the axiom

and we come full circle

2008-05-05T20:07:00.003+08:00

quite frankly, i have no idea how to begin this entry. and as unglamorous a start that may have been, i guess it would have to suffice.

i've been reduced to nothing more than a mere function. the equivalent of worn out 'enter' button. it's funny how life used to throw you curveball after curveball, and then suddenly it all stops. it's as though life grew tired of you, and forgot you like an unwelcomed aunt. and what're you left with then? nothing but monotony. instead of spending your life anticipating the next ball and thinking of ways to not only beat its trajectory but hitting the ball back, you get pressed and pressed and pressed, to sum up someone else's sentence and begin another one for them.

it begins well usually, but once the fanfare dies down, all you're left with is the dull noise of being pressed upon.

i guess i crave for more. but then you begin to think. did you actually manage to dodge that curveball at all? or did you get hit, again and again and again, just like that 'enter' button?

i've lived my entire life in the shadows of the past. circumcising both fact and logic to cleanse a memory that had no right to exist in the first place. i sought solace in the care and understanding of those i knew, but then i realised that even though i've always been well known, i've never been well liked. far from it even.

other people bask in the sunlight of friendships, but me? i shelter myself in the pockets of tolerance. maybe because that's all i can manage.

it's all too messy, too disorganized, too scrambled to decipher, but those dull thuds continue to haunt me. i'm too pesky and troublesome for people i guess. impossible to deal with. maybe i should just disappear like friction- worn lettering on buttons; pressed beyond redemption.

i've never been well liked. and we now come full circle.

solace

2008-01-28T20:58:00.000+08:00

Melody

The world is a jukebox,
Playing every imaginable sound.
Those that bound, glide, spring and sing,
Promiscuous in corners, and bears itself for a dime.
You never know what symphony awaits
At the end of a busy Singaporean street,
The chorus of life, soft, in a heart beat.
If you’re quiet you will hear,
The hymn of the nightingale seducing the sunlit sky,
The hushed whispers of aunties scampering for truth,
The apologetic screech of rubber on tar,
The desperate horn, rude and uncouth;
And the understanding sigh of the boy lying on the street,
Songless and lifeless-- from his eyes to his feet.

person of the year

2007-12-19T22:26:00.000+08:00

putin was named as time's person of the year for 2007. that's right, putin.

vladimir vladimirovich putin.

for all you bono and hady mirza fans out there, my hearts mourns with you. putin is undoubtedly an interesting choice, considering time's person of the year recognition is not an accolade and but an acknowledgement of an individual's impact as a global force, and in that right we can see how putin may have justified his selection. his strong hand has steadied a ship that has long been wandering in the open seas without any direction and one that has struggled to shrug off the long shadows of its communist past. however, in direct contrast to the very merry yeltsin, putin is a throwback to the russian (and even communist) leaders of old, and it remains to be seen whether his style of leadership will lead to another era of repression reminiscent of stalin and brezhnev.

however, a strong russia on the world map is and always has been a welcomed option. its geopolitical significance can never be underestimated, and its eventual resurrection will offer the world an alternative to american hegemony. such promising signs can even be seen in the current iranian and north korean issue, with russia having a major say in the former by continuing the shipment of nuclear materials to iran and brokering deals with the latter. with putin at the helm or with him pulling the strings for his successor in his capacity as the premier, the world can be assured that russia will once again rise from the ashes as it once did.

but i've always thought that gore would have clinched the title though. not that i like him or anything, in fact i do think he impresses me as some twat from a disney commercial gone wrong, but he has raised awareness for our current environmental dilemma and popularized the term 'climate change'. the impact he has had on the international political arena has been unprecedented at the very least. the world has never seen environmental issues having a major say in scuplting the dynamics of international relations, and even though these effects cannot be attributed to gore directly, we cannot deny that he had a major say in making the world stand up and take notice.

in other news, hady mirza won asian idol (cues nationalistic glee). even though i'm starting to suspect that our dear idol's vocal abilities are indeed a tad suspect and that taufik might have done a better job, this writer urges one and all to set aside the conspiracy theories and bask in the fact that singapore actually beat the other countries in a SINGING competition.

hey at least it wasnt joakim gomez representing us-

back in black

2007-12-16T15:35:00.000+08:00

alright, so i'm back after an annoying couple of weeks where i had to reformat my computer for a total of 7 times. many apologies. at any rate, i have got to enjoy my whole week of leave. this MUST include meeting up with Suhas before he flies off for some desolate corner in god forsaken Tanzania (a.k.a. Oxford to the uninitiated) and organise a class outing where i actually turn up.

in the meantime, i do urge everyone to indulge in the foo fighters' latest fare, 'The Pretenders'. Its a rather addictive song and testimony that there is life after Pat Smear. Cheers-

who ate the BK fish?

2007-11-18T21:44:00.000+08:00

well i did talk about girls in an earlier post, so let's talk about guys now. no, this is not a momentous "coming out of the closet" entry. there is no closet, and i am not in any closet. nonetheless, it does make an interesting topic. boys i mean. not closets.

originally i wanted to talk about blogging, but a certain leprechaun by the name of christine decided that boys would be a better topic. and right about now, i'm anticipating a broken nose =]

as we all should know by now, the sexiest guy alive list came out recently, and well matt damon won it by a mile. aside from the usual complaints of "why am i not on the list!", and "why didnt i win it?!!?", which naturally stemmed from a myopic voting populace and a bias system in general, i thought the list was ok. but honestly, how does one judge and evaluate sexuality? i doubt women even have an inkling individually, much less reach a cohesive agreement amongst themselves.

it's the ultimate paradox. they want someone mysterious (elmer fudd of warner bros fame), someone charming (see Imran, Muhd), someone strong (see Tan, Denys), and basically fulfill that Jake Ryan figure that every woman lusts after. But in reality, they want that cushy guy who will shop with them, who will listen to their feelings, spout cheesy nothings and serve that ever illusive 'breakfast in bed'. now that my friends, are really high expectations and mind you, we just can't live up to all of them.

we are who we are, and you gotta live with or leave it all behind. live with it preferably.

you know what? women should have that personal checklist, and make it public. that way-- when we make an application-- we can have a rough estimate if we can make the grade (the male ego is definitely a wonderful thing) and move on! now wouldnt that be much easier!

it would of course make courtship as interesting as my facebook profile page, but hey it would make things so much easier for us martians! direct, and simple. plus, it would serve to solve one out of two of the world's greatest mysteries. the other of course, is to figure out why gurmit singh and adrian pang are appearing on every god damn show on channel 5.

p.s. they call it being 'devilishly charming', and i know you know it to be true =]

the zoo!

2007-11-08T18:24:00.000+08:00

now come on, who doesnt like the zoo? the mandatory excursion for all eager 6 yr olds across the nation that rivals the memories of BCG shots in primary 6 and national service for all eager 6 yr old males across the nation. in fact, to rekindle the fond memories i had of sheba the polar bear and ah meng the ferocious teetotaller of a chihuahua, i revisited the revered cages of the mandai zoological gardens. and boy did that take time =]

at any rate, i actually enjoyed myself there. however, there was this one curious little incident (attempts to look seductive with a spoon aside) that took my eye and has amused me till now. and that moment ladies and gentlemen can be summed up by the following picture:

out of all the animals that needed a wash in the zoo-- for example the white rhino, that has ceased to live up to its sterling name-- the lifeless ben and jerry's cow instead got the nod for a good scrub. don't get me wrong, i have nothing against the good fellows of bnj, in fact i quite enjoy their fare (especially cherry garcia), and i'm all for washing paper mache cows, but you gotta admit this is quite amusing.

not only that, it took TWO good fellows of bnj to wash our dear cow.

i actually had half a mind to send this picture to Stomp!, but looking at the entire set- up they have there and the engaging intellectual discussions they have, i'm afraid they might just launch a tirade against the cow for not licking itself clean or against the good people of bnj for wearing blue (trust me much worse has happened on that site).

But i digress.

By the way good folks, this is our good friend Sheba. She's not lazy (i'm assuming it's a she), she's just fed- up that she keeps doing the same thing and doesnt get paid what she deserves. much like our writer friends over at NBC.

imagine trying to wash this cupcake eh friends at ben and jerry's!

anyway, now it's your turn to blog good people =]

nothing but hubris

2007-10-15T00:12:00.000+08:00

you see driving oneself on passion alone, though admirable, is not enough. it is within everyone's capacity to illustrate passion for a hobby or an activity, so passion has ceased to become a distinguishing element. after awhile, as age and wisdom wrinkles the eyes and creaks the bones, one will begin to realise that passion pivots itself on the idea of self; nothing more. hence to truly succeed and live life to the fullest, one has to go beyond passion and translate effort into help for others. that is to say, 'give back'.

what we are, and what we will become, has always been contingent on our environment. we are nothing more than victims of circumstance, hence we have to rise above such notions and contribute to the lives of others, effectively acknowledging that though we are but puppets in our theatre that we have the ability to free others from the strings that bind them. or at the very least, loosen the grip.

ergo we have to focus not on passion to quench our own dreams and aspirations, but passion to quench the dreams and aspirations of those around us. that is the hallmark of a true leader.

to fuel oneself on passion alone, is to be self- destructive. though even passion for others will eventually destroy us, we would have done that little bit before we perish. it is not about establishing a legacy to be feared and respected by generations after we have turned to dust, but to be an indelible memory in the lives of those generations. to not be a distant milestone, but a thread in their fabric.

we must all learn to fall, and to be crushed. to have all that we have stood for ridiculed and decimated. only then will we realise that it has never been about what we stand for; but about how we can stand together.

broken smile

2007-09-28T18:11:00.000+08:00

they've finally done it. they've killed me.

