with faint disgust

it's almost tragic, how sometimes history has a way of putting us down.
.

and when you're down, that's when fading memories get a jolt.
.


so swiftly and coldly marks the knives of yesterdays.

the birds and the eggs

2.40am. instead of sleeping i'm here blogging about a colleague/friend's blog on which she wrote (a year ago):

During a phone conversation with the darling just now, he said something that goes like:

"Let's remember not to call our kid Nelson (because "鸟生蛋")

.

.

.

"And also not Nelbuson Tan (because "鸟不生蛋")

HAHAHA.

And i replied:

this comes a little late but anyway..

I had an acquaintance named Nelson Tan back in sec sch. but no one dared to laugh at him openly, because he also happens to be the biggest ah beng in our sch.

the only other ah beng (2/2) did ever punch him once though.

That was AHS circa 1997.
.

and since we're on birds, or i am, my neighbour for some unfathomable reason, keeps an ugly common mynah in a cage outside their flat.

one morning on my way to work and while waiting for the lift, i saw 3 other free mynahs - free as in both uncaged and free, no need to work - standing outside the cage, sometimes poking their beaks through the grills, chirping to the poor captive.

the scene tugged at something in me. is that love?

the morning after

the air is cool under the sapling's shade; beyond shadows the sun a burning rage.

It's not about the run

Today is a day when a bit of dark clouds said it all.

Perhaps i surprised myself by taking it just a bit too seriously, but then again, it's not something i can control with a flick of the switch.

It was a run that shouldn't be, and I could felt it hours before, though still I wanted it to happen. So anyway run I did, breaking off to run alone, and thanks for the resulting nipple abrasion.

In the end, everything matters enough to irk me and it shows on my usually emotionless face. not all, but enough to tell. left me somewhat impressed by your influence on me.

.

sometimes i think i'm bitter about life. looking happily optimistic is but a disguise or an escape, i can't tell. or that could be just the schizophrenic side of me. guess i'm terrific at hiding things.


.

today suck so much i feel sick now.

no need for words

the longevity of memories in a sparkler's lifetime.

when spirits soar
left behind is the patient humming
of loyal nights
,
and this the state of the human heart,
i can't say i am much surprised.

.

some came as wounds of the past
who left behind blood and a scab
the deeper ones carved faint tattoos
beneath the hardened crust

you though, are like a broken bone,
a torn tendon and a ligament
nine inches scar on tattered skin
a lifetime of broken symphony