ever happens then what I've been working for all these years will come to waste. And I'll be the saddest, sorriest, most pathetic fuck ever. I don't want your vices and shortcomings, I don't even want your strengths because I have and will have my own. Whatever it takes, I want to be a better person than you'll ever be. |
|
|
| (all we can do is keep breathing) |
[Oct. 29th, 2009|12:25 pm] |
On nights traversing the lonely path surrounded with gnarly darkness and the occasional person, in the theatre with a group of friends and couples stuck together all around, on long and quiet bus and train rides accompanied with Satine to fill the silence, in the coffee shop in the cold cold afternoon with my hoody and notes and exercise books and haunting the baristas and people who talk too loudly, walking in the twilight with rarely strong breeze and a beautiful sunset and Satine feeding out Sigur Rós. Sometimes it feels like something is missing. Something, or someone. I just can't figure out what. Or who. Or which one. And I hate this confusion which I do not need. Not right now. Nor ever. |
|
|
| ("O brave new world, That has such people in't!") |
[Oct. 17th, 2009|08:59 pm] |
01. Death Cab For Cutie – Meet Me On The Equinox
02. Band Of Skulls – Friends
03. Thom Yorke – Hearing Damage
04. Lykke Li – Possibility
05. The Killers – A White Demon Love Song
06. Anya Marina – Satellite Heart
07. Muse – I Belong To You [New Moon Remix]
08. Bon Iver & St. Vincent – Roslyn
09. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club – Done All Wrong
10. Hurricane Bells – Monsters
11. Sea Wolf – The Violet Hour
12. OK Go – Shooting The Moon
13. Grizzly Bear – Slow Life
14. Editors – No Sound But The Wind
15. Alexandre Desplat – New Moon [The Meadow]
__________
I was shocked (understatement) when I heard, a couple of months ago, that Death Cab was releasing a new single on the New Moon OST. And then I saw this tracklist just now.
SERIOUSLY!?!??!?!?
THIS IS WRONG. SO. VERY. WRONG.
THIS IS OFFICIALLY THE START OF THE DEGRADATION OF GOOD MUSIC.
The Twilight saga deserves new age Disney music. Not these artists.
|
|
|
| (the beginning after the end) |
[Oct. 15th, 2009|09:38 pm] |
all the blood and the treasure and the losing it all the time that we wait and the place that we fall will we wake in the morning and know what it was for up in our bedroom after the war? Stars
This journey ended too soon. Maybe sometimes it's not so much about the journey but about what you took from it. Maybe it's not so much about the experiences but more about the lessons. Nevertheless, it is the process that holds true substance, and what you take out from it is distilled and pristine. Now I that I've matured I wish I could turn back the clock and remake my two years in this place. I long for another chance to be a better student, better team mate, better leader, better friend, all these with my new better self. It is with such regret that we grow emotionally, no? For a strange reason it always feels like this at the end of a journey. I can never recognise my younger self from the starting line. This realisation struck me sometime in the past couple of weeks -- and I wish I could have taken more out of the time spent in this place, but I guess the looming home run makes me take my attention off of fixing bridges and the things that truly matter. I'm scared. Honestly, I'm scared shitless. I'm scared of not doing well enough for myself, for the people who expect something out of me, for the people in this with me. I'm scared of being left alone. I'm scared of what awaits me, of facing reality and the horrors that come alongside. Most of all, I'm scared of myself and what I can't accomplish. What if everything you went through in a journey boiled down to a result, and that result was what mattered most? I'm scared that what I take away from this is not enough. And facing reality now, I'm nowhere near adequate.
But I wish I could care less about what my journeys culminated in. I wish what matters to me most is the realisation that I took the paths less travelled and that that has made all the difference in my life. I wish what I truly wanted was to hold the things I treasure close to me, instead of turning away from them in pursuit of something I've been told is more worth it. Maybe after the dust has settled will I be able to see more clearly what I've taken from this. That when I wake from my slumber after the storm, what is in the mirror is what I have, what I am. A guy built on imperfections.
_____
Why would today have been any different? Morning was the same -- the train ride was the same -- the bus to school was the same -- the treatment towards each other in school was the same. Nothing changed. Since day one until today. So what if today is the last day we get to discreetly acknowledge each other along the corridor or pretend we're both translucent in the lift and transparent in the void deck? I'm stupid to have expected anything more._____
A page turns, a chapter ends and a new chapter begins. It's life.
