Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
The sound of you sleeping
I seem to have lost my appetite. I mean, I get hungry and all, but I never know what to eat and don't know what I feel like eating, which makes eating a chore because then it becomes something you do for the sake of doing and not because you enjoy doing it.
Still, it's a timely - if annoying - thing to happen. It's official: I'm fat; have put on around 5 kilos since Jan this year. Those I've complained to so far have parroted one another - "It's muscles, not fats" - but I don't wanna look beefy either ...
=(
Still, it's a timely - if annoying - thing to happen. It's official: I'm fat; have put on around 5 kilos since Jan this year. Those I've complained to so far have parroted one another - "It's muscles, not fats" - but I don't wanna look beefy either ...
=(
Thursday, September 25, 2008
The sound of you sleeping
... it really just struck me that I listen to you sleep a lot. A lot - like, every night. Sometimes I even get to watch you sleep(!).
Maybe you're right - it's almost as if we're dating our cell phones and laptops and Skype - but, right now, with 4 (5 next week) hours and a few thousand-odd miles between us, I'd rather have you breathing into my ear through the headset than falling asleep alone. In silence.
Is that a little bizarre?
Maybe you're right - it's almost as if we're dating our cell phones and laptops and Skype - but, right now, with 4 (5 next week) hours and a few thousand-odd miles between us, I'd rather have you breathing into my ear through the headset than falling asleep alone. In silence.
Is that a little bizarre?
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
The sound of you sleeping
Things seem to be at a sorta lull at work; maybe it's because in the part of my life that's not-work, I'm back in the waiting game. Wait wait wait, is all I do.
Wait.
I need a trim. Sooner rather than later.
Wait.
I need a trim. Sooner rather than later.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The sound of you sleeping
Actually I managed to get into a headstand via a side split without my usual spastic twitch/jerk yesterday after several tries and 1 video recording.
Today I ache - neck, shoulders, head. Was caught in the fucking traffic this morning thanks to the F(ucking)1 road closures. Some lady fainted a stop before Suntec; the rest of us (including the bus driver) gave up the wait. Those working at Suntec walked nearly one bus stop's distance to work. And you know what it looked like? A mass exodus.
But no leader to part the bloody steel (still) sea.
I dread tomorrow's commute. I'mma try my luck with the trains.
Today I ache - neck, shoulders, head. Was caught in the fucking traffic this morning thanks to the F(ucking)1 road closures. Some lady fainted a stop before Suntec; the rest of us (including the bus driver) gave up the wait. Those working at Suntec walked nearly one bus stop's distance to work. And you know what it looked like? A mass exodus.
But no leader to part the bloody steel (still) sea.
I dread tomorrow's commute. I'mma try my luck with the trains.
Monday, September 22, 2008
The sound of you sleeping
Somebody not in my phone book sent me a text tonight that read: Hey I remember you love the White Rabbit milk candy - remember to throw them all away!
No idea who it was, yet I was too embarrassed to ask. Here you've somebody who remembers what I like to eat, yet whose number is somehow not in my phone book?
I texted back saying I in fact have a couple of those candies left but would prolly just eat the rice-paper wrapping; whereupon the reply was a resounding "NO". So I texted I'd prolly just keep 'em as souvenirs, and got the reply, "As long as they don't end up in your mouth [...] take care!"
How sweet - and I don't even know who it was!
(Although I think there's a 75% chance it's a girl - guys don't remember such stuff.)
No idea who it was, yet I was too embarrassed to ask. Here you've somebody who remembers what I like to eat, yet whose number is somehow not in my phone book?
I texted back saying I in fact have a couple of those candies left but would prolly just eat the rice-paper wrapping; whereupon the reply was a resounding "NO". So I texted I'd prolly just keep 'em as souvenirs, and got the reply, "As long as they don't end up in your mouth [...] take care!"
How sweet - and I don't even know who it was!
(Although I think there's a 75% chance it's a girl - guys don't remember such stuff.)
