up north

off to Jerangkang Falls. may it not rain for the next three days.

be happy

she teeters on the mind like the last drop of pee that wouldn't fall

To the love of my life

I don't enjoy watching soccer in the same room with strangers, for it really gets on my nerves when these so called 'fans' keep blabbering on stuff that they know shit about. And if you can't have an opinion that's not read from somewhere else, i think you really should just keep your mouth shut.

Example of a groundless statement: "What is Benitez doing? He's playing a midfielder in the left-back position!!" - felt like slapping him, and double the slap if he have the cheek to call himself a liverpool fan. John Arne Riise IS a leftback first and foremost.

Example II: "Sissoko is crap. Why was Hamann sub-ed in for Alonso instead? Now they got two who can't play a pass." - Sissoko had a great game, if the idiot is too blind to realise. Alonso was and had been off-form for the past 3 matches. And without Hamann, there wouldn't have been no European Cup no. 5.

And ladies.. just because you've once watched a game whereby a particular team won, it doesn't give you the right to call yourself a FAN of that team, especially if you can't name or recognise anyone from the team.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been a long journey, the two of us. We've had our fair share of ups and downs throughout the years. Sometimes, there were drab affairs, but more often than not, there were sweet sweats of so many passionate nights. Tender and faithful adoration i have for you, though i beg your forgiveness for the occasional clenched fists and shoutings. Day after day I long to see you my love, however far apart we may be. I swear to always cherish you, and to love you for many and many a year to come..

Happy Valentine's Day, Liverpool FC.

clouds

 

to look at fluffy clouds
i wish i am a bird
flap my wings and fly
into the deep blue sky

on life

As is ever so often, we understand life,
only on the brink of death.

John Doe [1981 - still kicking]

jumbled

feeling vaulted at home. caged in the heart. like lens without light. words without a voice. feel it. can't get it out. unwritten memories of tomorrow. hold a pen. its hollow content. write black on black. nothing can be read. empty brackets. fill in my blanks. in search of bliss. saw but not seen. felt but not held. to look yonder. hiding sunrise. shielding moon light. across the road. the meadows green. and cow grazes. shadows in flight. see me running. yet out of reach.

cold november rain

lost. shall i stop what i find bliss in?
i remember this familiar feeling clearly
nice, but just not.



suddenly, knee pain.

i think i'm moody.

step back. step back. let it go.

breathe deeply.

sunset

evening of flitting joy was it
or was it only i that hope
as, down the riverbank we walk

you seemed, lost in your thoughts
over your heart, a patch of
sombre clouds

is it beautiful still
that sunset in your eyes, colored
in black and silent white

The return of God

Robbie Fowler returns to Liverpool.

Couldn't believe it when i saw it on the Liverpool website. Read it three times. I really even asked myself whether it's April Fool's day.

Our prodigal son is back. A little older, a little fatter, a little slower, but still revered.

the one they call a female dog. in plural.

I feel sapped of energy. The mind doesn't seem to be functioning properly lately.

Software bitching: Mozilla Firefox is seriously slower than Internet Explorer. Tabbed browsing please, microsoft. stupid dinosaur.

Food bitching: I can't remember the last time i finished a loaf of bread that i bought in hall. This current loaf has got 9 slices left and expires in 2 days' time. However I'm going home tomorrow morning. So if i were to not waste the bread, I'll have to stuff myself with it and nutella over the next 12 hours.

Laundry bitching: Laundry is a bitch.

Narcisstic bitching: I signed up for an account at livejournal.com just so that i can post photos at their sg_snapshots community site. It's a decent photo-whoring site. Put a nice photo there and nice members will post polite comments like "wow", "ooohhhhhh", "nice shots". I like the thrill of receiving comments on my photos, and it secretly puts a smirk on my face when no one's looking.

School bitching: Buried up to my tits with schoolwork, if i have a pair of them to begin with. sometimes i wonder if i should really squeeze everything into 3 years.

CNY bitching: visiting of relatives!! the ultimate bitch. in need of salvation.

my life

This Is My Life, Rated
Life:	6.8
Mind:	7.3
Body:	8.8
Spirit:	8
Friends/Family:	3.8
Love:	2.9
Finance:	4.8
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

Totally shagged out.

shadows

Shadows hover dark and cold
Shadows grim and haunting me
Not the pebbles I once tread
Now it's stones with jagged edge

Each step i walk cast in black
taste the numbness sole to soul
shadows block the lights ahead
over my footprints, i trip

i am strong

From Ikai and Steinhaus, "Some Factors Modifying the Expression of Human Strength," Journal of Applied Physiology, 1961, we learn the following: "The maximal pull of forearm flexors was increased and, in some instances, decreased in predictable fashion by a loud noise, by the subject's own outcry, by certain pharmacologic agents (alcohol, adrenaline, and amphetamine), and by hypnosis. Significant average changes ranging from +26.5% to 31% were observed." The authors suggest that the normal human inability to exert oneself to one's physiological maximum is the result of "acquired inhibitions that in turn are subject to disinhibition by pure Pavlovian procedures, by anesthetization of inhibitory mechanisms, or by pharmacologically induced symptoms serving as stimuli for disinhibition." In other words, you're always capable of great feats; it just takes a crisis for you to actually perform them.

