Quiet Christmas

I think it's just me but the Christmas spirit feels thinner. The street lights still lights up, people still decorating their homes or shops, and traditions are still performed but they feel automated, you know what I'm saying. 

Maybe it's just age talking or how pessimistic I've become however it's not of those. I tried to separate my emotions to evaluate the holidays every year but I can't help it, Christmas feels...muted. Even gatherings feels quite.

I admit I do long for those days where the world was still vibrant, colorful, noisy, and people were still excited that it's contagious. Now, it kind of feels like a performance and more like a mirror. A reflection of the past but soulless.

Well, I hope you enjoyed my little spiel, my dear readers. Wherever you are happy holidays!

Snug as a Pooh Bear

Tales of Friendship with Winnie the Pooh (2012) —That's the title of the miniseries, shorts, or whatever you call it, that usually comes up during commercial breaks on Disney Junior when I was a kid. I revisited this memory back when we were all on lockdown because of COVID. It took me a while to find the episodes of it online (even Disney+ doesn't have it). It was so calming and peaceful to watch it again. Makes me remember how I loved Winnie the Pooh (I mean who doesnt?!)

Aside from it's very engaging storytelling and colourful scenes. The bedtime song at the end was always so pleasant to hear. I remember anticipating it everytime, it was the perfect lullaby. The piano, the soft voice of the narrator singing which was accompanied with a sweet melody. 

~Snug as a Bear Can Be,                            Dreaming in a honeytree~

I always sang along whenever that part comes on. And apparently, it has  localised versions from other countries as well. Namely, Spain, Italy, and Germany with their own respective narrators. The Italian version being my favourite (aside from the English version ofc) but unfortunately the episodes of it are nowhere to be found except for the bedtime song.

Just talking about this makes me missed how innocent I was. Hahaha!

Solar Lights

Solar Lights 

It was September 30th, 9:59 at night where out of the sudden, everything started to shake. Lights were flickering and suddenly my body just drop to the floor and I try to hug my parents, my mum praying and my dad whaling. Without hesitation, I quickly crawl to get my little brother who was sleeping and ill. There my mum and I found him under the drawers, it fell down. Thank God he was okay and wasn't injured. After what it felts like an eternity, the earthquake stopped. The house was a mess. My mum, who was still praying, hugged my little brother tightly. 

I looked around the house to see if there's any damage. Thankfully, our small and humble house was okay except for us and the things that we owned. No matter how dim it was, I quickly prepared the necessary things and after that we swiftly head out. But that was not the end.

We walked out then looked for a place that seems safe. We stayed at the place that is in front of our house. It was so cold and dark. The only source of light that we had was just the weak solar light and the stars illuminating us. It was refreshing to see the stars so clear again but the wind started to get stronger and colder. It was a thunderstorm coming. We took shelter in a small restaurant but still we felt unsafe.

My mum and I begged my father to transfer to the container van like my mum's former boss, Chuck, said. He was still stubborn. I was so furious at him, I started yelling him to quit his childish act but he still refuses. 

The ground was still shaking, each aftershock was stronger than before. I prayed to God to let me see the sun again before I die. Then, the storm began to get powerful and finally my father budged, we swiftly ran to the container van to take shelter. 

It was so dirty and had a lot of cobwebs. It also had a bedframe where my little slept on it. I refuse to sleep, not because it was dirty (partly it was actually) but I was still shocked. I wanted my mum and and the rest of my family to rest. Because I wanted to see the light. Aftershocks were still happening but my lack of sleep and the adrenaline rush made me numb for some reason. I just prayed to feel the sun again. 

Note: I started writing this on October 1st. But things happened. It's been one week and there are over 8,000 aftershocks now. I hope everyone will be safe. 

Your Band Suck #2

YOUR BAND SUCKS | The 1975

‎You know that feeling when you bite into something that looks exciting but tastes like lukewarm water? That’s The 1975. It's like they collected every pretentious sound from the last forty years, ran it through an artsy internet filter, and called it something original. Their lyrics try to sound meaningful, like they’re making some big statement about love or society. But most of the time it just comes off like a rambling journal entry written during a blackout. And the synths? It’s not nostalgia, it’s dress-up with instruments.

‎They’re the musical version of someone who just learned about philosophy and won’t stop quoting Nietzsche sporadically.

‎Don't get me started with Matt Healy (or whatever the fuck his name is). He walks around like he’s rewriting culture, spouting fake-deep thoughts in interviews like they’re divine truth. He smokes on stage and complains about capitalism like it’s performance art. He also got that face even a mother could punch.

‎The lead singer sounds like a whiny bitch, always stuck in some melodramatic pity party. Their music? Pure synthetic trash designed to pander to overly emotional teens and those who never outgrew their teenage angst. Lyrically, it’s all about Matty’s ego and his sad little insecurities like a broken record obsessing over himself and his supposed “sex appeal,” which feels about as convincing as a kid bragging on the playground. No serious artist respects them; they’ll forever be stuck somewhere between wannabe garage band and mainstream joke.

Your Band Sucks #1

YOUR BAND SUCKS | Radiohead

‎I swear, if I hear one more person say “You just have to feel Radiohead,” I’m going to lose the three remaining brain cells this band didn’t already kill. I gave them a chance (TWICE!!). In 2015. Sat in the living room, forcing my ears to listen to two of their albums, OK Computer and Kid A, waiting for that “life-changing” moment people keep preaching about like it’s some underground religion. Spoiler alert: it never came. I really tried to open my mind to their music. ‎

‎It was like listening to a washing machine have an identity crisis. Melodies? Barely. Energy? None. Joy? Don’t make me laugh. It's just endless droning, cryptic mumbling, and digital beeping like a robot trying to cry but its emotion chip fried. I’ve had more fun waiting for an appointment. ‎

‎And what really burns me is the cult-like worship. Like Thom Yorke is some tortured prophet instead of a dude muttering into a reverb chamber while sounding like he hasn’t opened a window in 20 years. Meanwhile, everyone nods along like they're in on something the rest of us mere mortals couldn't possibly comprehend. ‎

‎Nah. I tossed the CD, and for good measure, I smashed the case too. That wasn’t music. That was an emotional hostage situation.