let's all go for arabian girls

2007-09-06T23:20:00.000+08:00

let's talk about the 2 concepts that have attached themselves to a quaint little corner of my mind. girls and bookstores. let's talk about girls first shall we.

somehow i've always found 2 groups of girls highly attractive, rafflesian girls and girls from scgs. this i must admit is a matter of personal predilection and not a definitive gauge representative of the martian population, a sort of personal taste if you may. adding to that of course is the fact that i am not attracted to ALL rafflesian girls or ALL scgs girls, but in a general feel across the board, girls from the aforementioned groups somehow and inevitably take the forefront when it comes to being noticed by yours truly. not only are they explicitly attractive and quietly seductive, they can be enchantingly witty too-- which mind you is a very potent cocktail. they hold conversations as exciting as they are significant and that air of unpredictability that peppers the conversations definitely is a plus point. i'm not going to come out and make rash declaration that "that it's in the water in those schools", but one has to admit that maybe-- and just maybe-- their schools have moulded them to be so. not in a manufacturing sense, but more of a lifestyle that is weaved into them from the start. but then again, i digress.

moving on to bookstores.

just like girls, all you want to do with bookstores is to be in them (basks momentarily in that glorious freudian moment). whenever i get a holiday, one way or another i would end up in some bookstore in some god forsaken place. but the feel of it all, is in one word-- captivating. though the argument against most singaporean bookstores-- particularly the retail giants like Kinokuniya or Borders-- would be the 'clinical' feel of their entire set- ups. how the books are manicured to their respective shelves so precisely that it pilfers any opportunity of adventure as one delves into the pastel sea of books. though no complaints would emanate from those who seek a prim and precise excursion into such bookstores, it is rather disappointing in a sense. how can we ever be sure of what book we want or could possibly be interested in? it is the pursuit of that raw feeling of discovery, as one chances upon a book far from sight yet one with the mind, that makes the journey into a bookstore all the more exciting.

i've always felt that buying a book is so much better than borrowing one from the library. that sense of ownership somehow creates an intangible and unbreakable bond between owner and book, like the sweet promises of an inamorata meant for her sexual master. in fact the entire process is rather sexual.

maybe i'll make my own library.

we can't all be smart now, can we?

2007-08-16T22:32:00.000+08:00

the days have been soaked in misery. i dont suppose there's any other way to phrase it really. august has been a tired month, weary and desolate, and such conditions arent ideal for optimism. isolation is definitely a choice, but how far can we isolate ourselves from all that we know? to tear ourselves from something that is both our world and dna, moulding and profiling us externally and from within. how much of our own fabric can we unravel?

i exaggerate of course, stretching descriptions and truth. but then again, exaggeration is the only pleasure left that we're allowed to savour.

i do realise that if i persist with these quasi- depressive posts, i'd be doing myself no favours. rather than turn this green monstrosity into a... monstrosity (work with me here), i shall attempt to instead write a quasi- intellectual post. to anyone who could possibly claim to even know me, they would know that i rate a quality essay as one that has an informed historical perspective to things. alas, the potent cocktail of national service and lack of time has greatly pilfered me of the ability to give the following essay any historical weightage. i of course, would be talking about the attack on religion in our day and age. or something like that.

after the catastrophic events of 9/11 in New York and the slew of bombings that affected both european and south east asian theatres, many have said that Islam is 'under attack'. religious fundamentalists use this claim as a rallying point to gravitate neutrals to their cause, further fuelling their misguided aims and to present an acceptable pretext for their unfortunate operations. neutrals would have inevitably realised that there is some element of truth in that statement, looking at the brouhaha that accompanied the prophet Muhammad caricature saga in europe, and what has increasingly become mass slaughter in Iraq. we have to understand that the complex perception of the masses cannot compute nor comprehend the nuances or circumstances of such situations, rather what they see is that their fellow muslims are being killed-- and the killers are the Western imperialists or 'white men' who are immediately and rather naively linked to christianity. the less informed have even suggested that the current war on terror is nothing more than the modern sequel of the crusades. the US obviously didnt help matters, but that of course is an issue for another day.

cutting the long story short, we can and should understand the way the majority of muslims are rationalizing the problem at hand. however for the purpose of initiating an intellectual discussion, i urge that we look beyond that and extrapolate what are and have been implicit benefits. although Islam is in a way 'under attack', this period of time also sees the globalization of Islam, or the evolution of Islam as a religion that permeates the mechanics of the modern world. in every tv station across the world, documentaries are being made regarding Islam so as to allow individuals of other faiths to understand the religion better and to realize that the masked hoodlums they see holding the AK- 47s on Al- Jazeera are not the actual spokespersons of the religion. this has inevitably led to the increase in awareness of the religion, not only for those of other faiths but also for muslims across the globe, as they reflect upon their beliefs and appreciate the realities of their religion. now through the mass media, even the most isolated farmers in corn fields of Iowa would have heard of Islam (something that would not have been as probable even despite the fact that Islam is the fastest growing religion in the US) or even through the picture of a certain Bin Laden that has become the latest fashion accessory on every dartboard in every bar in the US. intellectuals are delving deeper than ever into the study of Islam to solve the enigma of Islamist extremism, and this has also reaped benefits by paving the way for a modern and academic analysis of Islam.

beyond that, these incidents have forced the global community of muslims to rejuvenate the religion, to adapt it without distorting the core and fundamental pillars of the religion, to suit the increasingly globalized world. islamist extremism has forced Islam to make itself relevant, and this would undoubtedly benefit the religion and its legion of followers in the long run. they have also presented muslims with the challenge to live their religion and to display its beauty on the world stage. we have to propel ourselves above the chaos and and ultimately; be muslims. Islam and politics have always been intertwined, and extremism has always been a constant companion to both elements, thus it becomes not a matter of eradicating extremism but one of quelling it.

we also have to realise that this purported 'attack' is not simply exclusive to Islam alone. playing in the backdrop is the 'attack' on christianity. not by bombs or arms, but by ideas, philosophies and interestingly-- fiction. bestsellers like Harry Potter and The Da Vinci Code have threatened churches across the globe, enticing their followers with a fictional world that contradicts their religious beliefs ( this could of course be exclusive only to roman catholics, gotta check on that). churches have gone on the offensive, launching campaigns on a massive scale to urge their flock to spurn such works. though realistically these works would hardly even cause a dent in the whole scheme of things (god does work in mysterious ways), it is important for churches to establish their position against what one can perceive as the dilemmas of the 21st century.

other religions like sikhism and hinduism too are grappling with the challenges that are-- if we gear ourselves to accept such ineluctable realities-- a natural corollary of globalisation and modernisation. sikhs and hindus are forced to find an equilibrium between the colliding forces of religion and modernisation, to ensure relevance in this rapidly secular and unforgiving world. youths may find traditional beliefs outdated and incompatible with modern lifestlyes (largely influenced by the west of course) and may align themselves towards the latter and compromise their religious beliefs. the challenge thus becomes, how do they adapt themselves to the times?

although such problems may seem chronic at the moment, and may threaten to cleave the world's major religions right down the middle, they simultaneously force the same religions to be reflexive. indeed in the long run, hindsight may reveal that we are merely experiencing the essential trigger to a more peaceful future.

well i do realise that the quality is rather poor and the depth leaves much to be desired, but well i'm tired and i'm in camp, so deal with it!

on the shelf

2007-07-25T07:53:00.000+08:00

on the shelf

to live like a rag doll
tossed along days,
drowning in disposable dreams, and
fearing death who visits constantly like a friend
lovingly indelible in living memory.

Live! and die, alone; unknowing,
awaiting the supple touch of skin on loveless plastic.

I am as much rag as I am doll.

toyed by emotions and hollow-- where words
don’t fit and melt into eyes
that shine like mirrors--
shallow and reflective,
where you see nothing but yourselves.

I await an end that I do not want to meet,
a leap of faith into nothing but faith itself,
I fear death--
to leave my thoughts like a book

never to be read again.

--Imran July '07

the reality of sin

2007-07-25T07:42:00.000+08:00

it was good fun while it lasted i suppose, but pretty soon we're going to have to revert back to our brutish lives. its kinda amusing really, i dont think i would fit the personality profile of a manic depressive, but hey weirder things have happened; for example the tv show Lifeline.

i sorta find comfort in my room, this sanctuary that affords me the protection from everything else that is happening around-- albeit a messy sanctuary. there is something soothing in the mess that surrounds my bed, whispering in my ear constantly that there are no expectations; no demands. but being a recluse is hardly an option, though the grotto that is my messy room is definitely a tantalizing enclave. in response to this, i do believe that i'm starting to care little about what other people may say, or think for that matter. our actions have always been governed not by our sheer will, but by the expectations and demands of others around us, and the ability to pull myself away from this curse as we may have it, is simply liberating. but then again, how successful can any one ever be?

weekends are always welcomed, because it gives me the opportunity to turn to people. but on weekdays? my mind as a companion would suffice.

you will never be so lonely, till you tell yourself that you are.

