True Love – Elliot Smith

Protected: I Don’t Like Mondays – Tori Amos

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Tear In Your Hand – Tori Amos

All the world just stopped now
So you say you don’t wanna stay together anymore
Let me take a deep breath babe
If you need me
Me and Neil’ll be hangin’ out with the dream king
Neil says hi
By the way I don’t believe you’re leaving
Cause me and Charles Manson like the same ice cream
I think it’s that girl
And I think they’re pieces of me you’ve never seen
Maybe she’s just pieces of me you’ve never seen well
All the world is all I am
The black of the blackest ocean
And the tear in your hand
All the world is danging…
Dangling’…Danglin’ for me darlin’
You don’t know the power that you have
With that tear in your hand
Tear in you hand
Maybe I ain’t used to maybes
Smashing in a cold room
Cutting my hands up every time I touch you
Maybe maybe it’s time to wave goodbye now
Time to wave goodbye now
Caught a ride with the moon
I know I know you well
Better than I
Used to haze all clouded up
My mind in the daze of why it could’ve never been
So you say and I say
You know you’re full of wish
And your “baby baby baby babies”
I tell you they’re pieces of me you’ve never seen
Maybe she’s just pieces of me you’ve never seen
All the world is all I am
The black of the blackest ocean
And the tear in your hand
All the world is dangin’…
Dangling’…Danglin’ for me darlin’
You don’t know the power that you have
With that tear in your hand
Tear in you hand
With that tear in you hand

Tear In Your Hand - Tori Amos

christmas has come and christmas has passed and somehow the novelty of spending the 25th of december in a place with snow has passed; it’s not where you spend it, but whom you spend it with and the festivities do not seem to be as joyous as they would be with family, friends and companions. these are the most important people and the ones that really do matter, and no one should be given a chance to forget that. a dear friend got an awful piece of news on christmas eve but sometimes in life things aren’t fair and life inevitably goes on. you will have a different path though, not that it will be a terrible thing.

me and neill will be hanging with the dream king. somehow this line seems to resonate throughout the song and there is a distinct timbre in her voice, in her lyrics that seem to be congruent with the overall mood. i first heard this when i was dozing in the chairs of the third floor, but i woke up and replayed it again, again, again.

Miniature Disasters – KT Turnstall

i woke up this morning with a myoclonic twitch when i stubbed my big toe against my wall and left a bloody mess on the bed; i touched it, smelt metal and i stumbled into the bathroom barely three hours after i slept.

neither of my legs have been intact the past 5 weeks, that has to be a sign of something.

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Mourning injured the knee as he was starting to plant his feet and go up to block a shot by Hawks guard Mario West, fitting since Mourning ranks 10th on the NBA’s all-time list in shots blocked. But he never laid a hand on West’s shot because his body went in reverse, tumbling to the court when his leg gave way.

”I felt like I slipped on something,” Mourning said. “It happened so quick.”

Forward Udonis Haslem rushed to Mourning’s side.

‘I went to help him up and he said, `It’s over. It’s over,’ ” Haslem recalled.

you wonder if this is fair for one of the most ferocious players there is in the league, (it isn’t) but when you have a name like mourning, maybe it’s apt that these sort of things would happen. alonzo does not deserve this, but perhaps there is a certain sense of predestination, a certain sense of sadness and loss. it’s never easy for a warrior to say “it’s over, it’s over.” because concession involves a capitulation of sorts, but sometimes in life you know when the end of a lifetime arrives, and it’s never an easy thing to accept. there will be a combination of anguish, maudlinity and lastly resignation, and resignation, to a warrior, is one of the worst pills to swallow.

i am not a warrior, it’s too self aggrandizing for me to call myself one, but i can empathise.

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paris was gorgeous, pictures will follow soon, but not now.

What Do I Do With My Heart – The Eagles

there are certain words that i cannot say because try as i might the difficulties surrounding it are almost insurmountable and it is with much effort that i type out these words:

ksenia, ksenia, ksenia.

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i am leaving for paris in 5 hours, so why am i awake?

(because the silence and solitude is compelling, comforting, soothing.)

the school is empty now; yesterday i sent off multitudes of people in a train, and i will watch them return in 21 days time.

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today i had to tell my chef i could not bring the ashes of his uncle back to singapore. somewhere amongst there, i believe, was his heart. what sort of person was he, what kind of live did he lead and whom did he love? these are pertinent questions, but i will not be getting any answers anytime soon.

Long Way Out of Eden – The Eagles

funny that yana nazarova and i talked about ideals today, about faith and realism and that if an ideal were to truly exist, it wouldn’t be one. philosophy never struck me as being present in this school, on a mountain 3000m above the sea level because it almost seems as if vertical upheavals and its metaphysical counterpart were mutually exclusive, but maybe that’s what leaving eden entails, the departure of consistencies and perfection.

it has been snowing the past few days, soft crystals of water float from the sky in a gentle consistent pattern and there is a certain sort of beauty and incandescence in it; today i bought the new eagles album for an exhorbitant price of 39.90 CHFs but it’s worth it i guess, henley having said it was their last album.

last times always make me sad, melancholic, worried.

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p.s. i will never make you cry, i will never make you blue, i will never let you down, i will never be untrue.

trite cliched lines, but it’s worth it, both discs were worth it.

Still a Long Way To Go – James Dean Bradfield

there has to be a certain prescience of sorts, or maybe there are certain faceted truths in everything we say, because surely rachael the ipod cannot be so omniscient, but maybe that is how things are.

it is december, we have memories and imagination, and we have to correlate the both to tell us that yes, there is a future, there is someone to love, that home is only 8 months away now, and in 37 days i will be in london where i will live again, voraciously, hungrily.

maybe i will start writing again.

but now i will have to catch a train.

Just You Wait Henry Higgins – Julie Andrews

it must indeed be a queer choice of music to post, but these days have scarcely been less ordinary; there are too many fluxes these days, and that’s that i suppose, by growing older and wiser.

it rained today, the air was pristine, cleansing, i played basketball yesterday with a hole in my master foot (the one i push off with) and i managed to slut some people who mocked me by the way i defend and my team won in a collective effort.

you always play defence first, especially when your offense doesn’t work and people should start realising that passing the ball and running into empty lanes are always much better than standing around and being a boar.

2 more weeks to paris and debbie, but i wish i can get my gundam 00 episode 9 faster.