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drive me home

my head must be up in my ass crack
what was i thinking, I could have lost the damn thing
my heart is still in my mouth
shaken....slap me hard so i'll wake up and never do it again
kill myself at the thought of what could've happen

drive me home tonight
i don't wish to be in the driver's seat

lead me away

a year wiser

you told me so a gazillion times
so i'll rein in my capacity to give
like how you hypothesize your anti-thesis
cast this in online print
lest i forget

And it'll be just as quiet
As it was when I first got here
I don't expect anything to change when I leave

trou-ba-dour

Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love
Your face is all wet and your day was rough
So do what you must do to find yourself
Wear another shoe, paint my shelf
Those times that I was broke, and you stood strong
I think I found a place where I will

Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love
Your face is all wet cause our days were rough
So do what you must do to fill that hole
Wear another shoe to comfort the soul
Those times that I was broke, and you stood strong
I think I found a place where I feel I will

Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love
My face is all wet cause my day was rough
So do what you must do to find yourself
Wear another shoe, paint my shelf
Those times that I was broke, and you stood strong
I hope I find a place where I feel I belong

Sleep, don't weep, my sweet love

Staying Incognito

you fail on me again
now I fear releasing the trigger
everything framed is lost
dissolved imprints in my feeble mind
realise I’m never meant to own it
eludes me - concealed even in negative
i’m out of breath for this
an undocumented disappointment

i relent and can never contend
be myself and hope it’s enough
all that I have to offer
that I’m etched in your cold steel heart
whatever I’ve been and done will never fulfil
i relent and can never contend
with number one

Always,
The Nth place

rem paralysis

i had a dream of a photo collage.
interestingly my collage was on teh tarik...wth. There were photos on the art of teh tarik making
with the quintessential sarbat stall man in tow.
funnily there were also shots of the teh tarik glass suspended in mid air, spinning in mid air, the glass doing a somersault matrix-esque still pose....frothy and dirty...

haha...my dreaming must have been inspired by pl's animation project and talk about teh tarik "tulen" w y and her friend and that i gotta start cracking on my photo essay.
seriously....wth....

on another note i realise ideas are precious, its so hard to think of ideas that mean something, that evoke any emotive response at all...sometimes, most times i draw a blank even when forcing them out. a new way of thinking for me n start believing more in d self.
at least i know i have the most non-sensical and imaginative dreams....if i can remember penning them down and decide where i should even pen them in -(i.m.a.notebook.whore.who.loves.separating.different.creative.works) - dun ask why.

d'man with insane falsetto is back

"in your twenties your just a sketch of what your trying to be"

kasih...rahsia...

wish i paid attention in MT class
how to write ditties in native tongue w/o sounding lame
shit.

as long as the barrage of words

Determined to get some decent shots, I decided to head down to the Marina Barrage *yes…yawn inducing* This was only cos I realized my camera may have a max range in taking fast action shots (so the skatepark was out). So we work within our means right. Besides the looming economic crisis, I’m news illiterate and had no freaking idea it was the opening…yes that’s how oblivious I am….

Volunteers asked us to gather at one side for them to bring us to the shuttle bus area ---wic was bout 200-300m away (if u believe my great estimation and numerical sense). I whipped out my camera and bumbled on in line with the other eager beavers to check out this spectacle of a water facility. We were left by the side of a road surrounded by construction sites, dust, dust and more dust. The volunteers vanished man….

Waited in line while the freaking line grew longer and longer by the minute with no bus in sight. Families with children, uncles and aunties (90% of the place was filled with our senior citizens man….the govt shouldn’t worry the senior’s are very active…im like wth…everywhere I turn I tell you~).

Btw, I get talked to a lot by random strangers - mostly they ask me directions, wic I gladly oblige. So this was a new experience. I figure its my congenial face, either that or I have “Please direct your verbal diarrhea to me” stamped all over my face, when I can’t be bothered to engage in small talk even. So it goes (in short):

Auntie: *upon seeing me snap away* Are you from the press?
Me: No I’m not. Just shooting for fun.
Auntie: U take picture many many good. Can put in the newspapers. We wait for 30mins oredi, all the buses full. Terrible I tell you. You see the line grow longer. Take picture then can complain in the papers about the organizers. The organizers terrible I tell you.
Me: Oh isit.

