Q

tbh.

Yes, it’s true.

I like girls.

edit: tbh meaning tryna be humorous because I WUZ KIDDING and also because blog hits doubled since i left i think most of you are silently speculating about me now.

at first it was amusing when i went around asking people ‘would you believe if i told you i were gay?’ in my most serious voice and mostly without hesitation or surprise people accepted it.

it’s both heartening, slightly amusing, and now mildly worrying.

so ok NO. this is just another one of my social experiments. GLORIA you should stop getting me excited over retarded ideas knowing full well it’ll lead to social awkwardness just because ‘it was funnayyye’.

KTHNX EVERYONE I AM GOING OFF TO DROOL AT ORLANDO BLOOM TO AFFIRM MY SEXUALITY BYE.

October 23, 2011
my obsession with inanimate objects.

like i’ve said before, i devote an abnormal amount of feeling to inanimate objects. by that i don’t mean i love an object very much for the purpose it serves or can’t live without it, et cetera. the object itself, to me, takes on the characteristic and value of a living entity. in some cases i unconsciously personify these objects, believing them to have feelings (of jealousy, fear, joy).

i know i sound like a serious psycho now, haha – this post has the potential of irrevocably marring my image, but idrc. so, RIGHT. i’ve done my bit of research and the closest description i’ve got for this strange obsession is OCD. which i think everyone has mildly, including myself. on the spectrum of type-writer neat handwriting to arranging my books parallel to my bed or anything, i’m on the occasional urge to tap my other knee if i tap one/need to knock on a surface before i leave a place/inexplicable compulsion to count to a particular number/uncontrollable want to reread the previous page of a novel for no apparent reason range.. OK MAYBE I SHOULD STOP HERE.

so yesterday after i woke up in the middle of the night and thought WHERE IS MY HEATHER GRAY UNDERWEAR I HAVE NOT SEEN IT FOR A LONG TIME I MISS IT, i woke up the next morning thinking, hell. i’m weird. so throughout the day i’ve been listing things i’ve had a strange level of preoccupation with, in descending degrees of cuteness and ascending degrees of creepiness.

a) soft toy(s)

ok this started out as a cute, common thing. i had this yellow teletubby that i brought EVERYWHERE and by everywhere i mean to school and malls and restaurants. before that there was a dog, and in between a slew of other toys i paid extreme attention to as a child. BUT NONE OF THIS WERE, YKNW, ~REAL. until Dinky Danky Ralphie Stein came along. when i first saw it – i know this sounds really dumb but – i just KNEW i had to get it. like it was destined to be mine, i just knew. yes, yes the psycho vibes are reaching from your monitor and molesting you with my oddness, but seriously k.

THIS is where the real psycho bits begin: once ddrs was mine, i started attributing hominal characteristics to it. when G was being crazy and twisted its neck i felt actual FEAR that it might get hurt. i’m slightly ashamed to admit this, but since the entire drama class have witnessed this already – yes, i cried. i mean, my sane side told me it doesn’t really matter, but that creepy inanimate-loving side was just like NOOOO HE’S IN PAAAAAIN~~~ ikr.

i didn’t really take note of my preoccupation any further, since soft toys are very often the subject of obsession (especially in st. nicks, strange). but sometimes i’d catch myself unconsciously placing ddrs strategically among the other toys so IT WOULDN’T BE JEALOUS (that I was favoring the others) WHAT EVEN. also i can’t sleep very well without it, but that’s ( i think) what many struggle with. right? like mr bean. and. others..

b) pet rock/pet ball

at this point i’m thinking – DOES THIS HAPPEN TO EVERYONE, or is it just me? i’ve always assumed having a pet rock is ordinary, because it’s all over Enid Blyton and Beverly Clearys. in fact those were where i got the pet rock idea from. so yes, i stole a rock out of the stone painting kit my mom bought me and just kept it around with me all the time. it was quite a long time ago so i don’t remember exactly what i did to it – but i do know for certain that 1. it had a name 2. i HAD to have it with me at all times 3. i was pretty damn obsessed with it – now when i try to search for that obsession, i can almost feel a tiny spark of intense protectiveness and love i had for.. the rock.

then again, i was young and foolish and that phase passed soon enough. there was another that preceded the rock, in primary 1 i remember. it was a pink rubber ball with a smiley face on it i might have acquired off the road for all i know. i named it Jezebelle. at that time i didn’t know that meant whore (come to think of it, that was scarily accurate in portending my future self). again, i’m not sure what i did with it – many, many things (none sexual), and like the rock i can remember clearly my passionate belief that Jezebelle was a precious, precious thing that understood me and experienced emotions (joy, primarily, for that’s the only expression it was capable of).

