tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59357334390527584032024-03-13T09:30:20.953+08:00The Tempestuous Skye...Looking to exhale...Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.comBlogger379125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-71512519066336008662015-12-21T16:10:00.000+08:002015-12-21T16:10:07.862+08:00The Light in the Dark...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UdXfJt1jggo/VnexZTt9KlI/AAAAAAAAAE0/DTvDn5kWfZg/s1600/girl-bedroom-orb-of-light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UdXfJt1jggo/VnexZTt9KlI/AAAAAAAAAE0/DTvDn5kWfZg/s320/girl-bedroom-orb-of-light.jpg" width="318" /></a></div>
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<i>"Unless I have someday, ran my wandering mind away..."</i></div>
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It's quite comforting to know that I'm not alone in my views. I'm obsessed with Fleet Foxes Montezuma at the moment. It's my theme song (if I may be so bold). I cannot believe how each word in that song resonates so clearly to me and where I am. I have it on repeat at the moment. It makes swallowing the day easier.</div>
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The year is coming to an end. 10 days left. I would like to say that I have out grown the feeling of magic whenever the year turns. But alas, I think it is something ingrained in me. Or maybe it's just that I have yet to really grow up. Either way, I'm always hopeful that the new year will bring new things. Am I going to do the list? I don't think so. I think putting things on lists, especially, things that dictate your life, actually hinders the living part of it all. My dad would disagree. But I guess it's all a matter of perspective. If you want your life paths traced out for you, if you do not like surprises, then, yeah, probably a list or a plan will be brilliant.</div>
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But I have come to realize that I am not so good with routines. In fact, I'm terrible at it. To live my life according to a set of steps? It takes a huge toll. My wandering heart, my wandering mind, doesn't bode well with boxes and traced maps. I don't want to know what's behind the corner in front of me. I just want to walk towards it and meet it head on, come what may.</div>
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8 years of routine. 8 years of fatigue. I think I'm in need of some soul awakening. I hate this. I hate feeling this way. I hate being in such a dark place. I'm afraid the longer I'm down here, the further lost I will be. I'm struggling to hold on to the little light that I have. It is within this little orb of light that I still see the beauty in life - the pouring rain, a pretty face, a good story, laughter...</div>
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If there is going to be any wishes made for the new year, is that I hope that I do not lose my light...see you in the new year Skye, don't kill anyone now..</div>
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<b>x</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00218856966496627724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-34747656123539972342015-10-01T11:25:00.000+08:002015-10-01T11:25:21.634+08:00Foggy Weather<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ah_mk3AkNJ4/VgymrQJhccI/AAAAAAAAAEg/bb0XfgL_dms/s1600/a-cat-boat-braves-foggy-stormy-weather-bill-curtsinger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ah_mk3AkNJ4/VgymrQJhccI/AAAAAAAAAEg/bb0XfgL_dms/s320/a-cat-boat-braves-foggy-stormy-weather-bill-curtsinger.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>"You are not the same person you were yesterday..."</i></div>
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The haze outside is a little deceptive. Especially if I am inside enveloped in an artificial cold climate. My brain imagines that it's foggy and cold as well outside and I have this urge to take a long walk in it. I am inclined to the rain and cold. I think there is something mysteriously beautiful about it. It's fall now in most parts of the northern hemisphere. Unfortunately I am living too close to the equator albeit being technically north of it. No yellowing leaves, no fuzzy drizzle, no rogue cold winds from the north to numb the senses.</div>
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From where I sit in my office workstation, I have sort of a half blocked view of the outside sky. Within this small space of blue (thick smokey grey at the moment - effin' haze...), I will myself to some far off place. I look up and out into the vastness, floating on the music playing in my ears and for a few seconds I see and feel fall all around me. It's strange stealing little moments like these during the day...</div>
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I visited my close friends over the weekend. And we ended up in a loud, blaring, stuffy, smokey club. I had not realized that I had grown up. Well in a way. You see, I had never enjoyed places like that before. Honestly. Just that when I was younger, compromise seemed easier. Those that I cared about loved it and thus I decided to go with the flow and tried to have fun. And I did have fun. Because my friends were happy and I can't help but be happy for and with them. But the other day, everything just felt off. Maybe it was because I had some stuff going on in my life. Going with the flow drains so much out of me, and frankly I was-am tired.</div>
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They were not impressed. I could see. I wish I didn't. I wished I was ignorant. But they, being the awesome people they were, left me to my own. A part of me felt bad, but then there was another part of me, that kept thinking, "Why are you wrought feeling what is true?" It should not be this hard to be yourself. What a predicament, to be surrounded by so many happy, giddy people and all you can do was fight off the tears that seemed determined to flow.</div>
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So here is my dilemma. Here is what I meant when I say I am grown up - I don't want to conform anymore. I want to be selfish (this sounded so much more righteous in my head :p) But I am still afraid of losing those that I care about. You'd say, "If they are true, they would still be by your side." I am still scared nonetheless.</div>
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I am so tired. I am so drained. The haze is deceptive. But I want to believe.</div>
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PS : Why is hot coffee gone cold so icky to me when I do actually enjoy iced coffee?</div>
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xo</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00218856966496627724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-29649917742636696672015-04-23T13:29:00.000+08:002015-04-23T13:29:01.432+08:00Do You Realize??<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D3bUIlJcLL8/VTiCMVQQ8iI/AAAAAAAAAD8/txmSAih7Stg/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D3bUIlJcLL8/VTiCMVQQ8iI/AAAAAAAAAD8/txmSAih7Stg/s1600/1.jpg" height="260" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>“This world is a comedy to those that think; a tragedy to those that
feel.”</i></div>
