movement.

oh, eh for no clear reasons, other than a cool looking skin, i am shifting to my livejournal one for the time being.

i'll be back, i think. meanwhile, i'm there. :)

eric

jump-started.

***

(edited 18/2/06 after some thought and beer and cigarettes and %&*ing my guys at freaking 1.30am this freaking morning, while nursing the %&*ing thought that we have a %&*ing roadshow setup at 1am 19/2/06. %&*s.)


Jumpstart

I got jump-started.
You know the feeling. Waking,
choked from the only kind of sleep
you get on the long ride home.
The type that renders air-conditioning useless
because you wake drenched
regardless where you position the vent and
how empty the bus was.
The seat beside me was vacant,
still warm.
I swore I felt the full weight of
your head resting on my lap.
Heard you whisper softly
all the things I loved hearing
you utter,
over and over again.
I remembered running my fingers
through the entire length of your hair,
then pulling it so hard;
I actually made you cry.
I believe, that
was the exact moment
when I woke.

***

pre-valents.

as you can tell, i am back to the torment that is work. sigh. but every year, on a certain date, work serves to distract me from the larger torment that is, St Valentine's Day. haha. actually, i don't put too much weight on the event, however, my brain tends to be super good at remembering and re-vomiting details of my past on that day, so it is best that i get myself occupied.

naturally, with the b fiasco (i.e. me being banned from her life) still warm (eh, purely becoz i am stroking it in my head) despite the amount of time that has passed, this vday shall be pretty memorable.

and to add a little kick to it all, i just had a most pointless argument with joys. pointless becoz it was done over the net. through email (becoz i refuse to touch messenger), that it changes nothing, and pointless becoz the position of someone else in your own life can only be determined by yourself.

forgive the bitter talk. i get funny during this time.


gaston thinks it will be a day that we will use as resource for good poetry. maybe he might, but on my end, i highly doubt it. i have only ever written one vday poem and it's not even really about it.

here u go.

****

Games

Valentine’s Day and the park with no business
becomes perfect as
a last hiding space.
The neighbours’ children keen to take advantage,
are oblivious, and playing
at being grown-ups again.
Noisy buggers.
Still,
you can’t help but love them,
as they raced on bicycles
tracing circles around me,
and falling once in a while.
Of course they cry -
children are children after all -
but I loved how they picked
themselves up
so easily, and
so quick to laugh
at the adventure of falling.

***
listening to : sixpence none the richer: breathe
reading: some old guy rave about whores. cool book.

subtest.

if u noticed, i am on leave. haha. i.e. happiness setting in. soon to be disrupted by the madhouse events that will be saturday. but i'll take one day at a time.

so the day was spent between purchasing anime. (am big fan) and a soothing massage which in comparsion to what i had in bintan, was definitely way cheaper.

somewhere in the day, decided i would go to the subtext reading for the 1st time in my life. cy was slated to read.

reached there just on time, cy went up, did his thing, q and a, yak yak yak then next reader.

eric something.

mildly autistic guy who suddenly attained some form of enlightenment from watching some programme on the telly, deduced that he could write poetry and decided to print an indulgent 1st book with poetry that he had written within the space of 2 maybe 3 weeks.

man, give the genius a tiger.

hey, i know i'm supposed to be charitable, but poetry is poetry. and what is clearly not, is easily noticeable. i thought subtext would be more than poetry.com. what is the premise for letting the man read? yes, if he's autistic, he is a highly intelligent and very intriguing personality, capable of handling a highly interogative q and a session (which was very entertaining) but he cannot write poetry.

ok, i'll be nice. yet.

the next guy, another self-published, a impromptu thing, went up to read from his collection, (why are so many people turning to poetry like this?) and then this time, i have no excuse to feel guilty for thinking that the poetry was bad.

yes, prior to his reading, he said he didn't know the perimeters of poetry and just printed this. well thats not a f-ing excuse. go learn brother.

very bad. even yong shu hoong thought it was necessary to cut the pain short. hahah.

overall feeling? subtext rulez! haha. i like reading/hearing bad poetry once in a while, thats why i poetry-blog surf so much. (oops have been found out.)

oh, here's an example of what i find most "entertaining"

___
listeningto: sixpence none the richer.
reading: the but anthology.

_

taxi.

anyone who knows me know me as a fervent supporter of cabbies. i'm on a few every single day owing to ;

1. i dunno how to drive
2. my last attempt at trying nearly killed my friends
3. i am self imposed blind on most nights. (in the day, my directional sense is excellent.)
4. and if u do the maths of it, cabbing is cheaper than owning a car, and none of you people have anything close to my daily schedule. :p
5. last and most importantly, i live in sengkang. nuff said.

so i usually keep my peace when the uncles (aunties) start giving their "i eat salt more than u eat rice" philosophy, and that has worked out pretty ok. until last last week, on a friday i think, when i hailed this cab to go meet my friends for a steamboat dinner.

me: uncle, 7th storey hotel please.

uncle: ?

me: it's near beach road.

uncle: ok.

uncle: did u see the new year decor they put at marina? very nice hor?

me: bah, i don't bother about chinese new year. i always leave singapore during chinese new year.

uncle: you chinese right? you sure you chinese? chinese must celebrate chinese new year... blah blah blah (about chinese and chinese customs)

(aside, my family as in my dad's side, don't take too kindly to my sharp tongue. thats why i'm banned from visiting during cny. the last auntie to say: "wow eric, you getting fat ah?" got this reply "haha, auntie, you also not too bad yourself ah?")

me: (steaming) so uncle you have to turn right here.

uncle: here? where this place ah?

me: uncle, you sure you singaporean? you sure you not escape from malaysia or china? how come you dun know 7th storey? my father can bring me here blindfolded. wait, my mother also can.

uncle: i know 7th storey is hotel what. you come to stay here ah? (semi-steaming)

me: wahloa-ah! confirmed you escape from china or malaysia! let me tell you la, people come here eat their famous steamboat, hainanese steamboat ah, uncle, how you pass your taxi license? you cannot make it la. its ok, you can tell me what. let this younger generation guide you lah, wahloa-ah. shame la, taxi-driver dunno where 7th storey is...you must learn you know.. blah blah blah...

boy was he pissed. haha.