secrets..

I have no idea what your secrets are; blimey, I have no idea of half of my own secrets. Secrets are meant to be secret, sometimes, they are secrets even to yourself.

Skeletons in the closet, letting the cat out of the bag, what have you for all these things that we have and are part of us but we do not share. We have a choice to share or not to share, and the issue of choice is not my concern, but what happens after we choose to share.

If a secret is meant to be a secret, there would be certain reasons; some more common than others, but in general, reasons such as ‘saving face’ or ‘being embarrassed’ would be the norm rather than the exception.

But if a secret is a secret, you live knowing it is a secret, instead of a fact of life, it becomes a secret fact of life.

Maybe it is better if we all forgot our own secrets. To forget ourselves in our secrets.

wedding bells, gothic rock.

La da dee da. This can go on. Time to review what marriage is, what it means to individuals, society, and institution and large. I have no references or facts, so this is not an academic argument of course. But I would tend to believe that marriage was mainly a result of structural necessity. The need to be recognised by the state. So before that, people still lived together, just not under a particular label. Nevermind. At least when such a label existed, why did people get married? By choice? Or because it had become the unwritten law that MAN owns WOMAN and we need this to be recognised by the state so that when MAN does anything to WOMAN it is okay because WOMAN is the PROPERTY of MAN.

At the risk of being labelled a feminist, I shall continue typing.

I hate labels. Any LABELS. People just make stupid decisions and unfortunately men started making stupid decisions first hence they get attacked more by me. Being slightly more pro-females in this aspect does not make me a feminist. It all depends on situations and ….

The role of a woman, then – is to be property of FATHER. property of BROTHER. and role of FATHER and BROTHER is to get woman married to HUSBAND. HUSBAND must be someone of equal status as woman’s family. Marriage in this sense is a business transaction. I give you my daughter, so that I will look good in the community because you are a doctor, or you are the king’s third son. It does not matter if you have a thousand wives. You are MAN.

I am going to give you warning that I am steering away from this topic to pursue yet another grouse; do not let your eyebrows go up in confusion.

Man can have affair, wife must accept. Wife must accept Man sleeping w/ other women. Woman cannot have affair, wife must accept this. Wife cannot be accepted by Man after she has slept w/ another Man. Husband will not accept tainted Wife. Wife Must accept Tainted Man. Reasons such as: If you were such a good wife, he would not have gone to another woman. Now that he is back to you, please make sure you take good care of him so that he is satisified by you.

to marriage is to divorce.

For those who were wondering, this entry got ‘inspired’ (for lack of better word) by Courtney Cox’s upcoming divorce. I should use a better choice of words, like inevitable or unwishful divorce. But I have decided to stick to using ‘upcoming’.

So 11 years seems to be a good number of years to test, try, and fail a marriage.

Just for background info: i’ve always had certain thoughts on this topic, i just don’t sit down to put it into words as often as i would want to. Turns out that I’ve always thought Courtney Cox is kinda cool – i mean, hey! her muscles were awesome; always used to notice it when I watch(ed) F.R.I.E.N.D.S. So, her divorce just caught my attention among all the million and zillion divorces that occur as frequently as dead skin cells fall off from our skin and become part of the dust that we see on the floor.

But back to my general point and not to the specific event. I realise I haven’t made a point yet. Let me start.

“And now, I pronounce you, man-and-wife.”

“Will you love her as long as you live?”

“Will you take care of her, in sickness and in … ” (i forgot the rest).

Sometimes I wonder, we could have vows that go:

“Until you decide to divorce, will you take good care to make sure you know what items you pay for so that in the unevitable occurance of seperation, it can be a peaceful and quick process?”

“Do you promise to take care of yourself in this marriage, and do consider taking care of him/her too?”

I respect those who respect themselves, their spouses and their families in a marriage. But I still am grappling with how and why to respect the institutionalisation of “marriage”. My reason being that there are more cons than pros.

