dantedirenc


THE BOX.

i use it to store my wealth.


the lack of subject
dantedirenc
Dante does not want to see a Bible again in a very long time - it for her only symbolises the complete and utter failings of the humans who try to carry its instructions out. Away.
It's not you, of course your tantrums are very hard for me to bear (among quite a few other people whose names I will not disclose), but the book.

You very simply do not leave a Bible, or its derivatives (in this case for me the Manga Messiah) in the room of a person who has very recently renounced her faith - it is like leaving a large tub of salt in the apartment of a slug, or giving an ant a pet lizard, or demanding that a mouse allow a cat to reside in its household. It is not done.

You scolded me, chastised my religion when I was a Christian. When I believed that perhaps this sad delusion could become a reality. Of course now I see that the people in it are far too unintelligent, narrow-minded and obedient to carry it out, so I renounced my beliefs. Back in the day, what did you tell me?
Go and tell your God to go to hell.
Can deal, can deal.
Screw Fedora, screw all your church mates, they're not helping you, they're your fair-weathered friends.
Can deal, can deal.
I scored myself that day after arguing with you over the phone in the middle of Chinese class and having my handphone taken from me. I remember distinctly, taking up the metal tip of the mechanical pencil. I don't know where I found that strength, but blood was drawn, and drawn quickly. I remember using my Chinese worksheet to clean the bloodstains - wasn't like I was going to pass the fucking thing anyway.
I spent half the day in counselling. Of course it took me nowhere - I still had to go home and face you.
It wouldn't be home if Mummy wasn't there.
And now, now that I renounce all semblance of the Christian faith, wouldn't mind wearing a couple pentacles or perhaps an inverted cross at that, you come, and you dump this...graphic novel of Our Great Lord Jesus Christ in my apartment, and throw a fit when I refuse to accept it.
It's okay that my brother doesn't want to; something is very very wrong if I don't. My apartment is not a dumping ground, you tell me, so neither is your house. And I cannot "dump my books" at your house any longer?
Your logic is evidently flawed. Damned if I do, damned if I don't, make up your fucking mind.
It's not the action. It's the article. It's not your putting it at my place. I saw the Shogi book (my second copy) you left at my place, I can deal with it. I cannot live with seeing a holy book in my apartment any longer. And if you cannot respect that, then please dispose of it yourself.

I took great pains to not call Albert House "home" last year. It's not difficult to guess why - there was nothing, really, to return to. Every time people asked me where I was going, I'd say, "I'm going to Albert House". I was never "going home" until I was returning to Singapore (to face you, but Mummy was there, so everything was fine). Once she told me, when I left to start the third term of Trinity, that I was going home. I nearly cried, and I told her "This is home!".
I still feel that way about Albert House. College Square may be different.

But this is home now. Tonight and for the next two days, it will be. Then it'll go back to being just an apartment, but it will be my apartment. And it is one that will be free of the influences you force on me.

I know with a great sadness that no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I'll never measure up to you. You'll never be "my father", I'll always be "his daughter" and nothing more than that.
I walk like you, even without thinking. Sometimes I even talk like you. I hate it. I hate it all. But I can't get rid of it, and so I have to remain, subordinate to you, the Knave of Hearts to the Queen of Hearts, for ever. My thoughts are, in the end, your thoughts. My actions are, in the end, your actions. I hate it all. But I'm chained to you, and the key's thrown away. It got absorbed into the genetic code, and there's no way to get rid of it no matter how hard I try. I despise the fact that I inherited your "good genes". They've brought me nothing but misery in the end. I'll never be anything more than I am now, or perhaps even less, because I'm less than you.

"Two high achievers in the same house," I heard. Lies. I'll be a high achiever in comparison to the mental institution, or the autistic school. Scratch that, I'm not even sure about the autistic school - I hear they're mathematical and artistic geniuses, the lot of them.

And perhaps that's why I hate you. I'm not jealous of you any longer - I'm simply coming to terms with the fact that I'll never be more than you'll ever be. Or anyone around me, at that. I wasn't kidding when I said I was studying to become a Big Issue seller. I never lied to anyone. I never lied when I said that I would never grow up to be anything of any substance, I meant every word of it. Already I refer to myself as being completely useless, and I believe every word of that, whether or not anyone else thinks it's true. There's nothing for me to consider my own. Nothing is mine. Everything will disappear. Everything that I do will be swiftly polished off by someone else, so I figure do nothing and save yourself the trouble. And I know you'll polish off everything I do, so I'm not even going to try.
I always preferred handing in a blank worksheet and failing, to spending time writing out answers and failing, it saves us all time and effort. Easier for the teachers to put a large question mark across the page and save red pen ink, than for them to actually look through the answers and tediously put crosses on all of them (maybe a sympathy tick for the slightest flow of logic), and to helpfully put a big red 0 (or a 0.5 if they're feeling merciful) at the end of the paper.

