amour amour

Monday, October 25, 2004

- 6:05 am

it is wet. everything outside is wet.
its a wet sunday.

sunday morning rain is falling

outside, puddles form on the road, branches weighed down by additional weight of so much water. occasionally, the branches shake in the wind, dumping all that water on importunate passer bys, who go on their way, wet and cold, as the water gathers on the branches again, and the cycle repeats itself. there is the loud rumbling noise of the only lambhorghini in the neighborhood, its carburetors pumping loudly, almost like a cat purring. a very big, sleek cat.

i put twenty or so pictures of fifi in my album. check it out by going to
-->the stars--->album

i am sad. for two weeks in a row now, it has rained, and left me bereft of my sunday physical exertion, left me without my three hours of soccer. my boots lie in some corner, studs worn out, waiting to be replaced.

i heard RI/RGS are doing that cancer play we did in sec 2. what was it called? johnathan winston seagull? no, it was the one with those gay songs. haha hulin and azizul and i changed the last lyrics and added two more goodbyes to the end for good effect. it was the play i walked out of, cos it was boring, and i dint want to be a lousy old mutant cell sharing a shirt with sharp nailed cheng chai. and hadri and matin werent in it. the raffles players belonged to us, and we played it however we wanted. its strange now not to be a part of the raffles players, although theres still the drama camp.

the rain reminds me of things. things id rather not remember anymore, but things unforgettable nevertheless. someone told me that its better to remember all the good times, and forget the bad, and yet another to forget everything. but i see you in my dreams and everywhere i go, like a vision, like a ghost you haunt me, although i know your not dead, but the you i once knew might as well be. we will never speak again, we will probably never even see each other again. maybe its for the best. probably not.

this is all i can write. blogger screwed up and destroyed my last entry. doesnt matter anyway, it was too personal.

i have started on two plays,
the rise of reason and suburban reality

i immerse myself in writing, to leave myself cold,
to keep you away,

but you're impossible to forget.

propheten der apokalypse

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propheten der apokalypse

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rackin' em up since before you were born
(january 2004)