been thinking if i enjoy living on my own
yes and no
but i think yes. i would want to get my own place if i could in the near future
i would have to live overseas for that but it would be pretty great i think
but i would miss my parents so much. i don't like missing them
i don't like missing Gus

two nights ago i went over to janine's apartment near the gare
5 girls live there
they cooked dinner for me and it was asian and it was great
so thankful
they made their couch a bed for me to sleepover and it was fun
i want to go back soon

been working on my french because i realised i don't have much time left
also because i have french exams coming up soon

snowboarding this weekend
i want to be really good but there just isn't enough time
if i enjoy it enough maybe i will go back to singapore later
just to have some time on the mountains

whatever it is: 9 days until Gus is here
i'm so excited my heart flutters just thinking about it
and the phrase 'can't wait' quadruples in significance
feel like my whole body is a neon sign flashing 'can't wait'

i can't

slippery sloping


never underestimate what you can do
when you don't believe in yourself

i understand my worst enemy is myself
but still i stand here, hands tied
bruised and battered
but ready for the punches, yet again

their ripples are touching you, aren't they?
or at least, they're coming soon
get up, dry off, leave this place

no. but don't leave me.
is it selfish to ask you to embrace them?

i sat on a boat in the river that wasn't flowing
because i wanted to find you
and the water seemed to understand because it was capable of
drowning things, concealing them under its feet. a good place to hide.
i looked into its murky depths and finally, there you were,
holding your breath on the riverbed, your eyes shining

you were so beautiful
but we both knew that i would drown trying to get to you
before i could touch you i would be
more than the fair share of water a human should be

if you cried watching this from below
i wouldn't be able to tell

i decide not to try and go home
i am not sure you're worth all that

bruges, belgium

real life fairytale landscape
difficult to describe
so many swans

where i learned to love beer
drinking beer every night now, don't reckon it's a good thing
paid check-in just to bring home bottles of belgian beer
but gus says it must be that i only fancy wheat beers or something
because i still can't take heinekens or tigers
but another beer that i really love is desperado which is not belgian
but belgian beers were equally superb

going to let everything go and just get out there
i can't stand this feeling anymore
the feeling of waiting and waiting
for what, i don't even know
but i know that as i sit here there's awful thoughts fermenting in my
fucking
mind

tomorrow is edinburgh
booked lots of tours and activities
quite excited but will be sad to miss gangnam style flash mob this saturday
looks pretty awesome
but i will be so happy to meet bert, i miss her so much

and who else i miss is Gus
but this time with even more intensity than i've ever felt while on exchange
il me manque -- i miss him, but in french it's more like

he is missing from me

and he is
and i hate it
and can i have him here now

please

i wish the type of fun i have in mind didn't have to include the 'friends' bit
thinking about that bad ass white guy who danced alone in butter factory the entire night
i want to be him

the worst feeling is
feeling like you finally have somewhere
something
b e l o n g i n g

only to realize nobody thought that but you

one day the tree said, i'm tired of standing
i'm not as strong as i look
and he bent his trunk and lay down on the forest bed
and saw the sky for the first time

9th nov - 12th nov 

off to Bruges, Belgium 

lazy to blog atm 

brighton #2

brighton (31 nov 2012): 

woke up when i wanted to 

took a bus to baker street for famous fish & chips in brighton 

had the cod & chips and it was crispy on the outside 

hot and tender on the inside 

and the chips were soggy just the way british fish & chips are meant to be 

the restaurant had simple tiled floors 

simple plastic furniture 

simple glass doors 

unsophisticated and unpretentious 

in the background the waitress told a couple a story about how her teenage son disobeyed her 

everybody was laughing 

after that i took a slow walk down to north laine 

the shops were interesting 

bought two second hand h&m tops for 1.50 pounds at a charity shop 

tried hats on in a shop called 'the mad hatter' 

flicked through vinyls at a shop called 'the wax factor' 

bought an old watch for 7 pounds from a shop (i forgot the name) 

checked out every used bookshop i could
some were very specialised and carried only, for example, books on art design and coffee table books
others, like the one in the picture, was exploding with all kinds of books, called 'rainbow books'
i was taken aback when i walked in. you have to tread with caution because
the books litter every possible pathway, strewn open, spines yawning
almost impossible to browse yet it is such a haven
two extra side rooms downstairs, equally disastrous
it was chaotic but it was inviting, you couldn't help but squat down and start sifting
the shop owner was a lovely old man who knew where things were in spite of the mess
he helped me locate some books i might be interested in
gave me recommendations of his favourite books which include one that i eventually bought
and am reading now, titled 'the end of the world news: an entertainment' by anthony burgess
author of 'a clockwork orange'
it's a very good read so far, i'm going back to it once done with my french homework

i told him one day i would like to set up something like his shop
'don't expect to get rich' he said
'ok' i said. 'i don't need that anyway'
he said, 'but it pays the bills'
'and you get so much time to read' i said
'a lot' he said

i told gus, i'll collect the books and you handle the business things
gus thinks it's a risky, almost futile business venture in singapore, a used bookshop
no market
i believe him but
that would be a good life i think, reading all the time
however, if i think about the good food i'd be sacrificing if i didn't have extra good food money
it makes me kinda sad
in recent years i have realized just how much i love food
especially asian food

at night i went to the 'theatre royal brighton'
it sounds french, putting of the adjective behind the noun
feel like it should be called 'royal theatre brighton' instead
at 6.45pm i bought reduced price tickets for a play called 'the sacred flame'
it was about a crippled man whose devoted nurse loves him
but he loves his wife
and one day he dies and the nurse suspects murder
it was a story about the line between love and pity
the duty of a profession and the obligation of morality
but also the dissolution of morality as observed by the crippled man's old mother
who asks, why must one person's set of morals be a standard for everybody else
and, if love fades in a marriage, what is one to do

i watched it through the white hairs of the generally elderly audience
but i enjoyed it thoroughly
i seldom watch plays
it is an adaptation of a play by the same name by william somerset
perhaps if i can get the book i can post some of the dialogue i enjoyed in the play

after that i walked to the bus stop amidst zombies, vampires, nuns, witches
(one girl, totally green, wicked-inspired, great effort)
took a slow walk home
watched QI on tv and fell asleep

still to blog about:
london
interlaken

cannot begin to describe how awesome brighton has been for me 

not sure if it's because i'm not with any friends 

forced to do things alone 

but it's beautiful, the freedom, in a beautiful place, i cannot describe 

the first day i woke up when i wanted 

went down to brighton pier (of course) and walked around 

bought fish&chips to take away and sat on an unused cart staring at the sea 

 

my lens cap fell between the boards and into the ocean 

'well it's gone now' a man said to me 

walked around all the gaudy, tacky rides that looked so fun 

rickety and simple and garish and beautiful 

smiled at a group of old women who were driving bumper cars 

the metallic structure of the abandoned West Pier was in the distance 

just huge pieces of metal left standing in the water, facing the wind 

and it was haunted and empty and sad and pitiful 

when dreams die i think they look like that, west pier 

walked down to the pebble beach and to the shoreline 

never been to a pebble beach before 

it was difficult to walk 

little kids were hurling pebbles as far as they could into the waves 

the wind was making me tear and sniff 

 

i sat down on the pebbles and looked at the sea 

took out my kindle and read 'sum: forty tales from the afterlife' by david eagleman which is a book i forgot i had, and found it an apt read to have

because everyone thinks brighton is where people go to die isn't it 

i don't see why it wouldn't be true, it's so lovely here