I’m not a horrible person; I just become more of a cynic every day.

if you’ve . . .

if you’ve always owned a slave, it would be so hard to live with the abolishment of slavery.

if you’ve always had clean water coming out of your tap, it would be so hard to live with only well-water; that too, irregularly.

if you’ve always failed, it would be so hard to even imagine what it would be like to get a decent grade.

if you’ve always lived life forgetting that one day you’ll die, it would be so hard to finally come to terms with it.

search

sometimes i have all these doubts.
in fact, i often do.
sometimes, i think they come often.
often, i think they come seldom.
the moments that you feel the lowest,
are truely, really, your own.

time and time again,
these doubts cause my mind to implode, to explode.
time after time,
today, tomorrow, now, yesterday.

for what, for whom, why?
perfection is so intricate, so fragile, so futile.
what is true, who is not?

dependence

well, one of those things that i think about, but have no real flow of thought actually.

in essence, life = dependence.

i believe that it would be hard to argue otherwise.

at different stages in our lives, we are dependent on different people, objects, ideologies, values. we depend so much on the concept of independence that we are dependent on it. we depend so much on the concept of being free and having a unique liberal identity, that in the battle to be as secular and individualised as possible, the war is lost in the beginning  because the end product would be a group of similarly blinded individuals. “we are all different” but “we are all same”. we are all dependents.

in a less abstract perspective, the human race is tied down very much by technology. people are defined by the brand of their mobiles, the speed of their computers, the definition of their television sets. the human race is also tied down by this mad conflict of what is, what is not, and the relevance of any sort of ‘unexplainable greater than thou’ religions, as well as by attempts to break away from such conflicts and dependence to go into a higher level, one could describe possible as a state of enlightenment. and then we have academics who try to rationalise and structure the massive concept of life, death, and the in betweens.

i could be wrong, but it may be the dependence of the concept of meaning in this chaos and struggle that we face the moment we have some sort of awareness of being a human being (as opposed to being a blob created by the union of a sperm and egg) that headstarts the consciously subconscious notion of dependence.

listen, don’t just hear.

Many times we make the assumption that we know best. that for some reason we are so well aware of everything that surrounds us, and in some sort of logic, hence permissing us to give ourselves the authority of knowing something better than someone who, we presume, knows nothing at all.

Now, it may very well be the case that one may be ignorant of something that we perceive to be a bit less ignorant of. That is fine, but then, what is not fine? No matter how ridiculous, or silly, or absolutely absurd someone’s suggestion or comment is, what does it really mean when we say “yes yes, i know what you’re going to say, i get it? Does it mean that we really can read into the other person’s mind? Or does it mean that we are so convinced of our own presumptions about the conversation, that we have already concluded without even listening? or in this case, even hearing?

Nevermind whether you disagree with someone, nevermind whether you think you are the greatest person in the world. But everybody has a reason for saying what they say, and for what they think, and it never hurts to try and see where they’re coming from. After that, sit down, think of the what ifs and what if nots. Nobody said you had to agree, the point is to listen and to appreciate before disagreeing, agreeing, or to assume neutrality.

After all, how far can your ego bring you, and no matter how far, you may end up seeing that you’ve come a long way (and that may make you happy) but be careful, you may have merely ended up taking a really long walk to come back to where you began from. Or otherwise, concentric circles.

familia,family.

so randomly, there was a conversation about family (in general) and the person i was talking to was telling me how she always gets the “you don’t understand la, you don’t understand my family”. “my family different, lot of problems, no good”.

No good.

What is no good?

Anyhow, as an afterthought, so where is there a rule that two married people and kids constitute a family? some families are very complicated, messy, but that doesn’t make it a bad or a broken family. Being married and staying together with kids could still be more negative than positive, just that it outwardly impresses that it is a [thumbs up] family. merely by fitting into a particular design and structure does not define a good family.

so what does? I’m  not sure. But I sure know what doesn’t.

I truely believe that just because a family is ‘different’ from expectations and hopes, that does not make it less positive than a “complete, intact” family (whatever all these terms mean, and however you define it). And going back to “no good” – there is no rule that the more complicated a family structure is, the less “good” it is. And vice-versa. Its rubbish to assume that the seemingly less complicated families are all doing well and happy and are perfect. There are tons of people who have a married life and don’t cheat on their spouses and have bastard kids but still have a terrible married life. And their children are still unhappy.

As much as reality bites, we can’t choose most of our family, we can’t pretend we never had them, and we can’t deny that some people are just ‘luckier’ than others. But nobody really said life was fair. The one and only truth about life, besides the fact that its not forever, is that it isn’t a fair and happy process. However, there are things that we can choose.

Hmm. I don’t think this is the right time to quote “if you can’t beat them, join them”.

