Voice of a hard-boiled angel.

Amazingly soulful. Why do they always die so young?

Visions of loveliness.

Whatever the hell happened to blogger man. Something's screwy with the interface. No matter. Life moves on.

I recently managed to get my luggage from Edinburgh back (yes, it left a month before I did, returned a month after. Do the math.) A little treasure trove of trinkets and things fell right out, along with assorted memories of SEP life.

Life was good then. It was simple. Why isn't it so anymore? So strange. It's as if we carry our complications with us, and it hangs in the air. Returning to Singapore refreshed, I get bogged down by the little details of life. Or perhaps the air in my homeland begs me to reflect, and think too much.

I was pleased to find that my posters had all arrived more or less intact. I just hung up my favourite star of the silver screen, she's sitting on my wall looking at me with a pensive smile.

http://blog.pricegrabber.com/chicshopper/files/2007/11/audrey-hepburn-poster-c11738523.jpg

There's another vision of loveliness that runs through my head every night, but that might just have to wait.

I've been infected with the blues. And it's good, a fantastic way to relax. Just kicking in a backing track and wandering up and down pentatonics for a few minutes is strangely therapeutic. Even better, it doesn't sound too bad either. Maybe i'll write a couple of songs, it's a form of self-therapy. Gets the insides out, if you know what i mean. Got to get out of the key of A though.

Work is fantastic. I love it. I'm sincerely hoping I get a change to get back in after I graduate, so i'm gonna work my arse off if I have to. It helps to have motivation everyday though. :)

The falling leaves.

I sent my brother off to the airport earlier, after a large, meaty bbq the night before. It's not difficult to resettle back into the rhythm of the Singapore life, when it just seems as if new tasks and events just loom over each horizon. The pace of life really does display a marked difference.

As I was turning into YCK, something caught my eye. The rain trees had shed some of their leaves, which were gently falling with the wind. As the cars drove by, the little currents toss and turn them, jarring their inevitable descent towards the ground, swirling up cones and sheets of brown fleckles.

For some reason, it brings to mind the blossoming of the sakura trees in Japan. I've never seen one personally, but if I were to imagine it, this would be what I see in the mind's eye. Something poetic about the way it just tumbles about, tossed by the winds of fate.

A dearth of freedom in the air.

As far as I can make it, the supposition of a free wireless at many places of transit seems to be a blatant lie. It seems as if every possible service provider is falling over themselves to provide a way to siphon more money from the undiscerning public.

Of which I am unashamedly one. From personal observation (and the critical comments of others, I must add) I realise that I have two weaknesses on the move - A severe coke addiction and a craving for the surrounding banality of the internet.

The first is a simple physical need - As I have explained to many, coke is the ultimate travelling tool. It's sugar, caffeine, and water all rolled into one package. Staves off hunger, depression, thirst, and it doesn't taste half bad, even when warm. It's hell for your teeth, but on the road, some things have to go. (Apologies to Ed, you will have a bitch of a time with my teeth.)

The second stems from the inherent call of the world - the need for information saturation, and the craving for the ease of having the knowledge of the planet at your beck and call, to answer to your every whim. Feel like checking out whats up with Michael Jackson's estate? Wondering about the new H1N1 count in Singapore? Have a sudden urge to watch Ozzy Osbourne's Crazy Train? The internet is the perfect complement to the ADD-led minds of today's generation. I've recently re-discovered the power of youtube - It's a visual google. There are a hundred and one explanations on how things are done, in thousands of messageboards and websites on the net. But as with many other things, some people learn better visually, and who better to teach than the hundreds of attention seeking demonstrators on youtube? I've found everything from how to change a floyd rose tremolo system, to dancing basic tango, to learning how to drop kick like William Shatner. Well, effectiveness could be debated. But it is entertaining, and some of the demonstrators are rather amusing.

Debating the extent of my addiction is difficult. I think i've paid a total of abt 50 sgd for 24 hours of internet access over 2 different airports in less than 12 hours. I know, i'm terrible. But as of now, I've got 7 hours more of dead time waiting to check in for my final flight out of London to Singapore, and I'm rather determined to keep my mind active and my wits about, all for the better to crash on the plane on the way back. It's 3am here, but about 9am in SG. All the better to shock my body clock back into sync with local time. As most of you know, I'm hitting the ground running, not much time to spare. Even the quarantine for those coming back from H1N1 countries was lifted, so there goes my 7 days of relaxation.

