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Thursday, 13 January 2011

Farewell!

Hey whoever is reading this blog.. I have decided to move to tumblr.com.,, for now.. As I have experienced the difference between blogging here and blogging there. Granted, tumblr lacks many widgets and other functions that I like about blogspot.,, but for the most part I feel like tumblr suits me more now.

I will definitely miss blogging here. For 2010, this has become a sort of sanctuary and I have really liked a good number of my posts on here. But I just don't feel like I will keep liking writing here..

So goodbye (for now) I guess :D BlogBooster-The most productive way for mobile blogging. BlogBooster is a multi-service blog editor for iPhone, Android, WebOs and your desktop

Wednesday, 1 December 2010

Three Down. Two to go.

Am mentally holding my breath until march next year. Here's to praying and hoping for the BEST. AMEN.

Wednesday, 24 November 2010

Give Me Vodka - I'll Throw You A Lap Dance

Once I learn how to give a lap dance of course. Hahah. Like that'll ever happen :p
And I refer to both activities there - the drinking of the vodka if you were to really give me one (because my religion prohibits me to drink it) and the dancing.

Actually, today's title is inspired by a brief exchange of short messages with my boss. Her partner had recently undergone a hip surgery, and we were talking about how this really nice guy from their hotel had come all the way to visit to the hospital. She had told him (the nice guy) to get her partner dancing girls.

I said I'd give him dancing girls and a lap dance.

She replied, while the idea has its merits and would be much appreciated, it would be too painful for her partner right now.

So I said I'd postpone ordering one until he gets better.

She thought I was offering one.

I laughed - I told her I can't dance to save my life. Honestly. Cross my heart and hope to live :D

I mean, I'm perfectly okay with twirling about listening to indie alternative head-banging, hip-swaying inducing music in my room - with only my sisters to watch and mock me. But tell me to dance in public and I'd splutter in all my incompetence at the art.

This may not be entirely true - I was told once that my dancing wasn't so bad... but I don't know. Dancing's one of those things in life which you gotta do well to do, you know? Well, some (and yourself perhaps) would argue differently.

So yeah, that's probably something I should note to myself as another in my ever growing list of "things to learn and be able to do well before I die".

Monday, 22 November 2010

On Carson Leith

Honestly, I am not supposed to be blogging right now. No. What I'm supposed to do, is work on my essays for application for graduate studies.

But. What one wants and what one is supposed to do are two completely divergent things which do not co-exist on the same plane my friend.

And hence, why I am writing here. (Even though I'm not supposed to)

So. On Carson Leith.

Who is he? The lead vocalist for Brothers At Sea. The band I so have the hots for right now (which make me like such a lameduck because they'd released their EP like in January this year - or so various sources on the world wide web tells me), as you can evidently tell if you've been following my earlier posts.

Carson is inspiring. Truly. He's younger than I am, having only started college in 2008 (making him as old as my second brother). But, the guy is extremely, and uncannily, thoughtful. Beyond his years, I'd say. One only need to read his blog (or ex-blog, since he's moved to tumblr.com at carsonleith.tumblr.com) which is carsonleith.blogspot.com.

Go there. I dare ya. You won't regret it. Seriously. Although, in passing - I do wonder why he moved to tumblr.com from blogspot....

Now, obviously I sound like a psychotic stalker with how I am apparently dedicating this post to him...essentially. So just in case Carson reads this by some unexplainable and misbegotten chance: Carson dude, no, I am NOT stalking you. And before you get any ideas of suing me, I'm one step ahead of you buddy. I would seriously advise against it, because my current occupation just so happens to be lawyering :D

I hate losing cases, so I'll make sure that I'm the one who wins. (blagh, who am I kidding.)

Anyway, back to Carson. Reading his blog, has inspired me in so many different ways. To my delight, apart from sharing my addiction to coffee, Carson shares my love of reading and writers/poets such as Hemingway and Pablo Neruda (see my previous post titled "I do not love you"). I don't know many guys around here like that, so you'll understand why I'm all gaga over finding this out.

He is also, apparently, religious. Granted, we do not share the same faith - in fact, we cannot be more diametrically opposed.

But, that is not to say I don't get what he's saying when he talks of religion. Which brings me to believe, that one need not share the same faith to understand faith itself.

