I came across this quote:

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.

by Neil Gaiman (whose books I've yet to try).

I guess when you let people make incursions you ought to expect them to leave one day. Expectation and excitement - they are traps, really. Because with a rise comes the fall. I don't think it's the fault of an emotion. How could it be?

Thankful that Keane's hiatus gave Tom Chaplin some creative time for his debut solo album, The Wave. His first released single is the above Hardened Heart, and I can't imagine any one else singing it because it's so distinctly Keane (or rather Tom Chaplin's vocals) -  dense, powerful voice which stretches well over climaxes without straining.

I remember proclaiming with absolute conviction how "Keane is my number 1 favourite band" for years, which is unsurprising, because their songs are so moving and too easy to sing along because of their moderate tempo. I played "Spiralling" from my Sony W595 phone back in 2008, and even suggested our math group to be called "Perfect Symmetry".

But it's a little hard for them to maintain their throne because alt-J ∆, with their indie layered tunes and superb book references, have been on my playlist for like a year. They are art.

 

A Midsummer's Equation, Bel-Ami & Birthday Stories

This book is Higashino's most recent English translation and upon finishing it I was quite sad that the next one (if there will be) will probably take some time to be published.  

Finally, a mystery whose plot brilliance matches up to The Devotion of Suspect X!!! I've watched its movie a few years ago (and also remembering very vividly how I was all alone and munching on a cheeseburger in the cinema) but that did not discount the surprising dark revelation of the novel!! 

Our favourite scientist cum sleuth, and this time round, a panelist in an undersea mining conference, Professor Yukawa solves a mystery surrounding the Kawahata family, whose adult daughter has a disproportionate and mysterious passion in preserving the sea at Hari Cove. Precipitated by the wrongful death of a retired top dog from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, the novel delves into another murder of the past. For the main bulk of this amazing novel, multiple police forces from different precincts (which was very confusing for me) uncover the patchy history of the Kawahata family. But of course, they are too stupid to draw links, so here is where the erudite and hot professor steps in to solve the puzzle. 

It's another heart-wrenching novel because so many layers of lies, all of them with the purpose of protecting a loved one, led to a murder which could have been avoided. I remember a particular scene from the movie where I had to try really hard not to cry! 

Also, plus points for the book in which the child-allergic Professory Yukawa bonds with little Kyohei because that is SUGOI DESU! 

Overall, A Midsummer's Equation is fantastic, and Higashino continues to live up to his name!!!

I purchased this second-hand book from one of those frequent pop-up bazaars at the university. Upon seeing it, I knew I had to get it because both the author and title rings a bell. And it's only $2.90! I completed most of the novel between the rigmarole of the Buddhist funeral.

Our protagonist, Georges Duroy, or better known as the titular "Bel-ami" by all the girls he slept with, is like Adult Oliver Twist gone wrong (haven't touched a Dickens since because I am traumatised by its tediousness). Georges Duroy a poor french man living by the day develops craftiness and works his way up the journalism company by charming married women who can't resist his "curly moustache" (I don't know why Maupassant kept bringing that up, it must be a french thing in the late 1800s lol). By today's standards, he's the regular, f***boy that my mother warns me about.

I like the end of novel, which describes the total spiritual destruction of one of his "victims" - how the french aristocrat Madame Walter looks towards the "Jesus Walking on Water" painting, only to realise wow, Duroy does look like Jesus (curly moustache???), and how church has been ruined for her as she presides over Duroy's holy marriage with her daughter. 

It isn't a trashy novel - absolutely no raunchy, detailed sexy scenes. I feel that it must have reflected the bigotry of men that must be so common in those days. And also Maupassant's ideals, considering he was big on prostitutes and died of syphilis. 

Birthday Stories is an anthology by Murakami. It was so very aptly presented to me, after a handshake and before an odd pat on the head by a friend, on my birthday. 13 short stories, inclusive of "Birthday Girl" written by Murakami himself, constitutes this very dark and bleak book. 

My favourite short story was Forever Overhead by David Foster Wallace. I was spellbound by his beautifully artistic descriptions and was reading the story's analysis online in rapture that I literally WALKED INTO A VENDING MACHINE on my way to work. Will DEFINITELY be checking his works out. 

I mean, just check out how he describes puberty in the first 3 paragraphs before swiftly and beautifully leading you in to the main bulk of the story: here. When I read them I knew the story would be great!!! Go read it, it takes less than 30 minutes!!!

There are multiple symbolisms in the story which takes alot of time to think through (as with alot of short stories, I realise), but the beauty is that once you see it, it's like you've solved a puzzle. The bee and the coke, the sister's blindness in running about, the mechanical, one-way movement up and down the diving board etc. These are small little clues littered throughout the story that makes you appreciate the beauty of subtlety in story telling. 

Murakami's own "Birthday Girl" was enigmatic, very obscure and implicit. I don't fully understand it therefore I can't quite judge Murakami yet. 

I'm writing so much on books but I don't think anyone's interested in what I'm reading to even slow down and take in every word like how I read short stories. I don't even know if anyone checks this site out. In any case, my next read is Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury and I shan't be discourage from my hobby - I'm excited for this classic, must-read, dystopian novel. I'm definite that it'll be good!

I Can't Face My Feels When I'm With You

I love this!!!!!!!!! I saw the quote somewhere and it was so smart I had to do something with it!!!!

I can't wait for the coming weekends because I'll most probably start on volunteering in some place and another place!!!!!!