But despite my thoughts, which not necessarily are linked or flow; at least at this point in time, I will still be at a loss of words for someone who says:

“my family different, lot of problems, no good“.

narrative 1

it was about dusk. were we a group of friends? i’m not sure. what a terrible term it actually is, what with such a vast number of people in the universe that come under one category or none at all. there were many trees. you could see the sky peeking through the leaves of the very tall trees. there was moonlight, there were artificial lights, or we were all owls with eyesight to suit the darkness. i’m not sure.

and then, we were all sitting on the sand. there were attempts to make casual conversation. and then a question comes up. and another question comes up. and the question of why comes up. and it comes up again, and again. and then i wonder, why even minding one’s own business, is a cause of concern for the nosy man. i share this view with the company i am with, and, unsurprisingly, am greeted with “why” once again, and a sense of great disapproval.

i walk down the shores, kicking the sand, and walk towards the water. i stand there, with the water at my ankles… at my knees… at mid-thighs… i hear shouts. i hear my name. but it might not be my name. their call rhymes so much with what is commonly used to address me, that one cannot tell immediately who, or what is being addressed at that sound.

i decide to sit down, cross legged, in the water. the same water that is already rising to my waist if i am on my feet. and then i cannot hear anything except the sound that you usually hear when you are under water. it is a refreshing change. my hair is trying to run away from me, only held back by the roots in my scalp. i feel my body float, float, away. wait. i realise that i am looking at my body from a far. i am both here, and there. they are both me. they are us. i am that.

my eyes open – i do not recall them being closed – and i can see the figures in the distance, appearing to look for something – perhaps they are looking for me. i do not know how they do not spot me, as i get up, and walk towards the trees. the trees which hide most of the beautiful sky. the dark, cold, beautiful sky.

and then i see you. i have never liked you. and your bag. you hit me today, with your bag. your bag hit me. does it matter to me if you had done it on purpose or not? i believe it does not. to me, what i believe is what is important to me. there is no right, and there is no wrong. it is all about faith, and belief, in whatever, and whoever. choices.

i take that bag, and i fulfil the promise i made the minute you had hit me with it. i remember the flash of anger and the instant urge to reach out and claw out your throat. alas, the restrictions of a human hand.

and i realise that blood does come in different colors. after all, blood is thicker than water. i stare and the pale, watery substance, that looks just like plain water … definitely not blue blood, but fake watercolour red. i laugh. even your blood tells the story of your fake-dom. you cannot hide it, for that is what you are. what i have seen you. what everyone else has mistaken as gossip, laughter, and mockery.

the deed is done. the rest come back. they are frantic. they are worried. worried about the guilt of a dead one, perhaps. i am not sure. they have found me. they don’t notice the bag. they don’t notice a missing person. they look at me and shout, and scream. i remind them about their reason for worrying, their fear masqueraded as genuine concern. the tension is high. but yet, nobody notices the bag. nobody notices the cold and the lifeless. nobody.

it is just us, the beautiful sky, the cold water. i am shivering. and i wonder what the color of my blood is. it is wonderful to know that i was remembered over somebody else. it is wonderful to get revenge. it is wonderful to do what you want to with nobody noticing. it is even more wonderful if nobody says anything about what they notice. there are no smiles anymore.

were we a group of friends? i’m not sure.

i wonder.

i wonder.

i wonder what it is like to stab a knife through someone, and looking at the blood drip from my knife as i wrench it out, to watch calmly as [they] fall down, with a silent scream plastered on [their] face, eyes reflecting the horror within.. us.

i wonder.

What and When does Who have a right over Whom?
I always have no answer, and my silence is mutiny.

My answers contradict to …. what?
Guilt?
Perhaps it is not as much as a “lie” as I seem to portray it.
Why the doubt? I just believe in different things at different times; however contradictory they may be.

Selfishly selfless; selflessly selfish.
Love yourself first; love others first.
You are a not an individual first, you are a child; You are an individual, a child is but a phase.

Since the time I remember, I have always sat in class wondering to myself – all these people who think they know what they are saying, how foolish they are. They think they are right because the wrong questions are being asked. But let them be happy in their ignorance of knowingness.

Maybe that explains my total inability to voice out before an audience, even if it is a silly presentation on how children act in a playground. Because I have grown with so much dislike.

It has passed a month since i decided to say goodbye tomorrow – but time was never on my side, and tommorow will ultimately never come because even if it did, the words would just crumble in my mouth and get swallowed by the pride that defines me.

Brotherhood, friendship. If only. Ignorance. For how long will the White Man from the West do this? Ignorance is what we all grow up wanting, in one way or another.

