sweet beguiling fantasies;

Friday, November 16, 2007

The Declaration of Truth
Here I lie weak in my limbs
And sober in my mind.

Indifferent to the cause
I indulge more than I incline.

I have said once and a many times
Let Folly promenade in vain
And let it be my crime.

Now lend me your ears
To matters of the most important kind.
These are the truths. These are what I call-
Mine.

Setting: In today’s context, the study room. In the Victorian era, the ‘drawing room’. Atmosphere: KT Tunstall’s ‘Hold on’ blasting on the stereo overpowering the prodigious sounds of drilling and slabs of concrete thrown on the floor from the external environment. SWEEET. Oh by the way, I am so going to get my hands on her ‘drastic fantastic’ album as soon as the terror of exams obliges to disappear.
Speaking of exams…
I have consciously and conscientiously led myself go astray. To even ponder on this is absolutely ludicrous. I am truly cognizant of the fact that I am once again indulging in one of my most infamous follies. With so potent a force one can hardly imagine what kind of weapon should be deployed. But all it needs is simply a vindication of such existence. With accordance to Sigmund Freud’s renowned psychoanalytic school of thought, I have formulated a logical explanation to my so-called deliberate display of follies (I say deliberate because it is consciously done even if my will does not permit such imprudent actions): Where repression becomes the cause, visible symptoms begin to take shape. Now that the cause is illuminated and justified, clearly the next step is the chastisement of one self.
Henceforth, whatever cause or action I shall undertake will be done so in a self-abnegating manner.
Perhaps I should stuff a dagger in my bosom. I so deserve it.
Why such follies promenade in vain?
Shall I laugh myself out of it?
‘For what do we live but to make sport for others and laugh at them in our turn?’
Two-thirds of my fate has already been written. I wrote it myself. Can’t be that it was pre-ordained by my ancestors.
Indeed, I am destined to be a vagabond.

Apparently I am not fortunate to see the colossal acropolis in Greece. I am now to prepare myself for sheer opulence and grandeur: the Hermitage. So I am not to be grieved at all. Since the latitude of that place is the same as the Arctic Circle, I must say I have to double or even triple my winter supplies.I love the cold. One thing that I can’t seem to comprehend is why the citizens of this so-called ‘emerald isle’ simply clamor for a soak in the sun. Truly absurd I say. We are living in a perpetual tropical climate. Perhaps I'm generalising. Perhaps only some. Whatever the case, it is still ridiculous.

Now permit me to drown myself in my incessant grief.

a clandestine affair;
4:56 PM

Monday, September 24, 2007

The Age of Enlightenment

A note for prior notice, or shall I say, to forewarn you readers this: I delight in being cryptic and equivocal at times. So if your nerves dont permit such vexation, please discontinue to read. If someone were to enquire on my present disposition, I would gleefully add that I am in the best worst state ever possible. These past few days were somewhat like purgatory for my sinful procrastination hitherto pursued. A seemingly lackadaisical manner of comportment has carved a fool out of yours truly. I am now no better than a battered shoe- tired, worn-out, exhausted and ramfeezled. I now can hardly align myself with that 'progressive being'. It is indeed dreadful. Utterly dreadful. Look at how deplorable a state I am in. Don't get me wrong here though. It can be vouchsafed that these lines are free from seeking any form of pity or inducing any kind of sympathy. For after all (or perhaps applicable to me only), Discomfort is like the canvass on which the mighty Comfort takes its form. And that's the ultimate cause for my cathartic outpouring of emotions. Not too long ago, I played Achilles and guess what? Amusingly, my fate was the same as his. Except for the fact that there's a marginal difference: Paris' arrow shot through his heel and mine was through my ticker and by someone whom I can hardly imagine wielding a bow and an arrow. Strange indeed. Ticker gets emboldened with high spirits in one moment and deflated in merely a second. The sheer size of defeat is too overwhelming for a ticker so delicate. Or for any other ticker for that matter. The convict clearly has no sympathy for my nerves. Is Raphael to paint without his brushes?! How am I to be enlightened with the convict's response if the convict makes no response at all? Anyway, if you ask me, the enlightenment part is wholly questionable. I'm thinking more of the French Revolution you see. Perhaps the convict is determined to see my head go under the tumbril. Oh yes and not only the convict, but the attorneys of my prelim exams too would delight in envisioning such a fate for me.

