Life's a Player and All of Us a Mere Stage

Life imitating art imitating life. This concept has been pounded over and over since time memorial and yet there still remains this streak of fascination in the audience at large. So starts my discourse on 'Stage Beauty' which i caught earlier at a preview event thingy. And to pun the title, it was staged rather beautifully.

claire danes and billy crudup at the helm. it's once a self-discovery of the male lead and once a menage a plusieurs of the characters that gives such refined taste and essence to the movie. rupert everett as king is a blast with a finicky sort of humour and a presence that is both imposing and comedically-heavy. he seems to be the fulcrum by which the see-saw of the whole plot rotates since afterall he did affect legislation to the extent that the makeup of the characters revolve around these changes. Claire Danes had this period-beauty that keeps one enchanted throughout the course of the film and is unwavering to the point of being captivating. Her formidable capture of the English accent keeps her credible and her tour de force of acting lands the audience its respect and prolonged interest. it's just that i still can't see how her character of 'Mrs. Margaret Hughes' can be so indulged in kynaston, who is so sexually confused and psychologically screwed-up that when asked who he really is in the end, he slaughters the climax by saying 'i don't know'. twice, no less. Billy Crudup has this clash of ego and insecurity in his acting that i adore. His obsession of being a woman, whom he thinks does all things beautiful (what a crime to think that), does not sit well with a lot of ultra right wing-sexual purists, but his inner turmoil of being compelled to rediscover who he is, is truly applauble and to a certain extent heart-wrenchingly deserving of our sympathy. 'What is life without beauty' rang in my head for a long time after he said it in the film and i guess that's probably one of his downfall, thinking how exhausting it can be, always looking for beauty in life where there's so much ugliness around and that one must encompass or at least recognise this sense of shantiness to realise that beauty does not come easy and relativity makes this aphorisitc pill all the more harder to swallow. and i would have thought that if he tried to recreate this mirage of beauty always or attempts to see beauty in all the things that he does, he could be doubly disappointed when (literally) the ugly head of reality starts rearing its head and refuses to retract itself. rather, over-optimism could be the bitch of life.

one more noteworthy point was i can't quite recall when was the last time i was literally holding my breath in utter anticipation in a movie. it was almost as real an experience as watching the actual Othello right in front of me, as a real theatrical play. it was the death scene and Desdemona was to be suffocated by Iago and it was almost like Iago (Crudup) had simultaneously taken away the breaths of the audience and Desdemona. the theatrics of it was so convincing that it's amazing to watch. and i had to remind myself to breathe again when the resolution finally reveals itself to be otherwise, that Claire Danes remains alive. that was one hell of a movie-moment.

drama aside, today's equity tutorial was much better. much less suffocating than the less, resulting in the much-bleak post. maybe preparedness if the only key to locking the insecurity beast deep in the dungeons of academia-uncertainty. and then again, the culmination of this semester is coming up and i had persist in this preparedness spirit and drive on, light speed ahead.

but all in all, for a film this good, it can, ironically, hardly be only mere theatrics.

The Unculpable Murder of Ego

so it's proven: that academia can be that unculpable murder of ego and self-faith. the slaughterhouse of the seminar room is the crime scene. unculpable because you attract your murderer, you are the sole provoker. this culmination of allegories stem from a very trying seminar i had earlier this evening, accentuated by the fact that the crime date is a friday evening, a very non-inspiring time of the week to get your grey matter cracking. subject matter: resulting trust. and it was very resulting indeed- that never be unprepared for a tutorial that has so much ambiguities and debate over even the core underpinnings. the rattling didn't help and the bull's eye-questions by more knowing coursemates proved that fact even more audibly. so next up i shall be more constructive (dedna: get the deadly pun?) with the next seminar. just for general accessibility to the private joke-pun: the next seminar is on constructive trust. ok now, don't glare.

actually i never did really talk about my bangkok trip did i? i think the climax is enough to talk about really. this climax truly lives up to its name: it's almost orgasmic. bed supperclub- one of a kind. if you haven't heard me raving incessantly about it already, it's this club-cum-restaurant designed by Orbitz Lab. the surprise don't end there, the crust of the club and the 'wow's of the interior were simply foreplay. then there was the dinner. c'est magnifique absolutement. french to suit the avant garde french cuisine we were served. it was a four course surprise dinner. i don't quite recall the last time i was being culinarily surprised really but this was more than just a pleasant one. i only managed to talk down three of the courses:

1. Antipasto: Chilled melon broth with spiced apple bits and crabmeat.

2. Entree: Garlic and lemon thyme roasted snowfish on yellow lentil pumpkin salsa, cherry tomatoes and whipped corn broth.