I can go on to our similar tastes in music, but I won't because I'm already freaking myself out enough with this post...so I'm restraining myself and will stop here.

With a side note: in a different universe, in a different time, in a different setting and in the same spot, Carson would be my perfect Garage Band King.

So all I gotta do now is, find one that fits in my current lifetime.

If you see him, contact me do.

***Disclaimer: the photo here does NOT belong to me. I got it off their facebook page and am not using it for profit. Carson's the one in the middle.

Motivation is You

"When I'm looking for a new motivation, I'm looking for you." - Jason Poe.
Could he possible be a descendant of another famous Poe? As in Edgar Allan Poe?? Anyhow, I'm digging his music.

Sunday, 21 November 2010

For Being Brave



For being brave...it don't come easy. No it don't.
Bleeding out still I am, seeping out from the blue lines
and these eyes, they are incapable of blinking for more
My laugh lines have caked into stone
I'm sure this is what you're wanting now.

Isn't it?

You tell me, love. You tell me.
Just, for once, pretend no one's there
and only us two here stands
and that the dead grass are green meadows
would that make it any easier
for you to speak?

Being brave, it don't come easy, no.
And my silence works the way pictures do.
I ain't saying anything, but I couldn't have put it better.
Aren't you getting me at all?
If I love you at all, everything should be crystal clear to you.

Oh quit being so brave love. I'll sweeten up some of your hurting, if only you let me.
But those warm times have long disappeared - neither of us are the same persons we used to know.
I'm paying the price of being brave, or keeping pride. Label it how you want.
I want to take the easy way out, this time.
I'm done hurting inside, just as I'm done laughing out non-laughter.
Let's not be so brave now. The price is altogether too high.
For while I am more than halfway there, you have yet to move.
You have yet to move.

And I, I'm done with my falling. Falling over you and over my head.
This has evolved to being entirely overrated, for both our sakes.
Stay brave, love. Will it. Want it. Until it chokes you up, that you can't help move.
Maybe then you'll fall into me.
Maybe then I can brave myself again.

First draft: November 21st, 2010. Revised: November 22nd, 2010. By: Hanna.A.

*this poem..or potential set of lyrics is inspired by Brothers At Sea's "For Being Brave". I would suggest however, that you read the above while listening to "We're Alive" by Brothers At Sea or their "This Time, I Swear I Mean It". It sets the background better methinks. :p

I can't wax lyrical enough about this band. They're soo...talented. Bridgingtheverses.com describes them as The Fray meets Jimmy Eat World. In some ways, I think that's true. But I would say they are more Jimmy Eat World and Brightwood.

***photo disclaimer: the photo ain't mine and I ain't using it for profit. I got it off Brothers At Sea's FB.

Thursday, 18 November 2010

The Only One

I guess today is about reminiscing some of my old writings. After the post below, I came across this other poem slash song I wrote last year, on January 26th. To date, I think it's probably the most intense and romantic piece I've ever written...I'm quite proud of this one actually. Especially since I've never actually experienced what I wrote myself...teehee :D

Anyway, it's called "The Only One". Hope anyone reading will find it to their liking too!

"The Only One"

I can still smell you on my skin
and breathe you in on my pillows
I can still feel your heat with my sheets
as I pull them back to keep your warmth

I am reluctant to get up
I want to linger in these messy tangles
Wait for you to walk through the door
It can't come too soon
You can't come too soon

You were so still as I watched you sleep
so unguarded, and so open

Yet I knew the moment that you wake
you'll close off and renew your walls
and I would smile and tease you for it
at the most you'll call out my name
in that way of yours
that's never failed to bring me down
to my knees

And I know you don't see in my eyes
what you were so sure would be there
you don't see in my gaze
what you've convinced yourself to see
when will you ever realize
that I'm not the one
I won't be the one
who shuns you away even when you're hurting the most
and don't just don't want to be alone
I know you don't really want to be alone

So when will you give in, when will you take it for real
that
I am not leaving
You can push me away
and I'll just run back, come after you
because you're the only one
who gets me
you're the only one
who sees me as I am
and you know that I'm
the only one
who sees you this close
the only one who you let see you this close.

Face

Came across this poem/song I wrote about...two years ago. It feels quite...apt at the moment. So I thought I'd share it here.

