Process

Rag draft concept, 26 May, 2010

Candy Land : The Great RAG Adventure

Characters:

Gingerbread Jib, Mr/Lord Licorice, Candyland Citizens, Licorice army, Candy princesses

Float Concept:

Giant magical castle of Candy land, Gumdrop mountains, Peppermint Forest

Scene 1: (Gumdrop mountains, outside Candy Land)

Mr Licorice trudges on along the beaten path, toward the yonder wilderness. His aimless eyes stare on into the bleak void of the ever obscuring distance, as each shuffle of his laden footstep takes him a step further from the majestic candy gates of Candy Land, a place he once called home; but now no longer. Narration has it that Mr Licorice had left because he was no longer able to tolerate the state’s perception induced prejudice toward licorice, and its general un-acceptance of his licorice consuming ways. A state-wide poll had revealed that only 0.5% of the population stood in favour of Licorice as opposed to Candy, and Mr Licorice wholly represented that 0.5%. . His head hung low, neither in shame nor contrition, but rather in disappointment; along with a dangerous stew of brewing resentment and vexation.

Suddenly, he trips over an irregular protrusion from the ground / spots a bright shiny object in the periphery of his vision. Groaning while recovering from the ground / pausing and peering over to scrutinise its form, he realised that it was an awesome crown, half embedded within (something). Bemused, he picked it up and placed it over his head, only to be overwhelmed by a surge of power flowing through his body. The awesome power transformed even his shabby coat into a sinister looking cloak. The clear sky became overshadowed, and menacing gusts were rushing in and around him, which somehow resembled fire extinguisher emissions. He raised his hands, and an evil smirk spread across his face, “nice..... >:D”. Empowered for vengeance, he (a) snapped his fingers, and a mindless villainous trolley squeaked and rolled into place. He stepped aboard and was skated off the scene, (b) ran off the scene, his evil laughter trailing in his wake.

Scene 2: (Candy Land Castle backdrop)

Gingerbread boy Jib had travelled the Rainbow road in search of the annual Sweet Celebration, when he stumbled upon the marvellous candy gates of Candy Land. With his touristy outfit and trusty harvest sack, he entered through and was very warmly received by the locals. They were excited to have a visitor and were intrigued by his part flour part sugar physique. They scurried to have his harvest sack and excessive tourist loads removed. The Candy Land citizens comprised of assorted candies, as well as the very pretty candy princesses, and together they showed Jib around. They danced and sang in jubilee, and even the magical castle moved and grooved along. Suddenly, they realised that something was amiss: the Candy Land Castle behind them was changing. Shades of sinister black were forming over the brightly coloured hues of the Candy Castle at a gradual but very constant rate. Much murmuring broke out between the Candies, along with much pointing and gesture exchanges between them worried faces.

Scene 3: (Candy Castle, [turning to the] evil side)

Suddenly, LORD Licorice burst forth into the scene, (riding on his trolley?), with his minion of (to be decided by the costumes team). Some of the Candy mates scream and scamper away, while the rest cower and retreat towards the backdrop. Some of them just stone in shock and confusion and have to be pulled away. LORD Licorice had returned with a vengeance, armed with a vow to turn the brightly coloured Candy Land into a licorice hued expanse. They do a war dance, and halfway through / at the start, he lets off an evil laugh, and at the wave of his hand, the entire Candy Castle turned evil in an instant. With the wave of his other hand, licorice vines crept out and entangled the castle. . His evil licorice aura was not only changing the castle, but black licorice spots were appearing on the candy mates as well! They panicked and struggled to have the spots rubbed off.

