Take my hand, we're off to NeverNever Land.

27.10.06

The grapevine whispered something into my ear tonight. I hear you've defected to the dark side. Of course it ain't mere hearsay. Don't get me wrong, nobody's here to tell you what you can, or cannot do. I was never the Jedi sort, nor even a lowly Padawan to begin with. So i will not preach. You knew how hard it has always been to toe the line, and I thought you did a great job not allowing the balance to tip. Now it is time we realise that our chapter has come to a close. I wish you well in your future endeavours. Have a good life.

fresh from recluse 14:05 [+]

Big Brother put 3 men in plain clothes, sitting all night, and possibly all day, at Newton today, for an all important task. To catch those who fag in the no smoking by law food centre, and give them a hard fine so that they learn their lesson. Sounds logical, you say. Good job, you add. I cannot disagree, but I beg to differ on a few counts. I shudder to think that my parents, and your parents as well, and in a few years to come, me and you, are paying so much taxes every year. Just so people could, sit around? Wait a minute. On top of sitting around, they go around catching taxpayers (who are the source of their salaries), and fine them? And what'd they do? Light up a fag in a no smoking by law food centre? Wouldn't a verbal warning do just fine? I say that would do just fine. We are not stupid, we can read the signs and realise what can or cannot be done at the food centre.

Last time I read the newspapers, which was a couple a days ago by the way, in case you're the sort that thinks I don't look the reading sort, I realised there are many things out there to be worried about. So, instead of sitting around, and making me pay more than I necessarily should, how about putting these "sitters" elsewhere, where they can contribute to say, national security or rising crime rates or whatever. Something that makes this place safer for myself and my family. How does that sound, Big Brother?

I say that sounds mighty fine.

fresh from recluse 12:08 [+]

Bob Dylan

Festival of lights at the ninja's crib. Congregated at Butter with the crew after, but of course we missed out some familiar faces. In any case, when the full crew comes home come Christmas, things will be back to normal, needless to say.



what can i say. spoonfed spells dope all over it.

fresh from recluse 14:01 [+]

In case you were wondering.

the strokes - on the other side
franz ferdinand - walk away
rhcp - porcelain
rhcp - dosed
arctic monkeys - mardy bum
the strokes - the end has no end
rhcp - soul to squeeze
the strokes - the end has no end
the strokes - reptilia
cake - open book

So today. I was pretty damn crazy at the newly designated smoking point. Yeah no one designated it. I did. But that's good enough ain't that right. I was singing the Cranberries' Linger real damn loud, at the top of my voice. With the guys as my audience. Its a great track I swear by it. Shireen nails it pretty good at Wala's. She remembers me as the dude with the mesh cap. Before we jacked Leslie to go up on stage to sing again as usual. Back to Linger. It feels good to do whatever you feel like it. You're being judged all the time. All eyes are on you all the damned time but, only some matter. To a friend of mine that stumbled upon this space, no one is too cool to be your friend. I'm your friend.

I do not like the PSI level always stuck on the top left hand corner of them TV screens. I maintain that the haze mars us from the real truth. Big Brother encroaches day by day.

When the fog sets in, we open our eyes a little wider, and look a little harder. You don't wanna be caught unawares.

fresh from recluse 05:40 [+]

the revolution must go on.

fresh from recluse 10:34 [+]

Last night I had a conversation with Cecilia's friend and she asked me a simple question of which I was appalled at my own answer. Not the answer per se, rather the lack of an answer. Today I surprised even myself during one of the lectures. I think the intelligence is starting to creep back into my head, amidst the fog of the Philip Morris induced haze. Shan't humour myself too much though. The haze and the PSI has been hogging the news of late. I haven't been very much affected by it. I think this is Big Brother's way of hogging the news headlines in a bid to hide something more important that's happening, either here or outside our little island. It's been awhile since the Thai coup, though I still cannot see how flowers could go with tanks. Any form of retaliation would have seen blood on the tanks, not pretty little garlands that turned photo-worthy overnight. But I could be wrong. I talk too much sometimes.

These days I've been getting sick of people who are attached acting like they're not. Maybe it's just plain friendliness. Who the hell are we kidding here. I'm sick of people talking to me like they've known me my whole life. I'm sick of clean sheets and white walls, not at all 6 star hotel-esque, but that of hospitals. What I'm really sick of, people acting all pseudo G-Unit, cock glocking their imaginary double berettas. This ain't no gangsta paradise, 'HOE. Let me see how wicked you can crip, oh do you know what that is? Show me some bling, where your crew at? Where them thugs at?

Today I had the weirdest of conversations with a certain individual going by the moniker XiaoPan. I was surprised at myself that I didn't flip, now that I think back on what we talked about. How I wanted to tell him he looked like a million bucks. I should have told him that I've never had anything not nice to say about him before today. What can I say. I've mellowed down. Something to rejoice about.

Hell yeah.

fresh from recluse 08:04 [+]