Epitaph of Misery.

Ball and chain, ball and chain,
With our ankles in pain. . .
We art shackled to the ground,
with these roots wound round. . .
Left under the shelter of the canopy,
Where the light never shines free. . .

Oh, willow tree,
Woe be me. . .
How long more,
Will I reside in thy hall?
This peregrination is such a bore,
What else would I desire for?

...

Monday, October 26, 2009 12:25 AM

Shots

How quaint. . .

...

Wednesday, October 21, 2009 11:39 PM

Lyme Disease. . .

Like fishes in a busy sea. . . We swam. . . The whale directed us to our ocean, and we set off. . . On our journey. . . We battled the currents. . . We fought the tide. . . We left the maelstrom and found places to hide. . . But we had to face Father Chaos's wrath. . . And we swam. . . And swam. . . Days turned to weeks. . . Weeks turned to months. . . And the whale, had never kept its word. . .

We were nowhere. . . Not to the promise of crystal clear waters and rich green algae fields. . . But to the murky depths covered in coral long deceased. . .

And we were tired. . . I looked back at the crowd. . . And their scales were grey. . . Their fins were frayed and their eyes were glazed. . . A few more weeks towards the horizon, and our journey had come to a close. . . I looked towards my companions, and I saw not my school of fish. . . But fossils and empty shells. . . And I too noticed, that I lay still. . . At the bottom of the sea. . .
I looked at the blank, staring eyes of my companions. . . And it dawned on me. . .

We had joined the coral that covered the expanse beneath us. . .

...

2:44 AM

Experience. . .

The other day, I went for an interview. . . She invited me to take a seat and after I did, she smiled at me benignly. . .

"How would you like to trade your soul?"

It wasn't that much to think about. . .

"What do you have to offer?"

Her smile grew wider,

"Nothing."

And I nodded my head in consent, allowing her to lead me into the next room. . . It wasn't much bigger than a store room, yet it gave me a feel of never ending expanse . . . With corners of the walls similar to horizons. . . But then again, it wasn't much bigger than a store room. . . The walls were covered in a strange wallpaper. . . Hues of red, vibrant colours. . . And yet everything seemed so dull, and claustrophobic. . .

"How fortuitous", I thought to myself. . .

I sat on a chair in the middle of the room and I spoke to the walls. . . The walls had little to say, yet I gave my utmost care and concern. . . I shared my opinions and spoke words of advice. . . And I spent my time within these walls, sacrificing all else. . .

A fortnight passed and the same interviewer stepped into the room. . .

"Alright, your work has been done. We have found a replacement for thy post. We thank you for your soul. . . "

I smiled back and left the room. . . Exhausted from my work. . . I went home and looked at myself in the mirror. . .

I had lost my colour. . . My skin took a pallid shade of grey. . . My clothes were black and white. . . My lips were dull and flat. . . And my eyes, were as hollow as wells. . .

I had left myself in that room. . . With its red walls, and endless horizons. . .

...

Sunday, October 18, 2009 1:33 AM

A little more literal. . .

Frankly speaking, I haven't felt like I've enjoyed my holidays enough. . . Just a couple o weeks of actual worry-free enjoyment. . . Most of my time has been spent at home. . . Partially because I get a bit worried when I go out in the day. . . And the night life had me down for a while. . . It's saturday night. . . I don't feel like sleeping. . . But I really have nothing left to do. . .

...

Saturday, October 17, 2009 2:16 AM

Hypnotic. . .

Like apparitions, they wander around us. . . In some sentiments, these wraiths seek to accompany us. . . Make us laugh, and smile :D . . . Bring us 'warmth' to our lives. . . Give us something to pass the time, give us a little more company. . . Put a bit more sparkle into our eyes. . .

And then we notice, we're simply being leeched. . . Drained of our strength. . . We give our warmth, and our 'love', feeding these ethereal beings in attempts to make them whole. . . Tangible, some would call it. . . And in no time, we find that we have given ourselves away. . . And we in turn,

Have turned to ghosts. . . Only to scour these forsaken plains. . . Searching for our souls. . .

But he once said, "Not all who wander are lost."

...

Thursday, October 15, 2009 12:49 AM

Something about us. . .

It might not be, the right time. . .

I might not be, the right one. . .

But there's something about us I want to say. . .

Cause there's something between us anyway. . .

I might not be, the right one. . .

It might not be, the right time. . .

But there's something about us, I've got to do. . .

Some kind of secret I will share with you. . .

I need you more than anything in my life

I want you more than anything in my life

I'll miss you more than anyone in my life

I love you more than anyone in my life

...

Wednesday, October 14, 2009 9:03 PM

Lollipop

Every so often, a scene crosses my mind. . . A sudden rewinding of the tapes. . . And it tears me. . . And it rips me. . . Over and over again. . .

...

12:47 AM

Rocky Road. . .

I've been having these strange dreams lately. . . Like is any of this for real, or not? I dreamt that my toothpaste tube was replaced with a new one. I dreamt that I got into a car accident with a Firebird (not a car you'd find in Singapore, and probably not in the US anymore) that was driving in the wrong direction. . . I dreamt about so many daily affairs, like drinking water, taking medicine, playing guitar, going out, that now I feel like I can't differentiate between the dreams and reality residing in my memories. . .