Dancing past streetlights

Yesterday,

Run in the chill of the night
Feeling cold air brush my breast
Dancing past streetlights
I watch my shadows in flight

first foray since the dec 4th marathon,
It felt terribly good.

I like to run at night, amidst the cold and silence. Talk to your own breathing, feeling nothing but yourself.

Sunday, I cut my own hair again. Haven't done that for a while. I think it's good.

Third entry for tonight.. I'm so full of myself.

Quotes on Life

If we really want to live,
we'd better start at once to try;

If we don't, it doesn't matter,
but we'd better start to die.

- W.H. Auden


You see things, and ask: Why?
But I dream things that never were,
and ask: Why not?

- Bernard Shaw

This chap bernard.. he sounds like me. Copycat.

Blood for money

Any seasoned, self-respecting TCS artists should by now have another couple notches in their CV, that of charity fund raiser and circus extraordinaire. You aren't there yet till u've perform some circus tricks all in the name of charity, at least 3 times a year.

Seriously, aren't we sick of it yet? The first charity fund raiser was a novelty, the second, improved and the third perhaps still acceptable. And then we suddenly seem to have one such show every month, a frequency which to me, borders on the ridiculous.

I honestly dun see why I should donate money just because some artists are doing monkey business on egg shells and florescent tubes or playing tennis atop moving vehicles. so dumb.

And in view of the NKF saga, thank you durai for the golden tap, I'm glad I didn't call in to donate money. How much did President Nathan donated each time I wonder. He's a permanent fixture on such shows these days. And the amount of time and money the TV pple put in for each charity show, it probably explains the consistent, non-stop, crap-like quality of local drama series and various tv productions, sans PCK.

I once signed up for a vacation job where the nature of it wasn't revealed till the actual day itself. I later realised that it involves the selling of donation tickets in public area, where each naive seller would be under the control of a 'manager' who sits around while the charges go about hawker canters trying to sell the tickets. The manager do nothing yet gets a huge cut out of each seller's sale, ala MLM fashion. Out of every dollar donated, only 20cents goes to the charity. 20cents, that's what the company claims. Who knows? I walked off the job.

I don't donate money, not via phone, nor to the bored school children holding donation cans every week plaguing the bus interchanges. You never know what happens to the money.

Instead, I suggest to all, why not donate blood? You save lives with your blood.. try topping that. Instead of feeding your money to hidden leeches, you know that they can't really misuse your donation for personal gains. And what if, you're the one who needs a blood transfusion one day and your doc tells you, "Sorry, out of stock."

I striked blood donation off my list of Things To Do Before I Die about half a year ago, during a blood-raising drive in school.

1. It didn't take long. much less than an hour.
2. There were big needles.
3. But they didn't hurt at all, with some local anesthetic.
4. It really didn't hurt, except for a little prick on the finger during the blood test.
4. I didn't see anyone feeling weak or faint after that.
5. You get a free blood test.
7. Only 450ml of blood is drawn
8. That 450ml will be replaced by your body in 72 hours. So you effectively donated without losing anything.
9. Think about it.. you get new blood.
10. Women form only 30% of blood donors. Now you know who the big hearted ones are.
11. I walked out feeling proud of myself.
12. Going for my 2nd donation this month.
13. New entry on my list of Things To Do Before I Die. Donate blood every year.

d o n a t e   b l o o d

Terrors - Jo - Ar - Yays - 88pts

weak day.

fainted in toilet last nite.

what an experience.

played inter-hall scrabble the whole day with headache n fever.

scrabbled twice. I rock.

Paracetamol

I'm still alive. Yay.

My stubborn chest pain persist on one week after it started, though it has since been diagnosed as some muscle problem. I'm still yearning for that one satisfactory sneeze. Now each clearing of the nasal passage is suffixed with an agonizing cry coupled with that look of pain on the face, sound and effect hardly endearing me to whoever could be around.

Currently feeling sickish. The head last night engaged in a lazy spin once the endorphins from Liverpool's 1-0 victory over the Baggies had died down. Feverish now. What next?

Oh and the right eye's tearing too, a few drops more than usual. Most irritating.

Not the most auspicious start to the new year one would have liked.