paying back your work debt by taking a loan from the sleep bank. so that you don’t get smelly when the defecation hits that oscillation. and trust me kids. its gonna fucking happen.
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when i see a couple enter a love hotel to bump uglies, i retch. i retch, because i imagine a roiling mass of fat and hair and sweat stretching a queen sized bed to the limits of its cheap wood and nail rig. why, perhaps the guy who hammered the nails into that particular bed could be fucking hammering and nailing on top of it right now.
hotel 81.
i really really hate the fact that hotel 81 is near my house. really. i went to but a bottle of 100plus and a can of red bull(not gonna sleep for the next 2 days) when i passed by this couple walk in to hotel 81. the old man had his hand so far up his woman’s skirt, he might as well changed his name to Gepetto.
you think to your self, that is one, ugly fucking mother fucker. and then you double back and realize in horror he could actually be a motherfaaaaaa…
and then you walk past the dingy shopping center where you cut your hair and take now and then whilst waiting for mom to come home and open the door since you forgot your keys… and you suddenly realise the amount of ass sold and snorted on in your vicinity might actually amount for more business than all the other establishments combined. two “hotels”, four”massage parlours” and one karaoke “lounge”. women dolled up with cartoony makeup. mamasan always touting me when i step out of the lift. 7-11 sells energy drinks, snacks, smokes, beers, coffee…. everythign you need.prata shop and durian shop provide the right kind of steamy stinky atmosphere to complement the general atmosphere of this lovely little cottage industry that caters to the people in my area who need to get on their good foot and do that bad thing, for less than a hundred bucks.
then you remmember that you still have 2 essays due last week and 5 lectures worth of notes and tutorials to sift through and one set of project and to top it off fyp which occupies an average of 20% of my thoughts at any time. so you walk off, into the orangey “darkness” of the night.
i will one day move out of serangoon. and this is the only thing i wont miss about this place. peace.
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this was a really eventful weekend. didnt get much work done. but it was fun.
on saturday.
graffiti workshop. hung out with rrrr and clavin. learnt the awesomeness of pink spray paint. hopefully i can enter the competition as well. not many thoughts with respect to this. i do know that i will one day leave my own marks on the walls of sg too. but i need to stop procastinating. moving right along to stop 2.trust me kids, theres alot to cover here. and btw, aids is bad for u.
yys bdae. walked for one fucking hour looking for the guys. covered almost 80% of east coast park. ate some cake. couldnt hang out more since i had other places to be and more people to meet. had the pleasure of seeing the book detailing stick and balloons trip thru europe. a real treat! the place they chose to chill out was actually pretty awesome. it was quiet. not too sandy. the view of the sunset made my day. then had to rush to meet andy and got to stop 3!
play.had to watch one for my drama class.
we watched a play that i will say was more style than substance. i’ll also say this was not a problem for me, for my shallow self was in absolute joy watching the play. there was one particular scene which seriously made my 25 dollars worth it. one of the actresses was describing a car crash and when she said BANG!, she said it as bang. in a normal, if not slightly softer tone. and the lights changed for the duration of that word to a deep deep inky red and immediately switched back and things went on as per normal. very cool. alot of things i saw in the play could be applied directly into animation as very very effective and economic storytelling technique. excited.
ive always had this smug concept that everyone outside adm in ntu was cattle. which is true for the most part. but its never a good idea to underestimate your peers. more than once ive seen ideas and levels of thinking far superior to my own. more often than not during this class… its been pointed out to me that ive fallen into a particular mould, a closed minded thought process moulded by 3 years of exposure to only one type of media. oh the irony. i’m supposed to be one of the ‘creatives’ but im just another cow in many areas, not just in physicality.
its sad i couldnt take any pics. andy and siti seem like pretty cool ppls, but i felt quite under dressed standing next to siti who was looking very very pretty todae. hot damn.take a moment to process that. so i kept my camera to myself. met jeremy there. that was a treat. cabbed with siti to stop 4, which was also the final stop for the day. had some interesting, if at times overly reminiscent cab conversation on the way, punctuated with moments of wtf, mind you, not initiated by me -_____- . cab conversation has its own special appeal, because of the unpredictable duration it lasts. the fact that more often than not you feel pressured to talk to the person next to you to get the full worth of your fare, to pass the time… to not have to stare at your phone as if you have some important message coming in… the intimate quality of vinyl seats moving at an average of 80kmph is not to be taken lightly, everyone makes a connection during this stage. even with the cab driver this can be achieved, although its abit difficult to do so since he needs to keep is fucking eyes on the road. so moving right along… part 4.
nicoles bdae
got there in time for the cake cutting. managed to keep to my no alcohol policy for the most part. but had one quarter of a draft before i left. felt some guilt, which is good. took some pics with my buddies frm year one. love them to bits. but you already knew that didnt you.
sunday was spent in bed and on my chair, watching family guy and flash forward. thinking about pretty girls with smarts and my superficial self.
at about 1030 i finally got to doing work, and walked to 7-11 to get some battery juice.
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what if fyp turns into a nightmare?
a question that grips my throat everytime i take a shit or take a walk or sip my coffee. the complexity and the epicness of the various gags and transitions and effects we have crammed into our story frightens me whilst at the same time excites me. for whilst the spectre of failure looms everytime i switch on maya, the hope that i might finally achieve awesome is intoxicating. so very very seductive. so i soldier on. i push my life around. i dont do my fucking essays and i skip out on meetings, so i can do my fyp. and i dont regret it. because the kids at calarts and sheridan and gobelins and supinfocom dont have to put up with shit like french and business finance. so neither do i.
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kader.i love all my friends and im gonna miss adm when i graduate. i wont miss ntu thou.
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