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest + More Than You Can Say

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey was absolutely BRILLIANT!!! One of the reasons I love this widely acclaimed novel is dear Chief Bromden, our native American narrator who acts deaf and dumb in the psychiatric ward presided by the abominable Nurse Ratched (exactly what her name suggests). Because of Bromden's regular hallucinations and his shaky mental state, his narration is unreliable and it leaves alot of room for imagination. Honestly at many points in the book I started wondering if Nurse Ratched were really as manipulative as the patients thought her to be, or was she just doing her job. Enter McMurphy, a jolly but hot-headed gambler. Disgusted by the patients' submission to Nurse Ratched, he arranged a coup through a series of flagrant disobedience (taking the boys out fishing, drinking, all with the participation of prostitutes). 

The central theme of oppression (Ratched) and ineffectual bureaucracy (the Doctor and the fat man whose name eludes me) is unmistakable. I've done abit of reading up on Ken Kesey's personal life before starting this book to have a better understanding of the circumstances in which the novel was written. Kesey's experience as a personnel in a psychiatric ward and the then-new Goffman's deinstitutionalisation approach towards psychiatry and psychology helped conceived this book. Kesey also became a hippie afterwards and that's cool too. 

For all these reasons, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest is an amazing read and has become one of my favourite books!!! The plot was hopeful, happy, funny and poignant and the characters really grow on to you.  

*Cues Mad World by Tears for Fears*

I love this fishing scene where everyone was laughing!! This was the happiest moment in the book and I had so much feelz for this!!

More Than You Can Say by Paul Torday was a pretty underwhelming read. The whole underdog white male soldier saving an exotic and submissive Afghanistan girl (which French descent, no less), then  falls in love (SURPRISE!) with her bewitching beauty was super tiresome in the first half, so I was glad with how the story turned out. Throughout, I was thinking of the song Heroes by My Favourite Singer. 

I hated how the description at the back of this paperback suggested this book was about how the protangonist walked from Oxford to London (or something), but upon the first few chapters, the story immediately goes off tangent. 

I'm reading A Midsummer's Equation by Keigo Higashino now!!!! Very excited for this one too!!!!!! 

- Rant -

Hehehe my Friend Fries. They're so kawaii desu BUT THEY BE IN MY STOMACH NOW!!!! I bought them, upsized and complete with a meal, because I was rather annoyed with my lukewarm friend with his persistent personal feelings of inadequacy in the case of I WANT 2 GET GAL, BUT I SUX. It lingers in his mind be it in the state of sobriety or inebriation. Inadequacies, insecurities, and that human cocktail mix of anxious emotions are cool because everyone has them. It's also cool to release them as you imbibe and binge in the presence of supportive friends (I think that's ME). 

I have always known that he harbors these destructive inadequacies and at times, I dish out relationship advice (as if like I'm experienced and all, lol), along the lines of the usual "love yourself before you love others", confidence etc blah blah whatever logical stuff people say. I really want him to get over it because if these thoughts marinate and simmer too long in the head, they will take root and that's not healthy.

Inebriated, tongue tied and lovelorn, he began flooding the room with his damn tears asking for advice and I advised him with all the relationship wisdom I have accrued over my post-pubescent years. I no relationship but I have wisdom??? There was where the circularity of the argument began: "I WANT 2 GET GAL, BUT I SUX", "CONFIDENCE WERKZ", "CONFIDENCE 4 WHAT I SUX". It lasted for HOURS and even into his hangover of morning. I was so happy to be out and about in the park despite sleep deprivation and not having BATHED but even in his state of sobriety he was moping about and sighing and whining and tsk-ing so when he asked what to do, I replied very curtly and louder than necessary I'M NOT GONNA HELP YOU IF YOU DON'T HELP YOURSELF and silence ensued among the 4 of us and I felt bad for like a minute. I was pissed off because if you don't even HEED our advice or have the tenuous NOTION that YOU WANT TO CHANGE then may I ask what is the point of asking for it???? For the past 12 hours in a time I was supposed to have fun?

And really, as I tried to advise, with anecdotes of personal experience, during the dead of the night when I could have slept, it's not right to brush them off with a vague "BUT YOU ARE NX LEH, NXXXxxxx" while the other guailan, no where near drunk, choruses in "YA NX LEHHHHhhhhHHhh". There is no point in resisting lingering preconceived impressions. I literally quit and started using my phone to which they lamented "Don't kill off the mood". I tried sleeping but I can't, because dude starts throwing his phone and spectacles like a giant baby.

I need a break from this group of people. I like them, they're my better friends in a bunch of people I am not well acquainted with and I will still render help especially to mister Unrequited Love, but I think I deserve better and I will seek to form new friendships. I'm so glad that my close friends are positive people, people whose locus of control lie within. BYEEEeeeEEeeEEe

Suggestive Burger

My third illustration!!!!!!!! I'm so happy with my new found hobby and I can't wait to share more illustrations. This was inspired by today's craving for McSpicy hehehe and a keychain given by a friend.

After One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, I started on More Than You Can Say by Paul Torday and it is rather underwhelming.

Journey Under the Midnight Sun wasn't a disappointment, but neither an accomplishment from the great Keigo Higashino. It was indeed a complex mystery novel, as promised by its reviews, reflective of Higashino's literary plot brilliance, but it fell short in stringing individual narratives into one epic mystery. In this book, I felt there were too many loose ends. If Higashino desired to have his readers piece together 20 over years worth of narratives and plot development into some first-hand, reader engaging detective work (since the mystery isn't technically solved by our non-hero Detective Sasagaki), the sheer magnitude and detail of these accounts is off putting and redundant. The attempt at leaving the story to the reader's imagination is disappointing, but of course, the convoluted mystery surrounding 2 children and their path of development compensates. 4/5. 

