nuance

Sometimes I think memories, often bad ones, should never be recorded. And then I wait for things to become good again so that I might be able to share it, but then I cannot warrant myself enough enthusiasm to even speak or talk or appear.

It is always nice to arrive home, after going away for a long time. I was in Singapore for the weekend, and I was terrified and in awe and a bag of emotions when I returned.

There’s this sense of uniformity when one arrives in Singapore; that everything is too well planned that it becomes boring. Houses are marked by blocks and numbers, east and west, differ only in colors but not in design. I am perhaps more terrified by the lack of personal space in the city. As if one cannot act out any differently lest the cameras shall catch you. At the elevator alone of a normal residential area where we stayed there were 4 cameras, several do not signs, and any ads were either about community services or messages. A person is a citizen, a functioning unit of society, and all paths shall be laid out to him like carefully thought-of branches that the only thing to do is to follow.

 

Anyway, no postcards this time as I did not have the time to do so.

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That quote by Rimbaud, strangely I read the day before your letter came, and it made me all teared up for some reason.

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This year, the thing to do is to tread slowly, and grow silently. No matter what has happened in the past, it is not a cause for immaturity in the future. I tell myself to not take offend on the immaturity of others, but it will always hurt to be perceived badly, no matter what. I look on, by the sidelines, and move on.

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I want so many things, but dare not to speak my desires

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RS’s Brazil –

F questions whether this is a normal thing that Fixi does or just particular to the author. I said, it would never be published if it was not him. Sometimes I wonder if one can just write a novel out of a series of actions and details – A does this then B and took 2 spoonfuls of X into his mouth and proceeded to take line Z to station number 3 in order to purchase G. Repeat for 150 pages and then sprinkle with your analysis on sastera-ha. Well, it is now answered in this novel. From the moment it becomes somewhat interesting then mundane to the point of why bother. I suppose he does this from a very objective perspective – to record merely what has happened, but nothing more – for any interpretation comes from the reader, not the one who writes – If the characters speak he speaks to another person, not to the reader, not to himself.  Only on the things that has passed does subjectivity occur – my memory of my father, my dialogues (churned in the mind – only left to be told).

I am tired anyhow of the experimental.