"Face"

I am two and twenty years of age as of months before
but have I become any wiser
and even if I have would I know?
How would I know
and how can anyone tell

The truth is often always nothing but lies
narrowed down to its barest of forms
that don't we all have, encountered?
one way or another

I need to get to the bottom
of this mess, oh all this mess
haven't done me any favors
save to confuse and frustrate
the hell out of my being
I don't want this to turn into
another of those things we could just
throw away and forget

I've never known silence to be this still
the lack of voices is damning
is coldly haunting
If rain were to fall on my head, as of right now
would I feel
it drop?
would I feel
its pressure?
and would I feel myself getting wet
because
I haven't been breathing for the longest time

The air that passes through my lungs exist
only so that I don't decay
and the impact of the bright sun
I haven't felt
It's never been warm or light in here
for ages and I
haven't been what you call alive
for sometime now
so I'll think it's wise to sleep some more
slip into these dreams where I
can at least escape from all the
bitter and the unknown
I don't want to face
No I don't ever want to face.

Monday, 1 November 2010

Teenage Dream

I am utterly hooked. And madly in love. With Katy Perry's single "Teenage Dream". Finding him is so on my to-do list. hahah.

I claim no credit for the song nor the title. It just fucking rocks though. The lyrics then:

You think I'm pretty
Without any make-up on
You think I'm funny
When I tell the puch line wrong
I know you get me
So I'll let my walls come down, down

Before you met me
I was a wreck
But things were kinda heavy
You brought me to life
Now every February
You'll be my valentine, valentine

Let's go all the way tonight
No regrets, just love
We can dance until we die
You and I
We'll be young forever

You make me
Feel like
I'm living a Teenage Dream
The way you turn me on
I can't sleep
Let's runaway
And don't ever look back
Don't ever look back

My heart stops
When you look at me
Just one touch
Now baby I believe
This is real
So take a chance
And don't ever look back
Don't ever look back

We drove to Cali
And got drunk on the beach
Got a motel and
Built a fort out of sheets
I finally found you
My missing puzzle piece
I'm complete

Let's go all the way tonight
No regrets, just love
We can dance until we die
You and I
We'll be young forever

You make me
Feel like
I'm living a Teenage Dream
The way you turn me on
I can't sleep
Let's runaway
And don't ever look back
Don't ever look back

My heart stops
When you look at me
Just one touch
Now baby I believe
This is real
So take a chance
And don't ever look back
Don't ever look back

I might get your heart racing
In my skin-tight jeans
Be your teenage dream tonight

Let you put your hands on me
In my skin-tight jeans
Be your teenage dream tonight

You make me
Feel like
I'm living a Teenage Dream
The way you turn me on
I can't sleep
Let's runaway
And don't ever look back
Don't ever look back

My heart stops
When you look at me
Just one touch
Now baby I believe
This is real
So take a chance
And don't ever look back
Don't ever look back

Thursday, 28 October 2010

Indonesian Reporters Are Dumb

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Indonesian reporters are dumb. Like, I know I can't be all generic about it - but honestly, the past couple of days I've spent watching the tv has just reaffirmed my reasoning to have kept such abhorrence to listening to their reports. It is also why I have usually in the past have kept well away from them, for my own sanity.

Take this evening's newsreport on the recent Mentawai Island earthquake. The reporter was interviewing a victim, whose father remained missing. He said to the girl: "so, your father is missing right?" "yes," the girl replied briskly.

Now, out of a gazillion possibilities things to say, he chose to ask this: "and what are your hopes in relation to that?"

Well what the heck do you expect dude?! Of course she wants her father found!!! Such an idiot. BlogBooster-The most productive way for mobile blogging. BlogBooster is a multi-service blog editor for iPhone, Android, WebOs and your desktop

Coffee Junkie

It is official people! I am a coffee freak.

Cannot survive without drinking at least a cuppa once a day. If I drink one in the morning, I will survive for the ENTIRE day, without feeling de-energized (is that a word?) or lazy or sleepy and everything else that puts the fire out of your spirit.

Today, I braved myself not to drink one. Instead, I opted for English Breakfast Tea (I personally prefer Earl Grey any day, but most unfortunately such I am not in possession of *sigh*), with a pint of sugar.