Well, the end of my exchange stint is rapidly approaching. I know I've been lacking in updates for the blog, but I'd developed a writing system over my exchange months. I've actually filled a small notebook cover to cover (single sided), and am currently happily writing on the back of the other side. It's actually quite rewarding to see it fill up with random observations, recording of travelling sights and events. I'll probably flesh it out with photos and some post-travelling comments when I get back (and if I have enough time.) Would I bother mass-producing it to give/sell to others? I don't know. I'll see how it goes.

Wherever you're going, i'm going your way.

One example why life is unfair - A voice that enchanting belongs to a face just as beautiful.

The hardest words are the seven letter ones.

It felt different, this time I stepped out of my room. Looking back, it was bare, stripped of its essence. The remnants of my past life these 5 months lay about in dribs and drabs, trailing a path of frantic packing over a night of musicals, whiskey and conversations.

I was leaving a hall, but yet it was different. In NUS (I'm not ashamed to say it) I was happy to leave. While I was rather active in hall, the activities were forced, and the people there I didn't quite clique with. Nevertheless, I made a few friends in my stay, although much more acquaintance. And besides, visiting Temasek was always a stone's throw away. Maybe that's why I never really went back?

I was leaving my room for a trip, but yet it was different. I stepped out of that little room in Pollock many times over the last few months, letting a few day's worth of dust settle before returning to its musty, homely splendour. It became so easy, I would barely start packing until hours before I was scheduled to leave. But each time I left, I knew it was only temporarily. A temporal distortion, taking me away for the moment, but only to return.

I was leaving my life in Edinburgh behind. A short life, but a very eventful one. In the last 5 months, I have made friends that I know I may not see again for the rest of my life. And that really sucks. When you're out there half a world away (or even 2 nations away) from home, every human contact and friendship counts. And you hold on a lot harder to people than you normally do. That's just the way of things.

And in this short life, I was reborn. I left the cares of a "second-lower-striving-for-second-upper" behind, left my eternal worries about studying, my grades, my projects... It was a good feeling. A feeling of release, of ease, of relaxedness. Life became meaningful in the passing of a breeze. The feel of the wind against your cheek. The softness of the grass you lie on to enjoy the sun. The ephemeral taste of a Guinness as it slides down the throat. The sudden ringing of the phone when a friend calls to ask what you're doing. Suddenly there was more meaning in life, and more life in meaning for me.

But all good things come to an end, and it was time to part. I will always feel that my departure from Edinburgh was a rushed affair, a ceasarian rip that tore me from the womb that nurtured me the last 5 months.

Barely 24 hours after my last paper, I left the city.

Knowing that the next time I come back, I won't call this home.

Knowing that the next time I come back, my friends will all haved moved on and gone.

Goodbye Edinburgh. Goodbye.

I've got my pride and i know how to hide all my sorrow and pain.

And too soon shall we all part.

aware?

I'm rather suprised at the effectiveness of Twitter as a social broadcasting tool. I'd been following the AWARE EGM at Suntec via Twitter for the last 3 hours, and it is a really gripping saga. Feels like some drama serial on TV.

The concept of distributed reporting seems seems to be a winner to me. What will come next? Sports twittering? I can imagine 100 people at a soccer match twittering every move, to the delight of fans all over. This is the new face of citizen journalism - Who needs skill? Just a short sentence (which sometimes barely makes sense), but with a couple hundred other people doing so as well, it all comes together.

Cheers to the new AWARE exco. Keep the fundamentalists out.

Let The Right One In.

This film is startlingly gripping. And definitely a new take on a genre spoiled by the Twilight series. Shot in Sweden, the atmosphere is dark, gloomy, and I swear i feel the chill even in my warm room here. The actors, despite being children, deliver a strong depth in their performance. Dark, moody, poignant, I would watch this again just to share with my friends what interesting things you can find when you actually bother to look at the advertisements on the London Underground. Do watch it if you can, before the Americans get to it and spoil it for the rest.

