Close every door to me
Hide all the world from me
Bar all the windows
And shut out the light
Do what you want with me
Hate me and laugh at me
Darken my daytime
And torture my night
If my life were important I Would ask will I live or die
But I know the answers
Far from this world
Listen
His eyes upon your face
His hand upon your hand
His lips caress your skin
It's more tHaN I CaN STAND!
Listen
Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Untitled
Have I waded in too far
Dug my own grave, ensnared myself
Tied the loose around my neck
And choked the life out of myself
I look in the mirror
And see a confused beast
Its emotions raging
Its character but many facets
On one, it's written 'humour'
On another, it's written 'perverse pleasure'.
Each phase of life
Each new environment
Each friend
has a preset of facets.
Oh, the storms that come
The howling wind
The thunder as the waves crash
Against each other
Onto each other
With each other
And with dry land.
The storms that arise
within man's heart
The fury within.
The complex confusion
The passions that cry out
In fear, in preservation
The tears that pour forth
As joy turns into grief.
Like a deer caught in a truck's headlights
Like the un-caged bird, confused by its freedom
The feelings when two friends of different settings
merge and become one.
The shells.
Hard. Cold. Thick.
They don't break but they fall off.
They don't cease to exist
They just remain stagnant
For a little while
Till they are worn again.
Till the heart is crushed.
Till the mind is gone.
Then the shells resurface.
Once more.
Dug my own grave, ensnared myself
Tied the loose around my neck
And choked the life out of myself
I look in the mirror
And see a confused beast
Its emotions raging
Its character but many facets
On one, it's written 'humour'
On another, it's written 'perverse pleasure'.
Each phase of life
Each new environment
Each friend
has a preset of facets.
Oh, the storms that come
The howling wind
The thunder as the waves crash
Against each other
Onto each other
With each other
And with dry land.
The storms that arise
within man's heart
The fury within.
The complex confusion
The passions that cry out
In fear, in preservation
The tears that pour forth
As joy turns into grief.
Like a deer caught in a truck's headlights
Like the un-caged bird, confused by its freedom
The feelings when two friends of different settings
merge and become one.
The shells.
Hard. Cold. Thick.
They don't break but they fall off.
They don't cease to exist
They just remain stagnant
For a little while
Till they are worn again.
Till the heart is crushed.
Till the mind is gone.
Then the shells resurface.
Once more.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Love
Love.
That makes a man woo his wife everyday, from scratch
Because she suffers from Alzheimer's Disease
And forgets who he is the next morning.
That makes a boy a man
Cause he marries at seventeen
To his first and last love
Who died a day or two
After the wedding
Leukaemia
True. It's nonfiction books.
But they arouse the desire
The yearning in us
That existed since we were born
And would stay till we're dead
To love and be loved.
What's Your Love?
That makes a man woo his wife everyday, from scratch
Because she suffers from Alzheimer's Disease
And forgets who he is the next morning.
That makes a boy a man
Cause he marries at seventeen
To his first and last love
Who died a day or two
After the wedding
Leukaemia
True. It's nonfiction books.
But they arouse the desire
The yearning in us
That existed since we were born
And would stay till we're dead
To love and be loved.
What's Your Love?
Friday, April 27, 2007
the battle
you see it everyday
it happens all the time
at city hall
or raffles place
Train A is packed to the door.
Its doors have yet to close.
Train B zooms in, unleashing its cache of Train-A-hungry passengers.
They run across.
They stop when they see the full capacity.
They stare at those in Train A
They stare back.
Their eyes go 'You take one step into this squashed-like-sardines-in-a-can train carriage and I will personally sardinize you'
Those from Train B stare back
Their eyes go 'Should I or should i not. There is an empty gap, right there. Oh but it's near e door. What if e door closes on me.'
Then the doors close.
Our eyes meet.
They're furious they didn't jump in
I'm thankful I didn't get permanently slimmer.
And reruns are available every evening.
it happens all the time
at city hall
or raffles place
Train A is packed to the door.
Its doors have yet to close.
Train B zooms in, unleashing its cache of Train-A-hungry passengers.
They run across.
They stop when they see the full capacity.
They stare at those in Train A
They stare back.
Their eyes go 'You take one step into this squashed-like-sardines-in-a-can train carriage and I will personally sardinize you'
Those from Train B stare back
Their eyes go 'Should I or should i not. There is an empty gap, right there. Oh but it's near e door. What if e door closes on me.'
Then the doors close.
Our eyes meet.
They're furious they didn't jump in
I'm thankful I didn't get permanently slimmer.
