Thank Goodness for 7-11

the artwork of nicholas lampert

orange

Is there more to graphic design?

Ha! In your face, underminers of the sacred arts!

so disgusted that I felt like laughing

xx jie jie! you so bad!

Sounds familiar eh?

Don't. Act. Cute. (icy chill)


i just don't understand my peers, I guess. It's like attending school with kindergarten children, because a) I don't understand what they are saying and b) the noise pollution and violance can be recorded to recreate the horrors of war. Okay that was so pretentious.

No seriously, I'm confused why they would use crass to show people that they are being loved? (Yes i hear your sighing and your recounting of memories never forgotten that will cause endless scars) Or that they being crushed on. Or that they feel left out and abandoned? (=P) Or that they need to belong to some superficial group of friends who hang out for the sake of hanging out and to handle their insecurities. Or that they want this and that and underline it because it looks cute and distorted (I mean, some accessories look dumb on people who aren't able to carry that look off properly). Or that because their mirror was probably malfunctioning, they didn't check their appearance before they left school and got criticized by teachers that their socks are 'too short' or that their shirts/blouses are never tucked in or their hair/earrings/eyeshadow are not acceptable for school. (because the slacker dress code is way 1995 and, ya know, unless you really want to become a 'bo, you'll follow the dress code)

some also sound like the compiled editions of a stalker's collected diaries.

I'm hungry

Listening to indie does make you sleepy and hungry.

(yawns)

What we lose

I had another dream. The forgotten ipod mini has floated back up to my memory. You know, like a toybox with a corpse inside had suddenly resurfaced from the bottom of a lake, a la desperate housewives? And in this dream, my chinchillas know how to enter and exit the cage whenever they wanted to, and every morning, a parcel of chocolate would appear next to one of my chinchillas, but not before the bag of poppy seeds in my fridge suddenly exploded in my face. And i tasted it. It felt like 100s and 1000s, all horrible and flour-y.

I'm in the mood for all things mundane today. Like how I normally hold my fork, how I should hold my fork, the number of crevices present on a single eyelid, my color blindness, the numbers on my 10 dollar notes, the pink on my sister's pencil case, the insensitivity of people, mostly.

I woke up today with no eyebags. I ate my breakfast with without any eyebags. I cleansed my pores without any eyebags. I stepped out of the house sneezing, with a huge swollen puffy right eye and eyebags. I looked at the mirror in church and saw my capillaries very clearly, and the tears and their tear ducts. As well as a new pimple.

I think it was blood that I saw, the liquid floating at the base of my eyeball, staring back, perturbed, at me.

Now our energy slowly drains due to complex reflex actions of emotional triggers

I can't stand a warm night! A night without breeze is like a watermelon without its juice. It is also like a barking dog without a head. It is also like a sandwich with an infinite number of bread slices. Etc. etc.

Today is homecoming day. Today is also speech day. Today i also had a very disturbing but inspiring dream that made me feel like painting and drawing and kicking and screaming with an angry pencil in my hand, irked with my own subconsciousness for reminding me of our fraility in the face of time.

I love dreaming. I feel that it's a form of communication with my senses and the way i truly feel about emotions and uncertainty of the future. It's almost like entering a different universe that is not constrained by the laws of reality and logic. So i can dream about things that are almost insanely surreal and abstract. And yet contains meaning. It's almost like a preview of ideas for an art piece.

Look I've just learnt how to do this pig by Germaine -.- :

|\___| ( -(00)-)
~( U U )
^ ^

No that wasn't a fabrication derived from my dreams.

Although i could dream of strange pixels and vectors.

bitterest annoyance

God, teach me to love my enemies. Even it that means a life of high blood pressure and fury from within.

Note the subtle hints.

So anyway, these are the things that happened this past week:

1) Arts Festival! which was really fun to do. I mean, rehearsals are so intense because everyone is shouting at you, but on the actual performance, all the lights shine for you and everyone claps, instead of a teacher clapping loudly to shout at you etc. etc. And I love running around backstage and rushing! And receiving flowers.

