let's,from some loud unworld's most rightful wrong.

man has always been drawn to the sea

2010-08-22T21:22:00.002+08:00

but it's too unnatural a setting

with it's waves and currents and dangers

if erring is human then remorse must make us that too

container flight.

2010-08-22T21:13:00.004+08:00

we fool ourselves time and time again.
little tricks aiding us to perceive the world,
as (if not anything) marginally different
from the world of another.

like a blue rose waiting in a desert,
for a sultry performer to masquerade by
an unpretentious offer.

take what i know to be true,
i wish no ownership of it (in being it).

help me to look into your eyes once again,
let me feel as i did on a certain chancing.
i need to tell you the truth now.
i ventured into the promiscuity

of possibility.

i shouldn't have, i know i promised,
but what was i to do?
like the slaves of the orient-
young, touched and known,
lay prepared for the invading white,
i too could concede no such preponderance.

you need to know however, it failed.
i failed.
i felt nothing-
realisation hit like a brick,
he (you) carries the key.

dreaming sweet.

2010-08-13T00:47:00.001+08:00

i'd brand it on my neck if i could.
tell the world, what we have.

sometimes i wonder,
if i'm really the cause of all this,
if it's not natural to want.

i ask myself why i'm cringing,
the answer stands before me, so clear-
i would do so much more.

because it burns inside
and we would think talking it out
would make everything okay,
but i'd just end up the lesser;
it'd be because of me.

but isn't that what it should be like?
(shouldn't we dream)
shouldn't we brand it on our necks?

part of your world.

2010-08-03T23:28:00.002+08:00

it's the first of the month,
yet my sheets stay unclean.
i find myself staring at the ceiling, lying in bed.
dreams so fresh reeling from my subconscious.
i struggle to grasp my flight of rationality,
sweetly lulled departure from my pillow,
deluding reality from passionate desire.
maybe that's why i write essay after essay,
stretching my primal instincts over
carefully constructed arguments.
i say what i say because i fear,
because what stared back at me was marred
with imperfection i know you don't deserve.
does it shock you to know i'm scared.
one desire,
in an effort almost sacrosanct yet ultimately human.
open your mouth, speak.
i struggle to find solace in the consolation i conjure,
for deed will never replace the warmth of a verb.
that i may never be that tall or brooding,
that i may never be able to take you by the arm
and fly you to journeys i cannot even piece
in my unsaturated minefield of a heartbeat.
with pen and heart
so calmly projecting everything i think i can be,
the only way i know how.
yanking breath and streaming paralysis,
as i tear my eyes awake from this world
i never was meant to be a part of.

scale belonged.

2010-07-10T22:27:00.004+08:00

i close my eyes to see the beauty all around
glimmering stars grounded by tranquil waters
i fell in love five years ago
yet even though another chapter unfolds
i still love like i did as you did
everyday you remind me it mattered
because even today you won't speak to me
i close my eyes and wonder how the silence
in your dimmed pupils
spoke tales so common yet unspoken
if all that we experience is a decision
then i know i've chosen hands outstretched
naked and grasping the same air
you maybe breathed or serenaded your face
orange peeled heart
layer after year of fibre removed
regrown but never forgotten
i fell in love five years ago
i close my eyes to taste the salted dreams
undulating in the scars of space and reality
warping around who i thought i could be
(who you'd like me to be)
i'll be silent
so you too with eyes closed can see what i see
so should the dusty winds of existence
mattering only to the you that you'd let yourself be
wisp by this foolish songbird so blessed
i'd learn to graze a melody only we know
in closed eyes in eyes closed

knees.

2010-07-08T22:26:00.000+08:00

shrivelled, a doorknob
awaits to be touched, skin

so high compared to little fairies
whispering, secrets in my ear

frozen on my pillow, kiss
secrets to the pale skinned

silence swimming in my ear
i see your scent wallowing,

completely enshrouded in the
blinds of twilight,

i distinguish
alps from trees from gazing into,

the eyes of stars, like a furnace
incumbent point, of your fingers

miranda.

2010-07-05T17:44:00.002+08:00

delicate embrace breaking
strings

tongue on
passion's pedestal
(no i don't)

believe in the running road
third world patronage
sorely gazing
on another murky sunrise

fuming bullets
lulling to bed

yet another
paralysed dreamer
confusing moon

with moon

volte-face.

