Fitness First

Grab two girlfriends or flamboyant gayfriends and get in shape for summer with this:



Sweat it out slow.

All I Want For Christmas Is.... ?

Wow. Two posts in one day. I told you Christmas is always uneventful for me.
I've been thinking of the gifts I would have liked to receive today. My mother usually makes me choose my own birthday gift (alongside other gifts which she posts to me because I'm always, always away from home). She knows how fussy I am. To be honest, the best non self-picked gifts I have received are from Hat. Tis true. But ah, I digress.


Funny how at the end of 2009, it has become apparent to me that my list of 'wants' has shrunk considerably. So, my Noel list is short and sickly sweet. Here we go:

1. Home. I want to go home, even if it's just for a day. I miss the comfort of my mother, brother and my dearest friends. I miss the sticky humidity, my cats, the leisure of never having to do any house work. I miss the countless nights with my closest friends, which would end just before dawn at some random greasy food joint..with iced lemon tea served in the most unhygienic manner but more importantly- every night concluded with smiles plastered all round.

2. Okay, if home doesn't work out, I want Hat to live with me here again. Actually, this tops my list.


3. A cat. A cute, congenial, fluffy one. Preferably black with green eyes.

4. Jellybones reciprocity. Only hat will understand this.

5. Good grades and a good job here next year.

Too bad you can't box and wrap up most of these things. Too bad I didn't get any. Oh, well.


Merry merry.

25:12

Christmas morning...

has never meant much to me.Red stockings, tinsel and tassel, eggnog, mistletoe, mince pies, mulled wine. These things never furbished my December days.

Merriment is supposed to lace the air but when I gazed out of my window this morning, the streets were stripped bare of people. Fog engulfed buildings in the near distance. And even now, inching in closer towards the PM, not a sound is heard. Cheer is trapped indoors today, where the doors are locked by the warmth of familial love. Must be nice.

Happy Christmas, everyone.

Post-vain

During one of the many long nights I have spent with a person who has somehow become consistent nightly company for me, I was asked a terribly common question : How would you describe yourself?

I honestly couldn't answer the question. I think in my time alone coupled with time spent with such a diverse range of individuals with different upbringings, ideologies, interests and principles has resulted only in the confusion (or worse yet the decadence) of any sense of a core personality. So, who am I? I'm a million different people; who ever you want me to be; who ever I need to be at any given time.

In the spirit of reciprocity and conversation, I asked him to describe himself. He said : post-vain, unhappy, different. Hardly helpful.. apart from the first description, the others are too broad to warrant meaning one should identify with so specifically. I had never heard the term 'post-vain', so I probed. He told me that in his younger days, he was unacceptably vain- spent too much time getting ready, wore the right clothes, charmed girls effortlessly, took it to heart when strangers on the street did not notice him..that sort of male vanity which makes you sick in your mouth. He then went on to say that he's moved on from those days. To be fair, it would appear that he was being honest because if you saw him, you would think there really is little, if any, pride attached to his appearance..I always hate what he's wearing. Almost ironically, this also makes me a bit sick in my mouth. He said 'post-vain' is when you've had enough of worldly beauty- you realise that you've been trying so hard to impress others with your physical appearance that you become less and less comfortable in your own skin. So he succumbed to the rebellious 16 year old solution (only 10 years too late), by cursing society and conformity. By becoming his own person, dressing the way he likes, and learning to not let his degree of attractiveness to the rest of the world affect him.


Utter. BULLSHIT. It couldn't be more obvious to my eyes that he's making a conscious effort to physically emulate Brandon Boyd. Yeah, you're about a decade and a bit too late, honey.


The moral of the story is : never describe yourself to anyone. Suspicion and cynicism are ripe in our time and age.

Who believes in fate?

I'm wary of it. To me it's something of an indefinable deceptive force, which we succumb to when we stumble upon intriguing coincidences, which we then find ourselves wanting to attach some meaning of 'higher order' to...the word 'fate' being the most convenient. Blasphemous, I know. Blame it on life experience. Skepticism renews itself on a monthly basis here, with a more pointed prong. It shreds all romanticism, the concept of fate included.


I was at a point in life where I had given up hope on not only love, but sadly enough, even companionship. I had resigned to the nightly inevitability of retiring to an empty bed. And then everything changed. My advice to you is : always have enough cigarettes on you so that you don't end up being a complete tramp by asking the person sitting closest to the door if you could have a cigarette.

two thousand and dead

december is here and 2009 will come to an end. its been an ok year. nothing stimulating nothing exciting nothing to reminisce about. i just want it to be over quicker. the end of the year comes with another pointless, repeated new year's resolutions and i only have two; to be less like me (positive/motivated/less judgmental/livelier) and to go away alone anywhere if only for a week.

actually i feel bad for saying this year has been void of memorable moments. there are loads im sure but just like pictures i hate looking back and remind myself of things that have happened. and isnt it human nature to not remember the good things and only dwell on the bad stuff (or only us?). that is why i prefer looking forward than thinking about the past. ahh see positivity! im already starting my resolution.

p/s: i wish that certain people dont talk to me about their love life because ... i dont give a fuck (even if we're family). and i never know what/how to reply because im afraid i will offend them if i ask too much or too little. i also feel like they're trying to validate their love life by telling other people (always me). its strange how they never want to make conversations when they dont have a lovelife. i feel so ... used. bah no its not directed to anyone close to me, clearly.

the forever song,


xx,
hat

What Went Wrong

And so, after several months of experimenting with fleeting relief outlets, she decided that the remedy to her woes did not lurk amongst the rickety company of forgotten acquaintances, nor did it lurk in the deceptively intriguing nightlife offered by public houses and discotheques.


