say;
if you were staring at the wrong end of a gun barrel, how would that feel?

An involuntary victim of someone's carelessness or quite simply a case of being at the wrong place, at the wrong time.
How would it feel to have a round wedged in your flesh?
Would you feel immense pain or numb relief?
Would God be merciful and spare us pain in our final minutes?
Would you feel your life slipping out of you in a thick, red, viscous fluid; pooling around you as if your body can't quite contain it anymore?
What emotions would you feel before your mind gave way to a blank abyss?
regret, relief or peace?

random thoughts at random moments.



The month draws to an end with no news whatsoever. What then? What now?
Panic attacks ail me, more so as the sands of time trickle through the hourglass;
Just the thought alone sends me gasping for breathe, heart aching and pounding;
i exagerate not.
Where i am; its a dark dark place...
encouragements do not reach; nor do any 'light' for that matter.
I have but a flicker of hope;
dwindling fast against the impending darkness.
please don't let it elude me. not a second time.

random song.


5 o'clock and a fire escape symphony
spillin' out across the road and the square
and the sky's the same as your own do you think of me
do the parks and trees and the leaves reach you there
after the rain in the lonely hours he haunts me
callin' out again and again

Sophia, Sophia
i'm burning, i'm burning
its a fire, a fire i cannot put out
Sophia, Sophia
i'm learning that some things i can't go without
and one of them is him

now i walk these streets like a stranger in my hometown
learn the language from the words when i speak
but he changed me; i'm his ghost since he came around
now i count the hours and the days in the weeks
passion and silence
every word, every line - a measure
its the science of the soul
and his books they breathe a reason
and now, i wanna know

Sophia, Sophia
i'm burning, i'm burning
it's a fire, a fire i cannot put out
Sophia, Sophia
i'm learning that some things i can't go without
and one of them is him...

All i wanted was your approbation.
All i needed was your approval.
is that really so hard?

its hard not to doubt sometimes.
not to be selfish and consider what i want.
not to contrive to run away when the means are met.
but worry not,
for the affliction battles itself out within the stronghold that is my mind.
pray; lest the stronghold weakens over time and test.


An ideal concoction of rain and warmth seem to have brewed itself at the gates if Istana.
A calling; for bugs to breed and cause a nuisance to us helpless, immobilised souls. Worms dangle down from tree foliages, hung precariously upon a thread, squirm and swing like a pendulum of sort.
A bite? A prick? I know not much to tell.
A night saw rashes appear in angry red blotches, chasing across my neck.
And for those whose initial expression held more concern than disgust, i thank thee;

Something someone said got me thinking - Am i pampered?
-if i regard SAF ration with disdain. Do i not eat it just the same?
-if i choose to go home given the absolute freedom to. Isn't everyone else, given the privelege, doing so?
-if i abhor bugs and shy away from them with horror. Is it a crime to be afraid of bugs?
I'm sure there are plenty more you could conjure up in your defence but if the above returns are all YES then i seriously urge you to reconsider your notion of what is pampered.
To view people with such condescend isn't very nice.
No. I'm sure i can't argue that point with you(as in all cases).

superfluous talks; i bore- as always.