2010-07-03T23:40:00.002+08:00

the sand that dances around my feet
fleeting breeze caressing my neck
such aimless steps that guide me

to the closing gates you've ordered
my feet are painted red
i trace the steps that linger in your return

pensive fire, sweetened tears
meandering through the circus of dancers
whose feet beat rhythm and rhythm

throbbing down my neck
throb dimmed in a farce
indelicate swoon by the censured moon

i bear a scar on my forehead handed by you
pearls that string together a key
to the closing gates you've ordered

past candles and lights, with chimes and bells
the tinkling of the heartbeat we once shared
blemishing in the beauty of it's foolish age

blinded bellows borrowing
what will never be, or has in the death wish
of my every step of a river into a sea

the beetle stays afloat
in the water lying on it's back
with feet painted red

thank you.

2010-07-01T23:50:00.001+08:00

pen in my hand,
on page one.

clouds spinning on a sunny day,
with lines written on the face of sand,
and wind in a euphoric dance .
some call it sympathetic environment,

the inner child
eases a gasp of relief.

empathizing music, it be better named.
unblemished diamonds on your
gold encrusted skin
(field after field of yellow daffodils).

wonderment gaped in resplendent awe.
the pages flip by like sonnets in rhymes
without form,
formless radiance

awoken in the musky scent of sheets,
witness to childhood lullabies and
a memorized fairytale.
so raw,

washed in a hue of indifference.
with a choice, of course a choice-

you made.
so page one stares blank,
yet mirroring so much more at me.

judged.

2010-06-28T12:18:00.000+08:00

it's perfectly validating,
for you to stand posed over me.
hammer in your right hand.

crept off any emotion, unfailing humanity,
dripped off your cold, hard chin.
pupils that glare down at me,

brimming in opaqued hysteria.
lying tenderly, breathing romantics,

mending wounds, mending wounds.

i soak my flesh in grass and mud,
with flowers who dream feeble attempts,
at remaining condescend to the rabid

howls of the unman's moan, his groan.
so torn, so bruised,
brimming in opaqued hysteria
like the undead of doves,

so fleeting, so misunderstood.
it's perfectly validating
(hammer in your right hand).

un.

2010-06-23T22:40:00.001+08:00

my arm suspends in

mid

air
the orchestra trumps the infant note
like paraplegic lemon streams

isn't it beautiful
sashaying their way through weaves
of combed, uncombed egos
such virile dominance

my lover's dreams and feet

that air cold and wet lies
i am at peace
legs spread and taped
with

isn't it beautiful
stitched eye some say
yielded too blossomed a fruit
grained in some born, unborn
dire fractioned

lover

and till fonder times believe,

2010-04-27T22:40:00.002+08:00

i little tell fare a tale, till none.

sr debates 2010.

2010-04-19T00:08:00.003+08:00

so incredibly proud of each and every single one of them :)

we are such stuff as dreams are made on.

2010-04-11T18:08:00.000+08:00

Then let not winter's ragged hand deface

2010-04-11T18:03:00.001+08:00

In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd:
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beauty's treasure, ere it be self-kill'd.
That use is not forbidden usury,
Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
That's for thyself to breed another thee,
Or ten times happier, be it ten for one;
Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,
If ten of thine ten times refigured thee:
Then what could death do, if thou shouldst depart,
Leaving thee living in posterity?
Be not self-will'd, for thou art much too fair
To be death's conquest and make worms thine heir.

Sonnet VI
William Shakespeare

picture post!

2010-04-11T17:59:00.002+08:00

cupcakes are yummy.

pictures from the week at the tempest, chi cheong's party, a baby shower, randall and mali, my srjc debate kids at the nationals and my lovely choir at lunch.

More flowers I noted, yet I none could see

2010-03-30T13:54:00.001+08:00

But sweet or colour it had stol'n from thee.

Sonnet XCIX
William Shakespeare

picture post!

2010-03-30T13:51:00.003+08:00

it's a busy busy week ahead. busy is always good though.

here's brussels, PLU and da pai dang with the boys and smelly and ntu dorothy cheungs' with the sr kids.

first firsts'

2010-03-29T18:36:00.001+08:00

let me look at you in the eye
i know why you're doing this

it's true

because you know how it's like

what you're doing

i'm hanging on this thread of skin

when i force these eyes
of white of white
of mine awake from their escape

maybe i know why i'm living this life

they all know what i did to him

they all know the tears i drowned him in

that's how i run away you see
i've learnt much from you
that's one of the things i've learnt best
and tell you how it feels

to lie to myself every morning

when it can't be it just can't

because i know better

to live in the skin of a stranger
dangling from the pride sticking
out your eye lashes
and maybe this time
like those i''m thoroughly acquainted with now
so
that's now

Bed Lie's

2010-03-26T09:48:00.000+08:00

you wrote me a letter
telling me it was going to end
that you knew exactly what you were doing
(what i was doing)
i'd been waiting to hear this from you
for too long
every word was clung to the tip of your tongue
this was the knowing in word
then i realised

it was just another dream

in an inklings worth,

2010-03-24T20:48:00.001+08:00

i'd smile.

thorned inglorious sight.