Her endeavours had only served to sharpen her dismay, and to enable a brand new, heightened sense of disillusionment with life. Former optimistic prospects of happiness withered away with the leaves of Autumn, as winter bustled in and froze her face, fingers and heart until she could feel nothing at all.


True, she had met a considerable number of former strangers. They had failed to survive the bridge to friendship and remained stranded in the negligible, unfortunate pool of acquaintances. She had failed to see any real potential of sincere friendship amongst all of the faces her tired eyes met with. Granted, this may be a fault of her own- she had grown exceedingly wary of people and could not trust them-especially new faces. She justified this with the common logic that precautions are needed to avoid future hurt and harm. Like a true chameleon, she slipped in and out of a myriad of personalities to better suit her designated company, losing more and more of herself as she shape-shifted.


As she recollected the disgraceful and atrociously futile events that had transpired in the past, she realised that what she needed was exactly that which she could not ever possibly locate in all the avenues she had clumsily explored. All that was missing was the comfort and camaraderie of her best friend.

An Old Song

Six/Seven years down the road and this is still one my favouries. I need to learn to divorce myself from my teenage emo frame of mind.


"Oh, Christ..I'm not that desperate!Oh, no..oh God, I am."

alone alone alone, not alone at all

life is mundane as shit. nothing exceptional will ever happen to me. nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing

weekend getaway

Friday night has come and gone. I spent mine watching half of Old Boy (upon a friend's insistence. gave up half way through. it just failed to amuse me in the way it has managed to amuse almost everyone else who has watched it). I then attempted to watch another film, Factotum, which also turned out to be equally as dire. Factotum, without a doubt, is the most mundane, soulless film I have ever sat through. I would have been better off observing the fine lines that decorate the white walls of my apartment. Following the bleakness of the 'events' that had unfolded, I decided to go to bed at 10pm. I think it was a great idea. I got approximately 12 hours of sleep, woke up completely refreshed...only to realise that this city has nothing to offer me. And so, as I did last week, I will board a train to London in a vain attempt to reestablish some form of social life. Wish me luck. I need all I can get-it never works out well. Often, upon return, I am left with thoughts of regret and disappointment. It is far too embarrassing and painful to retell. Well, in other news, I have done something which is totally uncharacteristic of me- I just asked a boy out. I have not yet received a reply but us girls have woman's intuition, which essentially tells me it will be of the negative. I tried, what can I say..we need to get by, don't we? Bah, most of the time, I am just looking for a shoulder to rest my head on. Then again, aren't we all, my lovelies?



Here's to hopes of good responses and of course, a good weekend.

Love,
sciolizm

Little thoughts..

do you ever watch films and find yourself completely absorbed in them-it could be anything, the plot, a certain character ..it's like something in the screen jumps out and grabs your psyche. if the human race is anything at all like me, i'd say it holds a feeble and clumsy disposition...full of inhibitions, lacking courage, yearning for something, anything to identify with-even if it means fictional technicoloured two dimensional characters. bah. it happens to me a lot but one of the films that really struck the right chord with me was Girl, Interrupted. so here, i can relate:

For every boy I've ever loved

For the purpose of this post I am using the word with unwarranted, inappropriate liberty. In all honesty, I have never loved most of them. Hindsight tells me that these are my major mistakes. I have truly loved only twice in my life and I can say unequivocally that I have used up the necessary emotion to enable a re-ignition of the feeling hereon. So I will summarise my long list of lustful endeavours by song(s), rather than by name. It just makes it that much more mysterious. But having said that, if any of them ever do so unfortunately stumble upon this blog, they will recognise their musical identity immediately. I just think it's kind of fun (sad times, sciolizm) . And i'm also bored out of my little mind. So anyway, here we go:

1. BON JOVI- ALWAYS. My first crush: I was 9, he was 12. laugh your heart out. i bumped into him again when i was 14. he got deported from Philly because he was caught in possession of alcohol when he was 17. still absolutely gorgeous nonetheless.

2.OUR LADY PEACE- ARE YOU SAD?; DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL- AGAIN I GO UNNOTICED My second major crush. at the time, his girlfriend shared the same name as me. i was 'taking' to him online once when i was at my grandma's. he insisted on coming over and asked if he could get cookies. i was 13...14.. this crush lasted for ages because i was shallow at the time and he looked like Conner from Sweet Valley High. adolescent lust. so pure, so embarrassing. he never came over, i was dorky and awkward- he laughed about me with his friends. i bumped into him last year, he tried to kiss me. i slapped him. don't you love it when the tables turn?

3. SMASHING PUMPKINS- MAYONAISE. i love this boy to death. we are still friends. i would like to say good friends but i put so little effort into the friendship. he's pretty persistent. he listens to me, he makes me laugh endlessly. he's the most talented musician i have met in my life. he would be so much further in life if he only didn't get so distracted by the drinking, the drugs, the problems. what can i say? we're all human. i actually really do love him, as a friend, how awful.


4. RADIOHEAD- HIGH & DRY; THE USED- ON MY OWN; TEAMSLEEP/DEFTONES- anything at all. at the time, i felt like he was my first love. typically, he was about 3 years older than me. he was intelligent (deception, deception!), caring, talented, modest, quite cute. i was 16, naive at best. he led me on, broke my heart, denied it, got me into trouble with his girlfriend, etc. you know how it works. i heard that he packed on plenty of pounds recently so i'm feeling pretty much triumphant. in retrospect, i probably was in love with him.