2) Hmm. nothing.

So i'll try to post some of the pictures that I took. and maybe the videos. yay cool.

My Depressed Post

The Intended Holidays have passed away, I've just came home and I feel so weak, spiritually, emotionally, mentally and physically.

Ok let's just say I feel like big fat ugly rock in a garden of beautiful people.

And I'm suicidal this evening because:
- I shall leave all my friends in the lurch.
- I shall not have to go for the emotionally demanding ushering tomorrow.
- I shall not have to perform for the other nights.
- And the choir will have one less person so they won't go out of tune so easily.
- And there will be more space on the risers so my bass section won't be so cramped.
- Suddenly, I have realized that I have made many many many wrong decisions that have made my life worse.
- I'm sick of being so grey.

God? Someone? Help me. Although I know this is just futile and attention seeking, but I wish I could just take some medication to make me happier.

My Intended Artisan Afternoon

Oh-kay. Because Big Brother is watching my every post and planning discreet missions to sabotage and earn trivial victories in exchange for a less-than-perturbed conscience, I shall remain quiet and politically-neutral in my stance from now one.
And possibly, for ever.
Because, perhaps, their clockwork-like minds embrace all things evil.
And sometimes, evil loses its originality and the minority of society who haven't lost their sense of judgement and ability to seperate art and artfully-disguised-rubbish stand at a corner, stifling an anticipated yawn.
Yawn! Pseudo-sadist-posers are the tragic evidence of symptoms of an unfulfilled life.
Yawn! Sadly, there goes my political-correctness.

But I haven't talked about a certain, totally random day in my life yet. Much like radioactive decay, it really is random. So random, in fact, that you don't need to care.
Ok. Here's my monologue of my totally random day:

So the bus decided to hate me today and went really really slowly through the relatively-empty-compared-to-orchard streets of a particular journey to my school to meet some friends (and another person). I was late as usual. Hate me.

I got into the car and we went to Tampines for the debate tournament. It felt like the longest ride of my life due to having a backache while in an extremely unergonomic seating position.

Oh, I thought when we finally came to the lobby, I didn't know Tampines was so full of glass and steel.

(And my soul also ached when I saw my bag being opened and rummaged through for 'security reasons'. Conspiracy theory number 1: A classified document that would change the course of the future of the Universe was missing and therefore, there has been bag checks all around this galaxy. Yes, laugh at my attempt to be lamely funny.)

The doors were opened, the debate started. A most unusual, if not, extremely different template for a whole debate. I had to sit next to someone who, apparently, knows everything. So that's cool. (Through clenched teeth, yes, it was a test of one's tolerence-level.)

Press Skip button.

After the WHOLE debate thing, 2 other friends and I walked to the Tampines mrt and went to City Hall mrt. E and I went to the esplanade, where i had my Intended Artisan Afternon. Which meant opening up our senses for a sensory overload and enjoying the finer things in life. Which included nibbling chewy cookies at Mrs. Field's and sipping chilled drinks, flipping through our copies of the Esplanade Diary, half-planning trips to watch concerts (i.e.'Wow I would love to watch this!') and also, inevitably, the bemoaning of sold-out performances that have been so long awaited but so bitterly and resentfully missed (i.e. 'OMG nooooARGH@#*!')

And to enhance our experience after that appetizer to whet our tastebuds for the arty main course, we strolled around, eyeing the chocolate-dipped marshmellows and frozen strawberries, gleaming under off-yellow fluorescent bulbs and went to the Library to meet Z.

(At this point my eyes feel like they're burning and I'm too tired to continue. Gah.)

thenwewenttolookatbooksandthenwewentoutandwalkedaroundandwenttothemerlionandthenwehadasushicravingandwewalkedtorafflesplaceforsushibutthemarketplacewasclosedforrenovationssowewenttomosburgerinstead. yum. the end!