fragments.

wellwishes are all muchly appreciated (: in fact, diversions of all sorts are all muchly appreciated. ’tis supposed to be the holiday season, and yet family issues are resisting festivity. a phonecall brings news of yet another death in the family; is there any point questioning the ‘why’? you accept it and move on.

this christmas and new year’s eve (thats today!) – the first spent away from home – has been a tad too low-key for my liking :x say what you like about the commercialization of festive seasons back in singapore – gaudy decorations, airwaves inundated with festive songs, mediacorp artists bouncing and bopping in christmas television specials – im missing it all! christmas dinner was great – in addition to the usual bunch i love, we had pak visiting from switz, rokey visiting from oxford, kevin, nagisa, and a murder mystery victim in the form of ‘britney’. but despite succulent turkey and abundant sparkly alcohol, i wasnt home. and that would have been the most important ingredient.

unsorted photographs taken of the last couple of weeks bringing the year to a close. tonight will be a small affair with new acquaintances; may the new year be a year of fulfilled promises, honesty, recovery. and the very first week of this new year will be spent thumping out a beckett essay currently standing at 0 words. 2006 has been a disappointing year of stasis, a reminder that you can be standing atop the eiffel, or crying into the sheets back in the home you’ve known for years, or sipping black coffee in a cafe where no one knows you, or staring out of a window as the train takes you across england, and somehow… the thing remains.

snatches of joy – crooning disney songs with the girls last night, collapsing in prayer with friends, cycling back home after a day’s work, receiving mail with familiar handwriting, long and unexpected phone conversations – makes it worth it. makes it worth tearing yourself out of bed, worth going through the blisters, makes it possible to say, at the end of the day, that its alright. here comes the sun.

the seminar mates

the family

christmas dinner ‘06 (:

dismantle the sun.

a phonecall pulled the rug out from under my feet – but no, this is about so much more than me. and its at times like these that i really need to believe in something greater than us, greater than me or you or him and a home waiting beyond the grave.

grandpa passed away yesterday, peacefully i heard. unconscious for most of the last few hours.

i wish i knew what he was like as a young man, i wish i knew the story behind the faded picture with the toothy grin. but no, i’d never made the effort. it was always too much of a hassle to schedule in a trip to meet the grandfolks. he’d never told me he cared, i’d never told him i loved him. it was in the little things – he’d take out his precious tea set when we visited, he’d bring out our favourite cookies and snacks, he’d pass me the cushion, he’d try his best to pronounce my name right. and i only ever knew him in relation to the background role he’d played in my life. never as a person in his own right.

but my mom would. she’d know him as a father; the father who raised them with iron rule, the father who scrimped to put all his children through school, who still longed to return to his family in china though he was sold off as a young boy. and right now, it is my mother’s pain i feel; and i cant understand why.

 Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public
doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
…

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

- W.H.Auden

by a stroke of chance, today’s seminar brought into discussion this memorable Auden poem used in Four Weddings and a Funeral.  the world feels slightly eclipsed now, but no, it will be alright because of a power greater than the ocean and the wood.

the world is moving slower now. i cant afford to hurry. i cant seem to hurry. when you hear your mother crying over the phone – incoherent – your whole world crumbles, and collapses. and im only so aware that i cannot afford to lose them. ive still got so much growing up to do; selfishly, im praying they can still be strong for my sake.

an incoherent mess in my tutor’s room today. my tutor, flying back to the states to tend to her dying mother, told me when your parents passed away, the rehearsal is over. no longer a child to those adoring individuals who would give anything for you. the greatest love in this mortal world snatched from you. how ephemeral the child is, the grave proves. so ashes to ashes, dust to dust, life goes on. albeit eveything moving just…a little slower.

a bottled cure?

[whoever said religion and science dont mix?]

sometimes i feel as though i couldnt be further off-course. and curiously, when i sit down here on a sunday afternoon to write about the week, the snatches of highs, exhilarations, self-congratulation all seem to fade into obscurity. nothing seems that big a deal. as if i dont really know what is important to me anymore. priorities are every mutating, re-shuffling themselves. and if this rant has come off sounding garbled and confused, well, thats because i am confused.

my motivations for fulfilling obligations are grounded in (sigh) insecurities and need; im digging deep to find a genuine altruism that i suspect may not even exist. and that scares me – that fabrication will come unwoven and i will be left standing, exposed, tired, singular, cold, in the headlights.

the past week served up: yccf, joy’s birthday, another fire drill (3am!), taiwanese food, japanese food, town with cui, getting my whsmith uniform(!), ulysses presentation in seminar, lovely ysis kiddos, a talk organised by ysis, fulfiling chats with several people who have been lurking on the same wavelength as i!

with nesta at last night’s event:

with cynthia:

man with bagpipes in town!:

kiddos who’ve made wednesdays afternoons fulfilling:

its not easy to psych yourself up, but the alternative – beating yourself up – stinks even more. im choosing the lesser of the evils, but that really shouldnt be the case. hand me the bottled cure for melancholy!