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

31.12.06

A young boy saw me yesterday and called me "Uncle".

The year flew by in what felt like a jiffy. It was, like all years, 365 days long.
No discrepancy on that count. The year in retrospect:

January: New Zealand live firing, how can i forget that shit. Bad times that looked good only when I looked back on them.

February: Chinese New Year, and a month of zero work all play slacking.

March: ORD-ed on the 14th, or was it the 15th. I can't remember as well. $1600 credit card bill.

April - June: Tangs salesman from mondays to wednesdays. Moulder of our future generations from fridays to sundays. Rolling in the cash.

July: Law camp. *****.

August (onwards): School.

I resolve to,
smoke a little lesser
sleep a little longer
open them eyes, and ears, a little wider
study a little harder
save up a little more
amongst others.

what a night, what a day.
good morning, good night.
what a smashing start to two double zero seven.
happy new year y'all. may every year be better than the one that just past.

fresh from recluse 16:58 [+]

"You" is a word that encompasses all versatility. It is unlike "me", which is on the direct opposite of the spectrum. "Me" is exclusive. Imagine this scenario: you are standing in an open area and there are millions of people before you. You shout, "You!" as loud as your throat can muster, and I'll bet you my last dollar whoever heard you would turn around and respond. Now let's reuse this scenario, but instead, you shout "Me!" real loud and clear. No one gives jackshit about you. The only people who turn around and look at you would be those that give you a dirty look and think you're screwed up there. You get my drift.

"You" could be anyone at all. "You" could be me. It can be specific, yet so general and doused in ambiguity at the same time. There are many "you-s", only I know who's who, who's "you".


You have been distant, a stranger on all counts. I am disappointed.

You have been sneaky all along, a ninja doing shit behind my back. I don't like it. And I promise I will smack YOU nice and tight. Aight?

You have been random, unpredictable, walking down the dark side, knowing that Karma bites when one least expects it to. I hope you know what you're doing. Only thing I know is, you don't know.


And The Strokes dropped a Hot Chip on the Boy From School, and said to him Try Your Luck. Night y'all.

fresh from recluse 13:34 [+]

slept at 6:00 am.
cardiac arrest/mini-stroke at 8:00 am.
fell asleep at 9:00 am.
first stick at 4:09 pm.
timing, is of utmost importance.
im gonna die young.

fresh from recluse 00:08 [+]

I call this the killer sequence.
Click click boom, just as we hit the room.
Joy Enriquez comes on.
What a track,
what a track.
Mr. Warts would agree.
All the songs that matter(ed).
Juicebox rings in my head,
the chorus to be exact.
You're acting weird.

Don't be a stranger aight.





Doing what we do best, terrorising the streets of our neighbours. Glitch-free, of course.

fresh from recluse 13:42 [+]

The formalities were dealt with in a jiffy once I got back. A man of formalities I am, and an efficient one at that.

The granny's fine. She asks for more appearances at dinner and I intend to reciprocate. I request for more random calls from her regardless of importance, but I know she won't do it. She has this warped impression that she might be disturbing me when she calls me.

I hope there was some reconciliation tonight. Blood remains blood ain't it, least that's the way I see it.

JB tmr. No glitches I hope. No glitches.

A second Stella would do things good.

fresh from recluse 06:04 [+]

Bade our final goodbyes to the reasonable man on the Clapton omnibus today. Got off at one of them random stops without knowing where we were, but it was a hasty farewell. I asked him where he was going to alight, he says he goes wherever the Clapton omnibus takes him. People board and alight, hastily and abruptly. Time to get the bearings right and start over.

fresh from recluse 07:14 [+]

Bob the Builder is the angmoh version of our endearing Bangla.

This rollercoaster ride ain't healthy, you hear.
48 hours, 6000 words, and a great deal of word processing.
One realises the true meaning of martyrdom.
Change happens from the top.
Five words that ring through the confines of your head.
Success that will come decades from today
Must begin planning, today.
You wonder if you'd be better off being an accountant.
Nah fuck it.
The stats and the math
ain't the way to go.
Those that matter, matter.
Those that don't, well
they've missed the shuttle.
Those who earn their trust,
will get it back.
Ten times, fo' sure.
The world is
As big as it can get, but
as small as you need it to be.
Right down to the last detail.
All the world, on one B.
Hang tight babies,
the rollercoaster's just moving up the end of the ramp.


The other day, I was having a conversation with my man Edwarts.

Me: want some goodings not.
Warts: set.
(Clicked 3 songs to send to him)
W: eh why so fucking slow ah
Me: no idea. leave it be
Me: we've got nothing. but time.
W: time
W: won't
W: give
W: me
W: time
Me: and time makes lovers feel. that they've got sth real.
Me: but baby u know u and me we got nothing but time.

Proof that we talk shit. This came from a song by the way.
Boy George and the Culture Club. Check out Mikey, he's the stud.

fresh from recluse 10:13 [+]

The Germans fought a two front war in World War I, against the French, British and American forces on the Western Front, and against the Russians on the Eastern Front before the Bolshevik Revolution took them out of the war. The Germans also fought a two front war in World War II, in a near exact repetition of the situation in 1914.

