No analogies.
When I was really young, if I fell asleep on the sofa watching TV after dinner, Daddy would naturally carry me to my bed and I'd magically wake up in the comfor of my own room. At about the age of 10, Daddy would wake me up and walk me in at midnight. Now, I'll just be left there to wake up on my own and figure my way through the dark.
A blooming analogy, but not quite there yet.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
12:06am
Your voice is cold, but yet it still warms my inside.
You say hello and I wish I would die this very moment. You ask why I've called and I stammer, and finally conclude that I don't really know. It's late, and you lament, your voice husky from sleep. I know it is; why I called? No idea, no bloody idea at all. A machine creaks, and the gears grown... Another jam?
12:10am. I still hear the click of the receiver, and your voice turns to ice. Goodnight.
You say hello and I wish I would die this very moment. You ask why I've called and I stammer, and finally conclude that I don't really know. It's late, and you lament, your voice husky from sleep. I know it is; why I called? No idea, no bloody idea at all. A machine creaks, and the gears grown... Another jam?
12:10am. I still hear the click of the receiver, and your voice turns to ice. Goodnight.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Word jam.
It was 11:39pm when I opened up this page.
It's curently 11:46pm, and after staring at a blank screen for 7 minutes, I still can't think of what to type. There's so much I feel, but yet, nothing can be put into words. Like a paper shredder. 11:48pm now, oh wait, 11:49pm. Oh, my handphone and computer's clocks are working quite simultaneously.
11:50pm, paper jam. The shredder won't shred.
It's curently 11:46pm, and after staring at a blank screen for 7 minutes, I still can't think of what to type. There's so much I feel, but yet, nothing can be put into words. Like a paper shredder. 11:48pm now, oh wait, 11:49pm. Oh, my handphone and computer's clocks are working quite simultaneously.
11:50pm, paper jam. The shredder won't shred.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Passion.
It is your real passion.
I want to feel your weight pressing down on me, my hands firm around you. I want to feel your skin against mine, as I press my lips against your's. Let me warm your cold, dry lips. Let me hold you in my arms, as run my hands up and down your body, inwards and outwards, faster and faster. Let me feel your cold, metallic touch against my neck...
Let me play. Let me graduate.
I want to feel your weight pressing down on me, my hands firm around you. I want to feel your skin against mine, as I press my lips against your's. Let me warm your cold, dry lips. Let me hold you in my arms, as run my hands up and down your body, inwards and outwards, faster and faster. Let me feel your cold, metallic touch against my neck...
Let me play. Let me graduate.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Only words.
More than words to show you feel that your love for me is real...
A privilege I do not share with thousand other people out there. And the same chance I pray for each day. The ability to express one's love beyond words, but rather through expression and action, is something many take for granted. But only when that privilege and option is forcefully taken away, do you turn back and wish you had a chance more.
I love you.
A privilege I do not share with thousand other people out there. And the same chance I pray for each day. The ability to express one's love beyond words, but rather through expression and action, is something many take for granted. But only when that privilege and option is forcefully taken away, do you turn back and wish you had a chance more.
I love you.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
The aftermath.
A great big load of mess.
It started with some travelling, a bus trip down to Serangoon Gardens, which involved some tapping and waiting and collecting and walking. This then took me down to Vivo, and that's when the craziness begun. There was ironing and crimping, pulling and tugging, tying and pinning, and the brushing and dabbing and shaving and drawing.
After the fuss, it was a cab down to Capitol Towers where there was more waiting, waiting, drinking, talking and then I headed to Grand Copthorne. After loads of snapping and shouting, eating and applauding, and laughing and talking, I headed home for more tugging and wiping and what not, to get back to my original self.
And as I pumped my nineth pump of conditioner and massaged the eighth pump of shampoo into my scalp, there were recollection of the night's events running through of various insincere comments, forceful comments, the polite comments and the rare and unexpected you-look-like-a-slut comments.
But at the end of it all, I realised, I didn't really have the want to look fantabulous. Neither was I looking forward to the many compliments. I wasn't looking forward to the food either, or to finally find out who'll be crowned prom queen of king. And, only after $335 dollars spent, I realised, I didn't really want to go to Prom.
All I wanted was you, to have you wait at my living room as I fussed with my hair. Which, of course, I didn't get.
It started with some travelling, a bus trip down to Serangoon Gardens, which involved some tapping and waiting and collecting and walking. This then took me down to Vivo, and that's when the craziness begun. There was ironing and crimping, pulling and tugging, tying and pinning, and the brushing and dabbing and shaving and drawing.
After the fuss, it was a cab down to Capitol Towers where there was more waiting, waiting, drinking, talking and then I headed to Grand Copthorne. After loads of snapping and shouting, eating and applauding, and laughing and talking, I headed home for more tugging and wiping and what not, to get back to my original self.
And as I pumped my nineth pump of conditioner and massaged the eighth pump of shampoo into my scalp, there were recollection of the night's events running through of various insincere comments, forceful comments, the polite comments and the rare and unexpected you-look-like-a-slut comments.