Discontent and its Civilizations started strong. It was intimate, compelling and persuasive in its call to rethink what civilization means under the forces of globalisation. Is Hamid a Westernised-Pakistani, or an Islamised-American? Or does that even matter? I liked how this short collection of essays are structured: first about his life, second, art and lastly, politics. The first two sections were promising - anecdotal style, Hamid looks back, reflects on his life and draws link to the current state of Pakistan and his lifestyle. I like the second section especially, where he contends art and politics are inextricably intertwined, drawing from his own experience in Lahore as a child, and in America as a literature student. Sadly, it gets abit too dry and opinionated in the third section of politics. Perhaps it was because of the stark dissociation from his personal life in the later essays, or all the big, confusing talk on politics which I do not have sufficient interest in. 3/5. 

My current read! I'm about 40% through One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and I'm excited for this one. If it keeps up, it might just make it into one of my favourite books! I'm so happy to have come across this book; I get so absorbed in it.

I haven't been writing much. The holidays give me too much time to do too much introspection, which, I feel, does more harm than good. In spirit of this time-endorsed metacognition, I've analysed abit of my journal writings to find an unsettling shift towards abstraction-based ramblings, from my original intention of recording what I did for the day. It kills me to experience unpleasant emotions now from my past entries, and seeing how unpleasantness had snowballed into a change in writing is terrifying. I don't think this departure is right, or healthy, so I'm not too keen on writing now.
I haven't been updating or reviewing much all these while too. In all honesty, the original intention of this update was to inform everyone, or rather, anyone out there my dispirit in writing/reviewing/anything, but now I end up sharp as heck at 1 AM. I often vacillate between putting all my thoughts into words, and not writing at all. I end up neither here nor there: putting private thoughts into the vaguest terms, in hopes of the cathartic effect of writing while maintaining confidentiality. It gets tiring deciding what is good for me - to write or not.

Therefore I hope to meet more people!!!!!! Instead of unduly soul-searching which confuses me with myself, interacting with people, though tiring it'll be, keeps me grounded! In this lull period, I met

1.  J, who is recovering from teenage-onset schizophrenia. He was interested in whatever I am doing in university, and asked for my ambition, to which I issued a feeble, all-too-familiar: "I DON'T KNOW, I AM NOT TOO SURE YET, BECAUSE MY DEGREE ALLOWS ME TO DO MANY THINGS, SO I AM TAKING THE TIME TO EXPLORE, I DON'T KNOW". While on the other hand, to my reciprocal question he answered without hesitation "Peer Support Specialist", and the best I could muster was yet another feeble "Oh wow that's great!" which was sorely unreflective of my deep admiration.

2. N, who geeked out over his recent business analytics competition, explaining to me in great detail his entry with palpable passion. I tried sharing what I study, but it came out all garbled and vague. He wants to create something helpful for the community. 

Meeting people driven by passion makes me feel like a complete loser, but they make me happy because they're so admirable and worth emulating. I think I'll take a break from revealing anything personal and substantial, such as this reflection, and channel all updating and writing into reviewing books. I hope to meet more people!!

Lucky Jim + Murder on the Orient Express

It took me awhile to complete Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis due to finals. I got this for like $4 from Times warehouse book sale, and considering that it's "regarded by many the finest, and funniest, comic novel of the twentieth century" (Goodreads), it's probably quite a good deal. 

For this book made me smile and chuckle and all on the MRT!!! It might be its quintessential English comic precision (like what other reviews have claimed; I am unsure of what exactly constitutes English), or perhaps, plainly, its expressions are really quite hilarious. 

This book is a satire about the bourgeois in post-war English society. I don't know anything about the English bourgeois, much less in the previous century lol so I just read it with an open mind. I felt that the book kinda lost its essence due to my ignorance of English archetype. Unless you're talking about how ridiculously polite the English are; I mean it can't be any more obvious through the dialogues in the book. Or hypocritically polite, very much demonstrated by Dixon making faces and pranking behind other people's backs.

In the book, Jim Dixon is just an impossibly jaded young professor sick of playing up to Department head Welch. Tea parties, art retreats hosted at the latter's house are obligations to Dixon as he has to impress upon Welch to secure tenure in the university. 

Love the expressions! It makes imagining the scene more comical and funnier.

"He read it through, thinking how admirably consistent were the style and orthography. Both derived, in large part, from essays of some of his less proficient pupils." 

and 

"Finally he stuck a stamp on, slobbering on it for further verisimilitude"

"Some infantile fa-la-la-la stuff" lol

Welch's son is an up and coming artist (probably the embodiment of aristocracy in this satire) and the middle-class Dixon hates his guts and ends up trading his own plain, boring girlfriend for Welch's son's impeccable girlfriend, which meant alot of catfights between the 4 people involved. 

I love how Amis wrote with very mean undertones throughout the book and this defined Dixon and his outlook on the people around him, and generally made the book really funny: 

"The only thought that presented itself to him at all clearly was one of mild surprise that the fictional or cinematic treatment of hysterics should be based so firmly on what was evidently the right treatment."  (Refer to above photo, for context lol) 

Despite the hilarity of all the situations Dixon gets himself into, I felt the book got a little dreary and uninteresting. Still a good book 3.7/5. 

Another Christie opus that propounds my love-hate relationship with her mystery novels. Good plot, boring delivery. I must say the revelation in Murder on the Orient Express is really quite unexpected, but it didn't keep me on my toes like how a good mystery novel should because you can't just piece together transcripts of interrogations of X number of passengers in the train (can't bother to count, 9?) and expect me to stay excited. I thought it was like a Mrs Marple thing for her stories to be bland but no it seems that be it Poirot or Marple, I can't quite agree to her style of writing. 2.5/5, I'll need some time for this unsatisfying aftertaste to go away before starting on the The Murder of Roger Ackroyd which I have downloaded since Goodreads promised me of a shocking twist and I can't seem to learn my lesson.

So... THERE'S A NEWLY TRANSLATED HIGASHINO BOOK! I am so so so excited to be reading it!!!!!!!!!!!! My last Higashino was December 2014, you can read it here. I read from some random website that the sales of Journey Under the Midnight Sun actually surpassed that of The Devotion of Suspect X and Suspect X was - REALLY GOOD - BUT NO I need to suppress my expectations!!!!

