red and yellow and pink and green;

purple and orange and blue.

some songs just stand out more than others. i dont like songs just because they are nice. i like a song because it makes me binge on memories. not romantic memories or sentimental memories; just memories. like, soledad by westlife gets me picturing myself n bro in dad's car making a u-turn to dunearn road, getting ready for tkd lesson at raffles town club.

or lately- i swear by all 4 one is stuck in my head cuz whenever i hear it, im sitting with my sis again in front of the old fan, holding a small card with the lyrics on it (belonged to our maid at tt time), singing into the fan... fascinated by the whirring effect of the fan on our voices.

or Disney's Song of the South - otherwise known as zip-a-dee-doo-dah. leaves me stoning for minutes reminiscing Brer Rabbit, Brer Fox, and the Zip-A-Dee-Lady of DL's Splash Mountain. god... the more i think of that place..... i think if i ever went back there i'd be so happy my face would change, my clothes would get too big for me, and i'd be me the last time i was there... small, heckish, and running all about.

bro, me, and cous. :)

just feeling dreamy again cuz im listening to songs.

oh yeah and
HAPPY (belated)BIRTHDAY JEMA!
haha today only then wish u cuz only today then i blog... got decode it anot hahaha

went to mind cafe with t4. damn long nv go there alr... anw it was still fun like some hor fun... then Mloclam joined us for dinner hahahaha made the dinner so much more funny... what with all the suanning him...

till next time!

i saw a scene on the mrt today. minor but no less mindful.

as usual the mrt is sardine at peak hours. so a group of either lucky or kiasu ppl would be sitting, the rest of the 80% of the commuters standing. since i wasn't wrinkled enough and didn't board from jurong east or boon lay, i was standing. somewhere along the way, an old couple suddenly appeared among the standers. then this happened in one go -

a young lady gave up her seat to the old man. the man sat down, only to stand up after a moment to let his wife sit. the old lady sat, only to get up after a moment to let an older woman (more wrinkled n droopy look) sit. then a lady down the row, seeing the friendly exchanges decided to be friendly too and got up to let the old man (who was nearer to her) sit. the old man motioned to his wife to sit, and only after the wife had sat down did the person to the right stand up to let the old man sit.

in Singapore everyone knows it is right- no, correct- to offer your seat to someone who needs it more than you do. honestly when i give up my seat to an elder, a pregnant woman, or a mother with kids (yes i stereotype on purpose), what goes through me is not complete empathy but duty-boundliness (i dont know if theres such a word but u get my drift). ok u can blame it on the education system or whatever, i'm not delving into that.

Remember! Please offer your seats to someone who needs it more than you do! The sign isn't there for nothing! Read and take note please!

The Pesky Cluck

part of a series of numerous short stories from a book popular with girls, called These Crap Two Years (numerous authors - most of whom are operationally ready boys).
This especially goes out to anyone who wishes to read a twisted chapter from the same book, and esp to my bro. Unfortunately it has to be as outright plain and retarded as it is.

There was once a rooster named Cluck. At the start of the chicken year, Cluck was forcefully shoved into a coop/pen together with thousands others who obviously want to live the Chicken Run dream. The majority were laboured everyday, forced to lay eggs and other random shit that would tire their asses out. However, Cluck was missing an eyeball. Hence he was part of a splinter group where every chicken was either one giblet short, one eye blind, had a feather short or some other random problem. They call this group Pesky.

Because of their problems, the Peskies were only forced to lay one egg every day instead of 6. They weren't thin enough to dismiss exploitation for eggs; neither were they fat enough for the slaughterhouse. The farmers couldnt bother forcing them to lay another egg, so after they had lain an egg they would go back to their barn and await feeding time. So during their barntime, they slept, chewed on snacks like kept worms, played with the worms like pets, and utilized other random shit to entertain themselves.

All chickens, after 7 chicken weeks in that particular coop, undergo natural selection and evolve into dogs.

Finally, the Peskies were deported away to random places. Pesky Cluck was initially deported to a ghetto-style military security camp as a burglar-watchdog whose leash was to be superglued to his neck after orientation. However, before orienteering could complete, Cluck ran away and was caught and deported again, this time to a family household of farmers who kept about 6 other dogs.

There was a site in the household where their pet spider's web was. The household butler was called Adobe. Thus, Cluck was trained to maintain the web site and also to work with Adobe, along with other errands that the farmers wanted. Sometimes, Cluck had to stay overnight in the household guard's room, where the guard usually watches the TV and surfs Facebook.

But most importantly, Pesky Cluck had no leash nor muzzle.

Pesky Cluck often thinks about his mates in the majority at the coop. After 9 weeks, they evolve from dogs to horses. Many become magnificent Pegasuses and Unicorns, but from the stories Cluck listens to, most of them (especially when they are rounded by a Tiger) are bridled, straddled and often mistaken for camels or oxen.

On behalf of all Peskies.

i dont know if i mentioned this here before. but there's this mynah (literally the bird, not... something else.) i see every weekday at dover mrt, on the way to camp. and its a stupid bird. cuz its at the bottom of the mrt station building, then it crosses the road, up the curb, and hops up the stairs. like what's wrong with using his wings?! and it doesnt take the escalator when its just beside... really birdbrained. got the brain of a bird. either that or it's so intelligent that it's taunting the wingless humans sitting at the bus stop. basket.

Balls of Fury was nice, funny on the whole, esp the anticlimax parts... the rest was just filler humour. thats what i think la. im still waiting for another big comedy that'll shake me more than White Chicks or Bruce almighty.

Ali G -
FBI Interview

hahaha

and i read the Alchemist again... what am i doing, i havent even started on Hallows! but anyhow, that book again left me with inspiration, thought, answers, imagination... and sadly I realized I've forgotten my Personal Legend.

"When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."