I Don't Know What To Do

You know what the ugly truth is? I actually AM pretty dumb. All these months I've been trying to portray that image of a male himbo without realising that I don't really have to fake the stupidity part of that equation. I'm not observant like Meng, don't have the wit and freaky super-intelligence of Jireh, and certainly don't have that extraordinary grasp of literature like Jeremy. I'm just very average on all counts. I just didn't realise it all these years because I've never been exposed to the cream of the crop. No offense to AC (which is still the bestest school in Singapore) or my dear friends but really, hanging out with all my queer friends has really expanded my horizons. So that's what the cherry on the cake looks like. I suppose that at the end of the day, there is some truth to what my brother said so many years ago. "ACS is for people who want to go to RI but can't." It's not that I could have gone to RI anyway, and I do look back on my AC years with bucketloads of nostalgia, but I think a lot of us AC boys do need to realise that just because we're great bullshitters doesn't guarantee us success in life when you consider the competition we're facing. A big ego is great. But it's even better when you can back it up with something solid. I think some of us can't. And that may well include myself.

Anyway after that moment of clarity and certainty comes nothing but confusion and frustration. I thought that by now I knew what I wanted. But now I'm really not so sure. It's a mixture of fear and nonchalence. Fear of rejection (as usual), and that nonchalence comes in to justify my loneliness. I think. It just seems so frustrating that one day I can be seemingly making progress and the next few days everything just seems to come to a standstill. Oh add to this the fact that I'm not able to focus any effort I can actually muster on any one person. Which is good if we're talking about making friends. But when we're talking about relationships, it's really not stellar. And the best part is, I have no idea how these people feel about me. I really don't. After the whole fiasco that was well, Meng, I am really not in the mood for the frustration and inevitable subsequent humiliation that comes with it. But if I don't take a chance, I will never ever find that happiness I have been so desperately in search of. Actually, I'm not even sure if it will bring me happiness. To all my straight friends, you guys have no idea how much easier you have it. Urgh.

Do I have a personality that turns people off? As in, the whole Carrie Bradshaw/Susan Mayer thing. Needy, insecure, sensitive, like a deer in the headlights. Somewhat whiny. I mean it may be funny and cute at first but doesn't it get irritating after a while? I don't exactly yearn to be victimized, but I think there's this part of me that does ask for it. I do. As much as Fong Peng asked for what she got from so many people over the years, I suppose a portion of me is asking for that victimization. Maybe it has something to do with my fetish for humiliation and masochism.

-heard it all before heard it all before heard it all before-

L.O.L.O.L.O.L.O.V.E

My rubbish taste in music never fails to amuse me. One of the earliest crappy songs that I took a bizzare liking to was MC's Loverboy back in 2001. When I first saw it in London I was thinking "Ooh Mariah Carey. Isn't she a huge star? This is gonna be GOOD." And then after watching that car-wreck (pun intended) of a video I was thinking "WTF was that?" But with time my appalling music taste reigned supreme and I ended up loving the song. Thanks to Da Brat and co, it's just one hilariously rubbish line after the other. "Banana split my Diary Queen, butter finger my tangerines!" Classic. Almost as classic as MC's legendary 2001 appearance on TRL. Last year brought along my obsession with Jessica's AWFUL AWFUL cover of These Boots Are Made For Walking (which Geri Halliwell did an awful cover of in 1999 I think, and Geri used to be my 2nd favourite singer ever). Hey ya'll, wanna come and see something? Uh uh uh uh can't touch, can I get a hand clap, for the way I work ma back. Crazy beat song INDEED. Urgh. Then there was Lala. Don't even get me started on that one. Awful awful song. But I LOVED it. You make me wanna lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala. And to top it all off, the cherry on my cake of shame, came another ASHLEE song in the form of BOYFRIEND. But really, I'm not saying that's a bad song per se. It's quite good really. Just...the whole idea of liking an Ashlee Simpson song. But it's excellent. The verses, the chorus, the bridge, the super addictive WHOA WHOA WHOA HA!-s. Everything about that damn song is pure pop perfection. When they played it in Happy last Saturday we went CRAZY. Excellent.