i’m surprised i still had (many) friends back then. more surprising is that they remained my friends despite what happened later on. we’re coming to that.

c) a bubble

right. the bubble was just a one off, cute episode i’ve artfully slipped in the middle so you’ll remember that behind the slightly deranged self i’m now projecting is an innocent, sweet, conservative, virginal asian girl to be likened to Spongebob. in fact i was kind of glad when i watched the episode with spongebob and his bubble buddy because it made me realize i’m not insane. spongebob saved my life.

so anyhus, a friend told me how wonderful it was to make soap bubbles while bathing. so that one day i tried and randomly created a small, solid little bubble that i thought was the most beautiful bubble – nay, thing – in the world. (HELL YEA I JUST USED AN ANCIENT SPEECH PATTERN SPONTANEOUSLY. who in hell besides horses says NAY anymore!?) so entranced was i by it’s simple, unadulterated beauty i sat there immobile for what felt like half an hour – which i think was actually five minutes in a non-9-year-old time frame – with the bubble on my hand because i was certain it would burst. it did. actually it was because i breathed so hard it popped. so..

cute right.

d) pokemon

i know all kids were once (or will always be) obsessed with pokemon – the game. i don’t know how many are preoccupied with the pokemon themselves. the game became so real to me, each pokemon i had, i channelled all my maternal love and compassion and consideration into. as proof, you can go though my archives if you have no life and find the post where i went on fervently about how i was so glad my kyogre ‘seemes to like (me)’ apparently stated in its stats, and how i’d never allow my pokemon to faint in battle, ever, because to me that’s betrayal yadda yadda geek. also when i witnessed my swablu’s first evolution through my sister (who borrowed my ds) i was terribly upset because in my thorough emotional entrenchment towards pokemon i wanted it to be a ~special moment between the pokemon and i.

even i am grossed out, a little. right so in summary i truly, truly loved those pokemon – not love as in i love the game i love pokemon, but they were something else entirely. they were mine, and they knew me and i in turn saw myself as their protector. this is where you may start doubting my cuteness and sanity again.

e) my bed

many times in this space i’ve extolled my bed and its general awesomeness and my love for it. my bed and i, we go a long way. it understands me, i understand it. same story as with the rest, except each object is like a.. different friend. i’ve been avoiding this analogy for really long because not only is it clichéd, i am automatically illustrated as a friendless loser (i’m a loser, just with lots of friends plskthnx). but really that’s how i feel about these things.

i had a phase where anyone who touched/laid on my bed without my permission immediately gets banished to my mental blacklist of undesirables. i still remember who they are. dum dum DUM. not a very safe thing to randomly mess with the bed of a potential psychopath now huh.

f) underwear

i pay a lot of attention to my underwear and each one has a special significance to me. the type and color and material are #punnypun immaterial, really. it’s nothing much, tbh. i just spend an extraordinary amount planning and thinking about my undies.

g) rulers

RULERS. RULERSRULERSRULERS. i think anyone who’ve sat with me during class or studied with me would know i’m fixated with stationary – not that i like stationary but they are kind of.. oh fine – MY FRIENDS. it started in secondary two, when i felt a bizarre affinity with one of my rulers, just the usual 40 cents bendable gray-transparent ones.

it just occurred to me how beautiful it was in it’s symmetry, in it’s simplicity and instantly it was personified in my books FOR LIFE. i kept this ruler for as long as i could, with the name Theophilus Mortimark (and used it wherever possible). later it got lost and i was very – and i mean VERY – upset.

i don’t know who’d recall this, but at first i thought someone stole it and went berserk. and then i realized no one really would steal a 40 cents ruler, so i concluded i lost it. WHICH INCITED THE MOST IMMENSE RUSH OF GUILT I’VE EVER FELT FOR AN INANIMATE OBJECT. i was genuinely sorry that i’d misplaced it and led to it’s eternal ferment in probably a corner of the science lab or something.

there was TheoMark the II and a series of others. i’ve learnt not to go loco when they are (inevitably) lost, but will put in an unnatural amount of effort trying to get them back (such as sending frantic mass texts to all my friends ‘HAVE YOU SEEN MORTIMARK?!?’ [also i love how by then they all knew what i was referring to]). even now i’ve never rid of my strange excitement and joy upon using/owning a ruler. except now i’m a lot smarter and keep AT LEAST two rulers – which i love equally (yknw, in case they get jealous and.. yes. right) – at all times.