I just googled for the above photo and by chance I discover that the translated A Midsummers' Equation (another book of his) will be published this year :'-) Yay another addition to the Detective Galileo series!!!! Caught the movie approximately 2 years ago and it made me cry because the plot is so so good but excruciating!!!!!!!! How exciting!!!!!!!!

I just need a physical copy of Naoko to complete my Higashino collection :-) I hope that Higashino catches on to the sudden "Contemporary Japanese Authors" fad (Murakami, Ruth Ozeki, Natsuo Kirino lol) and earns abit of deserving recognition (and MORE translated works dammit) for himself. I wanted to finish Journey Under the Midnight Sun and do a combined review with the above 2 books but NO, a Higashino book warrants a special post for itself.

A Clockwork Orange - Action to the World

When I first got to know of the play I was so incredibly excited because A Clockwork Orange is my favourite book so far, and being the cultural idiot I am, I've not watched a professional play before.

My close friends are probably annoyed that I rave about the book at any chance I get!! I read it a few years back, before or after O Levels, read it again, and will definitely be re-visiting it (after I'm done with the pile of books which I HAVE NO TIME TO ATTEND TO)!

The novel follows the story of Alex DeLarge, obnoxious teen tyrant who terrorizes the society with his late night shenanigans with his droogs. While incarcerated, he volunteers himself for the "Ludovico's Technique", a brainchild of the government to ease the overcrowding issue in prison. Through classic conditioning, Alex develops negative responses to his innate evil inclinations, and this thereby compels him to 'do good'. I'm not gonna spoil the book because it's so worth reading and that I'm too lazy to write. One of the two things I adore about this book are concepts like the institution and the self, youth, and free will, which, to me are very huge concepts. It is how these ideas are sewn together in an arresting story plot that amazes me up till this day!

And of course, THE LANGUAGE. If Burgess were to use plain English, will this book still triumph, solely on it's plot? Definitely not. The novel is first person narrated in Nadsat, an argot in English peppered with Russian slovos. It's very funny how it is precisely this funky language thing that made me near give up on the book when I first read it. Out of context, these modified Russian words are gibberish to me and I couldn't get a clear picture of what was going on till a few chapters in.

Here is one of my favourite passages; Alex here was engaged in a gang fight:

I really love this passage!

"And my brothers, it was real satisfaction to me to waltz left two three, right two three - and carve left cheeky and right cheeky, so that like two curtains of blood seemed to pour out at the same time, one on either side of his fat filthy oily snout in the winter starlight." 

It's describing something so gruesome in such a rhythmic, beautiful prose, it's like you can practically feel how Alex is taking joy in the ol' ultraviolence. Love the contrast.

Love the hypocrisy here too!
To me, using Nadsat as some age-defined vernacular characterizes and isolates teens from the rest of the society. Against the backdrop of regular English dialogues from the institution and authorities, it creates this sense of "teenage identity" among them, such that Alex and his droogs exist in some independent, wayward, teen subculture. As you go along, you kinda get hooked on the language, like ponying every slovo little Alex boy govoreets (SORRY I CANNOT HELP IT), and understanding this esoteric "teenage vernacular" assimilates you into the story and soon enough you get SOOOOOOOOoooo attached to Alex. Because it's first-person narrated, there's always "O my brothers" in his narrative, like Alex is specifically addressing me so it's really engaging and I adore it so much omggggggg.

Ok enough of the book, here is a very good synopsis from the programme booklet

It was an all-male cast, so I thought it was interesting especially during scenes with women. Also, even more interesting were the theatrical dances and violence, shirtless.
Of course the play was not without censorship, of the depiction of Alex's attitude towards Christianity. I can write more about censorship but I don't wanna digress.

I thought the play was good; compared to the book and movie, there weren't that spectacular violent scenes (the play left out some) and therefore, it didn't fully develop Alex's predisposition to violence. Nonetheless the action, lights, music were great.

One of my favourite scenes was when the doctors unveiled the "reformed" Alex, and Davies (who played Alex) launched into a soliloquy starting with a (really, extremely) loud, anguished "ME! ME ME ME what about me? Am I just to be a ..... CLOCKWORK ORANGE?" (Or something to that effect - it was in the book as well).

And then there's the scene where Alex attempts to commit suicide by jumping off the window, and then the theatre went dark for dramatic effect and Beethoven's Symphony Number 9 still continued to blare on. Love the build up.

And the ending was amazing, with Alex just sitting on the table, talking to the audience (as in the book); it was as retrospective as how I love it to be, and when he delivered his rendition of the last few paragraphs of the book I was just like OMGGGGGGG DA FEELZ

I absolutely ADORE the last paragraph. Moving on, growing out of his teenage identity, the maturation and happy ending concludes the book beautifully, and this is what makes this book, to me, heartwarming, despite all the heinous deeds my little Alex boy has committed :'-)

"But where I itty now, O my brothers, is all on my oddy knocky, where you cannot go. Tomorrow is all like sweet flowers and the turning vonny earth and the stars and the old Luna up there and your old droog Alex all on his oddy knocky seeking like a mate. And all that cal. A terrible grahzny vonny world, really, O my brothers. And so farewell from your little droog. And to all others in this story profound shooms of lipmusic brrrrrr. And they can kiss my sharries. But you, O my brothers, remember sometimes thy little Alex that was. Amen. And all that cal."

Of course, that tenuous bit of immaturity still remains; "profound shrooms of lip-music brrrrrr" and OH MY THAT SASS IN 

"Amen. And all that cal." 

has GOT TO BE my favourite 5 words out of this entire novel.