Then the day came and went....and at around 2.45ish in the afternoon I feel my eyes sagging on me, and my shoulders drooping down.

So I knew I had to get my fix.

I did. And now I am wide awake. Figures.

Wednesday, 27 October 2010

I'm Still Little Old Awkward Me

No matter what picture people have painted in their mind about me, or what impression they seem to have of me, I just wanted to note today that the truth is, I am still that awkward, self-conscious and socially inept me.

I think I am better now than before, but deep down, I haven't changed. I still have to hand-write everything I want to say on yellow post-its before I can make a phone call just to keep myself from speaking like an idiot.

This is what I wrote yesterday while I was reading a book. It just came to my head, the thought. And it stuck:

"When I'm nervous I get horribly tongue-tied that I ramble off into space, and can warble on incessantly without making any or the least bit of sense. I thought I'd overcome this problem, but honestly, I haven't. I'm still that old weird and awkward me who stumbles when she talks and is perpetually unsure of herself - practically radiating lack of self-confidence from her pores. I cover it all up either by being perky or talking too much that it puts people off."

And, honestly I don't know if I can be graceful or elegant or smooth. If ever.BlogBooster-The most productive way for mobile blogging. BlogBooster is a multi-service blog editor for iPhone, Android, WebOs and your desktop

Saturday, 23 October 2010

Keeping Cool

What I am about to write is not a new topic - I think I may have posted at least twice already on the subject. But, I'm in an emotional upheaval right now, I need a place to vent, and I just basically really need to get this out of my system.

And hence this blogpost.

So what have I got to say today? Actually I already did mention the word in the first paragraph there - I have something to say about being 'emotional'.

In my previous posts, I think I mentioned that I really do not care what other people think of me, that they have free license to say whatever the hell they want to say about me, that really, what their mind is concocting about my character slash personality is no business of mine in any way.
If you ask me today whether I still feel that way, the answer is affirmative, yes, I really could not care less about what they or you have to say about me.

But, and here comes the 'bomb' - I'd like to add an extension to that statement, or rather, a clarifying clause to it.

I do not care what other people think of me, except those I call my friends (and by 'friend' I mean close friends or they who are in my inner circle), and those I am supposed to call family because of my birth. For these two categories of 'people', today I find myself in the situation that apparently, yes, I do still care.

I think that primarily, this is because that you would expect those two categories of people would be the ones who's got your back, who keep you up, and who lighten up your spirit instead of crushing them. Into dust. Or worse, nothingness. You can act so separatist from the world, but when it comes to your inner nucleus, it's hard to say that they do not matter. It's hard to disengage and detach yourself from caring. Because they make up who you are. Your life, whether or not you recognize it, revolves around them. And in the case of family, it's worse because you live with them. Well, obviously my last sentence there applies only to those of you who still live with members of your family, like me.

I won't be touching on the friends category today, because my problem at the moment is with the family.

Like my mom for instance. She has this...attitude (for want of a better word, I choose 'attitude'. Originally I wrote 'habit' but I don't think it would be the correct term) of always feeling like she has to put her two-cents in after every single time my father (notice I do not use the word 'dad') says something. A lecture, an angry statement, a scolding, a snappy complaint, whatever - my mom will be there to figuratively and literally, nod her head down and not only that, but give her assent too. I can't recall a time where she would defend me in front of him in front of my face. I can't recall a time where even if she would not defend me, she would at least say something to the contrary. Or better yet, just stay silent and be neutral.

That is one problem I have with her.

My second problem, which corroborates the first one, is how she would say one thing in front of me, then in front of my father - say the complete opposite. It's like she has to appear like she agrees with him on everything.

WHY???

I think I would not have such a problem with it if she maintained her position. You know, be constant. But no. She would appear to be understanding when I confide in her about something, then in front of my father, she too would confront me.

If she had from the start just told me what was really in her head, I would not find this as upsetting as this makes me.

And it just irks me so much, how after she does that, she can act like she didn't do anything wrong.

So I would really like to have the ability to numb oneself down. Like a block of ice. In the Antarctic. Unless there's a more permanent ice than that that you know of, then I'll take that one.

I am most upset, especially because right now, this time, presently, I am in need of her support. I do not need her berating me. I do not need her expressing her negativity. And most especially not, after she had portrayed some sort of positivity. Doing this, just completely shirked the carpet right off my feet. And I feel worse than drowned.

