nocturne

Jan. 31st, 2012 04:22 am
methrowrock: (Air Balloon)
Hi. It has been a while. Too long. The words are wedged in my throat, dessicated and scratchy. What a pity: just a week ago, they were stretching and ricocheting about like noisy, messy Catherine wheels. Bah-dah-dum! Insert vague statement about how things change and stay the same. Done. And now what? They say that the best way to distill your heart's purest intentions is to let your fingers gallop forth over the keypads like wild stallions. Who says? I don't know, but they are right. The monitor is darkened, the keypads are illuminated, my fingers are tangoing with the neon-lit skeletons of alphabets. And it is refreshing. Bon Iver is on eternal loop, because don't you know? He has collected the sorrows from aching marrows, turned them into tensile strings to pluck at, and coated them with the viscous ennui that is his voice. His songs are forests pregnant with fog that you dream about on stormy nights. And bah-dah-dum! again, a deluge of adjectives to mask the banality of thoughts.



the road to nowhere begins here )
methrowrock: (Fandom 2)
It was a noisy night, just the way that I had remembered it. There was a palpable boisterousness in the atmosphere. Such days were a dime a dozen before, but when it happens now, it sure is worth its weight in gold. Because when you grow up, you grow taller and begin to see the tens and hundreds of paths sprawling away from your little cottage-house, like lava trails flanking the sunken caldera. You realise how fortuitous it was to be incarnated in this very time, this very place. Maybe it is the internalisation of PAP's policies that posit families as the building blocks of society (that readings love to critique as manipulations by our paternalistic state blah blah), but such nights were meant to be carefully folded in lily-scented handkerchiefs, to be unwrapped and sighed over when the night-time blues swashes in. Prior annoyances at forgoing a nice dinner with a subsequent karaoke session (my only ticket to late nights out, the blasphemy!) quickly dissipated, when it was three of us at the dining table, making fun of each other and comparing the sizes of our bloated bellies. Reigning champion speaking, thank ayou very amuchy. Then, the brother and the parents crowded around, drawn by the hub-bub. We moved on to Catherine, the crazily difficult and mentally exhausting game that Gus loves to play. Efforts at sabotaging, pulling blocks here, cat-fights between the characters there, ostentatious celebrating inyerface everywhere, outsmarting sometimes, doing stupid things other times- it is always nice to laugh to tears and have your stomach hurt and cheeks ache from mirthful vibrations. Moved on to watching shows after, and hence, complementary snacking habits + synchronised swooning over Blaine from Glee + musing about Phil resembling somebody that we know. The sun nearly rose by the time we slept, but anything for old times right? Sunday afternoon, that was when things settled back into its well-worn pattern, so adieu adieu, and tucking away of the hanky into the corner of the warmest pillow. It will be another two months? Hmm. I wonder how next year is going to pan out.

all the seasons start to run )
methrowrock: (Default)
For once, I want to live in cliches. Luxuriate in their tackiness. Believe in the authenticity of the majority. Reblog pictures of the horizon, with sentimental drivel superimposed in capital letters, on Tumblr. (Those that actually incite laughter when I see another reblogging it) Oh, bleed me dry of bitterness. It gets tiring to be at war with everything, or things that are supposed to be effortless and commonplace. The cascade of hours is gnawing at me. Twenty is a tosser.

the last of nineteen )
methrowrock: (DBSK!)
It has been nearly two weeks since the end of finals. And what a wonderful fortnight it has been. The Cheongs lead insanely exciting lives. On a typical weekday night, you would witness my brother slaying dragons on the PS3, as my sister and I battle it out for the computer, because we both have an imaginary kingdom to rule. On even more adrenaline-pumping nights, we would sit behind silver screens and ogle+goggle+giggle at adorable tufts of fur and dimpled gurgles. That is how time should be spent right? With people you love, doing the little things that you enjoy. Weaseling out of cumbersome outings to catch a (free) movie and ponder about the source of its popularity (Thor. Granted, Loki was magnetic.) Or walk around Orchard with nothing to do and wanting to do everything, and stumbling across a gorgeous shop, with rows and rows of vintage toys and ludicrously painted paperweights. Or simply, hovering over the other's shoulder, commenting about the city layout in Emperor or instinctual high fives when Mongo the next Dogwoggle levelled up to be Level 16 Paladin, with Grandmaster Archery. I am a homebody through and through.

The days in greater boring detail. )

Tired of typing and itching for some kingdom-ruling. Had my first day as a phone surveyor yesterday, and I am hoping that it would be the last. If my other applications don't work out, I'd be content to be cooped at home, catching up with reading. Then again, I should earn some money. Decisions, decisions, we'll leave them to later, as always. Going to be without Internet for the next two weeks, because I am hoping that good karma will be equivalent to good CAP and will be lending it to my brother as he traipses around Japan. So long, farewell, till June.

methrowrock: (Air Balloon)
Sitting here in a darkened room, as the rain bristles gently tickle the windows, it is not hard to be not unhappy. Double negative: ha, that's the tricky part, as I recently learnt after watching Scott Pilgrim Versus The World. Which was a pretty crazy and surprisingly good film featuring the ever-winsome aw-shucks doe-eyed (and all the other similar-veined hyphenated adjectives that one can think of) boyish charm. Oh no, trademarked rambling in action again. Anyway, so here I am, constructing a thin facade of wanting to run yet lamenting over-exaggeratedly about it being grey and rainy. Who am I kidding? These days are the best days, even if it would mean my inevitable struggle during training camp next week. But that would be a tale for another day further along the time-space continuum. Ha.

all to all )

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