2007-07-10T21:25:00.000+08:00

it seems that i do have a knack of letting my blog down. oh well, now that i've swept aside the cobwebs and godforsaken carcasses of god knows what off my blog, i think i might just do a bit more updating here. it is after all one of the few places i can safely embed my thoughts, with half of the world's population probably thinking that this site is dead.

all i can say, is that ns is slowly draining the life out of me. sometimes, i dont even recognise who the hell i am. flustered and bothered arent exactly the words people would use on me, but right about now, theyre an apt summary. i cant quite figure it out, but things are just depressing-- for the lack of a better term. no grand description of this state of affairs, just shell- like, barren, desolate, and skeletal would do.

god knows this isnt what i wanted.

sometimes in life, youre driven by one purpose or the other. you look forward to another day, full of anticipation for what awaits around the corner. but at other times, you just float along. purposeless. empty. its a dreadful feeling. hell, i cant even bluff myself with false motivations anymore. lets hope its just one of those random lull periods in life.

this is such an ugly post for some reason.

they say, that this is the period of time when you will rely on your friends the most. so its quite telling when i'm grappling with myself in this mutilating darkness.

i'm slowly dying i assure you; maybe i should beat it to that final twist of the knife.

training to be soldiers

2007-02-25T21:50:00.000+08:00

we the unwilling,
led by the incompetent
to do the unneccessary;
for the ungrateful.

haha i found this amusing little thing in scorpion coy's store, but really NS isn't all that bad. its quite fun actually, though that booking- in feeling still sucks big time. i've been too lazy to update, because i rather spend my time being engaged in more worldly activities that i have no access to whilst on tekong, but i promise to make up for it during block leave.

i'm quite cut- off from the going- ons taking place in the world-- and from many other people-- but i'm still alive and kicking (and trained to kill haha).

till next time. out-

syn.tax. goes regional. well goes malayan more like.

2006-12-14T22:51:00.000+08:00

apologies for the paucity of posts. in other news, while some people get to enjoy spain ( which apparently scared the pants off sylvia plath) and others got to enjoy the sun, sand, and the sea of pulau tekong ( free food and accomodations mind you) for 90 days and 90 nights; i shall embark on a round trip around malaysia! i shall scour the various states to trace my heritage and finally quell the age old 'Malay Question'.

in other words; i shall be binging my eyeballs out and doing other sinful things that i wouldn't normally have done. like shopping for example.

may god have mercy upon my soul.

there is a loneliness that can be rocked.

2006-11-27T00:08:00.000+08:00

the knowledge that is me.

In a drunken benediction
I stumbled across state lines and illuminated boundaries,
Over crippled fairy tales and anointed rape,
In smug knowingness
Of killing the world in a word; and fucking minds where the ink
-- dries.

I stumbled with blinkless eyes
Down the road to where the dashed lines fearfully stopped,
An unknown that beckoned;
Though it were from within.

Phantom footfalls mockingly shadowed
The edge of my thoughts, as
Longing screams cradled my daylights
And silenced my nights.

In the darkness that spawned
The infidelity of minds,
And washed your outline to gray;

I stand rooted

Unsure, unknowing, unaware;
Of the next footstep
Of the next hope
Of the next corruption

as I rang the sky with my strangled cry.

a night at the opera

2006-11-23T02:20:00.000+08:00

The Bone Fire

the tribal drums
wail
to honour their
gyrating gods.

more religious
than
religion, desperation
celebrates this

trance of
hue and heroes
drenched in
tequila.

flesh on flesh
as soul
gulps for unsoiled
innocence.

nuns of
indonesian air,
worshipping a world
clear as smog.

impotent hunters
with blunt
spears for
heads

lay
broken traps
for
willing

prey.

this is the stench of humanity.

randomness

2006-10-13T23:54:00.001+08:00

well school's officially over. would do up a proper post on that soon. so i guess the struggle's on right now, much to my displeasure. i cant seem to kick the habit of being self- destructive. oh well.

for now, that's all folks.

syn.tax., channel axe the axiom; singapore.

randomness

2006-10-13T23:54:00.000+08:00

poem.

2006-10-09T23:07:00.000+08:00

Bright Shadows

You set my head on fire.
Like a fat orange caterpillar, it devours
Every inch of my wick,
And as though fatigued by indigestion;
It perspires.
Beads of solid sweat trickle
Down
My Erection,
Like fertile semen caressing a cold penis,
Only to create ugly babies at its feet.
Time guarantees a smoky demise,
And a hazy reminder of black cotton
To greet the end of my function.
The wax rests; here.

- October 2006

boredom

2006-10-07T23:21:00.000+08:00

i feel so terribly lazy. its not just the 'i-dont-want-to-mug' kind of laziness, rather its the 'i-dont-want-to-do-anything' kind. msn's been pretty dead lately, and that doesnt help things.

it's taken me 18 whole years to realise; i have no life.

decorum

2006-10-03T22:22:00.000+08:00

it is almost impossible to change an entrenched mind- set. once you think that you've figured out a person, his habits and his personality, that perspective more or less remains; unchangeable. its so ridiculously easy to place a person under a set category or classification, where once he displays a certain peculiarity or fulfills a certain prerequisite let's say, off he is whisked to a specific grouping. class joker. the smart one. the annoying one. the list goes on really.

people like to claim they know things about other people, don't get me wrong, they have all the right to do so. but the thing is, its all so darn silly. and what's more incredulous, is that no matter how much we try to say that we are not of these 'people'-- which is in itself a claim-- we are all equally guilty of it. how many times have we seen people put down others like michael jackson for example, for being 'weird'? or robbie williams for being 'gay' (i'm not saying that its a negative, but realistically, there are bigots out there who regard it as a derogatory statement)? plenty really, and more often than not, these people arent in a position to make such calls to begin with. it all just makes life that much more unpleasant.

i've long moved from desiring the ability to actively change people's mind- sets; its an impossible dream. its pure folly, and it's made all that much harder for one who is himself a victim of 'set perceptions'. what more, any such change can only begin from within; when a quiet, calming, wise and yet sad awareness or spirit awakens deep down inside.

some might dismiss this rant without giving a second thought to it, others may adopt a different stand and regard this entry as little more than a simple commentary laced with paranoia, why some kinder souls may not even bother to read it through. in the arrogance of its verbosity, this entry would have done little to make any impact or set thoughts stirring. why the provenance itself might shoulder some of such glorified responsibility too. but it matters little, for i have nothing to prove.

man is by nature wary of what is said, and more wary of what is not said. instinct some call it, nothing but pure instinct. if you're confused by now, and wondering what this entry is trying to get at; i have only one thing to say...

you be the judge.

sing fat lady, sing!!

2006-10-02T21:59:00.000+08:00

a deceptive lull has has fallen over my days, and like a big fat old lady with inertia scratched on her bones; it seems unmoveable. every bit of me that is rational and logical is pleading for the overthrow of such sloth, but we all know how the script goes.

i would love to label it as the teenage dilemma, but a quick glance at other people (when i say this, i mean non A53 people) would be enough for one to ascertain that this 'dilemma' is unnervingly localized and scarily specific. not convinced? a recent medical survey has proven that 65% more VJ students would complain about stiff necks and other complications around this time of year due to hours of craning their necks over notes. in fact i fall under that particular 65% too, though i think mine is a result of denys being a pain in the neck more than mugging.

amidst all the statistics and figures, it occured to me that my dear classmate daryl would lodge his own complaint to the surveyors without batting an eyelid, though his would be a special case of 'pain in the foot'. but then again, daryl has had a foot injury since bismarck was appointed chancellor, so he might not count.

as the days wind down to the official end of jc life, and as each day becomes more treasured for its little memories, i always tell myself that i've been part of something really special these past 2 years. i mean hey, when you're in A53, and when the whole class just walks out of school in full knowledge that an econs lecture is about to start in 5 mins; you know you're part of something particularly special.

but then again, it was econs lecture and the last time we had a full attendance for that was when daryl had his first foot injury. and we all know how recent that was.

tiresome

2006-09-30T22:56:00.000+08:00

after writing personal statement after personal statement, one gets pretty sick of typing out things. thus i do sincerely apologise for not updating more often.

at any rate, i hereby declare jon stewart as my idol and his daily show as the best 'talkshow' in the US. right on its heels would be david letterman of course.

so there you have it! the axiom has just endorsed its first show, and i rightly crown stewart as the funniest smart man on tv-

its your move

2006-09-27T22:42:00.000+08:00

when we were young, we were taught the alphabets. then with the raw eagerness of youth, we strung them together and assigned them to everything around us to cushion and rationalize our existence. human constructs meant to fashion other constructs in our world, to blasphemeis fear and breed solace in our earthly grotto.

then like a sickly tune of a care- worn carousel; it is our turn to be fashioned with alphabets. the definers defined and assigned their worth, blurring the lines between construct and man.

it is a wicked a game, yet one that has to be played. like pawns too paralyzed to move having caught the scent of the bishop's hunger, we are forced upon our squares. a to c. 1 to 3.

good luck people.

mirror mirror, who is the black sheep?

2006-09-26T23:14:00.000+08:00

a blog is hardly the place to exhibit emotions.

one always tries to do too much. change the world they say. the movie the hours set me off thinking quite a lot really; which reminds me, i would like to thank sulas because it really is a good a movie, very thought provoking. but how can one even hope to change the world when everything is so complex, so brutal, and so impossible?

there as so many things that i want to say, so many things that i want to do and so many things that i want to find out, but each seems as impossible as the next. we always have a mental image of what we intend to do or say, but it always turns out far less than what it was meant to be.

i am trapped by my words, restrained by their turn, their many faces and their melody, a delicately solemn dance that i helplessly succumb to. yet, my words fail me when i do try to wield them. the paradox of true cowardice they say.

maybe we shouldnt try too hard. life and her bleating masses scarcely reward blatant effort. to attempt to roar amongst the asphyxiation of wool, is merely fancy fatalism.

let the bleating begin...they say.

told you so

2006-09-25T22:14:00.001+08:00

long entries can be such a tiresome read, hence i shall spare people further agony. as many would know by now, hady mirza won. as much as people clamour for the proverbial x- factor-- which by the way isn't something that a person has in my opinion or is able to cultivate, but an amorphous concept that emanates from the people who receive the individual; this perception-- i do think that an idol of a singing competition should at the least be able to sing. something that only one of them could do, again my own opinion. i was just hoping for a shot of dick, florence and jacintha once the results were announced. having prematurely crowned jonathan their 'idol', one would love to see how they reacted.

their hyperbole and jonathan's boot- licking with the constant stress on how he was proud to sing a local song; a choice that was supposed to breed sympathy maybe, was starting to get on my nerves.

anyway, the next time someone arranges two 's' papers on the same day, i will personally hunt the person down and stuff the whole stack of VJC paper down his/ her throat.

for now, i want to grow long hair and my 'x- factor'.

money or life? would you like fries with that?