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<i>- Horace Walpole -<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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This morning I woke up wondering if I could fit an easel in my room. I could always prop it close and lay it against the back wall when not in use. But then this will mean I <strike>might</strike> will get paint everywhere. I <strike>might</strike> will get into trouble. It's a good thought though. I should move it out from the KIV box into the go-ahead-go-crazy box.</div>
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Also, I thought about getting more socks. Those pesky sock goblins are at it again. Polka dots maybe? Or bananas? The Flaming Lips has got a whole bunch of points...hmmm...I need coffee...</div>
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<br /></div>
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x</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00218856966496627724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-83264703715632836932015-02-24T10:06:00.001+08:002015-02-24T10:06:47.569+08:00Begrudging Yellow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VdEcKMvTLjY/VOvXrDf_O2I/AAAAAAAAADM/glp1exCfuZg/s1600/Van%2BGogh's%2BRoom_Yellow%2BHouse%2Bin%2BArles.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VdEcKMvTLjY/VOvXrDf_O2I/AAAAAAAAADM/glp1exCfuZg/s1600/Van%2BGogh's%2BRoom_Yellow%2BHouse%2Bin%2BArles.jpeg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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<i>"Do not trouble yourself much to get new things; whether clothes or friends...sell your clothes, keep your thoughts..." - Henry David Thoreau</i></div>
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Have never felt so much like being in a blender/food processor.</div>
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What a thought eh? Well, holding on to the rusty railings around me and watching the floor beneath me crumble slowly into some sort of black void that does not seem that dark.</div>
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Hold on.</div>
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Under the roof,</div>
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In a yellow room,</div>
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Eyes all around and voices scattered.</div>
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Want to disappear.</div>
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Want to dissipate.</div>
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Want to just meld into the furnitures that surround.</div>
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Feel the light heavy on top,</div>
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Is it just me?</div>
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Does the yellow begrudge me?</div>
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The room grows small,</div>
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Constricting slow but with conviction.</div>
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And you are far,</div>
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Too far for my empty,</div>
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Come on near...</div>
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<br /></div>
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x</div>
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00218856966496627724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-8373060354773614572014-12-17T11:15:00.001+08:002014-12-17T11:15:46.157+08:00Missing Socks<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ImNjs2O4RQI/VJD06Ibp4lI/AAAAAAAAAC4/ZtthETzLmBg/s1600/Edgar%2BDegas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ImNjs2O4RQI/VJD06Ibp4lI/AAAAAAAAAC4/ZtthETzLmBg/s1600/Edgar%2BDegas.jpg" height="221" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>"I not know the difference between impressionism and expressionism. To me, both seem one and the </i><i>same. They both take my breath away..."</i></div>
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I thought of you,</div>
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As the day begins,</div>
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And you are not nearly here,</div>
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Can't put into words,</div>
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But the sun shined anyway..</div>
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I can't go back,</div>
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So I put my hat on,</div>
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Quietly I let myself into the day,</div>
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Left home with a cup of coffee,</div>
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Watched as the door closed behind me...</div>
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<br /></div>
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Trodding on the fallen leaves,</div>
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Like stepping on different memories,</div>
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I'm always a little too late,</div>
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What can I say?</div>
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Maybe someday I'll make my own fate...</div>
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I don't know much,</div>
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I don't know where my favorite pair of socks went,</div>
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And you are not nearly here,</div>
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Can't put into words,</div>
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But I think of you...</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>x</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00218856966496627724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-85403859432415232452014-11-27T13:34:00.003+08:002014-11-27T13:34:46.079+08:00Different Each Time<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="400" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/QZweyIKNwX4" width="450"></iframe>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"...irrevocably, utterly, undisputedly broken. Hearts so often disintegrate and forms whole again in time. But it loses something each time. So I am each time a different person. I am not me..."</i></div>
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There is something that is different in these past days. I find it harder to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. I can't even bring myself to sit through completing writing a chapter nor finishing a sketch. Inhale. Exhale. Have I stopped working somehow? Like a broken clockwork contraption. Am I missing a piece of me? Inhale. Exhale. I'm looking ahead, staring at the walls in front. And I see only emptiness. What does all of this mean? I wish there is a booth somewhere that I can go to and just ask for answers. A place where they sell meaning on top of little wishes and bright sunshine in mason jars.</div>