5. HOPESFALL- THE BENDING. hardcore emo? you bet. this guy is married now. he was one of the most beautiful boys i had ever laid my eyes on. i was 17. he was 23. there was no chemistry. we ended up being friends on the most perverted level. he told me was a sex addict, needed help. i stopped talking to him. interestingly enough, he got fat as well.

6. This is a mini mixed tape. JACK'S MANNEQUIN- THE MIXED TAPE, anything by the MOVING UNITS, THE VELVET TEEN- STAY WITH ME, THE JULIANA THEORY- DON'T PUSH LOVE AWAY, ATHLETE-TOURIST, BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE- PITTER PATTER GOES MY HEART, COPELAND- TAKE CARE, ETC ETC ETC. my first real boyfriend. he was a pathological liar. i speak the truth. i was in love with him but he was too far away. we had a sprint of a relationship when we were 16. it lasted a month. rekindled when we were 19. lasted a year and a half. the distance and lies shred the love sharper than knives. disappointing. lying aside, the chemistry remains unparalleled. strange.

7. Oh, dear. I really loved this one. As Gwen sang, 'not only in love, i was obsessed..'..Our soundtrack would definitely include: FEIST-INTUITION, LALI PUNA- TOGETHER IN ELECTRIC DREAMS, AZURE RAY- RISE, DAFT PUNK-SOMETHING ABOUT US, BEE GEES- HOW DEEP IS YOUR LOVE, M83- SKIN OF THE NIGHT. there are so many other songs and yet nothing more i'd actually be comfortable enough to share.

8. FUNERAL FOR A FRIEND- SHE DROVE ME TO DAYTIME TV. That song isn't even appropriate. What can I say about this boy? Best looking boy on this list. Lived in England his whole life but is obsessed with China. Speaks Chinese. Is completely endearing. Used to send me messages telling me that he likes me, that he wants to see me. It never happened. I had hopes which eventually transformed into cynicism..can't say that I care about him at all anymore.

9. Strangely enough, Bon Jovi- Always.more importantly, THE WEAKERTHANS- PSLAMS FOR THE ELKS LODGE'S LAST; MIDLAKE - YOUNG BRIDE; I LOVE YOU BUT I'VE CHOSEN DARKNESS- YOUR WORST IS THE BEST; THE KILLERS- MR BRIGHTSIDE(JACQUES LU CONT REMIX). I was selflessly 'in love' with this one. I kind of changed my lifestyle for him-which he never knew..but he was too old, had too much experience for me to trust.


10. KINGS OF LEON- SEX ON FIRE, SLOW NIGHT/SO LONG, USE SOMEBODY. This boy. He's my age but he always seemed so much older on the one hand but on the other, he was the most childish junkie you would ever meet in your life. i'm not sure if he was ever aware that i had a irremovable soft spot for him, or if he was completely aware of it and decided to take full advantage of it. unilateral OVERWHELMING magnetic physical attraction. whatever. whilst everyone else at my university thought he was disgusting and dirty ( he didn't even go to my university..or any university!), i maintain that he was really, REALLY good company and charming..and oh so endearing. perhaps i give people the benefit of the doubt more than i should. although he pretty much treated me like a rotting door mat most of the time (apart from supplying cigarettes, umpteen bottles of wine, pizza on various occasions).. i miss him a lot, i do.. and wish we could just lay on our respective couches and watch dvds again.he's moved away now, as have i. i told him that i missed his company and he replied 'DITTO'. yes, cavalier is dead. or maybe i'm just attracted to top notch assholes.

11. RYAN ADAMS- LET IT RIDE
. if you are ever lucky enough to meet him, you will agree with me on the point that he is..STELLAR. he looks just like Paolo Nutini, only shamefully shorter but..prettier! he was such a darling. i think he wrote me songs, which i thought was cute and young...okay he was young. pedophilia begins!! we kept in touch for a couple of months, then he vapourised. as. per. fucking. usual. he had an amazing voice though. he was my peter pan and i was his wendy, how fucking cute. too ephemeral. i roll my eyes at the very thought these days.

12. I definitely saved the best for last. I developed this crush in my first year of university.. I have graduated now. I'm undertaking a post-graduate course in a different city now.. I haven't seen him for 1 year and 6 months.. and I still think about him a lot. fear not, it has not been constant.i'm not that loyal or.. pathetic(i hope).it's only when we are 'in contact' *god bless facebook*. needless to say, he has treated me worse than all the boys above combined and multiplied. yes, it does not make any sense. he makes me wish more than i should that attraction was more mutual than it was complicated and nonreciprocal..sad story of my life, you've heard it one too many times. he intrigues me. i think he is awkward, uncomfortable in his own skin..but he masks it well with callous arrogance. difficult to figure out. impenetrable. most of the time i think he was born without a heart, without the ability to feel anything. but that's just me being selfish and stupid-of course he feels..just not for me! unrequited lust, over and over and over again. well, how could i not fall head over heels for this boy...this is a selection of my favourite melodies (from the musical myriad we have shared):


anything by VOXTROT..its a mutual obsession; WILCO-JESUS,ETC; THE SMITHS- ASLEEP; MY BLOODY VALENTINE- I ONLY SAID; SONIC YOUTH- SHADOW OF A DOUBT; WASHED OUT-FEEL IT ALL AROUND; GRIZZLY BEAR-COLORADO...but most importantly:


