Hieronymus Bosch

This is one of my favourite classical painters: Hieronymus Bosch, who is Dutch. Among all his fantabulous paintings, my favourite would undoubtedly be The Garden of Earthly Delights. I mean, come on, even the name is totally my style.

Umm, it's really blur here because it's a really, really big painting. It's divine, I tell you. It's... enlightening. The first time I looked at it, I felt as if someone just tipped all the knowledge in the world into my head and my head's just swelling to the point of bursting. (You know, like in Indiana Jones?) I felt a spiritual awakening when I looked at this painting. It's not Christian, Catholic, Buddhism, Islamic or any religion known to the world. It's just... celestial. Here's the link to a bigger painting.

Ming says that this painting is creepy. I don't really see why, apart from it being too godly to be produced by human hands. God, I love this phrase: not by human hands. People used to describe what Armand drew as "not by human hands" too. Anyway, back to Hieronymus Bosch. I know that it's different from the usual paintings by classical artists I love, you know, Raphael, Botticelli, Leonardo da Vinci... But for some unfathomable reason, I find myself obsessed with this painting.

He has other works too but I love this the most. =)

The Temptation of St. Anthony

The Last Judgement

Visions of the Hereafter

Well, alright, I love Visions of the Hereafter too. 

Happy 17th Birthday, Love

It was my birthday yesterday and I'm officially seventeen now. Imagine, seventeen! I've dreamt about this before, way back when I was maybe eight? I thought that I'd be so grown up, so sophisticated. I thought that I would be one of those super cool graduates, you know, fun yet hardworking and stuff.

Never have I thought that I would be like I am today. Sinking deeper and deeper into the proverbial merde. Here I am, lazing away while my future looms ahead, portent and foggy. That's the word - foggy. I haven't the foggiest idea what's going to happen. I still feel as small I as felt ten, fifteen, seventeen years ago. 


But enough of all that emo shit. What I really want to say is thank you all. Thank you to all Facebook friends who greeted me. Thank you to all my friends who endured me for all these years. Thank you, everyone who touched my life, even for the briefest of seconds. And thank you, thank you, for the lovely pressies. I solemnly swear to cherish them for all my life. *guides' honour*


And most importantly, thank you to all those closest and dearest to me. I know that I used to (and will probably still) hurt you most. You watched me break down, you endured my occasional mood swings, you excused my crazy PMS behaviour, you know all my weaknesses and love me through it all. You guys rock my world and I hope I rocked yours too.


I know that I can't end my seventeenth birthday post without making any promises so here goes: I promise myself that I will study harder and I will love myself more. I promise my friends that I will try to be less maniacal during my PMS period. I promise my family that I will try to be more patient and well yeah, less PMS-bitch with them.   I promise that I will try to keep my promises.


So thank you, God, Yahweh, Buddha, Allah, Zeus, Jove, Brahma, forces of the universe, unknown beings... Thank you for seventeen years of (despite all my complaints) wonderful life. Please continue loving me. =)

A Tribute To Harry Potter

First of all, thank you, J.K. Rowling, who basically built the columns that supported my childhood. Thank you, Harry Potter, for surviving till the end so that I can have the fairy tale ending. Thank you, Snape, for proving me wrong. Thank you, Hollywood, for making it into a movie and not screwing things up (too much).

This is my favourite two sentences in the whole series. Yeah, as in, seven books. 

Thank you, Voldemort, for wanting to kill Harry and making the whole story possible. Thank you for being so evil. I love you and I miss you. 

My second favourite Hogwarts teacher, after Remus Lupin.

Underneath all his tough, evilness, Voldemort is just a sweet, lonely man. 

We've all grown up watching Harry Potter and it's just sad it's ended. I remember waiting for the Hogwarts letter on my 11th birthday till like, 4 am in the morning. 

I love you, J.K. Rowling, forever and always.

What I've Been Doing

Thursday
Watched the final instalment of Harry Potter with Yianthin and Khai. Promised that I will not cry but in the end, my brother said that the guy sitting next to him was snickering at me for crying. Like, what the heck's your problem, man?

The point is, Snape died. That scene when he conjured a doe Patronus made me gag on my own tears. It's pathetic, really. I mean, for God's sake I've read the book for like, 10 times? And here I am, sobbing like I don't know he loved Lily and that he's going to die. Truth be told, I miss Voldemort.

