Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Two walls, a door and the toilet bowl.
In uni when the essay deadlines, word limits and realising how all research material are borrowed out by other more motivated individuals get you under the weather; you feel the urge to vent. You want others to hear your inner voice, not the politically correct polite views you obligingly say during tutes, but that inner self simply waiting to burst out and give the whole bloody world a piece of your very capable mind. But of course when other peeps look unstressed, like they're not on the verge of physical mutilation, you don't think that creating a scene as you explode with angst and earnestness will make earn you the respect you think you deserve.So what better way than to vent, privately, in a very private space shared by the public?
A Buffy wall in the John Medley East wing third floor female toilet has had its fair share of trials and tribulations - inspired scribblings suffering from whitewashing by the authorities (though the repainting was so halfhearted that the scribblings still showed under), marker black-outs etc. But toilet literature is something to behold. Here goes uni gals' last stab at female teenage angst.
Buffy is an awesome example of post-modernist feminism
[in response to 'post-mod fem'] I'm asleep already
Kicking-ass in high heels does not make you a post-modern feminist
Buffy is a crackwhore
[in response to 'crackwhore'] damn straight
Buffy is a republican. no. really.
And of course any self-respecting lady will wanna claim credit for being the creator of toilet lit:
Thank you for defending my Buffy wall! I think Buffy is an important part of toilet entertainment!
Well said indeed.
lux at 6:35 pm
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Sketches with pencil and graphite
Sometimes I think we live too complicated lives. We make them complicated, really. Not that we can avoid doing so because life deals us so many surprises that in learning how to cope with them, we end up driving ourselves deeper and deeper into the rathole.Just pause, reflect and take some time to savour what we have in our lives. The good we appreciate; the rotten we learn to face directly. Why do we not know how to love what we have but continue to crave and yearn what we don't?
I always thought my life had a big grey centre which drowns all the shadows I immerse myself in. But there is a certain black and white which I have and which I ought to be grateful for.
And with grace and renewed faith, and love and thanks, I will give back.
lux at 12:13 pm
Saturday, April 16, 2005
My Prerogative
I think Britney should die in typical infamous pop-rock star fashion - from a drug overdose.lux at 10:31 pm
Sunday, April 10, 2005
postal code
I am not sure why, at this age and stage of my life, I am still prone to periods of mood swings and depression like I do now. Frustration with how I can be misunderstood; say things which I did not intend to say; not do things which I intend to do...Do not throw words like 'patronising', 'obligation', 'sensitivity' or 'mitigation' at me, because I honestly do not know what to do with them. Its times like these where I wished I never knew their meanings, or social connotations.
Lux, simply angst yourself silly. You are so full of yourself.
lux at 11:30 pm
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Two swords and an amulet
I finally know what it's all about! After waking up to the sounds of my door knocking against the frame at nine, it dawned on me what Samurai Champloo was about.Two guys claiming they fight only for themselves - one seeking self-redemption after living years of being a criminal who knows only his brand of breakdance-kenjutsu, the other who is searching inner resolution after killing his sensei in defense. Both met each other, fought, were stopped by Fuu, and promised to continue the fight after the end of their journey together.
Travelling across a Japan under the Tokugawa Shogunate for all 22 episodes and having me think that they must be headed nowhere for there was no plot. Each episode seemed to stand on its on, having seemingly no connection to the central idea [which we all know, and only surely know, that Mugen and Jin are enlisted by Fuu in a heads-or-tails? bet to help her find the Sunflower-smelling Samurai]. Occasionally the producers will be kind and tell me where they have roughly landed themselves in geographically.
All of a sudden I was at episode 24 and near the end of their journey together. I still did not know how it was going to end... and then it ended, as it had to.
And now I know what it was all about. There can be only one thing that can make them travel and fight together without realising how close they were reaching their destination, which is both the near-end and the Sunflower-smelling Samurai.
The Sunflower-smelling Samurai was killed by the Shogunate and they all departed their own ways knowing their paths will cross again somehow. But not after knowing that Fuu had tricked them earlier on. She said heads and they all thereafter joined her in her uncharted journey. It was really tails. But knowing that only at the end of everything can no longer tell us, and them, about anything that has happened thus far.
Tails, not heads!
lux at 10:38 am
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
M(ind). C(rash). Escher
Three nights ago I had my first bout of insomnia in Melbourne. [Not that I am going to celebrate every first-of from now on because there will be many more to come and not all are worth thinking over.]Well it was routine for me: the clock hands inched towards one a.m., I hit the sheets dutifully, curl up and begin to ease into slumber. I watched the trees shake terribly as gusts of wind swept through the neighbourhood. The leaves rustled restlessly. I couldn't stop thinking about the things that went on earlier in the day - grabbing a thorny stem with my left hand, hiking in my sneakers, eating Viet in Footscray, having an intense conversation with a good friend... So while the winds blew I kept on staring through the venetian blinds at the swaying trees, my mind working overtime.
I stared and my mind moved. Closing my eyes I could see my thoughts gaining visual form. They started morphing into tessellations, one moulding itself after the other. They clung to each other, moving endlessly, never seeming to end. Three hours later and I could still feel my brain organise itself into tiles. Defragmenting its bytes.
The crow cawed. I wanted morning to come so I could wake up. When I awake the whole ordeal will end.
I awoke to the sounds of raindrops hitting the window. The crow was cawing again. The trees were still swaying under the weight of the wind. At least there is rain... there is reason behind it after all.
lux at 10:25 pm
Friday, April 01, 2005
No April fool
I've no idea how why peeps celebrated this day as such, and I've no desire to find out.But which is sadder: not playing tricks on anyone or not have anyone play tricks on you?
The only thing I got was a friend 'wishing' me Happy April Fool's day. The only significance the day now holds is the ushering in of a new month.
One more month into the year, more regret at not having done much so far, wondering what I'll accomplish in the next 9 months and feeling the weight of growing older as I inch towards 20.
For now I'll try to revive my blog writing! and end this day for fools on a positive note. Yeah!
lux at 11:43 pm
Music router
This is for you Zaki, after reading your blog.Yes after looking up on the tour dates and realising Tori isn't coming to Oz, I hurriedly sourced out an online forum, signed their 'Tori please come to Auz' petition and resigned myself to waiting in vain. So eager was I to watch her in concert (and partly to send my friends, like you, back home swooning in envy). Little Earthquakes is such a find isn't it?
I thought Portishead had disbanded already? They released two albums and a NYC live recording and disappeared completely, save Beth who probably still guests sings for other acts from time to time. Not that the three albums are weak, rather the stuff they've dished out have found few rivals in the jazz triphop scene. So to hear that they're coming out with new material after nearly a decade, I suddenly feel immensely invigorated.
And on to the Scissor Sisters - I'd rather them not make it big in the US actually. That country of crass commercialism and media exploitation will simply make the band an overexposed/overrated/overhyped entity. I'm sure more discerning Americans, like people from the rest of the world, have and will listen to them.
lux at 11:32 am