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"Run away." I hear it at the back of my head all the time. A tiny whisper. A soft prayer. And I am on the verge to heed...</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>x</b></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00218856966496627724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-7755142868610485692014-03-27T10:19:00.000+08:002014-03-27T10:19:00.993+08:00Intangible Exoticism<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iZsNFkhU6JQ/UzOI2B1d8iI/AAAAAAAAACY/FojhTZnEVSE/s1600/shsegymsqsco.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iZsNFkhU6JQ/UzOI2B1d8iI/AAAAAAAAACY/FojhTZnEVSE/s1600/shsegymsqsco.png" height="320" width="226" /></a></div>
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<i>"...in those things that we cannot touch with our hands, in which we lose our souls to, these are what makes life an intangible exoticism..."</i></div>
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If I close my eyes, I can picture Paris on a rainy day. You know, the kind of rain that teases rather than drenches? That's what I see whenever I'm listening to Erik Satie. Have I told you that he is one of my favorite pianist? He's not traditionally classical. His works have a hint of jazziness to them. At least that's how I hear them. He emerged somewhere towards the end of the romantic era but his works are some of the most romantic that I've heard. Maybe it just appeals to me. I don't know. I can never really tell with these things. Sometimes there are some things that appeal to your heart and you don't have any answers as to why. And to me, that's okay. I'm curious yes but I'm not insistent on having answers to everything. A rainbow is beautiful just because it is.</div>
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Anyway, I met someone that I had not met in close to a year the other day. It was nice to be remembered. Anyone who says otherwise is just in denial. Oh how I love the little things. In a life full of thorns, I live my days in search of the roses in between. It might not be much, but it is enough.</div>
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Oh how doth my heart beats,</div>
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Oh how do I venture forth?</div>
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Now that I've again fallen,</div>
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For what I once had fallen for</div>
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Even for a brief moment...</div>
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Just a smile,</div>
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A glimpse of starry eyes,</div>
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And that voice,</div>
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The one that strums a symphony,</div>
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Surreal...</div>
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It all felt surreal,</div>
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Like stumbling into a lost dream,</div>
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Like dispersing into a song,</div>
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I always knew,</div>
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That weakness in me,</div>
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So I clench my heart,</div>
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Made sure it did not fly out,</div>
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In search of that brief moment,</div>
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Breathe in and exhale,</div>
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Maybe,</div>
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When my eyes open one of these mornings,</div>
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I find that smile by my side...</div>
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<b>xoxo</b></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00218856966496627724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-66392016542815283832014-02-25T17:00:00.000+08:002014-02-25T17:00:02.446+08:00A Little R&R<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HipDJE-k1gk/Uwxa-tPbuNI/AAAAAAAAACE/mAM9USvwrfQ/s1600/ivdrip.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HipDJE-k1gk/Uwxa-tPbuNI/AAAAAAAAACE/mAM9USvwrfQ/s1600/ivdrip.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<i>"...in times when we not know, is the time when we learn..."</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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It's really funny how we take for granted the most basic of stuff. I've recently gone for a minor surgery and it has left me somewhat challenged - movement wise. I wouldn't say I'm paralysed. Nope. That would be an </div>
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exeggeration :p But it's suffice to say that I am disabled comparatively. </div>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I always thought that staying at home, in bed would be heaven. How wrong was I. Just 2 days into this and I am developing a severe case of cabin fever. I mean seriously. Sitting down in one position for hours on</div>
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is not fun. Yeah I have a 52 inch televsion in front of me but I soon realize that satellite/cable tv are predictable what with them running re-runs 90% of the time! If I'm not sitting in an awkward position, then I</div>
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would be lying on my bed - either just resting or sleeping. Yes, yes. most of you would be thinking - "OMG how awesome is that!!" But no, not for me. Lying down staring at the ceiling is boring. Sleeping too much is boring and I get this annoying pounding headache everytime I wake up from sleeping during odd hours of the day (stupid medications!).</div>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So yeah. I miss being able to just jump out of bed and moving about to go do whatever the hell I want. And I actually miss going to work. Yes, I am not making that up. I know that I need to go through this in order to get better. Doctor's orders - plenty of bed rest! But I just can't help but feel annoyed about it all.</div>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I am praying that I recover really quickly. It's me being a little bit naive and hopeful (official time-to-heal = atleast 1 month!). But there's no harm in a little hope. For now, I am trying my best to enjoy the time given to me to rest and recover. Try Skye!</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>xoxo</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00218856966496627724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-35390392838616518882014-02-07T00:26:00.000+08:002014-02-07T00:26:11.619+08:00Obscura<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-33LVNFWLznM/UvO2Acec5mI/AAAAAAAAAB0/XNxF-9DcZ-8/s1600/Manhattan_Camera+Obscura.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-33LVNFWLznM/UvO2Acec5mI/AAAAAAAAAB0/XNxF-9DcZ-8/s1600/Manhattan_Camera+Obscura.jpg" height="253" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"...sometimes I hide under covers, in the darkness of night, just to wait for the light..."</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Imagine taking a picture with a camera obscura. Imagine
holding a pose for more than 20 minutes. Imagine that. What do you think?