h) a tube of insect corpse

HAHAHAHAHAHA frankly this doesn’t rank in the obsession list, but it’s just here because i secretly enjoy portraying myself as grotesquely as possible. but really, it amazes me in retrospect how tolerant my primary school classmates were. i can quite certainly say that CHIJ oln produces a hell lot of weird but amazing kids (Cleo, Celine, Chloe, Rach Pung, Kelicia and i to name a few).

i assure you it was due to childish, scientific and intellectual curiosity that i pursued this collection. so you know we had those anti-drug pins every year –

A DIGRESSION: (which i wrote an essay about – it explained at length how the persistent campaign against drugs only served to raise awareness of drugs and its many uses, elevating it to a state not possible if left alone. i mean c’mon. you were a primary school child, you get books and pins and talks about how people abuse drugs to ‘FEEL HAPPY’, ‘ESCAPE PAIN’ and ‘EXPERIENCE HIGH’, while the supposed effects were portrayed by scantily sketched cartoon boys cowering in the corner sniffling, wouldn’t you think HELL i wanna feel happy too! let me take some drugs and sit in a corner sniffing like a zombie for a few days – it’s worth it! if they left the cautionary campaigns alone, kids mostly won’t even KNOW about drugs. SO YES which i submitted to an amused but slightly concerned teacher).

– so these drug pins came in tubes with a rounded glass top and a flat bottom which doubled as removable lid. i caught a few ants and held them captive in the tube. they died, obviously, so i filled the tube with water and carried it around for a period of time. it might have lasted a few days. i’m pretty sure my classmates were fascinated by it. i don’t remember any criticism – or maybe they could already tell i was psycho and were too afraid to agitate me.

i have no idea why i did it, or why i even remember this. it’s not that i’m a cruel ant abuser either (though i have several creative and superbly cruel methods of torture). sometime after this episode i actually adopted a pet ant, which i named Anthony. i had Anthony for half a day, and when we were having assembly, CELINE ONG killed Anthony. i cried.

Kelicia initiated a moment of silence for Anthony after assembly in class, where we – THE ENTIRE CLASS – actually prayed a full minute for poor Anthony whose brothers i had held in a macabre aquarium of sorts. (or rather sisters, since worker ants are all female. knowledgeable me.)

in recording my strange obsession for inanimate stuff, i’ve come to the following conclusion, that:

1. i need a pet really bad.
2. i just have too much love for everything and everyone.
3. inanimate objects that are beautiful are worthy of love akin to that towards living entities.
4. my friends are equally strange (or just extraordinary tolerant, but i believe the former), which contributes a lot to my deviation to strange child.
5. i am a strange, strange child.

September 29, 2011
stuff I’m reading, for lack of a better title

in between re-establishing my social life, i’m trying to squeeze in as many novels as i can before the last lap of pre-As mugging begin (MOTHEROF-).

1.

finished Amélie Nothomb’s Hygiene and the Assassin. smart, clean, and Pretextat Tach is convincingly a genius. i don’t know if it’s metafiction, but while reading i’m consciously evaluating the book with the author’s own literary criticism. it’s as if instead of focussing on the plot i’m just constantly catching bits of revelation Nothomb’s plating out. it’s just smart, really smart. reminds me of Wilde’s Importance earlier in the book with all it’s epigrams referring to literature and culture (in fact it does allude to Oscar Wilde about midway through. i love how texts influence each other). it degenerates slightly towards the end though. when pretextat flounders it becomes less enjoyable for me, and it drifts into a kind of surrealism which is pretty unlike the practical preciseness pretextat displays formally. STILL, worth the read. in fact, i’ll say please go read it asap.

2.

halfway through Milan Kundera’s Identity. it’s romance with heavy focus on self and self’s ship with another, without the chicklit-drama nor the subplot, which i don’t like because i’m shallow and bored. so i’ve decided to drop it and move on to something more productive such as math – yeah right. such as reading Skippy Dies. which is slightly lengthier than i can afford now, so we’ll see. so far i only like the parts about Howard the Coward and the fat math geek. i don’t get Skippy and his constant drugged out state, because i am a conservative virginal as- yea you get the idea.

