I should probably not be awake now.
love I get so lost, sometimes
days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
when I want to run away
I drive off in my car
but whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are
all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
the heat I see in your eyes
love, I don't like to see so much pain
so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive
and all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light,
the heat I see in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes
I told my two chairs 2010 to "keep your hopes high and your expectations low"; SS PT is half done, minus editing. I spent nearly an hour alone at Macs nursing a medium Coke planning it, the noise of the crowd this fuzz around me, and then I spent two hours reading happiness economics at the Business section of the Reference Library. Then I took the lift down, and staring out into the distance gave me a rollercoaster rush that made me deliriously happy for a few minutes. After that, the high faded.
UWC talk was a no-go; the National Committee didn't turn up, even though the security guard said the room was booked for 2 pm. On the MRT from Outram Park, I was staring out the window looking at the overcast sky, and somehow did not translate that into imminent rain. It started pouring heavily the moment I got off at the bus stop opposite UWC, and I walked about 500 m into the side road without even knowing if it was the right direction; I got drenched. Then I met Yi Hong and her father there, and we waited for a while before we left, and her dad dropped me off at Bugis. Her dad runs marathons; their conversation in the car was very endearing. Oddly enough I'm not furious about the wasted trip; I'm not entirely sure why not, but it's a kind of resigned, life-will-screw-with-you, keep-your-expectations-low mentality THAT I AM STUCK WITH WTH.
I was reading a book in the CLL today about troubled white middle class children and there were a series of interviews and all the teenagers just said that they couldn't care. They just didn't care enough not to do drugs, not to steal and have casual sex, and it sounds trite and all, drugs sex and rock and roll but it was really bad, the things they spoke about doing, and it wasn't even that they didn't know the consequences, or wanted to stop but couldn't, or were pressurized - for some inexplicable reason, at some undefinable point in time, they just stopped caring enough. One girl said nothing really mattered; she didn't even care if she died the next day, or if the police caught her on her robbery sprees and drug trips - they would mix alcohol and drug cocktails and get high and then steal cars and race down highways with police cars tailing them, and it's like, so screwed up.
Fanfiction is a ritual, I inferred from The Happiness Myth, it's a celebration of tragedy and life and myths and cultural trances, and I need to shut up and go to sleep now.
days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
when I want to run away
I drive off in my car
but whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are
all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
the heat I see in your eyes
love, I don't like to see so much pain
so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive
and all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light,
the heat I see in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes
I told my two chairs 2010 to "keep your hopes high and your expectations low"; SS PT is half done, minus editing. I spent nearly an hour alone at Macs nursing a medium Coke planning it, the noise of the crowd this fuzz around me, and then I spent two hours reading happiness economics at the Business section of the Reference Library. Then I took the lift down, and staring out into the distance gave me a rollercoaster rush that made me deliriously happy for a few minutes. After that, the high faded.
UWC talk was a no-go; the National Committee didn't turn up, even though the security guard said the room was booked for 2 pm. On the MRT from Outram Park, I was staring out the window looking at the overcast sky, and somehow did not translate that into imminent rain. It started pouring heavily the moment I got off at the bus stop opposite UWC, and I walked about 500 m into the side road without even knowing if it was the right direction; I got drenched. Then I met Yi Hong and her father there, and we waited for a while before we left, and her dad dropped me off at Bugis. Her dad runs marathons; their conversation in the car was very endearing. Oddly enough I'm not furious about the wasted trip; I'm not entirely sure why not, but it's a kind of resigned, life-will-screw-with-you, keep-your-expectations-low mentality THAT I AM STUCK WITH WTH.
I was reading a book in the CLL today about troubled white middle class children and there were a series of interviews and all the teenagers just said that they couldn't care. They just didn't care enough not to do drugs, not to steal and have casual sex, and it sounds trite and all, drugs sex and rock and roll but it was really bad, the things they spoke about doing, and it wasn't even that they didn't know the consequences, or wanted to stop but couldn't, or were pressurized - for some inexplicable reason, at some undefinable point in time, they just stopped caring enough. One girl said nothing really mattered; she didn't even care if she died the next day, or if the police caught her on her robbery sprees and drug trips - they would mix alcohol and drug cocktails and get high and then steal cars and race down highways with police cars tailing them, and it's like, so screwed up.
Fanfiction is a ritual, I inferred from The Happiness Myth, it's a celebration of tragedy and life and myths and cultural trances, and I need to shut up and go to sleep now.