Hitler's Germany came up with the Schlieffen Plan in a bid to prevent the same thing from happening. But alas, lighting strikes twice for them. The irony of history is that history always repeats itself, and of course, the people who make history, never seem to learn. Such is the beauty of hindsight. That which you see, and possibly know, but seemingly impossible to prevent.

And as we descend upon the prospect of another possible replication of history, let us attempt to pick up the lessons that matter, and deny history yet another shot at arrogance.

fresh from recluse 09:24 [+]

We have been pursuing an aggressive foreign policy in this recent months. Operation Silent Night has been ordered to retreat after failure to capture strategic locations crucial to winning the war. The logistics department, headed by Edwarts, failed to check if the arms shipped there were in working condition, resulting in troops engaging the enemy with their barehands. The wing man, Mr. aB, was unable to penetrate into the deep recesses of the enemy territory. Intelligence has found him, alive and well, but battle-weary, at the borders.

However it is believed that this war can still be won. There is still sufficient time before the actual day of attack and we have faith in the soldiers. The overall commander for the second wave is Djemba, who has been briefed on the mission objectives. He is well-trained in snow battles, having fought in Siberia and suppressed rebels there.

Fight on. Silent Night must be accomplished at all costs. It will all end in one cold night.

On the homefront, we are currently experiencing random outskirt skirmishes. It is believed that there might be more than one perpetrator. We understand the stresses of fighting a multiple-front war, but preparations are under way to arm the conscripted troops and volunteers. On the ground we have Baseball Tan and Ray Charles ready to lead the soldiers into action should there be any invasion. Currently they are stationed in the Western tip of the island, on the highest point there. That area has been highlighted by our intelligence, consisting of Paulus the Walrus and his trusty sidekick, Chandra, as the most likely route of attack should there be enemy movement into our country.

However, we are currently facing a problem of rising desertions. Just last week we captured a Private medic by the name of Lehly Yeo Chee Fock. He is currently held in detention. We are thinking of gathering all the arrested deserters, using them as our first wave of defence. This would be called Operation Human Shield. They will suppress the first waves of fire from enemy lines.

The war is far from won. Fail to prepare, and we prepare to fail. We will gather again in the second week of the twelfth month of this year and discuss the routes of advancement.

fresh from recluse 01:42 [+]

flea 'n' easy. breather after binder. xiang's sunnies.

fresh from recluse 03:09 [+]

Hello G to the H.

In answering your question, things have been okay. When I say things are good, it means things are normal. When I say things are great, then they are good. So when I say things have been okay, I'm sure you've caught my drift as well.

Just the other night, I visited JOHN baseball tan and RAY charles at NTU-land. I forgot to bring my passport to check into their Customs, but thank god for corrupt officials. I paid them off and they allowed me entry into the beautiful island of NTU. When Ray walked me to their room I saw a girl hurriedly rushing out from it, and John was inside. I think the bugger is in love. I must say their crib is impressive. Both are doing good.

I hope u're coming back for xmas. Abui and Edwarts are currently working hard on Operation Silent Night.

In any case, things have been okay. Hows things on yr side.

fresh from recluse 00:56 [+]

the goo goo dolls said slide.
a day of rock.
listening to Guns on my ipod.
level 5 solidarity introduced to the sister.
you, me and Alfred the Redhead conquer the world.
old school cool reeks everywhere.
it lurks in them corners.
you're looking to find it but
it finds you.
Houdini and his straightjacket.
sneakin'. and a thievin'.
You wonder what's misplaced and what's not.
maple syrup muffin,
Mano a Mano, the fillet duels the hashbrown.
wrong orders made right.
a good night, a good year.
the clock starts ticking when today, becomes tomorrow.



and Axl reads my mind just mighty fine.

fresh from recluse 07:39 [+]

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 [+]

It was a night of crazy feet.
Smashing night.
I was smashed.
the first time we left with half the shit still left,
She begged to be consumed
but we left her in strange hands
There's a first for everything I'd say.
Cruelty works its magic any day

Familial love was much appreciated.
3 of us boys all grown up,
the world at our feet.
and yet the image remains fresh.
like it was yesterday.
3 nine year olds cooking instant noodles in the dead of the night
messing about with the pots and pans.
yes just like it was yesterday.
it's true what they tell you,
them roots,
they don't go away.
not that easily anyway.

A royal waste of time.
I repeat.
all these has been, plainly,
a royal waste of my fucking time.
won't drop no penny or even a dime.

I think the game just got interesting.

fresh from recluse 07:07 [+]

I hope nobody reads the shit that goes on in here. Lest this impedes me from expressing what truly goes on in my twisted head. I maintain that there's zero exhibitionism here and I want it to stay that way. Of late I've been bashing myself up over the citation of a particular case. Couldn't seem to get any clue from Carswell, my little red French-Canadian friend.

It's the case of Truths v. Untruths. I can't seem to remember how the judge's verdict went though. Let me know if you've got a clue.

fresh from recluse 07:17 [+]

We can kick it and go puff on a blunt.
Oh you don't smoke?
Grab a pint of Hen' and we can get drunk.
If you got an attitude I'm a treat you like a hoe.
Just be true, and
there's nothing i won't do for you.
Look, I know
you wanna chill wit a player, but
all you gotta do is
keep it real wit a player.
We don't have to be in love, we can
just be friends.
Just answer your phone whenever I call.
I'll treat you like milk,
I'll do nothing but spoil you. When
you walk right by,
Damned.
See you everyday,
when you come around
my way.

