PANDORA'S PARADOXXX

a warm flush now rosed her hitherto blue cheeks.

Fri, 31 Oct 2008 21:05:50 GMT

What does C see in A? I asked myself heftily.

The rain is relentless. It ravages innocent blades of grass.

"Tell me where it all went wrong
Maybe I can make it better
Tell me where it all went wrong
Don't you know that you really upset her?
When you act like a man who is cross with every woman he's never had
If it's true looks could kill and you will be the first to make me mad
Then you'll have to go
Is this the kind of fate you could contemplate?
A breakdown at my very sight
I promise hidden words of tenderness in every single line that I write
Still you act like a man who is cross with every woman he's never had
If it's true looks could kill and you will be the first to make me mad
Then you'll have to go
Maybe you'll have to go
Is it true looks can kill?
Is it true looks can kill?
Is it true looks can kill?"

So is it true that A is a closeted A-bomb waiting to detonate?

The rain is razzle-dazzle. It ravishes the innocuous blues in me.

"Rose, I'm feeling older
I was as lucky as a four-leaved clover
I tried to be happy it wasn't easy
When I choose my colour it will be Razzle Dazzle Rose
Rose, I'm feeling older
Courage my love it makes me bolder
Expecting softness can lead to fooliishness
When I choose my colour it will be Razzle Dazzle Rose"

A & C. All is not roses in Rome today. I will avoid them sub rosa.

i-Do not have a life

Sat, 17 May 2008 21:17:30 GMT

We are as alone as the French Alps.

Mon, 02 Jul 2007 14:24:48 GMT

Such is a statement undisputed by centurions of philosophy entrepreneurs, but I boldly challenge the reailty of such communal beliefs.

You know, hearing fluff about friends being all affectionate makes me wonder whether I want it or not, which sucks even more cos all that doubt unabashedly circumvents at the end of the day with that same conclusion that I don't. Not because I'm inhuman. I think I'm just wired this way.

Houston, we have a problem...

Oh. Did I mention that I don't appreciate how people equate the digital expounding of life to reality and take everything that is posted on blogs to be the be all and end all? Especially the quantifications on the friends I have. Yea, I find that particular peculiar of a shallowesque Annoyance 101.

"Making reservations since 1989"

Fuck

convinced otherwise

Sat, 19 May 2007 08:06:03 GMT

"And Man created the plastic bag and the tin and aluminum can and the cellophane wrapper and the paper plate, and this was good because Man could then take his automobile and buy all his food in one place and He could save that which was good to eat in the refrigerator and throw away that which had no further use. And soon the earth was covered with plastic bags and aluminum cans and paper plates and disposable bottles and there was nowhere to sit down or walk, and Man shook his head and cried: 'Look at this Godawful mess.'"

- Art Buchwald 1970

Duke Special on Jools Holland

Mon, 14 May 2007 10:20:11 GMT

Dirty Little Secret Move Along

Sat, 12 May 2007 05:05:30 GMT

It's a secret secret
for nobody.

Tue, 01 May 2007 09:20:40 GMT

deeper roots,
higher shoots.

Existentialism

Tue, 17 Apr 2007 02:08:38 GMT

No matter how flawed this philosophy seems/sounds/is, I self devine.

Leave?

Tue, 10 Apr 2007 05:17:38 GMT

Out of question, out of mind,
challenging,
stretching the threshold of tolerance while
pushing the boundaries of intellectual stimulation,
nothing is impossible,
so I try to make myself at home.
privatisation, the crue calls it.
what a word to render
aristocratic piracy, individuality,
and best of all,
god-forsaken privacy.

Portrait

Wed, 28 Mar 2007 10:59:29 GMT

Paint my picture if you must,
Please remember to be kind.
'Cause darling, your broken heart was never on my mind.

Paint me with a building heart
Like some cruel valentine
But darling, your broken heart was never on my mind.

And when you feel the clash, and you don't want me around,
Could you endure the rasp as kisses filled with fibreglass rain down

Heavy as a hummingbird
But more difficult to find
Well darling, your broken heart was never on my mind.

Clumsy as a ragtime clown
Or a dancing Frankenstein
Well darling, your broken heart was never on my mind

So pull this canvas down beneath that angry moon
As you endure the sound of one more singer singing out of tune.
Out of tune.

So paint my picture, well, if you must
Not forgetting to be kind
Cause darling, your broken heart was never on my mind.

-- Duke Special

I lied. PROCRASTINATE AND DIE!!

