[ BARECHELOR PAD ]


::Quickys::
Name:
luwin wong
Age:
twenteen
Location:
on an island city state
Email:
luwinwong@hotmail.com

RevisitatioN:
month six o five
month five o five
month two o five
month one o five
month twelve o four
month eleventh o four
month tenth o four
month ninth o four
month eighth o four
month eleventh o three

period-full-stop
luwin


Well on this green page i'll say,
a thing of what i think today,
which since i please, i think i may,
type quick or slow or pink or gray.
And although pink might sound right gay,
i will right now your fears allay,
i'm quite alright, for bent i'm nay.
i kinda think, it's quite okay,
i cannot sing, like mike buble,
nor even act poor capulet,
upon the bright, shiny parquet
of good ol' grand broadway.
I haven't been to cold norway,
or timbuktu, or mandalay.
Coz singapore, the place i stay,
has got only one railway,
that leads direct to sia-malay,
where its quite fun to play.
If i ever own a chevrolet,
it just might be a cabriolet,
but that'll have to wait till next payday,
which just might come, if i do pray.
Now i had enough of this wordplay,
i'll end right now, this quarterway.
i hoped u liked this "-ay" buffet,
I bid you all, a nice good day.



Grow old along with me..

Saturday, August 27, 2005
More Than Just Words

i was about to pen a post when the lyrics to this song stopped me dead in my tracks.

i guess it's time i run, far far away
find comfort in pain, all pleasure's the same
it just keeps me from trouble
hides my true shape, like Dorian Grey
i've heard what they said but i'm not here for trouble
it's more than just words
it's just tears and rain

- "tears and rain" by mr. james blunt

Songs tend to have a effect on me. i have to admit.
And more than ever these days - during my sojourn in the sunny-rain-soaked island of tekong.
i can't really tell why.
Maybe it's because life as a bmtc recruit is largely a period of emotional and spiritual depravity.
And songs are inspired, played and sung with precisely both of the abovemenetioned ingredients.
And i feel them more. like i'm more receptive to the emotional state of mind that the song conveys.
I think it's sorta like how a dry sponge soaks up water with far greater ease and intensity than a bloated one.
i'm bone dry as far as emotional well being is concerned.
i'm not depressed though.
7 weeks and 5 confinements after, i've still got that dopey grin on my face more often than is sanely permissive.
i'm not a depressive.
Just you know, empty; spent; expended; maxed-thehell-out.

I've learnt it's very easy to cry.
but we seldom do.
Not as much as we ought to anyway.
But it's not because we're 'strong' or have attained grand-bloody-mastery of our emotions.
It's really only because most of the time, we're trying so damn hard not to cry about something else, that we don't cry over the things before us.

For there is no objective crying.
we don't coarse through an isolated train of thought in tears.
It doesn't work that way.
Crying opens a myriad of emotions and a breaks loose a floodgate of memories labelled "leave well alone" that you hope resides in the deepest dearkest recesses of your memory, but really just fringes hauntingly upon the borders of one's sanity.
and deep down inside, we all suspect this.
So we don't cry.

and i guess it's time i ran far far away...
Two cents dropped on or about.. 5:03 PM


+ + +

..the best is yet to be.