Strike down the deer
It hollows the heart
With every word we further part
The open face, the hidden chase
Does the hiding make them lies?
The shining fowl cries
Into a silent wood
All for the good
If we never hear of it, it didn’t happen.
Went to the Big Bad Wolf Book Sale. Despite the fact that my room is littered with small mountains of books, I still bought more. I couldn’t control myself. Not with books. Never! And I managed to get Bitter Seeds! The top was a bit ucky, but that’s okay. It was the only Bitter Seeds I found and I would have taken it even if a seal had drooled on the first ten pages.
My haul:
1. The Undrowned Child, Michelle Lovric (The blurb said ‘mermaids and venice’. So I bought it)
2. Heart-Shaped Box, Joe Hill (I’d heard about the book and it sounded creepy. Also the cover was nice)
3. The Unincorporated Man, Dani Kollin and Eytan Kollin (Read about it on a sci-fi list. They also had the Unincorporated War, but didn’t get that, just in case)
4. The Skull Beneath the Skin, P D James (I don’t remember if I’ve read this Cordelia Gray book, but I don’t really care. I love P D James)
5. Original Sin, P D James (Mum requested for Chris. Probably to prove that Dalgliesh is not as great as Morse. But that is, of course, impossible)
6. The Vesuvius Club, Mark Gatiss (This book is ridiculous. I borrowed it from the Singapore library ages ago, and I had to have it)
7. Bitter Seeds, Ian Tregillis (;,,,,,;)
8. Kraken, China Meiville (For Seth. It sounds interesting anyway, even though I couldn’t get past page three of the overpretentiously convoluted The City and The City)
9. Some Dragonship Book for Ben
10. Some Book of Useless Facts for Ben (That was the actual name of the book)
11. A Jamie Oliver cookbook for Seth’s mum
12. A Nigella cookbook for my mum/me
SIGH. And I only spent RM 130 (this ‘only’ is subjective, as I’m pretty broke. But for 12 books I think it’s freaking amazing).
For the past few days I’ve been sleeping at 2 and waking up at 7/7.30 to complete my assignments, freelancing and work work. And I still haven’t finished yet. The only relief I have is that I’ve completed my response paper on Measure for Measure. I feel like the empty carcass of a dolphin. Not sure why, but that’s how I feel.
Ah, sweet sleep. And sweet hours wasted with random internet surfing! How I have missed thee! Now I can go back to a some semblance of normality, especially after spending the last hour reading about Malaysian Dreamgirls season 1 after Seth mentioned that Cindy Tey, whom I saw at the Das Auto show, had won it. DID YOU KNOW EVERYONE THINKS SHE CHEATED? AND EVERYONE WANTED HANIS (who has an awesome blog, I love reading it) TO WIN? Where was I when all this drama was going down???? And they don’t have anymore MDG. MANNNNNNNNNNN. And if this was the Malaysian version of ANTM then…idk what to say. (also I cannot really say anything since I never watched it and know nothing about it) Except that Hanis is the only one who even resembles a model by a stone’s throw, and I think the only one who’s getting regular paying jobs? Maybe Jay too, she has that sort of face.
The rest of them just don’t have that face. You know what I mean? When you look at a model’s face, you can tell. This face will be transformed. But those faces don’t look particularly transformed. They look kind of lame. Sorry. Who am I to say anything anyway? I take crap photos all the time. But if you’re going to be a model, then at least some of your photos should look…alien…you know what I mean? Nobody wants a model that looks like the face in the mirror.