Especially in the world that we live in now where time is everything and that
snapping a picture in seconds is practically second nature.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But I do
wonder. About the camera obscura. That simple pinhole camera that have existed
for a very long time. I wonder what it would be like to be standing in front of
one – posing. But what goes through my mind is not how tiresome it would be.
Instead, I am slightly dazed. Dazed in a good way – somewhere in the lines of
amazed, yes. But why? Because you see, this ancient invention whose name
literally just means ‘darkened room’ forced something that has long since to
have been forgotten by men - men in pursuit of progress. The camera obscura
forced you to live a moment in time. Long enough to get lost in it. Long enough
for it to mean something and by which becomes meaningless as the next moment
crashes into you to take its rightful place in your life. That’s what I think
of about the camera obscura.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And when I
do think of it, though not as often as you might think I do, I look to my
modern camera - this innovative device born from the brilliant obscura, whose
name had also been passed down by it. How many times have I picked it up and clicked away blindly?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So many sentiments we have lost through time. So many treasures, simple yet obscurely profound, like the camera obscura, the pinhole wonder box, the darkened room that lighted many hearts and minds.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
xoxo</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00218856966496627724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-45047277448492921502014-01-15T10:04:00.000+08:002014-01-15T10:04:12.157+08:002014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v1ddPomXoxc/UtXr44gAjRI/AAAAAAAAABk/pdRIW9kT4HY/s1600/vangogh+quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v1ddPomXoxc/UtXr44gAjRI/AAAAAAAAABk/pdRIW9kT4HY/s320/vangogh+quote.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"...once I wanted to be the greatest. No wind nor waterfall can stall me. And then came the rush of the flood, stars of night turned deep to dust..."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>~Cat Power~</i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's January. It's a new year. And the past year, I've felt like I've been hovering in some sort of limbo. I was neither here nor there. Not entirely lost, yet not found neither. I've had to search for my smile regularly. I've discovered parts of myself that I had never known to exist. And there were parts that I hid from the world.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's January. It's a new year. I wish it would be a weird one. A weird wish I know. But time moves in a linear, forward progression and I am no God to stop it. Like a stranger on a train, I travel ahead, a reluctant slave to this momentum. Where am I heading? I cannot tell. But forward I go. I can only hope that on my way, I find the things that can fill my soul with much love and light.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's January. It's a new year...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>xoxo</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00218856966496627724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-60515717618440571842013-10-23T11:51:00.000+08:002013-10-23T11:51:39.158+08:00Self Preservation...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PQe2Sqq9E8A/UmdGzPIAApI/AAAAAAAABtw/hsMFTYxj9hM/s1600/1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PQe2Sqq9E8A/UmdGzPIAApI/AAAAAAAABtw/hsMFTYxj9hM/s1600/1.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>...I wanna close my eyes and never open them again...</i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I should not have left the island. I knew better. I remember telling myself not to. But I didn't listen. I thought it would be different. I believed and now I'm left to fend for myself again. I should have known that there is no</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
other place that welcomes me. The island is where I had been. It is where I should remain. Why did I believe?</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Et je pense à ces instants fragiles,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>ces quelques jours tout près de toi,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>et je reviens seule sur cette île</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>puisque la vie passe et puis s'en va...</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Et je pense à ces instants fragiles,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>ces quelques jours tout près de toi,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>et je reviens seule sur cette île</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>puisque la vie passe... sans toi...</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>-Circus-</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>x</b></div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-10057953085458319522013-09-16T13:03:00.000+08:002013-09-16T13:03:27.568+08:00I Need an Ambulance...<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/Io6z5fO81tE?rel=0" width="360"></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
breathing get's a little harder now...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>xoxo</b></div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-39469744628216856022013-09-10T22:55:00.001+08:002013-09-10T23:04:59.689+08:00Its too late now...<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pLc-GjPq8q0/Ui8y5Pov3EI/AAAAAAAABtY/oJZV-TVCRyk/s640/blogger-image--245456577.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pLc-GjPq8q0/Ui8y5Pov3EI/AAAAAAAABtY/oJZV-TVCRyk/s640/blogger-image--245456577.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Today I punched a wall. It hurt. But I would like to do it again. This usually means one has gone crazy. I punched a wall and I liked it.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b>xoxo</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-81316751908767265232013-08-07T15:57:00.001+08:002013-08-07T15:57:45.314+08:00You'll Be Ok<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WHc2XiJyX7o/UgH82psN5ZI/AAAAAAAABtE/GxC_9XsvPOo/s1600/rain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WHc2XiJyX7o/UgH82psN5ZI/AAAAAAAABtE/GxC_9XsvPOo/s1600/rain.