Broken fingernails, Chipped at the corners; And cuticle cellulite Leaves none to the imagination. A tummy, rumbling to the ends of Large intestines, withheld from capacity. Hydrochloric acid is a large energetic burden A frail girl's stomach cannot hold. A contrite spirit, full of regret and sorrow, hammers at the soul of one and many, unjustified. When the facade falls in utterly stunned nothingness, The human is hollowed out, awaiting the next fulfilment.
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Melbourne has caused me to rethink 'acclimatise'. The word is not the same as 'assimilate', as I found out as the coldness of the temperate winter seeps into the new season, and seeps through a 44kg body used to a tropical climate. Autumn, with its ubiqitous fallen leaves, was beautiful and balmy. I cockily thought I could survive the next season as it gradually turned colder. The Melburnian winter, though by no means harsh, was unbearably cold - below my horrorfreeze threshold - on some days. It is hard to describe; it would have to be experienced, to be felt. The arid wintry cold is so drying that it crusts up a sandwich in a matter of minutes, and makes my otherwise plump lips cracked and chapped. As I tap on my keyboard and type this post, my fingers feels like how it would be if I stick them in the freezer for two minutes, only I didn't do that. The atmosphere, the air, was enough to chill my fingers, toes, nose, and sometimes brain. The frosty weather and a limpid consiousness seem to be synonymous. I just want to be lazied up and warmed up, and do nothing else except slump in front of a heater. Even that gives me an odd sensation - my limbs are getting their surfaces burned by the direct heat, but the bones are still cold from the inside. This is what a popsicle must feel like when a warm tongue licks it. On the more toasty side, I finally have smoky breath, and an electric blanket. Both are presents, from nature, and a kindred friend.
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1. Because China is becoming the next world superpower, so you should hang out with Asians more - to learn Chinese, to eat rice, to laugh at their button noses.
2. Because if Pirates of the Carribean 3 depicts Singapore as pirate-infested with Chow Yunn Fatt as the lecherous pirate lord, you must come to a Singaporean's (rented) Lair.
3. Because people who come will have a chance to get pirate loot bags. Or goodie bags, or doggy bags, however you call it. Trea...sure. Aye?
4. Because it's really easy to go to Kew East from the city. Take tram 48 from Flinders/Swanston Street, or bus 207 from Lonsdale/Swanston Street. Sailing time is a mere half an hour, with 2 mins of walking time from alight point to doorstep.
5. Because it's winter and Jenny is going to cook steamboat!!! You can also name any Chinese dish and Jenny will ATTEMPT to cook it for your gastronomic pleasure. While you dig in, choir-trained Jenny can also sing a song for you.
6. Because you can bring your own music, partners, animals, potblesses, movies or sudoku puzzles. Beer in all kinds of containers will be provided. BYO, or ROTFLOL, mate.
7. Because for RMIT students, the first semester of the graduate diploma in journalism is finally OVER! This made us pull our hair out from writer's block, and cry tears of frustration. Now, if only tears can cure cancer.
8. Because Jen is alone in Melby with all her folks 6000km away, and is dying to practise some aussie lingo in trade with Firefly galactic phrases.
Avast, and Adios!
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after stoning on the bed's edge for 4 hours, i trudged out of the house this afternoon in my bedroom slippers, only realising my choice of shoes at the bus stop. it's not as simple as waking up on the wrong side of the bed when I also forgot to wash my face or pluck my eyebrows or have a decent bit of breakfast or do the dishes. I feel hugely ineloquent, shitty that the transcribing for my in-depth article is not done yet, and like a dumbass because writer's block is rapidly clearing out my brain space. i'll have to sink to the roots and sip some water from the soil. i wish i can be reborn in a new country.
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As the stage was shrouded with blue light, Ryan Hearts opened the concert with a quiet ban. Hauntingly sweet tunes alternating with an upbeat tambourine and clappy rhythm, then darker numbers. Acoustics not as good when you're standing right at the front, but lead singer's effortless schoolgirl beauty shines through the smoke machine's output. Woolshed atmosphere is as raw as the sound reverberating through your being as you stand on the wooden ground. Can't help but notice how all opening acts are similar in genre with the main act. Layering sweet ethereal voice was welcoming and warming from the cold winter air outside. Best song was as usual last, with a teenybopper climax. Old Man River with his boisterous candy rock was next in the lineup. Almost comedic with afro-cuban hair and a lanky frame, but songs like La were infectious verbal grub with 2 melody lines! Lots of major keys with adorned guitar. Much better live than recorded, espcially the song Sunshine. A tighter band than the first opening band. Finally at 10pm, 2 and a half hours after stated gig start time, Thirsty Merc appeared to quench the audience. Lead singer is Orlando-Bloom lookalike ruffian. Better lighting, Shadows animalist. Influenced by Bon Jovi and Silverchair. Too long breaks in between makes the crowd rowdy and impatient and a fight broke out after Thirsty Merc turned down an encore offer.
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