I say:: you think
- Tolerate:: ren3
- Release:: birds
- My soul:: horcrux
- Sax:: jazz
- HP:: Harry Potter (duh)
- Worth:: coins
- Rockstar:: long hair, guitar and the works
- Terrify:: scared faces
- Knock me off my feet:: love
- Taunt:: Snape
*
The following all from the Inspire Me button on Daydreaming On Paper.
How do you know when someone is your friend?
When you can trust them, and when they say they can trust you.
When you can talk about anything at all, and not worry about being judged.
When you can talk about nothing at all, and still have a great conversation.
When they can tell you off, or be honest about the fact that you suck in one way or another, and still like you.
When you know what each other like and not like.
When they are there for you, and they know you will be there for them when they need it.
List all of the things you wanted to be when you grew up.
More or less in the order I was growing up:
A yellow clown.
An artist.
A scientist.
A marine biologist.
A popstar.
A radio DJ.
An advertising person.
A TV producer.
A director.
A filmmaker.
An Oscar-winner.
A great physicist.
A great mathematician.
A motivational speaker.
A guitarist.
A rockstar.
A street performer.
A professional dancer.
A kindergarten teacher.
A web celebrity.
A cafe owner.
A comedienne.
A model.
A voice-over artist.
But most of all an actress so that I can be all of these.
Describe the strangest conversation you have ever overheard in a public place.
This isn't mine - it's a story of Nick's. You know those snippets of conversation that you hear in movies that just for some reason crack you up? Well he was in high school or something and they were passing by these science students or whatever, and one guy was saying to his friend "... and then I found out, it was a parallelogram!"
And that was all they heard. I think they burst out laughing.
List 10 words that you like.
Crisp
Savvy
Irony
Laughter
Exuberance
Sparkle
Beautiful
Fresh
Love
Pseudo
List 10 things from your childhood that you wish all children could have or experience.
Treasure hunts - once we had banana splits as the prize
Nationwide races - we'd have clues and go around Singapore (and even Sentosa once) and learn a lot and have a lot of fun
Bus learning journeys - we took 67 all the way from my house to Bukit Timah and back again and got out at certain stops to visit places and learn stuff
(Evidently, you'd see by now that I have a cool mum)
Swings
Harry Potter
Oldies
Bike hikes and getting drenched in the rain for 18 km
Going around houses with a lion dance troupe
Campfires
Being able to do what you want
List the best gifts you have ever given.
ES presents, obviously.
Paul's PDA - Personal Dating Assistant. Included Gatsby hair gel, shaving cream, and what have you; comb; Smint; 17 chocolate coins; and the topper - a copy of FHM.
Atiqah's box of FEAR - Funky EARrings. 7 pairs of funky earrings, one for every day of the week.
Makoto's IPOD - Incredible Package of Dreams. Theatre book which had "dream" in the title; CD mix in which every song had "dream" in its title; Cadbury Dream chocolate; a dreamcatcher; and a picture of an ipod.
And who will ever forget Nick and Matt's mad hats. One Ibiza party hat, one tropical backpacking hat, complete with cards of a furious beret and a snarky sombrero, with notes written on notes (Francs and Pesos) in them.
I think I got more creative this year, eh?
Thanks goes to Tiq, who is the best ES present shopper in the world, and to Janice for tolerating my rubbish when we went hat shopping.
List the poems you still remember from having had to memorize them in high school.
Didn't have to memorise these, but I'll never forget them.
The Lady of Shalot
Alfred Lord Tennyson
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And through the field the road run by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
Only reapers, reaping early,
In among the beared barley
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly;
Down to tower'd Camelot;
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy
The Lady of Shalott."
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care heat she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot;
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes through the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two
She hath no loyal Knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often through the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot;
Or when the Moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed.
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armor rung
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, burning bright,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining.
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And around about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance --
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right --
The leaves upon her falling light --
Thro' the noises of the night,
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame,
And around the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed themselves for fear,
All the Knights at Camelot;
But Lancelot mused a little space
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."
The Bells
Edgar Allen Poe
I
Hear the sledges with the bells-
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
II
Hear the mellow wedding bells,
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And an in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
III
Hear the loud alarum bells-
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor,
Now–now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows:
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells-
Of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
IV
Hear the tolling of the bells-
Iron Bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people–ah, the people-
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All Alone
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone-
They are neither man nor woman-
They are neither brute nor human-
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells-
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells-
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells:
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells-
Bells, bells, bells-
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
List 25 things that are good for the soul.
- Laughter
- Good soup
- Doing what makes you happy
- Chocolate
- Fresh air
- Music
- Love
- Cheesecake
- The beach
- Holidays
- Best friends
- Swings
- Dancing in the rain
- Campfires
- Daydreaming
- Doing things that make other people happy
- Guitars
- Being yourself
- Passion
- Creativity
- Live concerts
- Special memories
- Receiving compliments
- Karaoke
- The wind in your face
If you were a superhero, what powers would you have?
I'd be able to fly, obviously. And apparate.
*
It is 1531 hr now. I took two hours to come up with all that. My gosh, medsoc calls.