we cannot change the cards we are dealt,
just how we play the hand.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
8:35 AM
Pain Planes III
Thursday, October 07, 2004
2:04 AM
Pain Planes II
i'm leaving on a jet plane
why, you ask. am i insane?
no no. i say, simple yet strained
eyes drooped, sleepy slow and faint
the beginning, do we remember?
young and tender, BMT peers
little did we have to cheer,
for freedom lost, and thats for sure
then came the time of P.O.P
last waves of hi and smiles that charge a fee
then the time came for you and me
to head different places, and so will be
rude snides, pig calling, times in sispec
days so pissed sergeants slapped me on the back
we chiong, its shiong, to a man and from a fag
the same old waikit, a little more black
now the time comes, three weeks long and plain
i'm leaving on a jet plane
why, you ask. am i insane?
and then i realise, veins rushed with a lovesick bane
i'll
miss
you
darling.
--
hell. and i thought that would have been the last time.
i seemed to have come a long way, running my liability of NS in an acclivous path. up a terrible knoll, with that beautiful rainbow snugged at the top of it. battling insectiphobia back at BMT, then bestowed upon the untaken path of crossing over to OCS from SISPEC, and finally a fairytale displacement to stagmont camp to be trained as a battalion signal officer.
i have finally come to some form of a closure. its never enough, it will never be. whether i'm beholding the sword of honour and leading a platoon of gung-ho guardsmen up yet another terrible knoll or tucked beautifully in a office leading a section of clerks shreading paper, its immaterial. relevantly inconsequential.
and so now i say. with a stamped foot and a clenched fist. i shall take no part further in this role in the cosmic play of green and mud, black and soil.
three weeks into taiwan once again, and i sense the end is near. see you guys in a month.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, May 22, 2005
8:48 PM
On Tears
i've seen the best in girls, and the worst
and yesterday, i witnessed a little pink gnome amongst the abstract, the sweet, the simple and the flummoxed.
this little pink gnome toys with the most fundamental of emotions, and wrecks the most complex of lives. its a dishevel of trust, its an upheaval of fuss. it complicates, it implicates. it refuses, it confuses.
this little pink gnome is the antithesis of love.
the voices in my head-
Friday, May 20, 2005
5:05 AM
Nose Botch Hodgepodge
someone send me a plumber
my nose is spoilt. gone farked.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, May 15, 2005
6:20 AM
The Blower's Baby Boy
sung a song this weekend, most unceremoniously, in F# minor
a complicated scale
sung a thought this weekend, most scrupulously, in C major
a simple inkling
sung a girl to sleep, this weekend, in an unknown key
a key alien to my fingers which had fluttered the blackwhites of a piano since three
perhaps it was a good thing to have had her ring back on my side for a day, i'm loving her so much more now. so so much more
the voices in my head-
Saturday, May 14, 2005
5:27 AM
On Storming Off
never been so mean to a girl before, i must admit. and i'm sorry my queen for last night, i could have given a freaky flying fuck bout it all, but i was just trying to be that bit braver than what i usually would be, to teach you what a little ms nothing taught me, a long forgotten 3 years back.
i was just like you, perhaps just that bit taller. but my friends loved me too much to hate me for what i would always throw at them, and they loved me too much to tell me off, for they might lose the little waikit in a fit of tantrum.
until one day, when i was too horribly late. 2 hours upon a valentine's day. with a perfectly valid reason this time. unspoken, unexpressed, yet unforgiven and unforgotten indubitably, and my heart aches in recollection of that very day.
and i told myself, late i shan't no more. too many seconds had i so wretchedly stolen from unsuspecting victims, and too many outings had i so demeaningly put myself as a guest of honour, all whilst condescending to my peers
so this little waikit grew. not just the height. but rather he grew up
all due to his little ms nothing
a brave little soul who told me whats right, and whats not.
the voices in my head-
Friday, May 13, 2005
5:49 AM
Around the World
i took bus 66 from school to bedok, walked to east coast, kayaked to changi, and by that i meant to kayak westwards then north and around the perimeters of our island, took the pretty penguin ferry to tekong and back, hopped onto a taxi to the airport, booked a ticket for Tiger airways and suffered many a turbulences around the world and back to the tiny red dot, climbed on board the east-west line to newton, and finally put myself on 171 heading towards yishun, all to get myself to coro for a plate of lemon chicken.
in a nutshell, my dear friend managed to size up my previous entries and rationalise my emotions, all upon an early monday morn. and i thank her for that.
we're fine now, very fine indeed. thank you all for your concern.
the voices in my head-
Friday, May 06, 2005
7:58 PM
don
i cried last night. i cried this morn.
but i keep telling myself i was the one had chosen this path, and dragged her along with me
and now there's no turning back. there's no little pixie to mobilise the whole world to hunt me down, just as the incident before my enlistment when i attempted to embark on this wretched path as well.