He issues for an order to have the candy mates captured, and a scuffle ensues (in dance form, with a very graceful clash of colours and organized confusion, I personally think it’d involve more capturing and evading rather than 2 sided aggression). The candy mates became quickly subdued and captured by the licorice army, except for Gingerbread Jib and a few surviving candies who found concealment somewhere in the backdrop beside a tree/bushes/something. The gigantic candy gates open, and a giant ramp is lowered, bridging the chocolate moat (?), and LORD Licorice steps up to the platform, orchestrating his attack, and letting off evil laughs once in awhile. Cock-eyed as he is, while looking to the sky and laughing, he is unable to spot Gingerbread Jib and his team below him.

Noticing this, Gingerbread Jib seized the opportunity to rally his remaining survivors against the nefarious LORD Licorice. He stood up, and proposed a plan to his fellow comrades. They proceeded to create a contraption that would help them defeat LORD Licorice, and chckhcktingtingpiak within seconds it was done. One of them raises up the contraption in celebration when it was completed and behold, a (self extending toy tweezer / giant vacuum cleaner / gigantic fan / hooked candy cane)! Gingerbread Jib jumps out of concealment and runs into centre stage, and points a finger at LORD Licorice in a very defiant manner. LORD Licorice sees this as a challenge, and steps down to accept the fight. His army moves aside so as not to obstruct him. Gingerbread Jib has thus effectively created a distraction, and the rebellion plan is set into action. His candy mate comrades sneak out of concealment, two of them squat to form an elevated platform for the third, who steps on top and uses the tweezer/candycane/whatever contraption to remove the crown off LORD Licorice’s head.

LORD Licorice was absolutely caught by surprised, and turns around in shock, stunned. The candy mates throw the crown to Jib, who catches it and wears it. The licorice army, now under the control of Jib, turn their gaze towards Mr Licorice, now powerless, helpless. A candy kid jumps out and points off stage with a pout, signalling that he leaves. Mr Licorice quietly abides, and solemnly walks off.

Scene 4: (Candy land back to good, and even more exuberant than usual, plus nicely decorated licorice-inspired designs)

Just as he takes a few steps away, Gingerbread Jib grabs him by his shoulders. He turns around, expecting to be captured, but Jib, now empowered, waves his hand and the Candy Castle returns to its glorious former appearance. Jib looks at Licorice, as though to say “look”, then he waves his hand again, and this time Licorice incorporated designs pop out of the castle as well. He turns back toward Licorice with a warm smile, and Licorice immediately understands the significance of this gesture: We can happily co-exist in mutual respect. (This wasn’t decided but I think Jib should remove and break the crown into half somewhere). They hug and everyone is happy, and the candy mates run out again, interacting with the licorice dudes. They all do a happy mass dance and co-exist happily ever after.

Overdue Account

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Wednesday 8 Oct 2008 12.19pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Overdue account

Dear David,

Our records indicate that your account is overdue by the amount of $233.95. If you have already made this payment please contact us within the next 7 days to confirm payment has been applied to your account and is no longer outstanding.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

From: David Thorne
Date: Wednesday 8 Oct 2008 12.37pm
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Re: Overdue account

Dear Jane,

I do not have any money so am sending you this drawing I did of a spider instead. I value the drawing at $233.95 so trust that this settles the matter.

Regards, David.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Thursday 9 Oct 2008 10.07am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Overdue account

Dear David,

Thankyou for contacting us. Unfortunately we are unable to accept drawings as payment and your account remains in arrears of $233.95. Please contact us within the next 7 days to confirm payment has been applied to your account and is no longer outstanding.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 9 Oct 2008 10.32am
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Re: Overdue account

Dear Jane,

Can I have my drawing of a spider back then please.

Regards, David.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Thursday 9 Oct 2008 11.42am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Overdue account

Dear David,

You emailed the drawing to me. Do you want me to email it back to you?

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles
From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 9 Oct 2008 11.56am
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Overdue account

Dear Jane,

Yes please.

Regards, David.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Thursday 9 Oct 2008 12.14pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Overdue account

Attached

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 10 Oct 2008 09.22am
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Whose spider is that?