2010-03-24T14:05:00.001+08:00

for i am no longer i
when i eye the you
seated across me in the hall way
(laying on the pillow beside mine)
your eyes swell up in tears too familiar
having traversed the lines of my cheeks
i couldn't understand why i was crying
why you had eyes veined red
then the salty pedestal plunged off your chin
onto my skin

and everything made sense

the tears eye know
the ones i thought i knew
unmasked as mere strangers

until now
you see eye see
you

breakfast dreaming lineaments.

2010-03-23T10:30:00.002+08:00

the cold winds seethe off whatever life
this putrid little world of
yours and mine
could ever dish out in resistance
to a virtue so blue
so blue

the rumbling skies above awake me from my slumber

i am shivering and naked
the duvet i had earlier in the night
is soaked and wrenched with
ants and flies
bed lined with the blood
from the cut you gave

i daren't open my eyes
hearing the spittle of the rain at my window

heaven quakes once more
lashing it's masochistic trident
at mortality's spread and sore thighs

i am afraid

my only solace amidst my quivering
blue and molted heart
is the embracive emptiness
the silence sacrosanct
it warms my bruised heartbeat

i daren't open my

this pastiche we've written
tastes like feckless susurration
blue on blue
knowing
on know

Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,

2010-03-15T21:57:00.003+08:00

When I against myself with thee partake?
Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?
On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon?
Nay, if thou lour'st on me, do I not spend
Revenge upon myself with present moan?
What merit do I in myself respect,
That is so proud thy service to despise,
When all my best doth worship thy defect,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;
Those that can see thou lovest, and I am blind.

Sonnet CXLIX
William Shakespeare

picture post!

2010-03-14T21:22:00.002+08:00

ladies and gentlemen, it is debate season! training's been intense with my college kids and ij girls. thankfully, i've still managed to catch up with the many amazing people in my life who make living so much more bearable.

And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;

2010-03-10T22:00:00.001+08:00

My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,

Sonnet CXLVII
William Shakespeare

picture post!

2010-03-09T15:31:00.006+08:00

so my boys (fat mike, michael yeo and rayner) and i have made it almost a weekly tradition to meet up for dinner and wine. last week, michael yeo made tacos, micahel lee baked chocolate fondant and i whipped up (my favourite pasta) ravioli for dinner at my place.

we discussed our plans for our trip to england and paris next june. i'm excited! michael yeo brought back some memories with photos from our england trip in 2006. we had a good laugh at how bad we looked back in college.

to england 2011!

Letters (ii): On Linda, to Randall.

2010-03-09T14:57:00.003+08:00

Dear Randall,

I spent the day out with another one of the Paul sisters. It's amazing how much we take for granted- the ability to travel through the acres of space and time with just a single train ride. I sat next to mother in the train on the way to town for her medical appointment. I decided to be philanthropic I suppose, considering the bad debts I owe to the bigger principles of a mortgaged aspiration, as evidently laid to rest in the depths of our father's o-so-closeted wardrobe.

Thirty over years ago, Linda made Helen entertain Lawrence at home with hot milk (that was the only drink he had back in the day), while she went out galavanting with her her friends at the local cinema. They were dating then and she had more interest in father's best friend than father himself. Thirty years ago, mother would take plane rides to Penang without a dime on her, just to take part in dancing competitions. She loved a good dance. It still runs through our bones I think; doesn't this put everything in perspective? Our bones on bones, passed through veins and veins and it runs in us, we are who she was.

This was the woman who'd wear killer heels and sashay down the office, getting just about anyone with testosterone in their bodies (and maybe even those who didn't) peering over desks to steal a glance at her. I look at her now and still see her beauty forever etched in the wrinkles of her worn eyes, her once rosy cheeks- she was and forever will be a beauty.

I suppose the cycle of life has a funny way of catching up with you. Now all she can do is share her regret over giving up the opportunity of eloping with a wealthy Australian suitor. Now she grieves for the pain her mother (I've missed dear ol' nanny) dealt with, as she spent months at a go awaiting her sea-bound husbands return- the truth was that sailor was too busy in the arms of other women. Maybe that's why the sea eventually took him back into her arms one fine day. Linda always recounts the devastation wreaked on the Paul's when she found out her father was lost at sea.