2006-09-23T23:12:00.000+08:00

well i'm in a desperate need for a break right about now, its been one hell of a rush-- much apppreciated no less-- but i've reached that point where i'm yearning for some rest- time. but then again, its not much of a rest time when you think about it, considering the bunch of us will only be getting the grace period of what? 3 days? barely enough to recharge our batteries.

there's something that has been festering at the back of my mind these past few days, haunting thoughts that i wish would leave me alone; but this embryonic dilemma that has housed itself in my own deep- seated insecurities would scarcely flutter away so suddenly and so graciously. not without justifying its parasitic nature.

in other news, i really dont understand the recent wave of discontent targeted at the teenybopper influence over idol voting patterns. true, the phenomena itself robbed certain 'more talented' contestants of extended airtime on the show, but it would be postponing the inevitable for a while more only anyway. these people either didnt have the appeal or the musical talent to warrant 'staying power', and if we're being brutally honest, talent would at the end of the day prevail no matter what-- safely assuming sylvester sim as an anomaly of course. moreover, these teenyboppers are the very people who will drive the careers of these 'idols' through album sales anyway.

the people complaining about the competition being the search for the 'idol for adolescent girls' are completely misguided in this respect. if one didnt bother to vote-- mind you, many people just watched without voting, me included-- enough to extend the idol's proverbial visa extension on the show, what are the chances of these very people buying their albums? highly unlikely. instead, i think file sharing programmes would see a flurry of singaporeans scrambling for the singles online.

i should seriously stop blogging about idol, but with so many of my classmates giving shows like rockstar supernova more than enough attention, i just thought that a local flavour to my entries would be the remedy any doctor would rightly approve.

back to pummeling my brain now.

an idol named larry

2006-09-21T23:33:00.000+08:00

there's been word about the posssile cancellation of the singapore idol franchise, which as expected, garnered a few approving nods from some sectors of the public. but personally, i do think that it'd be the biggest mistake mediacorp would ever make since they let joakim pass through the audition round (this is purely my own personal opinion and may not neccessarily portray his actual musical abilities, which if god or divine equivalent that you may believe in has afforded you a decent pair of ears, would allow you to discern for yourself and cringe in sheer pain).

there's been talk about the mediocre quality of musical talent on show this year and ultimately the dip in viewership, which as we all know dictates the world of television-- though the presence of my sassy neighbour in a prime- time slot casts a high degree of doubt on this. not surprisingly, one of the more outspoken and illustrious proponents of such a cancellation is no other than maia lee, a singapore idol contestant herself, who without batting an eyelid slams the show that propelled her into her relative and obscure "stardom", and cites the lack of musical talent as an iron- clad justification to wrench the franchise off national television-- all the while oblivious to the screams of judas across the island. following up on her little 'comment', and to milk the limelight for all its worth, she reflects on her own 'raw' performances in season 1-- an over- statement no less-- and remarks how the current crop of contestants are 'worse'.

setting aside the shock of reading her comments that, without a doubt, reeked of sour- grapes and ungratefulness, its rather amusing how she rates herself as 'raw' and deems this year's contestants to be 'worse'. far as i can remember, she sounded like a cow who sucked in too much helium, which was as 'raw' as she ever got, and to be perfectly honest, its a virtual impossibility to be 'worse'. the way she went about in season 1, she would hardly even get to be featured on donny & marie. why the new paper would consider maia's thoughts as an 'expert opinion' on the matter still baffles me. the only reason i can think of is that the publisher had too much too drink the night before, but in all honesty, even being that tipsy would not let any man with common sense commit such a gross mistake. she was obviously trying to touch up on her 'bad- ass' image by 'putting it to the man' and blasting idol.

what these top honchos have to realise, is that the fate of the idol franchise shouldnt rest on factors like viewership or such 'expert opinions' alone. true, the quality of musical talents that was on show this year may have not been as stellar as was expected. true, there was no way in hell the idol contestants could match the vocals of the 'rockstars' of supernova fame that was featured on star world at the same time. true, joakim gomez needs more than a vocal coach-- he needs a team. true, gurmit is balding. but idol is more than just mere numbers and statistics.

its a platform for aspiring local musicians to exhibit their talents and show to the nation what theyre made of. the idol phehomena with the mass publicity that it generates is a crucial element that is sorely needed by these individuals. its the proverbial 'leg- up' that so many of them need. nowhere else, would they be afforded hundreds of thousands of spectators that would for that precious few moments listen intently to every word of theirs and witness their musical prowess. what would they have? a club full of 40 people? an outdoor venue with 200? not only that, it also rejuvenates the flagging local music industry by showing the people that there are people on this island that can sing, that there are hadys and jonathans and joakims hidden amongst us.

what more, nothing is more beautiful than seeing the average heartlander, truly connecting to the 'idol' on show, an idol that one is familiar with and one that gives form to the wildest aspirations of the average singaporean. more than just clamouring for a far- away musician on foreign shores, the raw appeal of idol is that it gives us singaporeans a source of pride that we can call our own, more than anything else. and to cancel out such hopes and dreams of a people who all this while has been treated to mindless fodder on our screens would be nothing short of treachery.

and hey, it shows that there is no 'climate of fear' once it comes to voting after all.

like licorice mice

2006-09-19T13:46:00.000+08:00

i'm rather sorry about the dearth of posts on this blog, but trying to squeeze in time to blog between the mad mugging rush before the papers is starting to be as difficult as getting a 1 ton elephant into pink tights. there's a lot of stuff to talk about actually, with all the brouhaha that's been happening on our sunny little island, but i'll get to that once i'm over this daze and when i've retrieved my eyeballs that i've apparently lost in the mountain of notes.

i've also learnt what true pleasure is; it's being able to pee after a 3hr history paper.

pure bliss i tell you.

hohoho merry prelims

2006-09-11T00:20:00.000+08:00

my brain has reached its saturation point. thank god prelims are here. i cant stuff anything else into my brain anymore. best if i just get over the damn thing, recharge and then go full steam for the A levels.

i'm just wondering what devilish machination awaits me at the turn of the week.

anyway, i just found out how refreshing a run can be to empty one's mind and relax. usually i would resort to my 'opium' (the xbox no less), but like any other addiction i now require a higher dosage of it to feel the same 'kick', and looking at how i have this little thing called 'prelims' in 2 days, i just cant afford a marathon. but a run fit the bill nicely, and i guess i killed 2 birds with one stone, i managed to jiggle off the extra kilos i may have added over the past week or so.

in other news, i like to break convention whenever i do certain things. and instead of wishing people good luck and in the same vein suggest that an individual requires divine intervention in order to do well, undermining all the effort she/ he has channeled to mugging, i shall instead urge my friends- in- arms to go into the exam hall and do themselves justice.

rock on my friends; for tonite we shall roll to the guitar bite.

ade- your- bayor

2006-09-10T00:05:00.000+08:00

i'm starting to get really frustrated watching arsenal play nowadays. something's gone horribly wrong with the team that was feared throughout europe as "the invincibles", having gone through an entire season unbeaten. somehow, the incisiveness that was a natural complement of their crisp passing game has been nothing short of elusive, and not to mention, that slick passing game too is starting to slowly fade away. looking at the amount of backpasses that were being sprayed around in the middlesbrough game, i honestly thought that i was watching watford play instead. someone needs to rise to occasion, grab the game by its jockstraps and just go for goal. here's hoping that it's merely a temporary problem.

i'm also starting to think that my brother is slowly turning into a football hooligan. being an ardent liverpool fan, he was constantly saying how he would love to throw 'a boot with metal studs' at andrew johnson's 'shiny bald head' and see how he 'would like it'. well if such a tirade doesnt offer justification for my niggling suspicions, i dont know what will.

straying off the football talk for awhile, for the sake of my legion of adoring female fans that might not like football that much no less, i'm absolutely gobsmacked by how the days seem to be getting shorter and shorter and passing by so quickly. i'm amazed at how one moment it would be 10 am and the next, without feeling the hours that such a leap naturally demands, it'd be 6 pm. as i then turn my attention to the copy of the glass menagerie on my table, i'd see that i covered an almighty 4 pages! how's that for progress!

i would then proceed to try and roll back any ill consequences by rushing through my work in the next few hours, before realising-- at long last-- that my brain would flatly refuse to indulge in any intellectual activity after 10pm. after which, i would then indulge in what has apparently become my new favourite past time-- wall watching.

i was thinking of writing another poem actually, but if i did, it would subconciously illustrate the fact that i spend too much time on this little rag page, trying to entertain all 1 of my readers that actually visit this green abomination. thus in the pursuit of satisfying my deep seated insecurities on whether i manage my time well, i shall banish my poetic thirst to the back of my mind-- or significant equivalent-- till the end of prelims. pity though, i quite liked the poem that was bubbling in my head.

since i started off talking about football, i shall try to end with it as well.

i want cesc fabregas' hairstyle.

syn.tax. error

2006-09-09T00:30:00.000+08:00

i honestly wish that i could write better. i look around me and i see so many people churning out delectable prose that one can do nothing but savour; one tantalising morsel at a time. in stark contrast, here i am belabouring over my staggered chunks, helplessly trying to string my words together for the sake of coherence.

