The Fly-Past of Jets

The satin sky winking above exploded in a mesh of red, yellow and green as I stood, head craned back, watching colorful arms extend from its bright central core. The fireworks in august - suffocating the usual clear air with an eerie fog and cloaking the towering buildings that reflected off the river - had blurred everything into a collective dream, its smoke quickly engulfing the stretch of road that I, together with those who did not bother getting seats to watch the parade invade Padang, had stood on.

Wow, we mouthed in unison.

[shall not post the rest]

since i miss watching the slew of national-day music videos that would bombard local television channels leading up to the 9th of August, i decided to search for them on youtube and ended up all teary-eyed because everything was too familiar and too distant.

i felt so far away; like i was watching someone else live the life that i vaguely remember having lived as images of the 8 year-old me, donned in red and white, waving the national flag in time to the familiar medley blasting out the school's speakers during the morning assembly; and the 14 year-old me, with my prefect badge and tie standing just in front of the student body with the others prefects, belting out various National Day Songs, flashed through my mind during the chorus of Tanya Chua's Where i Belong^click. sniff. memories kill me.

fucking homesick now. i miss my friends and the places i used to invade with them.
quoting Opperman from the theoretical portion of my thesis:

“[exilic writers and people of exile] do not have the convenience of returning home to look at pictures, visit old friends, or walk down familiar streets; instead they only have what is left in their mind to provide the comforts of home.”

happy belated 43rd birthday Singapore...

what a perfect time to get sick - not just homesick, but literally sick. i haven't been able to sleep enough and i just can't seem to keep my food down. pathetic. to add to that, my body decided to reset its internal clock and push its already ridiculous bedtime from 6am to 12pm (that's when i start getting crazy sleepy). i'm officially nocturnal. this explains why i am up and blogging at this hour. stupid school, you're ruining me.

because i'm feeling rather nostalgic, here's my secondary school class pictures. i look like crap there but i love it because it's taken with the people who know me better than anyone else - having had seen me in my awkward-relatively-innocent teen years...before any sort of defensive walls were put up.

3Peace(2001)^click
4Peace(2002)^click

yes, i graduated from secondary school in 2002. i'm old.

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mother gave me a ring for an early birthday present which is identical to the one she wears on her left middle finger - the same one she made me try on a few nights ago claiming that she was bored and just wanted to see how it would look on my finger. i love it. i've deemed it my new chastity ring (yes, chastity, i really don't need to be having sex). i think it would work though because now, whenever i look at the ring (which i wear on my right ring finger), it reminds me of my mom; and i certainly don't want to be reminded of my mom when i engage in my illicit sexual exploits - not that i engage in any by the way, i'm just saying.