3.

speaking of Kundera and inter-textuality, it occurred to me that Everything is Illuminated was probably inspired by The Unbearable Lightness of Being. alright i may be wrong, but the exact phrase – everything is illuminated – appears in Lightness, and the overall style of Illuminated is reminiscent of it.. right? ok maybe i’m just reading too much into it. LOL. READING. HAHA, HAHA, HAHA. ->PUN<-

4.

fat math geek from Skippy Dies and the Big Bang Theory and also Doctor Who makes me wish i were born extremely science&math-oriented. if i could rock physics i’ll wear thinkgeek shirts exclusively and plaster my room with accurate DayGlo replicates of constellations and have all sorts of sciency gadgets. and i’ll watch bad sci-fi movies without cringing and take apart my graphic calculator.

the nearest i got to being a geek was in secondary two at the peak of my internet usage, where i double-encrypted some strange message with strange computer code that even today i cannot fully figure out how to decode. which now that i think of it was just a cruel time warp so my younger self could serve as a tool to underscore the loserness of my current self.

but seriously, if i could choose i’d want to be a geek. and do all sorts of geeky wonderful stuff and i want to hang out in comic book stores (and also get pissed off when people call it comic books, cuz they’re graphic novels). unfortunately i’m much more adept at analysing personalities off the Great Gatsby than understand a fraction of string theory. :-( THIS LIFE IS NOT MINE TO CHOOSE.

wow, to be a physicist..

September 27, 2011
say i’m a celebrity

Say i’m a celebrity and people would actually love to know my latest going-ons, no matter how mundane.

1.

i hate paper. i hate paper. i hate paper. this isn’t technically an update, but i just have a compulsion to reiterate how much i hate paper, especially loose paper. i can’t sleep if there’s a loose sheet of paper somewhere in the room, i can’t. i hate the feel, the sound, the sight of loose paper. strangely i have an almost obsessive love for paper bags. i hate plastic bags. almost as much as i hate paper. almost. yes as you can tell i have an abnormally high level of feeling towards inanimate objects. you should see me with rulers.

2.

AFTER THE MATH PAPER. A16 girls went to town, where we were let loose into H&M. Debbie and I went slightly crazy with pent up prelims angst, which we channelled very effectively into shopping. the harvest was great, if not slightly guilt-inducing. somewhere in my subconscious i know sooner or later everyone in Singapore will look H&M spawned clones, but rn: i haz new top new shorts new dress new bag – and i know i know i’m starting to sound like a blogshop lian (a term i am now much familiar with because beni and xin constantly accuse me of looking like one). so i shall stop.

3.

after which, CRAZY STUPID LOVE which has Emma Stone – that’s really reason enough to love the movie, because EVERYTHING with Emma Stone is bound to be good if not awesome. C’mon I mean, Superbad, House Bunny, Zombieland, Easy A? That’s almost too many movies to be in that’s awesome. anyway, RYAN GOSLING. who is attractive to me not (only) because of hot bod, but also because he has the cutest way of speaking.. slightly like a retarded confused child, but a sexy sexy child. i don’t know.

Steve Carrell was surprisingly good in this. I couldn’t understand why he’s a comedian in most of his previous films. He’s more like a blank slate upon which funny things happen, which is then funny. In Crazy Stupid Love he’s funny in the most natural way possible, and he was really ~intense and charming after his transformation. I like that.

4.

the next day town with Shereen~~~ we wandered around like the strange confused children we are, basically. later with Beni, Cel and Daphne, we wandered around some more like strange confused people and then had an outdoor picnic with texas chicken.

also, we successfully embarrassed ourselves sans Daphne who just looked at us condescendingly and occasionally chucked bits of chicken at us in disgust. Shereen did a demonstration of a dance in public, inciting an indian boy to yell ‘DUMB’ at her. Celine basically flashed her knickers at the world. Benita yelled ‘GONORRHOEA’ into the phone when we were trial testing whether Voice Control recognized that as Gloria. I saw the scariest shit-rat running across the fountain ledge and jumped up shrieking. by the end of the dinner I was pretty sure there was a crowd gathered at the upper level watching us in amusement/condescension.

went to the Icing Room and spent ages mucking around with icing getting Mandee’s cake done. by the way our cake was seriously the best out of everyone’s around. without prejudice it was truly a spectacular cake.

5.

MORNING~ Cleo, Shereen and I went to Manda’s to ~surprise her. so we hung around the poolside with Mandee and her nicenice AC pals where we struggled to see who could embarrass the other more. In the end we didn’t have to try. Just by being Amanda, she was the living embodiment of hilarious. In the most endearing way possible of course, Amanda!

then we went off in our jolly way to V’S SURPRISE with Nat, Dionne and Geeloria joining us!

6.