Sunday, September 21, 2008
The sound of you sleeping
Funny how it goes: I find myself tidying up around my room as I get (more) stressed out by the tideous and obstacles-ridden task of formsformsform - as if putting things away, tidying up, physically, will somehow tidy up and put things in their places in my mind.
If only things really worked out that way ... But, no, the things in my head have to be done physically too. They're sorta like Loops of Zen - things are somehow connected; to solve the puzzle, you need logic, and to work out the knots in the right order.
Sigh.
If only things really worked out that way ... But, no, the things in my head have to be done physically too. They're sorta like Loops of Zen - things are somehow connected; to solve the puzzle, you need logic, and to work out the knots in the right order.
Sigh.
Last pole class, then a break of one Sat (stupid F1). We learned the jazz dismount and hanging side split today - not a lot of stuff, admittedly, but some of us were still struggling with the stuff we learned in previous classes.
Am addicted to this game currently. Despite the 'Zen' in its name, I feel anything but like my name playing it.
Now attempting to solve a level 26 puzzle (my "best level ever"): ARGH.
Am addicted to this game currently. Despite the 'Zen' in its name, I feel anything but like my name playing it.
Now attempting to solve a level 26 puzzle (my "best level ever"): ARGH.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The sound of you sleeping
So stressed out by forms. =(
I try to tell myself, they're just forms - just fill them up, submit them, and you'll get what you want ... which you will.
But I know better: Something will screw up somewhere; there are always obstacles, and Thurday's child has far to go.
Why is it so difficult?
I try to tell myself, they're just forms - just fill them up, submit them, and you'll get what you want ... which you will.
But I know better: Something will screw up somewhere; there are always obstacles, and Thurday's child has far to go.
Why is it so difficult?
Thursday, September 18, 2008
The sound of you sleeping
I don't wanna jinx it, but I think I caught a relatively high wave - and it still being a relatively full moon and all - so I'm gonna ride it out for all it's worth, use it to get things done, put myself on course. While I can.
Likewise, these couple of days my mind has been endlessly - almost prodigiously - spewing sentences ... But always too fast for the hand to record; too fast, even to trip off the tongue or trip it.
Still, that's not gonna keep me from trying to make a note of them somewhere - never know when these oases/mirages of words/sentences start evanescing, leaving me back in my barren desert.
Likewise, these couple of days my mind has been endlessly - almost prodigiously - spewing sentences ... But always too fast for the hand to record; too fast, even to trip off the tongue or trip it.
Still, that's not gonna keep me from trying to make a note of them somewhere - never know when these oases/mirages of words/sentences start evanescing, leaving me back in my barren desert.
The sound of you sleeping
I want to be able to call you. I want to be able to knock on your door. I want to be able to keep your key and to give you mine. I want to be seen with you in public. I want there to be no gossip. I want to make supper with you. I want to go shopping with you. I want to know that nothing can come between us except each other.
Winterson, Jeanette. The PowerBook. Great Britain: Jonathan Cape, 2000.
The sound of you sleeping
This quote from Kate Bornstein's Gender Outlaw is always lurking somewhere in my mind:
It's taken out of context, but it rings true - at least for me.
I've seen me, my secrets - skeletons I buried so deep it'd take years of excavation to unearth them - the depth and darkness I'm so susceptible to. I haven't seen all of me, but that's enough for me to realize ... I can't accept myself the way I am - and I don't think anybody should.
What scares me the most, I think, is the person I look at with longing looking back at me with the same longing ... I'm afraid for the both of us.
But there’s always one of them who looks at you
with longing.
And that scares you the most,
Because if you let that longing into your heart, you have to
accept yourself
just the way you are.
It's taken out of context, but it rings true - at least for me.
I've seen me, my secrets - skeletons I buried so deep it'd take years of excavation to unearth them - the depth and darkness I'm so susceptible to. I haven't seen all of me, but that's enough for me to realize ... I can't accept myself the way I am - and I don't think anybody should.
What scares me the most, I think, is the person I look at with longing looking back at me with the same longing ... I'm afraid for the both of us.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)