A Thought!

Que qu'un m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore serais ce possible alors.

When you get writers to write songs, there will be wit and brevity exploding subtly from every line.

My Magnum Opus

This weekend (and perhaps next week if its not done in time) I will write my Magnum Opus (up to this point in time), an historical essay assessing the impact of the Cold War on the Arab-Israeli conflict from 1956-1979. I don't as of yet know what my points will be, but I know the style I would like to write my Magnum Opus in, an exploratory style. An essay which raises pertinent points and develops alternate points of view so that, rather than being just persuasive, my essay will leave the reader feeling he has been treated to many different angles and he will then come to the conclusion I have been nudging for all along.

And I hope I get to go to London in December.

Oxford!

I got into Oxford! I've been accepted to study History! Yay yay! I am so happy! Using so many exclamation marks! My whole year of effort and hopes and anxiety and preparation has not been in vain! My life has been set on a stellar new course! They world is my oyster! Adieu Malaisie!

Practicing for January.

A Beirut September

But never in a million years. One video of Zach playing his ukulele in Paris. Walking in the streets past a patisserie/boulangerie. Ukulele sounding dreamy as hell. Saying oui oui, then trailing it off with a weird laugh. Oh, it's The Penalty he's playing. I don't have that song in my library!

I hereby declare September 2011 to be Beirut September.

I solemnly swear to listen to Beirut until they are firmly wedged in my top 8 last.fm most listened too artists.

And Paris!

Hero

Hello world. For the past two days I have been listening almost exclusively to Hero by Regina Spektor. Why? That is the question you must ask.

The only other song I have heard is U2's With or Without You. Must have heard it about 7 times today.

Mood Swings

Yesterday night I felt like I was on the verge of Jian Eu 3.0, a brand new beginning to a better me and a better life. At night the thought I went to sleep with was carpe diem. Crazy stuff.

Today I feel like a sick parrot. I feel hopeless and I'm really considering deleting my facebook account. I want to withdraw from the world.

11.52

Oh my God. I'm so screwed. I don't know what I am anymore. Like some jigsaw puzlle haphhazardly put together from many many jigsaws. I'm a bit of everything conflicted together and one graet jumble of influences.

Sense

The artist sees the world differently. The painter looks at the world as though it were painted canvas. Notice the interplay of colours! It's even better with a shortsightedness of at least 200 in power. Without spectacles, the world looks as if it were an impressionist painting. Broad strokes, colours swimming around and into one another, nothing is sharp or well defined, everything an impression. And Stunning.

So the musician would hear the world differently too. That's why I regret not learning music.

Today I feel trapped inside myself. But if I'm not me, then who else?

DELF

J'ai decide prendre l'examination DELF B1 a Novembre.

Quiet Night Broken By Rain

Climb along the rock face of the mountain. The steepness of this face is a little greater than 45 degrees. There are white ropes to hold on for safety. The ledge is not much more or maybe less than a foot. When you shine your headlamp down the side of the mountain, you can't see the bottom. It's very steep. If you slip you will probably slip down to the bottom, its a very long slide and too steep to stop yourself. It's 3 am in the morning.

It starts raining. Water runs off down the surface of the mountainside. Some of this has collected into a waterfall. Supin is asking us to hurry before it gets worse. I lose my balance and almost fall if not for the rope. Gloves are dripping and fingers start to numb. We make it down. Relief.

I prayed for safety. We didn't make the summit. Maybe next time.

The Sad Woman at Giant

Yesterday we went to Giant to buy some Nature's Valley bars for the trip up Kota Kinabalu. At the cashier, a very sad woman was alone behind us in line. She was sad not because she was crying, not that kind of sad, but she was sad in a pitiful sense.

She was around her late thirties and she was dressed in her office clothes. It was 10 pm which meant she must have been working in late. She looked a bit like a gnome and she was very tightly strung. Her shoulders were bunched up and her movements were very jerky, like someone who is angry and about to cry. The worst part was that all she had in her basket were about 10 cans of Campbell's soup.

Holden Caulfield would have been depressed by this and I was too. Here was this woman who looked like she didn't have a partner and wasn't likely to have one. She had been working late, which was normal, and was extremely stressed out and all she would eat for her dinners were Campbell's soup. What type of life is that?

The night before I had dreamed that I was walking around Pusat Sirius. I recognized the place, it was somehow similar to what I remembered but all the rooms were larger, quite like Hogwarts. I was just walking around my old school but I couldn't stop crying. I remember walking through most of the classes, they couldn't see me as if i was invisible, and I recognized many of the people there and through it all there were tears coming out of my eyes and I was helpless to stop it.

The MJ Tribute

My mom's Michael Jackson tribute has become official! She sent it to the Star and it was printed as the page lead for letters. For today, it is the most emailed article. It's big.

I guess I am proud.

I Think I'm Tired Therefore I Am

I slept for twelve hours. Then I got up. Then I wasted some time and felt tired again. So I went up and read about Nietszche. I read about how God is dead. I read that humans had killed God. I read that Christianity is wasting our time.

Nietszche is heavy stuff. After that, I slept for three hours. I didn't dream about God or Nietzsche since I guess they're both dead.

So is Michael Jackson. I'm not going to write a tribute but here is a heart-wrenching, soul-tearing and tear-inducing tribute.

Means

At class today there were two girls, sitting side-by-side, talking. A girl in the row behind tried to get into their conversation. "I know! But..." "My mom also does that..." "Its so annoyi..." "Ya! So dis..." She tried six times but everytime they just kept on talking. They cut her in mid-sentence and didn't bother to look her way.

So she finally gave up trying to talk to them and the two oblivious (or maybe not so) girls continued their bimbotic conversation. The girl who tried to enter the conversation worships one of the two girls-who-continued-talking.