what a mindfuckingly good movie. thanks nindy for introducing us to it!
but now that I’ve mostly got over the shock of it, it makes me wish in some way I was Edward Norton’s character.
(I suppose I should hope I don’t actually become someone like him in ten years.)
I think the most interesting thing that happened to me in the past two-and-a-half weeks is that I basically got boob flashed.
happened last wednesday when I was on my weekly jog. I noticed a lady standing beside a car as I went past; I made my halfway-mark u-turn not long after that and was going to pass by her again when she stopped me with a pitiful look and outstretched hands. she asked if I lived nearby – I thought she needed directions, so I said I lived up the road (this is true – just that it was actually a 10-minute run up the road) and could I help you with getting somewhere? then in a long spiel that I guessed was rehearsed, she talked about how she hadn’t had food in a few days, and her children as well, and some other unfortunate things that I couldn’t catch, and she just needed to come in for a little bit, and she had no milk to give her baby, and then without a flinch she pulled down the left side of her top and squeezed the breast to prove the point. finally she finished and I said, I’m sorry, but I don’t live that nearby. her expression changed completely, and she said, you said you lived just up the road!, and then stalked away (she had pulled her top back up by this time of course).
I wasn’t quite sure whether to feel shocked or amused or sobered or sorry for/to her after that.
in other news, school is okay.
I am trying to make this term an approach to the literature I’ve always wanted to read but never did. so far I’ve finished Hemingway’s A Farewell To Arms (a revelation, if I may be pretentious enough to say so), Virginia Woolf’s To The Lighthouse (lovely writing in some bits, but generally a bit too much for my taste) and I’m halfway through Fitzgerald’s short stories (some amazing writing a la Gatsby in there). Heart of Darkness and Dubliners are sitting on my bedside table waiting. any other recommendations?
oh, 新年快乐, 恭喜发财, 万事如意, 年年有余, 步步高升, 身体健康, 考好成绩, 红包多多, etc!
the worst part about coming back home is having to leave again. more specifically, the feeling of having to leave. I’ll be perfectly fine (I suppose) once I get back to london and have to fend for myself again, but this pre-departure melancholy is just not very enjoyable.
it’s been a good 3 weeks, of course. it’s a pity I spent a fair bit of my first week back almost missing london. now that seems like a long, long time ago.
till June then.
listening to Death Cab’s “The New Year” (source for this post’s title) every Jan 1 is becoming a sort of yearly ritual.
as is re-reading all my blog posts from the previous year, which, for the first time in quite a few years, I managed to do immediately after midnight.
two things sprang to my mind after typing the previous sentence. the first, rather less relevant one relates to Communication, Psychology, Experience. as part of my research for the essay I wrote for that module I read about therapeutics, which is that culture of psychological self-help that pervades our modern existences in neoliberal societies (N.B. I sound like I know more than I really do here and in the bit that follows). forms of writing, especially diaristic practices e.g. blogging, can be seen as a form of confession, in which the writer ‘writes’ himself as a subject to be known and understood by himself and other readers. such practices contribute to forming an identity inextricably linked with psychological concepts: growth, emotional maturity, etc.
ok, /end academic pretensions. nonetheless, I’ve done some really interesting theory stuff this year, especially with Cultural Studies in the Spring and both the psychology- and sociology-related courses in the Autumn. I don’t think I can say such things with any real certainty, but I would venture that my perspectives have widened. it is a real blessing to be able to learn all this stuff - it’s been good enough that postgrad studies seems like a possible option in the future. photography and script & prose (particularly people’s very gratifying comments) have been great too, and I hope practice continues to surprise and prove fruitful even if it gets frustrating.
the second thing related to re-reading all my 2011 blog posts is the fact that I read them immediately after midnight. new year’s eve this time was a very small affair, and the people who came didn’t stay for the countdown as they had other plans. I was in the shower at the stroke of midnight actually, and it felt a little strange – sad? – to come out and see the fireworks and the flares from the ships, but the house all silent and my family already asleep. I admit I still feel a little pathetic about being removed from all the celebration, being alone. can’t be helped I suppose. since turning 21, the sense of people having other commitments and other people to be with has only got stronger. to be honest, I haven’t come to terms with that yet. I have a feeling I won’t till I get myself a girlfriend, if that ever happens (and even if it does…). in a way it makes me feel more determined to settle into myself. still, I’m very glad for my circle of friends, you all know who you are.
it’s been an eye-opening year in other ways. visited Belgium, Turkey, Israel, Paris, Venice, Rome, Munich, Copenhagen, Oxford, Bath, Windsor, Stratford-upon-Avon, etc… pretty amazing thinking back on it now. had a great holiday with great company in Bintan. voted for the first time in my life and laid a foundation for my view of politics (?). found and moved into a house (again, with great company). became an uncle. played far too many games of Saboteur. had the best summer of my life, probably.
there’s a lot to be grateful for. I realise that more and more every year. so here’s to 2012.
