it's raw; maybe i was too hasty


streets with no names

is there a song for the homeless
without, the flock might depart
the streets are cold with its unkindly coat
regard then with discreetness
lest to soil that which is shy of blemishes

for the moon does not side
stay close now to the walls
albeit the relief in the placidity
yearn yet the whiff of day
the fathomless night will not sway


but it's been too long

{-+-}

an affinity for war drama and a disdain for NS: a connection? - HELL NO !

finally got to view a particular film in its entirety on cable recently, and was a little surprised when
i found out that it was The Pianist. i have always thought that it was one of those happy-go-lucky
hollywood flicks but i guess i was wrong. there are many so called arty films out there which
i probably would have enjoyed but never did got down to catching them. for one, you cant really tell
which is good, it's not as though i have so much money and time on my hand anyway. and secondly,
i dont have many friends that would accompany me to these kind of films. but then again, as a
WO in my camp would put it, " that's an honest answer but is it acceptable?" i guess not.

im quite a sucker for social/war drama such as The Pianist. maybe coz im a depressive person by
nature which seemed to be the theme of my recent blog entries. but what the heck it's the trendy
thing nowadays aint it, hah. anyway just got back from camp early this morning, and one sentence
sums it up.

"i still cant farking see my ORD date."

{-+-}

random thoughts found in camp

typing an entry in camp seem somewhat strange to me at this
point of time. but i love the feeling of detachment and peace
that only this kind of environment can provide; a world so alien
under the cover of velvet. i hate to be alone in a crowd, but
adore i do the solitude when im by myself, especially in the night.
i think i know the reason why, but it's more apt for it to be left
behind in the twilight. not much other thoughts at the moment.



Signing Off

Location: a room of my own away from home
in a deceivingly cozy camp in tuas

{-+-}

i hold my knive in still
to cut the dullness in the air
for it speaks with a heavy heart


im lost... lost for words, lost in a world alien to me. mornings appear so distant and foreign
since i enlisted in the saf. on most sunday mornings, i would unwittingly sleep through them
but not today i guess. listening to music from lionel richie, duran duran, crowded house and
the sort somehow kinda made it even worse. damn, im such a sucker for sentimental stuff.

a time to bask in the dawning light
a time to bask in morning's renewing song
a time to partake in words
a time to partake in the grace of this earth
im lost...
lost for words
lost in a world alien to me.

i need a smoke

{-+-}