3. Dessert (you're allowed to hyperventilate): seasonal berries over white chocolate polenta cake with vanilla whipped cream.

so get why it's all so orgasmic? plus we get to enjoy the food right in bed, what more can a fussy patron of chi-chi restaurants ask for?and service was near impeccable. with the whole experience going on for us, we were more than just feeling climaxy about it..haha. and of course there is the company, without which, the experience could not be brought to such refreshing levels. dedna was dead after one coffee liquer, so that doesn't quite count (haha). YS was being himself, 'nuff said. and with dedna (when she was still sober-alive) as the buffer of our humour, or the subject matter of which, it has got to be fun. and dedna was resurrected once we stepped back into our hotel room. talk about untimely. but we love you all the same Ms. D!..hiak.

then to list unexcitingly, we also went for tea at shangri-la, spa session at Banyan Tree, seafood dinner at this semi-dingy restaurant we found by the road in Chinatown and miscellaneous shopping trips in malls and definitely-dingy streets. i guess we had a whale of a time and a reoccurence of it would be just fine.

and now back to reality, the bleakness of equity shall fade away as i consciously abound on a trip of self-improvement and self-realisation that i can achieve more. idealisms get you the high, actual action is an entire thing by itself altogether. let's see about that.

Two-three: The Roomful of Love

yes it's that time of the year again, the crossing of age, the transcendence of time or a minor crossroad reached. i always believed that something within you changes everytime you cross a birthday line. it might be a perspective of something, some weird part of your psychosis or just a maturing or dematuring of some necessary facet that's required for you to move on with life. i think that might just be what's happening with me now, two days before the dawning of my big two-three.

may i first add that twenty three is a rather daunting number. hsien, just know that it applies to men too so stop the whine for that tad. it's the mid age between twenty and mid twenties, an unwelcome march towards ancientdom.ha.ok being dramatic doesn't help but everyone goes through it, might as well deal with it.

it was literally a roomful of good friends. everyone that i wanted to see, who are here in singapore, were there in that room. thinking back it's quite the luck and gratitude of my life. i need moments like these to remind myself that i should never fucking complain about how lonely i am. some people literally dropped what they had to do to be in that room and i'm here sulking how lonely i am. i'm too much theatrics and bullshit sometimes. i have, in this lifetime, the right to say that i have a roomful of friends, who are not simply hi-bye or friends that i need beside me for some higher perpetuatory purposes, they are all friends i keenly wanted to see. it was a very deep sense of joy and gratitude that i'm swimming in right now. it's overwhelming and tithering on the fringes of being emotional especially with ek's card. i have no idea what i have done to deserve such friends to exist in my life. and the best thing is, i'm feeling this at the aftermath of one of the most sober parties i ever had at my place or otherwise. it's a very entrenching feeling and it's more than just feeling warm all over or merely being thankful for what you have. it's a true understanding (albeit i need to learn to embrace it more steadfastly) that i have no cause to complain what i'm lacking in the romantic realm of my life. i always claim that it's always different, that special someone, but i think it's a lot of fluff and overhyped propagandized material that is inflating this feeling. to come down to it all, i have to learn to be content, to always think so many other people can never truly say that they have a roomful of love. ok u can take it the Freudian way but i don't serve to tease here.

so at this juncture, it's this deep understanding and bare feel of this love that i leave all you people tonight. thanks for all who came and made this happen. and it's apologies out if it's like a wussy piece of writing. but looking at the photos, the presents, the cards and the conversations, you would die to be in my position. take that.