Change is traumatic. It especially seems so when it seems like the change seems more like the end of a book than a transition and you desperately cling to that which you are leaving behind in the vain hope that you can keep things the same forever. Because we like what is familiar. The familiar gives us comfort. We know how to handle the familiar. The new. That's truly frightening. The new is that which is unknown, unseen and threatening.
But like all chapters of a good book, a chapter is merely a part of the story. Turning the page is necessary as you embrace the process that makes you who you are... and who you will eventually be. And that has to excite you somewhat. Because, despite what many would have you believe, Junior College is not life. It's the gauntlet that you all have chosen to weather that helps to forge you into the person that you will become. So while some of you will be fretting over the fact that life as you know it may be over, I challenge you to see it as the beginning of the rest of your lives. As to what part the chapter that you are closing plays in the grand narrative that is your life, that's entirely up to you.
As teachers, we have tried to mould you in some way to help you become that which we know you have the potential to become. We have cajoled, scolded, nagged, screamed at and dumped demerit points on you because we think that you have the ability to rise above who you are and transcend. The time for that guidance, however, is over. We have to trust that we have done right by you and that we have done the best we can to make you the best person you can be.
Hopefully we don't send you out half baked.
All that said, go on! It's time to turn that page! Baccalaureate is the end of the chapter that marks the end of your years in a school uniform. The start of the next chapter, like all new chapters, also marks the birth of the person that you will be. And I can't think of a better way to send you off into that adventure than to borrow the words from a person more poetic than I.
Mr Daniel Tan
_____
I wish you taught me. Thank you.
_____
Don't worry about that extra line
That's creeping up your face
It's just a part of nature's way
To say you're grown a little more
Trees have rings and thicker branches
Kids shoes get a little tighter
Every year we're getting closer to who we're gonna be
It's time to celebrate the story of how you've come to be
So light a candle on your cake
For every smile you've helped create
For every heart and every soul
You've known to grow a little more
A few more pounds, a little more grey
Don't count the years just count the way
It takes a little time to go from water to wine
Don't ever lose the wonder of the child
Within your eyes
Happy birthday my friend
Here's to all the years we've shared together
All the fun we've had
You're such a blessing
Such a joy in my life
May the good Lord bless you
And may all your dreams come true
The Birthday Song Corrinne May |
|
|
| (Stop before you fall/ Into the hole that I have dug here) |
[Oct. 2nd, 2009|11:06 pm] |
| [ | musique |
| | Pete Yorn - Lose You | ] |
Sometimes time plays dirty tricks on you. What if time was really relative? In epistemological sense there really isn't a way of knowing how quickly or slowly your time is passing relative to others. It's as if the universe, in all it's omniscient and omnipotent energy reaches for your very line of existence and fucks up the linearity and consistence of your own space and time. On the ceiling of the universe there lies a giant clock that, without digits or numbers, merely measures the linear passing of units of time and uses it to play with your clock. No water balance or sundial or caesium that records one second, two seconds, five minutes, an hour, noon. Just the constant trickle of water droplets falling off a leaf, a straight path of nil resistance. And Laplace's Demon cares not for the relative motion of all quarks, atoms, molecules in the universe. It shifts you around like a pawn, slows you down and fast-forwards you, pulls you off your realm and throws you back immediately.
You realise that what is, in fact, twenty counts of '9,192,631,770 cycles of radiation corresponding to the transition between two energy levels of the caesium-133 atom' to the universe, otherwise known as twenty seconds to humans, could feel like an hour to you but a split second to someone else in some other corner of the universe. It's how you arrive at a bus stop and wait fifteen, twenty minutes, an eternity, for your bus to arrive, and someone else arrives at the bus stop thirteen minutes later than you but waits less than five minutes, the bat of an eyelid, to board the same bus. It's how you wait two lifetimes sitting on your girlfriend's porch steps for her to be ready for a dinner date but when you see her you feel refreshed, as if the two lifetimes didn't happen/ didn't matter. It's how you one day try to control your smoking by counting the number of hours to the next cigarette but lie in bed at night realising you smoked more than on days you don't watch the clock. It's how at home you take two days to finish an essay but a hundred and thirty-five minutes to finish three in the exam hall. It's how you always continue walking down your path of existence and never realising the universe is pulling the carpet underneath you.
So there you are, the universe. I've exposed you. Your unscrupulous manipulation.
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
highlifevista's journal