On the contrary, I am looking forward to my stress-relief days which jumpstarts on the morrow!!! Will be heading to the one-of-the-only-few-places-worth-considering-to-recommend-to-external-beings-alike aka town with three of the most insane, catastrophical, boisterous and apparently at the same time gorgeous beings on earth: ANTONINE, SARANYA and LAY HWEE. Then again to think that I have to put up with miss sparrow's nonsense about her being horizontally challenged will be like adding on to my stress. And then nine will retaliate with one of her trademark lines adding, "If you're fat then what am I?". And there goes lays being the intermediary between the two. And there lies rat pondering over the aftermath of this 'im-so-fat' conflict. This is what happened a few hours ago when we had a conference call. Again, I seek no pity or sympathy.

haha. Oh and did I mention the ancient, colossal Acropolis awaits my presence for this coming winter? If not then now you hear it and I shall trumpet to the world of the confirmed departure soon. Till then, i most graciously entreat your pardon for reading so disturbing an account. Then again, i know you can't help it. haha the lure of the rat.

a clandestine affair;
1:58 PM

Thursday, August 09, 2007

THE TRIUMPH OF DEFEAT

I am absolutely aware of the fact that I have breached the order of my self-imposed exile from this virtual realm. I shall extend my arms to welcome the consequences that henceforth looms near. Hitherto, I have been complacent that my army of intelligentsia (commonly and fondly referred to as THE IMPERIAL GUARDS) will continue to reside in my territory. Weakened by the obsession for power and tormented with the possession of fear, I look upon my dogged practices in immense agony. And now as a burnt child, I have made a declaration to deploy stronger ammunitions. The time that has wistfully fled is now the past and hence it is utterly absurd to mourn over spilt milk. 32 DAYS TO PRELUDE AND 82 DAYS TO FINALE. The process is daunting but could be enlightening too. These significant days will soon be history or if not a legend in making. And hence on this note, THE IMPERIAL GUARDS shall march to war.

Only this and nothing more.

a clandestine affair;
9:02 PM

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

10 hours to CANADA. Blimey! When was the last time i blogged? A month ago?! (Wad hv ya been doin rat? lazing around and watchin stupid tv sitcoms dat make u go "whattttt yyyaaaa ddddddooooiin?") haha i wished i had. That way i would not have been feeling so dull and dreary as i do now. In fact little miss rat here esconced herself in an armchair with piles of books closely encircling her for about half a month. yes u got me there- half a month. a little flashback would help shed some light on this. In the throes of mid-term exams By way of experience i hereby list the blatant signs of exam stress: 1) The tintinnabulation of thoughts 2) The ticker's spasmodic palpitations 3) The fluttering butterflies in the 'garden of villi' 4) The astronomical plunge in body temperature 5) The faint fingers- rickety with trepidation and 6) The erratic soul seeking refuge in Hades' realm told seb that we reap the thorny fruits that we are to savour later. and he 'humbly' replied that he dont think his fruits might be edible- and they might actually be poison to his tchers and parents. I felt like punching his face inside out cos in da end he did quite well for gp n lit. my results? the fruits to me, were not luscious enough to savour. so u might have guessed how i had done. After exams 24th May Aft lit paper, nine, sparrow, ling, ush and me headed off to lido to catch Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End. To tell the truth, i didnt really like it. complicated plot, hanging denouement and the completely- turned psychopath Jack Sparrow really did put me off. 27th May Vivo-ed with daddy ling and giraffe : ) oh god i shall not forget this day. haha damn funny manz. wanted to go out with ling as many times as i can before i leave for canada n before she leaves for aussie... for 3 years!!! oh no im soo gona misssssss herrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. ARGH. rite so this day... at first giraffe and me wanted to watch blades of glory BUT there were no seats left. so we resorted to seeing a VERY EXCITING movie. this is wad we all did... the three smarty pants... without looking at ANY poster or advertisement or trailer we chose 'born into brothels'. so we sat down at da back row harbouring thoughts of watching a mind-blowing movie. guess wad? It turned out to be a bloody documentary in the red light districts of Calcutta. So much for the excitement. 29th May Results unveiled on Tearsday. sorry tuesday. Town-ed with nine and ling. Bought Ling a hot red bag from project shop. home-d with ling. i cried. she cried. we both cried. I'll really miss her "never-the-mind(s)", her adoration of farm animals and esp the times when we had nachos tgther. 30th May which is today. Vivo-ed with ling and nine again. stupid sparrow cldnt make it. ate lunch and walked arnd before i had to rush home to pack my bags for tmr. cant wait to leave this 'green and sunny' island for vancouver. sharks i still have alot to pack and here i am blogging. alritey then this long decent entry would make up for my absence in this virtual realm for these fast approaching days. Before i leave i'll make an outright proclamation that... I LIKE OKALAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

