we cannot change the cards we are dealt,
just how we play the hand.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
1:49 AM
Jack Queen King
to each there will always be, a little more it seems
in paths we take in days we live, a little less to dream
in it for long you say so loud, one more chance to thee
yet out now you so claim in peace, out and far away from me.
i wish you luck, should you take thy straight or crooked route
remember this, my 16cm does not declare that all would bestow such length
and in no measures, no guy shall speak for half the world
just so seemingly so, no girl shall speak for the rest of it.
you have been lucky
and so have i
and now indeed, without a doubt,
i am, still. a very lucky boy.
in other news, the keys have been passed on.
Monday, December 18, 2006
8:44 PM
Burial
it is 6 days after what could have been a third year. and i am sorry, because i had no patience to wait. i had no patience, because i felt that wait would bring about nothingness.
i hugged pinkstar, grumpybear, bigheart, fishball one last time this morning, your scent distant but familiar. stashed them along with five boxes of things, things which bear snippets of your soul, and hid them where i would never see them again. the lock was cold, an unfitting guardian but it was the best i could do. the keys, warm and wet, would find their separate ways to more worthy ministering angels.
even angels falter at times.
but they always, always. pick themselves up.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, January 27, 2007
8:43 PM
Silence
i was sitting at a coffee shop, half hour to kill before my tuition class, and i dazed into space, sporadically placing a piece of rojak into my mouth.
i gazed around, and i saw this couple four metres away, sitted in silence. i stared, blatant and most unglamourously, because they were ancient. their skin were wrinkled like a prune, but even a prune had luscious flesh beneath. it was more like a preserved plum, deformed on the outside and cakey with each bits on the brink of disintegration.
they were 70, 80 perhaps. seated opposite each other, sharing a bowl of claypot black pepper chicken, yet in the course of their meal, they never did look each other in the eye. each was oblivious to the other, and in the rare occasion that their eyes flicker in sync, they looked away from each other so rapidly it was unnatural, for one that aged.
worse than that was the silence. silence like a womb. not a word was uttered, not even a cough or sneeze. they were entombed within bodies of crumbling bits, ethereal beings void of poetic imagination and animal communication.
i asked myself, what in the world would i give, so i should not carve myself such an ending. had they perhaps ran out of conversations? had they perhaps gone out of thoughts? had they perhaps lived out of time? had they perhaps misaligned their lives to different centres of gravity?
what old couple, with half a century of togetherness upon their belts, would speak nothingness and await death in solitude? had it not been sung
i wanna make you smile whenever you're sad
carry you around when your arthritis is bad
all i wanna do, is to grow old with you
i'll get your medicine when your tummy aches
build you a fire if the furnace breaks
it would be so nice, to grow old with you
if i could had the powers of sight, i wish not to see the future. i would had given much to see the paths embarked by the two ancient specimens, so i would not tread them. so i would know what to choose. so i would know how to choose. so i would know who to choose. so i know what to choose.
and perhaps more aptly, so i might know what could i give up in life, and what i should hold on to.
because i do not want to end up like them.
the last pineapple into my mouth, and my alarm buzzed. it was 10 minutes to 5 and i strode off to my car. i still, could not fanthom the ridicule of such antediluvian love. wasn't love omnipresent, the only constant just as change is. i would never accept the difference in times to explain the failures of love, because love can be nurtured, and love never fails.
the law of conservation of energy states that energy cannot be created nor destroyed, pray tell. love exists in the depths of our soul and needs no coerced creation, it cannot be destroyed. love indeed, is an energy.
and as i skidded out of my lot, i saw the silhouette of an old man and an old woman, palms clasped, a slight swing in their arms, walking ever so slowly across the road.
the voices in my head-
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
11:46 PM
Temasek
i will return the favour.
the voices in my head-
Monday, January 22, 2007
5:23 PM
Horizon.
how would you ever know if she is the right one? how many times would you need to fall in love, how many times would you need to fall that slippery slope and land at square one, with the horizon as your only comfort?
i had torn away from one of my focal points in life, and yes perhaps for all the wrong reasons, and i might regret it in the days to come. but if there were one thing to learn, there is nothing ever, in this world, to regret.
because regret always stems from a decision, and a decision sprouts from a crossroad. when one regrets, he embarks on a road while recollecting possibilities of the other, but what say you if you had taken the other road?
there would still be regrets, my dear.
if there were something to learn, there should not be regrets, there should not be "what if"s, there should not be "i could have", and indeed these lessons garnered a high price.
to fall in love is easy, even to remain in it is not difficult, for our human loneliness is cause enough. but it is a hard quest worth making to find a comrade through whose steady presence one becomes steadily the person one desires to be.
but i seek solace, because all things heal with time, and all matters come to equilibrium. but the lessons we learn live on.
with my new love, i shall love without regrets.
and with hers, she might perhaps find he who will love her much more than she does.
love, with appreciation and understanding. which i had sorely lacked, and this too i will learn.
but love never fails, as you have shown me, and the bible tells me so.