So enter 2006. A new year. A new beginning. A Rebirth. And what song do I find myself CRAVING? None other than another one by Miss Ashlee. It's more catchy than the bird flu. And the Missy remix is stunning. Put on our Louis Vuittons we look STUNNING, don't blame me if I look good HONEY. Sigh. Another year. Another platter of bad taste in music. If my taste in music was food, it would be expired oysters or something. Does that make sense? Whatever.

So anyway there's nothing much to write about. I was a bit unhappy with what happened yesterday but I suppose after all these years it's nothing new. I will never pull another "Jeff" again. Friendships take so long to build up and you can just destroy them in a second. Of course I suppose most friendships bound for the dumpster don't collaspe just like that. Cracks start developing over time. And when you liberate yourself from that situation you feel really good. Free. Happy. But with time comes regret. This has happened to me twice and I really don't wish for it to ever happen again.

Time to go. Twars.

You'll be happy some day. I know you will.

I Wish I Knew How To Quit You

Caught Brokeback Mountain with Luke and Jireh last night. Yeah I'm still 19(yay!) but we cleverly bought tickets for the Fridae sponsored gala premiere. It was 30 dollars, which is all good since it's in support of AFA. Besdides, we were given loads of freebies(and enough condoms to last for the year).

Inititally I was underwhelmed. Brokeback isn't in-your-face at all really. Very subtle, very tastefully shot, very poignant. Certainly not flashy and Hollywood like Memoirs Of A Geisha (which I loved!) with all it's colour and costumes and bad English. Actually I had a bit of a problem understanding the cowboy dialogue (it's not MY fault that I can't understand Hillbilly-speak!), but that was a product of the setting I suppose. I mean, we can't have Jack sounding like Carrie Bradshaw and Ennis sounding like Bryanboy (who sounds FABULOUS btw!) can we?

I'll attempt a very shallow summary. Jack and Ennis first meet at Brokeback where they are both employed as SHEPARDS. They end up having sex. Jack usually seems like the one to initiate things but Ennis does break down when they part ways after the sheep grazing season is over. Both end up married with kids. Ennis marries this DULL, run-of-the-mill thing and remains poor while Jack marries UP, to the daughter of a rich farm equippment seller, played by Anne Hathaway. Now, I've NEVER been a fan of Anne (she's very nearly in the Resse Witherspoon category for me), but I felt she was brilliant in her role. Certainly was a nice change from the usual princess diaries nonsense. And definitely deserved that best supporting actress nod over BLAND Michelle Williams. Anyway they reunite after 4 years and go "fishing" together thrice a year, which is the best that Ennis can offer. Ennis ends up divorcing blandie but still doesn't want to committ to Jack, who resorts to going to the Mexican border to fulfill his *ahem* urges. Going to Mexico to indulge in vice. How very typical. Anyway in the end Jack gets lynched (and I'm unsure if his wife was the one who plotted it) and the movie ends with Ennis caressing his old shirt and gazing at a picture of Brokeback, where it all began.

That probably didn't to the storyline justice but I can't be bothered. I suppose we in Singapore are a lot better off than the fags living in Wyoming in the 60s, if there were any to begin with. The audience knows from their very first fuck that there this is not going to be a story with a happy ending. They are unable to live together even though there is nothing more each would like. So bring on the wives and the annoying, crying babies, because we're not queer. We just happen to like having sex and enjoy each other's intimate company. It's Ennis who balks at the thought of living together on a ranch. Jack seems like he couldn't care less. And perhaps that's why Jack's the one who ends up getting lynched. Their self-denial ends up hurting not just them but others around them. Ennis' bland wife opens the window to see her howdy-do macho cowboy husband frenching his long lost friend in what is quite the hilarious scene. But she keeps her silence for years and that is the one thing that makes me feel a little sympathy for her.

Regret is a big theme in the film. But I guess they (especially Ennis) know that even if they could turn back time, they wouldn't be able to change anything. Silly cowboys should have moved to da city! Anyway, that's about it for my review. It's certainly not very well typed out. And it's not as impassioned and heartfelt as Meng's, but yeah I just really want to watch the Grammys. LOL at Mary Carry losing all her televised awards. And YAY Kelly.

Since U Been Gone