So eager are we, to isolate a singular emotion, meant to be discarded in time. This is murder, in the name of convenience when something I thought precious is starting to inconvenient. So eager were we, that we fail to see, along with it, everything else slips away, quicker than the mind can control, faster than the heart can bear. There it goes, down the drain, out the window; a miscalculation of the conceited intellect. Now isn’t that a shame? Dear heart, you are fading. Is there something I can do? Now truly, like all the other promises made before by the others, this too, must dwindle to a state of emptiness.
Loving a piscean, cuts right into your heart, simply cause we make it that way.
– Piscean Ron
A year has passed since my last entry about the people who fascinate me, love me, frustrate me, inspire me, bore me and most importantly, know me. Yes, while this is an entry dedicated to them, it’s mostly about me. *grins*
Anyways, so many so many Pisceans. And I love them all, very dearly.
Na Ge Ron, the older brother I never had, my music soulmate. The one who inspired the “you’re-on-your-own, but you’re not alone” song. Our vicious banters, is our best way to show how much we love each other.
A-de-le Wong, #1 Pretty Face, the younger brother I never had. From Kent Ridge to Clementi to Toca Me, we’ve alcohol-ed, smoked and discussed intently on existentialism. I’d give anything to be at Kent Ridge again.
Miss Skinnybean, my love, my friend, my “favourite DVD”. You know you have such a special place in my heart. While you’re a 13 hour flight away, I can’t wait for you to be back to steal my heart once again, the way you always do. London is the luckiest city in the world ‘cos they have you and I don’t.
And all the other pisceans… Koochi, Aiyi, Lynda, Marion, Cheryl, Ie Connie, Sarah, Lydia…
I’m wondering… is there ever a time when there isn’t a flu bug going around? ‘Cos every time I fall ill, I’ll have people telling me, “oh yeah, there’s a flu bug going around lately”. Is it the same flu bug every time?
*shrugs* I’m struggling to sleep the fever away only to wake from repetitive dreams that make it so much more tiring than not sleeping. Water and pills are not helping. Smoking sure as hell, isn’t either.
“It’s very – not precise, this pill-popping business, you know?”
Alice, The L Word
It’s not uncommon that I have a soft spot for beautiful girls, and the pretty girl with deep set dimples, the one with a mole on her right cheek has a very special place in my heart.
I’m quite sure I’m not the only one who wants to write her a song. She’s one of those girls whom you just want to protect, talk to tenderly and do anything just to see her smile. It’s so much convenient to fall in love with a beautiful girl who’s already dead than to fall in love with one and be utterly broken hearted when she dies.
Three years was all it took for her to captivate an entire generation with her pretty face and her devastatingly beautiful but sad eyes. Oh, those heartbreaking eyes.
Manifique la plus, c’est Edie S…
I’m bad with names. I can remember places, faces but never names.
I don’t understand why people take it so personally. :(
It’s not that I don’t ‘care’. But seriously, chances are, if we were introduced in a club, pub, alcohol intoxicated environment, names go out of the window in the split of a second.
I have a ridiculously short attention span. I might remember the “Hi!” and forget the “I’m blah-blah-blah, nice to meet you” bit. BUT (and this is a BIG BUT!) I’m pretty good with signs. Tell me your sign, I remember signs so much better than names.
I looked out of my window the first time this year – time 5.16am. The tree outside my window got a New Year trim. I’m not sure how comfortable I am with its bare trunks staring shamelessly back at me without the luscious leaves I’ve become used to.
48 hours of sleeplessness and counting. I think I need to sleep. Ranting about scantily clad tree seems a bit creepy, even for me.