Faux sleep

In the morning…

After you have rushing a 4,000 words essay through the night, don’t you find your fingers getting numbed when the morning comes? You aim for the letter A but you struck S instead. Another S.

Damn.

And right after you handed in the essay, you no longer feel so sleepy anymore. It’s as if you have slept the entire night.

…a thought from my university days

Fall

Photo: Ferch

Softly curled

F
a
l
l
i
n
g
gently

Piled around her shoulders,
sensously

An Eden beyond my reckoning,

Beckoning

(poems written on paper serviettes)

I like

Photo: Eduardo Kobra

I like

scuba diving, green apples, red apples, all sorts of fruit except starfruits, running forward while letting my rationality stay behind, sometimes hitting the gym, the smell of freshly baked bread, good bread (but not breadtalk), stars flickering in the sky but not being blocked by HDB flats, an azure Singaporean skyline without hideous HDB flats, a Singapore with less people, an island that’s really an island – sandy beaches and coconut trees with a gorgeous sea, good tunes with discernible beats, all sorts of music but not jazz please, L’Arc~en~Ciel and X-Japan, a lot of manga and anime, Japanese culture, daifuku, Japanese red bean should rule the world, an ordinary but fulfilling life, happiness, universal love, Volkswagen Kombi, manual cars, never-ending roads with no cars, empty streets, empty HDB flats, empty Singapore, my friends, my colleagues, my colleagues who are also friends, categories, dichotomies, typologies, Lacan and Freud, pseudo-intellectuals, random bits of knowledge, instant noodles with an egg and luncheon meat, espresso, English breakfast tea, 24-hour breakfasts, places that serve 24-hour breakfasts, quiet cafes, That CD shop in front of Pacific Plaza, that 24-hour Starbucks in front of That CD shop in front of Pacific Plaza, double chocolate chip cookies from Subway, Breakfast King from Burger King, sometimes fries and double cheeseburger from Macs, Late Night Alumni’s Empty Streets (Original Mix), Love Generation, intense talks with friends, liking nobody and everybody at once, liking women.

I like
the smell of paper, the smell of Monocle, that English paper, the smell of freshly shampooed hair, the look of that damp hair hanging, touching the shirt ever so gently and leaving a patch of their existence behind. I like French and Japanese languages, French and Japanese people, travelling to unknown places alone, savouring cuisines, driving, the alienated feel of cars, the ridiculousness of this society.

Because I like so many things

I think I like
having no favourite colours, having no favourites, having nothing fixed about what I like and liking your smile when I look at you.

I like these small little things in my life.

What do you like?