Best. Eponine. Ever.

I always liked Les Miserables. So when I got the chance to see it again in London, I jumped at it. Didn't matter that I had to drag two other friends to come and see, it was so worth it. Even if I had to pay for the other two (which I didn't.)

Completely blew me away. Nostalgic yet new at the same time, with the songs taking on much more meaning and undertones. It is believable that these people have done the show year after year, it was splendid.

I always found Eponine much more outstanding than Cosette, for some reason. The London cast only reinforced that opinion for me. Nancy Sullivan is a fantastic Eponine. Doesn't help that she's a flaxen-haired beauty with the voice of an angel. Sigh. Could a couple more girls like that fall out of trees please?

This is one of my favourite songs from the musical. She's singing about unrequited love. Hopelessly romantic, but it's a thing I do, I guess.

The Horror.

It's amazing what you bump into on random bookshelves in youth hostels. An enterprising bugger actually left a copy of Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness and other stories" on the shelves. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, i promptly stole it (well, borrowed) for the duration of my stay.

It took 2-3 nights of nearly falling asleep to make it through the text, but once i was done i couldn't help but go through it again. It's one of those things that you would want to read over and over, poring through the details of the meanings, the depth of the intepretation. On the surface it is a simple tale of restoration, to bring back someone lost in the jungle. Below, the currents draw deep.

What is the heart of darkness that Kurtz and Marlow speak of? Not merely the depth of primeval jungle that Kurtz has imprisoned himself in. Perhaps it is the greed of the merchant trader, willing to do all to take the ivory from the shores of Africa. The will to ignore what happens to others, to forsake the humanity due to the natives, to bind them to his will, and to pillage and plunder wantonly.

Or perhaps it is the darkness of the spirit, that infects those far from civilisation - the darkness drawn not from the exterior surroundings, but rather from a lack of internal nourishment. The lack of companionship, the lack of order, the lack of civility. The complete and utter failure of society to prepare the orderly minds of the educated to face the rawness of the jungle. In that way, the "Heart of Darkness" draws a parallel to "The Lord Of the Flies", but instead of seeing the gradual disappearance of society, we see the effects of a society gone to ground - where supplies sent are squandered, where rule of law exists by whips and guns, where the slaves are slaves due to a meaningless charter, where all that exists is a greed to take and take, without consideration or care.

I like the book. Intend to get it back in Singapore. I think the other two stories are worth reading, if only to place "Heart of Darkness" within context.

Teh Shit.

Writing...

There's a certain satisfaction in writing long emails and blogs. For me its been more of the former than the latter since I arrived in the fair city of Edinburgh. I think its a lost art. The ability to put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) and to write sincerely, from the heart, and to let others know about how you're doing.

I think I'm one of those who derive great pleasure from writing. It used to be fiction - I remember loving the freeform composition writing I did in secondary school. Now apparently I get a kick out of talking about my travel experience, writing in a somewhat off-putting mildly disjointed way - But i guess that's the way I'm thinking at the moment. Free-Association mental workings.

I think, well, I'm quite sure I will write a book on my travel experiences. Probably a photo-book kind of thing, with my notes supplementing my favourite photos from my 6 months here. So I have a one man market, but are there any more out there who would buy it?

Gambling.

I had never been a gambling man.

 Well, I claim to scoff at those who make their fortune from the bad plays of others, and disdain the casual wagered games of chance (or skill). Perhaps I just can't play it well? I hope my dislike for the bet goes deeper than that.

I'm straight and narrow. Always on the straight and narrow. A failing perhaps - To always want to know exactly where things are heading, to want to know as much as I can about the future, to find the path laid before me unfurl exactly as planned. Boring? Methodical? You decide. I like seeing my plans put into action. I like knowing what I want to do tomorrow, the day after, the week after, the year after. Well, not exactly in three-dimensional computer simulation kind of detail, but a rough idea would be good.

I was never one to live life on a day to day basis. Even now, on a honeymoon semester in Edinburgh, it shows. My Rainlender is packed - Not with school stuff, but with the things I want to do OUT of school. Carpe Diem, they say. I say Carpe Diem, Carpe Noctis, Carpe Vita.

And that's just me. I like me this way.

Osmonds!