And you know, maybe I am too emotional about this. Maybe because I'm a girl. Great, so now I'm making it a gender thing. Which it isn't. But the point is, it seems like I can't completely detach myself from feeling.

So what, you may ask.

Well it's a shitty problem for me, because once I get like this, I don't feel like doing anything - period. Much less doing anything much. I lose all spirit. I lose motivation. I return to the child evidently still within me, sulking, and wish for nothing else but act so immaturely. My behavior becomes this: "OK, so that's what you think of me? Fine, then I'll be like what you think of me."

And so you can't tell me, after reading that, that I need to wake up. I am up. I've seen the glaring sunshine and rotting dirt - and I've just been dunked in quicksand. Right now, all I feel like doing is zilch.

I suppose I should grow thicker skin and brace myself up for the pain - get myself used to the beating. I know you are not getting that impression from me right now, but honestly speaking, I have. It's not the first time that this has happened. In fact, I've lost count. But I guess, every time it happens, I still somehow cannot erase that little spark of hope inside me that she would change. And I'm getting really tired, of keeping up my expectations.


Tuesday, 19 October 2010

Mobile blogging - check

As promised in my previous blog post, I am writing to confirm that yes, I can indeed blog from my mobile. Roger out. BlogBooster-The most productive way for mobile blogging. BlogBooster is a multi-service blog editor for iPhone, Android, WebOs and your desktop

Monday, 18 October 2010

Energy Booster - where art thou?


Courage is a quality so necessary for maintaining virtue, that it is always respected, even when it is associated with vice.

- Samuel Johnson

I so need this right now.

A Kid's Perspective

Kids have a way of making you feel silly for missing the finer points in life. My too smart baby sister reminds me often enough of that, as she did again this evening:

"I can't believe I'm twenty-four years old already," I sighed miserably into the mirror.

"I can't believe your butt is big," my sixth-grader sister comments in response.


Life sucks.

Sunday, 17 October 2010

Testing, one two three

So I got myself an iPhone after much debate and careful consideration. Apparently there is this application that I can use to update my posts straight from my phone. And that is what I'm testing now. I'll confirm in another post if this works. BlogBooster-The most productive way for mobile blogging. BlogBooster is a multi-service blog editor for iPhone, Android, WebOs and your desktop

Thursday, 14 October 2010

My Secrets*

I was randomly browsing through the worldwideweb today, and stumbled upon this brilliant, brilliant essay, written by I think, a student from Yale: Lydia Martin. Her prose is unlike most of what I've ever come across. And right now, I'd kill to be able to write like her. She captures so beautifully what is in my heart.

So because I happen to be a graduate of law, and I don't want no copyrights claim coming at me, please note my disclaimer of what I will be quoting below. It is fully the work of Lydia Martin, including the starred title of this blogpost, and fully, all credits go to her.

Below I quote several parts of her essay that I love the most. I hope it will inspire anyone reading, like it did me. Read this while listening to Ben Jorgensen's 'Only Just a Memory'. Perfection has never felt so close to me.

"My Secrets"
"I walk off the subway. Cars, people, ambitions charge by. City thrashes without hesitation or apology. No stillness. No pause. People do not see where they are.
...

Just one second and the door closes. Eyes and ears shut. I am alone again. City melts, and questions quietly float away....With silence around, I can breathe again.

...
I flip the pages of her essay. She may pretend it is not linear, but there are still lines to be read.
...

I live only in me, and am surprised that others cannot see inside. Face wiped clean. Sweaters oversized. Everyone else tan and skin-tight. ...Our barriers are more real to me than our connections....I do not value your gossip....I refuse to play the game, and so cannot mind that you pick me last.
...
...I beam from everywhere. The happiness is shared, created by two. Smiles can now be spoken. They burst out. Forget stillness. I want to dance.

Knowledge and work and people who think like me. We were not the most popular, the most beautiful, the most likely to win. We lived inside, working to create the people we wanted to be. Against the bidding of others. And we survived.
...
Scents in my nose, swinging emotions in my gut. Lost on your ears.

A story is told as much by silence and by speech.

...
You and I are disparate. Our thoughts disagree....Even facts are false, filtered by the minds and mouths of informants.
...
Like the concentration camps he commands, in many ways he remains absent to himself.