But Murphy Lee reminds me that what goes up, must come down. Lloyd Banks and Alicia Keys as well.

You tell me i remind you of the song. I say you remind me of the song. We're centimetres away yet it still feels comfortable only when we talk behind an electronic veil. I'm a chill on the straightforward black-whites where nothing's grey, and I'll look to Phil for solace. He gives half-baked advice and leaves me going back for more. Cos when you're around me, nothing's ever black-white.

I say, grab a pint of 'Hen and we can get drunk.
Bring on the Martell babies, we ain't popping no Moet just yet.

fresh from recluse 08:09 [+]

Family Values. As Durst put it, this is the real muthafuckin' deal y'all. See Lewis get all emo nemo.

fresh from recluse 09:34 [+]

martell martell martell.
no more shopping sprees.
smashing night and
personal victories.
no more late night creeps.
no more VIP, no more
dough.
we can't even kick it no more.
the game don't change.

fresh from recluse 22:42 [+]

What a difference a day makes, twenty four little hours. We get hit by the visuals but the fact that we are at where we are shows the sense of detachment. That however does not discount the fact that it happened. It was the eve of the Geography prelims then, I was huddled with trusty little Marianne Chong (the text, not the author), when the TV screamed Breaking News. And you wonder if you were getting all worried and panicky over all the wrong things. Five years on, how the world has changed. But reality remains, plainly, the same. Tomorrow Never Comes Until It's Too Late.

fresh from recluse 09:59 [+]

Life is fragile. Like the baby in your arms. Sometimes he thinks about how delicate life is, and gets momentarily jolted. The key word is momentarily. The question to ask is, when will this luxury cease to be a luxury, but become a reality. Then the key word takes on the direct opposite of its precedent. Permanence would have taken over the throne.

And Mum said, "Uncle Robert is with the Lord." Indeed he is.

fresh from recluse 12:59 [+]

At the rate this is going, I'm gonna die young. Mr. Morris, my best friend, has remained as constant as ever. More than constant, in fact. Though sometimes he's being replaced by D to the Hill, who is, by far, the easier to please of the two. Someone said to me, "Don't stop." It was ATB. And the president goes a fishing for bears. Little ones. Little one.

fresh from recluse 11:11 [+]

Three full hours of pseudo hell under the flames. Huffing and a puffing, thanks to Mr. Morris I figured. Mesmerised, I am.

fresh from recluse 12:21 [+]

Nursing the big sea. And only I know what I'm talking about here, which is what I want. Though it still doesn't make my day.

fresh from recluse 14:14 [+]

"What we've got here, is failure to communicate."



Those of you that recognise where this came from, kudos to you.

fresh from recluse 13:14 [+]

I could be wrong, I could be right.
I could be black, I could be white.














There's never wrong or right on the straightforward black-whites.

fresh from recluse 11:46 [+]

We spoke of was and when.

So. I finally got down to packing the room for school. I cleared the clutter accumulated on the couch that could no longer be sat on until now. But then again, I'm clearing the whole damned couch soon.

Was looking through the old stuff. My O level and JC stuff are still around, all thanks to my reluctance to throw them away. Laziness contributes to all but a small part of them still being around. I've got this unspoken sense of attachment towards them. Beats me too. But anyways, I got hard-hearted. Of course, the first to go was whatever that was related to Chemistry or Physics or Mathematics and anything of the like. I still kept a couple of history textbooks, but that's all about it. History was, by far, my favourite subject after all.

Then I came across my old eraser collection. From primary school. Those that you bought for 10cents apiece at the school bookshop. With the flags of countries and all. Back then there was still West Germany, South Vietnam, the Czech Republic was still Czechoslovakia, yeah you get my drift. I had random Dragonball ones too. During my time "rubber-fighting" was all the rave, I used to have more but i gave them away.

I'm amazed at the number of Quiksilver wallets I had. I went through this phase where I was insane about Mambo and Quik, kept all the tags I had from boardshorts, tshirts, and whatever there was from there that I put my hands on. "Mambo. Enlightenment Through Shopping." That was the tagline then. Kinda crazy I'd say. Threw all them tags away.

Full circle. I'd call this.



fine time rubber time.

fresh from recluse 14:19 [+]

come as you are


And I swear that I don't have a gun.
No, I don't have a gun.

But. If you still think I do after all this while.

fresh from recluse 11:18 [+]

new kicks.
not limited edition or anything like that.
but did i mention?
they only cost me 70 bucks.

fresh from recluse 10:54 [+]

nights like these,
a dime in a dozen.
friend like him, hell no.
one in a million.

fresh from recluse 23:27 [+]

Take a hike.

Now that the World Cup has finally ended I started thinking about what a friend of mine asked me a couple a days prior to the final match. We were just having a normal conversation and she asked me what I was doing over the weekend. My answer to her question was obvious. Watch Italy-France, no doubt. "Won't you feel a certain emptiness when it ends? I bet you'll suffer from withdrawal symptoms after that." This was what followed. In fact, no. I've been doing a whole lot of other stuff I wanted to do but got shelved because of the World Cup. And that bodes well of course.