Sometimes I wish there wasn’t so much unintentional holding back. You, me, her, him, us, they – we are one, you and I.

How can one not justify what is all around? How CAN one justify it.
There are too many questions. And not enough understanding. Or not enough strength, actually.

Knowing what you don’t know – is knowing everything.

 

 

Nobody can truely run away from who they really are. Even if they think they can. Because they don’t know enough to know, that what they think they can, they can’t. The globe has a beginning, and has an end, and the starting line is the finishing point.

Learned ignorance.
Learn ignorance.
Ignorance is that which cannot be learnt.

One day has come and gone.

One day, I will speak. One day, I will know.
One day, I will believe.

LOVE.

Why Handphones Should Have Cameras – by Maygalai T

Article 1

Unidentified Nike Bag found near Kovan MRT Station.
Bomb? Smelly shoes and socks?
BOTH CAN KILL.

PLEASE CALL 999 if you see any suspicious articles lying unattended in MRTS, outside MRT stations, and near the escalators of MRT Stations. It is hard to resist the urge to unzip this suspicious article and REVEAL ITS HIDEOUS, secretive, and highly flammable insides.

Will the Yishun Mrt Bomb incident be repeated, yet again?

Article 2

National University of Singapore (NUS) Students have been spotted with coloured hair all the time. Now its just the unconventional colours. Try arguing with NUS kids – they’ll write you 4000 word essays on how the word ‘unconventional’ should be defined and that defining purple hair as unconventional is purely a label, and that judgement of an individual should not be based on hair colour.

The Purple Song :

Purple is tinkywinky.
Purple is barney.
Purple is the colour of the masses.
We all Love Purple.

Communism is a wonderful thing, where everyone marches, sings songs, and behaves in a highly patriotic way. Purple, all the way, go go go!

Article 3

The model on the left is about $164, the one on the right about $80.
Photo taking is not allowed in shops, and doing so may result in you getting thrown out of the shop. However, I have taken great risk in taking this photos so that readers know what to buy me if they have nothing to do with their money – the two red figurines in the photo.

THE END

FUNNY BOY is a charming, easily understood book, which touches on the themes of homosexuality, racism, and relationships within the family. Set in Sri Lanka, and through the eyes of Arjie, who likes to dress up in saris and put on nail polish. I thought it was a pretty great book. He knows much more than he’s supposed to know – he follows his aunt to see her secret lover, finds out about his mother’s love, and grows to understand the hatred and violence that he is living in. The book is more about the Tamil/Sinhalese conflict than anything else. Sad too. A Must Read.

:)

I have been telling myself to watch Deepa Mehta’s Trilogy – FIRE/EARTH/WATER for the past 4-5 months. But I have not. Which is silly because I had so much time to kill on my hands. Nevertheless. Let me tell you about these 3 movies, one of which is banned in many countries, and one which talks about the effect of the partition of India and one which was almost banned from being produced. Rather controversial films, perhaps? However, its kinda like a spoiler if anyone wants to watch these films – that i highly doubt. They are all very GP-ish films, I would think.

I find Mehta’s insistence and determination very remarkable. What do I mean? http://www.brightlightsfilm.com/28/water.html – Read this. I’m not lazy to copy and paste it here, but it’ll just seem like a lot of crap that nobody wants to read if its all copied onto my blog. You should take a look at it.

The songs were composed by A.R. Rahman whilst the background score was composed by Mychael Danna. The soundtrack was released by international label, Varèse Sarabande. Due to some problems with this movie in India, the Audio CD clearly states that the CD is not to be sold in India and Pakistan. You can watch its trailer here, although I have a MUCH better one, but I don’t know how to upload it- Of the 3 movies, the quality of this is the best, well i would think so because its the most recent :) Anwy, the link is http://www2.foxsearchlight.com/water/

And of course, the music is by ARR. When i first heard Fire’s soundtrack (it doesn’t have songs per se unlike most hindi movies because.. its not very Bollywood style), I was rather freaked out. OR perhaps it just seemed freaky then. I think i first heard the soundtrack, in Sec 3? Now, i don’t know. Its been a while since I sat down to listen to FIRE’s soundtrack. Nothing exceptionally great, but its not bad.