The play immediately ended after Alex delivered an insane maniacal laughter, which completely confused me; like why would you want to destroy such a heartwarming paragraph (the above) with that seemingly unrepentant laughter WHY WHY WHY WHAT DOES THAT IMPLY???? The effect left me a little unsatisfied.

I don't have any basis for comparison to this play, but it was an enjoyable experience and it's definitely not going to be my last play. I guess nothing beats seeing real people and action on stage. REAL HORRORSHOW O MY BROTHERS!

It was a day before the exams when I got to know that someone close to me has, all along, been a closet Christian. It shook me really badly and I spent the day being a weepy bitch. Because

1. No one should be so oppressed such that they cannot openly announce their faith. 
2. I'm immensely disappointed in myself that I didn't read all the signs, I didn't piece up the clues that were right infront of my nose because I'm so self-absorbed. I should have been there when that someone chose to join the Christian fellowship to support, caution, and affirm. 

I would be heartbroken if that someone got sucked into religion because at that point of time that someone couldn't find anyone to relate to, because I was always present and that person chose not to thrash it out to me. The relationship plays a central role in my life and I'm disappointed that in my capacity as someone close, I did not pay enough attention and show my affection and support. After my thoughts cleared up abit I immediately texted a pious close friend in hopes that he can shed some light on this issue.

In our lowest times of trials and tribulations, we seek solace and fall back on the same people and/or things, perhaps out of habit. To me, this devotion which spans across and takes on so many forms (in religion, a soulmate close friend family etc, binge-eating) is very interesting because we never seem to get sick of it. Like, out of so many things that make us happy, why do we persistently recognise a particular something as our number one solace?

EXAMS ARE OVER! So many problems to work on and showing abit of affirmation to that someone in an attempt at self-redemption is on the top of my list. It would take an amazing amount of tact and circumspection but I am confident I can get my message across. Problems like these keep me down-to-earth and headstrong, and I am almost proud to welcome them with open arms.
No more hoping that things would just die down - like what people advised me - with passivity and incessant, nervous waiting. It is uncharacteristic of a proactive person that is yours truly. - HAIR FLIP - I take the bull by its horns.

I cannot wait for next semester, but meanwhile, I'm going to take pleasure in doing things I like.
N.B. I caught A Clockwork Orange play (OMG!) this month and I'll be doing a review soon when I'm less overwhelmed by all the things I can do with copious amount free time.

Sometimes when you realise that big, bad things are happening to close people around you, the 4 page essay you have been fretting over seems pathetic. The perturbation of today's mistakes and how you often fumble infront of people dwarf in comparison to the emotional baggage some people have no choice but to lug. Upon introspection, you admonish yourself for being so insulated from the bigger, badder things that can happen to you.

Big, bad stuff happen to people around me all the time, and like waves, the realisation that you're privileged hits you, then it ebbs as you continue to look for an axe to grind.

I have to remind myself that these minute fusses that constantly irk me are CHOICES I choose to take on. It's either I take a look on the brighter side of things, or don't even bother about them at all.

Unfortunate incidences put things into perspective - you don't know what can go wrong when they don't go wrong. Also, how wrong is wrong? Sure I have my share of long-running bad stuff of proportions greater than myself. Sometimes, these things compel me to sleep it off, and sometimes it keeps me awake at night. But sympathy tells me that problems other people are facing are probably worse than mine. I don't know if these people feel a commensurate amount of sadness towards their problems as I to mine, but if I were in their shoes I would probably feel like shit.

I think I need constantly remind myself how each of us probably has their own demon to fend against. I have mine; dormant, tame. I'm not too sure for other people's, but I hope that everyone is doing well.

OCD - Neil Hilborn

I shared this on my Facebook page a few days ago, from a random page off the net but the title was "Man with OCD Perfectly Describes What It's Like to Love Someone When You Have a Disorder", which sounds so stupid and it doesn't do the poem any justice, so here I am.

I came across this video on tumblr, I think, many months back, and I loved it so much! A few days ago I had a lecture on psychological disorders which probably prompted me to revisit it.

I am not a poem-reading person because I don't quite understand and appreciate the beauty of it, like how does chopping up a sentence into different lines make a paragraph anymore beautiful? Poe's poems (which are the only poems I've ever read lol - I think 'The Bells' is quite enjoyable) are really good, but sometimes I can't understand because of his archaic expressions. I know Roald Dahl has alot and they're really funny, but they're for kids. Then you have Lang Leav, whoever she is, whose poems annoy the shit out of me because all about it is heartbreak and love and I construe this image of her as this weeping, whiny, overly-emotional lady (I really cannot help it) and even the cover seems insanely pretentious I cannot take it.

Moving on, I guess poetry slams are different, because in a soliloquy there's abit more expression. And YESSSSS 'OCD' was delivered beautifully! It has beauty, sadness, quirkiness - all in one short recital.

I've been exploring other of his poems and this one is really funny

" Remember always the hipster creed: “Why be efficient when you could be inefficient?”

" Remember always the hipster ideal: if you base your life around your possessions, make sure they are bizarre, inconvenient, and obsolete, for then no one can accuse you of being shallow. "

Diary of Anne Frank + Predestination (2014), Inside Out (2015),The Martian (2015)

Every time I look through one of those "Books to Read Before You Die" Lists, The Diary of Anne Frank pops up. I won't say the book is that amazing, but for sure reading a true life account of hiding in WWII is somewhat interesting. 

I get heavyhearted whenever Anne speaks about her hopes about the future after the war, her prospects as a journalist and a burgeoning writer. Knowing that towards the end she eventually dies bearing all these hopeful aspirations really makes me feel discontented at the lack of happy ending because such a bright young lady obviously deserves better. Anne's positivity in the face of war cannot be ignored. 