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"Mistakes. They happen. In variable degrees. How do you define a person against their mistakes?"</i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I will never judge what you did. Who am I but just a human like you? And I told you that it is ok. And I told you that my love for you will never waver. You will be ok.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But you're on an island. Surrounded by miles and miles of deep open seas. Not a boat in sight. Sometimes not even the light. You've put yourself there. You've decided to be alone. </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I understand. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But I will not give up.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Not on you. Not ever. Because even if this is a battle that you must face on your own. Even when the rain of arrows sing down for you solely, I will never leave your side. Even if all I can do is to pick you up when you fall so that you can soldier on again. I am the rain in your desert. That light in your dark. I am your friend.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
So pull yourself right out of this. I know you can.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"You can't go back to yesterday, because you were a different person then"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>-Lewis Carroll-</i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
PS: All you need to do is turn around. And I'll be there. I'll always have your back.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>xoxo</b></div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-54261777501376895482013-07-25T14:52:00.003+08:002013-07-25T16:14:03.759+08:00Where Can I Find Cat Tails to Blow?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dg9mVlCrRyo/UfDIeChH2mI/AAAAAAAABsk/95zr8Gr4Wp8/s1600/prairie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dg9mVlCrRyo/UfDIeChH2mI/AAAAAAAABsk/95zr8Gr4Wp8/s320/prairie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>'...and you are the wolf and I am the moon...and in the endless sky we are but one, we are alive...in my dreams, my wolf and I...'</i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The scarcity of greenery in a bustling metropolitan city can be a little bit depressing. I long to lie on endless grass fields. Bathed in the light summer sun and scented with impending summer rain. Pick a cat's tail, blow it into the wind. Watch it disappear into the sky. Hope it lands on someone special.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>xoxo</b></div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-37045149243490944212013-07-24T09:34:00.000+08:002013-07-24T09:34:07.275+08:00Every Damn Morning...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PLI50lcH41U/Ue8uGr3Wh3I/AAAAAAAABsU/3vQ-KQBUg58/s1600/300_1046664.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PLI50lcH41U/Ue8uGr3Wh3I/AAAAAAAABsU/3vQ-KQBUg58/s1600/300_1046664.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"Broken. Shattered. Fading to pieces. Art. Emotion. Two of a kind."</i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Cannot seem to go to bed early. Regretting it every damn morning. I'm stuck in a loophole of my own doing. Am I stupid or what? </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Probably a little stupid and a whole lot stubborn...What gives Skye??</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Where ever you are - I hope you're learning to smile again...</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>x</b></div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-72905967214573487342013-07-22T18:42:00.004+08:002013-07-22T18:42:44.032+08:00The Ghost Inside<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/fNl0Jw9_Z5A?rel=0" width="360"></iframe></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Was it all for show?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To turn into all of them</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Turning a page</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Trust me darlin'</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
I'm carving 'em up through the dust in your town</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Crawling over rubble, just to sound me out</div>
</span></i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Tend to wonder why?</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>-Broken Bells-</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;">The trick is to keep breathing. Seems easy enough. You stop breathing, you </span><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;">die. But there are many types of death...</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You see what I did there?</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">xoxo</span></b></span></div>
</div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-75223494271478588782013-07-22T10:15:00.000+08:002013-07-22T10:15:06.258+08:00Lashes...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oPadDnPFjn4/UeyU6JWg8dI/AAAAAAAABsE/dRS7YVurfWA/s1600/lashes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oPadDnPFjn4/UeyU6JWg8dI/AAAAAAAABsE/dRS7YVurfWA/s320/lashes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"The curve of your lashes,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>How it darkens with each blink,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>How it compliments your eyes,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>How I long to brush it..."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"...It strikes me so odd how long I had lived my life without ever realizing</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>how much is it I like them. It seems so apparently obvious and natural to</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>me now..."</i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's nearing the end of July now. I have no idea where time has been flying off to. It seems like every time I wake up from sleep, a decade has just gone out the window. Melodramatic? Well, it deserves that. Deal with it. I don't want the need to feel anything. But it's always and onslaught of emotions that chases me down the street. Even following me onto the bus I hop on in the morning. Buses are fun.