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May. 7th, 2009


i was on your porch the smoke sank into my skin

this song was played a lot during the a levels last year, when i was studying with mo and the rest of 6L. today, while sitting in Uris, 'stealing' a room just reminded me of that; this time last year, i was so eager for it to be over -- to stop going for tuition from 7-10 and writing the transmission mechanism for the hundredth time, to stop memorizing the nucleophilic addition and subsituition and to stop having to memorize the difference between a Z Test and T Test -- that I didn't stop to think that I would possibly miss it, eventually when we are in different schools and see so little of each other.

I am starting to love how there songs associated with different times of the year; i played a lot of a fine frenzy when i was in europe, when i was home during the winter, paolo nutini's autumn leaves was first on my playlist. There was a time when I felt that i couldnt listen to anything without thinking of you.

I probably posted the song before so i shall post something else.

This song is rather incongrous with the rest of the post but it was one of the first albums I got in JC 2. (:

How to be Dead by Snow Patrol

Please don't go crazy, if I tell you the truth
No you don't know what happened
And you never will if
You don't listen to me while I talk to the wall
This blanket is freezing, it's been out in the hall
Where you've had me for hours
Till I'm sure what I want
But darling I want the same thing that I wanted before
So sweetheart tell me what's up I won't stop no way

Please keep your hands down
And stop raising your voice
It's hardly what I'd be doing if you gave me a choice
It's a simple suggestion can you give me sometime
So just say yes or no
Why can't you shoulder the blame
Coz both my shoulders are heavy
From the weight of us both
You're a big boy now so let's not talk about growth
You've not heard a single word I have said...
Oh, my God

Please take it easy it can't all be my fault
I haven't made half the mistakes
That you've listed so far
Oh baby let me explain something
It's all down to drugs
At least I remember taking the and not a lot else
It seems I've stepped over lines
You've drawn again and again
But if the ecstacy's in the wit is definitely out
Dr. Jekyll is wrestling Hyde for my pride

Feb. 8th, 2009


grace me with your cold shoulder


I wake up in your bed, I know I have been dreaming
Much earlier, the alarm clock broke us from each other,
you've been at your desk for hours, I know what I dreamed;
our friend the poet comes into my room
where I have been writing for days,
drafts, carbons, poems are scattered everywhere,
and I want to show her one poem
which is the poem of my life. But I hesitate,
and wake. You've kissed my hair
to wake me. I dreamed you were a poem,
I say, a poem I wanted to show someone....
and I laugh and fall dreaming again
of the desire to show you to everyone I love,
to move openly together
in the pull of gravity, which is not simple,
which carries the featherbed grass a long way down the upbreathing

-Adrienne Rich

If this is not love, I don't think I can handle the real thing.

Dec. 31st, 2008


Draft #2008

Draft #2008

They asked me, is this year worse than the last?

I asked, for whom?

Wanted to show them something. While I sketched it out on the
chalkboard, they stopped listening. I turned back to face the vacuous

Maybe I couldn't write fast enough. Maybe it was far too soon.

Parodied from Adrienne Rich

Hands of Time

363: No Longer a Teenager
"No Longer a Teenager"
Gerald Locklin

my daughter, who turns twenty tomorrow,
has become truly independent.
she doesn't need her father to help her
deal with the bureaucracies of school,
hmo's, insurance, the dmv.
she is quite capable of handling
landlords, bosses, and auto repair shops.
also boyfriends and roommates.
and her mother.

frankly it's been a big relief.
the teenage years were often stressful.
sometimes, though, i feel a little useless.

but when she drove down from northern California
to visit us for a couple of days,
she came through the door with the biggest, warmest hug in the world for me.
and when we all went out for lunch,
she said, affecting a little girl's voice,
"i'm going to sit next to my daddy,"
and she did, and slid over close to me
so i could put my arm around her shoulder
until the food arrived

i've been keeping busy since she's been gone,
mainly with my teaching and writing,
a little travel connected with both,
but i realized now how long it had been
since i had felt deep emotion.

when she left i said, simply,
"i love you,"
and she replied, quietly,
"i love you too."
you know it isn't always easy for
a twenty-year-old to say that;
it isn't always easy for a father.

literature and opera are full of
characters who die for love:
i stay alive for her.


