Sunday, January 28, 2007

The Sembawang music shop near my house turned out to be a gem of a place. I bought a Travis singles compilation and A Scanner Darkly VCD for $12.90 each.

Maybe I've not really been in-tune with the prices of such things these days, but these are bloody cheap in my book.

Not too sure why I chose Travis though, over all the other slightly more 'recent' stuff they had on offer. Maybe it was the CD cover. Or the fonts. Or the fact that seeing their name made me smile.

Its been a long long while. I think the last time I really listened to them was back in 2001 after the Coldplay/Travis concert. I still remember what I wore to that place. Some shiny silver top from Bodynits which I can't seem to find anymore, and I suspect I left it behind in Darren's place. Dammit. I liked that top.

That was also the first time I went to Rice Table. I remembered thinking it was a helluva bad idea because I ate till I was going to burst and you can't help but be conscious of a bloated tummy when you're wearing a shiny top.

Have been very stressed. Mostly because the article I'm working on is supposed to be the opening article and I don't really feel very confident that its going to do the magazine much justice. They may just switch it to the back, and I really really wouldn't mind.

But then again, this is the reason why I left ST, because I had forgotten what stress felt like. Stress, not just nervousness or anxiety. But pure stress that stems from ugly feelings of insecurity and questions about your own abilities. And stress that requires you swallow all that down just so that you are able to function.

I always did have a masochistic streak in me.

A Scanner Darkly proved slightly disappointing. I liked the idea and all, but a brief read of the original script by Charlie Kaufman makes me think that Linklater made a slight mistake adapting it by himself.

And I don't really appreciate drug-laden performances anymore. The hyperarticulate Robert Downing Jr. was of course utterly entertaining, and that scene where they argue about the purchase of a 18-speed bike was really quite something - but I think maybe real life is harder to deal with and I guess I don't relate to whatever point the director is trying to make.

But I love the title of the movie.

And now I am wondering if the numerous bug/aphids/roach-references is any indication of an influence from Kafka? Themes of alienation, identity, self-imprisonment? It has to be.

I just felt like talking. Back to work now.