But at the end of it all, I realised, I didn't really have the want to look fantabulous. Neither was I looking forward to the many compliments. I wasn't looking forward to the food either, or to finally find out who'll be crowned prom queen of king. And, only after $335 dollars spent, I realised, I didn't really want to go to Prom.
All I wanted was you, to have you wait at my living room as I fussed with my hair. Which, of course, I didn't get.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Stop it.
You're so darn young.
It always has to be about you doesn't it? Your suffering, your pain. You didn't have a choice, fine, and so I apologised. Try living your life as a coward, try living through the self-hate, the guilt, the regret. You wouldn't understand any of that because you didn't have to queue up for the tickets under the hot sun.
That's why you just won't bloody understand a thing.
It always has to be about you doesn't it? Your suffering, your pain. You didn't have a choice, fine, and so I apologised. Try living your life as a coward, try living through the self-hate, the guilt, the regret. You wouldn't understand any of that because you didn't have to queue up for the tickets under the hot sun.
That's why you just won't bloody understand a thing.
In code.
Oohchi, ilymywy and ymmgc and imvsfe.
Prom's like the only thing left. Counting the days. Till I'll see you again. I just wish you'd be waiting there, for me, take me in a cab to prom... But it won't happen.
So no one can question.
Prom's like the only thing left. Counting the days. Till I'll see you again. I just wish you'd be waiting there, for me, take me in a cab to prom... But it won't happen.
So no one can question.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Undefeated.
If Love could be taken down by just words of another person,
There would be no story of Romeo and Juliet, no story of a love that will last forever. John Smith would not have lived to see another day, had Pocahontas not flung herself upon him to protect his head at the execution stone. If Love could be defeated by words from a third-person, a mere witness...
What lies are the stories we've been told?
There would be no story of Romeo and Juliet, no story of a love that will last forever. John Smith would not have lived to see another day, had Pocahontas not flung herself upon him to protect his head at the execution stone. If Love could be defeated by words from a third-person, a mere witness...
What lies are the stories we've been told?
My birthday's on the 13th.
I'd do anything, anything at all...
Just to have someone hold my hand under the table during dinner on my birthday, to have someone hold me tight and make me feel that warmth I haven't felt for what seems so much like eternity. No, not someone, not just anyone. You. Well, needless to say, only you can make me feel that way.
Teppanyaki.
Just to have someone hold my hand under the table during dinner on my birthday, to have someone hold me tight and make me feel that warmth I haven't felt for what seems so much like eternity. No, not someone, not just anyone. You. Well, needless to say, only you can make me feel that way.
Teppanyaki.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
If destiny decides that I should look the other way.
Oliver James - Greatest Story Ever Told
Thank you for this moment
I've gotta say how beautiful you are
Of all the hopes and dreams I could pray for
Here you are
If I could have one dance forever
I would take you by the hand
Tonight is you and I together
I'm so glad I'm your man
And if I lived a thousand years
You know I never could explain
The way I lost my heart to you
that day
But if destiny decided I should look the other way
Then the world would never know
The greatest story ever told
and did I tell you that I love you
Tonight
I don't hear the music
When I'm looking in your eyes
But I feel the rhythm of your body
Close to mine
It's the way we touch that sends me
It's the way we'll always be
Your kiss your pretty smile you know I'd die for
Oh baby, you're all I need
And if I lived a thousand years
You know I never could explain
The way I lost my heart to you
that day
But if destiny decided I should look the other way
Then the world would never know
The greatest story ever told
and did I tell you that I love you
Tonight Tonight
And if I lived a thousand years
You know I never could explain
The way I lost my heart to you
that day
But if destiny decided I should look the other way
Then the world would never know
The greatest story ever told
and did I tell you that I love you tonight
Monday, November 9, 2009
Caught red-handed.
Sneaky?
I could hear her screaming, and shouting, her voice wavering with anger, or maybe, tears. My dad would say a word or two every now and then. And although my sister didn't say a thing, her satisfaction from everything was deafening. Everything is in a horrendous mess, now that I've been caught red-handed for indulging in pure bliss.
Maybe, but I may have learnt it from you.
I could hear her screaming, and shouting, her voice wavering with anger, or maybe, tears. My dad would say a word or two every now and then. And although my sister didn't say a thing, her satisfaction from everything was deafening. Everything is in a horrendous mess, now that I've been caught red-handed for indulging in pure bliss.
Maybe, but I may have learnt it from you.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Godamnit, I'm sixteen?
Tis the season to be studying...
Been a strange but pretty memoriable day in fact. To wake up coughing my lungs out, was shit. But I enjoyed the 26 messages that awaited me. After the visit to the doctors, I had a great lunch with The Greatest. A short hour of sneaking around can make my day. Thanks, everyone, for the various text messages, spam mail, various [wake up] calls.
Thanks for making today more then a day of literature.
Been a strange but pretty memoriable day in fact. To wake up coughing my lungs out, was shit. But I enjoyed the 26 messages that awaited me. After the visit to the doctors, I had a great lunch with The Greatest. A short hour of sneaking around can make my day. Thanks, everyone, for the various text messages, spam mail, various [wake up] calls.
Thanks for making today more then a day of literature.
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