She'd think the worst was over. That's what we'd all like to think right? Time to snap back to the present. Too much reminiscence can take an emotional toll, easily avoidable I say.

With love,

i'd give it;

2010-03-08T03:21:00.001+08:00

i'll never talk again.

So will I pray

2010-03-02T00:45:00.003+08:00

that thou mayst have thy 'Will,'
If thou turn back, and my loud crying still.

Sonnet CXLIII

William Shakespeare

dry.

2010-03-02T00:33:00.004+08:00

i sat down to write this morning,

but my pen wouldn't budge.

in shades of gray.

2010-03-01T10:16:00.000+08:00

picture post!

2010-02-23T12:40:00.004+08:00

hey hey!

haven't done a picture post in a bit no? guess i haven't been snapping enough. probably because i've been too busy thoroughly enjoying my re-acquaintance with freedom since ord-ing :)

here're pictures mainly from my house warming.

O, call not me to justify the wrong

2010-02-21T00:23:00.004+08:00

That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue;
Use power with power and slay me not by art.
Tell me thou lovest elsewhere, but in my sight,
Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:
What need'st thou wound with cunning when thy might
Is more than my o'er-press'd defense can bide?
Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows
Her pretty looks have been mine enemies,
And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:
Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,
Kill me outright with looks and rid my pain.

Sonnet CXXXIX

William Shakespeare

nelon.

2010-02-15T23:48:00.003+08:00

caterpillars and chocolate chips

i get just about how many lights

could a darkness blind in satire embarked

on nothing

but your philosophical endeavouring into

any

matter so undeniable soaked in the sweat and tears of a humanity

so naked

so drenched in the vile of a sweldering, erect, veined

ambition

stained in sheets and change of cloaks

that wield in its flicker

as winds and tides fuse elements untamed

will be

bound

Letters (i): On Helen, to Randall.

2010-02-15T17:41:00.008+08:00

Dear Randall,

It's a funny path we all choose to undertake here and there. We plant sycamore trees in our backyard so we can watch them grow. I met Helen just earlier today. I'd watch the stars grow with her, if I only knew how i'd shed skin for it's offspring. Mother wanted to drop by her sisters' to drop off some cash, as always. I couldn't help but wonder how the roads along the way don't bleed, after seeing what they see everyday.

I never liked visiting the family. Maybe it's because deep inside, i'm afraid that's exactly what i'll age into- old, sagging in all the wrong places, face painted with wrinkles, battling (okay, maybe not battling) alcoholism, single-parent (i pity the cats i'd have to raise), indelibly depressed and lonely. I'd be sitting by an old lake when my reflection donned with the shadows of what I possibly could have been- I wouldn't know now, I'd have been too caught up with my youth. We all get too caught up with our youth- it's the martyrdom of modernity I believe. It really doesn't help that you never fail to remind me how i've already embarked on my path to Helen-hood. So much for brotherly love?

I looked at the woman and wondered if the world would look at me the same way after i've been knocked off my horses. I felt a strange pride looking at the possibility of my lineage through her worn nails, her light brown eyes, her frizzy hair and her typically Anglo-Indian nose. Her words, her alcohol-slurred soliloquy- she preaches a gospel of her heart; trust me, i'm all ears for the prophetic, impending must-be's, that spill from that hole in her face that she's crowned so many a lover with.

This brings me back to my soliloquy. I really should start work on it. Till, then we'll rest our hearts dear brother.

With love,

songs of a strolling minstrel.

2010-02-12T00:51:00.003+08:00

my mire's gone weary in recent haps

for long to seek some a partner

in life's cordial dance

an eye in the sun

in resting's birth lay a hidden trophy

no sunder could silence

aye so i wash my eye

in the rays of the sun

in blissful ignorance gleaming

nothing less

for a troubadour told me the other night

his secret

residual enchantment.

2010-02-09T13:02:00.008+08:00

i have so much and yet nothing at all to say to you.

i find myself comprehending cubism in long train rides these days-

you know what they say about them poems;

sculpting lines out of ash, out of lines made in ash,

(tribute to nothingness)

with S & W and S & W

and ess and double you.

i smoke too much.

sometimes i feel my lungs collapsing

(as i stroll through the park (who) reflect

some abstract, abashed journey under

your frivolous moon)

another ticket stub for the stash,

kept in my swanky new closet.

what am i but another struggling artist,

ploughing my way through finding meaning,

finding perfection

in the lines of my reflection scraped on my mirror-

because you don't say anything,

you don't say anything at all.

technology's shrunk this world:

this brings me back to the point of the lines,

the point of the attempt to burn, to burn, to burn-

perfection is over (rated).

so, gone are the days with me (and who's who) mortgaged to your will "

remove me with a click, please.