what would really really really make my day, is if i could write a piece that can truly capture the essence of sorrow. that one piece, that would move people to tears as they gobble up each word as though it was the last and then clamour for more, and at the end of it, be completely stunned at how the last few minutes of their lives have been irrevocably shaken by an article or a story that was essentially mind- blowing.

anyway the econs ten year series book is a sham. some of the answers are horribly wrong! but that's not the worst bit. i mean, if it was just wrong, that's fine. no harm done. but thing is, they tend to repeat the questions and each and every time the answers would contradict! how confusing is that! i have half a mind to throw that book into my washing machine and laugh that evil laughter of mine as i watch it toss and tumble (this shows i've been home too long. hell my worst torture method involves a household appliance).

well what can i say; i'm your typical heartlander who thrives in the bowels of suburbia.

and this is how the cookie crumbles

2006-09-08T00:33:00.000+08:00

i officially declare that chaucer is a bitch to mug. but then again, its not as though we all have much of a choice. i suppose chaucer's canterbury tales can be a joy to read, but we would have to first assume that there is nothing else in the world to do and that all other books have been burnt to a crisp. once you do that, let the fun begin i say.

i'm about as excited as a nun in an orgy about the upcoming prelims. but hey, besides the tiny little fact that i havent finished my revision, i'm all ready and raring to go! just wind me up and watch me pitter patter to the promised land.

anyway, i'm rather amused by how all these fan girls start to cry whenever their 'idols' land up in the bottom 2 or 3 or something. and thing is, theyre the SAME girls over the past few weeks. the way theyre crying, one would think that someone told these people that gurmit singh was balding or something. well he is if you think about it, but that's not the point. i mean hell, i can understand how they may like the particular 'idol', but its not as though the fella is going be sent to some random beach to be shot. there's really no need to cry a bucket- full of tears for the fella. even if they win, its not as though you're going to share to spoils of the victory. most likely, he's going to end up with a big fat juicy contract and his first album will go multi- platinum. after which, frequent downloading through kazaa, limewire and other file- sharing softwares will reduce the much loved 'idol' to doing guest appearances on my sassy neighbour.

and if you think real hard about it, these buggers are not so different from the rest of us. i mean hell, not too long ago they too were probably screaming for their own respective 'idols' belting out ballads on that very same stage.

i would love to do a long comprehensive piece on this whole singapore idol phenomenon, but its getting late and late nights dont do wonders to relieve eyebags!

oh for the record, i'm rooting for hady-

if i could twirl the moon between my fingers...

2006-09-06T23:53:00.000+08:00

one just can't imagine how incredibly boring and taxing mugging can get, what more if stretched for hours at an end. but i guess its times like these, when we're putting our minds through the paces and cramming in information that would undoubtedly be enjoyable if not for the tight time constraints, that we truly enjoy the little things in life. like you know, space, wind, air and sunlight. especially if one has been cooped up in a small study for the past week or so. it wouldnt be so bad if i actually DID lots of work, thing is i just sit and stare at the musky green walls.

what i wouldnt give to just bum around outside and engage in inconsequential light- hearted conversations with other people. right about now, the most intellectual discussion i've had in 2 weeks would be the discussion that i had with my brother on how to make sure birds dont poop in our kitchen. coming in a close second would be the discussion on who deserved to use the xbox. how riveting.

in the hours i spend trying to will the inky words on the econs notes to form eye- catching shapes and patterns is when reality hits home the hardest. the reality, that we are all nothing but hushed pauses in the spiel of time.

how riveting.

fools

2006-09-06T00:06:00.000+08:00

the school system can be rather debilitating at times. but the worst thing about it, is the symptomatic delusion that seems to infect every student that this concept of 'school' cocoons.

isolated from reality, save for the sporadic moments when words in books and notes paints its colourful likeness, the 'school' landscape would be the only environment that most students would be familiar with. the only 'rat- race' that they would know whilst entrapped in the indignity of school uniforms would be the race for grades. thus, its no wonder that so many students inevitably develop this 'ultra-ego' that incessantly overstates their true worth.

look around you and without a doubt you'll be able to spot such students, coming from the upper echelons of academia no less, weaving what they deem to be beautiful prose to clothe their psuedo- intellectual commentary on things beyond their grasp. driven by what they call 'teen- angst', an element that supposedly commands justification and credibility in itself, they lash out on everything under the sun, undeniably thinking all the while that their 'intellect' somehow elevates them above the hoi polloi. 'deep' thoughts, extensive vocabulary and 'wit' become the sine qua non of such characters. my personal favourite however, remains those who pen out quasi- poetic commentaries, thinking that such mysticism somehow adds to the significance of their respective claims. how cute.

what they fail to realise, these bumbling buffoons who think so highly of themselves, is that their little exclamations and 'school- reps' mean nothing. nada. zilch. no matter how big one may deem oneself to be in the confinements of 'school', once you step outside of those pearly white gates of learning, everyone begins at the most basic level. you're nothing. there's this whole huge system ahead of you that's constantly trying to drive you into the ground, and you have to slug your life away to find a nice snug place for you within in the system itself, before you join in the imbroglio and drive another poor sod into the ground yourself.

its laughable really how so many people think they're above the system. but i'm not saying that the exceptions don't exist. quite the contrary. the only difference is, these people don't think they're above the system; they know they're above the system. and once they know themselves truly, they would know how to work themselves up, and just enjoy the scene of fools driving other fools into the ground.

on a lighter note, i really want to catch the highly acclaimed local show "singapore dreaming". but damn, i'm really behind schedule with my mugging and i still haven't started on lit.

oh well, at least i'm not one of those poor sods who put on unneccesary airs.

p.s. i know the whole entry reeks of irony, but if you're smart enough, you'll get the point.

September.

2006-09-04T20:08:00.000+08:00

i cant really help it if my posts have been a tad mundane, nothing interesting has been happening around here! well that's obviously discounting the little incident where my brother "accidentally" kneed my nose and it started bleeding profusely. i said "accidentally" because i'm pretty sure he was aiming for a part of my anatomy, though not with the intent to cause bodily harm of course. i think. anyway, my nose started bleeding again while i was on my way back home from the hair salon. all the aunties gave me that frightened look while i walked by them, possibly wondering who this handsome wounded warrior might be. well its either that, or they might've thought that i was one of those mat gangsters who got into a fight-- i shall go with the former though, sounds more possible. people have said that i resembled legolas from time to time *nods knowingly*.

anyway, prelims are about a week away. i think. its quite scary though, not just the fact that the second most important examinations of the year is just around the corner, but that my classmates have been so hard at work! hell, some are starting to draw econs graphs in the air while drinking coffee at starbucks and others, well they've resorted to climbing the school building just to get places to mug! such blasphemy! at this rate, i'm gonna sit snugly in last place for most of the subjects. well, that's if i'm lucky anyway.

at any rate, i havent started lit yet and well i've more or less resigned myself to the fact that i will be sitting for the papers without having re- read the books. that would be fun. i just hope i dont mix up the characters and have tom in the country wife or horner as some hughes' metaphor, or worse still, invent new characters. on second thoughts, throwing in characters called bertrand and denys might actually jazz up beloved a bit. the novel could use some more trees in the background.

for now, i shall track down fashion gurus like andrea, nicola & sulas to rid myself of dastardly eyebags!

woe is me

2006-09-03T12:52:00.000+08:00

i am so confused. university and scholarship applications are so messy. god, i should have just applied for my universities before, then i wouldnt be in such a fix. i need to talk to people who know this shit man and not just poseur wannabes.

here's hoping that i havent screwed myself over too badly with my decisions-

humdums

2006-09-01T16:32:00.000+08:00

there's nothing much to say is there? i merely exist, like a repugnant thought that sits snugly at the back of one's mind, refusing to exit with the grace and dignity that its nebulous form demands and blatantly ignoring the inevitability of demise that unfolds before its very eyes; life essence slipping through the cracks of its stubby fingers.

the susurrus of a fading existence.

of long hair and gp papers.

2006-08-28T17:34:00.000+08:00

god. i think the way rules are being enforced in our school is simply ridiculous. plainly speaking, i'm not a rebel who intentionally goes out to break every single rule in the book (i have my classmates for that) though i do bend a few rules from time to time. in this case, its the rule about long hair. i know that i have long hair, and i know that i have to go and get it cut. but oh my fuck, it's so pointless to go cut my hair when i'm only coming to school once in 2 weeks! by the time i'm back, my hair would have grown long again! what is the point of wasting fifteen bucks on doing something so brainless and pointless. what's worse, was that the teacher sent me OUT of school and prohibited me from using the damn school gym! now where's the sense in that? he absolutely refused to listen to my perfectly logical reasoning and flatly drove me out. what a pity. in an education system where students are taught to discern for themselves, the very same students are disallowed from applying such skills in daily life. what a pity. can't really blame the teacher in mention though, must be hard to come up with things to do especially considering that this teacher's job is capped by its sheer uselessness.

on another note, gp went as i predicted. i'm barely going to scrape a B. this time though, i'm waiting to see what kind of marks i'm going to get for my essay. well any essay that begins with, " greatness is the name written at the top of this paper" is bound to breed much anticipation. as for my compre, well let's just say that my marker is going to think that i wrote my application question in greek. it was that bad.

if i get fat and unhealthy and if all my arteries get choked up with copious amounts of fat and blubber, i shall look back upon this day, the 28th of August 2006, and blame the teacher who stopped me from using the gym. hah! may the guilt cause the-teacher-who-must-not-be-named many sleepless nights!

