Tuesday, March 4, 2008
WTF
@ 4:06 PM
I would need like $256 to buy all the Muderous Math books I found in Jurong East Popular Bookshop.
I feel cursed. More like people are cursed upon me. For more details, please feel free to not ask me.
Screwed for Physics test. In advance.
I chased myself out of the auditorium voluntarily, fearing that the damn fierce person will chase me out of the auditorium again. And, if he remembers me, die die.
Do they allow people to sit in? Do they allow poor wandering souls like me to have a temporary place to hang out, and appreciate the feelings of mankind? Do they allow aliens like me, who just wants to know someone, something, somewhere, to stay there for a short while before I return to my little planet, far far away from Earth?
Set The Fire To The Third Bar (with Martha Wainwright) lyrics
I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from here to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My finger in creases of distant dark places
I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science
Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
After I have travelled so far
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids
And dreaming, pick up from
The last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping
A joy you can't keep in
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
And miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
What is my aim, what do I yearn to achieve, by staying in school all the way till 7.15pm?
What will be the outcome, what will be my fate, after I had stayed in school all the way till 7.15pm?
I do not have an answer. You do not have the answer. We all do not have an asnwer.
Frozen hands, melting snow.
Who are we to decide fate?
We do not decide fate. We ourselves is the fate. To live, or to die. The fate, is us.
My brain juices have been greatly not exploited on.
I feel cursed. More like people are cursed upon me. For more details, please feel free to not ask me.
Screwed for Physics test. In advance.
I chased myself out of the auditorium voluntarily, fearing that the damn fierce person will chase me out of the auditorium again. And, if he remembers me, die die.
Do they allow people to sit in? Do they allow poor wandering souls like me to have a temporary place to hang out, and appreciate the feelings of mankind? Do they allow aliens like me, who just wants to know someone, something, somewhere, to stay there for a short while before I return to my little planet, far far away from Earth?
Set The Fire To The Third Bar (with Martha Wainwright) lyrics
I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from here to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My finger in creases of distant dark places
I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science
Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
After I have travelled so far
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids
And dreaming, pick up from
The last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping
A joy you can't keep in
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
And miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
What is my aim, what do I yearn to achieve, by staying in school all the way till 7.15pm?
What will be the outcome, what will be my fate, after I had stayed in school all the way till 7.15pm?
I do not have an answer. You do not have the answer. We all do not have an asnwer.
Frozen hands, melting snow.
Who are we to decide fate?
We do not decide fate. We ourselves is the fate. To live, or to die. The fate, is us.
My brain juices have been greatly not exploited on.