Saved On The Eleventh Hour

I'm here for a short while.



Committing on Monday again.



Endless needle pokes, red blood in tubes, red wrist tagging and the unbearable heat in Class B2 warding.



Long story short.



SGH is a cheebye place to host and care for patients.



Procrastinating bastards.



Don't get it?



Neither do I.


Death is so overrated.

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I just want to be left alone.

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Two to seven in the morning.



I could not bear to sleep.



I watched the entire season of Futurama on youtube.



Then I watched the entire season of That 70's show.



The sun came up.



I looked at myself in the sink's mirror.



I wished I had the courage to run my head through it.



I'm pretty fucked up there at times.



That's what make all these interesting, innit?



Welcome.

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I've traveled a lot in the day.



Nowhere to go, no one to meet.



Friendly faces everywhere, humble folks without temptations.



I read in the news that some crazed psycho went rampage in Manhattan
subway, wielding cordless power saws and plunging them into commuters'
chests.



Wicked.



I used to have fantasy of roosting people in the MRT subway with a
flame-thrower. Such crawl space there, nowhere to escape. I could
inhale fear through my skin.



Muffed screams always a draw.



I should check out the prices of the power saws.

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Afternoon.



Wasted mine in a lan shop.



Rediscovered the fact that I had lost interest in virtual gaming.



What's the point of respawning each time you die?

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Stood in front of a CD player in a Music Store with headphones at my temples.

Section: Recommended Pop/Rock.





Electrico had a new album - Hip City. It took a second album to finally
understand why Amanda Ling was in the band. Won't pay for it though.





The Feeders sounded like Foo Fighters. Crap.





Kings Of Convenience's Quiet Is The New Loud. Note to self, must download.

Angels And Airways were very experimental. Think I would give them a try.



Bloc Party's remixed album of Silent Alarm darn powerful man.



I took down the headphones.



I felt feverish and my eyes hurt for no apparent reasons.



I had nowhere to be.



I put them back on and listened for another hour.



Time and space were at it's worst during tortures and depressions.

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Maybe I should start to believe in the goodness of people.



Ease being a skeptic.



Cease trusting only upon good karma received.



That day I was in a heated argument with my mom.



She suggested that by second guessing other people's goodwill and
refusing to offer benefits of doubt, I would eventually suffer.



I defended back, biting on the notion that my refusal to be fed every
crap they gave, and that only through analysing and critical on the
facts was an humane act of maturity and wisdom.



She said how could she stand back and watch her son matured into a pessimistic skeptic crude.



I asked her how could she just plainly put her absolute trust in an illusive promise?



She wanted me to start believing.



I wanted her to start questioning.



We were fighting about the excuses my surgeons gave to keep delaying my operation.



Then I realised we were actually quarreling about our religious beliefs.



I'm a atheist and she's a Christian.

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I had realised that I hadn't look at any girls since I was out.



Depression was a real killer to libido.



I only wished my melancholy could be completed with a grey and stormy rain.



But no.



It was but a lovely day with cotton clouds in the skies, decorated with sunny ambience.



Traffics were polite and young punks quited smoking altogether.



God hates me.

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Evening.



Watched The King And The Clown with her.



Surprisingly good.



Clark Kent can return to his fortress of boredom for all I care.

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Went home in a crowded train.



It was as if the world boarded on the same train, having us squeezed in between.



If globalization would result to this same effect, I guess my flame-thrower could really come in handy.



The train rumbled and shook as I held her close to me.



My hands were behind her back and hers on my shoulders.



We were so close we could smell each other.



Our breath touched.



The train swayed us along, from side to side.



Our eyes never wavered from sight. Glued together.



Me: 'Feel like we are dancing, in slow waltz.'



The train shook us gently like a palm tree in the ocean breeze.



She laughed at that thought.



We swayed gently along, to our whispering beats, the tiny dribble of
our feet. In the MRT train of evening commuters and the swarming bodies
of the tired folks.



I would think that someone would have noticed our motions but we wouldn't know.



For that journey, we were lost in our little evening waltz.



We wouldn't know.

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And there, I felt right.



At last.

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Oh yea. Price of a power saw = $408.