Suddenly, Auntie #2 standing on my right turned around, obviously couldn’t help hearing the outburst of Auntie#1 goes:

Auntie#2: Ya lor…so long leh we wait…you see queue so long…
Auntie#1: take picture, take picture!
Another man and two uncles in front of me start to talk to me to complain as well!!

Auntie #1: *still relentless in wanting to satiate her constipated complaints* Are you working? (….wth….now where is this going) Are you a teacher?
Me: Yes, I’m working. No I’m not a teacher.
Auntie#1: Wah lau….the govt say S’pore clean and green…Where got…see all the dust and toxic fumes from all these trucks…Someone should complain ah….den fine all these trucks…
Me: ……ah……

Auntie#2: *mumbling on and on abt sumthing i couldnt be bothered to hear or rather Auntie#1 more loudspeaker*
Auntie#1: So you teacher? *OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ground Hog Day can!!!* U freelance photographer ah?

Me: ......No......so u ley u working? You freelance complainer ah...?

Auntie#1: ya ya i walk walk around then complain.....freelance walker....What you study in school?
Me: I did sociology….
Auntie#1: Oh goood! So you can write to the papers and complain about the organizers. Take picture, take picture!

At this point I was getting agitated *understatement* and claustrophobic, being sandwiched between Aunties and Uncles who understandably were pissed, hot and irritable. I decided to ditch the line, took a public bus and escape the litany of senior citizen “spit-fire” gibberish. Started shooting away at people (I love zoom lens!)…a group of Malay uncles saw me snapping and shouted:

Pakciks: Oii….where you from? Berita Minggu? Berita Harian? Yay….take picture take picture!
Me: *I just smiled and ignored them for a while but realize photo op is a photo op. They want picture, I take* Oh no….from….*wat other freaking Mly papers are there*…..from Sensasi (a cable channel, wic I dun even subscribe to)
Pakciks: Wah……Sensasi…..take picture!

So they actually posed for me….haha….they were dead bored I guess guarding the humongous hills of red goodie-bags under the sweltering heat.

The place was a buzzing hive of activity (throngs of senior citizens and families) and littered with photo enthusiasts. Nice shots of water, and kids portraits (they are very cute I tell you). Should go back there with a tripod (sadly I dun have one yet) cos the city skyline at night is a beauty.

Transport back to the mrt really sucked. Queues for free shuttle buses were loooong, not enough public buses were plying and some gave up and walked more than 2km to the mrt. Was soo pissed that the cab I called didn’t know how to get to d ulu place, the bus finally came after an hour and had to force two-bus loads of people waiting at the bus-stop (super pissed - I didn’t pay the fare).

So good luck to the Corp Comms depts. of NEA, SMRT and LTA (wat freaking rule isit dat taxis can only stop b4 or after bustop...u check ah siao!)….The auntie mafia will skin u alive…

Signing off,

Unofficially appointed mouthpiece of Auntie Mafia

Missing everything, Everything's missing

Recollect. Sharpened memories
Unassuming windowpanes of wrecked desire
Replayed as epitaphs of framed beginnings

Lightly resting on begonias, the summer’s lusts paints
A caricature of this pale afternoon’s amnesia
Us as canvas to the day’s undoing

Beguiling tongues linger upon unexplored crevices
Unlocking secrets
With the tip of touch

Bronze the colour of skin
Yours, illume against mine
Let’s catch the light between us
Incandescent flickering of lucky stars – chosen to be found

Repose my trust within your words
Divulge the intimate
I bear sole witness

//pinhole roid

run away, run away like a prodigal

don't you wait for me, don't you wait for me

so ashamed that i need you so

and you wait for me, and you wait for me

strike three

it amazes me how time and again people use me for their own purposes
for the temporary taking and leave it by the wayside thereafter
best part is how i let them, blinded by earnestness and naivety
only to realise when it starts to sting
perpetual, withdrawn i've become
am i that useable
gullible fool

the long walk

It
was
just
circumstantial

Ah Lians and Uncle Mike

I.AM.SUPER.PISSED that my Agfa Ct Precisa prints were not cross processed!!!!
Went to try out a new place, Fotohub at Liang Seah instead of Triple D at Burlington Sq. The place looked spiffy and professional but was served by this Ah Lian who didn’t seem to know her photography shit. Its like hello, I gave her the slide film to be cross processed but it turned out NORMAL. I might as well have used normal non-slide film and had to pay quite a fair bit just to develop and scan.