I had a good conversation with a cab driver tonight. He talked about the Zidane headbutt, and Rooney and Cristiano Ronaldo and his support for Man Utd. We spoke about Eric Cantona and duly agreed that he was a legend.

Sometimes cab drivers let you learn something about yourself, or life per se. Just the other night one cabbie was telling me he would stop driving when he's earned enough to cover his rental and fuel for the night. It was 3 am. I got this feeling that every day (or every night) was kinda like a battle royale for them. They move out with the objective of covering rental/fuel and what not, earning a profit struck me as mere icing on the cake for them, something they wouldn't mind doing without. And how many of us are fortunate enough to not be able to worry about such matters. Sometimes we forget how lucky we are until little things like these hit us. And then we move on and forget about it all over again.

He then told me he looked forward to having a smoke after he covered enough for the night. That he wasn't gonna buy a pack until after he's done that. That killed me. I gave him a fag before I got off. I hope he didn't view it as charity, or pity or anything along those lines. I meant nothing of that. Just thought it'd perk him up enough to complete his battle royale, for the night. Before the cycle hits again 24 hours later, or less.

That brings me to the issue about the hike in cab fares. I am pretty damn certain that it's due to the unwillingness of taxi companies to lower down rental for the cabbies. If you asked me, I'd say there's seldom genuine welfare here. They got tired of demands to lower rental, so they pushed the burden to the consumer altogether. Which is logical I suppose, considering Singaporeans, being Singaporeans, probably wouldn't bat an eyelid about it. Not because we're affluent enough and all that bullshit about us being able to afford it, we probably have no heart nor voice to do anything. That's Singaporean. Oh well don't get me wrong I'm always on the side of the cab drivers. I don't mind paying more, but knowing that I'm paying more so someone else doesn't have to earn less, that kills me.

fresh from recluse 14:28 [+]

Gerald's 21st.
A ball of a time.
Drunken confessions, and
Uncontrollable laughter.
A whole lot of bonding.
And then some.

fresh from recluse 09:46 [+]

Once again, the thin line between agony, and ecstasy. That which distinguishes triumph, from heartache. The line gets blurred momentarily but it never fails to resurface, and draw out the ultimate distinction that so separates them.

fresh from recluse 16:13 [+]

Maybe, maybe it's the clothes we wear,
The tasteless bracelets and the dye in our hair,
Maybe it's our kookiness,
Or maybe, maybe it's our nowhere towns,
Our nothing places and our cellophane sounds,
Maybe it's our looseness,
But we are trash, you and me,
We're the litter on the breeze,
We're the lovers on the streets,
Just trash, me and you,
It's in everything we do,
It's in everything we do.
Maybe, maybe it's the things we say,
The words we've heard and the music we play,
Maybe it's our cheapness,
Or maybe, maybe it's the times we've had,
The lazy days and the crazes and the fads,
Maybe it's our sweetness,
But we're trash, you and me,
We're the litter on the breeze,
We're the lovers on the street,
Just trash, me and you,
It's in everything we do,

It's in everything we do.

Cecilia would've been really sad if she saw what Kennedy has become.

fresh from recluse 14:43 [+]

As of today, I declare myself dishevelled, depressed, defunct, diluted, downhearted, devastated, diminished, distant, devoid, disoriented, dejected, disconsolate, downcast, dispirited, depreciated, devalued, disheartened.

fresh from recluse 15:38 [+]

If that was meant for me, no I've never been pretending anything at all. I'm not the sort. So don't be upset with me. And if it wasn't, well, just thought you should know.

fresh from recluse 13:18 [+]

Anyway, on another note, here's somebody we can't get enough of. Say say say!!! Okaaayy..... Hooo!

fresh from recluse 13:16 [+]

I'm the riddler.

Heart-wrenching, to say the least, me and you. I'd call it a waste, like I always do. Got thrown in a riot van, and the coppers kicked him in. A roadtrip turned sour. A night of irritations. More spills than thrills, broke even at the end. I go there only for one solitary reason, and it ain't even substantial. The tap was worth it. The stripes got me going crazy, turquoise-orange ones. And they say the cycle continues, as sure as the sun. As constant as night and day. That's why they call it a cycle in the first place.

It was a day well-spent. I'd be lying if I said that I signed up for the law tea session because I was truly interested. Needed a valid excuse to excuse myself from work. Ah, the magic of repetition. Half an hour late, stayed for half an hour. Here's one for the interest level. John fell asleep on me but KarltheChandra Cuttings made it to go shopping. Right about time to go sneaker copping. That time will come. Gerald's off to Hong Kong tmr, the land of Gu Wat Zai, of Mong Kok and of course, HeadPorter. Hope he gets some for himself. Tomorrow's the day to clear up the room, about time I tell you.

Before you know it, Wednesday hits you again when you least expect it.