As with all teenage girls, a part of her diary was devoted to her development of affection for Peter, the strife between her and her mother, and her relationships and opinions on those who were in the Secret Annexe. Being cooped up in the hiding place obviously made her desperate for physical intimacy with Peter (who she then realises wasn't manly enough for her), and frustrated at the littlest interactions with her family. It got a bit dreary when she goes on about the internal conflict within herself, how despite the veneer of happiness and witticisms, she is in fact tender, sensitive and quiet, which is probably so common in the phase of pubescence. 

Being a diary, there were alot of introspection which made me feel some sort of a connection with Anne herself when I was reading and I guess this is what makes The Diary of Anne Frank a perennial, posthumous favourite. 3.5/5 A very simple read, because you might have to dumb yourself down to understand the workings of a 14 year old. But this should not dilute Anne Frank's optimistic, soul-searching personality that thoroughly resonates throughout the book. 

There have also been a few books whose reviews I've been putting off. These I have completed before school started/just started, and I'll do a short condensed review:

The White Tiger - Aravind Adiga
4.5/5 
Go read it, you'll be enlightened by the first-person recount of a Indian servant-turned-entrepreneur. The book speaks to you, the words leap out and grab you; you'll feel that someone actually regales you with their success story with splashes of dark humour on the impossible social ladder in India. Why is this not made into a movie???

Between the Assassinations - Aravind Adiga
2.5/5
Thankfully I gave Adiga another shot as I chose to read The White Tiger. Between the Assassinations was a series of short stories leading no where, or rather, I couldn't dissect or discern the point Adiga was trying to make. About India's caste system and poverty.

Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk 
4/5
The movie could succinctly summarise the book, and would probably be an ideal option for those who can't follow Palahniuk's style of writing (I tried my best). Despite the contemporary prose of the brilliant/trying-too-hard Palahniuk (I sit on the fence regarding this), Fight Club is shocking and refreshing, very characteristic of Palahniuk.

The Girl on the Train - I don't really care
2/5
Remember Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn? Something similar, but less mystery, because the main character blacks out very often and halfway through the book I'm so jaded by her mucking around and practically doing nothing but bathing herself in alcohol that I don't even bother to keep up with the mystery.

Brave New World - Aldous Huxley 
4/5
One of the Big 3 of dystopian novels, but very unfortunately I can't remember much of the story, perhaps because it did't strike me as much as it should. Set in the future where hedonism is ideal and is the key to peace, a savage from the Savage Reservation (think normal people with normal ideals - Shakespeare-appreciating, monogamous) forays into this utopic society and ends up being very conflicted with loving Lenina.

Predestination (2014)

- "Which came first - the chicken or the egg?"
- "The Rooster."

If you know me rather well you'd know that one of my least favourite book/movie genre is Sci-Fi but this 2014 Australian film did it. Lousy poster aside, this time-travelling movie has a pretty solid plot (and this probably says alot especially coming from someone who's ever so skeptical about science fiction). I was talking to Thien about how I like intelligent movies, and she brought this up and so we spent an evening being a pair of couch potatoes - despite being in a flurry of deadlines and events this week!

A man walks into a bar - 'man', in this case - Sarah Snook passed off as a convincing 'John' with her strong jaw which made her resemble Leonardo DiCaprio (lol). As her life story unfurls, the movie drags, but having her flashback occupying so much screentime means that it's obviously important. John reveals that "When she was a little girl...." - the bartender (Ethan Hawke) does a double-take - she was headstrong, and was bereft of social decorum and therefore friends. Magic happens when you realise the impossibly intricate relationship between 'John', his past female identity 'Jane', and the bartender.

These 3 identities are connected by the "Predestination Paradox" - which essentially loops the cause and effect relationship within a duration of time. If you have the chicken, mustn't it hatch from an egg? But doesn't the egg come from a chicken? Of course, I grappled with this idea even after the movie, but the movie is still really mind-blowing! It was adapted from the 1959 short story "'—All You Zombies—'" by Robert A. Heinlein, which I'll probably read and review it.

*** SPOILER***

How do you procreate yourself???? Just like what Thien said "This takes narcissism to a whole new level" oh dear. If there's any point in time where the Predestination Paradox perpetuates itself, it must be when 'John' decides to love 'Jane' in absence of contraception, dammit. This brings us to a plot hole, which is that Jane seemingly readily takes on masculinity after a traumatic birth (of herself...'cause PARADOX oh my) which changes her sex only. Anyway, it takes a hell lot of loneliness for someone to have sex with their opposite-sex-self while being FULLY AWARE that they are literally, THE SAME PERSON. Which isn't so far-fetched considering that the movie paid substantial amount of attention to how Jane couldn't click with any other people.

There is also an underlying subtlety in the response "The Rooster" to the Chicken-Egg question. Neither chicken or egg, The Rooster suggests a prominent figure that puts the Predestination Paradox into traction, which in this case, I feel is the secret time-travelling organisation whose mission is to prevent as many future crimes as possible. Throughout the movie Robertson seems to be egging 'John' to continue the loop - perhaps to retain him as one of his agents, since if 'John' does otherwise, he ceases to exist.

*** END *** 

Overall, a pretty brilliant movie, 8.7/10. I'm quite surprised that this wasn't released with much fanfare last year, because I first heard of it only when it was recommended. As with time-travelling, my tenses for this review are all over the place.

Inside Out (2015)

Inside Out was surprisingly good! It has been AGES since I last watched a Pixar movie [Monsters University (2013)] - again, not exactly a fan of animated movies. I really liked the personification of individual emotion because it is quite funny that each character-emotion displays their typical emotion-characteristics. During the movie I can't help but going back to whatever I've learnt in my Psychology Intro (the different theories of emotion, and how they differ from this movie, long/short term memories, and how personality is an agglomeration of experience-fueled traits). The only gripe is that the allusions to so much psych stuff makes Inside Out age-inappropriate. I mean, kids won't grasp the whole emotion-character thing. 7.7/10! Finally a refreshing idea after Monsters Inc. 