VANESSA’S 18TH~ at Cineleisure kbox which was just ~WOAH with the scrapbooks and buffet and pool and karaoke. being the strange children we are, however, the greatest part of the day was probably singing YMCA very enthusiastically – actions and all – with Vanessa’s adorable folks. It’s between that and our very excited rapping of Low.

7.

Dionne, Nat, Shreen and I joined the queue for H&M, went in, and stood at a corner being a general obstruction just chillin’~. Hell yeah we are 2cool4school we enter random boutiques to chat. ‘hey let’s go to the lingerie section’ ‘yeah because there are less people there we can talk in peace.’ truly we are strange children.

8.

currently reading:

elephant vanishes by murakami
hygiene and the assassin by amelie nothomb
identity by kundera
skippy dies by paul murray

i tried this thing where i read books simultaneously, but it doesn’t work very well. i can’t quite grasp each book while alternating. so i dropped identity and skippy for later. finished elephant vanishes, is typical murakami. i don’t know why i read him because i want conclusive endings which he doesn’t give. i’m a very traditional, conservative, and virginal asian girl you see. but this one is a collection of short stories which is very tolerable. concise, lasting. especially ‘sleep’ and ‘a family affar’.

hygiene i’m starting to get into it, but i have a feeling i love it already. check out these lines:

‘They went on to support their thesis by citing authors with esoteric names, whose works they themselves had not read, a fact which enabled them to speak about them penetratingly.’

‘I left one novel unfinished. That’s fine: in a successful career, you must always have one unfinished novel if you are to be taken seriously. Otherwise, they think you’re a third rate writer.’

‘I told you, I became a gourmet.’ ‘Full time?’ ‘Let’s say, rather, full capacity.’

can i just say, i would totally believe you if you told me these were taken from Importance. These epigrams are ridiculously reminiscent of Wilde’s innit? The writer’s secretary’s named Ernest. I’m almost positively this text is influenced somehow by Importance, and when i’m done i’ll let y’all know again.

9.

new green tea shampoo. this MAY sound vapid, but you have no idea how profoundly concerned i am about shampoo and green tea. i think about shampoo quite a lot, i mean probably more than the recommended average. it occupies maybe 3% of my daily thoughts. green tea, on the other hand, takes up about 7% i would think. together they take up 1/10th of my everyday life, and thus qualify as a whole point of update. yes. that. new green tea shampoo. which as a kid i’ve tried to extract the scent essence from when i was still young, confused, geeky and have just discovered search engines.

now i’m just confused.

10.

goodnight!

September 24, 2011
the three gibbet crossroads

The Three Gibbet Crossroads

Told in I.i. A man wakes up in an iron gibbet, aware that he has committed the crime he is being punished for, but unaware what the crime was. He sees two other gibbets, one marked Murderer and the other marked Rapist. Several people come by who have sympathy for the murderer and the rapist, but only disgust for the first man when they read the sign declaring his crime. The man is shot by a highwayman, still unable to determine what crime he could have committed that would be worse than murder or rape.

– Katurian’s story in The Pillowman, from Wikipedia

September 18, 2011
broke loose

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.

– neruda

September 15, 2011
BRACES.

YES.

I NOW LOOK AND SOUND LIKE A RETARD ^ (more than I usually do anyways).

Besides the existential crisis I had at Nex after buying a hell lot of food and not being able to eat them despite forcing it down my throat, and also the disgusting lisp I’ve developed, I’m fine.

I think.

Not really.

I CAN’T EAT. WHAT IS LIFE.

My post-braces menu consists of a shit load of milk based beverage, ONE MAEFFING FRIED CHICKEN I SHOVED DOWN DEFYING ALL DENTAL LOGIC, one bite of a german sausage, tau huey (acceptable), soup (not), and half a bowl of chocolate oatmeal which frankly tastes like what I imagine Willy Wonka’s puke to be (i.e not bad tasting but still really gross).

HOW DO PEOPLE DO THIS? I have an additional lingual arch, I’m not sure how common it is, but anyway it’s this plastic tray that rests on the roof of your mouth. It takes away 50% of taste in everything I eat, and makes me vocally defunct.

I can’t really pronounce -tion, or Rs or Ss. Actually everything I say just sounds really dumb now. Previously I could say really dumb stuff and.. sort of get away with it because I say it loud and proud. THIS WILL NO LONGER WORK.

