annals of a civillian

me being the chivalric gentleman that i am
i allowed an entire 80 minutes to pass
but in the end i still won
ordering at 1321
and being served 1323
i totally won
hahahahaha

i mean sure the guy serving me doesnt deserve to be called a barista
smiling while serving people is obviously not part of his skill set
and he over frothed the milk which resulted in a rather foamy latte
mmm

oh wells
these minor setbacks still do not spoil the sweet taste of victory

score one for my new found career as a civillian
oh wells
on with the rest of my life

and angels fall from the sky

you've lost your wings and your grace, all you're left is a pretty face

those who know what im talking abt probably wont read my blog
which is good

why did you give so much
how could you lose so much just to fit

i dont regret it,
but i dont think id want to go thru it again
hopefully im not compelled to

you let them take your innocence
you let them take your glow


it wasnt exactly discomforting
and i can totally see why others are into it
you can lose yourself in the midst of it, the sensuality, the surreality
become a new person, whatever you desire to mould yourself into
well within limitations
but its just not my thing

let them rape the things that set you apart

to me it kind of felt like an epileptic fit gone rabid
part of me wished i could foam at the mouth at will

and yet your eyes still twinkle

mmm
the company was not bad though
seeing familiar faces in an unfamiliar environment
its interesting to observe how friends change, and grow
or in some cases fall so far from what we assumed

or have your eyes always twinkled
even when your smile goes hollow

something went really cold inside
when i glimpsed into your new world

while u become the painted mask others forced on you
and your eyes go on twinkling forever
like the last light from a dying star

wad happened to you
you still smile nowadays
but seeing it just makes me mourn for you

y am i so coldly and rationally walking away from all i "believe" and "treasure"?
y arent i hurting inside?
y dun i feel a thing

apathy is a disease

but my secret lies hidden within me,
no one shall discover my name!

those are the translation of one of the most famous lines from the aria nessun dorma
arguably pucinni's best aria

had an interesting talk with lian ytd over coffee late at night
i brought up the point how morality is not mathematically sound on the surface
that when u add up the factors arithmatically it doesnt match
he came to the point that often our morality is dependant on remoteness
how whether "necessary evil"
is good or bad dependant on how remote we are from the act
we talked then about lots of the controvesies regarding the christian faith
alot of the harder to swallow paradoxes

but yeah
im how am i?
i think ive kinda become detached from everythings thats going on
i just feel so far away from it all

so detached from faith
so detached from sin
it helps when im with other ppl
but even then
i just feel so far away

sometimes i just feel like breaking out of my skin
breaking free from all that constraints
i mean
yeah
maybe its bcos im fat or wad
but its not merely physical
i just wish i could transcend all the limitations
all the lethargy,
lack of talent
circumstances
and do something actually worth doing

they were all wrong
it wasnt our secular nature nor rcc which held us down
the bible was right in one way
our living is the thing which ties us up
we need to die first before we gain the freedom to live

i feel like breaking something

get me out of this
im suffocating

time is fiction by edison glass

And I'll say to you
I want so much more right now
So you taught me to listen
And I can feel the change
Hear the whisper of the summer leaves
To the rhythm of your heartbeat

I stay up late, look at the pages
Where rhythms are made by the scratch of a pen
Watching you leave, I look at your movements
A beauty that sings from the song in your heart

I can hear it
You told me I can be a plug
All I have to do is believe
And I all I need to do is breathe
So I can feel you

I stay up late, look at the pages
Where rhythms are made by the scratch of a pen
Watching you leave, I look at your movements
A beauty that sings from the song in your heart

Time is fiction.

would You define me