Should have known better. Was asking Ah Lian what kind of colours and tones would the other films they sold turn out like and she was like …..crik….crik…crik….
*Hello Earth to Ah Lian, u work here dun u know!?!?!* Blur liao…
Am not going back there even though its more accessible than Triple D.

Contrast this to the ever-friendly, patient Uncle Mike who helms the Triple D photo shop. Now he knows his shit off the top of his fingers. I can safely trust him with my beloved prints. Just pass it to him, no questions and he knows to cross-process the bloody slide film. Heck even his school going son knows it, like duh.

Uncle Mike is so cool that he even bothers to load ur film for you, advise on getting the right exposures and the types of film. Yes, he may have a poodle of a Phua Chu Kang hairdo (wic works for him cutely), thinks that the lomo fad’s a phase and that lomographers are crazy loopies but he gets it right for an affordable price.

So unsatisfying…urgh. The Clarke Quay photos would turn out so much cooler with cross processing man =(

aaaaarhrhrhrhaghaghaghagrhhhhhMMAAKKKAAAUUUhghagrhhhhhhhhhhhhhh


…..pek cek…..

Bring on the delectable food and money....

Embracing Syawal

The month’s left us and with it the passing of reflection and solitude. Its been a prolonged, drawn out fight and the past month has been kind. Peace had been elusive, slipping out of grasp at every turn. The void was filled with sources of anesthesia, hastily picking at straws banking on choosing the shortest way out.

Consistency of the daily grind, the wedge of time and distance leads us to forget, forget others and their tales at navigating through the unfathomable workings of life. As we herald in Syawal, its time to bridge lost ties, reconnect, reinvigorate malaise spirits, forgive and be forgiven for times that we faltered and thank dear ones whom we have borrowed shoulders and showered us with love, hoping that we can repay them with ours.

So forgive the selfish, the non-existence, the non-commitance, the forgetting, piercing words, the unspoken thoughts, the envy, the expectations, the falling short of expectations, the breaking of promises.

If the essence of being is love,
Being present is being love,
For love is how and why life is.

DIY Babe-Mobile

the air has been filled lately with the births and babies. a friend's upcoming delivery's due anytime soon and what better way to commemorate the occasion than a baby shower of sorts. Just the phrase "baby" warrants an oh-so-wholesome *goo goo.....gaa gaa....*outburst doesn't it.

Ever the task oriented ppl, the duties were delegated with clockwork efficiency. Being the unemployed bummer that i am, i decided to volunteer my "creative help" around considering ppl do have day jobs to be at. wandering our way around the streets of bugis in search of inspiration n materials for "deco", scratching our heads as to wth the latter constitutes, Nad and I had a "are u thinking what i'm thinking moment" after visiting one of the party stores there.

Armed with our newfound creative mojo, idealistic illusions that we were actually creative, courage to start thinking out of the box (quite a feat for one civil servant plus a former gahmen) and a budget of $30, we started scouring ABC-Value for money stores for tools and materials. So here is an atempt to create our version of a Baby Mobile (yes, Nad its not a Baby Chandelier, tho that sounds cute too).

Equipment/Materials need:

1. Your mum's clothes hanging pins thingy for drying clothes
2. Balloons of ur desired colors, embossed motifs
3. Nimble hands
4. Dad's fishing string or any nylon strings available at ur friendly neighbourhood store
5. Cutesy animal clips
6. Nimble Hands
7. Someone who's has the stomach to blow them balloons or can be substituted with anyone who naturally has loads of gas/flatulance
8. Backup: 1 kg flour
9. *cough* semangat *cough*

The start....blow ur balloons. Somehow, they turned out in a certain shape, wic we agred resembles the female anatomy. Apt huh for the baby, as he looks up from his cot.


Next is the tricky part....tying!!! thank god for Nad's nimble hands. The first one:

Disclaimer:

Balloons have a way of not retaining the air you invest into them. So when all gets deflated, raid your cabinets, for mum's trusty packet of flour.