1. Fire (1996)
   The first film in the series, Fire (1996), is set in contemporary India. It was a highly controversial film due to its explorations of gender, marriage, and sexuality (namely, lesbianism).
2. Earth/1947 (1998)
   Earth (1998) (released in India as 1947: Earth) tells the story of the partition of India in 1947 from the vantage point of a young Parsi girl.
3. Water (2005)
   The final film in the trilogy, Water (2005), is set in the 1930s and focuses upon the lives of a group of widows.

Fire

Radha (Shabana Azmi) is an obedient and dutiful New Delhi wife who has patiently endured the celibacy of her husband Ashok for 15 years. Disappointed that she was unable to give him a child, he has devoted himself to a swami. When his brother Jatin brings home his new wife Sita (Nandita Das), the two women become friends. Jatin is still loyal to his Chinese mistress and has no love for his wife. Sita has no respect for female subservience and soon leads Radha into a lesbian affair. Ashok’s religious mother, hobbled by a heart attack, witnesses their unfolding relationship. A servant eventually tells Ashok what is going on.

1947 Earth

This an powerful story about the partition of India into two countries, India and Pakistan. There was a huge movement of people between the two countries, and thousands of people were massacred. The story takes place in Lahore, just before the partition, and is seen through the eyes of a ten-year old Parsi girl. She has a Hindu nanny, who is young and attractive. The nanny has a group of admirers, a Hindu, a Sikh and two Muslims. The director, Deepa Mehta, uses this little group of friends to portray the break-up of the country. At first they stay loyal to each other, but as the violence touches them, the cracks appear and suspicion and hatred creep in. This movie graphically depicts the violence of ethnic cleansing, the horror of which overshadows the beauty of romance, the closeness of friendship and the happiness of families.

Water

Deepa Mehta’s “Water” is a about an 8-year-old Hindu widow sent to live in an Indian ashram with other widows who, in strict adherence with Hindu texts, are condemned to the same outcast fate. It focuses on a relationship between one of the widows, who wants to escape the social restrictions imposed on widows, and a man who is from a lower caste and a follower of Mahatma Gandhi.

And oh well, I better be getting down to watching Water and Earth soon. Fire seems utterly boring from the snippets I’ve seen, very slow moving but i’ll also take a look because some of its reviews look rather good. And thats the end of my update for today. =) sayonara. Its back to school tmr!

Guilty!!

Guilty!!

**

Smiles! I met her to give her the wedding gift.. and she said she’ll put the 2 bears on her wedding car! YEAH! :) And yes i am hopeless, i didn’t recognise her. OMG. I really couldn’t. I shld try meeting people .. more than once in 3 years.

I woke up today with a bad nightamre. It was so realistic. And so unbelievable. I woke up .. Really like almost sweating. As in .. That fear. I can still feel that fear.. And. I woke with the worst pain in my LEG? Does that make sense? MUSCLE pain! DAMN PAINFUL. For no rhyme of reason. I think its the absolute worst start of the day.

i am waiting for tmr to be over. It is a long day tmr and it will end late. My sunday is dedicated to .. staying home? I don’t know. I need to pop by Little India tmr.. I wanted to go tmr, but my day is freaking damn packed with CRAP.

I think akki is world’s nonsenes girl.. to call me just to tell me her brother killed a coackroach. And it reminded her of the rat story. But *shudders* when i saw the dead rat myself. .It was a .. .. it caused goosebumps man. EEEEEEEEEEH.

Presenting… THE CONFESSION -by yours truely.

I am dead. Why? Because this is a confession. A confession to be read after I have killed myself. In my life, I have no regrets. Mistakes – numerous. Til now, I regret taking my own life with my hands. For who am I to decide when I die, when I had no say in when I was born? Yet I’ve made that decision for countless others. Now, the reason to that is very simple. The things I will confess here will give me probably the death penalty when disclosed. Sadly, I am no more alive and will be unable to even stand for trial. I will have accomplished what I set out to do, and I have won.

Do I look like a murderer to you? Looks are decieving. It helps having a plastic surgeon at home, really. Who else can help you to cover up. I was just a little
girl when the idea of being a forensic scientist appealed to me. Alternatively, a grave digger. Or do I sympathise with cannibals? How can we discriminate them for eating man? Fear of the unknown causes us to hate. I gave them a chance. And yet..

