<jonathan> Please write identity here:
just wondered today after thinking about some people I've seen in the scene. They call themselves punk, indie, straightedge(rarer and rarer) and all that. How do they know? Is it like the supposed thing where one day a guy wakes up and realizes he's gay( which seems to be more of a psychological defense, according to a couple of ex- homosexuals I've spoken to)?
So is the scenario like some guy gets out of bed and realizes he's a skinhead, because he's wearing a thick padded jacket and his jeans are way tight? He gets up and discovers his hair is all gone and he wears boots? Then it all hits him in a split second, "I'm a skinhead". after which he does the thing from the crying game where he stands in the shower, cowering and sobbing in a corner after coming out....
why are our identities so important to us? Why do we have to add that last bit,"I'm sXe" or "pro-vegan punk", or "ah beng and proud of it"?
go make your own. If you really were punk and unique, you wouldn't want to dress like anyone else would you? If you are so special, what's the point of paying so much money to look like the next guy and say that you are against the grain?
"Yeah, I paid $180 for my boots to look like I'm poor working class", "I spent $60 for the bad dye job on my hair."
Sometimes I wonder if crusty punks are richer than the rest of us. And they call us sellouts. Mirza is cool, just being himself I suppose, the friendliest crusty guy I ever met, like Casper the friendly ghost. Alot of the younger ones...well......
I'm logging off, got a gig to play, and will observe more as I go along. will report later.I'm still sick, dunno how to do it.
</jonathan> <!--1:39 AM-->
<jonathan> I HATE THE CHESS PLAYING UPSTAIRS
sick day yesterday. Slept in where I could but had respiratory problems, chest felt congested, so that sucked, couldn't sleep much. Still can't. Just this afternoon, tried to sleep, and then the neightbour from upstairs started playing chess. I've met him, some old sckool fella who's deaf as a doorknob. He plays chess on the floor and when he thinks, he picks up the pieces and drops them on the floor repeatedly. Rat dratatatatat....rat dratatatatatat....Rat dratatatatat...... Heard he was some old Lieutenant Col from the SAF who fancied himself a strategist. Must be one of those 'jiang jun' wannabes who never made it past COL. Laughing boy just forgot that everytime he does something on a stone floor, the vibrations actually pass through. Had a good mind to turn my amp ALL the way up and shake up his Command Staff College sensibilities! Went upstairs and complained once, but I guess he left his brain in camp when he booked out. Instead, quietly yelled at him in my head, trying to get some sleep. If it happens tonite, I think Eddie Van Halen and my Gibson SG will have something to say, no matter what the time is.
Just went to the doc this afternoon and discovered that I'm athsmatic. My dad freaked out and went on and on and on...I've learned he does that when he is under stress, and so kept quiet all the way home. Just letting him wear himself out."No more gigs for you..." and all that. I quietly remarked that I know guys with chronic athsma who still are violent as onstage. Still, he was not convinced. He needs to see it to believe it.
Anyways, I am fairly confident my gig days are far from over, because if God wanted me off, he would explain it to me first, and wouldn't have told me so many things about stuff that I haven't done yet. I think my dad was just letting off steam.
Still, the realization of my athsma makes me wonder if I had gone on without knowing, would I have collapsed? </jonathan> <!--6:30 AM-->
<jonathan> THE DEFINATION OF MATURITY:Wake up and smell the coffee
In addition to what I said earlier, I am definitely sick. My flu is pretty bad now, and all I feel like doing is curling up with a bunch of my new VCDs(2 out of 9 movies are not watchable, except one of which i may be only able to watch on a proper VCD player), a cold bottle of Bundabergs' ginger beer. My head is stuffed right now and my mucus runs almost as thin as water, which is a sign that I'm dehydrating fast. I have a dry throat, which I will remedy soon as I finish this, then I will sleep as much as I can, hang the consequences, I may not even be able to go to school, so too bad.
I forgot, Yen paid for(and I want to pay her back) a long-sleeved T-shirt that I have always wanted.