THE UNICORNS- JELLYBONES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



bah..


to conclude,

i'm pretty unfortunate in this division. stubbornly cynical at best.....i lie. hopeless romantic to the core if you break the wall..which explains why i love this endlessly:




Xxx

sciolizm



XO

sciozlim

DESPERATE

i will let u know when im on 'our' island

the best thing about yesterday

i was introduced to this:



you have to listen to it twice at least..please! have i completely lost it or is this actually pretty fucking infectious?

behind my gameboy i got game, girl!

empty rant, empty remedy

in the year 2009, i turned 23. 23 is a pretty insignificant age to be if you ask me.all that the number 23 tells you is that you're getting older and that there is really nothing you can do about it. thus, i entered the age, as i did 22...equipped with a steel walled heart and a soul full of pessimism. granted, i recognise that the order of frivolous youth has long been cast away but foolishly, i still yearn for it in silence..

shameful.

with age comes responsibility, this does not mix well with my peter pan complex.. so i sit and think, and think, and think.over-analysing everything.what's most frustrating is the absence of any real conclusion.and so, i was told that this is the only known cure:





funny how i've always loved it but never admitted it.

An Alternative Outlet

Well I usually share the songs I've been listening to excessively/quarter life crisis anthems with a specific person (Re kissing in the rain, my bloody valentine). Two songs in one night might be a bit much, a bit too obvious, so I'm just going to have to share this with the rest of you. This song creeped up on me, wholly unexpectedly. I never bothered to listen to Pedro the Lion because (forgive my judgmental disposion..or rather, my pure ignorance) but..their name just managed to somehow form far too great an obstacle for me to ever think that their music could be even marginally worth a listen. Anyway, as I was sorting out my whites(laundry, that is) tonight..my ipod decide to surprise me. It was on the 'Recently Played' playlist and I swear, for the life of me, I have never ever deliberately put on Pedro the Lion. Anyway, this song came on. The lyrics held such accurate resonance with my life that I decided, without a doubt, that my Ipod had conspired against me, in a conscious effort to make me appreciate what is a pretty much obsolete band..or song at least. I will stop talking now. Enjoy:



good night.
Xx

Teach me FRUGALITY

High up on the long, long list of my bad habits is my inability to save money. The art of frugality, come to me! I tend to forget that I am a student and that I do, as a fact, live on a pretty tight budget. When I think back about all the things I've bought over the past 2 months or so, I get really panicky- I want to return everything and feel responsible and richer again. But no, that will not happen. So, instead, definitely not to brag or boast but rather to help you understand my acute problem and to help remind me that I really should stop shopping, here are a few pictures of my favourite recent purchases. Note that I said favourite..of course there's far more than I care to share...and it does not include all the books, dvds and albums I've bought... Let the panic attack begin!

The pictures had a very logical order to them, but I messed it up terribly so here they are, in no particular order. ugh.


One of My school bags. The other one is a mini suitcase. I swear.





I don't even know who made this but I love it and am never taking it off. I bought it at Selfridges and it half explains why I'm broke.



All Saints Motorcycle boots. I wear these to class almost everyday. My best friend in school hates them because he used to be in the army.



Evil Eye? Blue Topaz necklace from Pascal. I never take this off.




Another very recent purchase from Selfridges. This is by Vadi Jewels. The silver chain is pleated with a dark purple and navy blue velvet string. I love it. It wasn't that expensive either.



Black Acne asymmetrical dress with a slight ruffly detail on the side. I bought this out of pure desperation when I had to attend a dining session at my Inn. Don't ask.



I've worn this at least 5 times since I've bought it. Almost more than I've worn most of my other clothes. It's one of my favourite pieces. Thank you, Christopher Kane for creating something within my price range.



Everyone loves this ring. It's from Marc by Marc Jacobs. It's becoming increasingly tarnished. I wear it less now.






Again, I had to buy these for some law-related event. I needed a pair of 'proper court shoes' and thought I'd splurge. Little did I know that I'd end up with my heel stuck in one of those tiny holed drainage tiles they have in London..and so the patent on the heel is pretty much ruined. Ugh. The trials and tribulations of sciolizm.



Cheap Monday is fun. And yes, I rarely wear anything other than black. I should work at People's Revolution. I wish.





I don't like this dress anymore. I don't think I will wear it. I am not sure why I uploaded a picture of it. Christopher Kane for Topshop. Meh.





This is the one and only clock I have in my apartment. I got it from Urban Outfitters. Two days after I bought it, it went on sale. The moral of the story is basically, don't buy £30 clocks which are made out of cardboard.






Designer wine glass. Of course. I can't return it.





This tupperware set is TOO CUTE. I think there are about 4 smaller ones inside it. I've never brought a packed lunch to school though. See, WASTAGE.





Panda showercap. Hat had the shark one. I think I bought it because it reminded me of her.




I talk to this when I take a shower. I wish I was joking.


Over Summer, I became strangely fascinated by Hello Kitty. Thus, I figured the least I could do was have at least one Hello Kitty related item in my house. I ended up with a piggy bank. A Kitty Bank! It was filled with chocolate coins. Isn't that great?




PHOENIX! I went to their gig a couple of weeks ago. I enjoyed it thoroughly. I had a ridiculous grin on my face throughout the whole performance.





MEW. I watched them on Tuesday. I cannot even begin to describe how good it was. Celestial vocals, perfect band. I've said this before but I am strangely intrigued by Jonas's fragile stage disposition.