Dear Jane,

Are you sure this drawing of a spider is the one I sent you? This spider only has seven legs and I do not feel I would have made such an elementary mistake when I drew it.

Regards, David.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Friday 10 Oct 2008 11.03am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Whose spider is that?

Dear David,

Yes it is the same drawing. I copied and pasted it from the email you sent me on the 8th. David your account is still overdue by the amount of $233.95.
Please make this payment as soon as possible.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 10 Oct 2008 11.05am
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Automated Out of Office Response

Thankyou for contacting me.
I am currently away on leave, traveling through time and will be returning last week.

Regards, David.

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 10 Oct 2008 11.08am
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Re: Re: Whose spider is that?

Hello, I am back and have read through your emails and accept that despite missing a leg, that drawing of a spider may indeed be the one I sent you. I realise with hindsight that it is possible you rejected the drawing of a spider due to this obvious limb ommission but did not point it out in an effort to avoid hurting my feelings. As such, I am sending you a revised drawing with the correct number of legs as full payment for any amount outstanding. I trust this will bring the matter to a conclusion.

Regards, David.


From: Jane Gilles
Date: Monday 13 Oct 2008 2.51pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Whose spider is that?

Dear David,

As I have stated, we do not accept drawings in lei of money for accounts outstanding. We accept cheque, bank cheque, money order or cash. Please make a payment this week to avoid incurring any additional fees.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 13 Oct 2008 3.17pm
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Whose spider is that?

I understand and will definitely make a payment this week if I remember. As you have not accepted my second drawing as payment, please return the drawing to me as soon as possible. It was silly of me to assume I could provide you with something of completely no value whatsoever, waste your time and then attach such a large amount to it.

Regards, David.

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Tuesday 14 Oct 2008 11.18am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Whose spider is that?

Attached

It's the packaging

Here's an article I stumbled upon:

Why white guys are attracted to Asian women

"There is, in fact, one primary reason that white guys (and no doubt Asian and black guys too)are attracted to Asian girls.

It's the packaging. The package, and the stereotypes conveyed by the package are what hold the appeal.

They're generally slim, and that means slim all over. You seldom see an Asian girl who's top-heavy, or bottom heavy, or particularly curved in any way.

The shape and angle of their eyes produces an illusion of flirtatiousness and subservience - they are permanently, whether they choose to or not, looking from beneath lashes

The shape of their face tends to to be rounded, with taut skin, and their features tend to be small and delicate within that rounded frame - to the extent of being doll-like, when cosmetics are used to emphasise.

They are petite. You are not going to find an Asian girl who towers over anyone.

They tend to have high, even fluting, voices.

What this adds up to is an overall impression of being childlike, not in a way that calls to a pedophile response, particularly; because they are usually clearly adult, but in a way that stimulates the natural/socialised response of a "strong" male to protect what is apparently fragile. An Asian girl may be hard as nails - just like her caucasian counterpart - but her combination of size, smooth skin, slimness, upward glance and childlike voice will make her present as intensely "feminine" in the old damsel in distress fashion, right before she beats the shit out of you on the judo mat. This is especially true, of course, in girls raised within Asian cultures, which emphasise specifically feminine behaviours for women, but is also evident in Asian girls raised in Western traditions.

This is not meant as any kind of derogatory judgment of men, or Asian girls, but an analysis of the artifice of nature. The physical peculiarities of the young Asian female are such that she tends to present to men partly as a little girl - and nothing is more guaranteed to arouse a tender, protective response than a girl-child -- and partly as a flirt, sexually available and challenging but ultimately non-threatening. It's hardly surprising, then, that men are attracted.

You'll note that throughout, I've used the word "girl", rather than "woman". This is because with age, the particular attraction of Asian over other races of women fades fast. When the illusion of childishness disappears, so does the intense aura of femininity, slimness becomes gauntness and tendency to lack curves can often lead to an almost genderless appearance in middle-age and beyond, where other races of women retain a greater level of feminine allure (Yoko Ono, as compared to Susan Sarandon, for example).