There's something wrong with my tear ducts, seriously.

Friday
Swore that I will wear black for an entire week for the death of my childhood. (Since Harry Potter is at an end.)

Watched My Sister's Keeper again. Cried buckets, again. Okay, I admit that this is a really good movie, Cameron Diaz, but that doesn't mean that I like you. Or you, Alec Baldwin.

I really really like Taylor, Kate's boyfriend though. He's so sweet when he held the pail as Kate vomited into it. And Abigail Breslin was, as usual, superb. Nothing's going to make me read the novel by Jodi Picoult though. I don't know why but I have a personal vendetta against her. For some unfathomable reason.

Saturday
It's one of the loveliest Saturdays I've had in a long, long time. The reason being that I do not need to go to school for extra-curricular activities. =)

I woke up cheerful and smiley-faced until I looked at the mirror. What horror! My eyes are swollen beyond recognition due to crying. Having read somewhere that applying ice would help, I did so and praise the Lord, the swellings subsided. My good mood returned and I studied Biology.

Tuition in the afternoon was not fun at all. I was the only one who went in my row so it was kinda stupid really, sitting alone in an empty row. In fact, it was so lonely that I thought I might start crying again, what with my crazy tear ducts and the current state of my hormones. But I survived it.

Watched Dear John at night. Yes, you may all gasp and wonder how in the world have I not watched it before but it's true - that's the first time. I think it's the chemistry between Channing Tatum and Amanda Seyfried that spurred such strong emotions in me. And of course, my penchant for soldiers is a contributing factor as well. Anyway, I don't need to tell you what happened next.

Sunday

Woke up with swollen eyes again. But now that I have a secret weapon (ice), I don't have to worry anymore. *evil laughs*

Mum bought tickets to watch Transformers 3 with Khai. I decided not to watch since I don't really like Transformers. Too noisy, too much technology, too many robots. So, I made the mistake of following them to Gurney, since I haven't been there in ages.

Was stuck there alone for almost three and a half hours. There are so many people there, today being Sunday. Yet standing in a crowd, I have never felt more alone. Fortunately, I brought my MPH card so I was able to lounge in the sitting room for three hours. I was halfway through The Seventh Sacrament by David Hewson.

Anyway, Mum took us for Sakae Sushi, which satisfied my earlier craving for Japanese food so it wasn't all that bad.


P.S. Looking back on what I did, it looks like little Miss Lazy has been watching movies instead of studying these days. Tsk. I don't know what to do with myself.

I love you the way

Waves love the shore. 

There were times

when I was filled 

to the brim with tender love. I 

Loved you gently and I wanted

You

In my arms.

There were times 

when my love seemed like a 

hurricane: urgent and unrestrainable

I 

Thought of you

All night. 

But if you asked me

Why I loved you,

I would've had no idea

Other than I love you

And I do, I do. 

High Land

I was in Cameron Highlands for the weekend with the BIG family. And while I was there, this poem by Jackie Kay suddenly materialized in my head before I even realize how befitting it is to my current whereabouts.


I don't remember who kissed who first,
who touched who first, who anything to whom.
All I remember in the highland night - 
the sheep loose outside,
the full moon smoking in the sky - 
was that you led me and I led you.
And all of a sudden we were in a small room
in a big house with the light coming in
and your legs open; mine too.
And it was this swirling, twirling thing.
It's hard to fasten it down;
it is hard to remember what was what - 
who was who when the wind was coming in.


~ High Land


P.S. I will update pictures as soon as I get my hands on my cousin's pen drive.

Here And Alone

Are we alone, and here?
And here and alone?

In this room, in
the now.
Do you feel my love?
Pulsating in the air
That we breathe.
My love,
Love,
Is a fever that threatens
To consume us both
Into blackened corpses.


But you are not here,
And I am alone. 
My love is still
A burning furnace,
Only now, 
there is but one corpse
One corpse,
And a blackened heart. 

Craving Tea

I'm so so sorry for the lack of updates lately. I've been a real good girl, doing my homework, going for choir practices and stuff.

So please give me a few more days and I promise I'll update something nice. =)

Anyway, I currently have a craving for afternoon teas. You know -  the authentic English tea complete with scones and earl grey instead of just Milo and biscuits.

Complete English pastries. Love the pot/candle holder.

Tea set. *Envy*

SCONES!!! *salivate*