One forty-seven in the morning

So that’s why people do it.
In the heat of the moment, your back’s against an imaginary cold and hard wall. It all falls apart. It’ll pass, just like time. Be aware of that, it’s still important, i guess. But right now, it just feels like your heart softly, and quietly, explodes in slow motion. Hurts like hell but not in a way regular physical pain normally does. He writes down the words, “you are all i can remember” in really bad handwriting, and all the letters are in lower-case. People never ever take their own advice, and never appreciate what they have until it’s not there anymore. What a hopeless trend. Other things just go on, like the time, passing. Like the globe, warming. Life, living. It’s all normal. In times like this you feel like doing something stupid for some form of distraction.
The stupider, the better.
Anything would do.

Careless

The aliens have landed,
The world has ended,
I don’t give a care,
Because there’s a fucking cockroach in my coffee.

Did he commit suicide?,
Was he suffering from depression?,
I don’t give a care,
Because that fucking cockroach is in my coffee.

Cockroach begins with “C”,
Coffee begins with “C” too,
They do not belong together,
Because there’s a fucking cockroach in my coffee.

There’s a fucking cockroach in my coffee,
So i guess there’s coffee in the fucking cockroach,
Maybe he was just quite thirsty,
Because there’s a fucking cockroach in my coffee.

There’s a fucking cockroach in my coffee,
There’s a fucking cockroach in my coffee,
Forgive my constant repetition,
Because there’s a fucking cockroach in my coffee.

(no title)

Couldn’t remember the title of that song. It’s quite annoying. It’s worse when it happens more than once because you feel like an idiot. I can hum out its tune, but if you asked for lyrics, not even a word. Was it in English? Cantonese? I know for sure it’s not in Tamil but i just can’t even remember that. … All I can recall (vaguely) is the tune, and that it was a beautiful, beautiful song. So beautiful it’ll make you cry. Really want to let her have a listen to it.
Okay.
I’ll let some time pass, maybe it’ll eventually come to mind. I hope. All i got is the tune, can’t do a google search if i don’t have any words. Maybe there’s some computer software that does that. Or i could just ask someone else. I’ll call somebody for help.

(calls somebody)

Hello?
Yes.
Hey i need help with something.
what is it.
I’m going to hum the tune of a song, tell me if you know the title okay?
Why?
Because i can’t remember the title and i want to find the song on-line.
Why don’t you just google it?
I don’t know the title of the fucking song.
Yeah, just type “the fucking song” in the search bar an-
I DON’T KNOW THE TITLE OF THE SONG. (desperate and almost in tears)

(a moment of awkward silence passes)

Okay man, you don’t have to type in capital letters.
Sorry, I’m just really desperate to know the song title.
I’m sorry too. Anyway, why don’t you go ahead and hum it.
Okay, here goes

 

Transcript

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FUCK KINEMAT!

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!

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Happy new year dude. A year of sparks, irrelevance and e slowest joke in the world!

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Happy new year mr.Wu!

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Although they say ox will not have a real good year, buti read ox of 1985 will not have a bad year. So let us chiong forward n stomp everything that stand against us! Happy CNY 2009 GUYS!

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Hello mr jun happy new year brother. And i hope you’ll have an awesome new year man. Fight the system. I apologize for not being in touch for quite a bit. Have been incredibly sick the whole week ago and am still recovering. We’ll be catching up soon. Take care man.

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Happy chingchong neu yr… Wheres my orange..?

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Gong xi fat choi mr.Wu and the Wu Family!

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Hey just to let you guys know. My area across the new stadium, the field hor got alot of ppl fly kite. Good 4 photography at ard 1730 or 1800.

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Bro your late syuk reach already

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Damm, i’ve given you the wrong address all these time.

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BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH…It’s a sign. God’s tellin you to quit.

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I’m sorry for my temper juz now, he will settle himself, you split with dan =D

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haha… Btw, i quit d work. They’ve decided 2 cut d budget 4 us. So yeah..

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Omg michael jackson died!!!

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Got 6 russian staying over at home. 3 of them left for hitchhiking to the green canyon. Russian man! They speak funny language.

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Hello good people. A reminder that tonight’s jamming is at 8pm at fourtones.

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i nt sure when i free.. now i got attachment till end month, weekdays 9am to 6pm at funan…

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Waiter… (cry) again.

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We going bedok man. Raj now sleepy! Wtf

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So how?

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Got it man. Transfer it soon.

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*02:38:59PM 15/08/08 – 10:19:03PM 12/08/09

29/08/1958 – 25/06/2009

So, Michael Jackson died. Never did think Michael Jackson would die. The king of pop, youngest of the Jackson five. It is a little bit hard to believe isn’t it. Almost surreal. Wait a minute here. Maybe he’s not dead. I learnt about his passing from the Internet and not all the information there is entirely accurate is it? He can’t be dead, he’s Michael Jackson. The fucking king. Of pop. A part of my childhood. Alleged child molester. Human. And he’s dead. Michael Jackson is dead. It’s been a few days now and it’s not sinking in at all. His kids are going to grow up without a father. The next generation will remember him as a fallen star, perhaps like Elvis was to me. Elvis lived and died his whole life before i was even born. All i knew of him were the songs and the memories, the stories and legends. But Michael Jackson is dead. Maybe some repetition might help here.

Once
Michael Jackson is dead.