This is by far my favourite and most significant purchase. It's actually my graduation present from my lovely mother. It's a necklace by Ahkah for Kabiri. 14 pretty little diamonds in a row. They sparkle and I smile.

pick me up,please

u know what sucks after 'diet' and 'dead pet'

fucking insecurities. they creep on you when u least expected and u just feel this emotional bomb and cant do anything but let the devil takes over.

oh maybe thats pms.whatever

Happy Halloween

A million different parties in a million different places, mountains of candy, barrels and barrels of intoxication, an array of different costumes, lit jack o laterns, black and orange...and nothing particularly spooky.

Last year hat and I carved our first pumpkin. It had a crown, it had a name (which I can't recall at all). We placed a scented candle in it because we couldn't find any other candles. Vanilla, I think. This is what it looked like:



We had never attended (or wait, 'been invited to' is probably more accurate) a Halloween party but a couple of hats friends came over to strategically located Flat 5 for a couple of convenient drinks before they headed out. One was dressed as an angel, the other a devil. Hat and I decided to tag along and therefore had to assemble ourselves into relatively 'frightening' characters in approximately 10 minutes. Hat wore this amazing dress (Anna Sui!) and went as a gothic bride, and I went as the eeriest creature in the entertainment industry, Winehouse. The devil used my eyeliner and lipliner to draw and colour in the tattoos, which turned out quite impressive (with, of course, an overtone of hilarity). I think we had a good night out.

Tonight, however, I will stay at home with my scary law books.. lanternless, constumeless, candyless. I can't say with certainty that I mind though. Happy Halloween to the rest of yous anyway.


Ignore the video, enjoy the song.

Private Grandeur

I listen to this a lot when I am on my own. It makes the world seem so negligible by coaxing my self-consciousness into (fleeting) Fuck You confidence. Enjoy.

wow, this version is really quite insulting. it does no justice to what i just wrote. i can't find the album version. sorry.

Boys, etc

I think I’m obliquely self-obsessed. I’m uncomfortably fond of a boy who I think, in a lot of ways, is a lot like me. Loyalty is another problem -I need to get better at forgetting antiquated, tarnished crushes. This crush went sour a long time ago but I guess it wasn’t enough to shake me. So for now, I’ll just sit by my delusional self, and envisage kissing in the rain with My Bloody Valentine playing in the background, feeling absolutely infinite. And there it is, my biggest problem – being disturbingly, pathetically delusional.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year that Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.

time to forget about it

to forget about work, that is.
because
consolidation week is here!(crowd goes wild)

it's Friday today and in the spirit of my non-existent social life, i will be staying in. but tomorrow night will be different. it will be great. it will be PHOENIX WOLFGANG AMADEUS! the last time i got this excited for a gig it was when hat and i were going to see m83. i'm sure phoenix won't let me down- i don't see how they could.

and on Sunday, i think i will be making my way back to the birthplace of Flat 5- Leamington Spa. i will return with due hesitance. a lot of memories, a lot of faces i'd rather not see. standard. but anyway, i'm going to check out these boys(see video below), who are Leamy homeboys according to a friend of mine (who, for reasons uncertain, i kind of miss).like it matters. they'll be playing at this bar which was a stones throw from Flat 5. it would be good to still be living there. a lot more convenient than a 40 minute train ride and a 20 minute walk. oh well, it should be better than another night alone at home.



have a good weekend, troops.
Xx

i will always love paolo more

ipod was on shuffle mode. and this song came on;



ARGH.

Confession #1

Not the best image, I agree. I adore Freja Beha to tiny uncollectable bits and pieces but bear with me, please.

Due to my pathetic SkyTV subscription, I was forced to watch ‘How To Look Good Naked’ whilst eating dinner. Tuesday night Trash TV at its lowest point. With little else choice, I watched the first ten minutes of the show and began to feel slightly nauseous.

The host of the show said that most women have a distorted body image. I find it hard to reconcile with his submission, seeing how women here (ENGLAND REPRESENTN’!), regardless of shape/size, go out half naked on their nights out about town. The sight: Nasty.

Anyhow, it’s more than a bit worrying to think that most of us mortal females loathe the way we look and I have always been far from ready to accept this as a truth. I guess I never fully appreciated it but, after watching ten minutes of the show, I’m inclined to believe that a lot of us girls have an issue or two with the dreadful mirror. Yes, I am the ultimate sucker.

Hmmm, I’m sure you’re expecting me to take things more personally.I will oblige.
I stand taller than most girls and a lot of people have told me that ‘it’s a good thing’. As much as I’ve tired, I honestly do not see it that way. I’m less than half an inch away from 5’11, which means that wearing heels brings will translate my usual form to that of the BFG. Not pretty. To give you an insight on my ‘great heights’, the least I can say is that most guys are shorter than me and that as the feeble other sex, they would not want to date a girl who towers over them. Boo fucking hoo.

Second, my BMI of 16.5 tells me that I am underweight. Do I believe it? Hell no. Given the choice, if it did not require starving myself to death, my personal ‘ultimate’ BMI would be...(drum roll, please) fourteen point two. Yes, 14.2. No, I am not anorexic. All of my friends will tell you that one of the very few things I’m impeccably talented at is eating more than a girl should. In spite of this baffling tug of war game, I have, at the very least on a personal level, come to realise what the problem is. The girls who stand at my height that I find attractive, are obviously drop dead gorgeous models. It is not great. I am unsure as to when it happened but, somewhere, somehow, I decided that I should morph, in as many ways as possible, into what THEY look like. I have never fully welcomed this conception (perhaps in self-denial) but as ugly as it is, it’s the truth.

