Tuesday, July 19, 2005 // 11:37 PM

some day. some day i will have an apartment, not a house, which is big enough to be lost in, which is big enough to accumulate rooms of paraphanelia that someone will some day have to plow through, discard, after you are dead. i want an apartment that is high high up over everything else, either that or not very high at all. either show me the rest of the world from the second story angle, or dont show me the world at all; let me look at the sky, and feel more alone than i already do. but i dont already do, at least not right now. give me a balcony, i think i could live on a balcony. i think i used to, when we still lived in serangoon gardens. i want the sun light to spill in without my asking, i want the heat and hum of glorious and mundane afternoons.

i have a mental image, it is in michelle's apartment, specifically, her room mate sitting on the balcony, looking out onto the street. tiny concrete and wire balcony, ashtray and cigarettes strewn around. his silent and brooding friendliness and the cold australian morning.

i have a lot that i think i should think about, properly. come to some conclusion. i dont know, im sad to be growing out of frivolity, wouldnt you be? to want to never stop being a child, to want to never stop being allowed to be a child. when the impulse hits. yesterday i played and lost two games of uno, one game of chinese chess, countless games of connect four. i would like to stay here eating colourful ice cream playing games and saying nothing of huge consequence (though it is not as if anything, at all, is of huge consequence). but no instead i have my hssrp research paper to write, i have a million people's thoughts to consolidate, academise, reduce to statistics. envy me and my two thousand dollars. i cant stay here forever but i'll try, i'll try at least for a time. before things go crazy and i run far away to my other self, to afternoons in the sun, to evenings wiled away in cafes, talking, just talking, writing, reading. smiling easy across the table at someone else.

i had opinions that didnt matter
i had a brain that felt like pancake batter

and huiwen said to me, but you're both sharp and blunt. stay away. so. so now i like the word blunt, the way it sounds so much like the the wrong end of a knife; unrelenting, inefficient. hurting the stubborn wielder more than it does the intended victim.

(the same way i cant do anything right.)

i slept five hours in the afternoon, i think i should be making up for lost time. it is not really that i am so madly busy it is that there is so much for me to do, right now. some things just never get done, because they are swept under the carpet and forgotten. cleaning my room for example. i dont like the mess any more than you do, da. it's just my unwillingness to Get Down And Do It, the million other things i need to do on my hardworking days (which's rarity is a problem in itself), my subsequently being so completely inured to the complete mess. mess. i think i am always going to be a mess, but maybe that's another one of those. those self fulfilling prophecy things.

i would like someone to talk to me truly today. everyday. remind me how im supposed to be doing my work, right now. doing it, mindlessly, without considering its pointlessness.

i think i am trapped in my own head, but this is fine; this is fine because it is just another Today, just another permutation. i have brain dead days that make me feel extremely good about myself, when the lid slides of my box of a head, and i am unleashed cavorting into the greedy new breaths of air. im looking forward to that but i know it is made better by the time spent in the box, absorbing myself in things other than my mindless hedonism.