...

Thursday, October 1, 2009 1:22 AM

Returning. . .

Let's hear it for New York! New York! New York!

Well. . . It has been quite a while since I paid attention to this matter. . . And I still think it weighs down on my shoulders like a long haired girl riding atop of me. . .

I don't ever wish to go back there. . .

...

Tuesday, September 29, 2009 12:15 AM

Questions and foresight. . .

My teacher, Mr Collin, once said to me, "So you've put all of that behind you now right?" And I said, "Yea I guess so, but when I turn around and look back, it's still there." And he laughed. . . I have put all of that behind me. . . There is no doubt about that. . . I look back into the past 2-3 months and I am quite confident that there are key milestones that I can safely chart on a graph. . . But till now, going to places, seeing things, reflecting on the present. . . They all still bring back images that play in my head endlessly. . . These reels of tape collected in my head make me feel old. . . I feel like an aged 90 year old, with my skin wrinkled. . . With my face covered in blemishes. . . With my cheeks drooping. . . And with my eyes, gazing blankly. . . Tired. . . And exhausted. . .

Someone I know once said, "Alot of you young people like to think about the end product. But you don't think about how you're going to get there." We dream, we fantasise, we imagine ourselves in pants larger than our own. . . But how often do we think about the bitter struggle that would bring us there. . . Thoughts of fame and fortune are so easy to dream about. . . But dreaming about the painful process of getting there, just doesn't seem to occur so easily. . . And with that, dreams fail to turn into reality. . . And they forever remain etched in the mind as dreams . . . Or left to be forgotten, and like the sands of time, are blown into forgotten spaces. . .

All too often, we live off borrowed wisdom. . .

And I think it sucks being a carbon copy. . .

...

Sunday, September 27, 2009 1:06 PM

Taking into consideration. . .

It's the wrong, time, for somebody new. . . It's a small, crime, and I've got no excuse. . . Is that alright with you? Give my gun away when it's loaded. . . Is that alright with you? If you don't shoot it how am I supposed to hold it?

Like a porcupine. . . Covered in spines. . . You're free to criticize and to provoke. . . But when provoked, you stick your spines out and poke your provoker in the eye. . .

...

12:53 AM

Urhh. . .

Well. . . I live in a WELL, where tears start to WELL. . . And where I DWELL, riding the SWELL. . .

Two radio sets sat in a crowded room full of radio sets. . . Some transmitted, some received. . . Some did both, while others deceived. . . I transmitted my eyes on my radio set, and I heard the echoes from a few other radio sets. . . A butterfly transmitted her wings through her set, and I caught them through mine. . . Incidentally, she caught my eyes, and I caught her wings. . . We tuned our radios to Channel 0231 and spoke to each other on that closed line. . . We spoke for a while, sharing nothing but our corneas. . . And before long, others had tuned in to Channel 0231. . . Several strange faces began transmitting across the channels. . . And my butterfly, was obscured by shadows. . . I stood by and watched, for several minutes, waiting for my butterfly to speak to me again. . . But nay, she took wing, and left me behind. . .

Bye bye, butterfly. . .

A strange twisting of fate, leading me to this strange acquaintance. . . A startlingly familiar name, akin to that of someone I used to know. . . And a face, eloquent with familiarity. . . That face, I can't seem to comprehend. . . I see so many people in one person. . . I see D, J, HS, HM, C and some I can't even name. . . It frightens me to think that we are related in such a strange way. . . And yet. . . I know that we are not made for each other. . . Life is a trade-off. . . What I stand to gain is offset by what I stand to lose. . . And yet I feel my inquisitive mind seeking a profound attraction to this person. . . A bizarre collection of faces. . . It startles me. . .

...

Wednesday, September 23, 2009 1:11 AM

Finding these veins. . .

I haven't felt like this in a while. . . It feels like one of those occasions where you stand in contemplation. . . Standing on an island, just a small patch of land about the size of your bedroom. . . And stare out into azure blue waters. . . An expanse so wide, that your island feels. . . Like a palm tree in a desert. . . This tree stands, as a symbol of life. . . As a standard for all creatures in search of survival to rally around. . . This tree stands out on the horizon, sitting on a dune. . .

And under this palm tree I sit, contemplating. . . Contemplating that scene at the bazaar. . . With crowds of people flowing through alleys. . . And with a kaleidoscope of colours filling my eyes. . . The smooth cloths of the city's inhabitants draped over their bodies. . . And I was but one in a constellation of colours. . . In such a blur of motion and endless renewal, how does one remain planted firmly to the ground? How does one remain, standing in a moving crowd. . .

How does one resist being swept away?

And I stood in that flurry of movement, and contemplated. . . I watched the lone fisherwoman. . . She was much like a Siren, standing in the middle of the lake, picking her fish as they came towards her in droves. . .

And I swam in that frenzied rush, and contemplated. . . How does one illuminate oneself in the darkness? How does one forge an iron will? How does one deal a crushing blow?