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I can't stand all these things I've held on to. Railings at the edges of skyscraper rooftops seems like a hindrance. Life needs to be lived without the restrictions of handrails. The edge of the end. At least then, being chased by emotions can seem like a norm. Can you see it?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I should go to see God. Maybe staving off of religion is bad for one's spiritual health. I should also then go the gym. I guess the same theory should apply. Maybe?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the meantime I'll bury my nose deep in my books and surround myself with as much music that makes me feel hipster-ish...I'm weird...</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>xoxo</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>PS:</b> Why won't you come online Spotify??? I need my dose of Indie....</div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-12208831069832428642013-06-25T11:01:00.000+08:002013-06-25T11:01:23.522+08:00Lisztomania<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j5ZI_WLFVyY/UckHFI-uljI/AAAAAAAABr0/UF3SdfA2d2A/s1600/lisztomania.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j5ZI_WLFVyY/UckHFI-uljI/AAAAAAAABr0/UF3SdfA2d2A/s320/lisztomania.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>'...it's like, songs, sort of, speaks my mind in ways I can't speak with my own words...what's that all about?'</i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I think I live too much in my head most of the times. I'm afraid it will start to amalgamate into one soon and I would not be able to tell the difference between fantasy and reality. That's when I will need to check myself into rehab. Are those sort of thoughts a little bit psychotic you reckon? I think it is a bit creepy. But I kinduh enjoy it a little...hmmm...</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"Let's go slowly, discouraged,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>We'll burn the pictures instead</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>When it's all over we can barely discuss</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>For one minute only</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Not with the fortunate only</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Thought it could have been something else</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>These days it comes it comes it comes it comes it comes and goes</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Lisztomania</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Think less but see it grow</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Like a ride, like a riot, Oh!</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Not easily offended</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Know how to let it go</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>From a mess to the masses"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>-Pheonix-</i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's Antoni Gaudi's birthday today. Happy Birthday Antoni. You'd be 161 today if it was not because you got knocked down by a tram. Of course, it doesn't necessarily mean you would have lived till today if you weren't road kill =\ Anyhu, I really love your work and I hope that one day soon I'll be able to visit them. To revel in your weird architectural inspirations is one of my top lists of stuff to do.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>xoxo</b></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>PS</b> : I just realized I was conversing with a dead dude...I might need to check into rehab sooner that I thought...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>PPS</b> : But then again, many a sane people have had conversations with the non-living...rehab can wait...</div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-10855199758765461142013-05-29T10:29:00.000+08:002013-05-29T10:29:11.824+08:00I Don't Know...Maybe...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G0sqd-I2ZYw/UaVkNy8LIzI/AAAAAAAABrg/X5jNitqz91w/s1600/3424_10151476311030765_564736815_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G0sqd-I2ZYw/UaVkNy8LIzI/AAAAAAAABrg/X5jNitqz91w/s320/3424_10151476311030765_564736815_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"...falling petals, like falling tears, they exist only for a split second but they stay for a much longer time, don't they?.."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've been listening to a lot of Indie music lately. I've always loved Indie music, but just that lately its been constant. It's good stuff. Doesn't make me wanna pull my hair out hehehe...the drums, the guitar, the soft but</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
gruff/rough angst ridden voice and the overall feel that says "f*** the world!"...I think I'm turning into a hipster =\ you guys reckon it's good thing or bad?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But I think I can see myself as one. Despite the fact that I'm typing away - a mindless corporate drone. I'm such a tragic contradiction *sigh*. Frustrating. But I guess that's part of being a hipster? Or was that part of</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
being an artiste? You know, the strugglin', tortured soul type? Gahhhh!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've just finished my coffee. Staring at my empty paper coffee cup. Lana Del Rey playing in my head..."Let's take Jesus off the dashboard, got enough on his mind..." Just a start to another Wednesday (how do you spell Wednesday?? - looks awfully wrong to me...)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>xoxo</b></div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-42309441283159015092013-05-27T11:04:00.001+08:002013-05-27T11:04:39.366+08:00Come Away With Me...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6qRJXV7v5xc/UaLH65meotI/AAAAAAAABrQ/JhZFHkwTf1g/s1600/illustrationnightskybeautifulstarrynightcartoon-a62170c7a27a9d98bcfd79f7899ef56d_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6qRJXV7v5xc/UaLH65meotI/AAAAAAAABrQ/JhZFHkwTf1g/s320/illustrationnightskybeautifulstarrynightcartoon-a62170c7a27a9d98bcfd79f7899ef56d_h.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Why do I like it so much?</div>
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The idea of floating up into the stars?</div>
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Maybe it really will be as nice up there,</div>
