Were had. Linguistics standard had dropped tremendously. Not that I had any flair to begin with (that gift was bestowed on my dear friend TTRAN), but a two-year hiatus and not studying during that period didn’t help. Would like to write again some day though I shall be mindful, as one’s opinion might be another’s leverage.
Albeit under a different name but Kristen, I can’t believe you are back.
I don’t know if it’s just me but I’m pretty sure this is the first time ever I heard one of Inch Chua’s songs playing on the radio, albeit it being 93.3fm (a mandarin radio station). I was pleasantly surprised that her songs are finally on air on local radio, especially since “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” is one of my personal favourites.
Thank you Inch, for bringing good music to us.
Nonchalant. Stoic. These are words that describe my very first impression of you, despite your beautiful coat and intimidating posture.
We don’t exactly know each other well, especially given the fact that I was only one of two handlers of you for two weeks. But you are my first ever dog. Another life that I take responsibility for. We were partners, and I learned my basics from you, for which I am grateful for. The many firsts I experienced, holding, bathing, grooming and most importantly caring for a dog, came from you, and you will be duly missed.
Rest well, Rex, wherever you are.
Being a relentless teen waiting to be conscripted into the army, I have to make myself useful and earn some cash through a mundane job consisting of meddling with TV box-sets and thinking of things I would do with my cat if I am not at work. I would play with it and teach it how to open the door when I call out “Meow” . I could hang pieces of fish on the gate and it can jump for the food while I will just tug it upwards. If I repeat this several times all week, my cat would be able to open the door when I reach home because reaching for the keys is a tedious effort which will waste whatever energy that is left of me after a day’s work, and could instead be put to better use for showering my cat with love. Yes, this is indeed a great idea; I should pen it down somewhere.
Life has been pretty dreary, where I revolve around work and home, with the highlight of the day being the journey to and fro. It’s quite a sight to see pretty but not exactly pleased girls, due to the fact that the bus is always crowded and partly because my eyes are glued onto them the moment they are within sight. I could go up to them and say hey, but who am I kidding. That is never going to work. Once, armed with both lust and a bicycle, I attempt to get off it on one end with substantial speed to impress an attractive female jogger, but what resulted is a muffled laughter and a gash on my calf. Death was imminent, but befell on a withered bush that cushioned my fall. In a way I granted the bush a quicker albeit not exactly peaceful way to die instead of having to go through caterpillars savaging through whatever is left of it and with me eager to live, so I guess it works out well for both of us.
Posted a year late.
Mama told Johnny not to go downtown
Falcon warriors all around
Johnny went downtown anyway
To see what the warriors have to say
Your left, your left, your left right left
Your left, your left, your left right left
First day of school they took his hair
Full of sorrow he couldn’t share
Ran and swam till he drop his tongue
Wondering if this is what he wants
Your left, your left, your left right left
Your left, your left, your left right left
One day and ten days as time goes by
The stronger he gets he couldn’t hide
On the graduation day then he said
Falcon warriors all the way
Having lost my wacky humour over the past few months due to conscription and in turn is leaning more towards emotional and personal writings, which I greatly detest and my principal reason for disliking blogs.
And I am back to change that.
Because then I still have a fighting chance; and in 8 hours, all that might turn to dust.
It may have come four months too late, or because this song evokes memories of you, but we should have a last waltz. Figuratively, because I am terrible at dancing.
Stultification 