delayed post-

2006-08-28T17:30:00.000+08:00

well let's see. the weekend's over, and i've not had my haircut nor have i started on the mock epic. so much for my weekend's itinery. its rather frustrating come to think of it, i'd start a day with all these plans and at the end of the day i would only have completed a quarter of it. roar.

same applies for my readings actually. well not like school notes and stuff, but you know, books in general. so many open books and unread pages. and instead of finishing them all, here i am planning to buy more books! but you can't really blame me. kino has this delectable array of new books by chomsky and fukuyama. what else, i have my eye on this stiglitz book and the friedman book ah ho has been going on and on about. as usual though, i bet i'm going to buy these book and instead of reading them, i'd be stuck on the xbox playing winning 11 (god's gift to men. well after fiona xie and denys rodney tan).

by the way, tomorrow marks the start of the highly anticipated preliminary examinations (best blockbuster this fall! - chicago times) , and in typical fashion i think i'm gonna barely scrape a B for it. well that's if i'm lucky. i'm betting one of these days, one of the markers will realise that i've written crap and all my examples have been cooked up. my, i'd be lucky to escape with an F after that i tell you.

i shall try to push my luck tomorrow, and insert some jokes into my essay. after which, i'm going to pray that the marker has a sense of humour. either that, or i get awarded bonus marks for my dashing wit and boyish charm (its true! - chicago times). well that's all for today-

may god have mercy on our souls. discuss.

the adams family

2006-08-26T00:15:00.000+08:00

shall try my hand at a mock epic over the weekend, dont know how it'll turn out though. rite about now, that fuzzy wuzzy inspiration that always hits me (at the most awkward of times mind you) hasn't really kicked in yet. anyway was looking through some of the crap that i wrote in sec school and god, it was so funny how i tried so hard to imitate the petrarchan style of poetry. the metaphors were so belaboured and obtuse and essentially, i didn't really make much poetic sense. tenses were all over the place, grammar was so screwed up, poet was so handsome, you know all the usual stuff. sigh, guess some things just never change--

anyway by the power of the Tan, i must now go and snip off my precious locks. and here i was thinking that i could have gotten away with it till like next year or something. such a pity though, i like the way my hair is right now. its all long, thick and fluffy and its a pleasant distraction from the harsh reality that i have a hereditary problem of male pattern balding in my family. imagine that! me with this huge bald spot on my head. now that would be one hell of a sight.

though, i'd still pay lots of money to see divyesh as a skin head. he would honestly look like fester adams from the adams family. tell you what, now THAT would be one hell of a sight.

colour me pretty-

2006-08-24T23:04:00.003+08:00

people always ask me why i like to sing. sometimes, they ask me why i sing the songs i sing. at other times, they just ask me to shut the hell up.

i guess, singing is like an outlet of sorts for me. whenever i'm just sitting down and doing nothing, i'd just burst into some random song. usually, it'd be a sinatra or a martin but if i'm in the mood, something more modern i.e. a buble haha. but seriously, when you sing, you just feel so enlightened, so free, so light, so you. its as though all your troubles and worries rise along with the notes, slide through the air and just evaporate. back to the nothingness that it came from. then slowly, as the final note of the song too echoes its last breath, the troubles and worries slowly pile up again. que sera sera.

the african americans used to sing their blues away back in the days of slavery. singing their thanks for life, or maybe just singing to court death. it just makes so much sense. though i admit, i am a but a poor comparison, it all just makes so much sense. in a world, where a true word is a sacred yet shunned commodity, where the revelation of feelings is an act tantamount to suicide, where one knows not where to turn to or to confide in, where one knows that the only solution; that is to let thoughts and emotions fester within, is a self destructive addiction, where one knows that the only way to live, is to be smart, there will always be times when that sword and shield would be too heavy a burden. at those times, all we can do is to find that quiet spot within ourselves and sing our blues away.

we will always be on our guard; sword and shield. but for that few minutes when our soul weeps or cheers, the world becomes a much more wonderful place. one where intent, malice, sorrow, joy, and people are not concerns, but words that flow in a melody. the world then exists in lyrics and tune.

what am i trying to get at here? well, nothing really. just thought it'd type out something as i croon to sinatra's 'my way'.

i faced them all and i stood tall, and did it my way--

simmering like a pot of stew-

2006-08-24T15:30:00.000+08:00

if there's one thing that i hate, its incompetency. specifically, my own incompetency.

i dont really give a fuck what people think. i set my own standards, and if i think i failed, means i did. no two ways about it. having been vilified by the national press when i was in sec school taught me enough not to care about what people say, and hell, people spin untruths half the time anyway.

i hate proving people right. what got to me was not the smirks that whispered "told you he cant do it", but that i knew they were right. deep down, i knew that my inadequacy was for all to see. disgusting.

if there's something else i picked up in life, its never to reveal your emotions. so before i say too much, i shall end this little rant.

mark it.

magic johnson & johnson

2006-08-23T00:13:00.000+08:00

enough of poetry, though i must admit the last one got me pretty excited. anyway, i hereby declare that i am a basketball GOD. that's right, it seems that i have all the makings of an all time great. in fact, i'm all set for the NBA. a tad unpolished, but hey that can be worked out. all i need to do now is learn how to shoot, pass, block, steal, dribble and not make a fool of myself and poof i'll be playing ball with people like dwayne wade and mcgrady! give me a few years and who knows, they might call me the new royal airness! hell, theyre already calling me his airness now looking at all the air balls i shoot from 2 feet away.

jordan eat your heart out-

at a glance

2006-08-22T23:25:00.000+08:00

Child’s Play

will someone please replace the batteries in my
halo?
its fluorescent glow seems to have worn off-

its light no longer shelters the dark flower
that blossoms on the spleen; slow conclusive growth
whose leaves reach out for the heart and blankets it like
a thick, hot, green quilt. unfortunate union-

or machiavellian matrimony, they say,
that with the subtlety of words too brittle for
sunlight,
the herd is coaxed to bleat in unison;
manufactured thaumaturgy.

sad though, that a child’s disposition would
rattle earth and sky and force wisdom to
a muzzled jamboree. one,
where castratos mourn memories of imagined
inamoratas.

let shy ambers choke through the night,
as the world awakes to hell in the morn.

the halo burns bright again-
smile wide for the camera.

much ado about mugging

2006-08-20T23:38:00.000+08:00

it starts with A

like a wheel that turns with the predictability
of a singpost- postman,
our turn comes, again, at the end of a revolution,
face- first into gravel; groaning under newtons,

slipping through cracks of white, emblazoned
with words; dates; numbers; terms; logic
that jump at you from every page that greets
like a humbled doorman, then
cling to slivers of brain matter, like
an abandoned mistress;
too old to fuck

yet not old enough to win this race of
alphabets, too important in signifying
nothing at all-

as necks crane and bathe in arthritis, we question
the questions that stream like tears
from nowhere; as leisure slowly wilts like a wintery
flower
in singapore’s botanical misery.

i crave laminated and embalmed glory. don’t we all?

ooh i like this one-

2006-08-20T01:35:00.000+08:00

cupid’s call

cupid gulps down a bottle of beer; idle fat man
dead to the world and drowned
in bitter fermentation.

she pleads ‘hello’ from a nothingness that
demands
shape and form; 2 eyes;
mouth; nose; long hair that
cascades with the elegance of falling water,
bitter with reality-

familiar, sweet stranger who waits like
a prophecy, shaping a promise with her lips
that no prophet will deliver; fat man

waiting, like a wizened fetus for a delivery that
courts the scorn of light- and a slap on the buttocks.
juvenile hopes, driven like a bus by an old lady
to nowhere in particular,
a predilection for a passenger that stops more than a double- decker.

my heart ticks like a clock, staggering
under influence.
pass the bottle-

i was bored

2006-08-19T00:32:00.000+08:00

Night Terrors

when the night beckons, and the darkness
coaxes our eyes to a blinding submission
like an annoying, monotonous habit;
reality giggles and wails, hanging on to the vulva; dearly.
enchanting new birth- serenaded by fallacies
as lyrical as ghazals, Man knew no better.

bermimpi, the malays say-
a word as soft and light as its tongue
that knew no better than itself; lost in translation
and sense.
cocooned in its saliva of delusion, we taste the asphyxiation
with our eyes, and see untold prophecies that do little
than giggle; dearly.

a flurry of light and sound; that travels
no further than Venus’ trap, we toss turn tremble
at the mercy of our simulacrum-

i am no prelapsarian warrior. i grow tiresome too.

i need to mug. badly.

