0703'12

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Written on 5 March, Monday, posted today (2 days later):

As I type this, I'm not sitting in front of my computer as I normally do when I write my blogposts. I am instead on the way to school (yes at 1.55pm, cos my school is cool like that) for my learning journey, typing away on my tablet. This is not going to be updated real-time though, due to the lack of 3G or wifi resources currently.

Now now, I've chosen to take the hour long bus ride instead of the presumably faster MRT route namely because it's raining now and well, don't you think raindrops splashing against the bus window create such a romantic and reflective ambiance? Truth be told, I'm actually  really flustered and worried right now cos it's already 2pm but I'm only in the Ang Mo Kio area, having less than 45 min to reach RGS. Perhaps, I should've realized earlier that the Singapore society (and economy) has no space for slow moving and sentimental creatures like myself.

All that aside, I think my writing style is actually a lot more different on a bus compared to a computer at home, with a ton of other distractions, tabs and music playing as I compose my post. Here it's just me, the raindrops, the tablet and peace (yeap, no rowdy teenagers here).

This atmosphere is really the perfect setting for me to do what I need to do - some serious soul searching. Alright, maybe the serious is redundant since I've never really  lost my soul in the first place, it's just that from the start, I've never really acquired proper control over my soul, to put it simply, I'd let it float. I let it float with my emotions, against what my mind tells me to, causing me to make certain wrong decisions (at times).

Alright, I'm feeling like a Literature student right now (perhaps due to the setting around me) and because I don't feel like baring my feelings and thoughts to the world (these are rather private issues, but I still feel like getting it out of my chest), I am going to write a poem to explain how I really felt about my various commitments in an indirect form. This is written in the last few minutes of my bus ride (I'm not going to edit it later) so yes it's definitely a bit strange and weird. It's also actually my first attempt in writing a poem voluntarily (not for school work). It's a free verse poem, so don't expect it to rhyme.


The swirls of colours,
Variety of sizes,
Such deliciously tempting sweet treats.
Risk a toothache, I take the risk,
Delightfully shaking as I grabbed a stick.

The first lick, oh how I remember
The fresh streak of colour on my tongue.

Control it seemed,
Was what I lacked.
Sugary saliva of rainbow colours,
Dripped down messily from the sides of my lips
Finally meeting at the tip of my chin.

Lick after lick, the taste felt the same.
Losing it's colour, streak after streak.

Pale shades of red, 'came pink then white
Same goes for blue, purple and yellow. 
The spectrum of colours blended like light
Alas the rainbow combined to white.
That sugary stick still sweet to the tongue
No longer filled with the same joy as before

The once-treat morphed.
T'was a chore.
High levels of sugar running in my blood,
As I reached the last bits of the sweet,
And licked the stick that held it all, clean.

All is over, I thought to myself.
Glancing at the rows of vibrant new sweets
Given the chance, I wouldn't really mind,
Doing it all,
All over again. 


I think the overall meaning's quite straightforward but there's little little tiny details oh goodness this is such a  strange and heavy post, I have no idea why bus journeys make people write random and weird stuff. 

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