constructive vandalism

i have a distinct example of 'constructive vandalism'. i found this poem scribbled on one of the tables in school - amazingly hilarious, and of good literary value. lol

if i were gay (an ode to a gay friend)

here we are, dear old friend
you and i, drunk again
laughs had been had
tears have been shed
and maybe the vodka's gone to my head.

but if i were gay
i would give you my heart
if i were gay
you'd be my work of art
if i were gay
we'd swim in romance
but i'm not gay
so get your hand out of my pants

its not that i don't care, i do
i just dont see myself in you
another time, another scene
i'll be right behind you
(if you know what i mean)

but if i were gay
i would give you my soul
if i were gay
i would give you my hole
and if i were gay
we'd tear down the walls
but i'm not gay
so won't ou stop licking my balls.

ok. it seems that vandals are becoming much more sophisticated through poetry.

a sore thumb

ive simply been too lazy to blog for a long long time cos blogging's starting to lose its appeal to me. lol. ok so lets begin on whats going on with this life of mine.
1. i happened to get my results, which came as a pleasant suprise. C(history) - D(lit) - O(econs) - b4(gp). this was after every single teacher took a swing at my ego and made me feel so useless that i was almost certain i screwed up my prelims big time. but NO, somehow it turned out rather alright.
2. i just came home from my cousin's wedding. ironically i didn't realise she was my cousin until like few days ago, all along i thought she was my aunt or smth. its one of those generation thingys which is oh-so-complicated. anyway it was by the beach at sentosa in a rather nice setting. aside from the fact that its really out of the way, i guess all else was fine.

ok so i guess thats life for now. this entry seems like a sore thumb compared to the rest of my entries which all have some sort of comment on life. well this doesnt have one so i shall continue and persevere with this monotonous life of mine.

-

once again ive subject myself to the caress of Nature

its intriguing to note how life seems to work; we never know how much we miss someting until we lose it.
i'm beginning to miss leaning in on the curves, feeling the lactic in my legs or simply just bursting out of the blocks. its now just another memory.

Of course, the greatest confluence of all is that which makes up the human memory, the individual human memory. My own is the treasure most dearly regarded by me in my life and in my work as a writer. Here time also i subject to confluence. The memory is a living thing - it, too, is in transit. But during its moment, all that is remembered joins and lives - the old and the young, the past and the present, the living and the dead. - Eudora Welty

and i've let something i treasured slip through my fingers

.

from a last copied coffee-stained bk i bought at kino;

For writers, of course, begin as listeners, privileged listeners, wholly uncritical and appreciative of the voices that seem to descend to us out of air. It might be theorized that we who write, write in order to read what we have written and, reading it, to hear voices nowhere else accessible. We hope to recapture some of the magic that gradually departs from the world as we mature into it. So our delusions keep us going.
-Joyce Carol Oates

1950s

the stories of old never fail to mesmerize me

finally i'm back and able to embrace technology. ive been deprived this whole time in m'sia but ive got no regrets going there cos ive seen and learnt things that could never be taught elsewhere.

one of the most amazing things i saw there was on day 1 when my grandma was meeting her sister at some run down hotel(which was hip like 30 years ago). anyway the moment the two of them met it, they immediately started talking abt the place where they lived in the past (cos we just walked past it). and its just mesmerizing to see two 60+++ year olds linking hands and walking down the street. its been a really long time since i've seen my grandma so happy. perhaps someday i'll walk down the streets of old and point out to my grandchildren and tell my story.

and sometimes i wish i could stop time and admire my surroundings.