The Martian (2015)

I was really looking forward to this movie because its trailer was quite interesting and I was quite interested in seeing how being stranded in space would play out. Sadly other than the beginning and end the movie was a little boring and totally draggy and halfway through I just can't wait for him to go home. Plus I kinda realised that the scenes all consisted of Matt Damon, alot of Martian soil, spacecraft stuff which made the scenes so...unvaried. 5/10

I hate to admit this, but I really miss my friends :-(
I'm not too verbal or comfortable with mawkish feelings and corny dispositions, but recently hanging out with people who'd formed a large part of my secondary school life really contrasts with that of University. We touched on how the deepest friendships are usually forged when we were naive to whatever adulthood has in store for us, ignorant of the consequences that are contingent upon on our actions. We wore our hearts on our sleeves without any qualms because being young, sunny and dumb insulates us from things we cannot avoid upon hitting adulthood. Now that we are, presumably, mature, and fully aware of the enormity of adulthood, priorities start to kick in and the struggle for the head-start in life consumes the ambitious among us. I honestly feel very heartened to see people I hold dear to develop passion and belief in whatever they are doing, and how some of them have already hit their first few milestones in life! Invariably, I cannot help but compare myself to them, and fear that I'll be the odd one out still struggling in coming to terms with myself and the capricious future. But of course, I seek the assurance that it's totally fine!!! There's nothing wrong being 19 and not have a yellow brick road set in mind. Life to short to even care at all ohohoh oh ohhhhhh oh

On, like, Stuff

On my holidays:

As of now, I'm down to my last 4 days of holiday. A holiday, my holiday, that I can call a true, clean break from whatever frenetic mess that preceded it. Let's put this into perspective: never in my life I'll get another 8 months' worth of nothingness, except when I start receiving CPF payouts. It is pure remorse I did not do anything extraordinary or anything that I'm particularly proud of. 

On studying (again) and the future:

I'm one of those students that looks forward to the new school term because it provides sorta like a clean slate where I can carve out a name for myself through hardwork and stellar results and

Whatever. You know me. But I'm having this mid-mid-life crisis too; What do I want in life? How can a CAP of 5.0 help me achieve what I want in life? 

Oh hold on, I am acting on the assumption that the hardworking grubber still sees to the day. 

What if I get a CAP f 0.5 instead? 

The end goal in my time in secondary school and junior college was as clear - there was only one, study now, get as many A's, bonus if it's all A's, think later. Setting the ending goal now is completely futile without a clear vision in mind. And what ending goal? End of what? 

Small steps. Get as many A's, but think now. 

On new environment:

It's great to step into a new institution that offers a new environment and experience - the only perk to the sad realisation that once again, you are subjected to the unforgivable cycle of lectures, tutorials and the merciless/merciful bellcurve demon/deity. Participating in a separate academic program boasting of its own tight-knit community (oh, wonder why people label us exclusive and elitist) forces me to actually socialise lest I relapse into my chao mugger persona I have veneered for the past number of years. I hope I'll adapt well and form new relationships. 

On the past:

It doesn't matter! 

Hannibal Season 3: Antipasto

NBC Hannibal is back! I have been keeping tab on this series after Season 2 ended for its latest progress, and I'm so happy now that I finally have a weekly drama to look forward to. Season 2 left off with cliff hangers to the betrayal showdown between Will Graham and Hannibal, having culminated into a bloody melee in which Abigail Hobbs died (should have a long time ago), Alana Bloom was flung out of the window (no one cares), and poor Jack Crawford was trying to contain the projectile spurts of his artery. I'm pretty sure Jack had survived and will be making his appearance in this season. Oh, and Dr. Chilton too, who got shot in the face. And of course Will Graham, with a new addition of a scar on his stomach.

Season 2 finale also gave a prelude to the Hannibal-Bedelia relationship which, I predict, will be one of the focus of Season 3, judging by Antipasto. I used to dislike Bedelia Du Maurier in Season 2 because of her lazy weird accent, and that I couldn't quite put my finger on where her loyalties lay. In Antipasto, Bedelia's situation become the focus of this exciting premiere, a good break from the entire FBI-Will Graham-Hannibal triangle in Season 2.

I MUST RAVE about the cinematography of the Hannibal series. The past 2 seasons played with alot of CGI effects (which aren't too fake) especially when Will's nightmares haunt him, and from what I know, the humanoid stag will still be screwing with Will's mind this season. Season 3, judging from Antipasto, seems to take on more stylish effects. I don't know how to describe them using cinematographic jargons, but just note that Antipasto had alot of scenes of slow-mo cascading fluid, black and white scenes, and even changes in aspect ratio to frame flashbacks. I can't decide if these are too much to play with in one single espisode; it seems that the Hannibal cinematography is straddling between very-cool and trying-too-hard for this season. Sound effects and music were good. Of course, I'm not surprised.

A peek into Bedelia Du Maurier's past. Bedelia had been manipulated by Hannibal (reminiscent of poor Will Graham) and is indebted to the cannibal. Out of fear, she becomes an unwilling accomplice and is coerced into playing Hannibal's wife in Europe. Antipasto shows how Bedelia can't escape from Hannibal even though she'd end up on his menu either way.
There were a few flashback scenes of the quickly diminishing Abel Gideon (think limb by limb) dining on himself with master chef Hannibal. I'm still unsure of Gideon's fate, and how he'll play out this season, but he offers good insights on Hannibal's desires and intentions - ah, the proverbial "It takes one to know one".