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.
1 Corinthians 13:4-8
the voices in my head-
Saturday, January 20, 2007
2:21 AM
Grey and Brown
i went to NJC for lunch today, reputable prawn noodles so she claims, but albeit the prawn hadn't lived up to expectations, the colours of blue green and red killed the assumptions of greys i had in years. it didn't seem dreary at all.
and so i sat there, a little ancient creature while 20 years old could still frolick with her juniors, and it hit me. i'm an old fart. a fart so old it had risen into the clouds and killed some passing birds.
its sad, isn't it. as i stared across dunearn road from the NJC canteen, towards a clock tower so familiar, and i could have sensed mr old chang kee, rather the statue of tan kah kee beckoning at me.
those were the days. where i could fight with yuji and yuda, and have had fans swirling inches from my head while being punished to stand on the table with dalglish beside me, yongfeng stopping dear lai chiang from hitting my head with my shoe, solomon cheating desmond's money right beneath his nose, vcd piano basketball goreng pisang strip smoke underwear mentos sin curve pink dolphin burn liero gang pak what else could i ask for.
to more recent times, my tour of the grey kingdom drew to a close and i went back to hwachong. alas, these days they not only concertinalise the gates so the likes of myself could not climb the gate in the rare occasions that i do arrive in school, they place a freaking boom to the carpark, and a royal guardhouse to man the entrance as well.
my white lancer drew to a close, and this moment was classic. uncle cheong stared into my car, and his eyes registered a distant memory, far yet recollectable, and i saw a tiny flicker in his eyes. i could have sworn to the holy pattayan prostitutes of tasmania that uncle cheong is the hovering icon of hwachong. in times of change, where principals would leave and tables turned, names revamped and campuses altered, this man remains. solid in stature.
its weird, how my nemesis could invoke the only sense of familiarity and feel of acquaintance on a brown kingdom where i once breathed amity and savoured camaraderie.
respect, and thanks from the depths of my heart. old pal.
the voices in my head-
Thursday, January 18, 2007
3:16 PM
Voodoo
its funny, how some say i am a curse.
lower secondary, i remember flying to turkey with my class of post-pubertised boys and when i returned the country was shaken by an earthquake.
upper secondary it was, i climbed the nepal hills with a bunch of jokers and tequilla on our haversacks, and when i returned a crazy prince wiped out his entire royal family with a submachine gun.
my army times weren't spared, the first time i soaked upon the taiwan winter, a typhoon was brimming the outskirts of the city, and it came crashing in the moment i landed back at singapore.
and the first time i returned from australia, a racial outcry sparked the streets. the second was commemorated with a bushfire the size of singapore.
and service trip indeed to china, bird flu was bestowed upon them weeks after leaving nawang village.
it ain't just the places, weird thing is.
the only time i went down to clementi sports hall, she was donned with a rare defeat in the fencing arena.
the only time i went down to watch a little girl's choreograph, the centennial trophy was coloured orange instead of blue.
yesterday, i should have perhaps just stayed at hall and trained a new hero.
the voices in my head-
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
5:26 PM
Courtship
i would rather play a great game and lose the match than win it cheering from the bench.
how selfish, ain't we both.
the voices in my head-
Friday, January 12, 2007
9:30 PM
Seven Up
in a year, i would be at the university of Austin, Texas, and i wonder if i could ride a horse to school.
in other news, cambodia photos and videos are up!
it was a short trip, littered with soil and bustled with kids, and for the very first time i watched fireworks in passing of 06, in solitude. yet in tranquility.
2006 was a year of ups and downs, and albeit in every sense cliche, this year was a blitz of up and down in direct chronology. up then down, and down down down. girl. down. leg. down. hospital. down. studies. down. age. down. operation. down. stitch. down. basketball. down. haha.
they say you can't get any lower when you're downest, and i will see about that won't i. 2007 here i come.
the voices in my head-
Thursday, January 11, 2007
3:17 PM
they asked, if i am in love.
and i shrug, i don't know.
i do not mean to escape. nor do i ever run, much like ruella. and even if i do, i circle the earth only to return where i came from.
yes, i do love. much you can see, my dear friend nee, i am a very confused boy. you tell me, life isn't about making the best decisions, and life isn't about what ifs, and i nod my long neck in agreement.
we can't live the future, so what say us to decision making? we can't live the past, so what say us to pondering possibilities?
but taking some time off to laugh at my A+ in MNO, decision making isn't about the end result, because there could have had divine interventions that alter a bad decision to a good consequence, or imps from hell that recast a good decision to a bad consequence. treasure your fairy dance won't you, because you would not wish to be in my shoes.
they're sized 11, much too big.
they ask, if i am in love.
and i nod now, yes i am in love.
i only pray i am in love with a girl, and not with love.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, January 07, 2007
1:36 PM
Cambodia Heartbeat
it was the furthest i could have run, but the earth is round i reckon.
i am back, in any case.
updates to follow.
for now, a little sleep after a teabag of conversations.
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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