Viola:

Maciam like jemput-jemput can! Love the cute animal-esque clips.

...u may not want to put us incharge of deco....lol.

Sheep in Fog

The hills step off into whiteness
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them

The train leaves a line of breath
O slow
Horse the colour of rust,

Hooves, dolorous bells
All morning the
Morning has been blackening,

A flower left out
My bones hold a stillness, the far
Fields melt my heart

They threaten
To let me through to a heaven
Starless and fatherless, a dark water.


-plath-

Babies

Overheard:

L: So and so has given birth...
F: Wow...guess now having a baby is the in thing...Marriage is sooo last century
L: If marriage is soo last century, what is singlehood then......obsolete!?!? Great!

Eid Mubarak

Modern Age Infidelity

A decade ago we fossilized this union on top that little hill
Do you still remember them playing our song?
The husky baritone of Ms James declaring at last our arrival to the world
You would smile in a way I never saw before
Your bright eyes secretly gleaming that escaped their attention
Your less than successful attempt to hide the blushing
My hand on your waist, guiding our dance in embrace
Our tender kiss that levitated our souls to higher grounds
Consumed every cell in my body with conviction of this commitment

I remember how your face failed to veil the anxiety
You would readjust the onyx cuff links I gave you every 5 minutes
The ones I gave you on our special night before
Soon enough love, I’ll be there
I loved how you smelled that day
A mixture of assuredness, warmth and security
Your witty, charming self coupled with deep-set dimples I adored
I remember how you held me, how you kissed my neck
How there was no one else you needed but me

She would twirl the ends of her auburn hair sieving through mails with the careful touch of her stylus, the ubiquitous conduit to virtual connectivity
Every second or so nodding in agreement to his grunts, cocking her head to the left to ponder in the distance
Immaculate in her off-shoulder little black dress and blood red stilettos, does he notice that I’m wearing less each day?

He was literally buried to the handheld device, twitching of thumbs to catch the prize
A shadow of his prime, decked in an overused Man U jersey and FBT shorts
Unsightly strays of unkempt hairs overlooked in light of that PSP
Does she know I’m ashamed that I can’t give her what she needs?

They would sit shoulder to shoulder, the stillness to each other peppered with sporadic arm jibes and reluctant intimacy
Drowned by the cacophony of station announcements, world-weary commuters and the ending of a drawn out day


Its quarter past 10 and we’re not home yet.

Malaysia Boleh

Humour is a great Anesthesia

The realization sinks in gnawing unceremoniously from the core of the emptied
All this while hope-filled fibs and fantasy laden hallucinations veiled my worrisome mind from reality
Riding in your shadows, desperately hanging on to your coat-tails
They are long by the way, a never-ending stretch that I couldn’t get to the head of it, fiercely protesting my grip

Melodies have left leaving an untouched guitar hollow from the dearth of crafting
Instant uplifting riffs of “Here Comes the Sun” fail to inspire replication with the departure of the two
I know who is, was and will be, all at once a debilitating fear of vulnerability weaves its encumbered self into the symptomatic churning attacks
Stalemate of a prolonged fight resigned, that the stasis may never be achieved
It doesn’t matter for the flight is long and the destination may change, there’ll still be uncontrolled turbulence along the way
I’ll take it when it comes or never does…

That’s the way this wheel keeps turning now
You can’t love too much one part of
You can’t love too much one part of

Will

All winter, we got carried
Way over on the rooftops let's get married
All summer we just hurried
so come over, just be patient, and don't worry

No I don't wanna battle from beginning to end
I don't wanna cycle or recycle revenge
I don't wanna follow death and all of his friends

moments that got away

i missed it, what filled the time when it got cut off
the others that were in the waiting
who warmed the seat of your absent longing
you didn't get through
the line vacuous of a single digitised yearning

Nightcap

we speak in whispers cautious of the hearing
thin as paper that cuts through the silence
amidst the droning monotone of F.I.R, your digital substitute for the lonesome night

separated by 3 inches of insulation you still haunt me
one more sharpnel for the journey
inundated the flicker of your screen consumes you
overturned bellies filled with fear and loathing