and now there's no turning back. there's no little princess to tap the great oak door with bags upon bags of my favourite eateries at 2am when i'm immersed amongst my dear friends, swirling amidst my wretched obsessions
and now there's no turning back. if she too has given up, what more could i have hoped for
and i say a silent prayer of thanks, for this had been easier than the last. a peaceful death to our love in grandeur. yet my heart strings tingle, not with a hope of peacefulness, but with a pipe dream of peace.
so i cried last night. and i cried this morn.
not for the fear of losing her for good, not for the times i miss, but for putting her through this once again.
the voices in my head-
don'
i had this gift, of speaking out to the masses yet speaking to one. but i hate to speak in riddles, not anymore, not on this.
you have taught me the beauty of life. that life was just worth living with loving. that love overcomes all, that impossible is impossible. i would not have imagined being taught by one such as you, a girl half of what i am, with a heart twice of what i bear.
no girl would do what you had done. no one would do what you had done. to love so deeply it drowns, to love so truly it stings. you are someone who is looking for love, real love, ridiculous, inconvinient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love.
and i can't give that to you
you empty every cent on me. the things you put upon me would scarcely fit any place
but your heart. you spend every waking moment with me. the many schedules you hurl out the weekend window for me would stretch a lifetime.
yet all you ask for were a simple blouse. a little outing upon a sunday dawn.
and i won't. for thats not what i had loved you for. i hadn't loved you for a little outing upon a sunday dawn. i hadn't loved you for a little cuddle beneath a splash of passion. i hadn't loved you for emptying every cent on me. i hadn't loved you for spending every waking moment with me.
i loved you for loving me. and i had believed, still believe, and will believe for as long as i will live, that we were as what we had dreamt to be, a couple basking in the dusk of a wooden pouch, fingers twined amdist the all familiarity.
still remember how we got together? a night of deceit and confusion ending with an accidental love. still remember the tale of the frog and dog? weeks of turmoil in place of an honeymoon. still remember the meet-my-family sessions? and how you shuddered and feared while my folks got to love you, possibly more than i would ever do. probably more than i would ever learn how to.
you loved me with a love so omnipresent, so omnipotent, yet all i could ever reciprocate was a meagre bit of what you showered upon me. yes, i had learnt to love you, but its not enough. its never enough. it would never be enough
i have borne testimony that true love does exist, that true love comes along with complete truth, the unstained, the ugly, the truth as truth is. as a burp would be. as a fart would do.
you speak of another guy trying to hit into your life in a simple truth, yet i speak of another girl in my life with a web of complexity
you speak of your passions in your life with a chaste innocence, yet i speak of my obsessions from behind a mask
you speak of your love in the universal language, i speak it in my realm of aphasic.
each sunday i book in, a certain pang of regret hits me. why hadn't i spend more time with you. why hadn't i let you kiss me just this bit more. why hadn't i abandon mahjong on the friday night. why hadn't i left the courts a minute earlier to have a minute more with you.
and then i see that image of you, by the lonesome chair with a solitaire book on your lap. eyes propped over the page, peering at me, once or twice plucking at your eyes.
and then i see that image of you, slouched behind the wheel, rattling away about your loves and nots, fetching me from clementi to kovan, kovan to chua chu kang, chua chu kang to town, town to the courts in bukit timah. and all i could return would be an occasional peck on your cheek, head more so ever on the glass pane, fatigue overwhelming me from my games.
and the love would turn to guilt. a guilt so poignant it would tear me apart
your love isn't a lover's love. its a love of a lifetime. a love of eternity. a mother's love. God's love, even. and for that, i can't love you
i ain't ready.
i'm sorry. i know this doesn't make sense. i love you, but i can't
and you deserve better, much. much better.
--
if you love her let her go. if she is meant to be, she would return, and you will cherish her forevermore. for then and for eternity.
the voices in my head-
Thursday, May 05, 2005
5:35 AM
don't
to see to meet to know to like to fall to want
to hold to cry to lean to grasp to kiss to long
to love
too swayed too proud too curt too young too grown
too vain too rich too male too much too blunt
too loved
to. two. too. the story of the big o
the voices in my head-
Sunday, May 01, 2005
11:22 PM
On Banana Chocolate and Eight Bamboos
i felt thrown back to school yesterday. the basketballers yakking on my left, fulun uncharacteristically not speaking of cell groups and services, wanjun pouting opposite me, mingmao on my right trying to mask an elucidation of astonishment, sanduo whining at royston for the 9324087th time that he was mercilessly cleared at the mahjong table, hamburger siongkun blasting in the background, all the whilst meeting his match with the little princess, i laid back in my seat and savoured the taste of a unique wholesomeness once more, half hovering in the air, half swirling in my memory.
today is a good 12 hours away, and the somewhat invigorating feeling lingers. perhaps thats what they call happiness being the highest good, as a realisation and a perfect practice of virtue. and by that, you are either in it, or not.
so you see, my friends. there is a very fine line between happiness and nausea.
and am i glad no one was inclined to hit the toilets after consuming that awfully bananaish chocolate mahjong cake.
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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