The PS1

If I were to own an ‘it’ bag, this would be the bag I would like to get.

Proenza Schouler PS1

of Death and other things

The other day my mother told me (very calmly) she probably would not live for long; today in the car she expressed some scepticism at living past 2020.

The first time I heard her say this, a deep chill ran down my spine and my inner hypochondriac went into overdrive worrying about any of her ailments (privately). Another time, I was so frustrated I openly defied all the rules on the “How to be a good child” rulebook and agitatedly told her to slap her own mouth (Slapping her myself is impossible) Today, I can’t remember what I felt because..I tried to ignored it.

I guess know that the primary feeling that powers my emotional responses is an undercurrent of fear. It floods and ebbs but never goes away; and every time my mother mentions her “upcoming death (read as inability to live)” it seems as if a small current of fear buzzes into my brain, travelling through my veins to reach the final destination of my heart. Forgive the tacky use of the ill constructed metaphor, what I want to say is how these comments seem to destabilise my emotional state and stun me into denial.

Now this entry is not a release of the emotional baggage I carry nor an entry to rant about how useless I feel as my mother’s daughter. Those are issues which I cannot find the words to describe so they are best kept private. This entry is supposed to be a musing on why such public expression of death can ignite such fear. For starters, this emotion of fear is interesting, for it is a amalgam of varied fragments of fear compounded together. The fear of being left behind, fear of not knowing her reasons for saying such a thing, the fear of the immediate future following her passing, the fear of physically losing her….

So I wonder why… Why do I get so scared when I hear this expression of  ”impeding death”? I understand that death is part of the natural life cycle; in my own opinion, the Mandarin phrase “生老病死” (A very literal translation: Be Born/Grow Old/Get Sick/Die) concisely summarises the process of our biological existence. I fully accept that one’s physical body has to die some day and God willing, I would want to embrace my own death with open arms and light heart . I accept the glorification of death by accepting the concept of martyrdom, I pray for the grieving families of murder victims, I try to present an intellectual discussion on topics such as euthanasia and assisted suicide. Death is all around me, so why I am averse to hearing my mother speak of her upcoming death?

Is it the Asian/Chinese culture where ‘death’ is considered taboo?

Oh drats, I think I may have been off-topic all along. I guess the issue in question is not the subject of death itself but the identity of the dead person. If I was having dinner with a complete stranger and he/she told me they thought they were going to die, I might have the strength to continue the conversation and attempt to comfort them or tell them about my own fascination of my future funeral, depending on the mood. I think the deep and unsettling fear is not a fear of death itself but a fear of the grief and mourning that will come when someone I love passes on. As I read the previous paragraphs and I read this portion “The fear of being left behind, fear of not knowing her reasons for saying such a thing, the fear of the immediate future following her passing, the fear of physically losing her….” I realise they are mostly depictions of the mourning and the grieving that follows the death of a loved one. If grief is the response to loss (in my case it would be an inability to accept loss) then this fear is not a fear of death but a fear of what death brings.

No wonder they say dying is the easy part.

So much for the “exploration of the fear of death” and my half-baked attempt at writing a detached and intelligent post. My hopes for a thought-provoking post turns out to be all poppycock and basically everything I write just seems to be a form of Catharsis. Oh well, nothing works best then to sleep and temporarily forgot about everything.

Hi 2010

New year, new life, new rules.

I need some sleep.

Fashionmation

Sequined silk-blend dress from Alberta Ferretti

Image from Net-A-Porter.

Ooh Yummy

-

The future seems so bleak.

Some form of catharsis?!

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sadscaredhappysadhappysadhappysadsaddepressedguiltysadhappy
lovedblessedlonelysolownumboutofpalceutterlyconfusedhappysadsadsad

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Why Are They Hurrying?

• I liked this year’s National Day Parade – it was a refreshing change from the mould that shaped the Parades of past years.
• Everyone’s busy attending tea sessions and university talks, full of goals and aspirations are they.
• Me? I’m still dreaming of being a fish-farmer/art curator/foodie/artist manager/happily married tai-tai
• Maybe I’m  just a dreamer and nothing more

Please watch The Cove when it is released in Singapore.

Of Infections and Brouhahas

• My inner hypochondriac is  going to work overtime this week and the next. First my abnormal headaches and now my brother’s high fever!
• Funny enough, I like fantasising about my death.
• Fracas in class – I don’t think anyone involved will read this but its sad to see friendship turn into animosity. Are we still hoping time will heal everything?
• Conclusion: I am feeling so disconnected I even signed up on Twitter.com

All Of My Days

This is just for reference; and to record that me spending time on the Internet is not entirely wasted. I love how I have access to so much media in this virtual world. The Internet gives me an avenue to craft up big, fantastical dreams (probably unrealistic because I’m lazy like that)

Anyway, word of the day: mondegreen (:

Movie to watch:

Away We Go

Credit: http://www.joblo.com/index.php?id=25674

The soundtrack is great listening with Alexi Murdoch tracks ((:

I was surfing swissmiss

[EDIT] The Shiny Squirrel link is dead.

This piece reminds me of happy days in Shanghai with 4 other 15 year olds and a funny old man as our teacher in charge. Happy days; solely from imagination and memory because the photographs I took are all gone, probably floating around as thousands of kilobytes in the digital universe which I cannot see D:

Highlight of the day: I keep getting paper cuts from the spine of those binded books of prelim papers! It’s a great way to start the studying process – now I look like one stressed up student with all the pent up rage and scars on my wrist to prove it.