dirt road

dirt road
Originally uploaded by insee

in the end, if it's the journey that counts, why take the shortest route?

Love Songs - Anjulie

Love songs and limousines
Wishing wells and make believe
Disco balls and dancing queens
I fall so easy

Rich guys and candlelight
Telling me the things I like
I'm too young and they're too right for me

I fall so easy for cheesy things in life
Sad, sad movies make me cry
Pretty people I admire
I used to hate

I fall so easy for the stupid little lines
Hollywood and sunny skies
Fancy restaurants with three forks and knives
I fall so easy

Until you came my way
Turn my clouds to white from gray
Showered me with pink champagne
I let go so easier

That girl I used to be
Cynical and heartbreak free
Confidence exude in me now


I fall so easy for the stupid little lines
Hollywood and sunny skies
Fancy restaurants with three forks and knives
I fall so easily in love

i fall so easilee...tan tan ta ta nan tan tan

retro effect; going with the flow...

retro effect
Originally uploaded by insee

unplannedness took over the planned weekend. pretty much everything i've wanted to do for the past 3 months squeezed into 3 days. i've watched 2 movies, each 2.5 hours long, after a 4 month movie drought. watched my favourite live band perform. caught up with friends after eons, binged on junk food. enjoyed the wanton noodles from bugis. randomly mad-hatted at attica in a french burret (if i got the spelling right). sikh kebabs in the morning/afternoon. masala teaing soon after. coco-nutting the evening. thai-ing the night and kacanging for dessert. not to mention the mundane laundry and room cleaning that got its deserved attention. in fact, i think my days couldn't have been spent any better. unplanned perfectly, going with the flow.

bin tere kya hain jeena

don't let the stars get in your eyes.

if we could be heroes... for just one day

at times i am engulfed with ideas, chasing a whim to explore when i find myself crammed within the thoughts that should be processed so that i can make it to the end of the day. its like bottling up a feeling and waiting for the right time to release it. somehow though, these feelings are made of whispery thread. like compost, they disintegrate with time. locked up for too long, the ideas disappear. if only the freedom to live like marchesa was bestowed upon us all creating art would be as simple as just living.

each dying idea deserves a blogpost, but in the age of efficiencies and economies, here will lie their mass grave. spare a minute for these unbegotten souls.

any the hoo, this was supposed to be a much deeper post, but my mindset has transferred to lackadaisical. to understand the sentiment, please consult sheldon cooper.

the mental blog

it has been a good so many months since i've visited my own blog. partly because i've been living in a whirlwind that is 'oh so totally' wrapped around me, me and me. this accentuated selfworth seems to originate from the time i have become too busy/tired to sleep, cook and some times eat. i do not condone such a lifestyle, but it has its rewards, even if it does not show up on the teller.

coping is quite difficult, as usual with a shrinking bank balance, hectic lifestyle and new abode. marking territories, boundaries and achievements hardly afford the time to write about the dialogues that run in my wired up mind. which is what brings me to the mental blog.

at the end of each day, i seem to need to 'wrap up' the events and conclude all the happenings on my way home. this monologue runs in my mind, right about the time i start to head back. sort of like a mental blog, with many many interesting and sarcastic jokes worthy of sharing. however the hitch is when i finally reach home, after the routine facebook and email checking, i shut down the computer and lie in bed. the interesting anecdotes of the day die an oblivious death as my eyelids drop and i fall asleep.

how many of you have got stuck in this infinite loop of almost non-existence? it is not something to be unhappy about, but i'm sure it is something of great concern to anthropologists and sociologists alike..

Who is Peter Walsh?

I am Peter Walsh. I am also Clarissa and Sally. I could be Septimus, but I would rather not be.

Mrs. Dalloway was not an easy book to read. At a maximum rate of 10 pages a day, it is finally back on the bookshelf. It took me a while to digest, fluttering through the characters' minds, confused as a reader, this book deserves (or needs) seconds. Apart from admiring the language, the wordiness and the characters (whom i think combine to form an alter ego of me) these are some excerpts that stuck.

