Hi kittens!
I want to blog, but I'm supposed to be doing work. But suppose I had nothing to do and could blog at leisure, I would have talked about addictions and how I've been fortunate enough to not be dependent on things like drugs, or alcohol, or cigarettes, but somehow through some twisted working of fate I have become almost scarily obsessed with Big Bang and 2NE1 (both are Korean pop bands, by the way).
And then I would have crapped at length about how freaky this is because I've always seen celebrity crushes for what they are: stupid. I mean, yes, I lust after Edward Norton and young John Cusack and Erlend Oye but I know perfectly well it's all just for fun. But somehow the commercial genius of YG Entertainment (the South Korean talent company responsible for the two groups) has managed to pierce my armor of rational thinking and now I can't stop watching videos of said bands and squealing over how cute they are and making unfounded declarations of love("Oppa saranghaeeeeeeee!!!"). HOW DID THEY DO IT?!
At first it was funny, then I spent a whole weekend doing it and didn't do my work, and it wasn't so funny anymore. But now I think I'm starting to regain my scattered pieces of common sense, so it's slightly funny again. Adoi. How la. I am a casualty of the Korean wave.
OK! SUDAH! SUDAH! No more crushes on hairless boys who can dance well and girls who are so cute yet have swagger.
So kiddies, today's mantra will be:
I will be productive today.
I will be productive today.
I will be productive today.
I will be productive today.
God, it's one of those days where I want to apologize to anyone I've ever hurt with my actions or inaction, and where I sincerely hope everyone's doing well.
FIGHTING!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Time flies
It only occurred to me after I had left the apartment to check whether the library was actually open. It is after all, a public holiday.
Well, that's what you get for being a melon-head.
So I kept on walking, and I was wearing my new earphones, the ones which impaled my wallet, making it bleed money, but compensates by providing sweet,sweet pleasure for my ears. It goes so far as to make me chuckle sometimes, because when I'm listening to music it's as if I'm in a movie with a personal soundtrack, and that, my friends, is a dangerously lulling experience. All the more so when it's autumn and leaves are falling, it makes you start to think you're in a Korean movie.
I walked and I saw things like pretty flowers and the people from the Chinese Theater Group doing their chalking. The sun was out at the time, it was quiet, and I played the same two songs over and over again. and I thought about things like how this is probably the last year I'll be here, so I better look around uni and see all the nooks and crannies I haven't seen yet. I thought that my book-bag was too heavy and how silly it was of me to be lugging it around. I decided not to do any work today, even though I knew I'd come to regret it, and I was bitter about that for a couple minutes.
I thought about friends who let me realize, via their friendship (no dramatic proclamations or confrontations needed), that melancholy, while delicious, is a passing thing. And that is definitely a good thing.
Well, that's what you get for being a melon-head.
So I kept on walking, and I was wearing my new earphones, the ones which impaled my wallet, making it bleed money, but compensates by providing sweet,sweet pleasure for my ears. It goes so far as to make me chuckle sometimes, because when I'm listening to music it's as if I'm in a movie with a personal soundtrack, and that, my friends, is a dangerously lulling experience. All the more so when it's autumn and leaves are falling, it makes you start to think you're in a Korean movie.
I walked and I saw things like pretty flowers and the people from the Chinese Theater Group doing their chalking. The sun was out at the time, it was quiet, and I played the same two songs over and over again. and I thought about things like how this is probably the last year I'll be here, so I better look around uni and see all the nooks and crannies I haven't seen yet. I thought that my book-bag was too heavy and how silly it was of me to be lugging it around. I decided not to do any work today, even though I knew I'd come to regret it, and I was bitter about that for a couple minutes.
I thought about friends who let me realize, via their friendship (no dramatic proclamations or confrontations needed), that melancholy, while delicious, is a passing thing. And that is definitely a good thing.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Allez-y!
In another dimension, Atiqah is not doing an inadequate job of studying for a couple tests she has, nor is she guilty about having eaten wholly unhealthy foods the whole day.
No. As a matter of fact, she is taking a quick shower. She is going to wear her favourite pair of jeans and a comfortable top, slap on some moisturizer, and wear the necklace her mom bought her for her 21st birthday.
