Hey mom, I wrote you some soft songs.

I've been humoring Jack for the past two days

and I'm basically losing my sanity.

I wanted to start laughing when he ran out of

the room yelling that he needed me

to help him unzip his pants,

and then leave and shut the door

cause he had to do a poop.

Then the door flies back open later

and I have to go in and help him wipe.

"Look at my poo, it's as big as a man!

Every time I get a big poo, I'll

tell you to come look."

Couldn't laugh though.

Need a break, and I will get one.

He's going out with his dad,

he struggles with his jacket

and I reach over to zip him up,

with him staring out at me from

under his hood,

his little face solemn.

"I'll come right back to see you,

and we can play but just for awhile

cause my dad says so."

He informs everyone that he would be back

to play with me,

and on the third person,

he forgets my name.

I'll miss him.

*

Being cooped up indoors without

the liberty to breeze out of the house

and hop onto readily available public transportation

is seriously getting to me.

Coupled with my grown-out-like-grass-quick

Lego hair, I feel like

a deranged writer or Galileo under house arrest.

Except I'm not really producing anything of worth.

On the other hand,

my palate is very much in working condition,

hence the thundering towards lard-dom.

First Day's Meals When I Get Back:

Chicken Rice for lunch,

Al Ameen for dinner.

Twelve days left, count down with me you guys.

PS. I think the Devil Wears Prada show is sold out.

Fuck?

Let's hope they set aside some tickets for selling at the door.

So what's new & how are you?

How's this for an update:

The past three days have been too cold for jogging,

if this keeps up I'll become Super Lard,

but anyway,

I got new stuff to put on my body.

New shades, new hat, new vest which I'm

going to shamelessly wear as a top, but seeing as

it was from Guess, that's probably what they had in mind,

new stud belt [yay finally], new kicks.

Writing about clothes brings to light

the fact that nothing much has been going on,

except for:

Hanging out with the family,

brushing up on my culinary skills,

[okay, so it was deviled eggs and therefore idiot-proof]

and driving at the beach.

About 16 days until I go home,

I miss my ridicly humid and sunny island

because it has all my favourite people, food

and places.

But first the Zolof/Pink Spiders show,

Devil Wears Prada show,

New York City.

Run, run, run to your grave.

Plane ride:

6 Ceedees from Mark, The Mighty Boosh [YAY!!],

Haruki Murakami and writing in my robot notebook.

25 hours of traveling, one obnoxious old korean man

who kept elbowing me as he repacked his tiny bag

for fifteen minutes, burnt airplane food.

*

Welcome to Boston.

It's St. Patrick's Day, the fire's roaring,

Idol is on and everyone's watching but me.

Posting in Singapore time cause I don't know

how to get this to work otherwise.

We're in the country ya'll,

we've got our own chickens and eggs.

I'm here not exactly festering but

-WAIT DUDE I JUST SAW A COMMERCIAL

AGAINST WEED ON TV and a viagra ad just now.

I'm not festering but my brain is kind of on 'wheee

free to leave the room' mode.

You got me shaking like a first class plane crash.

Leaving in: 

4 days.

Jane Austen, Haruki Murakami and Nylon for the plane.

Pictures for my wall and notebook.

Mark Pichay and I at Parkway Parade,

then somehow we ended up at Singa Inn,

which I read, to my horror, was

closing down on the 20th of march.

My daddy met Mark, that was not too weird,

just funny cause we are horrible at golf.

*

It's really funny, this thing called chance. [or Fate, if you like]

So many actions you could take,

so many choices,

and yet the one you ultimately pick

brings you here.

In that alternate universe where you're running

a bit late, you don't meet the boy

you're going out with now on the train.

It's weird cause you could have

possibly met him in so many other situations,

earlier in time, but you didn't,

 and cause the circumstances would have

been different you would not

end up in the reality you are in now.

How fucking scary and cool is that?

Desolation Row.

Life is many things but

it isn't long, and it isn't fair.

That is something we'll all have to come to terms with.

We need to stop waiting for

reasons and Forever.

They exist, in some ways,

but none of them are concrete

or the same as what we have now.

Most of us let the uncertainty

get to us and that is why

anger and fear plagues everyone alive.

I am angry and I am afraid.
My youth is temporary.

My happiness volatile.

People have hurt me and

I've returned the favour and

I see all the shit this world is capable of

and yet everyone goes on living.

I'm still living.

*

Who will watch the watchmen?

Follow and feel.

Boston calls, because my grandpa is

rather sick and it's about time for a visit.

Leaving the sweltering heat and grudgingly handed-out

freedom for the below-freezing weather,

cookie baking sprees and Hot Topic [hawhaw] visits

on the 16th.