"Rigid, the skeleton of habit alone upholds the human frame."

"What does a brain matter,.... when compared with the heart?"

"What is this terror? what is this ecstacy? he thought to himself. What is it that fills me with extraordinary excitement?

It is Clarissa he said.

For there she was."

from Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

time for tea

time for tea
Originally uploaded by lomokev

when it's all pouring down on you. take a break.

a cup of tea usually solves everything. :)

scoop the goop

if you want the scoop on gwyneth, you go to goop. i love chris martin, and for that reason i love gwyneth palthrow. she's seems nice, in a sweet sort of way. but, i think 'goop' is not a cool name for a website. i think i get the logic - (gwyneth + scoop = goop) but somehow it does not digest well in my mind.

anyway, apart from ranting about the name, the site is good. and it has a lot of personal articles that won't necessarily interest all celeb stalkers. it's a lifestyle page of someone who's pretty, rich and famous AND has a rockstar husband. not forgetting that she gave birth to (an) apple and moses.

heres a list of pages i found particularly interesting, heartwarming, or useful

GO- Paris
her father said to her "I wanted you to see Paris for the first time with a man who would always love you, no matter what."

BE- Watch your words

avoid the 'evil tongue'

MAKE- Detox (excellent article)

detox with yummy food and no starvation

i hope these will keep you busy. i found them interesting and subscribed to the newsletter. i hope they (the website people) decide to change the name of the site, or atleast offer a better explanation of its existence.

i am off to compose another junbox entry, so i bid you goodnight!

sleep well my friends,

amelie

itchy fingers and irony

all my best ideas are born when i'm doing the most mundane of tasks. and somehow, it escapes me to write it down. so here i am, trying to recollect what important idea i wanted to share... ooh!

that was fast. anyways, after the conversation yesterday, on logos and business cards, i did some research. and like all research i start off with, i found something irrelevant but interesting. a good ad website with a good ad.. ha :)

http://adsoftheworld.com/media/print/telmex_video_security?size=_original

other things on my mind were, packing, writing, composing the song that hasn't been composed yet, updating the junkbox, and ofcourse blurting out my views on mrs. dalloway and how much i love her.

au revoir mes amis,
amelie

sunflower out of focus

sunflower out of focus
Originally uploaded by insee

yellow, like my fingernails painted.
happy, sick, but not gay.
shifted points of view.
deliberated, calculated.
twisted in the light of day.
anxiety. apprehension.
melted.
gone away.

breath. beats. bounce.
air consumes me.
fly, i must. today.

hawker hero

hawker hero
Originally uploaded by insee

self reflection. recollection.
there are certain pivotal moments in life when you walk directionless, in a seemingly pointless existence. these moments, propagated by long aimless, bus rides, fueled by chance, captured by cameras, and inscripted in little pink books have a detox effect on the mind. like withdrawal symptoms, the flushing out occurs after the worst has passed. and in my diary, this was the moment, the time and the day. thanks to friends, family and this little pink book, the random bus, on that fateful hawker day, i looked up and believed, that yes, i am my own hero.

Time and Eternity

Death
by Emily Dickinson

BECAUSE I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school where children played
At wrestling in a ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then ’t is centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.

mango-watermelon on ice

mango-watermelon on ice
Originally uploaded by insee

here's something natural to help you cope with the weather.

alternatively, you can use the aircon and contribute to global warming, dry up your skin and dehydrate yourself.

also, you may continue to use toilet paper and propagate deforestation, or you could just buy a bidet for a cleaner, more eco-friendly washed bottom.

the choice is yours.