My skin is wrinkled. Shrivelled. I gaze at the stream and wince at my reflection. I am an eyesore. The only thing that looks young and alive are my eyes. Dark brown eyes. Supported by the heavy eye bags that age my face even more. There is a twinkle in them that has barely faded over the years. My smile is sincere in its toothless grin. But wait. I am no more as human as I thought I was. If I ever was, for was I not inhumane? I hardly smile, and my eyesight fails. My only friend is my shadow, who never leaves me but is never always there. I trust no one.

And yet, I wonder. How can I be a sinner, when I have sinned in the eyes of the world but not in my own eyes? It is a label that has been tattooed on me, unfairly. The weak never wins. No! I fight, I fought, I will fight for the underdog. My wrath will engulf the rich, the jealous, the greedy. I slit throats with a gracefulness that no one can match. It is – art. My eyes have seen everything, except my own head in my hands after my own throat is slit.

I appear distraught, deranged, but I know that I am not. I am haunted only by my memories. The only thing that makes my heart feel so sunken. Time steals everything away…. It steals the memories away bit by bit… I can see them fading away…

I live in fear. I live in fear of death.
I live in fear of life. I live in fear.

I fear to live.
I fear to die.

I am fear.
Fear am I.

Why do I fear? I fear what I know not.
I fear what I know, for what I do not know does not let me know that I fear it. Hidden. Ambiguous. I try to lead another but I am blind. Hark, I can see, but all that I do not see is the same as what I do. Sight blinds me, the shining darkness.

I fear. I fear.
It irks me, itching, I cant scratch. A wound etched deep at the centre of my back, on me, touchable yet untouchable, I cannot reach but I am not out of reach. Carved with a pen, sewed with beads, split at the seam and a drop of blood dripping but not falling. I hear the pit pattering of droplets, but I was born deaf.

Dread drowns me.

Scrubbed my shoes, but doesn’t look too clean -but i dont like shoes in washing machines- read TINTIN, and watched MTV Ask – with BSB. Haha. Just happened to be showing that when i swapped channels, man i’m damn bored to be flipping channels on the tv. but only for half hour, and i’m back here.

Finally started on my “Forgiveness and Revenge” by Trudy Govier. I want to buy this book. ‘Cos i think i’ll return it tmr, and of course i’m nowhere near finishing. My fault, should have started it earlier.. now its already overdue! So anyway.. (hey, that reminds me of the book that got me to start reading again.. “Anyway”…)

Perhaps i’ll talk about forgiveness another time. When is something unforgivable? Or should we always forgive a person no matter how terible the crime is? And when you forgive, do you forgive the person, the deed, neither, or both? A little write-up from the book.. The context is of obviously – whether to forgive a murderer.

“Forgiveness is pitiless. It forgets the victim. It negates the right of the victim to his own life. It blurs over suffering and death. It drowns the past. It cultivates sensitiveness towards the murderer at he price of insensitiveness towards the victim. Whoever forgives the murderer blinds himself to the vastest letting of blood . . . It is forgiveness that is relentless. the fact of forgiveness is mild, but how stony to the slaughtered.” -frm the book

But would it be wrong to not forgive a murderer, if he relents? I don’t know, yet. When considering that question.. it infact, causes more questions to arise. How would one know if he relents? Hmm.

Mankind is ostensibly striving to avert catasrophes; medical progress gives us hope that one day disease can be conquered, but willwe ever be able to prevent the creation of mass murderers? – Simon Wiesenthal, The Sunflower

Forgive and forget – a cliche line? Forgiving is one thing, forgetting is one thing. But is it right to put them together? Would a father forgive a person who raped his daughter? Rarely yes, but possible. But it makes absolutely no sense for him to forget that the whole thing happened. To forgive, actually, is to remember. But in a way that is not bitter and resentful, and of grief and hatred.

I know of angry people, who are resentful and regret a lot. But let’s try putting ourselves in their shoes. A resentful person is one who is bitter about what has happened to him/her, bitter about doing things they don’t want to, angry that people dont seem to understand them, and ultimately resigning to their fate that they’re quite hopeless and all alone in this world. Right?

Is this because they have grudges? Trust me. The only reason I get angry at certain people is because, I can’t forgive them for certain things = grudge. Its usually a lie when people say that they don’t keep grudges, esp if they’re the type who get angry. However, (to me) I don’t think that it is a deliberate and conscious lie. Its just one of those innate things that humans have. And since they don’t know its a lie, they can’t admit it, they can’t learn from it, they can’t get rid of the grudge and it becomes this kind of tumour. Yep. And it grows and grows. Today I might seem happy talking with person A, yet if i need help or need to work with A, I’ll suddenly remember the grudge that happend 10 years ago and start finding fault. Let’s put it this way, you see and do what you WANT to see and do. You could be next to an angel, but if you already think that she’s a devil, everything that she does will appear wrong, and its so easy to find fault. Ain’t that why they say love is blind? You could love … (i can’t think of anything) some absolute evil man, but it’d seem alright to you ‘cos you’d choose to notice the good parts and – hey! forgive the bad ones?