And how does one contemplate such things?

...

Tuesday, September 22, 2009 7:39 PM

Conditions

WE'VE FALLEN SHORT, WE'VE FALLEN SHORT

WE WON'T SURVIVE

I am quite speechless and was quite unaware of what the capabilities of a weak heart are

...

Tuesday, September 15, 2009 12:55 AM

Rain clouds. . .

Well, this next one's gonna be in metaphors. . . In 3 paragraphs. . .

With the lights flashing and smoke misting our eyes, bodies moving to the thumping beats, I watched this tide of men and women pulsating and shivering in the ambience of loud music and R&B. . . Well this one ain't a metaphor. . But screw that, I can't find a better way to word it. . .

We walked in a forgotten land, feeling a great sense of euphoria and ecstacy despite being pretty lost. . . None of us knew the grand plan. . . We had a map, and a latern. . . But the drawings on the map were pretty sketchy, much like a map drawn with a crayon. . . And our lantern did little to dispel the darkness or penetrate the mist. . . And we laughed, and talked and casually strolled through the shadows, fearing nothing but the lack of better times. . . And on we walked, with these shackles wrapped round our wrists and ankles. . . These chains trailing behind us, its sinister clinking muted by our shouts of laughter. . . And these rags we call clothes, hanging off our skeletal frames. . . And these bones covered by remnants of flesh and skin. . . And these skulls, with empty sockets that stare blankly. . . And these paper white jaws and teeth, chatter on endlessly, laughing and cackling. . .

They all seemed in a mad disarray, engaging in a spree of hostile conflict and disagreements. . . Throwing aside everything they had built, and just beating at each other with sticks and stones. . . What used to be a peaceful agreement and co-operation turns into a silent stalemate, with each side decimating the other, or simply leaving the battleground, never returning to conclude the fight. . . And while we are all in this state of turmoil, I ask that you, reader, consider what you're doing if you ever engage in future joint ventures. . . Or if you are currently participating in one now, do make attempts to sort business out in a professional way. . . Dissolving your partner might not be the best solution. . . Unfortunately, when profits and loss come into play, everything else goes out of the way. . .

...

Monday, August 24, 2009 3:08 PM

Avenger. . .

The enemy may shatter our bodies, but they cannot break our spirit. . .

Even now they advance on our home world, to seize by force what they cannot claim by right. . . They cannot imagine what awaits them. . .

WE WILL SMITE THE INVADERS FROM OUR SKIES. . .

Though they sweep over our lands like the sands of winter; Never again will we bow before them; Never again endure their oppression; Never again endure their tyranny. . . We will strike without warning and without mercy; fighting as one hand, one heart, one soul. . . We will shatter their dreams and haunt their nightmares. . . .Drenching our ancestors' graves with their blood. . .

We will unleash such terrible vengeance, that generations yet unborn will cry out in anguish. . . And as our last breath tears at their lungs, they will know. ..

That this much, belongs to us. . .

...

Wednesday, August 19, 2009 12:49 AM

This is him speaking to me through, you. . .

Such subliminal messages, rising from the shadows to haunt me. . . To torment me. . . I wish I could bury these recollections in a chest at the bottom of the ocean. . . So I'll just talk abit about what happened these few weeks. . .

Number 1:
He was waiting at the bus stop and was meeting his friend. . . She was with her friends and she seemed to ignore him completely. . . Not wanting to sit with him on the bus and even talk to him or acknowledge him . . . Poor bloke. . .

Number 2:
He was with his friends, preparing for a jamming session at some place. . . The jamming room was upstairs while several kids sat downstairs. . . If I recall correctly, there were two groups of people. . . And his friend was sitting there with the other group, smoking and chatting. . . And as usual, ignoring him. . . So for a few minutes the two groups sat apart from each other and did their own things. . . Until it was time to jam. . . He gathered his items and took one last glance at his friend. . . The other group was leaving. . . And his friend left her file behind. . . It was a red folder file. . . The sort with several transparent pockets inside. . . He picked it up and looked inside. . . And they contained some papers of the both of them. . . Their outings, the happier moments like the trip to the zoo etc etc. . . He walked up to her, with his arm outstretched and said,

"Hey you left your file."

And she said,

"Oh, you can keep it."

And he said,

"You don't want your file?"

And she said in an irritated tone,

"I don't want it."

And she turned her back on him. . .

...

Saturday, August 15, 2009 2:10 AM

A tale to tell. . .

Endless repetition has put a clamp on my thoughts. . . I see nothing but blank space in my head. . . I guess I have walked through the worst of things. . . Probably one of the worst phases of my life. . . Actually I think it has been the worst phase of my life. . . Being beaten on the outside, and being eaten on the inside. . . Not only was it mentally exhausting and emotionally diminishing, it was physically consuming. . .

I guess all of it has been put to waste. . . The ashes have been cast to sea and the dreams of a flat white beach with a palm tree, has been consumed by the tide. . .

And I, stand aboard this galleon, considering my next direction. . .

...

Thursday, August 6, 2009 12:38 AM

The changing of times. . .

It's strange how people can turn on you over a period of time. . .

...