by | | Random
Prawns with satay sticks being shoved up their asses and grilled alive.
I finally finished my exams today after a crazy two week rush to devour the books in my stomach. yum yum. Now that it is over and done with i went with Willie to go prawn fishing! During the first time round, he drove all the way to Jurong and the place was closed. Undetered, we decided to try again at Marina South. We managed to find the place after ending up in east coast and the GPS system was misleading him instead of guiding him. “Turn Left, Turn Left” … then we were like “Where got left ?!”. “Do a U-Turn”… and we didn’t see any u-turns x_X
After a gruesome ride and many wrong routes we ended up at the place. It was a very dark narrow road into the place. There was no lights. Guess what? It is closed too! So we went to two places without avail. The prawn fishing addiction is unbearable, we just have to hook up some prawns and BBQ them alive!!
I guess we are going to try again next time at Westlake. ( i didn’t know the name really meant that there were fishing lakes in the area ) Just hope that the place is not closed AGAIN!
Will update with more photos in my future entries, my camera is gathering rust in the cupboard.
by | | Photoshoots
and tasty too.
by | | OneLineQuotes, Photoshoots
She is going to fly to a better place…
by | | Random
Aaron of EastWest PR invited me for a Revlon‘s Colourstay Mineral Collection yesterday at Botanical Gardens.
(more…)
by | | FlashFiction, Private
She looked at her reflection in the mirror, she could not see herself.
A star drops from the skies
Crashing down into the earth
Broken into fragile small pieces
In heat of anger, she smashed the mirror onto the floor.
Like sea shells on the shore
Bits and pieces litter the beach
Glittering under the moonlight
She took a shard and plunged it deep down her veins.
Volcanic ashes fill the skies
Blurring the sun from view
Red hot lava drips down the earth
Cherry blossoms, Red stars… drifing into v o i d
by | | FlashFiction
Sometimes
I cuddle in the corner
at the far end of the room
thinking i am not dead or alive
a spirit that haunts the earth
walking on grounds others thread
walking into the memory road
feeling the sensations of being alive
when i was truly happy and sad
i could no longer feel a tear
it has frozen with time
like snowflakes in a winters storm
there are no days or nights
worldly perceptions are illusions
the cracks surfaces on the walls
as they crumble down into pieces
the wind takes them away with time
the old destroyed, replaced by the new
I cuddle against the far end of the room
afraid to open my eyes to face the storm
wishing that it would end
as a tear drips from my lifeless eyes
by | | Random
Recently, a fellow friend who prefers to remain autonomous decided to take up blogging.
He calls himself Tryptology. (although i dont really know what it means, it sounds cool !)
Sometimes, science just fails to explain every pheomeon in the world. That is when self-invented theories come in. They do not have to be proven! (not everything is proven either) It can be illogical or just based on tapping into the knowledge of the universe.
Today, Trptology has decided to follow the lead and come out with his own theory on caffeine headaches:
I have a theory about caffeine headaches. They are the result of toxins built up in the body accumulated through caffeine use. My hypothesis is that caffeine halts the natural detox process in the body. It triggers the body’s emergency flight or fight response, prepping it up for an ‘ultimate state of mind’, relieving pain, postponing sleep and rest, etc. This accumulates a kind of body ‘debt’ which expresses itself in the form of fatigue and toxin accumulation. Of course, repeated caffeine use halts the user from feeling these symptoms. It is only when they stop caffeine, are they alerted to the true state of their body.
I kind of agree with that, i just can’t seem to focus without coffee!!
Did i mention that i spent $60 on coffee alone the past month?
Coffee is a real killer.
Visit his new blog at http://tryptology.wordpress.com/
by | | FlashFiction
Falling back into
a deep deep dream
I wonder if i could ever
wake up
my warped memories
a haunting darkness of evil laughters and pointing fingers
They gather around, pointing, laughing
I buried my head in my arms, kneeling in the middle
I screamed and screamed, trying to drown out their laughter
Eyes of green sinister fabrication is all i see.
wake up…
My warped memories
A teardrop of undying pain drips across my frozen cheeks
My lover tries to wake me up, i could hear him but i can’t feel him
In a deep deep coma in darkness, there is no light at the end of the tunnel.
wake up…
My warped memories
A hundred girls being dragged out of their homes
By devil like faces with a long heavy sword,
Raped right in front of their ancestral homes
and killed immediately before sunrise
wake up…
My warped memories
Taking me further away from the darkness
There is no reprieve from the devil’s shrine
Drifting heavier and heavier… crawling weaker and weaker
Towards the light at the end of the tunnel
before the darkness consume my soul.
“Wake up”.
by | | World
There was once i asked my mum why did she take up classical piano.
She replied, “Music is a universal language, no other language can replace it.”
For my typically bimbotic handbag perfume loving mother to say something so profound shocked me initially, i recovered after a while and pondered about it. No matter how much i tried to argue within my heart, i couldn’t find a better argument for her statement (i am used to arguing with her when she says illogical stuff like sleeping with my cat makes me sneeze).
“There are so many barriers in languages, not everyone can understand the differences in language. For music, it is different, everyone can understand the emotions in music, and that is what makes it such a powerful communication tool.”
It is true, no matter how flowery or brilliant language can be, its impact is limited within that few words in a statement (that is if the person reading it has a good comprehension of the language in question). Music is different, its impact is so powerful that anyone in the world can be swayed with its emotions.
Which reminds me, when i was in St Francis doing my A levels, a teacher called up an “ah beng” from my class to play the piano. With tattoos all over his chest and tattered knuckles, i thought he was the least likely candidate to be able to play the piano (more like karate).
“Play us a song about how you feel” My music teacher kindly instructed. When he sat on the pedestral and started moving his fingers across the keys… i was astounded. I could feel his emotions as he played the notes… his body swayed with the melody as he transported us to another land. My impression of him changed drastically after that, i did not see him as a gangster, in fact, i admired him.
by | | Private
