Radin’s show at Webster Hall. i went with some friends from school, but i left them because i’d found what i thought was the best seat in the house– some tall speakers right next to the stage, atop which i hastily clambered and found myself at eye-level with the man himself. i was thrilled at first, but quickly realized it was a big mistake, because i could see everyone. webster hall is quite small. i could see all of the girls being cradled from behind by their tall boyfriends, his chin on her head, as they swayed together to the music. i could see all of the guys going to get drinks for their girlfriends, and those girlfriends holding their boyfriends’ coats as they waited. there was this one couple right in front of me — the guy kept twirling his girlfriend’s hair around his fingers, and many times he would lean down and press his face into her hair (it was so golden and soft-looking). she smiled much. i wondered if she was happy.

i felt sad as i watched everything. is this how god feels? all these songs are about me, i couldn’t help but feel, and because god has so many songs written about him, he must be sad too. is he lonely as he watches over everything? where do all these people in love come from? and why are they always at concerts?

for all of the concerts that i’ve been to lately, i’ve been missing someone. that someone is always far away, whether in hong kong, new york, australia, china, london or singapore. i’m somehow always in these situations. perhaps i’m a sucker for pain. let me tell you guys the story of the Bangkok 100 Rock Festival that i went to a few years ago. i was 18 and so young, and that time feels like showers and showers of meteors away, but the truth is that i’m only 21 now and three years isnt that long a time. when i was 12 i used to read blogs of 21 year old girls in towns scattered all over the world, and i would think, wow, how old these girls are, and how real their lives seem to me, this 12 year old in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, who was, for the most part, quite happy. now i am their age. but my life doesnt seem real to me at all. Unnecessary Tangent Counter = 1.

the point was… the concert in bangkok. so i boarded the very colorful Thai Airways plane, and i remember thinking how easy it was to swathe capitalism in happy purple and yellow seats, big posters exclaiming ‘fair trade coffee!’, big smiles, buy 1 free 1 promotions. but before i knew it i was at the concert site. did i know that i was going to meet the love of my life there? probably not. i wanted to hold his hand but i was afraid. perhaps it was possible that i’d always loved this guy. i remember him feeding me cut-up sausages with a skewer stick, and us sharing a big cup of Coke, but i don’t remember if he held me from behind as we listened to Oasis and Snow Patrol.

lots of things are hazy now in my memory. i dont remember how many nights i stayed, or if i was nervous before i met him. these days, i’m thankful to have him in my life because he saves me from drowning. the last time i was back in KL, i was supposed to help him with some shopping, but the day started and ended with me storming out of his car angrily in the middle of a vast and congested road. he never came back for me, so i kept walking. i could have walked off the edge of a cliff in the middle of bukit bintang and he would never have known. sometimes i think i need to check that fervid temper of mine.

i dont have much to say today. i’m really quite emotionally drained, as i tend to be these days due to nothing at all. it’s the start of a new week, i know, but i had such a restful weekend that spanned extra days. my favorite parts: a dusty evening nestled among old books at the strand, ice skating at bryant park, playing drinking games over lychee soju and the best fried chicken in the world (now sold in singapore too), hearing Sandstorm being played at a club, and the 12-hour sleep i got on Friday. blissful rarities! but these things can become undone so swiftly just by one wrong move. but then again, i’ve always been lucky.

Winter by Joshua Radin

I should know who I am by now
I walk the record stand somehow
Thinkin’ of winter
The name is the splinter inside me
While I wait

The walk has all been cleared by now
Your voice is all I hear somehow
Calling out winter
Your voice is the splinter inside me
While I wait

at the concert, he told us that the inspiration for this song came to him as he was walking along 1st avenue, between 3rd and 4th — which is the name of his first EP. but of course that’s where it had to happen.