Gesamtkunstwerk

my left asscheek.

so... i aspire to to reinvent wang sha & ye feng. in audio. i did some podcast research and discussed my far-flung intentions with spreadout. and i think it's kudos to me as they seem to be grudgingly mailing again, with some substantial thought this time round as opposed to the one-liners - regarding audience, wow factors, costs and profits etc. 6 replies from 3 people so far, hope i'm not speaking too soon... c'mon guys we can do better =p

i have been tetrineting and trashing ass in the process. i have also dug up old school newsletters, which somehow, have made it 5 years and 6000km together with me. which somehow didn't need to be dug up at all, they were right up on the shelf, not buried in the 4 boxes of books packed and ready to be shipped home. spent the best part of last night ruminating on them - not the stories printed on the crappily laid-out pages... but the ones behind them. the Lessons.

how mrs shanta's flippant gossip gave me glimpses into staff room politics. office politics! something my form5 mind simply could not grasp [[ #1: pr, and how society is vicious ]]. how mrs jessy's incensed speech made me see our ignorant errors [[ #2: an extension of pr, "if u've nothing good to say, don't say it" ]]. how mr chin laughed off the matter that his name didn't appear where it should - i deeply respect him [[ #3: don't sweat the ephemeral stuff ]] - and how mr kao (apparently) could not stand the same issue [[ #4: ignore these bastards ]]. and although irrelevant, how in love i was with ms kamala... and still am, i guess.

first day of meetings, i was nominated along with a few others, kicked out of the class and 2 minutes later, was president/editor by vote. on that day i mentally screamed fuck u fucking fuckers! in all honest earnesty, i swear, there was no glam in being president of this particular club. but today, to the publicity club 2001, wherever u are now, i say thank u very much suckers, becoz i learnt these lessons and u didn't.

anyway! besides podcasts and tetrinet and nostalgia, besides staring at my empty blog, and besides sitting lopsided for the past few days... i decided to start writing. well first, to finish writing this:


i trammed home this evening
and saw a rarified sight:
a woman, she was reading
a spellbook of Delight

neither pictures neither words,
the sentences of spell
scored the page relentlessly,
complicated as hell

i looked upon the arcane script
from over her shoulder,
and smiled unto myself at this
one irony and wonder

for the power of this magic is
unlocked as the books dictate,
so the noble sorceror must
only be quite literate

and the wonder of this Delight is
ebony, ivory entombed,
and its charms are woven forth
from giant golden looms

by how she pored, on and on
without her apparatus,
i could only deduce that
she was an expert magus:

able to conjure allure
and ebony, ivory mime,
all happening right in her head,
the harmony sublime

when suddenly she shut the book,
done with her private fun,
and i saw the author's name,
bold and black: Chopin.