I say please don't slow me down if I'm going too fast.

fresh from recluse 14:28 [+]

To her, we were probably just random strangers that she'd seen only for the first time in her life. Still she treated us in kind and greeted us with a warmth I'd never expected. Not at a time when things weren't exactly going well. The look on her face killed me. And I knew at once what true sadness was. How true sadness felt. Because as I gave her a hug to bid goodbye, I felt it too.

fresh from recluse 12:19 [+]

Good friends we have
Oh good friends we've lost
Along the way
In this great future
You can't forget your past
So dry your tears, I say
Your feet, is your only carriage
And so you've got to push on through

Oh my little darling, don't shed no tears
Oh my little soldier, baby don't shed no tears
Everything's gonna be alright


I still remember why I posted this the other time, and I never want to post this here for the same reason ever again.

fresh from recluse 12:42 [+]

Top L-R: Michaelei, Teokin, Fatbird, Xavi. Bottom L-R: Myself, Simtoh, BSM Lek, Saiful, Neo Sim Xiong.

fresh from recluse 16:32 [+]

From L-R (with proper names): Myself, Xavier, Kin Hao, Michael, hell driver Nicholas, Shixiong, Seetoh, Alfred. Bravo Gun 1.

fresh from recluse 16:25 [+]

army idols. hur hur

fresh from recluse 16:20 [+]

I must maintain that I meant everything I said here (damned I actually said that?!)

fresh from recluse 16:19 [+]

So last Thursday I went for my battalion ORD dinner.
We've come a long way yeah guys.
Dying from the heat in India, not to mention daily triple curry meals and shitty combat rations during exercise.
Then came the biggie, one motherfucking month in Thailand. 31 motherfucking days.
Xavier lost one lousy little live primer and we stayed up all night with the rattan poonki and the sand looking for it. We nearly died cos we thought he'd be sent to DB for it. And some fucker got caught sleeping.
And we didn't get Best Battery just because our officer can't topo properly?
We ram the pickets and fire the damned TNT but you can't read the damned map good enough for us?
That must've been the biggest joke in the history of our formation. Fastest deployments and most number of on-time shots in the battalion, yet all we brought home was a heavy ali-baba bag with an even heavier heart.
Damned, the heartache.
Thunderwarrior was an inevitability and we went in no-holds-barred.
Never mind the biting cold.
Never mind it was always a bitch to light up a fag cos the wind was too damned strong.
It was our NSF swan-song and we dealt every blow with force.

23 SA 11th Mono Intake Bravo Battery Gun 1, you've been the pillar all this while.
The only crew with a LCP 2IC, but you proved to be the best no doubt about that.
Battalion ranging piece for both Crescendo and Thunderwarrior, we are legends in our own right.
There are no two ways about this. I want you guys to know just how fucking proud of you guys I am. You guys got the heart. And it shows. More than 300 rounds shot out in total. No other gun in our battalion can match that. We've taken up at least 60% of all the rounds available. The rest of the 17 guns just eat our dirt and compete for the scraps. How about that? I like the sound of it. You guys are the best. Be proud of it. Take it away with you, I assure you this is for life. When I was just a Private at Sispec my OC told me that pain is temporary, but glory is forever. And it holds true till this day, and possibly till the end of time.
I thank you with all my heart that each and every single one of you sweated your heart and soul and balls out for an ideal as vague as National Service. You've become legends in the unit, legends in your own right, and you only have yourselves to thank for.

Your trust, our confidence. Our confidence, your trust. Freedom is now back to grace your lives so enjoy it. I'll see you guys at ICT.

fresh from recluse 15:35 [+]

"It's a fucking circus out here." These were the exact words I said tonight. Never have I felt such tedium on an occasion I usually enjoy. It's just this short of turning into a chore. Anyway, I Stroked my pet Reptilia before putting him in his Juicebox to sleep, and iTunes ran overtime. Yeah, the night's not over, you're not trying hard enough. Dana strangely resembled Germ, which is kinda creepy.



I said please don't slow me down if I'm going too fast.

fresh from recluse 16:11 [+]

We learnt last night that zero tolerance was the key to all things. And we had a ball of a time. The world falls at your feet, you just gotta hustle. Well I'm just mighty glad them sneaks didn't get too darn soiled.

fresh from recluse 02:38 [+]

We burn dollar bills as often as we light a Phil Morris. Yet we still find zero solace. We need to erase. Fragile, like a baby in your arms. It ain't a coming. We'll take the plan, spin it sideways. Be gentle with me, I'd never willingly do you harm. If we had a choice, we'd drink away this madness. Yet it comes back. We did the wrong special K. I need to drink, more than you seem to think. We past upon the stair, but we will not speak of was and when. Right, on both counts.

fresh from recluse 15:01 [+]

So I got myself a brand new ear today.

And things seem to strike a balance, aurally. A madcap of a Wednesday night, but it had been a genuine reunion for since as long as I could remember. I caught up with the chalk and tip today. A simple half an hour which made good the remaining 23.5, and Martin Gore rang in my head the whole damned time I was out.



phangphang, if you're even reading the crap that's going on around here, this one's going out to you. I know you love this as much as I do.

fresh from recluse 12:23 [+]

fresh from recluse 13:09 [+]

I think I just found meself a new great-looking receptacle for housing Mr. Morris's grey alter ego(es). Hey Miucha, will I be seeing you this Friday? I sure hope the date's still on. You know I still love you.

fresh from recluse 12:03 [+]

I call this the threshold between agony and ecstasy.