And instead of picking up her book bag filled with her heavy slab of a textbook and and her notes, she is instead going to dump everything out onto the floor, and stuff her bag with her music-player, camera, journal and colour pencils. She'll pop in a pear just for the sake of it, slip on her most comfortable pair of shoes, the red flats with the bows on them, grab her wallet and keys, and high-tail it out of the apartment.
Since the library's closed, she'll make a pit-stop at the bookstore and choose a cheap paperback or magazine, and since she's at the shops, she'll get snacks.
Then she'll go somewhere, she's thinking of the beach. She'll go there, find some ideal spot, kick off her shoes, and just sit and stare at the ocean, for at least half an hour. The rest of her time will be spent listening to music, writing in her journal, and reading whatever it is she brought along while munching contentedly on some form of food.
This dimension's Atiqah will not worry about tests or growing-up or becoming a corporate robot. She will not ruminate about things she would like to do over or regrets she might have. Even if she does, it will be okay.
And in this dimension, Atiqah can eat whatever and however much she wants, minus the guilt.
No. As a matter of fact, she is taking a quick shower. She is going to wear her favourite pair of jeans and a comfortable top, slap on some moisturizer, and wear the necklace her mom bought her for her 21st birthday.
And instead of picking up her book bag filled with her heavy slab of a textbook and and her notes, she is instead going to dump everything out onto the floor, and stuff her bag with her music-player, camera, journal and colour pencils. She'll pop in a pear just for the sake of it, slip on her most comfortable pair of shoes, the red flats with the bows on them, grab her wallet and keys, and high-tail it out of the apartment.
Since the library's closed, she'll make a pit-stop at the bookstore and choose a cheap paperback or magazine, and since she's at the shops, she'll get snacks.
Then she'll go somewhere, she's thinking of the beach. She'll go there, find some ideal spot, kick off her shoes, and just sit and stare at the ocean, for at least half an hour. The rest of her time will be spent listening to music, writing in her journal, and reading whatever it is she brought along while munching contentedly on some form of food.
This dimension's Atiqah will not worry about tests or growing-up or becoming a corporate robot. She will not ruminate about things she would like to do over or regrets she might have. Even if she does, it will be okay.
And in this dimension, Atiqah can eat whatever and however much she wants, minus the guilt.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Where thrills are cheap and love is divine
Every once in a while I come up with awful, simplistic poems, the kind that kindergarten kids could do. In their sleep.
For example:
If you were staring at the stars
Well, hey,hey!
I was staring at them too
And it's cheesy, I admit
But I was thinking about you
And this onerous to-do
Of not forgetting
Not forgetting you
And while the poems are mostly for private amusement(and also private bereavement, as they are reminders of how I can't write even halfway decent poetry), sometimes I imagine that these are the lyrics that will be incorporated into a lovely, generic, guitar-strumming pop song (I was thinking Colbie Caillat). The song will be a hit, the kind that becomes the soundtrack of a pivotal scene in the season's hottest tv series, is the week's most downloaded song on Itunes, and remains in Rick Dees' Weekly Top 40 list for months. As the official lyric-writer, I'll earn my cut of profits, which will be massive.
And therefore, while I have no poem-writing talent, I can console myself by thinking about all the millions I'll make.
I was walking home from the library with my MP3 player on shuffle, and Kings of Leon's Dusty came on. I have to say this, and I am sorry if this is inappropriate, but it is one helluva sexy song la wei, tolonglah!It's just the whole vibe of the song, the blues-y feel, the repetitive drawl of the guitar,the complementing bass, fuh. It had me thinking slightly mischievous thoughts, I couldn't stop smiling at my shoes. Must have looked like a total idiot.
Great song, great song. Infinitely better than any of those try-hard songs that try to shock you with their explicitness.
Cuaca sekarang semakin dingin
Aku sering ditiup angin
And those will be the first two lines of the song that will be sung by Siti Nurhaliza and be the smash ballad hit from her umpteenth album, which will make it to number one on Carta Hot FM, win Anugerah Juara Lagu, and lead to a sequel concert at Royal Albert Hall.
Excuse me while I bask in my imaginary wealth.