351: Beauty and the Beast: An Anniversary
"Beauty and the Beast: An Anniversary"
Jane Yolen

It is winter now,
and the roses are blooming again,
their petals bright against the snow.
My father died last April;
my sisters no longer write,
except at the turning of the year,
content with their fine houses
and their grandchildren.
Beast and I
putter in the gardens
and walk slowly on the forest paths.
He is graying around the muzzle
and I have silver combs
to match my hair.
I have no regrets.
Though sometimes I do wonder
what sounds children
might have made
running across the marble halls,
swinging from the birches
over the roses
in the snow.


344: Valentine

Carol Ann Duffy

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.

It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or kissogram.

I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.

Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding ring,
if you like.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.

Ripped from exceptindreams

Dec. 6th, 2008


Hello, Apathy

For more than a million sunrises, the Egyptian sphinx has guarded the Pharaohs' mysteries with implacable calm. Nothing has shattered its unblinking meditation; a cannonball fired by Napoleon's army only broke its nose.

Recently two limestone chunks weighing about 700 pounds between them fell from the sphinx's shoulder. The damage has prompted international accusations of neglect. Concern focuses on the power of wind, water and pollution to erode the sphinx's leonine body, which was excavated in the last century and left fully exposed to the elements.

But why reach for such mundane explanations when the real one is so obvious: After staring at human folly for four and a half millennia, the sphinx simply shrugged.

Ripped from the NYT

Nov. 20th, 2008


they say california is a recipe for a black hole and i've got my best shoes on i'm ready to go

"Try to keep things in perspective. Fifty years from now, kids in history classes will be yawning over what panics us today." - unknown

i didnt come here to get As on everything, i came here to learn, to be a better person. I didn't come here to prove that I can get into an ivy league instituition, i came here to learn from the best. I didnt pay fees of 50000 a year so that i can have a pretty transcript from a top school, i paid the fees to have a chance to be better. its so easy to forget that and take the easy way out, take the easier class and not understanding everything i learn. As truman said, one of the best epitaphs to have is "here lies joh williams, he lived his damnest". Here i am in the best place possible, its time to love my damnest. Go for class even when you are late, try a class even when it seems difficult, you came here to be challenged.

"You have to remember to make it all over again every day, the angel said to me. Otherwise it all goes to hell."

"He carried a ladder almost everywhere he went, and after awhile people left all the high places to him."

"They came to sit and dangle their feet off the edge of the world and after awhile they forgot everything but the good and true things they would do someday."

Ripped from Story People.


Oct. 17th, 2008


October and Walls

 I have been here for almost two months and two more months to go. Some days are better than others and I can't help but wonder if this is the right choice; especially when I keep telling myself that I would be like the old me tomorrow, the important thing now is to adapt. I haven't spoken to so many people. I love what I am learning but sometimes thats just not good enough.

I spend my days pushing the walls away, but when I sleep, they creep back in.

Some days, I just feel that I don't deserve to be here.

Some days, its Rock N Roll.

Please let that be today.

Jul. 30th, 2008


(no subject)

There is an expiry date on blaming your parents for steering you in the wrong direction; the moment you are old enough to take the wheel, responsibility lies with you. 

Poverty entails fear, and stress, and sometimes depression; it means a thousand petty humiliations and hardships. Climbing out of poverty by your own efforts, that is indeed something on which to pride yourself, but poverty itself is romanticised only by fools. 

What I feared most for myself at your age was not poverty, but failure.

Ultimately, we all have to decide for ourselves what constitutes failure, but the world is quite eager to give you a set of criteria if you let it.

So why do I talk about the benefits of failure? Simply because failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had already been realised, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.

Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared.

JKR's Speech at Harvard 2008

May. 30th, 2008


Under the Blacklight

211: Antilamentation
Dorianne Laux

Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook.
Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication.
Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don't regret those.
Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.
You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.
You've walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs
window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied
of expectation. Relax. Don't bother remembering
any of it. Let's stop here, under the lit sign
on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.

May. 21st, 2008



I  didn't set any goals because everything seemed so undecided at the start of the year. 
What if I get into both NUS Law and US schools? 

Will it be worth it?

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in the wood, and I-
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost.

You make it different.
You make it worthwhile.


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