X-Japan: Tears

Unconscious exigent desires that play out repeatedly in my amnesia, along with trapped memories that blurs into misunderstanding. Layers of thoughts entangled on the strings of my existence, silencing their symphonies that carry whispered promises to my weary ears. I am overwhelmed with anxiety and loss, even as I brace myself for a painful descent and an unsurpassed flight of ecstasy. Is that what it really means? When illumination is lacking, maybe that is the only way of understanding the darkness. Self-definition is a subjective intepretation. Without a muse, without a single dream that burned without end, it all disappears, even as ambition turns into obsession.

Not everything I asked for was good for me. It may be mine one day, yet it will be taken away from me in the end. Why even pine for it, since it fades like sand between your fingers, no matter how beautiful it is? Ideals are made of perfection, but they never live long enough to enjoy an imperfect reality. An old palace clown, a lonely scribe who writes with broken brushes and pens feels the rhytmn of change arrive on his doorstep.


"He left her when they were only 14. He cried her name in his heart, as the guards dragged him into their cage along with the other boys. They were to be taken into the capital, to serve as eunuchs to the Emperor...when he came back for her, he found her grave on a lonely hill with dead, leafless trees in summer. She married a butcher, who killed her in his drunken fury....

Expulsion from the maiden's chamber...he was not castrated after all, for he had become a learned politician, an imperial spy, while they thought he was a guiless eunuch for their amusement. He loved a princess, but he never told her, for she was bethrothed to a prince. On her 21st birthday, she was taken ill, and he knelt outside the gates till the day she breathed her last.

It seemed his hair had turned white upon her passing. He neither ate nor slept, even as he tried to fight the tears that flowed down his cheeks. It made his world brighter, like solar reflections upon the river, where rainbows are born. He had been blind for a very long time...until now.."-Imperial Mysteries 皇史神话 (2005 BC)

It is time to lose focus

Sweet freedom, and a life to make an old man feel young again. Dance rehearsals, mascot shows, hosting events, gaming with mythical creatures and writing thoughts that I soujourn in this existence. Every minute of every passion gets further and faster, even as the world slows down before my very eyes.

Strange how something we planned for and talked about for a long time can just collapse overnight. If it was me years ago I would have jumped up the wall. Petty issues blown disgustingly out of proportion, last minute cock-ups that are simply too much of a coincidence, it all made me feel sleepy and strangely bored.

Instead, a trip down to the Vatican exhibition with LP held far more meaning than all those late night hangouts of prata and teh-tarik bingeing. Sure it was early in the day, and I had to force my semi-conscious state of mind out into the real world to observe the intricacies of my faith. Still, just being there, catching a glimpse of the fragments that brought men closer to God, the stories that shaped a culture for more than two thousand years, and the expressions and epigrams embedded in the art and graven stone, it just made me realise how little I knew, and how far away from the truth I really was.

With JB out of the picture, I joined the shrinking gang for a speed-flick experience of a motion picture. Judging solely on action and charisma, Initial D was definitely an exemplary 'ah-beng & speed demon' chimera, especially with beancurd boy Jay Chou burning rubber with his dad's modified delivery car. At the end of the show, the director feeds the audience a deadly blow of chauvinistic innuendoes- Jay finds out his sweetie-pie girlfriend is a prostitute,and gives her up for the life of a street racer.

On that note, I guess its about time I said goodbye to my shy bitch. Passion is always more intense than romance, ain't it?

心中日月

Night and day, within the heart. Constructing a new Madonna, in manifestation of displacement. A new muse...and a new dream, or am I still able to prolong the wait?

Exams, psychology and a princess, it hardly accounts for fantasy or any of those foolish ambitions I zealously guard and advocate. I am not dying, and I dread kidneys in suspense, like I am waiting for some hot blob of lipids to fall on me from the sky. The anticpation trails me like a shadow, but I can't tell it to go away

Tell me time has moved away
that my eyes have darkened to gray

Tell me of a love that lasts
that it is an illusion of the past

Tell me to turn back memories
let them bleed for none to see

Tell me to wait beyond a lifetime
let this be yours a whispered rhyme

When you never stop thinking, does she become part of you?

