The Fray - How To Save A Life (Version #2)

The Fray's second single "How To Save A Life"

I'll Keep You In A Jar. I'll Give You Breathing Holes. I'll Teach You How To Save A Life.

I'll teach you how to count.

The distance to the moon equals to the amount of your snoozing hours in a lifetime multiply by four. Imagine dreaming your way to the moon. Ain't it a doll?

Where did I go wrong? I have a lost a friend. I have lost two friends. Then three and four. Then a dozen until I learn to stop counting. I have never thought I need so many people. Tall, fat, short, busty, ugly bastard people.

YOU MUST COUNT! Life is fucking mathematical! Your bills, your earnings, your loves, their worth, their reciprocation and all your bloody sacrifices.

I will sit with you all night until I have taught you how to count. I'll put up one finger to tell you what is one. One is the lone shadow in the night. The only one to feel when everyone's dreaming about the moon. The only one's still up to teach you how to count.

Then I'll put up two fingers, like the proud sign of victory. It is two. Two is more than one. Two is being delirious. Delirious about God. Delirious about people. You have learnt that God make people to so that they could keep each other company, and it's ludicrous. In the moving silhouettes in the moonlight against the wall, two is merely the wishful projection of one.

I'll withdraw the second finger back into my fist and show you one finger again. One. It will always be one. Be it ten or twenty hands, it is actually only one finger in the dark.

You shake your head and smiled abit. You are hopeful. I have to teach you and I will teach you until you know how to save a life. One life. Your life. I point one finger again and you grin like an idiot and show me all ten fingers. I kindly and politely put your fingers away and show one lonely finger.

You smirk and show me your fingers and toes.

I GRAB YOUR HAIR AND SMACK YOU ONCE WITH THE END OF MY HAND! AND HIT YOU ACROSS YOUR STUPID FACE AGAIN AND AGAIN UNTIL YOUR EYES TEAR AND YOU STOP SHOWING ME YOUR FINGERS! FINGERS! I HAD TO HIT YOU, I HAD TO AND I WILL NOT STOP UNTIL YOU LEARN HOW TO FUCKING COUNT!

ONE!

Always.

And you left, just like the rest. After all it's all about the balance. The balance always add up and multiplies and then subtracts and divides back to one. The only one in that room of moonlight.

You left. Where did I go wrong? I begin to wonder. Why that pattern of mathematical error? Why one? WHY ONE?!! Why did you all leave me behind?

I know what I am all along. I will not change. Even if it means to be the only one. I'll get used to it. I will fix myself if I have to. I will learn to stop counting. I will live as one.

Society is a gigantic punchline itself.

By the way I lied. I don't know the distance to the moon.

I couldn't fucking count to even save my life.

SCRUBS! TURK DOES THE DANCE!

Turk dancing to..Posion! By bbd...DONT you just love scrubs.

I secretly wish I could dance like that.

Culture Club - Do you really want to hurt me?

Captured from a VHS Videotape off a 1982 Top of the Pops (UK BBC1) programme.
Men up and down the land were trying to make out if the lead singer were male or female!!!! - most thought he were a girl and fancied him after seeing him on this TOTP clip!

Andriod Shorts - Junior Detectives

Pacific Creation, Sector Seven Seven Four. Midhours to the Seventh Ration Period.

The rusty staircase creaked meekly under their weight. The two detectives moved along the chest of the wall with pale moonlight beaming through the dusty windows of the run down building. Precisely seven greened signals ago, the House had received information of a local smuggler and dispatched two junior detectives to the slums of Sector Seven Seven Four for justification.

'This is it.' Whispered Detective Smoz, throwing his head towards the nearest door near the stairs. He pulled out a pistol shaped Disabler and started charging it with red bulbs of crystals. The Disabler churned silently and clicked to confirm energy satisfaction.

'Smuggler, right?' Smiled Detective Banks. 'I get to crack open his head this time, right?' He played with a mean looking baton with his gloved fingers.

They proceeded to get closer.

'What's the creeper smuggling?' Banks asked as he spun the baton faster. 'Sapient related ding a dong?'

'Why are you asking me?' Hissed Smoz in annoyance, keeping his eyes on the door. 'You heard the radio!'

'Yeah. Yeah. Bugbed.' Said Banks. 'Since when they dispatch gismo like us to smuggling cases? I swear that folks at the House are pulling this one on us. Shitbags never forget a debt. I will mend their Pods one day, I had promised, right?'

'Just shut up.' Said Smoz as he kicked the door, exploding away. He pointed his Disabler into the dark hall and went in cautiously.

'Wait! Wait! I'm not ready yet!' Shouted a teary voice from the master room.

Banks bolted and bashed his way into the master room, yelling, 'We don't care!'

