Blog is dead.

Note: If you’re just a casual reader of this blog, save yourself the trouble and scroll down to the bottom, where the important stuff is. Cheers.

This post is nearly four days overdue, but Happy New Year everyone. Let’s hope it’s  a good one without any fear.

Have you ever had the feeling somedays where you’re playing keepie-uppies with the whole world on your feet and you’re trying to keep it all up in the air, and you somehow get the feeling that you’re gonna drop the ball soon and you panick and bounce it extra hard to keep it in the air; and ironically its always that final desperate touch that loses you the ball and your whole world?

It fucking feels like a million things are pulling me apart at the same time, and I’m not man enough to justify myself to all those things and people that need me. I’m starting to feel like Jon Foreman’s opening line for Revenge all over again. 

There all so many people I should be accountable to right now but it seems as if everything is fucking up one after another, and I’m pulling all the stops and burning them out in an attempt to give everybody what they need, but somehow at the end of the day I fail everyone yet again.

I want to win. I want to get through the day without the feeling that I’m failing everyone. I want to light up something in all those people who mean something to me, but I can’t shake off this thought that I’m a bitter disappointment.

I wrestled the angel for more than a name, but now it seems as if I have nothing but.

Recent conversations have led me thinking about the events that wrenched me from and led me back to unfamiliar arms, and I can’t say I’m complete.

This blog is close to being abandoned, I think. I see no reason why people would want to come here and read about my need for Prozac.

Anyway.

AMR will be doing a series of acoustic sets for the DMSM Open House on the 8th and 10th of January, which will include covers, originals, and guest performers. Please do come down to support us and also take the chance to check out DMSM’s diploma offerings.

We’ll also be performing a live song on the 9th of January around nighttime, 8pm for the finals of NYP’s Got Talent. It will be an original song that we’re playing, and we’re dedicating it to the victims of the Mumbai terror attacks. So do please come down and support us, we promise an Awesome-on-a-Thomson-level show! 

Yeah, so what if my filming for IP is so screwed its not even funny?

I’m not gonna bend, I’m not gonna break.

Yeah, so what if every single step of the way, Murphy insists on enforcing his law?

I’m not gonna bend, I’m not gonna break.

I don’t believe that I won’t make it out of this polytechnic without my diploma on the list, even if I have to take a job to see me through.

I’m not gonna bend, I’m not gonna break.

I don’t believe that this is the way it will wind down.I might be hard pressed on every side but I won’t be crushed. I might be perplexed but I’m not in despair. I might be persecuted, but I’m not abandoned, struck down, but not destroyed.

Because I know my God is mighty to save, and when He has my back I can stare the fuckin’ world down.

so I’m not gonna bend, I’m not gonna break. 

Happy Christmas and a merry new year to all. May all your Christmases be of good cheer!

It’s funny how a simple call can screw up your day and undermine your confidence in something so easily.

I think today was when my optimism about this officially took a severe beating, but I’m determined to see this through to the end, if only because I believe in it.

It’s  days like these, when I’m up till 2am in the City of Angels and I can’t sleep tonight because of IP when every other DMSM student is celebrating their holidays and you’re still with me that I really appreciate you. Thank you, and I love you. More than I’ve tried to say in recent times, but I do.

Came across this awesome video of Jay-Z at Glastonbury on Youtube, and found it too delicious to resist. He starts off playing Wonderwall before breaking into “99 Problems” with the Back in Black riff under the verses like the band usually does. 

I think this video exemplifies just why rappers shouldn’t try to sing, but the bit where Jay-Z breaks into “99 Problems” is just wicked. And the entire crowd reaction to the Wonderwall riff will probably go down as a great Glastonbury moment, heheh.

In other news, AMR did our auditions for the NYP Open Huse today playing Isaac’s original ,2AM, and  it went pretty well. I’m not gonna say anymore in case I jinx the result, but what I will say is that we’ll be playing several acoustic gigs at the DMSM booth at OH  over the 3 days, which will hopefully include a few originals that up till now have yet to see the light of day.

Alright, now back to IP.

Am too disjointed today to write a decent blog post, so I’ll be blogging in points.

1. I need more hip-hop on my handphone’s playlist.

2. U2’s released an AWESOME cover of Greg Lake’s I Believe In Father Christmas. Bono does something really clever with the lyric there, if you know the original song. The power of prepositions, kids.

3. In a blaze of surreal ironic counterantiestablishmentism, Eminem’s Lose Yourself is my new studying anthem. Now, watch me rip through these notes like motherfuckin’ two dogs caged.

4. You know it can only be God when you get this happy listening to Extreme at 2:36am in the morning. Either Him, or 5 cups of coffee. 

5. I need a freakin’ name for the Cassie/Nadia film, dammit!

6. Don’t get me wrong, I’m as much a rock n’ roll fan as anyone, but I’d take good music of any kind over bad rock anytime. I mean, would you rather take people like Wu Tang Clan, John Coltrane, Billie Holiday and Aretha Franklin, or a boring rockist caricature like um, Nickelback? No contest really. 

7. Chong’s ICA is in 9 hours, omg.

Came onto this blog with the intention of posting something deeply confessional, carthatic and healing, but apparently, that magical Hollywood moment of healing through writing just isn’t working for me. It feels like spiritual constipation, that’s what it feels like.

(My apologies to James Ang, if he’s reading, who happens to be, as he likes to remind us always, a visual person. Lol.)

I don’t really know what to say at this point in time anymore. I’ve posted so many times about you, in rage, in anger, in sorrow, in brokenness, in bitter resentment, in faith, in hope, and I think at the end of the day the joke is on me because for all my words and poetry and lyricism what can I do? What have I done? I face the evidence of your irresponsibility and failure and I can’t help but weep at the tears you sow and the blood you reap.

And where are we now, after all has been said, every book has been read, every prayer read and every deed has been done? We’re further off from home than when you started, and I despair of one day ever seeing the man I knew(or thought I knew again).

It fucking sucks to hold a secret that you can’t breathe a word about, not because you’re forbidden to, but because the weight of your own tongue and the heaviness of your own heart keep you in bondage.

Love is drowning in a deep well, all the secrets and no one to tell. And our love for you is blind, but your pride and your anger keeps you blind. And I wonder how long before the fingers slip and the threads rip.