I'll see if I last 5 entries
I know what you all are thinking. I'm gonna quit after 5 entries. This time it's different, I swear. I'll show you. :)
Sitting in bed on a Wednesday afternoon, I'm wondering. Recess week is just too damn short. About 2 weeks ago I watched one of the most meaningful films I'd ever seen. I'm a big time movie junkie, anyone who knew me would agree. But this, wow, it really blew me away. Cheesy as it is, I'm a sucker for any movie advertised with these words: "Based on a true story."
Freedom Writers was a movie I'd heard about many times before. But I didn't believe all the hype until I saw it. The kids, they were so rugged, so out of there, so disconnected from the world. Each of them had battlescars of their own, a story, a background. Their stories were endearing and heartfelt, there was no pretense in there. None. In an increasingly superficial world, they stood out like sore thumbs. But their amazing stories inspired me to grab the book, The Freedom Writers' Diary. And I'm sitting here in my comfy bed on a Tuesday afternoon, inspired by their words, so honest they might as well've been written in their own blood. These kids inspired me to write again. Afterall, what's a story without heart?
In other news, I got back at 4:30AM yesterday. It's crazy, but I had a smackin' good time. To me, it's the best kind of nightlife you can ever get - nightlife on a bike. Yep, you heard me right. Clubbing, pubbing, prata or whatever else you can find when prowling Singapore's non-existent night-life - save it. Cause nothing beats the charm of the cool night breeze whipping relentlessly in your face, the glow of moonlight (ok, with a bit of help from street lamps) dancing on your cheeks, illuminating the world around you in a completely different light. A charming side of our little isle you'll never see in the day. Ever. Last night, I rode 30 odd kilometers on a rickety rented bike, feeling each bump beneath the tyres worn by dirt roads, the sound of crisp leaves, like wind beneath my wings. I went to the most amazing places. Little nooks and crannies of our island obscured and sadly overlooked by the lack of an MRT station within its 5KM radius. Undiscovered territory. The adrenaline rush of the midnight cab speeding nary 5 inches of you, drunken revelers in its seats. Its a high alcohol can never give. Pedaling my heart out to get up that darn slope then... just, letting go. A free fall down Henderson Rd. Moonlight caressing my cheek. Bathing in the pre-dawn breeze. Shouts of "Keep left!" as we gradually sieve out onto the roads, the entire stretch empty as an airport runway. Cruising... and then dawn breaks. Speeding ahead. And when we finally arrive, the moon is slowly retreating and the stars fade as we lie, arms widespread on the field, heaving from the lethargy and finding time to take breaths between our laughter.
Oh, and it isn't counted if you don't break a sweat.
Sitting in bed on a Wednesday afternoon, I'm wondering. Recess week is just too damn short. About 2 weeks ago I watched one of the most meaningful films I'd ever seen. I'm a big time movie junkie, anyone who knew me would agree. But this, wow, it really blew me away. Cheesy as it is, I'm a sucker for any movie advertised with these words: "Based on a true story."
Freedom Writers was a movie I'd heard about many times before. But I didn't believe all the hype until I saw it. The kids, they were so rugged, so out of there, so disconnected from the world. Each of them had battlescars of their own, a story, a background. Their stories were endearing and heartfelt, there was no pretense in there. None. In an increasingly superficial world, they stood out like sore thumbs. But their amazing stories inspired me to grab the book, The Freedom Writers' Diary. And I'm sitting here in my comfy bed on a Tuesday afternoon, inspired by their words, so honest they might as well've been written in their own blood. These kids inspired me to write again. Afterall, what's a story without heart?
In other news, I got back at 4:30AM yesterday. It's crazy, but I had a smackin' good time. To me, it's the best kind of nightlife you can ever get - nightlife on a bike. Yep, you heard me right. Clubbing, pubbing, prata or whatever else you can find when prowling Singapore's non-existent night-life - save it. Cause nothing beats the charm of the cool night breeze whipping relentlessly in your face, the glow of moonlight (ok, with a bit of help from street lamps) dancing on your cheeks, illuminating the world around you in a completely different light. A charming side of our little isle you'll never see in the day. Ever. Last night, I rode 30 odd kilometers on a rickety rented bike, feeling each bump beneath the tyres worn by dirt roads, the sound of crisp leaves, like wind beneath my wings. I went to the most amazing places. Little nooks and crannies of our island obscured and sadly overlooked by the lack of an MRT station within its 5KM radius. Undiscovered territory. The adrenaline rush of the midnight cab speeding nary 5 inches of you, drunken revelers in its seats. Its a high alcohol can never give. Pedaling my heart out to get up that darn slope then... just, letting go. A free fall down Henderson Rd. Moonlight caressing my cheek. Bathing in the pre-dawn breeze. Shouts of "Keep left!" as we gradually sieve out onto the roads, the entire stretch empty as an airport runway. Cruising... and then dawn breaks. Speeding ahead. And when we finally arrive, the moon is slowly retreating and the stars fade as we lie, arms widespread on the field, heaving from the lethargy and finding time to take breaths between our laughter.
Oh, and it isn't counted if you don't break a sweat.