WHAT IF LIFE WHAT IS LIFE. I’m regretting it slightly also because I miss my deformed bunny/canine teeth which c’mon la is frankly quite adorable right. OK NO. I’m just going through a phase CAN’T EAT CAN’T TALK without sounding like a ‘tard. It is very challenging for me to think of a me who can’t talk nor eat it’s just weird because that’s basically all I do most of the time.

ALSO PRELIMS IN LESS THAN A WEEK HOHO. KILL ME NOW BYE.

September 6, 2011
Stunning.

August 20, 2011
why Lord of the Flies is a classic.

‘Why do you hate me?’

For the longest time possible, I thought LOTF was a parody of lord of the rings… because I’m just a loser like that. When I realized that it isn’t – and furthermore has been compared to the Catcher in the Rye (which I love), I decided to read it. That I finally did. IT WAS BRILLIANT.

I’ve loved books because they were really wise, or had a great plot, or cool gimmicks, or pretty language. LOTF was just purely, simply, well-written. It captured the essence I was hoping to find in The Hunger Games (which was disappointing). Also curious is that a LOTF-inspired AC play I watched (before reading) helped me appreciate the reading process a lot; at the same time the play seems much better in hindsight after having read it.

Anyway. This is the first novel since Life of Pi that’s succeeded in sticking with me throughout the Day After Read (I have a poor attention span). Kept replaying my favourite scenes and images, and since I’m so distracted why not vent it all here? Of course when I fail my As y’all can just refer me back to this page as evidence of my academic inertia. But whatever for now la hor.

Best moments in LOTF (WARNING: THERE ARE MANY. WARNING #2: SPOILERS.)

Piggy’s ostracism. I love the way Piggy was already marginalised in the beginning, hinting at the shadow of cruelty inherent in all mankind. Except here it’s just emotional bullying; an acceptable, subtle form of torture. Watch out for what happens later.

I love Jake and the choir’s entry. All black robes and caps with matching badges and straight rows – already intimidating but still familiar (okay fine I was thinking death eaters). It’s a parallel to their tribe later on (exciting stuff), which I find to be genius. All structure and order and uniform, except now they’re identified – which makes all the world of difference.

As a tribe they were equally structured – keeping rhythms with drums and using the same weapons, and the hauntingly organized manner they searched for Ralph with ululations. Except this time, they have war paint on. The war paint serves as a mask of anonymity, a heavy symbol in LOTF (also extensively explored online: Google deindividuation).

Essentially, Golding is saying that civilisation is a bunch of labelled barbarians. The only thing keeping us from tearing at each other’s intestines with our bare teeth is the fact that we’re given an identity. Our age, race, nationality, class, right down to our identification numbers. We become an accounted for member of society and therefore adhere to social conduct. That’s basically the only reason why we’re not savages. But back to the book.

There were a few couple of scenes leading to the final loss of humanity, and each were so well sculpted. Jake’s first encounter with the pig. He was appointed a hunter, he had the knife, was supposed to kill, but didn’t. Civilisation and it’s rules were ingrained in him. But he says – I think under embarrassment – ‘next time, I will do it’ with an almost painful determination. He becomes obsessed with hunting and once he made his first kill it was all he wanted to do after.

Roger’s scene with the little ones. Roger felt the sudden desire to hit the young un with stones, but only dared to throw around the boy. I particularly loved the line ‘Here, invisible yet strong, was the taboo of old life. Round the squatting child was the protection of parents and school and the policemen and the law.’ But they were on an uninhabited island. I loved how the power of rules drilled into us can be restricting even when we know, logically, there are no consequences to it. Also I loved how it wasn’t compassion or propriety that kept Roger from hurting another, but just the concept of a distant rule he was once made to follow.
Early in the novel before the dark stuff begins, Ralph, Jake and Simon (they’re all under 13) explored the island for a bit. At this point they were full of hope and camaraderie and youthful foolishness, totally oblivious of what’s about to happen.

Ralph would, in a few weeks, reminisce about these few hours as a ‘brighter childhood’. It sounds ridiculous, but it’s exact truthfulness makes it beautiful. Halfway into the plot I felt myself looking back at it as precisely that. A brighter childhood. Which makes my recalling of my own brighter childhood so much less silly (to me at least).

One of my favourite scenes tied to this brighter childhood is that of the mirage. Ohmygoshitisso. I reread this bit of description over and over trying to picture it. (alright just spent ages Googling the quote):
“Strange things happened at midday. The glittering sea rose up, moved apart in planes of blatant impossibility; the coral reef and the few, stunted palms that clung to the more elevated parts would float up into the sky, would quiver, be plucked apart, run like rain-drops on a wire or be repeated as in an odd succession of mirrors. Sometimes land loomed where there was no land and flickered out like a bubble as the children watched.”

