Among my friends, I’m probably the most disconnected mainstream person. Here is a list of US produced songs that I’ve never, partially or have not heard of or seen the MV for the past year (if I’ve only heard cover versions than the original version will make the list as well). The list I came up with comes from the DJ Earworm Mashup – United State of Pop 2014 (Do What You Wanna Do). This will be a very surprising trip.
The lyrics are well written, and the melody is catchy. What I don’t get is that there’s a guy that just hangs out with the pianist and Aguilera, she HAD to look visually pleasing as opposed to the pianist and the hanging-out-guy, and everyone seems to be looking up most of the time. Pretty sure you could look down when you’re depressed. Pun not intended.
Who the hell is that whispering black guy? And she does not look like a 12-year-old, as many people keep pointing out. Continue reading “Reconnecting with the Mainstream”
I had this dream about 12 hours ago. Incredibly surreal, I have to say. Let me paint you a picture first. About four days ago, I burnt what I think was all my “mementos” of my ex. I also realised how rubbish I am at burning things. Three years ago, my wallet that had money, an ID, and my ex’s letters to me was stolen.
The dream, as far as I can remember, starts with me walking alone in a small street lined with low-rise buildings in Tokyo. It was a cold and grey day. My red and black winter jacket was up my neck. The black beanie I wore didn’t do shit so I bought a pair of brown earmuffs. I wore black mittens that did nothing to protect my delicate woman-like fingers against the weather so I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jacket. I passed by a couple of traditional Japanese ramen bars. You know, the ones with the wood and paper sliding door. I kept walking until I saw this shop that sold accessories. The glass windows that reached from the ceiling to the floor were the most modest not that I know what a boastful glass window looks like. There wasn’t any door, which I didn’t find strange at all. The walls were a kind of sea-foam-green with glass shelves upon shelves bolted to it. Some shelves had bags and shoes, some had magazines.
One rack near the entrance caught my attention since it said, “Used wallets. 50% off.” I was convinced that people came to this shop and had pawned their wallets. Following that logic, the rack of wallets of different shapes, sizes, colour, and material were those that weren’t bought back. The thought that these could be stolen was non-existent. I looked at these wallets like how I was looking for books to buy–by appearance. I only ever buy wallets that are made of leather, folds, and has many slots.
My eyes widened when I saw a leather wallet with black lettering on a red canvas. For a moment I turned into Indiana Jones in the Temple of doom, slowly reaching for the wallet. It certainly was the same brand (Tough Jeansmith has the best Japanese leather wallets btw). I slowly unbuttoned it open as if it were my lover in a rainy day. It had nothing but the letters from my ex. “I can finally burn everything,” I mumbled. Continue reading “Framed in a Japanese Dream”
It’s a quarter to 2 in the morning. I don’t plan on sleeping, and I’ll probably boil myself a cup of coffee. Now though,
I’ve sat myself on this couch with a bowl of plain oatmeal whilst the TV shows a Korean music show for old people and a documentary. All the while I know that in 6 hours I have midterms, followed by a gruelling 3 hours of International Law and German, and afterwards another 3 or so hours of thesis research.
This tasteless fibre treat coupled with the vibratos of these aging Korean artists brings me down to where I feel like I’m a depressed old man, regretting the things he’s done or not done and knowing that it just might be too late to make things right.
It’s so difficult to find self-happiness. I know where to begin, and I know that I have to have peace within me. This peace will have to come with a temporary distortion of someone else’s peace. I’m just so fucking afraid of what would happen to me and to her once I finally have the balls to fucking sort myself out.
I have to fix myself (I’ve probably said that a billion times), because this is harbouring so much pain that I have to act differently to friends that remind me of her. I have to have a life where I’m not constantly basing my actions and ideas through bittersweet memories. I want to have my own life.
I really thought I could live on my own, be dependent from the past mistakes. That will never happen. If peace is a still lake in the morning, then I have a small pond with a large rock thrown in the middle.
I find myself feeling jealous of people who find closure to these kinds of things. I guess I’ll return to my pity party of one.
And yet another one bites the dust. I don’t remember how many sites I’ve setup and deleted since my stay in WordPress. As always, it was with a heavy heart that I had to kill one of my babies.
P.S. I’m working on a new entry and will probably have it out by next week. That is if I am able to put down this book that’s never left my clutch. I’ve been reading Shadow of Night fyi.
What you see above was a current work-in-progress, as I would always love to show my beloved readers transparency in my work. What’s totally different this time is the application I used to write my posts. Many of you may not know, I got my MacBook back in early 2009 and I’ve used Apache OpenOffice as my text editing/writing application since then. The only reason why I didn’t get Microsoft Office was because it was EXTREMELY expensive—the cost of running Mac OS X I suppose. However, I realised I needed a much more powerful word processor to get a certain feeling of satisfaction and gratification. Compared to OpenOffice, MS Word is a dream to work with, I must say. You may think that this isn’t such a big deal, but for a liberal arts student, whose life is mainly made up of journals, articles and papers written with OpenOffice, this is a gift from heaven. I honestly feel like I can stretch my wings.