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How the world sees it from down here...</div>
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I have thoughts on falling,</div>
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From way up there where the air is thin,</div>
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But then why not whence one has touched the heavens?</div>
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Maybe I'll find a star to hang on to...</div>
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And when I do,</div>
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Maybe you would want to hold on to me too?</div>
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We can soar the straits of the universe,</div>
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Your hand in mine, mine in yours...</div>
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I can already feel the solar winds,</div>
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I can already feel your heartbeat against mine,</div>
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Does it not feel absolutely right?</div>
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Heavens and our hearts exploding bright...</div>
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<b>xoxo</b></div>
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<b>PS : </b>Yes, I kinduh feel funny inside...</div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-49512181548166237912013-04-19T00:38:00.000+08:002013-04-19T00:38:28.013+08:003 people, 30 wings...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N4q5xUJtevQ/UXAgdY34GvI/AAAAAAAABq0/bt9sjoQD-O0/s1600/IMG-20130418-WA004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N4q5xUJtevQ/UXAgdY34GvI/AAAAAAAABq0/bt9sjoQD-O0/s320/IMG-20130418-WA004.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>...sometimes the things that go bump in the night are a comfort...</i></div>
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Yeap you read it right - 3 people 30 wings. That was what me and my friends had to endure tonight. Ok, so it was not so much an endurement as opposed to an enjoyment hehehe :p I mean c'mon, it's eating chicken wings! It's never gonna be bad. Of course unless you somehow get a bad (I mean, bad!!) plate of wings... *shudders*</div>
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Anyways, I think we did pretty well. We finished 27 out of the 30 wings that was brought to us. At first we didn't think it would be anything. Hooters in Singapore had 5 different flavors of wings and we were very (very!!) gung ho to try all of em. And no, we didnt think of 1 flavor each wing for each of us - we went like, "Ummm, can we have wings for each flavor please?" It had been a long day for all of us, wings seems like a very nice comfort :p It really hit us once they all came. They came in 6 diff plates, 5 in each. The table all of a sudden looked too small and somehow it seemed as if all eyes were on us (gulp!). Weeelll, the awkwardness only lasted like for a couple of seconds. Haha.</div>
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I have to tell you that we did not only have wings. I mean, we had beer (I had like 5 pints or so), umm, mashed potatoes, just to stir things up (yeah, we were such bad-ass! mash potatoes on a Thursday night!) and my one friend decided she wanted to eat the waffles with ice cream! So between the 3 of us, managing to finish 27 chicken wings within a couple of hours is nothing short of an achievement! (cue the applause!).</div>
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It's always easy and nice when you have good company. Yeah yeah, I know most of you are gonna just glance past this thinking that it's nothin'! Plenty of people have eaten much much more. But I think, we think it was really awesome. Yes, we wont be eating much chicken wings for awhile but you know, we'd never trade it for salad and twiggly celery :p</div>
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Now I'm back home - night is still early but what's a girl to do? Work comes beckoning in the morn. If it was the weekend, I'd probably hop into the nearest club to dance the wings off but reality needs me to be</div>
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responsible (blerghhh...). </div>
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I'm so f***in full but I am feelin' good. We had good music, good food and good company. There's never a better way to shake off a shitty work day :) Ok, I'm gonna go try to get some sleep now. Much to do tomorrow!!</div>
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<b>xoxo</b></div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-54179439060134813912013-03-22T22:58:00.000+08:002013-03-22T22:58:12.335+08:00Skin<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh Boy...</div>
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"...You can feel like a part of something if you're part of the scene</div>
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You can make your life look pretty add a little ice and gin,</div>
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Wash off the make-up and prepare the aspirin</div>
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Well you can get out of this party dress but you can't get out of this skin..."</div>
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<b>xoxo</b></div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-24343379563493573812013-03-18T23:41:00.000+08:002013-03-18T23:41:03.146+08:00Skye's Day Out : Art Museum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>...never mind what the others say, it's only important what the wind whispers...</i></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LxZeESeh1Yk/UUcwm4cP-JI/AAAAAAAABp8/n3eVvkIexuI/s1600/Singapore+Art+Museum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LxZeESeh1Yk/UUcwm4cP-JI/AAAAAAAABp8/n3eVvkIexuI/s320/Singapore+Art+Museum.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The other day, I went to the museum...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dnJzhKSN8Go/UUcwkbL9j1I/AAAAAAAABpc/usK5C-FcBgY/s1600/DSCN2223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dnJzhKSN8Go/UUcwkbL9j1I/AAAAAAAABpc/usK5C-FcBgY/s320/DSCN2223.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I saw a painting of Hitler being sort of kind...and I pondered...