September 19, 2009

mymusetherapy.wordpress.com

Temporary!

May 29, 2009

www.sereneinubc.wordpress.com

Of Liverpool

May 6, 2009

I like how Rafa is so emotionless even when a critical goal is shot

I like how he is always so serious taking down notes while everyone else is jumping and cheering

I like how benayoun, riera and kuyt are so pia for liverpool

I like how torres scores in the first magical goal and then totally changes the pace of the game

I like how strong the midfielders of liverpool are: mascherano! alonso! benayoun! riera!

But their weaker defense is always very frustrating (but carragher is good!)

As well as their inconsistency and draws.

But I like how liverpool is serious about their techniques

I like alonso’s far shots

I like their younger players as well: ngog, agger

I like that they have many spaniards! rafa, torres, riera, alonso

And so, that’s why I’m a liverpool supporter🙂

Mad World

April 8, 2009

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I’m dying
Are the best I’ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It’s a very, very mad world mad world

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what’s my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I’m dying
Are the best I’ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It’s a very, very mad world … world
Enlarge your world
Mad world

the term is reaching another end.
so far, i’ve done four terms in sm/u, and am reaching the end of my second year. how fast can time fly? it seems only a wink ago that i’ve stepped into sm/u.
hv i enjoyed the four terms? immensely. but hv i suffered ? considerably i think. emotionally drained, physically tired. i’ve encountered glimpses of giving up , but i was brought back again and again. especially during the holidays where the things i do seem much more meaningful than what i do during sch term.
exams are coming, inching closer as i type every letter into this page. but i’m not affected that much.
am i numb to it already? the sm/u mugging and competitive culture? maybe so. i’m already going on to my third year. if i’m not used to it yet, who is ?
but interestingly yet, though i’m used to the bulk of presentations, my tummy still get the butterflies whenever i stand up there to present to the class. but as i’ve said, im getting used to it.🙂

but at times i think to myself, what am i doing all this for? what am i doing all these “getting-used-to” for? the bottomline: simply to get a job. to earn money. to become more attached to this materialistic world. delving deeper and deeper within this superficiality and trapped within the materialism and plastic things.

getting used to it. thinking of breaking away. doing things that i truly want to learn instead. isnt this what life for ?

so i seek pleasure in the simpler things like
blasting the music and listening to The Script.
indulging in mafia wars.
playing on my organ. but this can go on for hours and then i get painfully sucked back into reality. that time is running out. for the dreaded exams. 2 more weeks to temporary freedom.

i miss hanging out with my old pals . wendy, lydia, eliz, weilin, jess your missed. siti, sarah, whoever is reading this. you are, too missed.

where are you my muse

February 25, 2009

Muse, muse
where have you disappeared to
where have you hidden to
such a precious, precious thing to lose.

The heart is such a complicated thing
always pretending to be king
when it is actually the jester
mocking, constantly, bringing me down
into the disappointed state of a clown
who dropped the ball in his juggling act.

The star-less, moon-less dark night
Swallowing me in, Sucking me into
a black empty hole

But the light in your eyes
is enough to make everything alright again.

I’m Yours

February 21, 2009

You touch these tired eyes of mine
And map my face out line by line
And somehow growing old feels fine
I listen close for I’m not smart
You wrap your thoughts in works of art
And they’re hanging on the walls of my heart

I may not have the softest touch
I may not say the words as such
And though I may not look like much
I’m yours
And though my edges may be rough
And never feel I’m quite enough
It may not seem like very much
But I’m yours

You healed these scars over time
Embraced my soul
You loved my mind
You’re the only angel in my life
The day news came my best friend died
My knees went weak and you saw me cry
Say I’m still the soldier in your eyes

I may not have the softest touch
I may not say the words as such
And though I may not look like much
I’m yours
And though my edges may be rough
And never feel I’m quite enough
It may not seem like very much
But I’m yours

I may not have the softest touch
I may not say the words as such
I know I don’t fit in that much
But I’m yours

Boy with a Coin

January 28, 2009

A boy with a coin he found in the weeds
With bullets and pages of trade magazines
Close to a car that flipped on the turn
When God left the ground to circle the world

A girl with a bird she found in the snow
Then flew up her gown and that’s how she knows
If God made her eyes for crying at birth
Then left the ground to circle the earth

A boy with a coin he crammed in his jeans
Then making a wish he tossed in the sea
Walked to a town that all of us burn
When God left the ground to circle the world

Dream

January 16, 2009

One of my dreams is to cycle to school…

which I can’t do in S’pore.😛

I was a quick wet boy
Diving too deep for coins
All of your straight blind eyes
Wide on my plastic toys
And when the cops closed the fair
I cut my long baby hair
Stole me a dog-eared map
And called for you everywhere

Have I found you?
Flightless bird, jealous, weeping
Or lost you?
American mouth
Big bill looming

Now I’m a fat house cat
Cursing my sore blunt tongue
Watching the warm poison rats
Curl through the wide/white fence cracks
Kissing on magazine photos
Those fishing lures thrown in the cold and clean
Blood of Christ mountain stream

Have I found you?
Flightless bird, brown hair bleeding
Or lost you?
American mouth
Big bill, stuck going down

Iron and Wine – Flightless Bird, American Mouth

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