But then I saw your eyes.
As dictated by Faranza Syns
Mainstream.
YES? NO?
Tell me once you've decided.
For me? I, for some reason, hate to go mainstream. Especially if I wasn'tthe first one of the first to form the mainstream.
Let's take the used- to- be- so- popular- on- every- darned- blog- I- went-to Steph Meyer. I can't stand to read her books once I found out that everyone was reading them.
And how about The Korean Boys Over Flower? Everyone kept on harping about it, I can't even go to search engines to look them up without having those madly squealing, die-hard fan voices inside my head. It's like a mantra that gets louder, building up to a crescendo. And so, because of the sudden contempt (misguided though it was) that I developed, I decided to not watch the show after all.
Music. Music music music. I don't listen to the radio just for spite. I've no blooming idea who I am trying to spite. But I don't listen to the radio. Unless my dad drives us to school. Then, he'll turn on the radio, and then I'll listen. But to look for new songs? I don't go to radios. I just search the internet for music listings. Yes, I know that's mainstream too. But at least, Malaysia's mainstream isn't as fast as American mainstream. In other words, No 1 in America will be No 1 in Malaysia within a few months. A few months, I say. Ha. So I'll be one of those unique people who've memorised new songs even before anyone else had heard the song on the radio.
Yes, kiasu. With a capital K. You know what? Make it capital all the way. KIASU.
Basically, my thinking of not wanting to be mainstream is due to kiasuness. I just don't want to be of the majority in taste. When I hear that everyone likes "A", I'd instantly develop a sense of scepticism towards "A". A hot guy? If everyone falls for him, I'll just say he's ugly. Okay, bad judgement skills. But when I say he is ugly, that usually means I reserve judgement for later. "Ugly" usually interprets as "I'm sure there's something better underneath. If everyone's seen the outside, I want the insides to impress me, not the outside anymore."
In simple English: It gets harder to impress me once you're popular (and I wasn't the one who made you popular).
Sometimes, things become mainstream just because it was the "in" thing then. And since everyone was listening to it, and some "cool" people dubbed it as "happening", everyone else follows suit.
Not everything mainstream is good. In my opinion, that is. I am not entirely, one hundred and nine percent against mainstream. I am for it, at times (herd mentality and all, you know). But there are times that I prefer to not be too mainstream. Like fawn over Steph Meyer's book just because my other friends are going seriously gaga over her [book(s)].
Bottom line: I reserve judgement for later. If you're popular, the standards I'll be setting is high. It's harder to impress a sceptic than a schoolgirl full of naivete.
And I can't stand it when Tarrant says: "Heh. All mainstream."
Darn. Like you know who Marit Larsen is. Or Nik Kershaw for that matter. And let's not mention Miyano Mamoru. Pffft.
For me? I, for some reason, hate to go mainstream. Especially if I wasn't
Let's take the used- to- be- so- popular- on- every- darned- blog- I- went-to Steph Meyer. I can't stand to read her books once I found out that everyone was reading them.
And how about The Korean Boys Over Flower? Everyone kept on harping about it, I can't even go to search engines to look them up without having those madly squealing, die-hard fan voices inside my head. It's like a mantra that gets louder, building up to a crescendo. And so, because of the sudden contempt (misguided though it was) that I developed, I decided to not watch the show after all.
Music. Music music music. I don't listen to the radio just for spite. I've no blooming idea who I am trying to spite. But I don't listen to the radio. Unless my dad drives us to school. Then, he'll turn on the radio, and then I'll listen. But to look for new songs? I don't go to radios. I just search the internet for music listings. Yes, I know that's mainstream too. But at least, Malaysia's mainstream isn't as fast as American mainstream. In other words, No 1 in America will be No 1 in Malaysia within a few months. A few months, I say. Ha. So I'll be one of those unique people who've memorised new songs even before anyone else had heard the song on the radio.
Yes, kiasu. With a capital K. You know what? Make it capital all the way. KIASU.
Basically, my thinking of not wanting to be mainstream is due to kiasuness. I just don't want to be of the majority in taste. When I hear that everyone likes "A", I'd instantly develop a sense of scepticism towards "A". A hot guy? If everyone falls for him, I'll just say he's ugly. Okay, bad judgement skills. But when I say he is ugly, that usually means I reserve judgement for later. "Ugly" usually interprets as "I'm sure there's something better underneath. If everyone's seen the outside, I want the insides to impress me, not the outside anymore."
In simple English: It gets harder to impress me once you're popular (and I wasn't the one who made you popular).
Sometimes, things become mainstream just because it was the "in" thing then. And since everyone was listening to it, and some "cool" people dubbed it as "happening", everyone else follows suit.
Not everything mainstream is good. In my opinion, that is. I am not entirely, one hundred and nine percent against mainstream. I am for it, at times (herd mentality and all, you know). But there are times that I prefer to not be too mainstream. Like fawn over Steph Meyer's book just because my other friends are going seriously gaga over her [book(s)].
Bottom line: I reserve judgement for later. If you're popular, the standards I'll be setting is high. It's harder to impress a sceptic than a schoolgirl full of naivete.
And I can't stand it when Tarrant says: "Heh. All mainstream."
Darn. Like you know who Marit Larsen is. Or Nik Kershaw for that matter. And let's not mention Miyano Mamoru. Pffft.
____________________________________
I am here to issue a challenge to everyone.
A hidden image within an image.
Who's smart?
You'll know what I mean.
Give me the hidden words and I will love you forever.
Who wants to try to take me on?
No, there was no literal meaning.
A hidden image within an image.
Who's smart?
You'll know what I mean.
Give me the hidden words and I will love you forever.
Who wants to try to take me on?
No, there was no literal meaning.
It's easy to solve. If you've watched Numb3rs.
Oh, look! It's 17th March. Might as well get it all over and done with.
Happy Birthday Caroline Corr, my number one idol.
Happy Birthday Syarifah Noor.
Happy Birthday Abi.
Happy Birthday all you suckers who were (are) born on 17th March. We're on the same boat, you know.
Happy Birthday to me.
How I wish you'd wish me.
Because never-ending dreams always have their loopholes.
________________________________
Oh, look! It's 17th March. Might as well get it all over and done with.
Happy Birthday Caroline Corr, my number one idol.
Happy Birthday Syarifah Noor.
Happy Birthday Abi.
Happy Birthday all you suckers who were (are) born on 17th March. We're on the same boat, you know.
Happy Birthday to me.
How I wish you'd wish me.
Because never-ending dreams always have their loopholes.
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