fresh from recluse 08:33 [+]

fresh from recluse 08:31 [+]

fresh from recluse 08:31 [+]

fresh from recluse 08:30 [+]

fresh from recluse 08:28 [+]

an eventful night of sorts.

you. thanks for dropping by after work. made my day, or night rather. even though it was less than an hour? we havent spoken for so long since god knows when. and im glad we did. apologies for wanting to shower so badly. but i'll make it up soon yeah.

darren said that i was the devil for coercing him into supper. but what the heck. how can we not visit our very own backyard? gotta keep a constant check on our home turf.

john. it was an insightful conversation. though most part of it was littered with the O.C. but im grateful. glad u enjoyed the vids.

late-night O.C. again and it felt so much like it was exactly a year ago. back from india and hanging around too much at khatib and thomson and penimpin. if that's how u even spell it. and i wont click on that msn nick of hers to say hi cos i know things now are starkly different from it was exactly a year back. all the dumb things we did. hope u're getting along fine, not too messed up.

got work tmr. and reality knocks hard on my bedroom door at 11:30 a.m. night fellas.

fresh from recluse 13:14 [+]

I had the privilege of shaking Mr. J.B. Jeyaratnam's hand today. He looked a tired man but his handshake was firm as hell. Which tells a lot, really. I hope it's not a lost cause he's fighting for. Big Brother's lurking around for goodness' sake. Act with restraint even in your own space.

Reminds me of a song though.

Cue to your face so forsaken
Crushed by the way that you cry
Cue to your face so forsaken
What a surprise
You try to break the mould
Before you get too old
You try to break the mould
Before you die
Cue to your heart that it racing
Stung by the look in your eye
Cue to your heart that is racing
What a surprise

You try to break the mould
Before you get too old
You try to break the mould
Before you die

Cue to your face so forsaken
Crushed by the way that you cry
Cue to your face so forsaken
Saying goodbye

Sing for your lover like blood from a stone
And sing for your lover who's waiting at home
If you sing when you're high and you're dry as a bone
Then you must realise that you're never alone
And you'll sing with the dead instead

You try and break the mould,
Before you get too old
You try and break the mould,
Before you die

Sing for your lover like blood from a stone
And sing for your lover who's waiting at home
If you sing when you're high and you're dry as a bone
Then you must realise that you're never alone
And you'll sing with the dead instead.

And you'll sing with the dead instead.
Instead.

fresh from recluse 14:23 [+]

"Then" is a strong word that's often underrated.

Guess where I stopped by today. I sat on the exact spot where I'd usually wait and saw the exact same scene of cars passing me by as I counted the minutes which felt like hours. Listening to the exact same Third Eye Blind album I'd play for the umpteenth time on my then Sony discman, but this time round on my iPod. Things have changed all right. I'd be damned if I said they haven't. 5 years have gone by in what I'd call a jiffy, even the seats and bus-ads have changed. But you remained constant, and solid, as sure as the sun. I've said this before. Whatever good there is in me, I owe it to you and you alone. Whatever that's not so good, well, that's my own doing. I was there today, reliving the times and retracing my steps, exactly as it was then. The only thing's that today wasn't then, that's all. Thanks for the times. They were well worth my effort. Well worth it.

fresh from recluse 10:00 [+]

random yet all too familiar at the same time.

fresh from recluse 09:50 [+]

fresh from recluse 09:49 [+]

look at you, all spruced up.

fresh from recluse 09:48 [+]

Yup.

fresh from recluse 09:47 [+]

A rare Placebo-Bowie partnership for Without You I'm Nothing. Since this song's been stuck in my head lately.

fresh from recluse 12:17 [+]

lights

fresh from recluse 02:39 [+]

random.

fresh from recluse 02:38 [+]

in the VIP, hur hur.

fresh from recluse 02:37 [+]

this bitch likes to stir shit.

fresh from recluse 02:36 [+]

Lil' Miss Cooper............ damned. To my pleasure, Poptart WAS a riot. And yeah I got framed for saying something I didn't.

fresh from recluse 13:16 [+]

You cannot imagine the regret i felt when I read the papers today and found out that Placebo played Without You I'm Nothing at their mini gig yesterday. And I was in town then but I gave that a miss. Damned. Anyways, my Poptart debut tonight, hope it'll be a riot.

This is random, but what's with bolding the band name anyway? I figured it's just people's way of telling the world how cool they are. That's the blogging world for you I guess. In case you were thinking, yeah I did that to irritate and to annoy =)


Strange infatuation seems to grace the evening tide
I'll take it by your side
Such imagination seems to help the feeling slide
I'll take it by your side
Instant correlation sucks and breeds a pack of lies
I'll take it by your side
Oversaturation curls the skin and tans the hide
I'll take it by your side

Tick tock
Tick tock
Tick tick
Tick
Tick
Tick tock

I'm unclean, a libertine
And every time you vent your spleen
I seem to lose the power of speech
You're slipping slowly from my reach
You grow me like an evergreen
You've never seen the lonely me at all

I take the plan, spin it sideways
I fall
Without you I'm nothing
Without you I'm nothing
Without you I'm nothing
Take the plan, spin it sideways
Without you I'm nothing at all


Just, a song I really love.

fresh from recluse 04:52 [+]

Absence makes the heart fonder.