In Antipasto, our stupid unsuspecting lamb is Anthony Dimmond, who unfortunately, didn't make it out of this episode alive. Hannibal's big step out of his fugitive life was assuming the identity and job of a curator [which he argues that he'd "won by merit" (lol, seriously) evidently after emerging victor from his poetic showdown with the snobbish Professor Soglianto] (On a side note, we can also anticipate who'll end up on the menu #EatTheRude). Dimmond, being the assistant of the authentic Dr. Fell, only got to know of the identity heist after attending "Dr. Fell"'s lecture and was killed duh after a confrontation.

The only thing that irked me was how can someone NOT RECOGNISE a change in identity of a prominent curator and academic????? MAJOR friable storyplot but it's ok I forgive because the drama is too irresistable.

Hands down, the best scene - Unsuspecting lamb Dimmond, still unaware of Hannibal's new identity, taking the dinner-time sexual banter too figuratively:

Dimmond: You avoiding meats?
Bedelia: I'm trying not to eat anything with a central nervous system.
Dimmond: Oysters, acorns and marsala. That's what ancient Romans would feed animals to improve their flavour.  

Bedelia looks unsettled and glances at Hannibal 

Hannibal, chewing, looks at back at her with a subtle knowing smile 

Bedelia: My husband has a very sophisticated palate. He's very particular about how I taste. 

Dimmond pleasantly surprised with the innuendo, stares at Bedelia incredulousy, then at Hannibal

Hannibal averts his smile from Bedelia to Dimmond

Dimmond: -to Bedelia- Is it that kind of party? 

Hannibal: looking at Bedelia, who is uncomfortable, smiles- It's not that kind of party
Bedelia: No. It really isn't. 
Dimmond: Shame. You were both suddenly so fascinating.  

Bedelia and Hannibal, who is beaming, both take a sip of wine 

I also like dialogues in the Hannibal series. To complement its dark theme, The dialogues between characters, especially Hannibal's, are quite profound and implicit and you'd have to think it through for better understanding. Which sometimes can be abit of a bother when I just wanna have abit of brainless entertainment.

Will Graham has yet to make an appearance in Season 3 and I'm definitely looking forward to him flirting with the devil.

Dimmond: “Clearly you found him as distasteful as I did.”  

Hannibal: “Quite the contrary"

Bonsoir. 

Horrorstör - Grady Hendrix

Pardon me, I might be slow, but what the hell are book trailers? I just came across this Horrorstör 'book trailer' on YouTube while finding photos of its book so I can rave about its design but now, chancing upon this weird trend that I not know of, I have this sudden stroke of epiphany.

Just like movie trailers, book trailers seem to function as a visual expectation of the piece of media. While movie trailers are constructed of spliced scenes from the actual movie itself, and therefore giving the viewer an accurate pre-show, book trailers on the other hand leave little room for the reader's imagination because all these scenes serve as spoonfed visual expectations. I mean, just think about it; I watched the Harry Potter movies before starting on the book series, and now whenever I pick up any of its books, I immediately construe corresponding scenes from the movies to aid my imagination, mapping the movie stars' faces onto the characters'. Thinking about it, there's actually nothing wrong with that, but don't you lose that element of visual creation and imagination that books offer?
But thankfully, the book trailers I've clicked around on YouTube so far like this and this are of such sub-par quality, they defeat their original purpose of advertising. Maybe they appeal to a younger audience? I don't know.

Absolutely love the design concept. From the covers, to a few pages into the book where they state their terms and policies and Orsk's motto (just like IKEA catalogues), and to chapter covers. Fine parody.

Actually, Horrorstör is my first horror novel. I mean, I've read Poe's short tales (which can be REALLY creepy if you use your imagination well), but never a book cataloged under the horror genre. [One of my favourite Poe tales: here.] I was curious how the author would try to sustain the feeling of fear within the reader for the entire course of the book, but I'm just dismayed because Horrorstör wasn't creepy, nor frightening. To "get in the mood" I went as far as to turning off the lights and searching "creepy music" on YouTube. Urgh, very lame, but all in vain.

The central theme of this 246 paged book is the inevitability of the daily grind that pawns of the economy, like us, subscribe ourselves to. So you have the skeptical Amy, a mere college drop-out, making both ends meet with her less than satisfactory work at Orsk, and Basil, who has already been insidiously indoctrinated by Orsk's phony taglines like "Approachable And Agreeable Attitude" to become a "Shop Responsible" store manager. I really can't help but have those "I KNOW RIGHT" moments and feel empathetic towards Amy when reading her private thoughts. Like you know you're not in line for customer service when you choose to display anti-social behaviour at work in bleak hope of scaring customers to seek help from your partner instead. And I'm not talking about Amy.

Back to the book. Think Running Man in Ikea (people chasing people), but in a horror setting. Someone is possessed, relinquishing an army of not-so-scary penitents who had similarly undergone mundane work. There were a few other characters in the book that seemed so convenient to exist that you realise that their presence is just a function for a gore spectacle - a horror story, some people just must die or get hurt or disappear. The book was bereft of emotion, or maybe I was, because Amy (or I) didn't have a deep enough connection with the aforementioned expendables.

Something I gleaned from the book was the ingenious purpose of IKEA's Orsk's showroom layout. Think about it! A maze of furniture in Swedish drag in an expanse of land, no windows or doors to suggest the time of the day. You don't get lost, though, because the handy directory will guide you through every section of the marketfloor even if you're in search of a pillow. You don't take the shortcuts because you cannot resist looking at those iconic showrooms brimming of cheap but stylish Swedish flair.

Seriously, read more here. To be honest, I feel a little stupid now that I realise I've been a tried and tested specimen in a psychologically manipulative retail machination. The worst thing is that I still really like the IKEA showrooms??? Horrorstör was just okay, 2.5/5, ok maybe 2.9 for its design. And didactic sidetrack to pull me out of today's voracious consumerism.