Since about 1994 or thereabouts I have wanted a long-sleeved t-shirt that would have wide red-and-black bands, a striped one, like the British Dennis the Menace!
I caught sight of a similar one in Petaling St, and on enquiries, the lady had the exact one I wanted! She quoted me for RM45, which I eventually brought down to RM20(slightly under S$10), SWEET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Considering all that we have had to do over the last few days, I suppose I am not surprised that I am falling sick, only wondering why it din happen earlier.
Had a thought today about self-esteem.
Especially with regards to how much it is our motivation towards whatever we do. A band I know are rehearsing about 3 x a week to get one gig right. I dun think that's dedication, but possibly obsession. What could motivate it? Nothing else in life to be proud of? Competetiveness?
How many people do I know that also do that sort of thing? Drive themselves into utter exhaustion because of a little insecurity? How many others are brave enough to admit to it?
Then it got me thinking about someone I saw once, whom I dun really like. Acting the total obnoxious rockstar onstage, and being really arrogant, damaging(someone else') gear and not liking to be told that it was not to be done again. It left a worse state in my already bad impression of him, hard not to see past it. He thought he was haviong a 'rock n' roll' moment, that he was the greatest. Actually, his voice was pretty bad because he was slightly drunk. I guess everyone else was too polite to tell him.
So what didn't I like about him?
I know of his lack of facing up to responsibility, that whenever he was told something he didn't like to hear, he would say we were being totally beourgoise and trying to tell him what to do. Totally run away from it all...pretending it didn't exist.
Also reminded me of something else, a defination of something I realized awhile ago;maturity.
How does one separate the child from an adult in that area?
The child ONLY knows how to take. The adult DOES know how to give. that also is connected with responsibility. Not liking to be told what to do is part of it.
Anarchy is not a defination of rebellion, of freedom from the bondage of society, but simply not wanting to face up to reality.
I'm pooped. I'm mashed. I'm knackered, tired, sick. I want sleep.
don't call me tomorrow morning.
</jonathan> <!--8:01 AM-->
<jonathan> I just got back yesterday, and it was interesting. tiring, but interesting.
The 2 surreal gigs went well, I thought, we were quite violent, but I can't help but feel that malaysia isn't ready for indie/emo yet. Still alot of the sideways cap nu-metal influence that permeates the scene. yen and me were at a skateshop on sun afternoon and it was all nu metal over the PA in the malls. All the posters are Limp Bizkit and Linkin Park. Guys like us really are underground there, and I suppose I understand if Keng should feel he is fighting an uphill battle.
The VCD smuggler, back in action after so long. 9 movies, almost ALL of which I have never seen before, so that'll be good. Shall watch something tonite and then save some for yen's place. another excuse to hog the TV set from blinky big eyes acting cute, better known as, the 'centre of gravity'(the world revolves around me).
Mil din get to eat his beef noodles, yes. I think shouldn't have wasted his stomach on the ramli's, after all, they are EVERYWHERE, but there is only ONE petaling ST beef noodles. Ji joined me and yen for awhile, but am sad that I din get to spend much time with her as I would have liked. I had a total of 4 bowls this trip, which was worth every cubic inch of stomach space.
Ji says that she saw someone filming a porn movie in KL, and I would have cracked my guts if I'd have seen what she saw; a guy on the street with a lighting thing, then someone inside a seedy hotel, stuck his topless torso out the window and shouted to him to raise the lamp higher!
Good thing we stayed a day longer, Nathan's fried fish is still calling out to me. But I was SOOooooooosss shack yesterday, and I am defintely coming down with something, some flu.
I saw my pedal, the tremollo that I wanted, but I din have any cash left! RM190 which is about S$90!!!!ist hand!!!! I am going back in feb, so I will collect then. I think I'll ask Keng to buy it for me.I forget the name of the shop, sounds like "Wot f**k" or something like that.Glenn will have to correct me.Tiny little shop that looks like a chinese mediciine shop on the outside, but has genuine Les Pauls on the inside.
Kl is such a strange place!!!
</jonathan> <!--2:24 AM-->
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