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AvEctFcF-nw/UUcwm5-xBvI/AAAAAAAABqA/AnDqa-_IN7g/s1600/Singapore+Art+Museum_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AvEctFcF-nw/UUcwm5-xBvI/AAAAAAAABqA/AnDqa-_IN7g/s320/Singapore+Art+Museum_1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I loved the floors, the way words sort of flew into the air, how broken pots stuck together in golden glue and that clothes aren't always typically simple...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7VrkckZYlqA/UUcwlHaRN7I/AAAAAAAABpo/xEekX8HGqt4/s1600/DSCN2236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7VrkckZYlqA/UUcwlHaRN7I/AAAAAAAABpo/xEekX8HGqt4/s320/DSCN2236.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I sat looking at words flip...it was nice...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xz1EzVZElVY/UUcwnqNTS3I/AAAAAAAABqM/v0gvwtwBLvc/s1600/Singapore+Art+Museum_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xz1EzVZElVY/UUcwnqNTS3I/AAAAAAAABqM/v0gvwtwBLvc/s320/Singapore+Art+Museum_2.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was wrinkled tin foil that reminded me of cola and a man made out of ash that told me that anything is possible...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eOOnqjuSIn8/UUcwk8bPElI/AAAAAAAABp0/0xe_hL-e1E4/s1600/DSCN2229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eOOnqjuSIn8/UUcwk8bPElI/AAAAAAAABp0/0xe_hL-e1E4/s320/DSCN2229.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then I stumbled upon a majestic horse. It was made out of film reels. I felt like a movie star...I think it neighed...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cZx01VE7hew/UUcwoV-Tt3I/AAAAAAAABqU/XxSEqgpqXUE/s1600/Singapore+Art+Museum_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cZx01VE7hew/UUcwoV-Tt3I/AAAAAAAABqU/XxSEqgpqXUE/s320/Singapore+Art+Museum_3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I got to go to church before meeting some strange looking strangers....and the writings on the wall told me to dream...'ol Buddha agreed...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iKHp3TE4d4Y/UUcwllgmVFI/AAAAAAAABpw/xCDS68TrNX4/s1600/DSCN2250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iKHp3TE4d4Y/UUcwllgmVFI/AAAAAAAABpw/xCDS68TrNX4/s320/DSCN2250.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I met a lonely sailor adrift on a sea of broken chalk...I sort of envied him (also, I was a little creeped out =\)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tKon-7gce10/UUcz0MquC6I/AAAAAAAABqg/m8x9gXd4smw/s1600/Singapore+Art+Museum_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tKon-7gce10/UUcz0MquC6I/AAAAAAAABqg/m8x9gXd4smw/s320/Singapore+Art+Museum_4.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I discovered that I love how shadows and light play well together in the dark and that the grass is green - no matter where you stand ;)</td></tr>
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</div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5935733439052758403.post-48234385162252290402013-03-12T17:45:00.001+08:002013-03-12T18:08:47.652+08:00Book #1 : Cloud Atlas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vur6VVehm7o/UT7z-uCjQNI/AAAAAAAABpM/iCdUvcjkbdo/s1600/Cloud+Atlas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vur6VVehm7o/UT7z-uCjQNI/AAAAAAAABpM/iCdUvcjkbdo/s320/Cloud+Atlas.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>"A half read book is a half finished love affair..."</i></div>
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<i>-Cloud Atlas ; Letters to Zedelghem-</i></div>
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Cloud Atlas - hmmmm...let's see. My attention was brought to this book when I first saw the trailer for the movie back in late October 2012. You guys know how Hollywood big budgeted movies are like - their trailers are superb and leaves you wanting more. And that's exactly what it did to me. I wanted to watch the movie badly but (yes, there is a but...) since it was an adaptation of a novel, I told myself, "Skye, screw the movie for a bit and lets get lost between the pages of the book 1st!" ...yeah, I did not literally scream that out at myself. But it sort of did sound like it in me head =\</div>
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I don't know if it's just me but, it seemed as if the book was a little bit of a let down. It should just be me, I mean, it's a best seller, which means a lot of people liked it =\ But having an idea of what this book was supposed to be about and then reading it and realizing it's not all that, is not a very nice feeling. Maybe I should not have put so much anticipation on it.</div>
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It wasn't as if it was yucky or anything. The concept I still very much liked. The notion of reincarnations and how our actions now, at this very moment has a rippling effect into the future or the past for that matter. If you ask me, I say, yes that seems logical. It might just be the optimistic romantic in me that strives to believe in such things, but why not? So that portion of the story I loved but the construct...hmmm...maybe I did not concentrate as much as I should have. Maybe there are bits and pieces of the plot that I had missed...it just seemed like there were no beginning nor end and so, no middle at that (yes I'm super making sense, I know!). But maybe that what was David Mitchell was aiming for - to show that in a linear life (or lives), one that seemed like there are no crests nor troughs, there is still significance. And it might not be apparent to those living in the same timeline but in a bigger scale of things, everything and everyone is interconnected. Now see, that is something good to go to sleep thinking about (among other things ahem.. :p)</div>
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So here I am, finished with Cloud Atlas and not too sure how I feel about the book. But I have a choice, we all always do, which is to take the good instead of the bad...no regrets though ;)</div>
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PS : Next up, Kim by Rudyard Kipling - so far the first chapter has proven quite an interesting read :)</div>
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PPS : Gonna go get myself the Cloud Atlas movie (finally) and see if the movie matches the trailer and surpasses the book :D</div>
Skyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13634075971117672256noreply@blogger.com0