After class the other day I found myself doing a character analysis of the Duchess of Malfi from the Duchess of Malfi. Even though critics mostly feel sympathetic towards her since it’s not her fault her brothers are fucking mad, I thought she was stubborn and selfish
Then it hit me. I hadn’t bitched about a character from a tv series or movie in ages! Why? BECAUSE I HAVEN’T BEEN WATCHING ANY TV OR MOVIES FOR AGES (except for that one time watching Dylan Dog. Gawd I hated the chick in that. Fucking jailbait weirdo who doesn’t know how to pull her jacket onto her shoulder). I need to watch something. I must watch some regular tv. I need to read some rubbish. I want to go back to hating characters because I hate them instinctively, like I hated Mona Mayfair in The Blood Canticle. There’s no character analysis for Mona Mayfair because she has no redeeming qualities or ambiguity that form characterisation. She’s a straight-up pain in the ass. She reminds me so much of Miaka in Fushigi Yuugi. WHY DOES EVERYONE FIND HERÂ IRRESISTIBLE WHEN CLEARLY SHE SUCKS?
Ahhhhhhhhhhh. Let me find something to watch.
You fear my constancy, because you have approved those giddy and wild turnings in yourself
– Cardinal, The Duchess of Malfi.
I love you too 🙂
I went to Borders the other day with Seth. We found a book called Robopocalypse.
Me: Ro-bo-poke-olips. What kind of stupid book name is this?
Seth: Why? It’s about robots taking over the world, right?
Me: Yeah. But ROBO-POKO-LIPS? Sounds dumb.
Seth: It’s pronounced Robopocalypse.
Me: That’s what I said. ROBOPOKOLIPS. ROBOPOKOLIPS. ROBOPOKOLIPS.
Seth:…Are you retarded?
Me: As a writer and obviously superior human being I deem this title retarded. No one can pronounce it. The correct combination of robot and apocalypse should be Robocalypse.
I stand by my statement.
Sometimes when I feel extra smart or extra depressed I attempt to read philosophy. By philosophy I mean I go to the Wiki page for Slavoj Zizek or Hegelianism (are these even considered philosophy? Maybe I just mean whenever I try to expand my mind) and try to understand it.
At first reading it gives me a fuzzy feeling, like it’s so incredible that another human being has actually thought this whole thing through. But after awhile I just stop understanding. It’s as if my brain has reached it’s limit and is no longer able to comprehend. It’s as if I’ve reached the point where I will just never be able to grasp it. I used to think of this as my ‘threshold’ and tell myself that one day I will experience enough of life to understand what is being written. But it doesn’t change. I think maybe that is my limit, and I should just stick to things that I understand. Like Robot Unicorn Attack and Philip K Dick.
And sometimes I just find myself bored by it. Bored. And then I feel guilty (Catholic guilt? Hippie guilt? Pretentious intellectual guilt?), but it doesn’t last long. Who ask them to make it so boring? Cannot list it out in simple point form is it?
As an emotional human being with emotions and all that stuff, I am obliged to copy paste lyrics to songs that have touched me. Fortunately I have pretty good taste in music (in my own opinion). I’ll try not to post up weird stuff like Bat for Lashes although she is heavenly.
So what if you catch me,
Where would we land?
In somebody’s life
For taking his hands
Sing to me hope as she’s
Thrown on the sand
All of our work
Is rated again
And I was sure you’d follow through
The world was turned to blue(so fair)
When you’d hide your songs would die
So I’d hide yours with mine
All my words were bound to fail
But I know you won’t fail
– Fair, Remy Zero (yeah, that Smallville band. would you turn down that amount of money to not be associated with a primetime lameass tv series? yeah, I thought so. screw artistic integrity man)
I don’t think you even need to ask what the problem with harem pants is. Have you seen harem pants? The only question I have here is why are they called harem pants? The word harem evokes beautiful exotic women with voluminous, semi-transparent pieces of clothing, not someone with their crotch halfway down their legs.
No, wait, I have another question. WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT THEIR CROTCH AT THE SAME AREA AS THEIR KNEES? I don’t care if it’s not your real crotch, everyone knows where your real crotch is, so you’re obviously not doing it for the mystery. You’re doing it because of reasons I don’t understand.
There is nothing attractive about a fallen crotch. Not the last time I checked, which was never, because I had never had any reason to wonder about FALLEN CROTCHES. Oh my god, I feel irreversibly tainted just typing that sentence. Goddamn. Screw you   harempants.
I’d rather chew off my own ear.
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