Oolong reminds me that I should specify that I'm speaking of East Asian women in this write up. He's right, I should. "

Source

Which is why no caucasians for me hahaha. Unless they're like Jamie Sullivan a-walk-to-remember. Speaking of which, WA I feel like watching it again!

Architect

never to be

I received my grades on Monday, 31st May, the very day I had to make my decision. They were not too bad (surprisingly good actually), an A for architectural construction, a B+ for climate responsive architecture, and a B- for biophysical environment (considering that I missed a tutorial which constituted 12.5%). My design was C+, which didn't come as a surprise. I had ponned so many tutorials anyway, until my tutor refused to grade my final crit presentation. Sigh. (I apologized after term ended anyway and we laughed and all was good)

I was actually hoping that my grades would be bad enough, such that they could assuage my dilemma to an extent where I can say "oh well, even if I want to stay, I can't live with such grades". I schemed to have them left to die, but no, they gleefully returned. They hopped out of my sms and onto my lap, and with a smile of blissful ignorance they looked up at me and exclaimed: "Heyy Xuan! How have you beennn, don't worry bout us we're still doing very fine (: Where did you go! You disappeared for awhile so we been a little affected, but naw anyway, look at us aren't you proud of us! heehee :D"

My heart melted, and I hugged all of them "of course I am so proud of you guys! (: Aww c'mon! You guys are my babies". I tried to smile, but it couldn't last, guilt was bearing down on me. Soon, my head was hung low in shame.

I thought they didn't know, but I was wrong. With his tiny feet, C+ came tottering over to me, and tugged at my shirt. I looked at him, and he was still beaming so radiantly, even though he was the shabbiest, and the most beat-up among the rest (thanks to my neglect for Design assignments). He patted my hand and said: "Hey Xuan, don't worry we understand what you're going through, but don't worry. I could have easily been "D"ead, but I'm not. You know why? Because we are your results, and because you never fail. I was an "A" once when you still cared about me, and you will always have the capacity to change us. So don't worry naw, we'd always support you where ever you go. We believe in you (:"

"Thank you so much guys...", I patted their heads, and they began to fade away as they waved good bye.

Once again, I was left with me and myself, and reality. Putting all humility and whatever-consciousness aside, I unabashedly say: "Hey, I think I'm really cut out for archi, I have the potential to excel here, no really."

But I'm transferring out.

So, what's the problem now? I've asked myself countless times, why wouldn't architecture be the course for me?

First I'd remind myself why architecture: It's a professional degree, it has prospects. I'm doing well in it. I take pride in my designs. It is a really meaningful profession. The pay is good. Green architecture is really awesome. I could help save the world. 5 years isn't too long. I love archicon. I love creative problem solving and this is what architecture is all about.

And then, I'd always come up with reasons why not: what I like is art, and architecture is not art. Art is personal, liberal, architecture is not. I design for myself. I hate conformity. I can't stand designing for other people, fulfilling clients' requests, or obeying and dutifully materializing out my boss's design, cos after all, they are all not MINE. I don't like the idea of having to stare at black autocad screens (as if excel spreadsheets are any better) all day long, or work long hours, having to change or alter designs based on the whim and fancy of my client/boss right up till the deadline. I lack the passion and I will never be able to dedicate every minute of my day thinking about my design and how I can improve on it. Without this passion, I'd go nowhere. I never had an interest in buildings anyway (actually it's growing). The pedagogy is so bullshit I'm not learning anything out of it (true but I think we're supposed to acquire them ourselves through books), and the assignments are all rubbish I don't see what I'm supposed to gain out of them (It'd get less fluffy and more practical in the later years, or at least I hope). There are so many terrible architecture around seriously, I'm losing faith in this profession. (I can be one of the better ones). The list goes on but it's getting late I'd stop.