Mon, 26 Feb 2007 03:21:27 GMT

FORUM: Environment

THE QUESTION OF: Land clearing and deforestation

THE ENVIRONMENT COMMITTEE,

Fully alarmed

Truth is, I don't give two hecks of the coin. I love the earth, forests for this matter, but I'm not about to convince 3/4 of the world to. Talk about ecovangelism.

Yea well, 4 months back I sold my soul to the noble cause of the THInkMUNdate, given the Singapore chops by our cordial French School. And now I sit here in the computer laboratory of my school wondering why's it even called a laboratory. Unless you consider writing an essay and posting it on LiveJournal an experiment. Sad ain't it? English and Science never had it coming and will never get it on. A fact which most science teachers can and will attest to, with their lame beggings to not mind their language. Well, their excuse is that they spend a bulk of their lives in real laboratories where scientific experiments are carried out, surrounded by 2-3 letter chemical short forms, thus they simply cannot be held responsible for their lack of linguistical prowess. BOLLOCKS! Just sweet bollocks. All we ever ask of them is to conjure comprehensible, gramatically-correct sentences pronounced the way it should be. Is that too much to ask of tertiary-trained adults who have sat through uncountable spelling and dictation tests which constituted to much of elementary education? Don't mind me, I have too much time to crash and burn.

Why'm I in the computer ROOM to begin with? For one, I have 4 hours to kill. Key reason why I never turn up on Mondays. But well, karma always finds its way back, a bite to the butt. No prizes for guessing who didn't turn up today. Yea, the pseudo-geisha with two visibly undefined mulberry powder blots on her cheeks, the one who marks our attendance. More importantly, I'm here to complete overdue work, which I fear and/or know I'll never complete. Have my hopes up high that the National Library will do me MINT AND DAPPER later in the day.

Ok, Do It For The Kids. The international kids and the French School experience.. Make Out Kids hahaha. Call it "VELVET REVOLVER shoots MOTION CITY SOUNDTRACK" incident. They say the French make good fries and kisses, I pick MacDonald's and Hershey's for the convenience.

Just overheard my friend saying, with regards to GP, "Science is the solution to everything!" Nice going, Chou De (ugly one) !

Guilteth Forgiveness

Thu, 08 Feb 2007 04:43:00 GMT

We stand on the face of the earth,
Reaching out for the high heavens,
Barely touching the clouds in the sky.

We seek forgiveness amongst brothers,
Asking for a little empathy.
And what we get is simply antipathy.

We've been climbing the wrong mount (everest),
Barking up the wrong tree (of knowledge),
Which our free will deceives from within.

We will stand at the gates of St Peter,
Waiting for the word of salvation,
Waiting for that careless whisper
of God's pardoning.

Couplets

Tue, 06 Feb 2007 12:46:53 GMT

Two girls found dead. My sons go to the morgue.
Two cots, thick rubber gloves, two body bags.

Too long stuffed in a culvert, raped and stabbed,
too decomposed to recognise. Too sad.

Two local ne'er-do-wells no doubt abused
too much as children themselves, stand mute.

Two caskets in a room, two families undone.
Two ministers. Two homilies. My sons

too busy with flowers and townspeople
to contemplate the problem of evil,

to shake their fists at God, regard instead
two funerals - the living and the dead

to be transported in their separate griefs -
two hearses to be washed, two limousines.

Today the wakes and paperwork details.
Tomorrow a burning and a burial.

Two girls found dead of known brutalities
together forever, precious memories

too sweet, too savage, too beautiful and bad
to keep at bay by ritual or words.

Two boys about their father's business learn
to number, comfort, witness and keep track.

-- Thomas Lynch

self-preservation

Tue, 22 Aug 2006 15:37:20 GMT

have an aversion to

people

blogging

about me

aye aye kaptain!

Mon, 14 Aug 2006 17:17:28 GMT

i will do that literature essay outline and then go grab some good chow in my dreams.

the reality of being cool

Wed, 09 Aug 2006 05:43:40 GMT

is relativity at its fullest form.

honk if you're flawed

Tue, 08 Aug 2006 19:58:11 GMT

From sexual frustration?

l'enfant

Tue, 01 Aug 2006 07:28:53 GMT

confession - no other way of redemption.

the great evolution!

Thu, 27 Jul 2006 10:22:24 GMT

klingon
n. technical
any member of a mythical race in the Star Trek television series and movies, which are humanoid in appearance but have redundant organs and much hair; also, the language of the Klingons

No entry found for komes.

indulge.

aye but a captain of the puddles of mudd!

Thu, 27 Jul 2006 10:11:53 GMT

there is much i want to say, but thy tongue is tied with words a commoner begets befuddlement.