. I'm
. :D.
Sick.
Friday, December 21, 2007 6:41 PM /
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Dammit...I feel so sick ah...running nose, splitting headache....I feel like I having fever...only without the fever...shit...need rest ah...tomorrow need to go out for concert...too lazy to go...7 p.m somemore...crap much...nevermind...should rest more...Lucky Delly go London and Paris....so shiok man...I don't feel like writing a proper post today...end...
The running man...
Friday, December 14, 2007 12:50 PM /
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THE SILKWORMS
All their lives in a box! What generations,
What centuries of masters, not meaning to be cruel
But needing their labour, taught these creatures such patience
That now though sunlight strikes in the eye's dark jewel
Or moonlight breathes on the wing they do not stir
But like the ghosts of moths crouch silent there.
Look it's a child's toy! There is no lid even,
They can climb, they can fly, and the whole world's their tree,
But hush, they say in themselves, we are in prison.
There is no word to tell them that they are free,
And they are not; ancestral voices bind them
In dream too deep for wind or word to find them.
Even in the young, each like a little dragon
Ramping and green upon his mulberry leaf,
So full of life, it seems, the voice has spoken:
They hide where there is food, where they are safe,
And the voice whispers, "Spin the cocoon,
Sleep, sleep, you shall be wrapped in me soon."
Now is their hour, when they wake from that long swoon;
Their pale curved wings are marked in a pattern of leaves,
Shadowy for trees,white for the dance of the moon;
And when on summer nights the buddleia gives
Its nectar like lilac wine for insects mating
They drink its fragrance and shiver, impatient with waiting,
They stir, they think they will go. Then they remember
It was forbidden, forbidden, ever to go out;
The Hands are on guard outside like claps of thunder,
The ancestral voice says Don't , and they do not.
Still the night calls the to unimaginable bliss
But there is terror around them, the vast, the abyss,
And here is the that they know, in their known place,
They are gentle and kind together, they are safe forever,
And all shall be answered at last when they embrace.
White moth moves closer to moth, lover to lover.
There is that pang of joy on the edge of dying -
Their soft wings whirr, they dream that they are flying.
Douglas Stewart
WOOHHOOO!
Thursday, December 06, 2007 2:00 AM /
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YAY!...I got a new PSP...slim and lite...ceramic white...cost me 20 bucks more...excited much...wahahahaha...ecstatic man!...okay end...
Binge.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007 12:53 AM /
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Woohhooo....I've finally found the lyrics for the song that has been stuck in my head the whole day...and I typed the lyrics on Google and every lyric search website...and I couldn't find it...until now...I randomly typed the lyrics...and voila I found the lyrics on Yahoo answers...Ok so you guys must be wondering why I typed binge up there...well because I have been binging on food these past few days...It started on my sister's birthday, and then at my nenek's(grandmother's) house...eating sardines, cakes, durians, bubur durian, desserts, lollipops, chocolate, chilli crabs...well you
get the picture...I've had this craving for sardines and their edible bones eversince I went to the supermarket to buy groceries with my nenek and cousins...and then when we brought it home I looked at the tin can with this crave for its fish with the slightly crunchy edible bones in it...and I told my nenek that I wanted to eat it...and she told me that she would cook it for me the next day...excited I was...I'm lazy to elaborate on the other things my nenek cooked...because it's 1.21 am...thus ends my blogpost...after a short hiatus of 9 days...it ends....HERE