More than 2 years ago, I went out with this very close friend of mine for the very last time. It wasn't much of an outing. We talked briefly and he left quickly after that, almost abruptly.

In fact, I didn't expect that to be the last time seeing him for such a long while. But we did arrange to catch up again tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. You heard me right. He's quite a small guy, with very angular features. I'd call his features rectangular even, if there was such a word to begin with. I remember he could never ever get dark or tanned, most of the time looking reddish, or pink, rather. Come to think of it, I got to know him when I was sec 3, on the exact day I turned 15. And the thing about him was that he was a man of few words. In fact he never did speak at all. But he knew all about me, and he could tell you my full name, my exact home address, my blood group even. That's how much he knew me. That's how close we were. Inseparable.

Now now, I'm sure you know why I'm so eager to meet up with him tomorrow. I hope he's the same person he used to be. He must be, I don't think anything about him will change. And I like him that way, as a friend of course. Nothing Brokeback about that I can assure you.

His name, is Pink I.C.

And tomorrow, after meeting him. We'll meet up with another close friend of ours to catch up. In case you didn't know, she is quite a personality. Her name is Freedom, and she is the newly crowned homecoming queen of the year. I'm sure you guys know who she is.
I swear I can't wait.

fresh from recluse 09:35 [+]

butter factory.

a night of thrills and spills with the boys. much love from john, frank and pearce as we caught them in action first-hand. we have them to thank for a great outing. old school asahi ashtrays, and aprons. bumped into ben b. as well which was quite a surprise. ginger ale never did go wrong. nights like these are worth more than a million bucks.

fresh from recluse 10:07 [+]

the jocks of jeremyville.

fresh from recluse 10:06 [+]

wall art.

fresh from recluse 09:57 [+]

pearce, the man of the bar.

fresh from recluse 09:55 [+]

We look out upon the sea, the coast is always changing. I'll bring my camera out to sea. The coast is always changing. Until May hits, things just don't feel too right.

fresh from recluse 02:39 [+]

I'm thinking I might be able to kick it totally after all. I'm thinking that school might be pretty tough to adapt to. I'm thinking that life may very well remain mediocre for the rest of what's left of it. I'm thinking martell with good friends, loud music and a whole lot of love. I'm thinking fengshui. I'm thinking this wonderment may not last as long as I had hoped it would. I'm thinking indie, Maximo style. I'm thinking I might miss army after all (nah who am I kidding). I'm thinking vampires, and temptresses. I'm thinking how the schemer will get punished. I'm thinking instalment-based luxuries, interest-free. I'm thinking violence, no-holds-barred. I'm thinking wrong-righting. I'm thinking crooked, not in that sense. I'm thinking cartons, cheap ones, preferrably red. I'm thinking clicking ankles. I'm thinking niceness is worthless now, so is trueness. I'm thinking biolyn, lifetime supply. I'm thinking two wrongs don't make a right, but it's gotta start somewhere. I'm thinking shopping for furniture. I'm thinking blood is thicker than water, any day. I'm thinking discplined cardio. I'm thinking party poopers, drink-deprived desperadoes (we call this an increasing alliterative cadence). I'm thinking revolution. I'm thinking subjectivity due to relativity. I'm thinking flea entrepreneurship. I'm thinking ORD, smelling it too. I'm thinking crossing the line. I'm thinking grey, that which mars the straightforward black-whites.

fresh from recluse 11:25 [+]

Douglas.

fresh from recluse 11:31 [+]

pseudo lomo. acrobats doing their thing.

fresh from recluse 11:30 [+]

The launch party for Raoul turned out to be nicer than expected, but of course I must admit the freely flowing Piper-Heidsieck did lift my spirits up a little more. The Evian mocktails worked their magic as well. Kenny's turned 21, thought it was good seeing so many old, familiar faces all over again. Though I dare say a couple of them ruined the night. Alcohol should always be taken in moderate amounts, a cliche proven many times tonight. And so this ends one full week of non-stop daily 9 to 5 work, which will culminate in a conclusion a couple of hours later with tuition. I could get used to this. Though I'd best rather not.

fresh from recluse 11:09 [+]

General handyman I was. And
dollies never seemed so hard to come by. Till
Today.
Hooked on Electric Company, and
vampires, but only
One. Disappointment, a tinge of.
Which is scary, and
Weird. Weird's
The word. Lady,
Hear me tonight.
And I could almost hear
You say, "Maybe tomorrow night."
I say, "1 hour train rides plus
repeats of World, and Postcard."

fresh from recluse 10:52 [+]

Song to Say Goodbye.

fresh from recluse 03:58 [+]

I'm still pretty much stuck in my Thailand rut so I figured it'd take some time before I publish any photos from there, if any at all. I have, however, drawing inspiration from the twochineseboys, set up an account with YouTube. No worries I haven't resorted to lip-synching BSB songs as yet, if we can even call those songs per se. I've put up some of the vids of the Bangkok100 concert there. Search for "psychedup" under Users. Or you can simply click on THIS. Most of them aren't clear as hell and all, but have a ball of a time anyways.

fresh from recluse 09:09 [+]

And we Broke our Back(s) on Valentine's. Well spent.

fresh from recluse 10:11 [+]

A night of decisions, of deliberations,
Of Beyond, and Placebo.
And of double shot hot tea, Reds from across the Straits,
the eventuality that my night will be made.
These bonds are shackle-free.

fresh from recluse 12:11 [+]

So. I was just lazing on Lennard's couch earlier watching the re-run of the Grammys on television when I suddenly felt damn, bloody L. Yeah it's that word and it's come back to haunt me. There are quite a number of things I'd love to be doing and I know full well what they are. Pink Floyd was playing on the stereo in Darren's car and he sounded better than ever. We haven't been to Wala's in a bit, think it's about time we paid Shirleen a visit.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day for me I reckon. But hey I ain't complaining, going back to Khatib Camp to return my damned bedsheets and pillow cases only means I'm probably not gonna be needing that stuff anymore. And I like the thought of that.