He's waiting religiously a loyal companion
to end your day, watch you unfold
fix the wreckage fought in earlier hours
your rock of gilbraltar for the taking

repressed he walks, alive around empty seats and ruffled papers
hearing imaginary phone calls
a thriving effervescent in sadistic proportions
i imagine you suffocating beneath the weight of your imposed stoicism
just leave the other line unconnected its past the hour mark for importance

she flits with a lightness in each step
sashaying emblems of gleeful frivolity
the branding of a broken hearted idealist
fasten your plastic smiles an underlying contempt you fail to grasp

im erased with every key
inconspicuous eccentricities overlooked in light of day
magnified in a moment of clarity

Gender Bender

d cutest lil boy....so mentel. natural model.

Amazing Punggol Race

It’s been ages since I finally got a day off from everything and what a swell way to spend it on a photo outing with P. So much for trying to take photos that ain’t looking like Sg, it seriously felt like we were not in Sg. To all drivers out there, you can throw ur street directory out the window when you happen to be in the vicinity of Punngol-land.

Me: I wanna go to the beach area
P: Lets go to the marina country club area.
Me: Ok, u help with the navigation

After bout 20 minutes going around the bushland, we stumbled upon Punggol Seventeenth Avenue…The uber rich must really love their isolated space to go out of the way to live near swampland. Yikes..

Me: This is the Marina Country Club!? Looks like Malaysia...How the hell do they make money sia, no one in sight. *spots all the Chinese signs in sight*…eh this place is like cheena land. I only see ah peks and China looking ladies.

After a not so eventful photo-taking, we are just about to be oriented into the wonders of Punggol.

P: Omg dejavu…didn’t we just pass this same looking stretch of street with another LRT station…Twilight zone..
Me: Ya sia, didn’t we just pass this Ch temple. *after a few rounds*think we just passed a Hindu temple.
P: Maybe its all templated, every street in Punggol got same street, LRT station, place of worship.
Me: *figuring out wth to turn, been u-turning for the upteenth time*Oi….which road should I turn to….!?
P: *out of the corner of my eyes the street directory is on the floor, busily she’s fiddling with yellow subby*…..sooo cute….i’m so happy…whee..
Me: I’m entering sengkang, should I just go back to Punggol road again..?
P: …*still fiddling*…ya ok….*still grinning at yellow subby*
Me: I’m hungry…!! *spots jalan kayu exit thinks; jalan kayu got nice prata…..shud I? better not or another road trip adventure may ensue*
P: …wheee….so cute…

After turning bends and rounds of templated looking buildings, wide open spaces and the never-ending same stretch of road--(Punggol Way/Road/Central) all the freaking same— I finally concur that the urban planners designed Punggol in karma-esque concentric circles…maybe its all part of the fengshui cos of the war history of that place…or maybe its to pacify all u new couples who are getting flats there that really u aren’t shortchanged, that nobody gets a better area than others…all equal best ah..! somehow I think I’ll be lost there more often with more friends moving to that area to set up their lovenest..

Neways…glad u love the gift…here’s to more emotional blackmail moments from me…muahaha…yes if we do join amazing race, I’ll prob be stoned to death for being the anti-tudungster and u’ll be my human entertainment machine –batteries excluded, just feed her—cum gprs system =) Btw u are still a good navigator ah..

a third to the quarter mark

To run again
To feel lighter with higher purpose
To be important and special once more
To restore belief
To do the moonwalk on the subway
To make you laugh
To emanate assurance
To be the charm
To dream and love again

Lesson 101

Layered hallmark flights of fancy
Cascade Lust's designs
Flickering of quiet ignitions
A steady hum retained by our worn-in silences and co-joined sentences
If they listen carefully the angels floating past
a paralysed heart to the ground

Nestled on a mount held only for it
this compelling surrender laced with bouts of hysterical euphoria
an assured saunter, a piercing nonchalance
to the collection of sharpened memories for later missing and reminiscence

Ashen marked decoys reveal
obligatory offerings to lighten the unspeaking ahead
against the grain i trudge, pulling the weight of unrelinquished dreamscapes
ferocity with foolish intent, valiant in naive attempt

A conditioned calmness
void is anticipation
non-descript the rustle of my restlessness
face to palm
tear to tear
mouth to tongue
paralysed my heart to the ground