let's,from some loud unworld's most rightful wrong.

to think you'd ask who to serenade,

chang xiang
chrissypoo
crystal
crystal's lj
donn
guo hua
hanz
hilmi
hubab
jay
joanna
justin jap
kaiyin
lisa
lydia
malvin chua
maryam
mikey
my first dictionary
PLU Cafe
rahman kinky
rayner
rcc
roy tay
sandra
sean yeo
smelly
tammy- being missus b
tammy- missus b speaks
xinhao

adieu love,

This was created by Increasingly.

i awoke this morning and i couldn't stop the tears.

because i realised i spent the whole night dreaming about you.

12 November 2009
6:23:00 AM __________________________________________

As,

thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

Sonnet XCVI

William Shakespeare

11 November 2009
10:40:00 PM __________________________________________

my, tabula rasa.

your mouth at my ears.

your lips spilling words i'd heard,

from too many before.

every time i see a picture of you,

i see your flesh before my eyes.

(your arm hooked over my chest,

your thigh wrapped over mine)

i feel the recoil of my breath on your neck,

your back.

there we were again, lying

motionless.

your mouth at my ears,

your lips spilling words i'd heard,

from too many others.

needless to say,

i looked up at the ceiling with tear masked eyes.

closing my eyelids,

ejaculated memories out of my heart and down my cheeks.

my body

may have risen a mere twenty-one years ago,

from the cataclysm of what man would name in his naivety,

birth.

but my soul

my soul is aged

like the pining of a single moment in time,

(like a nail sketched marker on a branch,

who's name has been forgot, for too many a winter)

where man could be

still.

these eyes of mine,

they're not the first windows my soul has peeped through.

i'm tired.

i'm tired of your mouth at my ears.

your lips spilling words i'd heard,

from too many.

tonight,

(soaping delirium,

all over an adventure crafted by the stars)

my ears have lips uncharted

searching for a second (showered in chance),

to whisper those

infamous words.

to think,

(in expectation's deceptive confidence)

i thought you'd be different.

__________________________________________

then again,

what good is an unbreakable heart?

__________________________________________

you know,

i don't dare look at pictures of you,

because i don't dare to look into your eyes.

10 November 2009
9:39:00 PM __________________________________________

pity,

only in a wood scented wine, can my solitude finds rest.

__________________________________________

through a lingering fog,

down the lamp lit road, leading to a little place we only know as

down yonder.

__________________________________________

so who can i blame,

when i realise how you make my eyelids bat in slow motion.

__________________________________________

i'd like to call it a reflection.

milk my face with a rag and a bone

"it's a process of discovery"

someone once told me

i say two stabs in the dark for you

two stabs in the dark like some college romance

like two lovers sheltered by

the fragile cover of a trees shadow

as they devour their candle lit

car bouncing passion

simply because they need to

like an organ itching, hyperventilating orgasm

not because of some lofty hand-written directive

you know

i used to think that letters could make me smile

especially those enveloped in brown paper

you know, those with the stench

of some cycling, protesting, middle-class, blue collared worker

it's peculiar how morbidly blind we are

and how we share the same passion for it, say,

on the same level, cross dressers have for putting up fronts

i think it's even more peculiar knowing time will not change that

we like to tell ourselves it does

truth is, time's standing right by your crimson destined doorway

puffing a cigar

with an alice-in-wonderland-grin painted all over his face

appropriate, i must say

so i stepped my foot in the earth

it's a rehearsal for what will be

i want to make sure everything turns out right

the lights, the music, the veils, the colour of my wooden box

after all that's what we're put here for

to wet up our fetish for closure

our eternal longing for a ride in the black curtained horse carrriage

with none other

than his truly piloting a one way, no return journey

ah, you see the picture had been painted long before

your role is simple

just make sure that every second, of every day

that you muddle through your self proclaimed drearisome life

looking exactly

like how you were painted

no two ways about it

noted

09 November 2009
12:54:00 PM __________________________________________

picture post!

so it's been a while since my last picture post.

highlights the past 2 weeks would be partying through halloween, a very sweet surprise lunch cooked by jojo, drinks with natalie foster, watching my mum's kids perform at her kindergarten and of course, the much anticipated wedding of jackie and mark. i've had a blast.

more importantly, this week marks 3 more months till the end of my national service :)