we cannot change the cards we are dealt,
just how we play the hand.
Friday, December 31, 2004
6:33 AM
Politically Incorrect Rhymes
eve gave that forsaken apple to adam away from the eye of master.
eve brought adam to old changi hospital in a wide eyed tongue tied hustle.
eve fell down and broke her crown and adam came tumbling after.
the voices in my head-
Thursday, December 30, 2004
10:03 PM
Melting Chocolatas
sometimes i wonder why the fark did i put myself through all this shit. the rain was horrible, the sort of pelting bullets that streak through the night only to land on your back with an excruciating trippettytrip, and then your clothes get drenched up and you can't change cos you can't see cos its an ungodly 4am. skin gets caught up and shrunken like mr potato wading across a muddy puddle, and our poor 19 year old dicks screams for help whilst whirling in a pool of mud. the worst definitely, is the abhorrent mindset of our wing commander, who expects half farked soldiers like us to be put through a ranger course, of a maximum 3hr rest each day, which never was fulfilled of course due to our wonderfully fiendish officers. but half farked soldiers always get around with half farked solutions, and so sleep we did amidst missions of security patrol and ambush springs. and survive we managed.
happy new year by the way, its been an animated 2004. i've lost so much, but it ain't the little things that fall out of my pocket or the silly things that fall out of hand.. but rather, its the nothings in life which had fallen out of my mind. perhaps its amnesia, perhaps its the helmet, but i've put to the back of my head the things which bear no importance to me. gone were the days i turn to every hi and wave, realised i did there ain't enough time for these. 2004 had whisked by me like any book out weekends i've had, and time had eradicated every possibility of width and depth in my life. how i wished to embrace my all, but i have come to some sort of closure that i would rather love than be loved. i choose depth now, the depths of the sea and the tranquil silence it offers. like a womb. where we all belonged.
had a party at my place last christmas, seems ever so long ago. thank you you team of tall people, never had my hopes pinned on such wonders arising out of a sport. thank you kelvin and miss other half, for the accomodating patience and brilliant wine. thank you mr mingmao for the greatest gift in christmas, a conversation and a meagre smile. thank you pak for once again too many a word, too many a slab of kindness, and of course you silly bunches of girls and les pains alike for the clatter and clangs.
and these days i've appreciated my hidden tendency to compare every celebration calamity coincidence conjuncture ceremony to a similar circumstance a year back. and i do realise that things are changing with each passing minute as our balls drop and boobs droop, and for better change it heads. there is this consensual understanding in nature, that life is wasted on the living, but i'm not going to sit and muddle in the web of complexity. rather, i am going to unweave the mix up of lyrics in my days, and await a beautiful melody. bring it on 05.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, December 19, 2004
1:13 AM
On first earrings
i received a ring last sunday
it was a call from an angel
one ear's just a small part
of an entire body that makes it whole
happy first year my darling.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, December 12, 2004
6:20 PM
Burn
i burn. i burn with a devil inside me, writhing intemperately and coercively that all rational escapes. i try to snatch at them pronto, for fear they desert for good, but what little puissance that is left lingering in the broiling veins of mine refuses to bulge.
i burn. i burn with an inferno that my eyes blazes with a hatred for all things. i burn with a wildfire that spreads from the deepest chasm of my heart to the tips of my tender fingers. i burn as Hades would have me for the austere sins of incest and adultery.
fuck this dengue fever.
the voices in my head-
Friday, December 03, 2004
11:11 PM
News Flash
time for an update on the convivial little sergeant strolling about at sispec!
on military news, its been an heavenly three weeks, me booking in on a choopychuppy little ferry as the sun creeps above the sealine, shifting some pieces on some forsaken monopoly board till lunch, lifting some rusty rustic slabs of metal till 4, then taking the same choopychuppy little ferry out of tekong in the late afternoon.
three banausic weeks of prosaicness, yet no little pills of prozac i need to keep myself sane in the midst of this boredom. my muscles have grown a wee bit thanks to the rusty rustic slabs of metal, and i'm like half a penis length away from attaining my license.
ha, but as all dicks must find a pussy, all good things must come to an end, and i'm going to strip my sergeant rank at the end of this week to become a cadet, alongside a mass of privates and corporals. eight more gruelling months of trainee life, eight more bromidic months of regimentation. but as all pussies must find a dick, all bad things must come to an end, and i'm sure the light at the end of the tunnel presents a rewarding climax to the remaining months of my NS.
on old news, i drove to coronation on an impulse to down some crispy chicken, and it was with no surprise that i saw the same old aunty cooking in the same oily kitchen, and the same old friendly T-rex aunty taking the same orders of lemon chicken with barbeque sauce, and the same old grouchy uncle concocting ang teh with jelly in the same old 3 and half minutes he always takes.
and i touched my scalp and realised how little hair i had, black and un-geled, and how terribly ancient i am. how i wish i were back a year half ago, sitting round the same old tables, snatching green apple ice from mond jingfeng and ah cai, jianming across the table with the same old sulk, joshua arms around jianming trying to act a clown, yuhao a little away in the world of his own, fulun preaching to goodness-knows-where. i fancy it is just about growing up, and grew up we all did.
and in private news, we trekked this morning an inhuman 11km in the forgotten trails of macritchie. trees arched with an archaic lineage, lined both sides of the dirt track, tranquil and almost silent. and this un-tekongish smell of the rainforest, makes it so ethereal and unstained. at times chugging upslope with a 39kg weight on my back, a soft irregular pant on my back each speaking a thousand enlivening encouragement, how i wished the weight on my back would always be this. be you.
to sum it up, pareto optimality, someone else must be filled with utmost discombobulation. keep your eyes glued in here for more updates on the convivial little sergeant and his gay little thoughts!
the voices in my head-
i love my girl. a love so beautiful, symmetrical, tangible
God loves me. a love so great, unconditional, real.
my life in a nutshell. working towards loves of sorts. beautiful, symmetrical, tangible, great, unconditional and real.
a page, deliberately left blank.
Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking.
It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
I Corinthians 13:4-8
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