we cannot change the cards we are dealt,
just how we play the hand.
Monday, July 31, 2006
3:08 AM
Kiss Goodbye Lee Hom
twelve years off the big black pearl
a pirate's hunt for his treasure
never thought it so simple
when one and all thought it a curse
a kraken rose out from the depths
nailing twisting piercing flanks
just so in the nick of time
use thirteen pounds of gunpowder
"next please!" yes and so it is
my courage surpassed me. your courage surprised me.
pleasantly surprised.
the voices in my head-
Friday, July 28, 2006
1:15 AM
the Die is Cast and the Cast is Dead
lana cakes so chocolatey beautiful. wink a little cheeky grin. naughty girl wanes sexy butt. jut that dickhead out of sight.
jut lana oh wink! i wane.
luna moonfang eclipse on eleven. leaving on a jet to rome. ink our romance kiss that girl. win my heart you long have had.
how a luna win a jet ink?
you solve this please come to me. brains quite as big as my dick. i need such flair quite at once. oh lest confounded confucius conviciousity conduces confusion.
pray tell, who then. who.
the voices in my head-
Thursday, July 27, 2006
2:33 AM
Badbye
i need to climb my attic and sit atop the roof with two litres of water and a loaf of chocolate bread
take me to the haunt where we once sang our frog songs
take me to the macs where we used to draw on tissue
take me to the home where we put my house on fire
take me to the place where angels never jilt upset nèe
chermain, teach me how to fly won't you.
the voices in my head-
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
5:41 PM
Pirates and Such
potter xmen matrix starwars ringlords spiderman.
may i congratulate them. each binds a loyalty trademark that speaks to be continued, perhaps not in bold but a hovering sensation that smacks us in our face. they spell the lack of an ending. an unending cessation of plots, leaving much to be nurtured.
its a pity the audience who shared these shows would come to some form of closure soon, where there is nothing to be continued but the wisps atop narnia jovially untwining nits.
the voices in my head-
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
11:29 PM
Sisters
this is Julie's strawberry love letters from me to you
when ancient nymphs join under noon
the lightsticks we threw into gombak
i wished i wished i wished
for that one sole little prayer
that you and her shall stay forever true
but yesterday night
i ruined it all
the last strand lingering hope
that beginning shall be revived
it had been a long wait
but if anthony could date cleopatra
and if romeo could love juliet
i too, can love you
man after all ain't that magnanimous
so forgive me when i say sorry
for expunging that lingering hope
and indulging in what i once called the fool's game
what ifs.
and i told myself silly boy you
i shall cry for the one last time
for you
as i lay my arms around
and my fingers twirl in fear
enough is, quite enough
i am still a little boy
and i shall love whom i loved
who i love
and whom i very shall love.
thank God my tears were silent
last
night.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, July 22, 2006
11:01 PM
Pirated
humbled by the simple pleasures of life, yet subjugated by the complicated velleities of the past.
jazz upon a sacred hill on a lonely night, yet not quite lonely after all. i thank you.
in other news i shall attempt a chermainish escapism to the land of the north and shall be back on tuesday. in need of urgent services please feel free to chase me till the petronas towers, up the 452m of 32000 windows and have a date with me at its lightning conducting rod.
the voices in my head-
Thursday, July 20, 2006
9:09 PM
Please
it is too much, and it is coming too fast
i cannot grasp my past my present my future all at the same time. i cannot ponder each day about happy thoughts and silly what ifs. i cannot travel from yishun to depot to earn my fuel for the week. i cannot hop from Prudential to Suntec each week trying to keep track of unit trusts. i cannot have my ball my game my sport tainted by dirty politics. i cannot have the energy to be immersed in camps yet where else to run. i cannot meet my old friends for fear of the question. i cannot meet my new friends for fear of the question. i cannot answer are you okay. i cannot reply the truth because they know me as waikit the great. i cannot answer are you attached. i cannot reply the truth because i don't know the truth. i cannot look at the girl i wish to love and wrench a smile out of nothing. i cannot look at the girl who wishes to love me and play her between like barbie and ken. i cannot look at the girl whom i love and who loves me and tell her everything is okay, because it just fucking isn't.
so what do i when i cannot.
i run.
and what do i when i cannot longer run.
i sprinkle glass by me and sit by the quay and drink till i drop and pray a little prayer to be sliced in sympathy and drowned in pity. amen.
the voices in my head-
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
11:18 PM
Why?eNam e
and for an acute moment in my adulthood, i could bear it no longer. for all i sought was to make clear of an issue, not to distinct whats right from wrong, because quite simply put, i don't even know whats right and wrong. so listen at times, shut up and listen.
the game has been tainted by politics, and even the innocent shall be dragged into it. i elbow you, he hate him, you envy him, he stare me, i scold him, he push you, you foul him, he kick me, fuck you all.