2006-08-18T23:31:00.000+08:00

my handphone sits there, like a still- born cadaver, breeding expectations that know nothing but its own faded outlines.

i dont even know what i'm waiting for actually-

back in the world of the living, i'm just bumming around and being surprised by the fact that anxiety and stress hasn't come knocking on my door yet. its interesting really, i'm unnaturally calm. too calm some might say. just to correct certain misconceptions, its not that i'm so confident of myself or that i've mugged everything 10 times over or something, its just that the reality of prelims being just 23 days away or that the much anticipated As are a mere 63 days away hasnt really hit home yet. funny, no?

been reading a bit here and there, but that's about it. lit and history remain untouched and i've barely made headway into econs. but it's all good. i should think that i would be able to pick things up soon- i hope. in some ways, i think that being calm and unstressed is a good thing. no point rushing and panicking and ultimately not absorbing anything. anyway, i'm just gonna go out there and just have fun with the papers. i guess its a gamble but hey, what's life without its little calculated gambles here and there.

anyway, i wanna see how long i can get away with having this long mop on my head. my bet is, i'd be able to go all the way till after prelims and after which, mr tan and his minions would come a- chasing with their mini hatchets (sponsored by adidas no less).

oh one bad thing, i think i've been eating too much! its a tragedy i tell you. right about now, i look like an obese civet cat on weed who's bursting out of its uniform. pretty soon i'll get so big that i would ably satisfy the libido of a blue whale, and not long after that, i would be as big as bertrand (gasps!).

well that's about it, i need to get back to work. this dastardly thing called the origins of the cold war just brandished it own mini hatchet, so gotta run-

bugger king

2006-08-18T00:28:00.000+08:00

i say, double whoppers rock. big time. pity the offer to put everything on it has expired. o well, they still rock.

i need sleep

2006-08-17T00:27:00.000+08:00

my eye- bags have gotten so bad that if i'm going on any flight, i would have to check them in-

curse you triple eye bags. roar.

the theory of lala

2006-08-15T23:28:00.000+08:00

u noe, i seriously need to find a way to have dinner everyday in school without a) busting my pockets and b) dragging my entire kitchen down in a john-esque fashion.

on a brighter note, i now have damn amusing company for my psuedo- mugging sessions, though something deep inside me says that having dance- offs with andrew or karaoke breaks with denys arent doing my prelim targets any good. but hey, if i do go down, mite as well do it in a blaze of fun-

and oh yea, after seeing denys "in action" with a girl, i'm starting to think that leslie's cross continent video camera exploits arent that bad. wait, lemme correct that. they both need serious help (start with the TIACT boys). and o yes, sad breaking news. haiz. daryl gan's prolific hurdling career has come to an end right when it was about to peak (i am so gonna get my head knocked in for this) as amoz the hor cruelly smashed daryl's foot with a crutch. i think that's the singular form for crutches. should be right? haha-

adding to the commentary of this "life" that i have newly adopted, i must say that poline is highly highly amusing company to have. quirky mannerisms, weird monikers, bad hygiene, rowdy temper, short fuse, bad fashion sense, almost non existant sense of humour, man what more is there to ask for? (haha again just asking for a beating i tell u)

on a final note, FIONA XIE is like the hottest chic around-

sing a song of merry men

2006-08-14T22:57:00.000+08:00

i am god damn tired. anyway as promised:

mugging progress for the day: 2 pages of balance of payment notes!

hohoho at this rate i should be ready for the A levels in 2020, Malaysia Boleh!

mugdonalds

2006-08-13T21:32:00.000+08:00

well, national day euphoria still hangs in the air and in the spirit of all things singaporean, i have decided to initiate a mini ritual in anticipation of the A levels. and still keeping with that spirit, i have also decided to give it an acronym- IR (Imran's Ritual).

let's see, to keep my muggerish peers on their toes and to hopefully inspire those still bumming around and playing DoTA, i shall detail my daily mugging progress. that's right folks! for the first time ever, the public shall have access to such secret information! starting today in fact-

mugging progress for the day: 1 whole page from the balance of payment notes

hohoho fear me! grade A here i come-

meet my playmate; boredom

2006-08-12T23:26:00.000+08:00

you know that something is wrong with your day, if the most exciting thing that happened was that you finished a plate of rice under 7 minutes.

oh joy.

our nation's most lethal weapon

2006-08-11T17:23:00.000+08:00

just when we thought that the world has seen enough horrors to last a lifetime (e.g. war, Beloved, cake under harris' armpit, chayhim etc.), channel 5 comes along ups the ante.

they brought back my sassy neighbour.

yes folks. that sad excuse for a comedy with a teaser trailer that's about as enticing as sauteed rooster balls for dinner. i still don't get it man. by now, i would have thought that someone in mediacorp would have enough brains to realise that my sassy neighbour's overall viewership of 1 would be reason enough to can the damn thing. but no, they decided to stick with the show.

the script is about as funny as an amputation and the actors are as comical as swiss cheese. how bout that lead actress? that self righteous aunty? well she holds a punchline the way bertrand holds in his stomache (no offence brudda). the only reason i can think of for them to continue persisting with the show would be that they needed more miracle cases for their highly acclaimed series Life Story. you know, "HEY! i survived my sassy neighbour AGAIN! Such strength! This is my life story!"

hell. at the rate theyre going, the only series that's gonna have more cases would be True Files.

if that wasnt enough, they introduced rated E. yes folks! that show that reeks of boundless promise. the one where they claim to have the "insider scoop" to things and be the Singapore equivalent of E!. rite about now, the only scoop theyre getting is from the uncle selling ice cream from the back of his van.

that michelle woman is a complete plank and shan's efforts at trying to be witty falls flat because it just bounces off that woman. hell, the only way theyre gonna get any form of chemistry, is if they brewed something up from those do-it-yourself chemistry sets that you get at Toys-R-Us. its that bad.

c'mon people, singapore has more than its fair share of good entertainment but what's happening is that theyre all being swept under the carpet. at this rate, i mite actually be forced to turn to other channels to quench my thirst for good entertainment, specifically comedy. rite now though, suria isnt exactly the black entertainment television equivalent and what more the actors there massacre lines like tutsis. channel 8? well 'nuff said (lao shi zao an!).

channel 5; its good to be home.

of good mornings and little brothers

2006-08-10T11:20:00.000+08:00

you know you are in a desperate need for a good shave when you wake up one fine morning and your little brother greets you with:

"Good morning Yatiman Yusof!"

now where is that damn shaving blade.

count on me singapore

2006-08-10T00:38:00.000+08:00

look at it this way, i'm about as patriotic as the next 18 yr old singaporean lining up for national service, but honestly speaking the national day parade didnt exactly puff my chest up a bit more with national pride.

well where do i start? hrm there were 3 things that really irritated me.

1) tapdancers. like c'mon. tapdancers? performing in an open-air stadium in front of tens of thousands of people? like c'mon. you can't possibly be serious abt this.

2) whats up with the formations and all man.

commentator 1: what does this particular formation mean?
commentator 2: well it symbolizes the vibrancy and enthusiasm of today's youths!
*cues bored looking kids wearing yellow reject shop costumes flapping their arms*
commentator 1: yes! we can see how theyre all having a ball of a time! (mind you, she said this with the confidence of a 500 pound wrestler going into a fight against denys)

honestly folks. not only were they trying to force through meanings with these random formations and not only were the costumes so god damn ugly and weird, the sad thing was that the true meaning of national day was obviously lost on the kids. i highly doubt that they saw their participation in the parade as anything more than CIP hours and a chance to make friends who are possibly better looking than them.

we have got to find another way to not only celebrate the independence of our nation but to also make the youths of today appreciate what it means to be independent. i dont have the answers with me, but when i do i'll make sure i blog abt it. heh.

3) whats up with the bastardized national day songs! since when was stand up for singapore so techno! blasphemy! whoever was responsible for such gross inhumanity shall be made to pay!

i shall write to my friendly neighbourhood MP and complain *nods* together we make a difference!

the only redeeming factor in the entire parade was the fact that i managed to catch amoz's dad's drum invention in action. boy was it damn cool.

anw i started on my mugging today (gasps! hard to believe but true!) and i juz realised that i'm in quite deep shit. taking a leaf out of yining's mum's book (lao zhi zao an!) i went and weighed my box of notes and it was a whopping 8.4kg!

curse you 200 years of history. grumbles.

shake that thang-

2006-08-08T13:01:00.000+08:00

from time to time we always get this sinking feeling where we noe that something is not quite rite, u noe, that feeling that something is missing from our lives and that there's absolutely nuthing that we can do abt it. blooey.

i would have loved to have gone to school for the celebrations, but after weighing things up i decided that the opportunity cost was simply far too great (fear me! i am using econs jargon!) hence, i spent the time wisely snoring away, dreaming of things that i noe i can never get even if i snag that degree in tribal dancing.

i guess the coming hols would either make-or-break my prelims, but i have a funny feeling that i'm gonna end up stoning away again or writing pointless blog entries that merely amuse bored souls wandering around the internet. well hey, at least i can put this as one of my top 3 achievements, alongside 'wearing ties every friday without fail' and 'running faster than mr goh's grandma'.

oh btw i'm taking bets. who's willing to risk the dough betting that i would actually finish an essay during the hols?

any takers? =]

long live McDonalds delivery

2006-08-07T23:47:00.000+08:00

haha so much for lit study grp. but o well at least had some fun psuedo-mugging with andrew and denys.

u noe what? at the rate i'm going rite now, the only uni i can hope to go to at the end of NS would be the University of Timbuktu, learning tribal dancing.

woe is me!

haha this is a complex one

2006-08-06T17:45:00.000+08:00

Me & God

I think God said: ‘worship me.’
and sharing the gravestone of my thoughts
as desolate as an old cow’s puckered cry,
the face- that- is- not- mine wept
till it lay at the
bottom of things.

nothing existed besides the broken eyes (closed) between
relaxed hands.
then, embracing a tremor that shook nothing but itself-
life stirred and pieced wordy earth together.

Hope, like an idle warrior, festered in wombs
and reeked of cantankerous blood. then silently,
like a lover’s call reverberating through contemned hills
it unfurled its colours; bunga mangga, to touch
the
depths
of
me
that
roared into shape; the broken eyes open.

poet's note: apparently blogger cant compute the breaks i put between words. so my poem looks quite screwed up rite now. if anyone noes how i can solve this lil problem i would be grateful. in the meantime if u want the proper version, juz ask from me online. cheers-

poetry,oh poetry how gay art thou.

