Hello. I'm a Twenty-something year old stoned kid who loves indie music, heavy bass, novels, probability and statistics, physics, dark elements and beer. I especially can't stand bad copywriting or typography. My biggest and most embarrassing aspiration is to become a politician.
The content you'd find here mostly consists of music and cynical compositions.
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So I’m finally gonna finish my communications degree this April (after only taking up a module or two per semester in order to accommodate the hectic schedule as an events coordinator) and now I’m getting quite worried that my folks might ask me to take up accounting in order to handle all of the company’s accounts completely. I’ve been studying non-stop since forever and I really really don’t want school to be a buzz kill to my TGIF any more.
I don’t want a third bachelor’s.
Just want to be safe and happy.
Safe and happy.
Let that be my constant.
Polly van der Glas is particularly interested in examining the constructed nature of beauty, particularly the kind of beauty and bodies our culture values. When attached to the body, we praise hair and teeth that adhere to the rules. They are key sites where body beauty is defined. Yet when they are shed, their meaning and value undergoes a dramatic transformation. Van der Glas explores this transformation in meaning, and uses it to destabilise ideas about beauty.
Once upon a time;
Once awhile when I meet someone from my teens they would always ask me, whatever happened to my plan to write.
I still feel sort of embarrassed whenever someone asks me that question because once upon a time someone was reading my amateur writing. I would say my prime was 17-19, I stopped writing for awhile because I was just busy and uninspired in life; now that I’m back, I still feel I can’t write the same way.
My writing has become quite erratic. It changes from author or genre I am into at different points of time. I always start something and end up not knowing how to complete it.
Besides, writing in Singapore doesn’t seem to be very appealing. It isn’t writing for the papers, it’s reporting. Columns don’t have as much impact as you would think because our society “complains and then sucks thumb”. I can’t keep up with fickleness in lifestyle magazines - like pretending that I care about a $250 coffee table book, pocket squares on my man or the latest ‘It’ bag. The books by local authors that are best sellers are biographies of political figures or victims of hardship; rarely anything else.
So I gave up on my ambition to write for a living knowing that I will be underpaid, overworked and probably underfucked (and depressed) and am doing it for myself and my thought processes.
I haven’t seen you in almost a decade but some things really never change - how our lives is just constant drama, our humor, the nonsense we do and get into, and the safety we have always felt with each other. It feels like those four years again, on Mondays to Fridays we sat beside each other. Those days entirely made up with experiences many of our peers didn’t have, the nonconformity we had towards society, skipping classes and getting haircuts in toilets, discovering gateway drugs, and secretly feeding our Muslim friends who didn’t want to fast.
And yet, it’s curious that we grew into people so different from who we used to be. We didn’t grow with each other but it felt like we did because we still compliment and relate so well to each other.
I missed you and I thank the heavens that it still feels like my buddy and me.
Stan my man; one of the bunch who reminds me of my youth and our little fantasy to become something greater than we were unprepared to even try.
Most of the time, we don’t have the time or energy to talk all about our drama, the time we have for each other (and the rest of the gang) is always stretched and limited; but in the company of each other, nothing else matters. We don’t really need to offer words of encouragement or empathy.
But I always found comfort in his songs whenever we jammed it out. In a depth I’d never admit, there will always be a sense of comfort and reassurance this song bird - maybe for the simple reason that it brings memories to a time we were once “so indie”, we had a fan base and we just loved each other (not that, that has changed now).
But so… Even now, even over recording, even when all things are different - the memory is still affectionate.