They saw a young android packing furiously and spun in shock as he saw their presence. He raised his arms in surrender quickly.

'What you have there, droid?' Asked Smoc as he pointed his Disabler and proceeded to ransack the bags on the bed.

'No! No! No!' Shouted the suspect in panic but raised his hands back in the air with Smoc's Disabler churned red towards his eyes. 'Please don't touch them! Please! I haven't figure out what I'm supposed to do with them yet!'

'Shut up. Banks, you are permitted to hit him as much as you desire.' Said Smoc as he went for the bed.

The suspect ripped open his shirt and exploding from his chest, he shot a brick size rocket at Smoc. A loud crash and Smoc was decapitated in flares and smokes. The young suspect grabbed his bags and darted for the exit. He rocketed another shot, barely missing Banks. Banks leaped onto him, snatching away at his shirt and hair, trying to steady a firm grip. And when he did, he hacked his baton repeatedly at the suspect's head.

Five dozen times later, Banks stopped and found wires and blue goo splashed all over his coat. With disgust, he kicked the head and it rolled to the edge of the hall.

'Carry me! I want to see him!' Yelled Smoc.

Banks grabbed the bags and went into the master room which had now started a small fire. 'Look what that bleedin' creeper got here?' Banks brought out some jars of organs. There were two wet hearts and a floating brain.

'We got a trafficker.' Shrugged Banks. 'Probably rotating them to the Cyborgs.'

'I said carry me! I want to see him!' Repeated Smoc.

'Okay! Alrightey!' Spat Banks and he carried Smoc's head in his arms. He brought it to the hall and stood over the suspect body, now draining electrical fluid all over the place.

'The head! Why did you bring me to the body! I want to talk to the head!' Yelled Smoc infuriately.

'You best be careful with your manner. I'm the only one with head kicking legs in this room. Want to fraternise with my sole?' Smiled Banks.

Banks carried Smoc's head and went to the edge of the hall where the head of the suspect was. The suspect's head moaned in agony.

'Always shoot the head, mister! You never aim for the body, you aim for the fucking head! That's why you criminals are idiots! That's why you never win!' Laughed Smoc.

The suspect's head opened his jaws wide and shot a walnut sized rocket at Smoc, blasting it into pieces. Banks reeled in his surprise and stomped his boot over the suspect's head, killing it.

Banks dumped the burning head of Smoc down the rubbish chute with a snicker, gathered the bags in the master room and went to sit at the moonlit corridor while the fire had spread to the hall from the master room. He gently pushed his temple and muttered to himself, 'Detective Banks to House. Officer down. Suspect killed in action. Requesting backup and statement protocol.'

Anatomy Of A Heart

I realized that no one can truly be alone.

That is frustrating.

How real is a fall if you ain't truly alone.

Not even if you exile to the world's end, you will never be alone.

That is frustrating.

You'll still carry people in your heart. The loathed, the feared, the guilty and the remembered will cramped in your right atrium, your left atrium, around the bends of your coronary arteries, beneath your borrowed pulmonary valve and into your wispy Chordae Tendineae, for trapped they were, forever.

Alzheimer can be frustrating, but Alzheimer patients are never unhappy. The bliss in not remembering the anchor and the animal trap that gnawed tightly onto the ankles of your mind.

For the longest time, I had been trying to justify I'm all alone. But I'm not, and I won't be. It is cruel in a way. God created so many people, so that He could take away them when you need them the most and stuff them back into your life when you thought you are alone. If you think that notion is endearing and romantic, you must be those who believed in horoscopes and stood against everything I ever lobbied. It is cruel to play such petty games.

When I went through my operation last July. Most of the people I treasured my whole life never turned up. Some kindred ones did. It was an critical lesson on life and relationship. I was able to see who were the ones solid enough to grind through turmoils with me. She of course, like all dutifully girlfriend stayed through the course. Surviving hospitalization without permanent damage is a wet dream for couples all over the world. It is one true defining moment to step up and nurse your loved ones to good health. She did, and I thought that was it. That kind of shit until the end shit thingy.

Few months ago, when she tried to break up with me, citing that she had wanted to break up with me eons ago, but had waited until my operation was over and I was well before she could blow it out her ass.

While one can never truly be alone, loneliness however is a powerful state of mind. The alienation, the isolation, the paranoia and the self fulfilling prophecies can be suffocatingly real. And when that state of mind shifted you by the collar, you could never return unscathed again.

Alzheimer though will thieve you of your ability to live, it will also rob your knowledge of remembering how lonely you had felt. And for me, that's a pretty good trade off.

There are so many things in life to get lost in. Choose wisely. Take comfort in whatever red herring journey you partake, you can never be alone. Live and be happy. If not, forget the fuck and be happy anyways.