It’s 2:08 AM in Sydney, Australia right now. I flew out from Singapore at 1:45 AM the day before, and it’s actually 11:08 PM in Singapore now.
I feel like I’m writing this from the future, but only because I came from the past. So many things in life feel that way, don’t they? Well, that’s just rhetoric.
I’m in Sydney because of my job, we’re running an event this coming Thursday. I feel so displaced, because one day I was at awake when they announced the passing of Lee Kuan Yew, and the next, just slightly less than twenty four hours later, I’m still awake cajoling myself to write, so that I don’t forget.
In my own ways, I have my own things to grieve for. Something deeply personal in me, not to do with Mr Lee, but something I will probably have to come face to face with very soon.
Cryptic, yes I know.
Mutterings and the littlest of words weigh the heaviest on my soul.
And I choose to deal by listening to things I cannot understand. To sounds and melodies that are dissonant, panged and not commonplace. To find solace in alien places, to find hope in the unknown.
I wish for so many things, but I don’t wish to be happy, if happiness was just a transient, fleeting, disposable emotion.
“That changed after Sean died. [Nigel's] attitude was, ‘Make this as lo-fi as possible.’ Looking back I think grieving had a lot to do with that. All those sounds make no sense when you’re grieving. Instead it’s lo-fi, gritty and just a bit ‘fuck you’ when you’re in a lot of pain”
- Jonnine Standish (HTRK), Interview with The Quietus, 6 September 2011