Monday, October 12, 2009

I Want Love-Elton John

link to video

I want love, but it's impossible
A man like me, so irresponsible
A man like me is dead in places
Other men feel liberated

I can't love, shot full of holes
Don't feel nothing, I just feel cold
Don't feel nothing, just old scars
Toughening up around my heart

But I want love, just a different kind
I want love, won't break me down
Won't brick me up, won't fence me in
I want a love, that don't mean a thing
That's the love I want, I want love

I want love on my own terms
After everything I've ever learned
Me, I carry too much baggage
Oh man I've seen so much traffic

So bring it on, I've been bruised
Don't give me love that's clean and smooth
I'm ready for the rougher stuff
No sweet romance, I've had enough

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Of the Fallen Beauty Queen(and the dogs of society)

I saw the news today. Ris Low have finally fallen. YAY!! WE FINALLY DID IT!!!!!!

Fuck off.

Of late I find myself deeply sympathetic to her plight. Admittedly I was apathetic at first, occasionally making some casual attacks on her linguistic formation(or lack thereoff) over the lunch table purely for the sake of filling the sporadic silences. But really now, if I had my way she'll go on to South Africa and eventually be crowned Miss Universe, just to see the look on people's faces.

But why? Shes speaks horribly, not pretty, crimminal and of course a fucking disgrace to our fair nation. She deserves to get tortured and gang-raped anally and left on the roadside for the wolves to feed on. No?

Well. Do some soul searching before you shoot your fucking mouths off. How many of us in Singapore can safely say that we can speak perfectly good English that can trigger auditory orgasms leh? How many of you girls can safely say that you are secure enough to represent the nation for an international pageant in a two piece bikini? Oh yeah so she stole credit cards, shes a morally questionable crimminal whore. Oh saintly Singapore, how many of you can safely say that you have not broke a single law in your life? Have you not downloaded a song from the internet without owning the original track? OMG we are all fucking thieves. Do you watch porn? Oh fuck we are dirty old men. Have you not have sex in a public place? OOOPS.

So why is she crucified and abused repeatedly and made the joke of the year by our ever so civic minded and gracious society?

The answer is simple. Because I am a nobody. We are nobodies holding dreary 8 to 5 jobs needing some cheap entertainment because we cant afford F1 tickets. We are nobodies who have never felt the inside of a wet vagina needing some slut to bring down in order to release my pent up misogynistic frustrations of not getting laid. We are nobodies who can never be good enough to win a beauty pageant needing to ridicule this bitch because shes living my dream. And of course, we need someone to feed the much feared, awed and godly local netizens to subdue their insatiatble appetite for flaming.

Its so easy to put someone down. So easy to collectively join forces to stone someone to death to feel adequate in our hollow lives. I will think that national crucification will be nothing short of a life changing trauma for a 19 year old girl. It doesnt matter to us even if this thing will change her life for the worst. It doesnt matter to us if she had slogged her ass off in the face of competiton to win a pageant. It doesnt matter to us if she had made sacrifices in her life to pursue her dream of becoming a beauty queen. It all does not matter as long as I myself achieve some transient sense of adequacy in our sad little unimportant lives by bringing someone down to our level and kicking her to death. No second chances, no empathy, as long as Im not on the one receiving the kicks. I DONT CARE BECAUSE I JUST NEED TO PUT HER IN HER FUCKING PLACE JUST LIKE HOW THE SOCIETY PUT ME IN MINE EVERYDAY.

This whole thing will blow over in time, we will get tired of her. Now that she has stepped down we will have no meaning in our lives again. And so we will look for fresh meat to feast upon and new hearts to pierce our self righteous stake through. Netizens will look for new gossips to have an opinion about and new characters to flame to feel wholesome again. Just like how it has always been and will continue to be.

Am I in a society comprised of humans or dogs? Sometimes im inclined to think the latter.

A society filled with fucking dogs that spend their days barking at the moon, knowing that they can never reach it. And you have my deepest sympathy Ris Low, for falling into a pit of hungry dogs and having your bones gnawed. May you rest in peace.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Lately my sleep have been besieged by utterly bizzare and lengthy dreams.

The worst thing is I can hardly recall anything the next day, or sometimes just small parts of it (usually the weirdest parts). So i cannot really pinpoint the culprit who is responsible for these surreal escapades.

When I joust myself awake I feel exhausted. Yes. I feel exhausted after ten hours of sleep. So I go back to sleep and let the dreams continue.

Red Daisy

The city sleeps and leaves
behind a man trailing hopelessly behind the path of dreams.

The heart ruptured and love ebbs
slowly, along with all the tenderness in its bleeding veins.

The soldier felled at last and gasps
for his last breath as his blue sky fades into red.

Forgotten is the warmth of clutching his favorite ragdoll by his heart.
Arid is the landscape of a barren field whose white daisies withered.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Lovely tranquil week thus far.

Eating Camel peanuts. Lying in bed on my stomach for hours on end. Gawking at hardcore porn on my dusty laptop.

Without a care in the world (or i chose to believe so).

Ah the joys of being utterly lazy! Its like heroin, so easy to get totally hooked on. Just let the rest of this world move on while i sleep shirtless on my bed! Forget about me, I am an alien!

Afterall, its a nice little reprieve before being thrust headfirst into the deep end of the river again.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


恼春风,
我心因何恼春风?
说不出借酒相送。
夜雨冻,
雨点透射到照片中
回头似是梦, 无法弹动
迷住凝望你, 裉色照片中。

照片中,
那可以投照片中
盼找到时间裂逢。
夜放纵,
告知我难寻你芳踪
回头也是梦, 仍似被动
逃避凝望你, 仍深印脑中。

像花虽未红,
如冰虽不冻,
却像有无数说话, 可惜我听不懂。
是杯酒渐浓?
或我心真空?
何以感震动?

Saturday, September 19, 2009

I love writing poetry, ever since I was a hormanal raging seventeen year old filled to the brim with unadulterated teenage angst in its most purest state.

Because you can write it whenever you want, wherever you are. You dont write for an audience, but you write it to soothe your state of mind like Tiger Balm to aching muscles. The best thing is that you dont have to make any fucking sense.

It is indeed the ultimate form of emotional diarrhoea.

Even though it has never failed to make me cringe when I read them the next morning.