Anyway, somehow I feel that I no longer have as much freedom of speech on this blog as I used to have in the past. I guess I only have myself to blame that the exclusiveness and anonymity of this blog has been gradually eroded. The day I start yakking about "Wow today I met blah blah blah and did this this this and ate at that that that", or "Today I just bought the most expensive -insert expensive brand label here- bag or whatever", and so on and so forth, then I know I've completely lost it. Not just "freedom of speech" per se, but I'd say even bigger things. Individuality, even. The beauty of statistics never did get to me, even though Stats was my saving grace for A level Math. But no, it'd be sad to become a statistic. And a dumb one at that.

This is a long post, because I've got random thoughts flying all over the place bumping into one another as they struggle to echo out to my ears. Things sure have changed starkly since New Zealand, but I thank God everyday we came home safe, not just myself and my guys but the entire battalion as well. Everynight I'd be hiding in my long johns huddled in my sleeping bag sleeping in the v.comd seat in the damned 7-ton. I'd wind down the window (just a little) for what I'd like to call my good-night fag before I hit the sack. And I'd pray for awhile before I sleep, either before or after I spoke to Phil Morris. But I'd definitely do that. In case anyone who doesnt know me well is reading this, I'm not exactly a very staunch or pious or religious person, but I am a God-fearing man. My Mum taught me that. And I'm thankful. But anyhow, the crux of this is, we made it back safe. And that's the whole damned point. That means more to me than anything else, even ORD-ing. And if anybody thinks that is no big deal, well I can't dictate yr opinion but all I can say is you got no idea what has happened there before. Oh well, I am getting a tad too long-winded on this.

See what I mean. I used to type freely and frivolously on this dashboard. But right now I find myself having to explain some of my actions or my words. Which isn't what I set out to do. I owe nobody no explanation. Whatsoever. This has to stop here.

fresh from recluse 09:49 [+]

They tried to kill me tonight. I swear. Especially Jem and Darren. We had a gathering with our close friends Chivas, Heineken, Martell and the lovely Flaming. Nothing intense, just the usual get-together. Was a bit irritated by some crocodile tricks, though I expected this sorta behaviour from those involved. The one involved. It has since become commonplace. I would call it less of a habit as it has become a lifestyle. Not mine thankfully. And it gets on my nerves, a hell lot. Miss FHM-Top-100 was there again tonight, and I jacked her quite a bit. Few of the Charmed ones were there too, to my delight of course. Just as I was talking to C the other day, how long can this lifestyle last? When will we grow tired of it, or rather, grow out of it. Remains very much a big question-mark. Oh well.

By the way, the highlight of the night was the hot-dog. All fucking 3 bucks of it.

fresh from recluse 13:23 [+]

All Sundays should be like this. 2pm breakfast, and I headed for the flea at around 4 to meet the guys. Way off the initially planned 3pm meeting time but what the heck, who cares. We function on rubber time. I function on rubber time. I walked around mostly on my own because it's just a habit of mine to shop alone. Just checking out cheap bargains, the occasional t-shirt that catches my eye, the one (pair) in a million (pairs) Presto that was going for 10 bucks, and simply just soaking in the atmosphere. A therapeutic experience I would say. A sense of rejuvenation I might add. Idle chat over latte and morris huddled in a cosy spot where we would usually be consuming alcohol instead of caffeine. Nothing felt tensed. All was progressing at normalcy I'd say. Lazy beings on a lazy afternoon. I would call that a luxury. A moment of luxury, perhaps. Or maybe I am one who doesn't expect much. Well, all Sundays should be like this, even for those who don't expect much.

fresh from recluse 09:21 [+]

As I've always said, any experience, in retrospect, will always seem more positive than when one is experiencing it itself. And this is what I will say about my trip to New Zealand, and possibly my army life. I shall not venture further into details (unhappy ones) lest some sort of Big Brother is monitoring my site. So yeah, overall, it was a positive experience, in RETROSPECT, of course. =) I'm sure you get the drift.

fresh from recluse 09:19 [+]

Matt Groening stole these clouds for his show.

fresh from recluse 09:17 [+]

And they went running and a running.

fresh from recluse 09:17 [+]

Clockwise from left: myself, the wing man, the youngest man, the ammo hercules, the relac jack, the best worker, the recce wiz, the ground man, and lastly, our trusty 155mm HE that never failed us.

fresh from recluse 09:16 [+]

Peeking out.

fresh from recluse 09:16 [+]

Phil Morris paid me a visit.

fresh from recluse 09:08 [+]