Throughout the novel you learn that the mirage takes away reason and reality, and kind of distorts their view, literally and metaphorically, into viewing rescue as a possibility.

One of the classic scenes of LOTF, and probably what you’d call a climax, is when Simon spirals into madness. Spiralling into madness is a phrase I will never escape from after taking Paper 1 lit. The insanity was reminiscent of when I went through the Bell Jar. I FELT LIKE I WAS GOING INSANE. Talking to an inanimate, grinning, macabre skull on the stick that represent the whole truth… HEARING the whole truth from the mouth of this calm skull – it was pretty traumatising. I didn’t even realize Simon was going mad… I thought I was.

Yeah anyway, Simon – the one who first isolates himself from the community, and who first realized many truths (of human nature, of the true identity of the ‘beast’), was killed. THE KILLING SCENE. THE DANCE. Another one of Golding’s beautiful, beautiful creations. The chant of ‘kill the beast! slit it’s throat! and something! i forgot!’ together as a tribe (even Ralph, Piggy, Samneric who embodied the remaining vestiges of civilised humanity) until they became one sole force with the single intent of killing ‘the beast’ which they knew, somewhere, wasn’t the beast but one of them some time ago.

The next day no one would admit they had murdered Simon.

Piggy’s head got smashed (and his brains spilt all over and dyed the tides pink and was washed away), together with the conch shell he was holding. The conch shell, one of the greatest literary symbols I can think of in my limited literary knowledge besides the red hunting hat in Catcher (the catcher – or preserver of innocent childhood – wore the hat. It was held by Holden until he transferred the responsibility/the hat to his sister, who later reconciled Holden’s desire to keep a child’s purity with his adolescence).

The thing is, the conch shell was just a random one picked up by Ralph. But the power he and the other boys invested into this shell made it incredible. They blew on to it to call for assemblies, held on to it until it was bleached from creamy pink to translucent, and constantly looked upon it with ‘revered affection’. At the same time they recognized how silly it was since ‘he was the one who picked it up from the beach’. Jack’s lot later rejects the conch’s authority.

The conch probably represents civilisation in its ability to call for order and meetings where decisions were made. Only those who held the conch were allowed to speak. What is amazing about this symbol is that its power comes from human; it is wholly constructed by men. When it shattered into a million bright pieces it becomes nothing. It was nothing to start with, and therefore HAD to break when the concept of civilisation was rejected by majority in the island. ISN’T THAT JUST. GENIUS.

The last scene. Possibly my favourite scene of all because it’s so hauntingly, vividly beautiful and wouldn’t stop playing in my head like the best nightmare ever. Ralph is still struggling to keep civil. The tribe is hunting him down for murder, they chase and chase and there was no escape, Ralph trips and rolls out into the beach.

And then.

It’s over. He meets civilisation – in fact, an authority. An officer is there and (THIS IS MY FAVOURITE PART OF THE ENTIRE NOVEL) – as if Golding has complete mastery over my imagination – all the images in my mind transform. Throughout the novel I’ve forgotten they were children. They became ageless and half-beast – savages. When Ralph rolls over there was a blur and, as if tumbling out of a bad dream, everything became bright and real, all the characters (GOLDING WRITES SO WELL) became young, young children.

The officer has NO IDEA what had been going on and assume they were just playing war. He asked how many has died (jokingly I think) and in an instant, all the gory and traumatic death, out of (the now very infantile) Ralph’s mouth: ‘only two’, seems childish and almost insignificant. All the children start crying. The aged seven kid before who had been reciting his name and address over and over in the beginning cannot remember how the hell to start his name. CRYING. I picture of a bunch of tiny emaciated kids with paint streaked across their face bawling like babies. The officers think they’re just scared kids.

And here, as sudden and sublime as when everything became bright and clear and un-scary, it starts to dawn on you exactly HOW FRIGHTENING IT IS THAN BEFORE (even the chasing/killing part). Yes, the children were scared, but not for reasons he’d guess. It’s fear for ‘the end of innocence’ and the ‘darkness of men’s heart’. And it is this, bringing the knowledge of humanity’s decay from an island of surreal savagery, into a place of civilisation and reality – by thirteen year olds – that is the most insanely frightening truth of all.

