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Saturday, October 11, 2008
My short skirt.
It is not an invitation a provocation an indication that I want it or give it or that I hook. My short skirt is not begging for it it does not want you to rip it off me or pull it down. My short skirt is not a legal reason for raping me although it has been before it will not hold up in the new court. My short skirt, believe it or not has nothing to do with you. My short skirt is about discovering the power of my lower calves about cool autumn air traveling up my inner thighs about allowing everything I see or pass or feel to live inside. My short skirt is not proof that I am stupid or undecided or a malleable little girl. My short skirt is my defiance I will not let you make me afraid My short skirt is not showing off this is who I am before you made me cover it or tone it down. Get used to it. My short skirt is happiness I can feel myself on the ground. I am here. I am hot. My short skirt is a liberation flag in the women's army I declare these streets, any streets my vagina's country. My short skirt is turquoise water with swimming colored fish a summer festival in the starry dark a bird calling a train arriving in a foreign town my short skirt is a wild spin a full breath a tango dip my short skirt is initiation appreciation excitation. But mainly my short skirt and everything under it is Mine. Mine. Mine. - Eve Ensler Rape theme in Vagina Monologue Labels: theater
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Is it there to lose?
I watched vagina monologue today, then had an early supper at Marina, before going off to Sentosa to watch Jazz by the beach. The first two were the highlight of my day. Anyway. I've got the thought today, who are you claiming friends, when no one belongs to anyone? I guess I'm still bugged. But I have made my stance. Especially after today. Things have changed and I have no keys or superpower to retain the moment where it was good. It is the expectations. I expected things to stay the same and it is the wrong decision from the root. Because expectations stay the same, but people and circumstances change. And I couldn't have learned a better lesson. You know what is ridiculous? I changed, but I keep expecting the same thing. I treat people differently, my time has changed, circumstances changed, hence, how do I expect people to treat me the same way? Nonsense. A few days ago, I was catching up with one of my best buddies. We were talking and then I realized, I have grown out of our conversation. The same conversation could've happened a year ago and I would've been following it. But right now, my only question was, Do you read the paper? There are people who will be there for you in a time where you need them, but the sentiment is there. Friends are friends forever, you can never lose them because they are not yours to claim in the first place. When you change, they change. Maybe to a different direction but the friendship is there and no one is asking anyone, or have the right to ask, to change to the same direction. However, when the intimacy was only based on superficial circumstances and not genuine empathy, things will certainly go wrong. I have learned that friendship, just like any other relationship, requires sacrifices. Like calling them up to hook up between hectic schedule or travel all the way to Sentosa to catch up within the last hour performance. It doesn't matter where, or when. It's the little stuff that show people matters, like, replying their SMS-es or e-mails. Small things that show you really, trully, find their companionship matters. Here I am wondering why on earth do I care. I have a chance to kick this back but I care. Because people who I have hurt, or have hurt me, intentionally or unintentionally, recently, are my friends. They were there when the time was the hardest. People change, I see things differently now, but the friendship, the companionship, the past is there. But when the people stay the same, or go to a different direction, coversations will only dwell in our great past. The friendship will always be there, but there is no use in covering up empty seats. Now we are just different people going to different paths and talking different things. And now, more than ever, I should realize that life doesn't wait. NB: NO ONE in specific. General thoughts triggered by failed attempt to reply smses and my unreplied attempt. PSS: Some people are cursing about the dive of Australian Dollar. I'm cursing US Dollar. And hey, if you convert Australian Dollar and Singapore Dollar to Rupiah, Australian Dollar is cheaper than Singapore dollar. Buy your OZ dollar now if your future is there and invest wisely. A friend just cursed and swore (he's in the investment banking, hence he suffered deals - I mean the bonus - hehe...), but the predictions for better multi polar economic systems are floating around. You have to suffer the pain to gain, yes? PSSS: Vagina Monologue wasn't too bad. It was amusing and entertaining. But I have seen some better scenes before. Plus the characters are too altered to fit into some archetypes. But I enjoyed it on the whole. Labels: Daily life, theater
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Sunday, June 8, 2008
Architechture of silence
It's a bit dated, but I had a complimentary ticket for one of the shows of Singapore Arts Festival - Architecture of Silence at the Esplanade Theater. A collaboration of Slovene National Theatres Opera and Ballet with Maribor, Ljubljana and Singapore Festival Orchestra. It was the Asian Premiere and geewhiz was it the VIP box on its premiere date. Happy. Ironic was the word. As the beauty tuned from its silent dance which impersonates the silence of the sea, yet the orchestra was pomp. I think that scene where pebbles dropping to the aquarium could be executed better because for the period it's been done, almost for a whole scene, I kept wondering its meaning. Time, rebellion, out of proportion, wilderness, nature, silence, baptism, rebirth. Keywords... It was an admirable performance, though. The footwork was very neat. Labels: ballet, reviews, theater
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My short skirt.