And reruns are available every evening.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
MY FIRST PRESS CONFERENCE
I attended my First Press Conference Today!
It was with Olivia Newton-John. And, she's like 59 but she looks in her early 40s! gosh. I've no idea if it's exercise or yoga or make up. After all, I did read up somewhere on the web that she loves to do her own make up and stuff.
But! That wasn't the most shocking part.
The most unbelievable part is that the first person I saw when I stepped into the press conference is my dear motherly lecturer cum tutor cum person-in-charge of me during my internship: MS ANGELA CHEE.
I confused my mind kind of blanked out when I saw her. She didn't see me at all when I stepped in, so my mind was busy trying to figure out how I should call her. Chee? Angela? Ms Chee? Ms Angela Chee? Cher?!
So in the end, my mind settled on, 'Ms Chee!'
And she looked up, [I'm probably the last person she expected to see], and I could tell she was surprised to see me, cause she asked me, 'What're you doing here?'
Of course, under normal circumstances, that questions would be classified as one of concern and curiosity. After all, I should be in like some office doing some desk bound job and stuff. However, at a press conference 'What're you doing here?' does seem to be a little off the mark don't you think?
Can't quite remember what I replied though I'm fairly certain it went along the line of 'I'm here for the press conference'. Which, has gotta be the worst impromptu answer I've ever gave.
Should have said something like 'I pon internship or i skipped work today' kinda thing, that fits well with my lame satirical humor.
Oh and guess what! There were more fans than media at the press conference! They should have called it a fan conference! And they wore pink!
Well, cause Olivia Newton-John's a breast cancer survivor, [in fact she even set up an Olivia breast cancer test kit!] so the local breast cancer survivors kinda look up to her as a role model and such and they certainly came out in full force to support her!
I felt ridiculously under-dressed, [I was in a simple black shirt and jeans], or rather I felt I wore the wrong color. Not That I should worn pink, mind you. I just might get mistaken for a breast cancer survivor. Though it can happen in men. maybe it should be moob cancer.
It was fun though. The questions that came up, from meeting the pope, to singing a duet with her daughter, to dragonboat racing. And the photographers. Gawd. It's like so bright can. And you wanna flash somemore. And your flash is not facing e front kind but facing the side. And I'M AT YOUR SIDE. i know la, I have small eyes and such, but doesn't mean I'm immune to your numerous flashes.
Can't these gossip-thirsty, bloodsucking photographers spare a thought for a poor, under-dressed, intern here?
Oh well, tomorrow would prove to be a fun day. A recording with Jean Danker. I pray she doesn't wear pink. If not, I'll just freak out. Honest.
It was with Olivia Newton-John. And, she's like 59 but she looks in her early 40s! gosh. I've no idea if it's exercise or yoga or make up. After all, I did read up somewhere on the web that she loves to do her own make up and stuff.
But! That wasn't the most shocking part.
The most unbelievable part is that the first person I saw when I stepped into the press conference is my dear motherly lecturer cum tutor cum person-in-charge of me during my internship: MS ANGELA CHEE.
I confused my mind kind of blanked out when I saw her. She didn't see me at all when I stepped in, so my mind was busy trying to figure out how I should call her. Chee? Angela? Ms Chee? Ms Angela Chee? Cher?!
So in the end, my mind settled on, 'Ms Chee!'
And she looked up, [I'm probably the last person she expected to see], and I could tell she was surprised to see me, cause she asked me, 'What're you doing here?'
Of course, under normal circumstances, that questions would be classified as one of concern and curiosity. After all, I should be in like some office doing some desk bound job and stuff. However, at a press conference 'What're you doing here?' does seem to be a little off the mark don't you think?
Can't quite remember what I replied though I'm fairly certain it went along the line of 'I'm here for the press conference'. Which, has gotta be the worst impromptu answer I've ever gave.
Should have said something like 'I pon internship or i skipped work today' kinda thing, that fits well with my lame satirical humor.
Oh and guess what! There were more fans than media at the press conference! They should have called it a fan conference! And they wore pink!
Well, cause Olivia Newton-John's a breast cancer survivor, [in fact she even set up an Olivia breast cancer test kit!] so the local breast cancer survivors kinda look up to her as a role model and such and they certainly came out in full force to support her!
I felt ridiculously under-dressed, [I was in a simple black shirt and jeans], or rather I felt I wore the wrong color. Not That I should worn pink, mind you. I just might get mistaken for a breast cancer survivor. Though it can happen in men. maybe it should be moob cancer.