But then again! It probably isn’t really forgiveness, just a temporary blindness. Goes back to the circle of sub-consciously not being able to truly forgive.

I guess.. After talking so much. I gotta learn how to forgive that one person I hate so much. Why tho’? *shrugs*

letsh shee. =) i watched Little mermaid. with a notebook and pencil. lol. i’m nuts. so that i can blog down. Its real quotes – hah! i wrote them down. Well, basically, little mermaid, is the story, of ARIAL and ERIC. *grins*

The song “Part Of Your World” is very nice -

[When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love to explore that shore above?

Out of the sea, Wish I could be part of that world]

Sebastian is supremly cute, and the fish and sea creatures are all so happy! Singing “Under the Sea – The seaweed is always greener -In somebody else’s lake” Everyone is dancing, moving around, looking so cheerful. I get reminded of Harjinder’s birthday celebrations you know. When we all surprised her in the council room, and sang songs.. and cut the cake.. haa. Anwy, as i was saying – her father gets super angry when he finds out she loves a human, and destroys all the things in her room. Ariel is sad. [sigh]

Point 1 : People don’t think straight when they are sad or angry.

Clearly shown when Arial doesn’t listen to Flounder or Sebastian [i mean, they are so so so nice to her okay.. so sweet darlings!] and she gets psychoed by the EVIL EELs. She says No at first, but sigh, emotional blackmail. They kick the face of the statue to her.. of cos she will say yes. They say they will bring her to “someone who can make all your dreams come true”.. and she, despite Sebastian’s great “NO!” when faced with the decision of becoming a human, she agrees. Silly right, see, never think before making decisions.

Point 2 : This question of upbringing. Hmm.

Sometimes i wonder, is it nature or nurture that makes a person who he is. =) The evil sea witch tells Arial “One might question your upbringing” when she loiters in the corridor. Why is that line brought up? Interesting point to note on. But it wasn’t really her father’s fault that she was like that, or was it? He did try to discipline her, but was it too much that made her like that? Or was she pampered? Hmm.

The song “Poor unfortunate souls” is rather funny, with silly and cute lyrics. In between..

[Ariel:] If I become human, I’ll never be with my father or sisters again.
Sigh.

[Ursula:] But you’ll have your man. Life’s full of tough choices, innit?

When she loses her voice, she is so absolutely cute when she smiles. Lol. I really admire the animation. When she makes friends with the Prince and all.. The scene goes to the kitchen. It is highly amusing to see Sebastian get a shock when he sees the seafood. Duh, nxt to the sea, people would eat sea food cos its right next to them! He almost dies when he sees the crabs. Because of the silly seagull who told them that the fork is meant to comb hair, Arial combs her hair with the fork and shocks people. GRIN. Her two friends sayang her a lot.. so sweeet.. haha!

Point 3 : Children who watch this cartoon will learn NOT to eat seafood.

Why? Cos Sebastian is cute. aww. I mean, i’d use that as an excuse not to eat… fish!! BUT – i watched this cartoon when i was older. GRR. Hmm.. But i like crab tho’.. lol.

On the 2nd day, everyone [sea family] tries to get Eric to kiss Arial. Its so cute, the way they do it. Mr Seagull tries to sing, sadly failing miserably. He sqawks terribly.. HAHA! They can’t kiss cos of the evil sea gulls. Anwy, the fat witch turns herself into a woman and almost gets married to Eric. Mr blur seagull discovers this! And he brings this whoele army of birds and sea creatures! Flounder swims and tries to pull Arial along.. AAH. so sweet yet agaiN!

Point 4 : However much your dad seems to hate you, he doesn’t really. :P

The King gives himself up to let his daughter live. Ugh. Not something that Arial would have anticipated, i presume.

Point 5 : People are more power hungry, evil, and ruthless then you think they are. 

The witch ah. Aiyo. Evil monster.

The story ends of happy. YEAH. =) The power of love. Aww.

[pity life and love are so smooth only in cartoons.]