On this note, there are a few things that should be pointed out (and I will sigh in relief if some of you agree with me):

1. I think mirrors are a generally a massive let down. Thus, I get a bit nervous when I look into one.

2. When people tell me I’m thin, I honestly think ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’


Based on these two very simple points, the most straightforward conclusion you could draw is
Thinner= happier i.e. end of body image issues

WRONG!


Trust me, girls. Once you’re pretty much as thin as you can get, you will move on to other things to scrutinize. Typically, the most palpable victim will be your face. For me, its the easiest place to target flaws. You compare images of what you think is attractive to that of yourself and think, ‘Fuck, I’ve totally missed the mark.’ I am unsure as to how to reconcile with this, but I have grasped its mechanism- you look at glossy images and yearn to replicate such perfection, such beauty but then the mirror haunts you and you’re left with little else than disgust. Then, if you are anything like me, you will be left with the grand finale of an utterance of an inarticulate ‘Ugh’ under your breath.

No, no, no, I am not suggesting that we stop reading our favourite fashion magazines or, at the other extreme, that we stop eating or go under the knife...instead, I think we (or I, at the very least) need come to terms with what we tend to view as body image ‘shortcomings’. Perfection is overrated. If I ever saw a guy who looked like Depp or Pitt, I probably wouldn’t pay him much attention because I’d think that he is completely devoid of any trace of personality. If I see girls on the street who look too ‘put together’, I don’t bother looking at them. I feel that they’ve succumbed too much, too far, into the whole faux conception of beauty- and it sickens me.

So, what do we do? What do I suggest? Firstly, that you don’t waste your money on therapy..they’ll tell you what you already know. You can talk to a wall and buy an amazing pair of shoes instead. Second, SERIOUSLY learn to love yourself. You must be good at SOMETHING. If you can’t establish what it is, if you have good people around you, or at least ONE good friend you can rely on, you should know that you aren’t doing so badly. Beauty which is met with the eye fades and dies, it’s a fact. I think we need to look a bit deeper to find something more substantial to hold on to before we let our obsession swallow us whole til we are left with absolutely nothing at all.

As it is, I feel that I’ve said too much.I don’t know if this makes any sense at all to you, dear reader, but if it does, kudos.

Xx
scio

The Brightside

In the midst of this miserable month, I have managed to assemble a list of things to look forward to :

1. The Hills tonight at 9 PM
2. Phoenix on the 24th!
3. 24/10/09 - 31/10/09 : Consolidation Week a.k.a. Reading Week, formerly known as One Week Of Danger in Flat 5. Minimal (law related) reading, if any at all, will be done.
4. Paris during Consolidation Week. (there are currently no reasonably priced tickets to Stockholm. boo.)
5. Concluding the end of my two week detoxing period with steak & wine & all things fine.
6. London, soonish.


Life ain't so bad.

Bye Bye Bayou

LCD Soundsystem's cover. It's not amazing but it sounds marginally better than the Church bells that have been ringing incessantly all morning.

Perfection is Dead

Fair haired boys never did strike my fancy and the only exception I am willing to make made his way 6 feet under 54 years ago. Dead and divine, none other than Dean.




















AND FINALLY,

this is one of my favourite pictures in existence.



"Honey, you're up!Did you sleep okay?"


Well, that's the end of this post, I'll let him sleep away.

The A.M.

Good Morning. I dragged myself out of bed at 10 to 6 after managing to ignore the alarm for a respectable 50 minutes. Bright and early? Hardly. Premature mornings are little other than dark and bleak and should, in the course of my classic case of destructive youth, be fallen asleep to and not risen to. Winter’s icy fingers stealthily reach out from December to meddle clumsily with these hours of the morning, making it colder than it ought to be..making me never ever want to leave the warmth of my bed.


Maybe a little tune will help roast the room a bit.




Hmph. Futility. It's a quarter to eight now and I should take a shower now before it gets too late. Brrrr.

:) :)

I never got into the Pains (they tripped and fell on the wrong side of pop) but watching this video again (bar the excessive smiling and skipping) reminded me of the good life in flat 5.

hey ma, ribbbiiitttt

i know this is not new but im having a case of quarter-life crisis. and apparently out of all my peers im the only one having it. my ability to hurt people around me and destroy every chance of 'good' future i have is quite amazing. seriously what happened? why do i think that i deserve much more than what i already have? and if anyone could fake it, why not i? i hate being so passionate about sthing (self-obsession), yet at the same time passionless at everything else (lazy).

with the amount of shits thrown at us this month i wonder, is it the curse of flat5 or r we just running out of luck? so i refer to my trusted feng shui book for any indications of bad luck in october, and true enough. wait. hold up. the bad shit that happened to me occurred in a good month. fucking hell i cant even trust a good month. and this month is volatile where it can either be really good or really bad. heres hoping for a good one and hopefully my sad drawing of 12 fishes and ruby bracelet will restore my good karma and activate my good luck. and if i need to get that jade frog thing for extra luck then so be it! anything for a better month ;/

*****

i re-read the book, and i realized i got few things wrong;
1. 9 goldfishes not 12 random fishies
2. 6 wealth toads water feature and not jade frog thing
3. mantra ring(?) for luck in studies!

no wonder 2009 is beyond shit! now where can i get that toad water feature thing?