a clandestine affair;
11:23 PM

Monday, April 30, 2007

The Dawn Of Sleepless Nights Approaches

Today is officially marked as The Beginning of the End in the calender of yours truly. It shall spearhead all efforts taken to build my army of intelligentsia- all within the frame of my mind. Every second is a gem so none shall go to waste but thrown into meticulous efforts to regain absolute control of the cerebrum.

a clandestine affair;
9:31 PM

Sunday, April 22, 2007

"The Mighty Conjuration
Matisse embodied the essence of nature with only one angular-sized palette clothed in myriads of colours. Beguiled by nature and uplifted with passion, an unperceivable vision clouds his senses, almost as if floating in from an unfathomable realm. Entranced by this vision, Matisse puts his tools to work. We can but only gape in awe- orchestrating nature with his senses and luring their essence to his canvas. It is as if he plays the magus, casting spells on Andromeda and Quesnelia and their fellow Flora and Fauna, teleporting them to his realm. Oh what divine prowess! And much more that towers! He is indeed at the zenith of his artistic ingenuity. Every brush upon every paint and every paint on every brush speaks of his passion in inconceivable volumes. Art is indeed a creation very much that of his doings in nature- 'Blesseth he who maketh thee'. "

You might have thrown yourself into speculation on why I have taken the effort to type this out, or even write it for that matter. Well sheer boredom is not to be given way for an answer when I have piles of ev odevi waiting for itself to pounce on me. It is more like an appreciation and admiration for extreme ingenuity. Sometimes, or actually all the time, inspiration derived from the sensational and intriguing imagination should be given credit to its utmost volumes. Less likely that it should be detrimental to the individual thats why I am quite dubious about the periodical influence in terms of the frequency in paying homage to a Divine Artist. Just as Austen most humbly sought for quiet publicity, this is as much as it is. You can put it in two ways: either I am outrightly but silently publicizing the 'I' factor and the other counterpart in question OR I am simply an affected soul giving credence to a renowned Artist. My quietened self would rather prefer the latter as an answer, and my alter ego having the other as one.

Actually it was someone who came to me and asked me to paraphrase a sentence regarding Matisse- how he used cerulean, raven, chrome, emerald and vermillion colours to paint the lush scenery that surrounds him- somewhat like that. And then from a distant realm, Matisse's paintings came as an outburst into my failing memory. I was coerced to do some research on him quite a few years ago for what I cant rmbr but i do rmbr one thing: that I was very much moved by his expressionist and realist paintings. My cause to which I conjured this short passage of appreciation to Matisse's works is not to brag about his paintings per se but mostly to point out that both art and nature coexists and only artists like Matisse have come to embody and emulate their very essence to his paintings.