[this post was inspired by shigeru ban's toilet roll. http://www.treehugger.com/files/2009/05/square-toilet-paper-shigeru-ban.php ]

Le toi du moi

Je suis ton pile
Tu es mon face
Toi mon nombril
Et moi ta glace
Tu es l'envie et moi le geste
Toi le citron et moi le zeste
Je suis le thé, tu es la tasse
Toi la guitare et moi la basse

Je suis la pluie et tu es mes gouttes
Tu es le oui et moi le doute
T'es le bouquet je suis les fleurs
Tu es l'aorte et moi le coeur
Toi t'es l'instant moi le bonheur
Tu es le verre je suis le vin
Toi tu es l'herbe et moi le joint
Tu es le vent j'suis la rafale
Toi la raquette et moi la balle
T'es le jouet et moi l'enfant
T'es le vieillard et moi le temps
Je suis l'iris tu es la pupille
Je suis l'épice toi la papille
Toi l'eau qui vient et moi la bouche
Toi l'aube et moi le ciel qui s'couche
T'es le vicaire et moi l'ivresse
T'es le mensonge moi la paresse
T'es le guépard moi la vitesse
Tu es la main moi la caresse
Je suis l'enfer de ta pécheresse
Tu es le Ciel moi la Terre, hum
Je suis l'oreille de ta musique
Je suis le soleil de tes tropiques
Je suis le tabac de ta pipe
T'es le plaisir je suis la foudre
Tu es la gamme et moi la note
Tu es la flamme moi l'allumette
T'es la chaleur j'suis la paresse
T'es la torpeur et moi la sieste
T'es la fraîcheur et moi l'averse
Tu es les fesses je suis la chaise
Tu es bémol et moi j'suis dièse

T'es le Laurel de mon Hardy
T'es le plaisir de mon soupir
T'es la moustache de mon Trotski
T'es tous les éclats de mon rire
Tu es le chant de ma sirène
Tu es le sang et moi la veine
T'es le jamais de mon toujours
T'es mon amour t'es mon amour

Je suis ton pile
Toi mon face
Toi mon nombril
Et moi ta glace
Tu es l'envie et moi le geste
T'es le citron et moi le zeste
Je suis le thé, tu es la tasse
Toi la putain et moi la passe
Tu es la tombée moi l'épitaphe
Et toi le texte, moi le paragraphe
Tu es le lapsus et moi la gaffe
Toi l'élégance et moi la grâce
Tu es l'effet et moi la cause
Toi le divan moi la névrose
Toi l'épine moi la rose
Tu es la tristesse moi le poète
Tu es la Belle et moi la Bête
Tu es le corps et moi la tête
Tu es le corps. Hummm !
T'es le sérieux moi l'insouciance
Toi le flic moi la balance
Toi le gibier moi la potence
Toi l'ennui et moi la transe
Toi le très peu moi le beaucoup
Moi le sage et toi le fou
Tu es l'éclair et moi la poudre
Toi la paille et moi la poutre
Tu es le surmoi de mon ça
C'est toi qu'arrives des mois si ?
Tu es la mère et moi le doute
Tu es le néant et moi le tout
Tu es le chant de ma sirène
Toi tu es le sang et moi la veine
T'es le jamais de mon toujours
T'es mon amour t'es mon amour

kangna

come... and burn your heart away

come... and burn your heart away
Originally uploaded by insee

reflecting on the past 7 days, i've realised that life does change. mine has been fluctuating like my bank balance. riding on a full tank of happiness and high on sun, sea and smiles.

i've discovered that there is such a thing as 'lightning wax' by diana king. developed my first lomo roll. i've tasted presshafruit juice from a triangular bottle. i've found the perfect foundation, crème and powder. finally got the perfect blush tint. i'm progressing en française. i've been on 2 budget airlines and i've been driven 1.5 hours on a motorbike/scooter to the airport. seen some beautiful seascapes. drunk chilled coconut on a burning hot day. not to mention i've had yummy food. sour sour mangoes with chilli. and i've been somewhere where the sleaze meter is so high that it made me feel safe.

all that's left to do now? go up in smoke.

au revoir,
amelie

we are going on a... summer holiday!