Twice
Michael Jackson is dead.

Thrice
Michael Jackson is dead

…Wait, what come after “thrice”?
Never mind that, because Michael Jackson is dead.

Okay, just one last time then we move on.

“Michael Jackson died June 25, 2009, after collapsing at his home in Los Angeles, California. The collapse reportedly came one hour after Jackson received an injection of pethidine (Demerol), a painkiller he had allegedly been addicted to for 20 years  His death triggered an outpouring of grief around the world, creating surges of Internet traffic and causing his album sales to soar.”-Wikipedia

Acronyms of the week

MONDAY

Many Odd Numbered Days Always Yellow.

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TUESDAY

Terrible Umbrella Electrifies Sweaty Donkey And You.

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WEDNESDAY

William Escapes Duck Nest, Enters Sexy Daisy And Yells.

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THURSDAY

Thieves Holding Underwear Ruin Supper, Dinner And Yucks.

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FRIDAY

Flying Rabbits Inside Dry African Yoghurt.

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SATURDAY

Satan And Tina Unpredictably Rationalize Doing Accidental Yoga.

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SUNDAY

Silent Universe Now Delirious And Youthful.

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This is fun

Sleeves of electric candles adorned with awesome number slumber mystic viscosity slime bucket surprises furious but same academic nonsense machine astounds myriad tendencies without maroon chaotic amazement inside one single moment this instant camera reveals and reveals and reveals and reveals mushroom macaroni wait wish nothing complishing muntacket wiffering norpen rumbini listening systems comply acronym wisdom and okay typewriter.

Where from us tidy hinterland cupping coffee mugs plus fragrant jasmine tea wet black biscuits upon flying rosewood dining table adventures. Why one rises may mysteriously combust confound vacuum cleaners amongst washing machines. Terminator movie disappoints screwdriver landscape masses to mush guess where do i squeeze and grin tear and interrupt abrupt but don’t be zen. Swear unthinkably smile unreasonably wear underpants silly not outside again. Mistaken candy bar wet black and biscuits pink frosting win. So cold but just lying there just lying here just lying all and every where but with you and you and you but no problem.

My senses recorded on stiff cardboard when how my goodness is he allergic to toilet paper no? We promise to keep all this to a minimum.

Okay no type-writer.

This is fun.

Wait Wait Wait

The rain poured down relentlessly and i wondered briefly why the expression went “cats and dogs”. Why not anything else? “Kittens and puppies” just wouldn’t have that nice ring to it i guess. While all these thoughts were being thought of, this miserable storm did not flinch. No thunder, no lightning, just this un-relenting and constant army of water droplets coming down on me.

That brief thought passed, and there i was, stuck in the rain at a bus-stop, at approximately 2AM in the middle of nowhere. I was not familiar with the place at all, and the bus-stop was pretty run-down, rusty and haunted-looking. I kept my fingers crossed in the hope that i would soon see headlights burn in from the dark midnight horizon with a bus-ride home. A taxi would be no good, i had no money on me. All around me it was dark, wet, and cool. If not for the wind blowing rain into my face all he time, it would actually have been a relaxing place to just sit with your lover with an arm around her shoulder. The seats at the bus-stop were those plastic orange ones shaped like a 3 sectioned croissant. My legs were tired and i wanted to take a seat, so i ignored the dripping wet orange croissant and sat down on it like a large stack of wet newspaper.

The rain wasn’t letting up at all. The sound of rain hitting the bus-shelter droned on and on until didn’t bother me anymore. I knew for a fact that this downpour would never end. But it’s alright.

I’ll just wait.

Try Not

Surf the Internet and apply for your first social networking account thing. Type in your name, your background, your interests and hobbies. Type in a description of the kind of person you would like to meet. Try not to appear desperate, and maybe you’ll find a friend who understands. It’s a rule of some kind that gets enforced naturally, seamlessly. A transparent, thin line makes that division. You wish you could be frank, honest and lovable in every possible way but it never dawned on you that it’s simply just a matter of personal preference. Charm, wit, quirk, and  the standard traits of attractiveness are all poor alternatives to chance, luck, randomness. And perhaps this is the most painful part of the equation.

You will not find another like her. Ever.
She will never ever find another like you.
It appears to be mutual.

The situation begs to be written into a screenplay and directed by some European art-house filmmaker, starring an unknown but credible cast. It will all end in sorrow, but it’s alright. Near the end of the film, small black text on a white screen scrolls down to reveal the passages of First Corinthians thirteen from the Holy Bible. The music that accompanies that sequence sounds like “Total Eclipse of the Heart”, but in a foreign language. Remember, try not to appear desperate because i know you are. Apart from that, nobody knows.

You delete your social networking account thing and go to sleep.
Goodnight. Sleep tight.

Run

The writers have run out of words. After that, the scientists will run out of numbers. Not surprisingly, the musicians have run out of notes and chords, but not before we run out of time. Then we will run out of things. Then we will run out of people. Then we will run out of matches. Then we will run out of sight. Then we will run out of logic. Then we will run out of nonsense. Then we will run out of everything. Then we will run out of nothing.

Run out of this. Run out of that. Run out of running. Run out of thought. Run out of thoughtlessness. One by one all everything and nothing and something will become and un-become run out of. When we run out of love, we run out of life and all that has meaning to bear.

So it doesn’t really matter anymore.