(set (me)

free.

)

every line i read hurts more and more."

i'm tired, i really am tired of being tired.

i have, i have so, i have so (much),

i have (so much and yet) nothing at all to say (to you).

in blue skies.

2010-02-04T22:26:00.003+08:00

where else but in sengkang can you find skies so vast and terrain so untamed?

aren't we all then,

2010-01-31T06:51:00.003+08:00

victims of circumstance?

the sky was made for me,

2010-01-30T14:57:00.001+08:00

and i was made for him.

maybe it wasn't meant for me.

2010-01-29T06:46:00.000+08:00

so zero expectation,
in the now, please.

picture post!

2010-01-28T01:49:00.005+08:00

hullo!

i've been quite busy since the year started. way too much to update. all that matters now is that i've finally moved into my new place in sengkang and i'm one week away from my ord :)

here goes the first picture post for the new year!

scene of crime.

2010-01-21T09:47:00.002+08:00

operations room dispatched mobile to incident,

time check 2345 hours.

(i stand naked and scarred

the cold water flushes down my spine

the currents rush down my skin

i'm washed clean)

mobile proceeding to location.

(and the only image etched in my eyes)

ten three, arrive time 2359 hours.

upon arrival, mobile contacted one male subject.

mobile attempted to ascertain subjects particulars.

(i lit my cigarette

i watch the ash cradled by the wind

every breath seemed slower than the last

i'm breathing

down ten storeys)

subject turned hostile.

(with nothing else on my mind)

mobile effected necessary force on subject.

subject subdued.

situation under control.

(i stand drenched before you)

diary, subject struggled during arrest.

mobile to operations room,

(i'm lying on my bed

sleeping in a black and white photograph

the picture you took

you've framed my vulnerability

in a single shot)

informing ten four, one subject for lock up,

(maybe just maybe

your fingers traced my eyebrows

my sun burnt cheeks

my broken eyes)

time check 0101 hours.

(in black and white)

i know the road looks lonely,

2010-01-20T18:55:00.001+08:00

but that's just satan's game.

a manifestation of my dreams.

2010-01-18T11:40:00.001+08:00

yours,

don't worry about a thing.

2010-01-14T12:25:00.000+08:00

can i come over?

petals for a rose.

2010-01-10T19:33:00.004+08:00

stop singing with me,

(i lay before you)

stop singing with me,

(with hands outstretched-

my tongue in a golden box.)

stop singing with me.

i'm mortified,

just thinking about grocery shopping alone.

aisle after aisle after aisle,

of countless boxes of red and red and red;

and turntables (and locks) and turntables.

tell me why i'm standing right by my window,

peering down ten floors-

just let me find the scissors,

i'll make it better once i find it,

just let me find the scissors.

i promised you before, i'll promise you again and again,

even with my sand dried tongue removed;

served on your diamond crusted chest.

i tried to write a letter to you-

believe it or not, i couldn't find the words to pen, to pen.

then again, what's the point of writing lyrics no one understands;

even you.

(i want to find your lips locked on another man's.

i want to find what i don't want to,)

what i don't want to,

(what you don't want to.)

i'd like to deny the fact that i'm delicate.

especially now that we're standing naked in front of my mirror-

because the reflection you see of me, will never be my reflection;

and the you i see, i'll never find anywhere else.

i'm walking down aisle after aisle,

up and down, up and down the aisle.

i think my dear, i know what i'm in for-

in hopelessness,

in hopelessness.

in.

(sailing sea's)

in.

so, close your eyes

2010-01-08T16:06:00.001+08:00

and let's go.

colder conquests.

2010-01-04T10:40:00.003+08:00

you watch me from a distance

eyes clawing over the boundless courtyard that separates me from

you

deboned, debased, de, discerned helplessness

as you watch me

elope with the dance of the savage

toe dipped in the sweetest frankincense of immorality

leggings stretched, groin bending repulse

yes the repulse

the sticky, molten eruption of my infidelity

not on you my dear, never in you

you just so happened to be there when you were

in seconds

your fingers gripped my arm,

clawing, yanking me out of your dystopic ecstasy

white sash around your waist,

white robe armouring your skeletal bound heart,

white garb adorned in insolent sacrosanct

stained with nothing but the squirts of perspiration

from between your legs as you march in self bestowed glory

in the crusade for your birth intended destiny

tape around my mouth

metal eating into the flesh of my wrists and ankles

but i love you, but i love you

please don't make me sing any more

my melody is different now

i promise you

you've changed everything

everything i am now is because of you and what you've brought into my life

remember the rose?

the rose, the rose?

please just remember the rose

sit across you in the living room

lips sealed, thighs shut, stomach in, chest out, hands on my knees

in silence

you watch me from a distance

"feeling is so bourgeois"

2009-12-30T14:22:00.003+08:00

from An Education.

it's funny, how numbed i am to disappointment.