As I pondered, there would always be these bubbles of thoughts popping out which disagree with my disagreements with architecture, and they are as stated above, enclosed within brackets. Thus, I was never thoroughly convinced of my decision to leave. I felt as though I was running away from something.

Hours before I clicked that dreadful button, I interrogated myself over and over again; all fruitless. Then I realized I had been missing the salient question:

"What is the real reason I want to leave?"

I finally confessed: it's because I'm lazy. Because I want assignments that I can finish in a jiffy and get them done and over with. Because I want assignments that are definite, that have an end point that isn't the deadline. Because I am too lazy to spend time thinking about designs and architecture. Because I'd rather spend the time doing all the other things that I love doing. Of course, architecture will never be my main priority, and that is the biggest problem in itself: Passion and commitment are the core requisites that this course/profession demands, and I will never be able to fulfill them. It isn't hard, to just sit down on my table and start doodling or dreaming out concepts for my models. But because it's so intangible and formless, I just can't bring myself to start. Design's a tiring process, which is why I dread it. I'd rather take the simpler path out, I am just terribly LAZY.


_____________________________________________



The deadline's over. I've clicked that button.

Now, what's left to think about? Plenty. Should I? No. I've learned.
Retrospection is never pleasant, besides revealing burdens of the past, there is never much to be gained. All these self stirring digs up regrets, and I will only find within these, greater barriers to acceptance. Neither will I find happiness, because happiness flees the instance it is sought. You pause, and you think, and before you can even form the words "am I happy?" in your head, it's gone.

Move on pal. Leave the heartache for another day. Leave it for the day it hits.

Involuntarily. Inevitably.

When the stars go blue

I'm an architecture student

I should say, while I can.

I had a dream one night, about a month back during the study week. I was in school, when I received an envelope. I tore off its seal, and enclosed were my application results. "Rejected," it read. Troubled, agonized, "why??", I was pacing around school with my laptop, scouring the school website for any confirmation that would state otherwise. I bumped into some of my archi friends along the way. I explained my predicament, and they responded with sincere concern. "Harrr..". He said: "nevermind lar you still have us yay".

I awoke the next morning with a deeply furrowed countenance. A queer sour sensation was stirring within my chest, and my heart pulsations felt more pronounced than usual. My eyes weren't the usual moist either. The dream bothered me, so I sat on my bed for a moment, pondering. It didn't help, and I was still confused, after all I had already spent 3 years wondering if architecture was good for me. All I knew then was that, given the circumstance, whatever time I had left with the guys shouldn't be neglected and thrown to waste, but rather be conscientiously wrapped up and shelved neatly into the archive of treasured memories. With that in mind, I headed to school to study with a dear friend.

Few weeks on I had an interview for ntu accounts, which went pretty well. The interviewer actually said "you know what, I actually like you a lot. I am going to give you the course now", so I was like "hahahah okay I take". So there, there isn't anything else in the way.. except for me and my head.

I walked out of the interview room, beaming with pride and satisfaction. Just for the interview I had gone shopping for black business pants and slim fit zara shirts the day before. Just this morning today I spent half a day reading parts of a 5cm thick manual titled "Accounting: the language of Business".

What's this excitement that fills me while slipping on executive shirts and overalls? What's this very unusual zeal I have that causes me to read up or even read at all? All these actions I don't understand, and I cannot validate them. There's this lingering "what-if" floating around that I suppose I can never find an answer to, and it'd most certainly bug me for life, just whether or not I choose to entertain it. Sure, Accountancy's a bright path, logically undisputed. Does it truly reflect what I desire? Maybe. Maybe not, and maybe I'm just a fool in denial, convinced that I am thinking for myself, when in actual fact I'm merely making decisions based on the Xuan that I wish to be, that I am not. Have I been living a farce?

Sickening, all these dreary maybe's. Life would be simpler if there weren't no mental faculty for meta cognition, but it's innate and I can't help but think, so bear with me.