It was fun though. The questions that came up, from meeting the pope, to singing a duet with her daughter, to dragonboat racing. And the photographers. Gawd. It's like so bright can. And you wanna flash somemore. And your flash is not facing e front kind but facing the side. And I'M AT YOUR SIDE. i know la, I have small eyes and such, but doesn't mean I'm immune to your numerous flashes.
Can't these gossip-thirsty, bloodsucking photographers spare a thought for a poor, under-dressed, intern here?
Oh well, tomorrow would prove to be a fun day. A recording with Jean Danker. I pray she doesn't wear pink. If not, I'll just freak out. Honest.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
strangely
Strangely, the last thing to be sick from, from interning at a Audio Production House would be flu. After all, I work in a winter wonderland; where the office temperature is 20 degrees celsius, and I'm in the office from 9.30 to 6, Mon to Fri-s, and never encounter any heat save for lunch hour.
After all, the sicknesses associated with an Audio House would probably be advice falling on dear ears and ear blocks. Not that which affects the nose or throat.
But oh well, the flu just had to choose me to infect and produce nosewater out from. Honest. It was like a tap last night, dripping non-stop. Strangely it stopped dripping when some guy with the cherry flavoured fag walked past. [gasps] Does fag smoke have a healing property related to the nose?
Well, I should be able to drip out a bottle full. Anybody interested in purchasing freshly made nosewater? It's just like newater except with a smellier o.s. [nOSewater]. Healthy and biodegradable too. The water i mean, not the bottle. No sampling allowed of course.
Oh well, back to winter wonderland tomorrow. Guess I could try out the hypothesis that listening to music speeds up one's recovery.
Bah, the paperwork needed to do when written an M.C. Why can't it all be computerised! Bah, paper. Save The Earth, use ultraviolet stamps to give M.C.s, and let every office have an ultraviolet scanner. Saves the earth. Till you realise earthly resources is needed to generate electricity for the scanner to work.
After all, the sicknesses associated with an Audio House would probably be advice falling on dear ears and ear blocks. Not that which affects the nose or throat.
But oh well, the flu just had to choose me to infect and produce nosewater out from. Honest. It was like a tap last night, dripping non-stop. Strangely it stopped dripping when some guy with the cherry flavoured fag walked past. [gasps] Does fag smoke have a healing property related to the nose?
Well, I should be able to drip out a bottle full. Anybody interested in purchasing freshly made nosewater? It's just like newater except with a smellier o.s. [nOSewater]. Healthy and biodegradable too. The water i mean, not the bottle. No sampling allowed of course.
Oh well, back to winter wonderland tomorrow. Guess I could try out the hypothesis that listening to music speeds up one's recovery.
Bah, the paperwork needed to do when written an M.C. Why can't it all be computerised! Bah, paper. Save The Earth, use ultraviolet stamps to give M.C.s, and let every office have an ultraviolet scanner. Saves the earth. Till you realise earthly resources is needed to generate electricity for the scanner to work.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Do Or Do Not.
5 things never to do when riding on an escalator:
1) Do not direct your burp at the stranger around you. Yes, we know you've eaten, and we know the food was good, but there are more civilised ways of expressing your, erm, gratitude.
2) Do not yawn and then look at the person standing beside you with your mouth wide open. Unless you have gold teeth and wish to donate a few to me.
3) Do not ask your kid if he/she needs to put put/do business/poop/do big business. For crying out loud, we just came out of a food establishment!
4) Do not stand in the middle as if you own the escalator. There are people who are in a hurry and you standing there, with the plastic bags at your side, are proving to be not just an obstacle, but the cause of a huge jam.
5) Do not fart. This needs no explanation. Unless, of course you are certain everybody else on the escalator has a blocked nose. If this should be the case, fart at your own will.
1) Do not direct your burp at the stranger around you. Yes, we know you've eaten, and we know the food was good, but there are more civilised ways of expressing your, erm, gratitude.
2) Do not yawn and then look at the person standing beside you with your mouth wide open. Unless you have gold teeth and wish to donate a few to me.
3) Do not ask your kid if he/she needs to put put/do business/poop/do big business. For crying out loud, we just came out of a food establishment!
4) Do not stand in the middle as if you own the escalator. There are people who are in a hurry and you standing there, with the plastic bags at your side, are proving to be not just an obstacle, but the cause of a huge jam.
5) Do not fart. This needs no explanation. Unless, of course you are certain everybody else on the escalator has a blocked nose. If this should be the case, fart at your own will.
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