...
I cannot be tied to others' happiness. I coil away to protect both of us. Before taught me to be on my own, and now is letting my enjoy it.
...
Maybe I am a complex web of confusion, in need of a storyteller who can figure me out.
...
But this diminishes reality. ...sewing together fragments, forgetting that the spaces between the pieces are more important than the rest.
...
Griffin, do not sew me together to create a sensible figure, worthy of understanding. You cannot capture me and keep me whole. You cannot make me frown and then tell me to smile. You cannot demand my secrets and then fill in the holes with your own. I am neither linear nor explicable.
...

Like the white spaces in an etching, such silences render form. But unlike an etching in which the whole is grasped at once the silence of a story must be understood over time.

I am a woman on the desert island, deciding to stay in the sand. I am Himmler keeping my secrets inside. I am Griffin begging for them to be heard. I am neither of them and none of you. If you were to tell my story, you would get it wrong. Don't classify my actions, nor interpret my notes. Life is known only from the inside.

No, I cannot share my secrets." - Lydia Martin, English 114: Writing Seminars 1

Wednesday, 13 October 2010

Seeing Doubles

One of the things I resent most is how some people employ double standards. I use the word 'resent' in lieu of 'hate', not only because it more properly explains how I feel, but also because these days I'm trying to keep my toe out of that line called 'hate'. Hate is only several inches short of love, some people say - and I'll choke myself up before I go there.

But I digress. Going back to doubles then, it astounds me how people can choose to act one way, and decide that others cannot likewise choose to act in that same way. Ever heard of democracy people? Or better yet, freedom of expression?

I am not saying that I have a problem with how one would choose to make a decision. In fact, I really could not care less. I was not asked for my opinion, and even after I was somehow linked to the issue by another, I was still not asked for my opinion. If a decision is subsequently made then, how is it that anyone in their right mind can consciously come to the conclusion that I too, was involved? And/or, I too, should take responsibility? Why am I not allowed to be free of any strings that more than likely would be attached to that decision? In case ya'll are blind and/or stupid and can't understand me: hello, I didn't make the decision!

So hell no, and fuck you.

I in no way ever limited or even expressed in any manner my objection to the decision. I never once questioned that anyone has the authority to make decisions - with or without my involvement. It is always your choice to act, in however manner you deem fit, in whatever way you deem wise. I really don't give a fig.

Oh, and furthermore, by the way, you once made that choice to leave your hands clean of any responsibility! And in fact, even in this case, after you've had your say, you just up and left, but not before leaving us with an order to bloody fix the mess! Pray tell, how are you acting any different?
Excuse me while I comment: if ever there is a pot calling the kettle black, you damn well just personified the action.

I won't bother responding, and I don't care what others may choose to say about me. I've been crushed and stepped on and stabbed in the front and spit on and whatever else worse act you can think of, been there. I don't have a need to justify myself to you. You want to think of me in a certain way, go ahead. You want to impose judgments and label a stamp over my action, do it. I won't deign myself to waste time responding to it - it's not going to do me any good. Because why? Because ultimately, whatever you or anyone chooses to think about me, I have no control over. So make yourselves happy - I'll be having my own tango in my backyard with limed tequila and a heck of a book for company.

P.S. If anyone needs to question their neutrality, it sure as hell isn't me. I'm only one of the few sane ones left who don't want the whole house of cards to fall apart in waste. But hey, it's your party.





Tuesday, 5 October 2010

It's Not Washing Out

"Why, Flynn? Why can't we move on past this stupid wall between us? I miss you. I miss us. Don't you miss us, Flynn? And you're breaking my heart, when you promised me you wouldn't Flynn! Why!" Lily cried out as she angrily swiped at her tears with her sleeve.

Flynn shut his eyes tight at the sight of her tears, trying to hold back his own that threatened to fall. He felt like splinters were razoring his insides, cutting deep. It was a while before he managed to speak, his throat having gone desert-dry. "Some things just don't wash out, Lily. That includes heartbreak," Flynn said brokenly, "So don't you hold me to that. You failed to keep mine."

***
I think I'm going to call this one "Castles". This was inspired by "So in love" by The Icarus Account - an insanely talented band. Love. Love.