For example:
If you were staring at the stars
Well, hey,hey!
I was staring at them too
And it's cheesy, I admit
But I was thinking about you
And this onerous to-do
Of not forgetting
Not forgetting you
And while the poems are mostly for private amusement(and also private bereavement, as they are reminders of how I can't write even halfway decent poetry), sometimes I imagine that these are the lyrics that will be incorporated into a lovely, generic, guitar-strumming pop song (I was thinking Colbie Caillat). The song will be a hit, the kind that becomes the soundtrack of a pivotal scene in the season's hottest tv series, is the week's most downloaded song on Itunes, and remains in Rick Dees' Weekly Top 40 list for months. As the official lyric-writer, I'll earn my cut of profits, which will be massive.
And therefore, while I have no poem-writing talent, I can console myself by thinking about all the millions I'll make.
I was walking home from the library with my MP3 player on shuffle, and Kings of Leon's Dusty came on. I have to say this, and I am sorry if this is inappropriate, but it is one helluva sexy song la wei, tolonglah!It's just the whole vibe of the song, the blues-y feel, the repetitive drawl of the guitar,the complementing bass, fuh. It had me thinking slightly mischievous thoughts, I couldn't stop smiling at my shoes. Must have looked like a total idiot.
Great song, great song. Infinitely better than any of those try-hard songs that try to shock you with their explicitness.
Cuaca sekarang semakin dingin
Aku sering ditiup angin
And those will be the first two lines of the song that will be sung by Siti Nurhaliza and be the smash ballad hit from her umpteenth album, which will make it to number one on Carta Hot FM, win Anugerah Juara Lagu, and lead to a sequel concert at Royal Albert Hall.
Excuse me while I bask in my imaginary wealth.
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
You! Me! Dancing!
There's a song by Los Campesinos with the title as above, and I do believe it is one of my favourite song titles ever(the song itself is pretty catchy too). In an ideal world, this title would be my ultimate pick-up line. Me and the guy I'm crushing over would be in the spastic dancing club as mentioned in one of the previous posts. He would be standing alone by the free water counter, upon which I would sidle up to him and perhaps just look at him silently for a moment. Then, I would shout "You! Me! Dancing!". And then we would go spastic dance together. Habis cerita. So rudimentary, so straight-to-the-point, so concise.
Too bad it's not an ideal world.
Too bad it's not an ideal world.
Thursday, April 01, 2010
Jijim
All of sudden I want to blog a lot, where is this enthusiasm coming from?
Maybe it's from the fact that today is the last day of class before a week-long break for Easter! Sure, I'll finish late, around 7pm because of my Audit lecture, but imagine that feeling of sweet, sweet joy I'll have when I walk home knowing I am going to do NOTHING AT ALL for the weekend except fun stuff and I can sleep guilt-free without worrying about homework, at least for the next couple days.
Speaking of guilt, I woke up late this morning and skipped one of my lectures, and it made me feel guilty.
That irrelevant confession aside, I feel slightly breathless. Not literally out of breath, but more like I have that tak-sabar feeling to blog, as if I have tons of good news to announce, or useful information to share.
I actually don't. As usual, much of what I'll write here will be incoherent nonsense, and I suppose it's a morning-after effect of having too much cake (the amount of cake and ice-cream I had yesterday was SINFUL, I tell you), but whatever.
Have I ever told you about my brother? He just turned 13 yesterday. My brother. When he was a toddler I used to love holding out my arms and see him running towards me for a hug. My adorable brother, the one who managed to inherit long,pretty eyelashes, a genetic trait that skipped past the daughters of the family(kakak and I both have the straight, downward-slanting-macam-bumbung kind). He used to be all round and pudgy, with a perut buncit and chubby cheeks and curly hair, and he would do things like talk embarrassingly loud while using the public toilet, and he loved trucks, tractors, forklifts.
My brother's now a teenager, and he's no longer pudgy, he's thin and lanky, and I suppose his height is shooting up even as I type this, because 80% of his pants always seem to look senteng on him. He is intelligent, he can be eloquent when he wants to be, stubbornly opinionated, obnoxiously annoying, very cynical, knowledgeable on all things military.