2006-08-05T21:54:00.000+08:00

Owl

like an idle carcass the owl waits
for skulls, deathlike- with ‘Man’ tattooed in his armpit
under the wing too heavy to fly.
he stretches- and an ecstasy tightens over his skin
and dissolves, distilling inertia thickened
with fish mucus and algae.

sensing his belly like a butterfly, sadness in the glory of its fronds
unfurls a gesture to the unseemly huge shadow
of the owl-
that twitches across the floor.

cowering under leaves, it grabs the tip of its heart- nerve
and crashes.

he is in hopeless feathers.

friday nights

2006-08-04T23:07:00.000+08:00

i love talking to moz. its so easy talking to him and like it can go on for hours at an end. now if only he came to school more often hahaha-

oh the shark, babe, has such teeth dear.

2006-07-28T00:05:00.000+08:00

its no big secret that many people think i have weird taste in music. in a world where the louder they bang and screech the better the quality of 'music', its no wonder why. taking nothing away from other ppl's pet genre, i juz think tt the whole jazz and big band thing is juz a class act above other types of music.

musicians like sinatra, dean martin, louis armstrong and nat king cole are juz cool. there's no other way to put it. to sing those songs that they sing juz requires tt level of charisma and charm that only very ppl possess. and hell, these guys have it in abundance.

u juz got to listen to martin and sinatra's mack the knife duet to noe what i mean. these guys have the sheer audacity to tweak a classic into something that juz screams coolness. hell sinatra was practically talking as the band was playing behind him AND he did it in tune and along with the music. buble tried to do sumfink like that for his cover of mack the knife, but even the 'smooth one' couldnt pull it off. and tt's saying a lot. his cover of sway is practically THE jazz song of today.

if u still think tt tt's nothing and say tt current musicians like 50 cent can 'rap' the way Sinatra did, then u dunnoe how wrong u are. no doubt 50 cent did his 'thang' well, but sinatra's was well this amalgam of singing and talking, quite different from rap altogether.

i can go on and on abt this really, but juz noe this, jazz and big band songs are cool, elegant, soothing and have some of the best lyrics around. cheers folks-

and he shows them, pearly white-

catch that damn nose

2006-07-26T23:41:00.000+08:00

i cant really be bothered by all the flak really. so childish.

anw am feeling quite shitty, stupid throat and nose. but on the bright side, vj is thru to the semis for JCDCs. taking nothing away from sajc, i thought they really pushed the team till the end and well they do have quite a good crop of debaters this year. but hey, that's debate i guess. someone has to lose.

its hard to be pensive when ur nose threatens to squeeze itself senseless. so more thoughts at another time. cheers folks-

the world in a swing.

2006-07-25T23:28:00.000+08:00

its funny how my existence has been reduced to nightly swings in the school garden where i do nothing but think of crafting a poem. listening to the rhythmic swings of that rusty contraption,while looking at the stars and indulging in the luxury of the soothing nite breeze, u dont want to do anything but juz give shape to those amorphous thoughts that float mockingly in your mind.

but sumtimes even this would juz wear u out. wear u out thin. and when ur nothing more than a single ply, it hits u. hits u hard. how lonely we all really are.

i usually look to the stars for comfort. thinking, that no matter what that i could always, always pick a star to keep me company. juz pluck one out of the vaulted sky and dwindle it between my fingers. but how foolish of me.

we are ultimately alone. alone with nothing but our thoughts. its funny really. we try to surround ourselves with friends and enemies, thinking that at the end of it all there would at least be someone there waiting for u. without a care in the world if it be friend or foe, at least, there would be sumone. but loneliness is a fate that awaits us all. just as we are born alone, the gaping mouth of the grave also only awaits one. how foolish of me.

hey, i noe it does sound a tad over- dramatic, but nowadays i juz seem to find myself alone. even in the hustle and bustle of the school day, there would be pockets where i would juz lock myself away in the corner of my mind. not thinking, not feeling, not doing anything really. its juz this empty sickly feeling, similar to what one feels when at the losing end of a chess game.

a warm hug is nothing but a myth. a sweet word is nothing but a farce.

maybe i'm juz waiting to see whether there will be anyone at the end of it all waiting for me. juz waiting. i do apologise if i seem to make little sense in this entry, but its one of those things that u juz struggle to reign in with words.

all i wanna do rite now though, is juz cloak myself in this vast darkness and wait.

manhunt

2006-07-23T23:47:00.000+08:00

its uber tiresome thinking abt depressing things. what more i have been wrongfully accused of blogging like a suicidal girl. thus, i shall blog about the hunks of 05a53. seeing how denys made that lil silly hollywood list i shall respond with a list of my own:

shawn is......damn blardie fast. (he is the fastest boy in singapore)
bob is...........a rastafarian.
daryl is........violent. haha.
andrew is....a handsome fat man.
leslie is.........the class mop.
bertrand is..love! hahaha.
amoz is........late.
divyesh is....wait make that "are" many things.
sulas is.........in this list.
denys is.......a faggot.

i noe mr harris would frown upon the use of "faggot" but honestly nothing was more apt.

oh happy days =]

what a wonderful world.

2006-07-23T15:04:00.000+08:00

american massacre at my lai, vietnam 1968

american massacre at haditha, iraq 2006.

saddening. that's what this is, saddening. that's right, what you see are the corpses of babies, brutally thrown out of this world by the stupidity of war.

who is to blame for all this?

back in 1968, out of the 26 military personnel charged with the massacre of my lai, only one person was ever punished. lt. william calley was sentenced to 3 1/2 years of house arrest. that's right, house arrest. doesnt this juz make u see trees of green and clouds of white?

and now, we have hell in lebanon. when will we ever learn?

never maybe.

and i think to myself, what a wonderful world.

look ma, its the shah!

2006-07-23T14:49:00.000+08:00

take a quick moment folks to savour the blatant irony. why not too long ago, the 'progressive' shah of iran was the poster boy of the american nuclear industry. my, my. how times have changed.

just savour the irony.

sluggish sundays

2006-07-23T12:27:00.000+08:00

i'm oh so sluggish on sunday mornings. procrastination, the order of the day. but looking as to how prelims are coming in about 40 days or so, i think i mite juz have to click into working gear soon. essentially depriving myself of my carefree sundays. bah.

anyway, things are all pretty clear for me now.

i noe what i want.

all i need is a

yes.

makes sense, really.

2006-07-23T00:46:00.000+08:00

we always try to decipher what someone else is thinking about. read into gestures, words. thinking, praying, hoping, wishing, that like an open book, revelation would cascade down the pages and into our laps.

never works that way really.

a late sms? the absence of a smiley perhaps? or maybe how the "hahas" dont seem to stretch on as far as usual? these things push our minds into a perpetual overdrive, a vain attempt to uncover a meaning that hey may not even be there in the first place.

we know this of course. but we fall into the same old dusty routine every single time. blame it on the natural instinct of human optimism. blame it on the desire to be appreciated. blame it on the human ego.

people do say that some wishful thinking never hurt anyone. not quite true really. we read so much into things, or sumtimes to little, that we set such high expectations. and we noe how the story goes from there. happily ever afters never do end juz like tt. cinderella is bound to get a divorce, snow white is bound to be poisoned yet again and hell she mite even have an affair wif one of the dwarves. that's life.

the more you love, the greater the possibility of being hurt. the same old dusty routine.

all we can do i guess is happily wait. yes, wait. and if you would like to, pray i guess while you wait. wait for more gestures. wait for more words. wait for a sign. wait for a yes. playing pretend as we await nicely within ourselves.

same old dusty routine.

of hwa chong and wooden lecture tables.

2006-07-23T00:23:00.000+08:00

hwa chong invites today, thought that the vipers did well. 2 wins and a good fight against ri. speaking of ri, the dudes went on to claim the title. and like i said juz now, huever is gonna take over as coach of ri is gonna have a tough act to follow. u noe big shoes to fill, coz its shengwu we're talking about here. o before i forget, cat high did rather well too i thought. their team is shaping up nicely and showing some promise. jgs is gonna be mighty interesting come next yr looking at things rite now.

anw it was fun catching up wif the vj seniors and the ri dudes again and hell, the vipers r a fun bunch. weird, but fun. from darren's laughing to cheryl's "this is a naughty question", it was..... refreshing. hahaha.

well i'm not really a fan of blogging abt how my day went, but i figured that hey this at least deserves some special mention. so well yea, rock on.

the witching hour.

2006-07-22T01:25:00.000+08:00

there's juz somefink attractive about the night, this strange quality that somehow softens the heart and calmly persuades the most stubborn of minds to submit to its will. we whisper our secrets to it, embrace it, try to immerse ourselves in its vastness, entrust it with our thoughts and allow it to touch our hearts. the night is our friend, or foe, our master, our servant. always there, always listening. never judging. what eats at me though is the thought that the day would come, that one fateful day, when even the night deserts us.

god forbid.

who will listen then?

what eats at me too is how much falling hurts. u fall and fall, hopeful, that perhaps someone might be there to juz catch you.

foolish really.

falling is juz that. falling.

funny how it eats and gnaws and is never, not even once, satiated.

yes another poem.

2006-07-22T01:06:00.000+08:00

the encounter

Lawrence never knew.

twisted smiles of happy
plastic;
read like an ode to a
rabid dog.
nameless emotion that soaks the liver- wet shirt,
thumbing the strings that mouth words of- love
that reverberate deeply in her
breast pocket.
tracing the mound of her palm,
convinced in the false map of her country,
i thought it was me
that slight air between you and what you reached for,
me;
that emotion that soaks deep into your weave.
i was wrong.

and

Lawrence never knew.

-july 2006

the 3rd wave

2006-07-22T01:03:00.000+08:00

well its another blog started. i would normally open my blogs on a grand note, u noe, proclaiming the arrival of the new messiah of truth and yada yada. usual rubbish. but hey i have digs on this blog lasting a grand total of 2 days, so lets juz keep the grand opening ceremony under wraps.