origin: greek

My favourite album of 2 0 1 6 was Bon Iver’s 22, a Million –

Oh, the old modus: out to be leading live

Said, comes the old ponens, demit to strive

A word about Gnosis: it ain't gonna buy the groceries

Or middle-out locusts, or weigh to find

It haunts me, it haunts me, it haunted me, I let it in.

The Dante’s of the music spire, atop the tier, legends of the echelon, Bon Iver. They are modern balladeers with extraordinary, time-bending powers that allows us plebeians to appreciate the baroque in an art form gushing from streaming vocalisations and untold mythics of a poet gone mad.

The courts of old bustling, silent near stillness, as the echoes of the lyricists bounces at a trajectory of a worn path walked personally.

You are surrounded.

You are overrun.

act valiantly

Things I joined for this new year, new me sluice:

  • A reading challenge of 50 books for the entirety of the year and since I am currently on my 3rd book now, I say I’m doing dang pretty well.
  • A job agency.
  • Leadership and mentorship wherein I *cue gasp* am said leader/mentor. Ooh to the responsibilities.

Things I want to join for this new year, new me sluice:

  • A daily ping-pong challenge against my dad and beat my cousin-in-law with a flourish and wrist flick.
  • A French language class as an imitation of life and art.

I feel incensed to accomplish more things when I don’t think about it too much. How does that juxtaposition work? This week, my friends and I took a drive down to the furthermost corner of our great state to admire, to walk, to ice-cream, and to carpool karaoke. Arriving home at close to 10pm with a pulled muscle, I valiantly awoke the next day to take my sister (mostly myself) out to the museum. I bought $7 chicken karaage and regretted nothing. Physically, it seemed careless to soldier on. When I look at my parents, however, all content to just be, their sense of adventure dwindling to smoky wisps of invisibility, I feel accomplished to have treaded the ocean-waves on my micro raft than luxury cruise and feel nothing at all.

Dreamer, prisons, wedding

On the 25th of this first month, my long-lost cousin (jokes) is getting married to the love of thine life. Romantic? Getting-married-overseas romantic!

In an effort to appease my vanity for my first gig as a bridesmaid, I have taken advantage of online shopping and the promotional discounts that flood and junk our inboxes for my said gig dress. However, I am still in need of a pair of tropical fresh bathers that will not attract any unwanted sea creatures; scratch-less sunglasses, and an additional two pairs of shorts that will or will not see the dark and tumble of a laundry machine for ten days.

Thinking ahead, it’s a full two weeks of prepping. Emotionally, I’ve been ready since the day the groomsman announced his intentions; physically, I’m seven years behind. Materially, there is room (and parents) to fill out the zero’s. To divide and conquer, I will wear a silicon mask of Emma Watson’s face so I wouldn’t have to worry about things like my face, and I’ve got a full bottle of bug spray for any unwanted blood-suckers. Bye Edward.

I look forward to this headlining celebration since it straddles the line of my ancestral past and my emblazoned present: where I will be in my family line after the wedding, and where I will be afterwards also. It got me thinking:

In a year, I could have travelled to New Zealand, attended a movie premiere in space with a Danish, an American, and a Dutch-Romanian, and bought myself a genuine silver-gold ring just cause. In five, I could be living la dolce vita writing scripts and immersing myself in creative waters that range from ice-cold to Mad Max: Fury Road. In ten, I probably have a book or something and my parents are living on an island somewhere because I think, that’s what they want?

Foregrounded by Antonin Dvorak’s Symphony no. 8 in G-major, it all sounds fanciful, bordering idealistic, to a fevered impossibility. But why doubt such visions? Why implicate yourself in a prison made entirely by your own squandering, defeatist prison?

Have you ever felt like you’re confined in a space of dreams and envisioning a future so far from what your closest peers, and in some cases, family, are currently living in? A good year ago, I was sleeping on an inflatable bed in the living room of my Texan aunt. My family were all here living simply and unvaried whilst I was thinking about what new adventures await me in the winter-not-winter South West. Will I be surprised by their heavy accents? Will I finally visit their version of Costco and compare and contrast like a science graphic?

Are you like me, hoping to return to a limitless life? Or are you settled and content where you are now? Perhaps grow a family, have what you want where you are and leave it at best?

Darryl H. and John O. presents

I promised to present myself to you all so here I am…vaguely.

  1. Harper F.M. should not be referred to by its acronym (HFM) because it sounds too close to H&M and I don’t want to be mistaken for a sweater.
  2. I like a dose of pop culture, sure, so I’ll throw in a couple of seemingly millennial jargon here and there but to be honest, if you’re enjoying life, getting them you should.
  3. Title of post.
  4. North-East North America is an understated verdant masterpiece and I firmly believe that Albuquerque should be a birth stone.
  5. I want to be the Holy Trinity in the Film & TV industry.
  6. I-

There is so much to be said and done and I’m trying to visualise the best way to convey the statistics of an anonymous me. Therefore, I want to begin by stating that every good person deserves a comma. A comma – for every good person – can be a breather to the meteoric pace of life. A comma – for every good person – can be the separation of every negative, positive, and passive items on life’s list. A comma – for every good person – can also represent a new-year-new-you kind of do because you, my friend, if you so will it, can be a widespread butterfly of the Nymphalidae. A mythological god or goddess on this battered earth.

And you don’t even have to be a good person. Like Anakin Skywalker turned Darth Vader, you have good inside you. You just need your only son to believe in you through a fierce fight of the will (edit: colourful swords).

In essence, however, I am not a repository of philosophy and the vogue. I am an explorer of worlds manufactured by the ingenious that is humanity. Hey, that’s you! You ingenious, you. I adore Film and Television and meant what I said with item number 5 (above) and perhaps Harper F.M. will be more of a journalling to my endeavours to achieve this great dream-calling or maybe ’cause I just want to see Meryl Streep play Batman before I fade into inexistence. Whichever comes first.

But visualise this:

A cold city, very hot during Christmas. A child born far away placed geographically beyond her progenitors’ dreams. A cook, at best, and a tireless friend. Books are her paramours, music softens her soul. She has a dream, a B-Obama dream.

So seriously, y’all, bear with me.


In respect to the wishes of my former self, I have diluted my wardrobe into functioning exhibits:

A. The Reds – before, I would look at this streak as something symbolic to everything I missed out on during a thunderous 2 0 1 6. It includes an amount of alcohol I do not regret not drinking coz I am an A+ gal; travelling to New Zealand that should have, could have but will; and choices I made that I agonise over but also feel strengthened from. Red is for blood spilt, blood made.

B. The Navy – I categorise things like finishing novels, vacuuming my room, spontaneously mopping the floor for mum, and using red ink for headings and black/blue for the accompanying paragraphs in this one. I say it’s more “meh” but everyone else thinks it’s extraordinarily good. Meh…

C. The Coats – I appreciated culture and the arts much more last year than I ever did in the past. I wrapped myself all snug in spontaneous trips to the theatre in howling, fierce weather, I bossed people around (creatively), and I almost fell in a river. This one’s my favourite.

D. The off-shoulders – I look at this and see 2 0 1 7. It’s a trip to space, to castles with Beasts, to attend 4 WEDDINGS of friends same age as moi (*noises*), and an elaborate plan to surprise my parents for their 25th wedding anniversary. Which –

involves me searching for a full-time job that alludes to my interest and passion and expenses. Oh, adventurous beauty.

Till next time ! – when I talk about who am I, where I come from and what I mean by “passion”. Ugh, such an overused word.