Excerpts [Part 1]

This post is made up of sentences and excerpts from a blog that I know pretty well;  thought it’d be a good idea to share some of the decent lines here. I’m probably splitting it up into a few parts because there are too many of them.

“A commonly visited leisure spot once upon a time has turned into a deserted playground of broken swings.”

“I’ll wait, til the day is mine.”

“There are days when you feel punched out, and today’s one of them.”

“It’s not a monologue.. it’s just a dialogue without response.”

“Behind every cynical person is a sad story unbeknownst to others.”

“Crack lines; try as you might to fix them, they’ll always be there somewhere.”

“The moment before I fall asleep is the happiest moment of the day; it is as though dreams have merged with reality. I feel alive and awake, but live a dream and a fantasy.”

“Accept and like a person not for what he is, but for who he is.”

“It’s like… after a person has made a wrong choice, you should let him choose again so that he is more clear about what he wants and will this time, make the right decision and appreciate the right decision so much more and never allow himself to decide or choose wrongly again.”

“There’s a reason why you should run after the bus, and not be lazy and convince yourself you won’t be able to catch it.”

“50% here and 50% there will not get you 100% anywhere.”

“… My fantasy is your reality.”

 

 

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Autumn Leaves (As If Not In Singapore)

One will never know how hard it is to sweep leaves away
Until one has done it before:

They spread as you gather them
They head north as you try to get them South
They are everywhere when you want them at one place
They seem to almost have a life of their own;

Under the sweltering heat you sweep them
As beads of perspiration form like a necklace around your neck
And when you think all is still in a heap under the sun
A gust of wind blows and they take flight as you look on and sigh;

You look at the dead leaves fall on the ground
A reminder of what once was the crowning beauty of a majestic tree
Reduced to nothing but a pile of lifelessness to be swept away
To make space for the cycle of life that goes on regardless;

Oh how hard it is to sweep away the leaves of yesterday!

Somehow the above lines, after being written, feels a little like a metaphor for memories and things of the past (yesterday), that has to go in order to make space for what is to come. This is the cycle of life, that what has come must go, and what has gone will have to come round again. Sounds slightly nostalgia, but this continuity is itself the essence of life.

Once In A Distant Memory

I walk down those familiar aisles and take in the familiar smell
Of times and moments past that never will return nor be relived again
Like a distant memory washed away on a lonely shore
Taking the form of a bottle left in the sand – buried and forgotten;

I turn the corner and I can almost see us sitting there giggling
On all those afternoons where we turned obligation into fun
Injecting laughter into boring subjects of dull repetitions
Knowing that at the end of the day we are all in this together;

Yet just as we were about to concretize and come alive again
We vanish at the blink of an eye right before my very eyes
Bringing me back again to the present and to reality
Where what we were stays hidden in the chronicles of time;

Nevertheless I smile at how everything once was
And I’m glad that it all did happen faintly

Once in a distant memory.

(Here is a post dedicated to a special place that I will always remember, a place with memories and good times that I will always cherish. Today I learnt that in life we win some and lose some; tomorrow I will tell you what winning is about.)

Reverie, Memories

Standing in the middle of the square
Looking around at people everywhere
A million scenes flash before his eyes
Trying not to think of all those dreadful lies;

His dad told him to write a poem with a rhyme
Like how he thought writing without one was a crime
But all that doesn’t mean much to him now
Standing there thinking nothing but why and how;

He remembers the times she waited for him by the shop
Looking at the spot now he almost sees her in her spaghetti top
But all that is nothing more than just a distant pain
Standing there alone staring at the same spot in the rain;

The poem has long expired from the first word on
The fact of the matter is nothing more than ‘now she’s gone’
Yet lost deep in his memories he sees her again
And off he runs after her not knowing it is all in vain;

Reverie, memories.

Now and Forever (One Love)

I miss spending time with you:
Times when there was only you and me
Spending nostalgic nights and lonely evenings together
– Just the two of us alone at last at twilight time;

I would hold you tight and gently caress you
Where you would be quietly sitting on my lap
Or lying beside me counting stars and sometimes
I would rest my heavy head on your slender figure and rounded shoulders;

I love the sweet melody you make when we get into the mood:
Sometimes my fingers move fast and rough while other times slow and meticulous
Going up and down and sometimes with more than one finger
Where with each stroke you grow louder and sound more attractive than ever;

Some of my friends adore the exotic way you look while others secretly tell me
You don’t look great and they wonder why I chose you to begin with;

I guess I’ll have to admit:

I know there are others out there who feel better in my arms,
Others who are prettier and more worthy to be shown off,
Those that can be boasted of how great they sound
Or how dropdead gorgeous they look;

But really in all honesty:
All that doesn’t matter one bit because
You are mine and I love the way we sound together
Where everything feels oh so right as if you were crafted for me
(It just doesn’t feel right with any other else besides you);

I don’t get to spend much time with you now and I miss you so,
Two days in a week spent with you is not (and never will be) enough;

I think of you day and night and this I dedicate to you:
One guitar, one love, now and forever.

(Once again, another shot at romanticizing military life through the separation between me and my guitar; I hope you all like it as much as ‘My Valentine’ and I hope to receive feedback if there are any that you think can improve my writing. Cheers!)

Pitter-Patter

(Here’s to breaking the rule one more time, hope its worth the post haha)

I woke up to the pitter-patter of the raindrops.

It was pouring outside, and it never rained in the morning for the whole month when I went to school. I could feel the cold breeze filtering in through the curtains and it gave me a chill all over when I realized there would not be a wave of ‘good mornings’ meeting me as I stroll through the school gates and stand at my usual spot to observe assembly; there would be no assembly today due to the rain and my spot for the morning will remain empty for the rest of the year.

Every morning was warm and sunny when I walked into the office to sign in and start the day. It now appears that the world has taken on a slightly paler shade as I sit cross-legged on my bed and look back at my days in the staffroom and classrooms; I’d rather be walking through the gates now and thinking of my day ahead.

The rain continues to fall and the skies remain grey.