Before the worst
The Script

It's been a while since the two of us talked
About a week since the day that you walked
Knowing things would never be the same
With your empty heart and mine full of pain
So explain to me, How it came to this
Let's take it back to the night that we kissed
It was Dublin city on a Friday night
With vodkas and coke, I was Guinness all night

We were sitting with our backs against the world
Saying things that we thought but never heard
Who would have thought it would end up like this?
Where everything we talked about is gone

And the only chance we have of moving on
Is trying to take it back before it all went wrong

Before the worst
Before we met
Before our hearts decided it's time to love again
Before today
Before too long
Let's try and take it back before it all went wrong

There was a time that we'd stay up all night
Best friends, yeah, talking til the daylight
Took the joys alongside the pain
With not much to lose but so much to gain
Are you hearing me? Cos I don't wanna miss
That you would drift on memory bliss
It was Grafter street, on a rainy night
I was down on one knee and you were mine for life

We were thinking we would never be apart
With your name tattooed across my heart
Who would have thought it would end up like this?

But everything we talked about is gone
And the only chance we have of moving on
Was trying to take it back before it all went wrong

Before the worst
Before we met
Before our hearts decided it's time to love again
Before today
Before too long
Let's try and take it back before it all went wrong

If the clouds don't clear
Then we'll rise above it, we'll rise above it
Heavens gate is so near
Come walk with me through
Just like we used to, just like we used to

Let's take it back
before it all went wrong



I'm so going to fail promos if this continues.

Sometimes I look at what others' actions and ask myself what on earth do they think they are doing? It is especially at this period of time where we realize that we're more alone than we think we are. Each trying their hardest to do what we can to fit in or to put on some false front. But when it all comes to a standstill and we turn back to observe the wake of our destruction, we will see that indeed, what have we been doing? What are we doing?

I know it's not right for me to pass judgment on people since I am less than perfect and have been in this situation before, but I can't help it. What are they doing? This thought would echo and crescendo in my mind as I continue to watch these people day after day.

The funny thing is that when it comes to a climax, there will always be this tiny voice cutting through the din saying What have you done for you to judge those people?
We lonely people;
So similar and yet so different.





But-
Call out and I would be there for you.
Always;
Forever.

efeeeeelese eleiekeee eseoemeee efereeeaekeienege eceheaereieteye eceaeseee.

Inevitable.

Gaara rocks.

Afrika Bambaataa

-thumbs up-

"Hello, are you a PRC"
"Hello, are you from China?"

I've heard these questions so many times that it's really quite sad every time another person attempts to ask this question.
I am indeed a full-fledged, made-in-Singapore Singaporean. I've never admitted this, but unlike many other Singaporeans, I actually do love Singapore. My heart swells with pride every time I sing the national anthem. Just knowing that I'm part of this nation (although it's political prestige fares very badly in the face of other countries) which built itself up, knowing that it's chances to fail was greater than the ability to succeed, makes me proud.

Some people might say that this feelings arise from the propaganda the Singapore government has been spoon-feeding with since the day we set foot onto this tiny island. However, I do not believe that propaganda can bring any country so far, or even induce its citizens with the semblance of nationalistic feelings. Singapore, amidst the propaganda, does have positive points.

So I guess, when people ask me if I'm from China, it's not so much the dislike towards China but rather it kind of hurts my Singaporean ego.

Well, that's just being honest- and being forced over the edge by like 3 people asking in a day if I'm from China.

So no, I'm not,
Just a mighty plain Singaporean who's happy to be here (at this time).

Because I'm too lazy to think of my own posts LOL

From The Legend of Drizzt - Exile

Spirit
Spirit. It cannot be broken and it cannot be stolen away. A victim in the throes of despair might feel otherwise, and certainly the victim's "master" would like to believe it so. But in truth, the spirit remains, sometimes buried but never fully removed.

That is the false assumption of Zin-carla (It's a process of bringing dead drow/male elves back from the dead and they're controlled by a singular female master in a matriarchal elven society. The purpose of the zombie, or the "revived" dead drow elf is to obey the wishes of the living master.) and the danger of such sentient animation. The priestesses, I have come to learn, claim it as the highest gift of the Spider Queen deity who rules the drow. I think not. Better to call Zin-carla Lolth's greatest lie. (Lolth is the spider queen deity, in which the dark elves believe in)

The physical powers of the body cannot be separated from the rationale of the mind and the emotions of the heart. They are one and the same, a compilation of a singular being. It is in the harmony of these three - body, mind, and heart - that we find spirit.

How many tyrants have tried? How many rulers have sought to reduce their subjects to simple, unthinking instruments of profits and gain? They steal the loves, the religions, of their people; they seek to steal the spirit.

Ultimately and inevitably, they fail. This I must believe. If the flame of the spirit's candle is extinguished, there is only death, and the tyrant finds no gain in a kingdom littered with corpses. But it is a resilient thing, this flame of spirit, indomitable and ever-striving. In some, at least, it will survive, to the tyrant's demise.

Where, then, was Zaknafein, my father, when he set out purposefully to destroy me? Where was I in my years alone in the wilds, when this hunter that I had become blinded my heart and guided my sword hand often against my conscious wishes?
We both were there all along, I came to know, burried but never stolen.

Spirit.. In every language, in every time and place, the word has a ring of strength and determination. It is the hero's strength, the mother's resilience, and the poor man's armor. It cannot be broken, and it cannot be taken away.
This I must believe.

- Drizzt Do'Urden

From The Legend of Drizzt - Exile

Helplessness
There have been many times in my life when I have felt helpless. It is perhaps the most acute pain a person can know, founded in frustration and relentless rage. The nick of a sword upon a battling soldier's arm cannot compare to the anguish a prisoner feels at the crack of a whip. Even if the whip does not strike the helpless prisoner's body, it surely cuts deeply at his soul.

We all are prisoners at one time or another in our lives, prisoners to ourselves or to the expectations of those around us. It is a burden that all people endure, that all people despise, and that few people ever learn to escape. (random stuff)

In my stubborn youth, I believed that I could stand alone, that I was strong enough to conquer my enemies with sword and with principles. Arrogance convinced me that by sheer determination, I could conquer helplessness itself. Stubborn and foolish youth, I must admit, for when I look back on those years now, I see quite clearly that rarely did I stand alone and rarely did I have to stand alone. Always there were friends, true and dear, lending me support even when I believed I did not want it, and even when I did not realize they were doing it.

(random friends), and of course, Guenhwyvar, dear Guenhwyvar. These were the companions who justified my principles, who gave me strength to continue against any foe, real or imagined. These were the companions who fought the helplessness, the rage and frustration.

These were the friends who gave me my life.

- Drizzt Do'Urden

Who is my King of Glory?

While walking home today, I saw shortie. Except that after 1 year of not seeing him, I couldn't recognize him because he wasn't as short and he didn't look the same. He now has this mane of long hair that scared the heck out of me when I realized that he was shortie. The best thing was neither of us recognized each other until we reached our houses.

Darn. People change.
I change too.

I was telling nic and yuensin that I was feeling rather sad because this week would be the last week i'd see the lion D=
And I realized that quite a lot of people know who the lion is. LOL

A disgusting drawing by Xining