Bears, boobs and the best of bengs

I dread the city on weekends, but for the sake of keeps, I drag my weary body down to paragon every saturday morning. The pay is low, but the job is fun. You wear fake fur, suffer blistering internal environments of 40 degrees and above, and play with kids and TNA. You know women, they love cute cuddly life-size bears. Unfortunately, taking pictures and having their bodies close to you while tasting your own sweat really isn't much of a turn on for you as it is for them.

It's this term secure attachment, where infants who are condiitoned to sleep alone rely on inanimate objects like plush toys to give them physical comfort when they sleep at night. Most women never grow out of it, and since someone like me in that suit lack the organs to take advantage of them, that makes me totally innocent, lovable and non-threatening. My name was Cherry, and I am such a darling, ain't I?

Break time...and my body walks on virtual dehydration, so my partner and I take a trip down to the basement, to rinse our veins and arteries. I kinda felt we stank, so logically no one wold approach smelly boys, but things took a strange peculiar turn as we stepped in for convenience.

"Excuse me, would you like to try the new product from pokka? It is pure lemon juice..."

I sighed when I saw her. This is mediacorp material, why is she being a promoter at 7-11? The peanuts they pay are smaller than the melon seeds we mascots earn monthly. I drank her sample out of symapthy and out of sheer thirst. I commented it was sour, but I wouldn't mind getting a cold bottle, which she excitedly rushed to the refrigerator to get for me. Maybe she was barely 18, too young to know the road that lay ahead of her. She could be residing in a humble 3-room apartment within the suburbs, with mahjong parents who don't earn enough to give her gucci and prada. She could be a polytechnic student who got cheated into the job because the lecher boss thought she was real cute, and maybe she even has a young n dangerous ekin cheng wannabe for a beau, waiting for her in his sports bike after work.

Aarggh...if I was the owner of some talent agency, I will not hesitate. Sadly, I am only an asexual bear.

I remembered Groove coverage. Yup, eurodance, the blood that burned my veins when I was an ah beng, when only now and nothing else mattered. When you danced like there was no tomorrow, and everything, love and lies was just a blur you longed to embrace. I stepped into gramaphone and I stopped to marvel at an aberration at customer attendance.

Why were all the customers men? No one was buying anything, the only girl at the cash counter was busy sorting out CDs and more CDs. It crossed my mind briefly, before I heard the Groove coverage in my head once more. Psychology exam was still a week away, but I needed a techno transfusion to draw my memory out from a coma. Thus, I wasted no time in asking the cashier girl about the album's whereabouts.

"Excuse me...do you have Groove coverage greatest hits?"

She stood up to face the both of us. My malay abang and me. He opened his mouth, and it never closed. The whole shop stared like the frozen sands of time. I frowned and I smiled at her, wondering if I was an innocent bystander caught in a channel 8 variety show.

"Hold on, I will check it for you," she smiled and went to the shelves, with close to a hundred pairs of eyes tailing her. I heard the question, a man's question, behind me.

"Apa siah....fiona xie?"

For the benefit of local idiots and intellectual foreigners, Fiona is a local actress who is the same age as me. She broke into the entertainment scene the same time I ran 10km round south London towns every evening. It seems...or that's what the papers say, that she was voted FHM's sexiest woman this year. FHM, a classic SG reference book for males, it makes one horney but makes the brain empty. Sexually speakin, Fiona's the grandprize in the weekend lottery.

So it all fitted together, Singaporean men are still very much virile. Wonder how much the store pays her, even her boobs look like Fiona's too.

Boss....can I have Jeanette Aw in our own store please? I won't mind working 12 hours a day.

What dreams are made of


Watched the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy this afternoon. It's a total dork's movie with random slapstick puns. Two mice are in search of the ultimate question to the answer of 42, a number given to them by a massive thinking computer who watches nickelodeon cartoons. They get a clueless Arthut Dent to throw light on the only tangible reality, the discovery of the one true thing, and the regret of letting go, when it was going to be the most beautiful thing that happened to you.

Point is...intelligent mice will never get it, so much for experimental bewhavioral science.

I feel strange in this odd disenchantment, nothing matters more than what lies ahead. So many things...pushed aside, even the notion of romance can't seem to drag me. I wonder if losing my ambition on the tips of the scale would mean anything other than pain.I can only pray all disappointment will be taken away.

Da new bunch in school, I never knew things could be that cool. It feels good being a Jedi Master, rather than a manic jester. Ladies N Gents, knowin you peeps has been a blast. May the force be with all of you, for many good years to come

Peace, Out