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To have an opinion

18 Jan

I’ve written and deleted many posts over the past few months and wondered at my inability to generate anything interesting. After some reflection, I realised my problem was that I didn’t have any opinions to call my own.

Thanks to the abundance of reviews, forums, comments and the like, I’m finding it very difficult to believe in my own originality. Of course, it is rare for a person to have completely original ideas, but in the past, you could at least half-believe that you were alone in thinking something. Such comforting self-deception is no longer viable today. It is starting to feel as if everything to be said about something already has been said, with varying degrees of eloquence and it’s hardly difficult to find.

After realising that, rather than be paralysed, I decided to be free. Yes, there may be innumerable others with the same thoughts and feelings that I have, but this blog is my own space for me to express my own thoughts as best as I can – or choose to. It’s not how my future posts will be but it’s a start.

For my first opinion to kick things off, The Lizzie Bennet Diaries is an endearing and fun adaptation of Pride and Prejudice that has been modernised but remains true to its roots. The vlog format is fresh and entertaining, the cast are perfect for their roles and the use of social media (tumblr. & Twitter especially) is innovative and this is the only version of Lydia that I actually like or can sympathise with.  If you have ever kinda liked the book or any of the other adaptations (delectable Colin Firth in the BBC1995!), I would definitely recommend it!

(Click start from the beginning after you hit the link above. And be prepared to lose many MANY hours of your life :X)

You only need to watch Lizzie’s videos, but the experiences is greatly enhanced by all the other social media (Lydia’s videos, Maria’s videos and again, I say, TWITTER AND TUMBLR!)

the LBD

Photoset of cast (missing Allison Paige), by the Meryton.

“insensitivity to the point of cruelty”

15 Nov

I’m currently reflecting on the aptness of the above phrase as an accurate self description at times.

There is a certain callousness in my makeup that I’m not proud of.


Aside from that, I’ve been hit by this wave of nostalgia which involves this wanting to know about how various people who had once played some role in my life are.

Facebook is an awesome stalking tool ;D


motivations. why we do things.

15 Nov

In (social) Psych, I learnt** that often, we are motivated to act if something contributes towards one of our future goals or hinders us from achieving it.


I wonder if I was working towards one of my so-called goals or preventing something from hindering it when I did what I did today.

** Perhaps I shouldn’t say learnt per se, more of had it put to me in a deliberate and concise way that I had never bothered to sort out in my head before

the line between apathy and smothering

7 Oct

There is a certain helpless ache as you watch a shaky structure that you knew wouldn’t be able to stand through much more bad weather come crashing down around someone’s head.

Too late. Shoulda coulda woulda.

There is usually no pleasure in the “I knew it”s or the “I told you so”s. But I wish I could be justified in saying “I told you so” because that would have meant that I did say something. Anything.
I know, maybe, nothing would have changed. But now I’ll never know if something could have.

once in a while…

12 Sep

…a turn of a phrase, an image, a melody..

Once in a while something just catches me up in its beauty and it hurts..not in a bad way, but the closest feeling I can describe it as is pain…

The stillness that descends, the inability for a while to breath properly..

The closest I can come to describing it has already been written before far better than I ever could put it..

“It’s so beautiful that it hurts me,” said Anne softly. “Perfect things like that always did hurt me- I remember I called it ‘the queer ache’ when I was a child. What is the reason that pain like this seems inseparable from perfection? Is it the pain of finality- when we realise that there can be nothing beyond but retrogression?”

“Perhaps,” said Owen dreamily, “it is the prisoned infinite in us calling out to its kindred infinite as expressed in that visible perfection.”

-taken from ‘Anne’s House of Dreams’ by L.M. Montgomery

Chara’s quiet song, ‘Kataomoi'[unrequited love] set it off today..
Sometimes it’s so frustrating how limited the English language is 😦

sometimes as you’re rushing around…

31 Mar

…getting on with what you need to do, a memory of a quieter time that rises up unexpectedly is like a clear thread of peace amidst the tangles of life.

Thank you for making me stop and watch that rainy day (:  .


29 Oct

I was just randomly going over conversations in my mind today(as I normally do – so that I can cringe over the stuff I’ve said which happens a lot or think about stuff talked about etc etc)…and as I often do, I like to refer to my old journal(s) just to see what exactly did I feel at that time… and today, suddenly, I find…

There was a huge gap in my journal entries – huge as in from 10/1/2005(Monday) to 15/1/2006(Tuesday).
Where was my entire life in that one year?

Because I didn’t write it down, so much was lost.
Why then do I remember it as one of the happiest years of my life?(2005 that is)

I mean bad things happened too, but…

Why has that year been painted in rose and gold in my memory?

Why is there that huge gap in my journalling?

When I try to remember…

I think of Sash sitting next to me during BM Set 1 which we originally hated because we thought the teacher has something against us.

I think of Joonie and Gay HengJoseph, and how I would always get up in between classes to go disturb them (haha).

I think of Ben and the two Aarons sitting behind me cracking random jokes and up to their usual things…

I think of times spent in the lecture theatre or chapel area with the rest of the CF committee, laughing and talking nonsense but also growing together in God (and also of the minutes I had to write week after week after week).

I think of Raish and the times we were giggling over the randomest things that we could barely talk(and also of the songs we used to sing together ^^).

I think about See Ki running around and Jia Chyi stoically sitting beside her, brimming full with her unique sense of humour.

I think of quiet hours I spent in the library arranging or wrapping books with no one else nearby, missing having the older librarians around to talk to (though sometimes I would be drawn in for a chat with Mdm Zubaidah and/or Mrs Peter and/or Mdm Shirley).

I think of Manda. And what I should have done.

I think of En. I think of Gymramma. And … =(

…Is that all I have left from that year?
What were the milestones? What were the triumphs? What were the failures?

Wasn’t that the year I finally got over one ghost of my past, at last able to prove something to myself?

…Oops. I just got a whisper that I think I ought to heed.
Actually I definitely should heed.

Let it go.


Peter Galen Massey

Haiku, Book Reviews, Commentary & The Occasional Nonsense


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