two's company, three's a crowd

Yesterday I sought out my artistic 'roots' with my Dad, and it was nothing short of fun.
Somehow I don't think it would have been as enjoyable if my Mum was around. It makes me wonder if people tend to love one parent more than another, or if we should love both equally. Maybe we tend to love one more if the situation calls for it.

Perhaps that's how humanity is - selfish, leaping from person to person, choosing whoever suits our needs.
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On a less dour and pensive note, the Singapore Biennale 2013 was interesting. There were some compelling and aesthetically pleasing works, while others were just downright disappointing - I'm looking at you, Longing by Chi Too. Personally, I found the works at the National Museum of Singapore to be the best, where the works of Liu Kang, Georgette Chen and Chua Mia Tee amongst others were on display. I guess this is in line with my being a purist; my tolerance threshold for video and sound installations is very low, frankly speaking.

But it is kind of ironic, considering my love for film and music, yeah?

boredom

I suppose I created this blog to pen down more private thoughts that would experience much more scrutiny on my tumblr, but to be honest I doubt many would check out this blog.

To be honest, I feel weighed down, by (shock! gasp! the horror!) one of my oldest and best friends.

Somehow I think we've known each other for too long and our boredom with each other is just sinking in, or has already sunk in for a long period of time, emerging again once more like a piece of debris floating to the surface in a sea of apathy.

I keep pondering the cause of this - is she or am I the boring one? It does not help that she keeps talking about her own problems, life and other friends - am I supposed to find this interesting? It's so fucking tiring responding to so many everyday events with affected concern and care, and I am already doing her a great favour by hardly talking about my personal life, in fear of boring her.

Oh, talk about one great cosmic joke.

Yet, I sound like a huge hypocrite as she is one of the most reliable and trusted friends I have. 

I just miss the days where we would talk about our interests instead of everyday events, where film and music could elevate our conversation from the usual banal banter.

Sometime I don't feel like replying, eschewing her (possibly meaningless) "hahas" and "yeahs" for more stimulating discussions where other friends illuminate me on the nature of various animalia and the symbolic meaning of the film "Prisoners". 

Fuck, you don't even have to talk to me about something high brow and intellectual, just talk to me about something where we have a common and shared experience: something I can care about and not have to fake interest in.

I guess part of the reason for my irritation is that you probably mistake my subdued responses as ones of interest.

I fervently hope that you eventually realize I am tired and bored of listening, and that you should listen too.