-

finally, boxes filled with things i had accumulate in three years there have arrived. most of them are junks which cld explain why i didnt 'need ' any of the items when they were gone. regardless, unpacking the boxes, slowly going through all my stuff, the smell of flat 5, the sound of flat 5, memories of living there, easy life fun life disastrous life. i miss

=(

xx,
sadHAT

Cheer me up, I'm a tireless bore

The world needs more men like Ramesh. If you write like this, you must love like heaven.




(yes, this is ancient but definitely one of my favourite songs of all time)

Is there anything good about October?

No. Even the sun doesn’t want to look it in its face. It hides behind massive clouds of grey, leaving us to shiver in the cold. The rain has also just returned from its summer break and has resumed its mission of tormenting me deeper into misery and frizzing my hair out. October smirks and reminds you constantly that summer is gone and won’t be back for a long, long time.


The next six months will be particularly unkind to me- the weather dictates my mood and boy, do I hate the cold. When winter is at its peak, your face is frozen as soon as you leave home. The face you wear for the rest of the day is that very same face you had on as you stepped out of the airless warmth of electric heating into the unwelcoming, glacial outdoors. Your movement is limited by the umpteen layers you have dressed yourself in, in a vain attempt of trying to outwit the cold. The battle is short and winter wins. And so you stand there, bitter and awkwardly statuesque, wanting to wave your middle finger at this unforgiving weather but you can’t, for you know that even the middle finger loses its impact in winter- wrapped up in a woollen glove, trembling slightly but numb otherwise. Like some sad finger puppet withering into death from its final epileptic fit.


Then, after what seemed to be a pretty long day, you gaze up at the big black canopy that sits where the sky used to be and assume that you’re smack in the dead of the night. No. It is 4 in the evening. So, it’s subzero doom and gloom outside, you’re starving even though you just ate an hour ago, your clothes make you resemble the Michelin man AND your electricity bill is rocketing. Meeting up with friends means braving the cold AGAIN. Plus, hanging out this(that?) time of year is almost always disappointing because everyone is sullen-struck by winter and all anyone ever talks about is how cold it is. So you sit at home all alone, dehydrated from the heating, wallowing in your misery, allowing your morose to grow and all you can actually think of is how much you fucking hate winter.




As usual, this post was another totally pointless complain. Have a nice day.

Re: THE BITCH IS BACK

only a few days til SEASON 5 of the hills premieres here. i can summarise pretty much everything we know so far about season five in one word : GNARLY (thanks stephanie plastic pratt). just think about it:


1. LC is gone. Remember Season 4 of the OC? It couldn't survive without Marissa Cooper. I foresee the same fate for the hills.

2. the ultimate rube with money, Kristen Cavallari(or whatever her name is) is going to be 'replacing' LC. fuck that. no one will ever be able to fit LC's sweet shoes. i never liked kristen. she reminds me of the type of girl that works in the greasiest fast food joint imaginable but thinks she's the queen of the fucking world, serving your fries with a free supersized portion of RUDE.

3. Audreamy's hair is lighter. She looks too glamorous. it makes me sick. audrina is no barbie! she's supposed to be the princess of the black rebel motorcycle club. with dark hair.

4. Kristen is annoying

5. Kristen is fucking annoying

6. She should really stay the fuck away from Justin Bobby. Don't be messing with Audreamy's property.

I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour...

Wrote this last week, right after Hat left. Because I tend to get sappy like that..well, like this:

Often it is the presence of people that makes you realise how much of a difference they made in your life, how much you have missed them and how much you will miss them when they leave.

Hat was here yesterday and now she is gone. Understandably, my apartment is brimful of sadness. Although we didn’t do much at all during our time together here, memories that would be thrown into the ‘Insignificant’ pile by most mentally coherent people are cherished colossally by emotionally feeble sciolizm. When I say we did nothing, I mean we did absolutely nothing that qualifies as anything even remotely worth mentioning. It was like a typical night at Flat 5, the impenetrable bubble that protected us from the big bad world was recreated. Déjà Vu with an altered milieu. I wish we were still living in Flat 5. When she left, I realised this all over again, on a whole different level. This is real. That phase is over and it will never come back. It fucking sucks.

---

You see, I could go on for ages but I realise that this is wholly unnecessary as I'm sure you get the point. Maladjustment. Mehhhhh.

nasal

The Hills - Lauren + Kristin







= rotten to the core.

i woke up late in the evening

the most fitting tune for me today;



i wish i wasnt so lazy these days.

anyway, reunion was awesome. we only get to spend in total 2 and half days together. which is kinda sad but FANTASTIC nonetheless. we spent our days window shopping, planning what to buy and what to return and in the evening writing a joint post only to delete them the next day because it was inappropriate . LOL.

i also wish i have an interesting life.

heres to another reunion in three months! CHEEEEEEEERRRRSSSSSS

To Better Nights

long gone are these nights:



sad face.

This Sweats Glitter

My lack of internet has arrested my ability to put you to sleep with my thoughts on music. I must thank Cox for sharing this with me. So here it is- another boring music post!



The taster we heard a couple of months ago did not equip me for this. Especially not today.


This song fucked me up. I was in a really shitty mood and then this starts playing and suddenly i see multiple rainbows flashing, one coloured arch at a time, at a relatively high speed from every corner of my mind(mind you, there are a lot of corners in my mind). Then came the beaming fairies twirling around in delight. And they’ve got those gymnastic ribbons, with which they make their own hypnotic rainbows. I’m just sat here thinking ‘What the fuck is going on? It sounds like gay electricity from the 80s.'


