I should never have gone
I would give up the sun
if only we could be one
But now it's done
and I'm good as dead
I'm lying in bed
as good as I'm dead
Cos' I can't take your smile
out of my head"
Thirty minutes to the eve of the new year... wow!
I have recapped the year on this blog, my new year resolutions have been set, Christmas has come and gone and my Macbook is here! I've done quite some writing in the last week leading up to 2011 and this has got to be a good sign that 2011 is going to me my year of writing! It's going to be fantastic, it has been whispered into my ears!
I have had people asking my if I have a website or a name card, both of which I didn't, but now I have set up another blog by which I am professionally known as The Writer Samantha Liew and I'm waiting to get my card printed. So yes! I'm doing this for real! For the past five months, I've earned less than what I used to earn in a month, although I don't think I worked much less but what the heck, it's happening!!! I relish not going into the office and taking in the damp recycled cubicle air. I love to take breakfast at my pace, I love it!
Feel free to visit the other blog, leave comments etc. It is largely for work and I will write (or hint) about the work I am doing, but my being cannot be just work, I have never been that sort, so I will put in whatever inspires me. It will be just like this blog, but updated more often with much shorter posts and less personal stuff. (Which doesn't make it just like this blog, does it?!!) I will sound very friendly there.
Twenty minutes to the eve of the new year and I am reluctant to get off blogger.
I have been reading Salman Rushdie's Ground Beneath Her Feet for the longest time and I'm having difficulty finishing the last bit of it. Very crudely put, it is about the tormented relationship, the eternal love between two pop musicians. It is funny to read lyrics off a page as opposed to listening to them in a song. Rushdie does it often when his main character Ormus Cama composes.
For example, Ormus wrote this song during the period which his love Vina had disappeared from his life without a trace:
It's not supposed to be this way
it's not supposed to be this day
it's not supposed to be this night
but you're not here to put it right
and you're not here to hold me tight
it shouldn't be this way
I was brewing a foul mood for a while before unleashing the temper into a piece of flash fiction last night, and I came up with some lyrics of my own, which is the "poem" at the beginning of this entry. I don't think I favour it, this technique of weaving poetry into prose, but it was fun experimenting.
Before I end off, some pictures from Christmas! We had dinner at a quaint little Italian restaurant called Trattoria Milano at the secluded Hillview area.
Happy New Year's Eve!
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