One day, I will have a cupboard full of trophies.
And all of them will be silver in colour. Some bronze, but mostly silver.

It has become apparent that without even trying I'm actually a politician...
dantedirenc
Today we had to write a postmodern poem based on images we were given in class. What. Apparently "first idea = best idea", but I don't happen to roll that way and like building things so they can, like, fit.

"await my dish, i will, for it will no doubt be better than theirs.
tomorrow, we will fail to understand each other, as the walls build up and obscure the heavens.
sky, or sea, or mercury, ascension is to go southwards.
dragons are people, and many of them at that.
i know i want to, but urban life is delicious
decay, degenerate, progress is so desirable.
sear the wood, watch the dust fly, fly and rise.
greatness is rising above the drums and using your head."

the long boring analysis goes here.Collapse )I think I'll look forward to CW tutes from now on, this being my first one. I don't much like the lectures, I'll admit, but the tutes are fun.
Also finally I've met people I can talk to in class! Mainly because we all talk about cons and things. XD Anime is an awesome bonding energy, it seems. I wonder what'll happen in Sociology tomorrow! *excited*
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the lack of subject
dantedirenc
An apology.

That was all I wanted to give, walking away from that facility. To leave him there was a fate worse than; no, it was death itself. I wanted to apologise, not just for sending him away like this. Verily, for his potential, for what he could have given to me, to people around me, perhaps even to the world…this was truly an undignified send-off. This was a valediction that did him no justice, no justice at all.

I’d met him only about five days ago. He was very light, and very shiny. He was what could have been my first true friend, in this brave new world I had attempted to venture into. I brought him out of hiding that Sunday evening, where he had waited almost six full months to be united with me at last, a companion to my newest toy.
And his end was truly uncalled for, the day we parted ways.

Though what I pity most about his end was not how he went, or why he went, but the time I spent with him. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t satisfactory. For the long, long time he had waited for me to be finally meet me and be with me (he’d wanted this to be for life, I’m sure of it), we had only really done something together once. And it wasn’t much to brag about, mind you, it was simple. So simple, I could have used someone else instead to get it done. But there we were, two of us together, and I hadn’t so much as thanked him for the dinner he gave me that evening. After I left him, I went back to my computer, and tinkered away. I hadn’t thought of a name for him, even, in the days I spent with him.

His affliction was the perfect opposite of Cordelia’s. She drowned, and he was burned. I remember nothing of how I was compelled to turn around and look at him. I knew it was suspicious that his arms were placed differently from their normal position, but I paid it no attention, at least until misfortune truly struck him like a flaming arrow to one’s chest.

Being from such a lineage, I assumed that he, like most of his brothers before, with and after him, dealt well with fire. I wasn’t wrong in this assumption. What I did not expect was that the flames would carom off the white walls onto his arm, melting it off and causing it to fall to the surface below.

And I…I felt nothing. It was a kind of horror, but at the same time it had the same effect as if I were attacked by a feather. Something in me told me that for him, this was the end. I would be unable to keep him any longer after this. No longer would he take residence in my house – or for that matter, anyone else’s. The very fire he was sent here to deal with had defiled him. For him, the door was opened, and for him, the smell of (what to him would have been) burning flesh emanated from his being. From the fires he was taken, as his appendage liquefied and descended to the clean metal surface below, and placed in the sink. The resulting carnage was, in some crude, odd fashion, not unlike crème fraîche caramel in mid-pour. Then, I knew he was lost to me.

To me, now, he was not much more than trash. And that was where I took him. Out of my room, I walked, numb and expressionless, to the singular amenity outside my apartment that would rid me of him for ever. As I raised him for the last time, and looked at his shine reflecting the light from above on my face, I scented the faint smell of caramel. Aside from those months waiting for me, aside from the only time I had used him before my leaving him to fend for himself, he had learned one thing about me. I thought of staying my hand, but by then, it was too late; I had done it.

The metallic portal parted its jaws, and swallowed him whole. It was fearful, to listen to his screams of unadulterated, blatant betrayal, as he fell, lower and lower and lower. I walked away quickly, feeling slightly horrified at myself for removing him in this fashion, even if I knew it had to be done. What was he to me, anyway? Why had I such feelings for him? If I cared for him so much, then why had he not a name?

And then, what would be the point of my answering these questions now? I had lost a friend. No, that isn’t right. I had lost someone who could have been my friend, though we hadn’t the time to bond properly.