2009-12-30T06:16:00.001+08:00

de.

ja
vu.

and nothing could replace,

2009-12-23T21:43:00.001+08:00

awaking to your sweet touch.

i couldn't ask,

2009-12-15T10:05:00.001+08:00

for any more.

picture post!

2009-12-15T07:05:00.008+08:00

well here's uploading all the photos i have before i leave sunny singapore for bangkok babay!

so many things have happened! german christmas dinner at tammy's, tea with mikey, drinks at timber, dinner with jim at the hilton, caroling at the prison link centre and east point shopping centre, swedish meatballs at ikea, dinner at auntie gina's and how can i miss out, zouk out!

i've had wayyy too much fun. and alcohol. no, actually maybe not enough alcohol.

till i return from bangkok lovely's!

it's no wonder your lips taste a little different.

2009-12-10T16:17:00.002+08:00

you see, my heart's got a new moat built around it.

picture post!

2009-12-08T10:58:00.005+08:00

honestly, the past week or two has been nothing but tumultuous.

there'd been quite a bit going on at home and everywhere else. the good news is, i've made it through in one piece. in retrospect, i think it was necessary and beneficial for me to have undergone all that trauma. i'd lost sight of many things in my life and this ordeal merely helped return some perspective. i've never felt more empowered.

so, here're pictures from the past 2 weeks. too much had happened as always. the highlights though included crashing chi cheong's (immaculate) place, the mad hatter's tea party, thanksgiving dinner at aunty gina's, catching up with my godbro and sandra and celebrating mikey's birthday with jojo and the college mates.

and the ground gave way beneath my feet,

2009-12-02T18:18:00.002+08:00

and the earth took me in her arms.
the leaves covered my face,
ants marched across my back.
black sky opened up,

blinding

me.

i ran to the cemetery,

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and held my breath

and thought about your death.

i shoot em' bang bang.

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with parts on the ground.

it's been days,

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since i went to bed sober,

or with my eyes still dry.

so i'll keep running,

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and running and running.

let there be an audit.

2009-11-26T01:15:00.000+08:00

maybe then i'd know where i messed it up.

redemption's journal.

2009-11-25T12:11:00.007+08:00

flashing dreams and nightmares

in tender ocular unsight

bewildered in an array of light

so blinded

by the moving plates

the yearning, the crashing, the undoing

behind a ring of fire, emblazoned on your chest

in subtle defiance of a peripheric entanglement

binding being to unbeing in a confusion

lost in it's own breath, it's own heart beat

just so i couldn't feel the ground under my feet

just so i couldn't feel

just so

indebted to a promise i've made to a stranger i can't recognise

with my thighs burning through an escapade i couldn't fence

in moral indignation's blasphemous truth

the pillars burn like the abased skin on my thighs

stitched on only to be debased

and my mind struggles with knowing if i myself am debased

still, i lay based

and in a single moment of knowing

you held my hand

under the moon's cryptic gaze

causing all time

stop.

never before,

2009-11-24T08:36:00.001+08:00

have i ever felt so inadequate.

sometimes it's hard convincing myself,

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that everything happens for a reason.

this is why i love the 80s.

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Chorus:
I eat cannibal, feed on animal
Your love is so edible to me, I eat cannibals
I eat cannibal, it's incredible
You bring out the animal in me, I eat cannibals

Repeat till end:
Roastin', toastin', you're the one i'm boastin'
Eat me, eat you, incredibly delicious too
Gourmet, flambe, serve you up an entree
Intake, home bake, you're the icing on the cake

Eat me, eat you, incredibly delicious too
Gourmet, flambe, serve you up an entree
Intake, home bake, you're the icing on the cake
Full up, can't stop, dicing on a chop chop

for few can ever match up,

2009-11-22T22:05:00.003+08:00

to the passion of a libra.

picture post!

2009-11-22T17:23:00.015+08:00

another week has flown by, leaving me 2.5 months till ORD-ing!

this week, i caught the musical Victor Victoria, starring Laura Fygi at the Esplanade with jeremy, bought Christmas presents in town with jojo, brought my colleague out for a birthday lunch, went to Auntie Mary's for the thank you dinner she threw, caught up with tammy at hongkong cafe over (the o-so-sinful) peanut butter french toast, chilled with the boys and rayner at joe's corner and had some lovely italian sausage with michael and jojo at PS.

i also managed to squeeze in some time to visit my new sengkang unit for some last minute checks, before the contractor starts the complete makeover tomorrow. i'm enthralled about moving in next february. i really hope my contractor doesn't screw this up.

it's another busy week ahead. till the next!

chin up dear,

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and know that i'll follow you into the dark.

over beer, cooch & cake.

