Thursday, March 28, 2013

After 1am Thoughts

221B Baker Street.

I am obsessed with BBC's Sherlock, I kid you not. Literally my kind of show. Benedict Cumberbatch makes things harder to breathe every time I watch it. Dr Watson (Martin Freeman - yes, from LOTR) is another adoring character. It's quite evident about the difference when the show is produced by Americans and British respectively. Not talking about 'who does it better' because it really depends on your preference.

However, comparing it with the movie Sherlock Holmes (Robert Downey) and BBC's Sherlock       I'd pick BBC's any other day. Maybe because series of shows give you more anticipation and the urge of wanting more. But generally, the British wits, plot and Cumberbatch & Freeman on-screen relationship are superbly amazing. Another point to note is, Sherlock's (Cumberbatch) mysterious, sexy and intelligence mind is to die for. This is the definition of a hot, smart-ass guy.

Though the downside is, one season only has 2 episodes (each is about 1 and 1/2 hours long) and it takes nearly a year for one season. Now I'm hanging by a thin thread because the latest episode is not out yet.

(seemed justifiable to insert a gif here)

I'm sorry that my posts have been quite negative lately. Makes me sound rather pathetic but it's hard when things are bottled up inside. So really, I am okay. These are just feelings and thoughts, and I guess I express it differently than others who prefer to tweet or tell others. Then again, I'm the kind of person who cries and go into depression when I finish a book, should have seen that coming.

On a different note, it's 8 weeks until finals. If this is not a time bomb, then I don't know what it is. 

On the next note, I really hate morning classes. Nearly everyone does (I assume) but I just need to type it out.

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Hang with Me

Come up, come up and hang with me,
With silence, on this old oak tree.
Come up, come up and hang with me,
With ropes, on this old oak tree.
Up as we come, down as we go,
With ropes and silence on this old oak tree.

(I wrote this down while doing my Criminal work. Go figure.)

Sunday, March 24, 2013


There are days when I feel less of something, like missing the final piece to complete a puzzle. Goddamn do you know how frustrating it is? A story without an ending. That missing piece.

Like the missing puzzle, I've tried to search for it. Under my bed, between books, closing my eyes, on bus rides, walking in crowds, being alone and sometimes, I've tried to search it on other people. Maybe the puzzle dropped on them or maybe they accidentally took it. Of course, I never asked them        not literally, that'll be accusing someone of stealing.

Maybe the reason I'm not accusing anyone of stealing is because I don't even know what's missing. I've been feeling less but yet, less of what?

What if, it's not really the one puzzle that's missing? What if, I'm the odd piece? What if I've been trying to fit in with the wrong pieces all the while?

I catch myself tuning the world out most of the time and just wrap my arms around solidarity, but it's painful sometimes to be a bystander. So I'd conform to be the same puzzle as the rest when I have the strength.

When I'm wearing thin and feeling less of myself, I think, would someone please just tap on my shoulder and say "Where have you been all along?"

Sunday, March 10, 2013

It's a Metaphor, You See?

At the request of Shuf, I shall write a review about The Fault in Our Stars (although I'm quite sucky at writing reviews)

*SOME SPOILER ALERT*  Don't say I didn't warn you.

Within the first few pages of the book, I kind of knew where this story would lead me to. Two cancer patients fall in love and at the end, one of them would die. So I was quite nervous when I was reading it, because I knew what was going happen, I just didn't know how it was going happen. To which, I must say, John Green pulled it off really well, I was consumed by the words and contents - and not the plot (but I was so so devastated)

The story begins from this girl, a cancer patient named Hazel Grace but the turning point starts when she meets the boy wonder, Augustus Waters (who's actually NEC) at the support group who was there to support his friend, Issac. Augustus being the charismatic and oh-so gorgeous person he is (yes, yes, I've met him) hit it off with Hazel.

He has this habit of calling her, "Hazel Grace", instead of "Hazel", which for some odd reason I found such a....turn on?

But that would not be the case if someone were to call me in my full name. It's just too long. *sigh*

Anyway, back to the review.

I was very much in love with all the characters, especially Hazel's parents. They were so sweet and caring and I like how they were her best friends. I  BUT I COULD NOT STAND PETER VAN HOUTEN. There were countless of times I felt like stabbing a knife through the book so he would just shut up. I pitied him, a bit, at the near endings of the book but I still could not wholly feel sorry for him.

However, I guess why I really, really like the book is because of its transparency about life and death. The characters were honest; there was no hidden meaning or riddles needed to be broken. The glimpse of reading people suffering from cancer minds, those living with them and how evidently, how people deal with death. When I say people, I do mean the dying and the living. I think that's why I love Hazel + Augustus, because the conversations they had were something that they only understood, similar to speaking a foreign language that only two of them understood.

Augustus is really, such a romantic but not the cheesy kind. I was expecting it to be like Nicholas Sparks-ish kind of romance but this totally caught me off guard. It wasn't the sort of far, far away land; it was closer to home and simple but sweet. He was flirty but not too flirty, and he really, just, really love Hazel. Oh. My. God. I can't do this. (I WANT MY AUGUSTUS. WHERE ARE YOU, HONEY PIE????!)

The part where he used his Wish to bring her to meet her favourite writer in Holland. I just died. And the thing I really like about Augustus is, even though he wasn't particularly a huge an of Peter Van Houten, he liked him enough because Hazel like him, as Augustus felt she had given him a special gift by introducing her favourite book. (And again, THIS IS SO RELEVANT SO WHERE CAN I FIND A GUY LIKE AUGUSTUS???!!!!?!?)

I cried at many parts when reading the book and I don't think I've cried this many times for a book. A Walk to Remember and The Kite Runner teared me up but this took me to a whole new level. However, unlike the Kite Runner, I could re-read TFIOS again and again without feeling like I'm murdering someone. For two consecutive days, I was depressed. Even now, writing about this, I think....I think I'm choking up.

Especiallu Augustus and Hazel's "okay" being their always. I JUST --

If I were a guy, I'd totally date and marry Hazel. Usually I'll have this reader-characters conflict when it comes to the main female character. A clear example was Annabeth from Percy Jackon's series and Katniss from Hunger Games. If you have read the books, you would probably understand what I mean. Sometimes I feel that some authors try too much in building up the female characters, to the point where instead of being strong, they appear weak; instead of being elegant, they become whiny. Hazel, on the other hand, was such a wonderful contrast compared to Annabeth and Katniss.

Oh! And do you realise almost every female characters in nearly every book is a book worm? Just a thought.

I can really go on and on but I think I should end it here before I wind up re-writing the whole story.

By the way, this, this is when I bawled my eyes and figured if anyone can love someone this much. *sniffs*

"I will not tell you our love story, because-like all real love stories- it will die with us, as it should. I’d hoped that he’d be eulogizing me, because there’s no one I’d rather have…, I can’t talk about our love story, so I will talk about math. I am not a mathematician, but I know this: There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There’s .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. A writer we used to like taught us that. There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set. I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful."

Thursday, March 7, 2013

I Cried and Cried and Cried

This line has been ringing in my head since I read the book. Mainly because I've always thought about it and it's nice to know that someone else thinks about it too.

"There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does." 

- The Fault in Our Stars, John Green