But besides all that, I was here to give an apology. And whatever your name was – or should have been – thank you, Mister Pot, and sorry for leaving you so soon. May those who come after you receive the love you never did, and for your sacrifices, may we all be for the richer.
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A look back at two and a half months and the things I'll miss.
dantedirenc
I don't want to go.
I just don't.
It's not like there's nothing I haven't done already short of finishing anything to do with flexibility. But...I...
This place. It's...beautiful. In its humid, disgusting way.
...It's so...special in its own way.
And to go back to Melbourne now...it feels like something's missing.
Fuck.
I don't want to leave. Not even if he annoys me to death with his demands and expectations. He is but one person...and I'll miss all of the rest of them. (Ahem.)Collapse )I'll miss the days where nothing happened except for Pet Society, Gangster City, RockYou Zoo, and stretching.
I'll miss the days where I went out with the Bokemon, the I.B., the House 6 people, Shaegan, Cheryl, Winter, Nicholas, Lennon.
I'll miss that one Christmas party where I managed to get most of them in, and we played Shogun and I Never to ridiculous degrees.
And for sure, I'll miss interning under Sensei.
I'll miss recording covers in the middle of the night (they'll return one day is for sure, the question now is how), posting them to chirbit at ungodly hours, and dying really late in.
I'll miss that one shoot. (Well, two actually, by different people, on different things.)
I'll miss Cedar. I mean, I'm not crazy about them at this point, but I'll miss Cedar. (I do hope the auditorium gets put to good use, for them. Those girls need lots of help, in a good way. And which of them doesn't want to succeed, given the chance?)
I'll dearly miss my unlimited high-speed wireless internet. Lennon Tan will no longer be just a skype away. :<
Mummy's cooking. Getting driven everywhere and/or public transport under $5 anywhere. Coco and Ruski. Floating about aimlessly in the pool. DDR. Guitar Hero. The Wii in general. Singaporean food. That one store which sells laksa with inhumanly large tau pok. Pepper Lunch. Ramen. Epic Japanese food that doesn't come from Don Tojo or Hana-Ichi. Din Tai Fung. XIAO LONG BAO. Cheap shopping. Stationery. Getting scolded into doing things. Epic epic epic takoyaki. Malaysia.
...God damn it tell me something I don't miss about this place other than two particular men.
And I'm leaving it.
...I'll miss everything here, I know I will. :<

Things to do this year.
dantedirenc
Yes I finally get around to making one of these things. On the CHINESE new year. In no order, non-exhaustive, and don't judge me.

1) Makeup.
- *sigh* At last I have to write this down. After spending my entire secondary school life declaring war on this...thing, I've to write it down. Tch. Well...it's something to have I guess.

2) Learn to cook.
- Because one day Yogi and Phaik Yie will be awesome elsewhere, and I shall have to fend for myself.

3) Get an EOS (400D and above, preferably).
- It's about time, I figured.

4) Get a laptop that runs Windows.
- For work that cannot otherwise be done on my Mac, for games, and for the feeling of using a Windows again.

5) Left split.
- Seriously, I've promised myself this for the longest time now. It's still uncomfortable as all hell to stretch the left side. But I'm going to take this nice and slow; I don't want/need to tear anything.
- Look, let's factor all three forms of this in, and I'll be a happy girl.

6) Stay under 55kg.
- No matter what. 55 and above is dangerous. Run. Do stuff. Anything to keep it under 55.

7) Finish learning the Yaranaika dance.
- This, not so important. But fun. :D

8) Do at least one big thing that relates either to music and/or theatre this year.
- This does not include choir. Something to build the resume, basically.

9) Survive the first year of daigaku.
- Obvious enough.

10) Rock vocals.
- More for myself than anything else. This, after classicals. I don't want to kill myself doing only rock.

11) RETURN TO FENCING.
- Jesus Christ have I lost touch. Yup. Return to fencing, I shall want to.

12) Get stronger.
- Because I should be pulling check-in baggage off conveyor belts, not the other way round.

13) Learn to use the fecking iron.
- Because suiting up is a big responsibility.

14) Backbend.
- This...hurts even more than left split. But actually doing it is, like, three million times more epic. :D
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Chinese New Year/Valentines Day, 2010.
dantedirenc
Here I sit. Decomposing in a godforsaken corner of Kota Tinggi, Johor. In case you don't know where that is, it's in Malaysia.
Large, rogue skeeters fly through the air, even in air conditioning.
I've given all my red packets to Mummy and played gin rummy to nauseating degrees.
...Save me. ><
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Writer's Block: Single pride day
dantedirenc
Given that we're less than a week out from Valentines, how do you feel about the approaching holiday? Will you participate or abstain? If you're not in a relationship, how will you celebrate your single status?


Not in a relationship, not in a hurry at all to be in one. I'll celebrate Valentine's the way every other Chinese tradition-respecting person is going to - run around demanding red packets from married people, wear new clothes, eat lots of Chinese food. :D

...right.
dantedirenc

You are The Moon

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.

The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

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A short post of complete and utter narcissism
dantedirenc
Let us make beautiful music.Collapse )
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Health checkup
dantedirenc
FOR THE CONVENIENCE OF POTENTIALLY JEALOUS PEOPLE. Though this contains DETAILS ABOUT THE PEE TESTCollapse )
There will be an ear-rape tonight, by the way. :3
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