2009-11-21T10:09:00.017+08:00

i met rayner last night for a good catch up. one thing i absolutely love about rayner is how in one conversation we can talk about work, politics, love and sex, the economy, philosphy, britney spears and cooches (trust me, you don't even want to know what that is).

in particular, we were discussing how the "progression" of man and society has ultimately led to the regression in the quality of something so common, but so quintessential to our daily lives- friendship.

man used to depend on the camaraderie and fraternity of a friend to win a war, court a lover and start revolutions. what does friendship mean today? we've sold all the values entailing this solemn connection for the hype and glamour of pop culture. in rayner's words "pop culture is meaningless". just take a look at your facebook friends list and ask yourself how many people in there actually know you. not the you that you've described in the "about me" section, but the raw, naked and ugly you that you hide every day of your life.

in Identity by Milan Kundera, he describes friends as mere mirrors to an identity we once had or still have. friends then become mere fabricated identities to aid us in our survival in the superficial world we call our humble (not so?) abode.

it's a sad state we've evolved to. i acknowledge however that my viewpoint is not absolute. i know first hand. i can proudly say i've got an amazing support group made of amazing friends who've seen me butt naked and ugly (not literally of course). i'm lucky. i know not many have so many a shoulder to pick should they need one to lean on. so if you know you're one of these special people in my life, thank you and know you'll always have my shoulder.

polar decomposite.

2009-11-21T00:54:00.004+08:00

i close my eyes,

(knowingly known and unknown)

to be drowned with voices.

i was waiting for you to drive by.

you told me to wait under the light,

(in me,)

so you could recognise me

in the shadows of the moon.

the moon lied.

so i find myself clawing through the dirt,

nails in the earth,

where you and i laid side by side.

i tried to cup the tear drop streaming

down your face- but i had no hands,

(you never blinked)

save the ones cuffed to the roots by my wings.

bubble wrap over my gullet, my nostrils-

to taste the breath from your mouth,

yours alone.

it's like i'm clinging on to the foil

you wrapped my perpetrated windows with.

i don't even understand what that means anymore.

i used to dream rivers.

right where i stood three years ago.

right where you hid behind the pillars of my estate.

right where you knew i could see you.

just so i couldn't.

so which voice do i listen to now?

how do i cradle my sanity

(knowingly known and unknown)

when all i hear is your footsteps behind the pillar.

sideways,

in trickery no iago could bequeath without blinking-

you never blinked.

in hoods and daggers,

(for fathoms penetration)

in me,

in me.

Rise, resty Muse,

2009-11-21T00:52:00.003+08:00

my love's sweet face survey,
If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
If any, be a satire to decay,
And make Time's spoils despised every where.

Sonnet #100

William Shakespeare

i want to thank you,

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for losing me.

i must confess.

2009-11-19T11:05:00.000+08:00

i have an almost obscene love affair with

emails and snail mail.

so you called last night.

2009-11-18T19:47:00.001+08:00

you called to tell me everything was okay
and to tell the family not to worry.

you said you didn't want us calling you to find out.

thing is,
will you tell me if this whole conversation we had,
was just another one of my crazy dreams?

it's like i'm seeing it all for the first time, everytime.

2009-11-18T17:19:00.004+08:00

punggol beach.

say hello.

2009-11-18T11:09:00.003+08:00

after 21 years, i've finally invested in my first camera ever.

here's my new baby, the Canon IXUS 100 IS.

:)

picture post!

2009-11-15T22:35:00.002+08:00

you know it's christmas again in singapore when orchard road is decked out in the lights and sounds of the most wonderful time of the year!

here're pictures from my week in town at ion, in little india and from my hotel room at fairmont hotel during my apec deployment. it's been a tiring week and i'm so glad i survived it.

here's to a good week ahead!

i didn't ask for any of this.

2009-11-15T07:46:00.002+08:00

in rigid defiance of a maybe's, may (be).

i'm so.

2009-11-14T12:55:00.001+08:00

i'm so.

you chose chanel,

2009-11-14T05:01:00.000+08:00

so much for chastity.

i stole your heart,

2009-11-13T19:30:00.001+08:00

and plead insanity.

doesn't joy simply mean

2009-11-13T10:10:00.001+08:00

subjective melancholy?

i awoke this morning and i couldn't stop the tears.