oh and i must applaud you, shortest of all. for the wonderful guts and magnificent cheek in even attempting to touch my girl once-belonged. say you ask me, i would spontaneously applaud you even if you had thought about it one second, but to get down and try, you deserve a standing ovation and an utmost salute. a pity you failed flamboyantly, but at least now i could safely denounce the myth that big dicks come packaged with small guys.
now if you please, fuck off and die.
the voices in my head-
Monday, July 17, 2006
10:51 PM
On Sails and Surfs
there is an inert beauty somehow
a bubble of brisk effervescence
of warm energy and seamless enthusiasm
eyes wide of a puppy, endearing facade
two years deep the moat of age
a bridge too wide so some might claim
but amidst the lack of time in mind
she quietly unages, stealthily unhinges this boy quite naive
but this tough nut, ain't so tough
too innocent at heart and a tad still young
but what say me to this royal nymph
to hell temptress she and succubus her
enough of the dickheads speaking voices in my head
so why not tip toe back in time
to white snow woods of an Enid pee Blyton
and ascend faber hill to tarts and wine
there is now, nothing to lose
just my name perhaps, but
even that, ain't much to hold.
careful, you don't know me. yet
the voices in my head-
Basic Instinct
it was magical.
you never changed a bit.
i wouldn't have cared if you had turned cynical, or had my maturity descended upon me like the cloud of Sauron. each time we looked into each other, i see that little waikit skipping down East Sussex Lane, speaking in brisk excitement of an angelic fencer and a gifted artist.
and when we speak of age-old history, we see the little children of yesterday hands clasped, dancing in glee at a chinese adventure camp of a decade half ago.
i was glad i had shared my first ticket of legal adulthood with you, and most certainly, sharon stone.
it would have been beautiful to have you as mine, if only it weren't so damn incestuous. a touch of sophistication, a sprinkle of batman and strawberry shortcakes, i couldn't have asked for someone who understood me better.
my dear fairytale sister, may we walk upon the treacherous waters of life so apart yet together, and when the waves come crashing down on us, let us look at the past and remember the golden days.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, July 15, 2006
2:05 PM
Running
i have been running a great race, with no start and no end. sometimes i look around me, and in accompaniment is the solitary wind. cold wind of an early morn.
i look back, and i see the wake of my steps, no. my step.
but its okay, i tell myself each day. one day the race shall end, and possibly, probably, rather hopefully, with a little stair.
but for now, i run each day to SingPost where i would immerse myself in the next ten hours in brutal financial advising, investment planning, insurance policies, and a whole load of adult-ery activities.
in other news i chased after a girl yesterday, and it struck me that it was the first time i had ever chased one.
yet strangely i couldn't catch up.
there have been several instances in the past week where i sat in the class of 30 eager 30 year old financial advisers and things were running through my mind. may i know my dear waikit, what the fuck are you doing here? and i scratched my head too, wondering what the fuck.
in more serious business, i ran away from what could have been the most catastrophic morning in my life. black cats upon the witching hour beats black bras upon sleepy morns. but i'm honoured dear pal, quite so.
and so i say, there is enough running. running from - and running to - and running away. but running ain't somewhat as harrowing, for what is most portentous is running and not knowing where you shall end.
welcome home cher, boat quay ya?
the voices in my head-
Sunday, July 09, 2006
10:47 AM
Inside Out
our final thoughts during depressing experiences can tell us much about our frameworks of subjectivity. a framework capable of sustaining action and purpose, must view the world "from the inside", structured to sustain the concept of a continuing growing loving narrative self; and whilst we remake the world in that way as our own, investing it with meaning, reconceiving it as sane, survivable, amenable to hope, inspiration, love and resolution.
yet the lack of fit between this subject centred version and reality comes on stage in extreme moments of depression. in its final frantic momentary attempts to protect itself from the knowledge that threatens the narrative framework, the mind can instantaneously fabricate terminal doubt of absurd proportions and extravagant boundaries. this is not really happening. this is a nightmare from which i will soon awake. this desparate delusion split apart as i saw the little silhouette walk out that door. in that flash, i glimpsed the world for the first time "from the outside" as a world no longer my own, an unrecognizable bleak landscape composed of raw necessity to eat and sleep, indifferent to my life or death.
this is really not happening. this is a nightmare from which i will soon awake.
i have been dreaming, too much. too often.
it is 10:47pm and i need to go to sleep. i have a run scheduled with the morning dew in 7 hours and a date with the beautiful sunset at west coast.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, July 08, 2006
4:23 PM
Any More
a cactus quite tall once flourished in the deserts of waikiki
but the storms gathered and the waves crashed
and he ran quite a little distance
to a stretch of beautiful lavenders, blossoms of roses and beds of lillies
alas he pricked them all.
i couldn't bring myself to enjoy sports camp
in fact, i just cannot bring myself to enjoy anything anymore.
so stop, please, just stop asking if i'm okay.
because i refuse to lie anymore.
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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