This voice clearly got lost on its way home, ran into a mountain of crack and smoked that mountain flat. Then The Similou came, took advantage of its smashed, submissive state and raped it. 9 months later, this song (and the whole album, I suspect) was born. The awkward love child who just happened to be born at the right time- a time where awkwardness is revered. I swear Jules would have been beaten up and possibly stabbed if he tried to pull this shit in 2001.


That being said, I can’t stop listening to it. Casablancas possesses strange, spellbinding powers..over me at least. Fuck you, Casablancas. I really wanted to stop believing in you.

Love,
Schizolizm

typical

A lot of girls like their men to be buff and dashing. Buff and dashing sounds repulsive to me. My mind has somehow made an automatic connection between buff and physically abusive and spits a lot. Dashing, on the other hand, brings to mind two images : Brylcreem and blonde. All very, very wrong in my books.

If my ideal man was a piece of paper, he'd be scrunched up and burnt around the edges. In human form, for the time being, he is Devendra Banhart.



Though I hate men in bowties because it makes them look like they're trying (and tying) too hard to be kooky, I am willing to make a sole exception for him.





Of course he looks like a complete asshole. But a divine, spiritual one nonetheless.





Be swooned.




And after the Thanksgiving play we can all sit around and have a sexy cup of tea.

For Clothes or Bills?

I MAINTAIN THAT THIS IS NOT A FASHIONISTA POST.

Right after learning about bail applications, I rushed off to the nearest Topshop store to get my hands on the Christopher Kane for Topshop line. (Note that Hat beat me to this). I ended up spending way too much on things I'm not even sure I like. Well, I have the option of returning them if (in the next 28 days) I realise that I have little sentiment for them other than hate.

What I should have been doing with my time is preparing for my next Civil Unit One session which starts in 1 hour and 10 minutes. Instead, I sit in my living room, feeling guilty about my reckless use of sterling, whilst eating a bagel.

What I should have done with the money is pay my bills. They are looking at me from the corner of the table, half nervous, half disappointed.

The clothes, sitting uncomfortably in the paper bag are humming 'Should I stay or Should I go?'.

Decisions, decisions.

Bad News

I don't have much time to write so take this as one of those news bulletins that drags itself from right to left on your TV screen when you're watching your favourite reality tv show, or whatever it is you watch. You ignore it most of the time unless it includes the word 'sex' or 'bomb' or 'Michael Jackson'. What I'm going to say involves none of the three, combined or treated in isolation. The bad news is that :

1. Flat 5 did not reunite today. This is the worst news this month. Sciolizm could not go to Manchester because her course does not permit her to have friends, old or new.

2. London Fashion Weekend is coming up and people (girls, typically) are getting more annoying. Girls who make every single person who has ever been featured as a 'Vice Don't' look good are getting excited, and getting vocal about their excitement. Don't forget to drop names of designers/labels when you're talking about the only thing you talk about (fashion, of course). You're on the right track, you fashionable fashionista! Wear those fucking faded pink tights with that sweater that rests above your massive behind. It really brings out the pork in you. Adidas.

3. Vampire Weekend have announced their second album.


End of news bulletin.

One last thing, this has got to be one of the worst songs of the year( if not of all time). I still haven't fully decided which I hate more though, the song or the video. Please, don't enjoy:

theres a new obnoxious girl in (blog)town

not me. someone else.

less than a week until flat5*beep*house reunion! stay tuned(*)!

till then im gona indulge myself with more kdramas,guitar heroes and nothingness. its good for the soul but bad for the brain!

ineed$$,
hat

a new beginning - part 1?

Here I am, in my brand new apartment. Away from home, just like I wanted to be. Jolted out from bed by jetlag probably 4 hours too early to detect life neighbouring, I decided to make another list of things to do today to save me from being swallowed whole by the emptiness that surrounds me. This exact same scenario happened yesterday, where I deliberately drained myself of every trace of energy to salvage myself from lying wide awake in bed with my new found best friend, lonesome, with absolutely nothing to do but think about and in that, amplify my suppressed desolation. Seeing how not much is terrific, I suppose it’s a pretty good strategy living with the motto ‘Ignorance Is Bliss’, but when I am reminded of things that I miss the most, realising that everything and everyone is so unreachable, I feel a twinge of pain. I think it is the worst sort of pain – the agony of acute longing.


Another thing I’ve realised is that being in the heart of such a busy city only makes you realise how alone you are. You see people shuffling by in twos, threes, fours. Even the sporadic unaccompanied have designated company to return to eventually. Well, almost everyone. There are a few exceptions of course. Like the street preachers, shouting out their sermons on faith, or the fraud that is faith. Wide eyed, they yell to space with such great conviction- they must be crazy and so completely alone. Like my wheelchaired neighbour who loiters in the lobby, like a starving eagle desperate for its prey, he waits for conversation with anyone at all. And when he’s waited around for too long, I hear him wheeling back into his empty apartment. It makes me a bit sad but I think I kind of half know how he feels. It’s not great. It’s a curious thing, how the presence of people can be just the thing that makes you feel most isolated. But yes, I complain too much, too often.
So I’m just going to end this post here before it gets too pathetically sappy.

I will say one last thing before I go though.. I really wish the three people (yes, there are three, hat is skipping in the background) in the picture below were here with me. That would be supersweeeet.

(my attempt at identity protection. canceled out their eyes. how original!)