I just averted my first eye contact lens crisis - I got them out after they got stuck in my really dry eyes. I panicked a little at first, it was freaky because usually you can place you (clean, washed with soap) finger on the lens and move it a bit. But this time it was so firmly stuck on that I thought I was pushing my own eyeball ): Then as I moved my finger, my entire eye changed direction proportionally :x I just put a little pressure on it, and my eyeball felt squishy. LOL. It made me think of the eyeball dissection I did in Sec 4, which I was quite disgusted with because it was so hard to pierce and cut through the fibrous (not the proper scientific description) sclera. Then the vitreous humor came out, all jelly like and poke-able.

Actually come to think of it, this is a really sick post.

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Today I watched Mosaic's Camera Obscura at the Esplanade. They played a whole host of old favourites like Razzle Dazzle Rose, Lloyd I'm Ready To Be Heartbroken, alongside new songs from their upcoming album - which sounds really good from the samples they played. As usual, I am tempted to complain loads about the people there, all these ~indie~ people with their skinny jeans, geek glasses and chequered lumberjack shirts, I even saw a few gladiator sandals there and someone wearing a Diana+ camera around their neck. There was also this random girl who stood up to watch at the 'last' song with her friend, blocking everyong behind her. Then she started dancing. Not in a proper way but a I'm-so-feeling-this-song-that-I-am-compelled-to-repeatedly-reangle-my-body-10-degree-10-second-intervals. The song wasn't even dancable too -________- It was a song that even the enthusiastic people downstairs had stopped dancing to. Needless to say Jiahui and I high tailed it out of there as soon as the concert ended. (I just realised that anytime I talk about Mosaic, bitching about the people there is a given)

Anyway the main point of this post was not to bitch about people, but about associative memory. I used to listen to Camera Obscura a lot last year, especially during the month that I was stuck at home because I couldn't walk. One of the songs Camera Obscura has is a song called Let's Get Out of This Country. During that period, I couldn't even bear to listen to that song because of it's implication - a want to get out of the country and being unable to. Listening to that song today being played live was an experience. I felt a sliver of past emotion slid into me, and for a moment felt like I was back there on that day.

Another song they played today was Suspended From Class (please ignore the actual video), which the singer talks about an attraction to someone in class. And then the memory came to me of a time where I used to check last.fm incessantly because of someone, and how he'd always listen to this song over and over, and how I just realised today that he listened to it with the thoughts of me.

Perhaps that is a problem with such a strong associative memory. In my case such a memory is tied very strongly to songs. For instance I will always associate Fools In Love with a certain boy and remember how I used to cry over him in 2006. It it something that I might not remember everyday, heck it's someone I don't think about any more, but it's a song that even a mentioning, can take me back to that day. And I'm not sure if this is a good or bad thing, to have my emotions and memories so strongly tied to something that can be sometimes unpredictable.

This will of course pose a dilemma when Stars comes to Singapore. Of course I love Stars, they were my most listened to artist on my last.fm. But then there is the fear that listening to them will conjure up old memories of my past - of the songs we used to share and the songs that reminded us of each other. They were our band (odd considering a lot of their material was about the end of relationships). That's not to say of course that I'm not over him, but I think I can attest to this through experience - a lost past love will never leave you - not even when you're pushing 70 and surrounded by your grandchildren (I am suddenly reminded of Kazuo Ishiguro's The Remains of the Day).

Memories can be suppressed and repressed, they can even be blotted out by hallucinogens and prozac, but in reality they're always with you everyday.