My brother, my teenage brother. When I was in my mid-teens, going through my crazy years and thinking that my family disliked me, he was excluded from that bullshit. Maybe because he was still small. Even as a crazily emotional time-bomb, you don't doubt the love and intentions of kids, you're not paranoid with them as you are with adults. When he got older and started having some troubles of his own, I thought I recognized some of them as mine, and I felt an affinity with him. Although I was at loss at attempting to say "I get it",that feeling of understanding and wanting to make things better made me feel like a big sister more than anything else.
My brother, whom I think my sister and I are trying to sub-consciously develop into becoming our best version of a man. We want him to be smart, respectful of women, we want him to be kind, open-minded, brave, and everything good, with the bonus of having good taste in music and books.
He loves to read, he loves cats, he loves iced lemon tea, he likes Kings of Convenience and Radiohead. He's learning to play the guitar, he's an avid gamer, he wants to buy a gas-mask off ebay, he now has facebook. Girls are starting to show an interest, he sometimes feels isolated at school, he's doing choral speaking. He's not that much into sports, he has a sense of humour, he can be the typical teenager with a sullen expression on his face and a mono-syllable answer for every question, but there are times where he will crack a smile, burst out laughing or become wildly enthusiastic over something.
He's growing up.
Maybe it's from the fact that today is the last day of class before a week-long break for Easter! Sure, I'll finish late, around 7pm because of my Audit lecture, but imagine that feeling of sweet, sweet joy I'll have when I walk home knowing I am going to do NOTHING AT ALL for the weekend except fun stuff and I can sleep guilt-free without worrying about homework, at least for the next couple days.
Speaking of guilt, I woke up late this morning and skipped one of my lectures, and it made me feel guilty.
That irrelevant confession aside, I feel slightly breathless. Not literally out of breath, but more like I have that tak-sabar feeling to blog, as if I have tons of good news to announce, or useful information to share.
I actually don't. As usual, much of what I'll write here will be incoherent nonsense, and I suppose it's a morning-after effect of having too much cake (the amount of cake and ice-cream I had yesterday was SINFUL, I tell you), but whatever.
Have I ever told you about my brother? He just turned 13 yesterday. My brother. When he was a toddler I used to love holding out my arms and see him running towards me for a hug. My adorable brother, the one who managed to inherit long,pretty eyelashes, a genetic trait that skipped past the daughters of the family(kakak and I both have the straight, downward-slanting-macam-bumbung kind). He used to be all round and pudgy, with a perut buncit and chubby cheeks and curly hair, and he would do things like talk embarrassingly loud while using the public toilet, and he loved trucks, tractors, forklifts.
My brother's now a teenager, and he's no longer pudgy, he's thin and lanky, and I suppose his height is shooting up even as I type this, because 80% of his pants always seem to look senteng on him. He is intelligent, he can be eloquent when he wants to be, stubbornly opinionated, obnoxiously annoying, very cynical, knowledgeable on all things military.
My brother, my teenage brother. When I was in my mid-teens, going through my crazy years and thinking that my family disliked me, he was excluded from that bullshit. Maybe because he was still small. Even as a crazily emotional time-bomb, you don't doubt the love and intentions of kids, you're not paranoid with them as you are with adults. When he got older and started having some troubles of his own, I thought I recognized some of them as mine, and I felt an affinity with him. Although I was at loss at attempting to say "I get it",that feeling of understanding and wanting to make things better made me feel like a big sister more than anything else.
My brother, whom I think my sister and I are trying to sub-consciously develop into becoming our best version of a man. We want him to be smart, respectful of women, we want him to be kind, open-minded, brave, and everything good, with the bonus of having good taste in music and books.
He loves to read, he loves cats, he loves iced lemon tea, he likes Kings of Convenience and Radiohead. He's learning to play the guitar, he's an avid gamer, he wants to buy a gas-mask off ebay, he now has facebook. Girls are starting to show an interest, he sometimes feels isolated at school, he's doing choral speaking. He's not that much into sports, he has a sense of humour, he can be the typical teenager with a sullen expression on his face and a mono-syllable answer for every question, but there are times where he will crack a smile, burst out laughing or become wildly enthusiastic over something.
He's growing up.
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