I have come to know that a couple of Lourve's Grecian and Hellenistic art galleria are to set foot in S'pore I dont know when but to be leased for display in the National Museum. How amusing. Being a die-hard fanatic for Greco-roman sculptures myself I have not found myself to be rather excited. Why u might ask. To boundless mournings I can take you to with just this query. Recently, an Italian senator chained himself to a column near the gates of the Uffizi museum to protest the loan of Leonardo Da Vinci’s “Annunciation” for a show at Japan’s National Museum in Tokyo. But to no avail, his loud protest fell on deaf ears.

Heavens forbid! These are masterpieces sculpted and painted by the very divine artists that are so very well praised and admired of across the globe. How appalling that it should be purchased for bucks and displayed hundreds of thousand of kilometers away from its homeland. I shall rest my case. For if chaining oneself to a museum is not gonna work what are mere words going to do?

a clandestine affair;
2:30 PM

Monday, April 02, 2007

Miss Pernickety, the Perfecto

I should say it was quite an enchanting weekend. As sweet as it was though, I still had to take a tinge of salt. For as usual, (yeah you can chant along with me)... blame my lackadaisical manner of comportment. Well I'll tell you first the cause of the enchantment.

Apparently I made a long-lasting acquaintance with a book; a book that I so very long yearned for. It involves the works of the great Christopher Marlowe. Perhaps it is his very greatness that is the cause for the charm. It is not that it is difficult to get hold of the book but the fact and the real feat is to find a book that is of the very best publisher (for the abridged versions are susceptible to the author's preference in terms of subjectivity); that its edges are not gnawed away; that there are no scratches, ink spills, marks whatsoever, but one that should have the appearance of a freshly printed and bound tome.

You may wish to call this a perfectionist syndrome but i rather prefer it to be known as a blessing under the guise of the parchments. For these are the very tomes that are being written in my brain, imprinted on my heart and embedded in my soul. As nostalgic as it may sound, I won't resist in admitting that I'll take all of these tomes to my tomb.

How my soul shudders at the very thought of having so vast a knowledge of this very world. Some presume that I always look at things from a strange perspective. These people got the perspective part right, but strange? I don't think so. You see, I see the real from the unreal; the truth from the false and the beauty from the grotesque. This is how I comprehend the the myth and the logic. You know, I'd love to think that all things coexist. But with these SOME in the midst....who in fact yearn to look at the grand masterpieces of my literary works, stage a ywan instead of a fawn which apparently is eating away their very insides..

"It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock

The meat it feeds on"

Truly, Shakespeare could never be more right. Eat your hearts out dear monsters!

Great! I've totally deviated from my cause. So where was I? Oh right so I was bellowing for Marlowe's tome to be in my possesion. I got it. From Kino. I chanced upon it as I was foraging for a literary gospel. It is truly like Manna from heaven. Whats more is that I found my literary gospel the next day at another place. Then again, exams are drawing near, very near to be precise. Cheese and whiskers! How in the world am I gonna read all of them? You see, this is what happens when I fail to pause and make peace with my aimlessly wandering thoughts. Think rat think.

Sebastian was 'kind' enough to give me & saranya sparrow ricardo 2 tickets to the S'pore Fashion Festival. I cant help but laugh when he actually wanted to use a fake German accent into luring the tourism board to give him tickets under the pretext of a foreigner. Apparently it was the last day of the SFF so you can practically envision the place teeming with hordes of people. Lucky us, (maybe its my charm Ms sparrow)... haha.. Natasha & crew were there, and plus among the first. So how very fortunate of us to pounce into the queue.

Once i get hold of the pics, I'll upload them.

Oh great time's running out. Before I plunge into the vast oceans of Milton's paradise, I have to say Kipling monkey is hawt! haha only sparrow ricardo will know what im talkin about. Till then, adios amigos!

a clandestine affair;
6:48 PM