Perhaps there is much to be contrite about, that maybe I'm just another pathetic statistic of the Singapore-syndrome demographic. Practicality-driven drones as we are, enslaved to the vicious cycle of ever ascending achievements. From where does happiness derive for these people? (us?) Not from the simple pleasures of being able to marvel at the work of our hands, of being able to admire up and down and 10 times over, the architectural masterpiece as materialized from the blueprints painstakingly laid through days and nights of geometric lines and black autocad screens. Not from the thrill of walking into a room, decorated with a perfect composition of harmonious colors, and then proudly explaining to your friends how x and y exist z degrees apart within the color wheel thus birthing their complementary co-existence. Not from the gratifying sensation of running your fingertips along the textured walls of the corridor as you have chosen them to be, or of seeing how your part fits into the whole and then witnessing and exclaiming at how awesomely the glorious whole turns up, more than the sum of its parts.

Not.

This satisfaction stems from pride and achievement. Promotions, burgeoning payrolls, parking lots with inscribed vehicle registration numbers; to excel they strive.

So, which is more meaningful?
Yeah, it's a pity.

Perhaps, my mindset is fundamentally not so different from the very elitists that I despise. Someone tell me that it's fine.

I envy.

Architectural students shouldn't be pitied for their miserable notions of Life (if any at all), because there's much to envy if you think about it. The camaraderie and friendships, forged through countless hours of working together, getting tired together, stay overs and deadline rushes are experiences that I will never be able to enjoy, because I dread Design and studio. I mean, where else does such a community exist in university life. The dedication they pour into their works, and the passion that costs them their sleep, are traits that I'd never be able to summon. They have that fire that burns in their eyes when they build them models, it's so powerful it's scary, and yet inspiring. They complain just as much, but you can tell that they really want to do it. You can tell that I really don't, but I really wish I could say I do. The joy and satisfaction of staring lifelessly at the finally completed model after nights of slogging; it's priceless, and I'm really glad that I was at least able to enjoy that. People who chase their passions, I envy.


This path that I'm walking, I must go alone


as Fergie sings it. Indeed.

It'd be sad, but I think I've been hit hard enough by too many departures to be much affected by this one. It numbs. I hope. Sometimes I wonder if I'd be missed should I really disappear next sem, and then my brain tells me "you think?! you don't even work in studio".

Sigh :(

A friend told me that if I could remember my dreams, they wouldn't come true. If that were true, it'd hardly involve a choice, after all how is it possible to forget a dream like that. Heart wrenching, but a conclusion at least. Shyt.

你读了吗？

勤奋读书背手稿，
快快乐乐不烦恼.
迟睡早起身体好,
头发乱乱很时髦.
当天早餐吃饱饱，
心情愉快进去考.
落花流水/难不倒？
只要考完了就好！

轩日

Whoa my Chinese be awesomes :D

*clapclap*

the promise

永久に愛 の約束


(:


When I'm supposed to be rushing models instead.

Haengbok, Shiawase (:

Just watched Virgin Snow (Hatsuyuki no koi), a korean/jap show staring Lee Ju.nki and Aoi Miya.zaki. Niceeeeeeeeeeee and sweeeett. Waa it's like two awesome actors + both of my favorite cultures combined into one movie. It's another "Weixuan recommends!", alongside "Be With You".


Argh I should really stop watching these kinda shows, they don't happen in real life. Maybe the sweet fateful coincidences, but maybe not so 3 of them in a row, and definitely not the background music.

"Ame.." / "Bi.."


I'd get to write my own story someday. Soon please.

Shiawase wo machiwabite. Akirame nai de, gambatte na.


My Japanese cousins arrived in Singapore today. Went over to visit them when school ended. School was a mad rush today, a 3 hour design assignment worth 30%. 3 hours for precedent studies, climate comparison, thinking, re-designing, writing and drawing to fill up an A1, not quite enough.