2009-11-12T06:23:00.003+08:00

because i realised i spent the whole night dreaming about you.

As,

2009-11-11T22:40:00.008+08:00

thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

Sonnet XCVI

William Shakespeare

my, tabula rasa.

2009-11-11T21:39:00.005+08:00

your mouth at my ears.

your lips spilling words i'd heard,

from too many before.

every time i see a picture of you,

i see your flesh before my eyes.

(your arm hooked over my chest,

your thigh wrapped over mine)

i feel the recoil of my breath on your neck,

your back.

there we were again, lying

motionless.

your mouth at my ears,

your lips spilling words i'd heard,

from too many others.

needless to say,

i looked up at the ceiling with tear masked eyes.

closing my eyelids,

ejaculated memories out of my heart and down my cheeks.

my body

may have risen a mere twenty-one years ago,

from the cataclysm of what man would name in his naivety,

birth.

but my soul

my soul is aged

like the pining of a single moment in time,

(like a nail sketched marker on a branch,

who's name has been forgot, for too many a winter)

where man could be

still.

these eyes of mine,

they're not the first windows my soul has peeped through.

i'm tired.

i'm tired of your mouth at my ears.

your lips spilling words i'd heard,

from too many.

tonight,

(soaping delirium,

all over an adventure crafted by the stars)

my ears have lips uncharted

searching for a second (showered in chance),

to whisper those

infamous words.

to think,

(in expectation's deceptive confidence)

i thought you'd be different.

then again,

2009-11-11T19:09:00.002+08:00

what good is an unbreakable heart?

you know,

2009-11-10T21:39:00.004+08:00

i don't dare look at pictures of you,

because i don't dare to look into your eyes.

pity,

2009-11-10T21:37:00.001+08:00

only in a wood scented wine, can my solitude finds rest.

through a lingering fog,

2009-11-10T21:35:00.002+08:00

down the lamp lit road, leading to a little place we only know as

down yonder.

so who can i blame,

2009-11-10T03:06:00.002+08:00

when i realise how you make my eyelids bat in slow motion.

i'd like to call it a reflection.

2009-11-09T12:54:00.007+08:00

milk my face with a rag and a bone

"it's a process of discovery"

someone once told me

i say two stabs in the dark for you

two stabs in the dark like some college romance

like two lovers sheltered by

the fragile cover of a trees shadow

as they devour their candle lit

car bouncing passion

simply because they need to

like an organ itching, hyperventilating orgasm

not because of some lofty hand-written directive

you know

i used to think that letters could make me smile

especially those enveloped in brown paper

you know, those with the stench

of some cycling, protesting, middle-class, blue collared worker

it's peculiar how morbidly blind we are

and how we share the same passion for it, say,

on the same level, cross dressers have for putting up fronts

i think it's even more peculiar knowing time will not change that

we like to tell ourselves it does

truth is, time's standing right by your crimson destined doorway

puffing a cigar

with an alice-in-wonderland-grin painted all over his face

appropriate, i must say

so i stepped my foot in the earth

it's a rehearsal for what will be

i want to make sure everything turns out right

the lights, the music, the veils, the colour of my wooden box

after all that's what we're put here for

to wet up our fetish for closure

our eternal longing for a ride in the black curtained horse carrriage

with none other

than his truly piloting a one way, no return journey

ah, you see the picture had been painted long before

your role is simple

just make sure that every second, of every day

that you muddle through your self proclaimed drearisome life

looking exactly

like how you were painted

no two ways about it

noted

picture post!

2009-11-09T12:31:00.005+08:00

so it's been a while since my last picture post.

highlights the past 2 weeks would be partying through halloween, a very sweet surprise lunch cooked by jojo, drinks with natalie foster, watching my mum's kids perform at her kindergarten and of course, the much anticipated wedding of jackie and mark. i've had a blast.

more importantly, this week marks 3 more months till the end of my national service :)

slow dancing in my bedroom,

2009-11-06T21:05:00.002+08:00

alone.

craving,

2009-11-06T16:27:00.002+08:00

hot sugared donut holes.

god it kills me how hard it is to find these here! brings me back to Dave and Busters down at orange county. so so good....

but who the hell else,

2009-11-06T16:17:00.001+08:00

is going to hold me down.

it's a revolver

2009-11-06T11:00:00.001+08:00

so line 'em up.

please,

2009-11-05T22:59:00.002+08:00

no more whispering.

cruising the streets of sengkang.

2009-11-05T12:42:00.000+08:00