It sounds kind of lame when I try to explain it, but I just had to. I love it. Never had so many lines and scenes in a single novel hit me and stay with me like that. I don’t know why but now I kind of sound like a Britney song. Maybe, tired. Also angry at self because I have wasted a whole lot of time. Past/present tense prolly warped in the whole post but I hit my head against the pool wall today and therefore is justified in speaking crazy. Thank you bye FML.

August 11, 2011
NEBLOF (Good Junk Food)

realized i’ve never listened to this without feeling incredibly sad..

there are many things i want to tell all of you, but like always i’ll take the easy way out and turn to food instead.

so here it is, my Non-Exhaustive Bucket List of Obscure Junk (& Non-Junk If It’s Really Good) Food. Also known as NEBLOF – which i will add to for as long as junk stays a staple in my diet (forever).

1.

CORNTOS.

they are like twisties – but then again NOT AT ALL. twisties are dead corn chips. they’re just passive knurls, lifeless and empty in your mouth. Corntos are ALIVE. they dance in your mouth and refuse to go down without a good crunch. yeah, corntos – twisties but alive. it’s also ‘a healthier choice’ which i happily believed to mean ‘REALLY GOOD FOR HEALTH AND LONGEVITY’ (and then i found out it’s just a load of fats but it’s worth it, really). the good part is that it comes in little 20g packages so you can eat many periodically throughout the day and lose count and forget how scarily much you’ve actually eaten, like me. the downside is that the powder gets all over your fingers so you have to lick it off – depending, you may look either exceptionally sexy or plain gross. oh right, an alternative is if you wash your hands of course. but no one actually does that.

2.

BREADTALK DANISH BARS

ignore the set and just get 5 danish bars. because it is GOOD. have been eyeing it for ages but somehow never got around to getting it. had it for the first time a couple days ago.. and i’ve already had three since. after a few rounds it gets less exciting, but try it at least once! like the good danish pastry it is, it’s made of laminated dough – somewhere between the taste/texture of a strudel and croissant. i’m really partial to the plain custard. if it were to moister and heavier with custard and FRESHLY MADE all the time, it would score a 9. but it’s halfway there, just nice enough to pick up every time you pass a Breadtalk. it’s a briefly sinful (ness told me today it’s deep-fried) and happy-day kind of dessert. for people who require something sweet after every meal. that is, again, me.

3.

STARBUCK’S SOY BANANA MUFFIN

k i don’t even know why this is here because it’s neither junk nor obscure, but I’M DETERMINED TO HAVE THIS TOMORROW so it needs to be here because i’m being obsessive. probably the only soy thing i eat, ever. besides soya souce and Mr Bean’s cheese pancake (which i assume is soy if not i feel veh betrayed). it is warm and just right and probably the healthiest thing i’ve ever tasted. just go eat. then again don’t because they sell out really fast.

4.

WHIRLEY POTATO

for full explanation, see:

https://dopaminedaze.wordpress.com/2010/07/02/whirley-potato-hip-hop-jelly/

5.

MACDONALD’S CINNAMON MELTS

you know all the times i said i’ve quit macdonalds for good? well it’s kind of not very true because i not-so-anymore-secretly am addicted to mccafe’s coffee. mccafe also comes with probably the most genius and most evil thing since the Mega Mac – cinnamon melts. cinnamon melts are always warm and sticky and so sweet you’ll never doubt that Ray Kroc (mcfounder) did have diabetes. but in a good way (the sweetness not the diabetes). i don’t know about you, but sweet + cinnamon + warm + pastry never goes wrong for me kthnx.

6.

KFC’S CHEESY CRUNCH CHICKEN

OKAY FINE LA I’LL ADMIT IT. THIS WAS THE MAIN POINT OF THE POST. THIS.

if you’ve watched the new kfc cheese chicken advertisement that seems to be dominating every channel i’m watching (not complaining though), you’ll get it. i haven’t actually eaten it (though i really, really, really, REALLY want to). want to is an understatement – this cheesy crunch shit haven’t left my mind since i’ve seen the commercial. EVERY. TIME. it’s on TV i stop what i’m doing and just watch. and watch. and die a little inside (the wide sargasso sea way according to gee).

tender juicy chicken marinated in a special blend of cheddar cheese, topped with tasty parmesan cheese sprinkles.

that’s exactly what the advertisement says. something like THIS existing on earth and people dare say there is no God? THIS. I WILL GET VERY VERY SOON. i don’t think i can survive another week without having this, i can’t. CANNOT GO ON ANYMORE NEED TO GET SOME FOOD INTO THIS JUNKYARD SYSTEM GNIGHT BYE EVERYONE.

July 29, 2011