Anyway, she brought back the pink little booklet I drew on for her in Japan last time, so that I can draw more for her. In exchange, she said she'd teach me more Japanese. hahahah, damn cute. Good deal though. I managed to draw 3 drawings for her, within like, half an hour, which is like pretty damn fast for me hahahah I'm so proud of myself. In turn, she taught me how to describe the drawings. I borrowed the book back to scan, I'd upload them for you guys to see soon.

After tonight's dvd, I roughly know what kinda theme I'd be sticking by for the next few drawings. hahaha.

They'd only be staying till next Fri though, so, can't spend much time with them. Wish I could visit them more but time is tight. It's very tight in fact, with 3 major datelines next week, a performance for some chingay thing this Sat, and dancesport nationals next Sat. Malaysian nationals 2 weeks later, and then exams right after that.

But, I'd like to finish up my incomplete "flower garden"/"progress" drawing before they leave. It's supposed to be a surprise gift, but it's been on hiatus for wayy too long. And, I'd probably pon a day of school to company them out to play.


Now for a dose of incoherent whimsicalities:

I want to go Japan during my long hols, when the Sakuras are still in bloom.
And then find myself a Japanese girlfriend.
Or I might drop by Korea to do just that.
The next time I visit these places, I'd dig out their street culture enclaves, and battle their bboys. Then, I'd be assimilated into their group, make new friends, and find a bgirlfriend naisee.
I want a shiny new bass, and the new Boss multi-effects pedal.
I want my bird to stop mimicking weird noises now at 4am. Makes me wonder, what on earth has she been listening to while we aren't around.
I want a pen that can make my drawings come to life.
I want my shoulder to stay in place.


Btw, thanks much dear friends. 22nd was awesome thanks to all of you (: I was really awesomely happy. Makes me feel like celebrating it every Friday, so that i can invite you guys down again. Looking forward to 23!

Oh ya I am now on like, twitter. hahaha you can find me there

Butterfly dusts

Saw this on some forum, hahah quite interesting.


A butterfly descends on my finger, and I reach out with my other hand to caress it, ever so gently, only to have it fluttering away the moment I touch it.

It flitters away to the neighboring meadow, and skims along the undulating carpet of wild flowers and dandelions, dyed a beautiful golden by the warmth and essence of the weary setting sun. It lingers for awhile longer, as if to check if I were following, before finally disappearing into the glare of the horizon.

I am left standing, hand outreached, squinting into the distant landscape. Bemused? with a tinge of despondence.

The butterfly has disappeared, just as all the butterflies before it have. But as with every passing butterfly that has visited, specks of shimmery dusts were left behind, rubbed off from that one stroke. They call it butterfly powder. Alluring, enchanting, intriguing.

Each butterfly is unique, each with its own magic. I lift up my finger to inspect the remnant dust, oh how they glisten under the evening sun. I bring my finger to my nose, and I breathe them in.

I turn, and stroll back towards the solitude of my shelter, a wry smile breaks forth from the corner of my lips.

Butterfly dust nourishes, it catalyzes growth, it engenders change. What was strength to the butterfly is now strength for me.

The dust is at work, I've acquired something new yet again. I am different.

Butterflies change me, and with each encounter, I am a step closer to becoming the Butterfly Man.




Wurtt???

Errrrrrr. Never mind. hahahah.
It's my 4am cryptic partial-sanity.

Pull up

Grab the flight consoles, and pull up now, cause we're going to crash, and it's gonna burn real bad.

Wake up.

It's not worth it, you deserve better. Times have changed, the weather is as bleak as it can get. Pellets of hail pelt the plane, and a rocky cliff face looms right ahead. The pilot isn't dumb or visually impaired is he.

Find yourself, know your worth. It's time to break away.
Steer thy course, find your way,
return to the clear of day.

Determination itself knows no bounds,
but this is as far as dignity would have you go.

So, turn back now, don't lose sight of yourself.