It is not an invitation a provocation an indication that I want it or give it or that I hook. My short skirt is not begging for it it does not want you to rip it off me or pull it down. My short skirt is not a legal reason for raping me although it has been before it will not hold up in the new court. My short skirt, believe it or not has nothing to do with you. My short skirt is about discovering the power of my lower calves about cool autumn air traveling up my inner thighs about allowing everything I see or pass or feel to live inside. My short skirt is not proof that I am stupid or undecided or a malleable little girl. My short skirt is my defiance I will not let you make me afraid My short skirt is not showing off this is who I am before you made me cover it or tone it down. Get used to it. My short skirt is happiness I can feel myself on the ground. I am here. I am hot. My short skirt is a liberation flag in the women's army I declare these streets, any streets my vagina's country. My short skirt is turquoise water with swimming colored fish a summer festival in the starry dark a bird calling a train arriving in a foreign town my short skirt is a wild spin a full breath a tango dip my short skirt is initiation appreciation excitation. But mainly my short skirt and everything under it is Mine. Mine. Mine. - Eve Ensler Rape theme in Vagina Monologue Labels: theater
...
Is it there to lose?
I watched vagina monologue today, then had an early supper at Marina, before going off to Sentosa to watch Jazz by the beach. The first two were the highlight of my day. Anyway. I've got the thought today, who are you claiming friends, when no one belongs to anyone? I guess I'm still bugged. But I have made my stance. Especially after today. Things have changed and I have no keys or superpower to retain the moment where it was good. It is the expectations. I expected things to stay the same and it is the wrong decision from the root. Because expectations stay the same, but people and circumstances change. And I couldn't have learned a better lesson. You know what is ridiculous? I changed, but I keep expecting the same thing. I treat people differently, my time has changed, circumstances changed, hence, how do I expect people to treat me the same way? Nonsense. A few days ago, I was catching up with one of my best buddies. We were talking and then I realized, I have grown out of our conversation. The same conversation could've happened a year ago and I would've been following it. But right now, my only question was, Do you read the paper? There are people who will be there for you in a time where you need them, but the sentiment is there. Friends are friends forever, you can never lose them because they are not yours to claim in the first place. When you change, they change. Maybe to a different direction but the friendship is there and no one is asking anyone, or have the right to ask, to change to the same direction. However, when the intimacy was only based on superficial circumstances and not genuine empathy, things will certainly go wrong. I have learned that friendship, just like any other relationship, requires sacrifices. Like calling them up to hook up between hectic schedule or travel all the way to Sentosa to catch up within the last hour performance. It doesn't matter where, or when. It's the little stuff that show people matters, like, replying their SMS-es or e-mails. Small things that show you really, trully, find their companionship matters. Here I am wondering why on earth do I care. I have a chance to kick this back but I care. Because people who I have hurt, or have hurt me, intentionally or unintentionally, recently, are my friends. They were there when the time was the hardest. People change, I see things differently now, but the friendship, the companionship, the past is there. But when the people stay the same, or go to a different direction, coversations will only dwell in our great past. The friendship will always be there, but there is no use in covering up empty seats. Now we are just different people going to different paths and talking different things. And now, more than ever, I should realize that life doesn't wait. NB: NO ONE in specific. General thoughts triggered by failed attempt to reply smses and my unreplied attempt. PSS: Some people are cursing about the dive of Australian Dollar. I'm cursing US Dollar. And hey, if you convert Australian Dollar and Singapore Dollar to Rupiah, Australian Dollar is cheaper than Singapore dollar. Buy your OZ dollar now if your future is there and invest wisely. A friend just cursed and swore (he's in the investment banking, hence he suffered deals - I mean the bonus - hehe...), but the predictions for better multi polar economic systems are floating around. You have to suffer the pain to gain, yes? PSSS: Vagina Monologue wasn't too bad. It was amusing and entertaining. But I have seen some better scenes before. Plus the characters are too altered to fit into some archetypes. But I enjoyed it on the whole. Labels: Daily life, theater
...
Architechture of silence
It's a bit dated, but I had a complimentary ticket for one of the shows of Singapore Arts Festival - Architecture of Silence at the Esplanade Theater. A collaboration of Slovene National Theatres Opera and Ballet with Maribor, Ljubljana and Singapore Festival Orchestra. It was the Asian Premiere and geewhiz was it the VIP box on its premiere date. Happy. Ironic was the word. As the beauty tuned from its silent dance which impersonates the silence of the sea, yet the orchestra was pomp. I think that scene where pebbles dropping to the aquarium could be executed better because for the period it's been done, almost for a whole scene, I kept wondering its meaning. Time, rebellion, out of proportion, wilderness, nature, silence, baptism, rebirth. Keywords... It was an admirable performance, though. The footwork was very neat. Labels: ballet, reviews, theater
...
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Curious 20-something
Full time student. Life time writer. Part time musician.
I once wanted to be an archeologist to dig the glory of Pharaohs of Egypt. But my mother told me what I can get from that is dirt.
Then I wanted to be an astronaut, but of course, NASA is still sorting out that case.
I wanted to be a goodwill ambassador, only to realize my country doesn't really like my skin.
I wanted to be a hippy and live to paint, but Andy Warhol destroyed my dreams.
I could become a dancer, but dancing for living is not part of my culture.
I'm a misplaced existence, trying to find justice.
I want to be so many things in so many places,
So good God help me.
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