Gimme a break

Got on board a westbound seven-forty-seven
Didn't think before deciding what to do
All that talk of opportunities, TV breaks and movies
Rang true, sure rang true

Seems it never rains in Southern California
Seems I've often heard that kind of talk before

It never rains in California but, girl, don't they warn ya
It pours, man, it pours

Out of work, I'm out of my head
Out of self-respect, I'm out of bread
I'm under loved, I'm underfed
I wanna go home

It never rains in California but, girl, don't they warn ya
It pours, man, it pours

Will you tell the folks back home I nearly made it
Had offers but don't know which one to take
Please, don't tell them how you found me
Don't tell them how you found me, gimme a break, gimme a break

Seems it never rains in Southern California
Seems I've often heard that kind of talk before
It never rains in California but, girl, don't they warn ya
It pours, man, it pours


Dang. I need a break man. I need to catch the North Bound Boeing triple seven. To home. To the red red wine and the green green grass of home.

Utter bullcrap

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?sk=lf#!/note.php?note_id=435703785332&id=838833331

This has recently came to circulate in facebook.
This is utter bullshit.

Its easy of course to say, Oh Education is a scam by the corporations to keep you under their hold. To keep you average. To make you a worker drone in the hive we call society. And coming from me, that's saying something. Sure, oh, Don't work, live free, do what you like. I happen to like to be a rockstar or a footballer. I also want to be a mutant and a superhero, a spy and a marine biologist. I have no idea why, but I have grown to hate writings like those. Things that try to sway opinions one way or another by saying things people want to hear. People want to hear things that tell them what they secretly think is true. They want you to tell them yes, life is short, you only live once, live it fun. Work is terrible. So is school.

Me? I am happy the way i am. I like studying, learning about stuff, as much as i dislike exams which are coming in a week. I want to be a great doctor and perhaps specialise in something i not sure of yet. I want to work, tiring as it will be, and it should be, and do things i may regret a little in the end. I want to feel tired, exhausted even. And then i plan, and i hope that i will live a good long life and then when i retire, i can get back to school to learn about philosophy or greek mythology or things like that.

Up yours.Adrian.

Till next time.

Y estare contigo cuando treste estas

I believed in that line once. but perhaps no more. but somehow. that line triggers something in me.

bloody hail.

The gambler

On a warm summer's evenin' on a train bound for nowhere,
I met up with the gambler; we were both too tired to sleep.
So we took turns a starin' out the window at the darkness
'Til boredom overtook us, and he began to speak.

He said, "Son, I've made my life out of readin' people's faces,
And knowin' what their cards were by the way they held their eyes.
so if you don't mind my sayin', I can see you're out of aces.
For a taste of your whiskey I'll give you some advice."

So I handed him my bottle and he drank down my last swallow.
Then he bummed a cigarette and asked me for a light.
And the night got deathly quiet, and his face lost all expression.
Said, "If you're gonna play the game, boy, ya gotta learn to play it right.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.

Ev'ry gambler knows that the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' what to throw away and knowing what to keep.
'Cause ev'ry hand's a winner and ev'ry hand's a loser,
And the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep."

When he'd finished speakin', he turned back towards the window,
Crushed out his cigarette and faded off to sleep.
And somewhere in the darkness the gambler, he broke even.
But in his final words I found an ace that I could keep.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.

Great song by Kenny Rogers. great song.

My friends. 41 days.
And then we chill out and do stupid things.

four mid-autumns.

'And they were all there to meet me,
In the shade of the old oak tree.'

Its the mid-autumn festival again. The day that they say, the moon is at its roundest, most perfect form of the entire year. Yet too, they say, that the moon is always rounder back home. Yes. Its one of those days, and those posts about me missing home again.

I can assure you that these days do not happen every other day. In fact, I think it happens far less for me compared to the average international student. But i believe that there are dates, set by people long past, about times where we should feel a certain way. And somehow, there's this need of me to honour these dates and stuff. Some call me old, my mind that of an old man. But i guess, in a way, that's respecting culture and tradition.

On this day 15 yrs ago. I would be in Chong Pang, away from my extended family, but closest to my parents. They will push my sister on a tram, or was she walking by then? and one of them will hold on to one small hand of mine, while my other will be firmly grasped around a lantern, was it a dinosaur? green? blue? purple? The details get faded it seems. But we would walk, 4 of us, a core family unit, around our neighbourhood. Past that police post right at our doorstep, to the community centre and my school right across our block. around, back, and perhaps enjoy some mooncake and sleep.

Then 5 years later. I was in Malaysia, Subang. Where i would celebrate this day with my neighbours, the few of us who all go to the same school, whose parents know each other's parents. We would once again, parade with our lanterns. And its a little clearer this time. Its a dinosaur again. A purple one, the shape of one of those plant eating kind. And i remember now, the one when i was younger was a superhero, of unknown faction, probably just a knock-off by some chinese factory. But back to 10 yrs ago, me and my friends then, we would place candles in nicely positioned piles. And light them, trying to create a huge fire. And we would jump with joy when it crackled and burn and would add little pieces of grass and stick to it. And just when we get excited, our parents will without fail come, put down their tea and mooncakes, and put out the fire and tell us to stop. And we would, for secretly we know, that tomorrow in school, we would say we created the biggest fire yet.

And 5 years further on, when i was 15 going on 16, I had no more liking for such playthings. I was an adult in my eyes already. So as my sister begged to go walk with her lantern, i refused. And perhaps i hurt her then. For that, I'm sorry. For when we grow up, sometimes, we forget what is it like to be young. What, or how we might have thought. When we grow older it seems, we tend to forget the important things. Like how amazing cars are. Or why is the sky blue. Or that superman exists. And sometimes, we don't event acknowledge that we forgot them. Attributing them to, 'we grew up'. And in that way, we get chased out of narnia.

And just a year ago, this day was like any other. I was in camp. Doing the usual stuff. Not even knowing the day has came. Perhaps at the smoking corner i realised the moon was round that night. Perhaps i didn't.

And today came. I am having a celebration come the next night. And hopefully, I can see the moon.

Sing I for a brave and a gallant ship,
A stiff and a rattling breeze,
A bully's crew and a captain true,
To carry her o'er the seas.

So blow yer winds high oh!
A roaming she would go.
For she's on her way to her own true love
Five thousand miles away.

Haiku for a cold night.

I miss the cold nights.
Sipping Beer and Vodka
Talking Unrestrained.

marklar. If a Marklar did marklar than a marklar, it takes real marklar for marklar to marklar marklar.

marklar.

I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river and it made me complete

Oh simple thing where have you gone
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

I came across a fallen tree
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Oh simple thing where have you gone
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go
Somewhere only we know?

Oh simple thing where have you gone
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

So if you have a minute why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go
So why don't we go

This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go
Somewhere only we know?