get over you

obsessively, i sprawl through all of your old blogs. memories. fleeting. one day from 365 days of a year. and perhaps only 3 hours of the day, succinct, relayed in your blogs. or what used to be.

i do this almost everyday.

and then, i would go to your friendster profile. there, your familiar, big, warm smile would be smiling back at me. friendly, warm and kind. how long has it been my dear? since we last laughed together or talked?

sometimes, i would randomly get the urge to just lay back. and slowly but surely, relive each and every single one of our most prominent moments, or perhaps what i can recall most now. as my memory starts to fail. as our memories start to fade.

i hold onto them. cling on for dear life and refuse to let go. beauty is transient. beauty is but short-lived. i have to force myself to remember all this beauty. for humans are but infallible and prone to err and sin. age, time and the hustle and bustle of daily life all but too soon neglect the once pure, innocent and basic beauty of what we call love and pure emotion.

sometimes too. or perhaps most times, i tend to drink. i wish i could drink and drink and drink and fall slowly into a slumber that i would never wake from, where you and me still exist, where we still laugh happily.and then i'd turn over, and the first person i see when i wake is you. you with your crooked grin.

i remember how you used to be so conscious of your toes.

sometimes, i find i'd stop short in my tracks. pause. heave a sigh. and move on. with whatever i'm doing at that point of time of course.

i wish. oh how i wish.

i wish i could get over you. not call your old number to say hello, and my heart would skip a few beats faster, just as it always did, when i used to call you in the past and got through to you on the phone. now, all i need to hear is hello. satisfied, i would then hang up. tear a little. and carry on with my daily life.

i wish i could get over you.

i'd do anything to preserve these memories


for as long as they last.


now it's just them and me


and no one else.


yes i'm a loser and a wimp


and i'd give up my pride


just to hear you reject me once again.


and i should really stop it


but i don't know how to


i keep staring at your old blog


the one with photos


and although the hurt's not as bad


as when I was at St James and saw your car


You denied me salvation


but i realise


i'm grieving because of how much i love you.


and you may not ever realise this


but don't you ever


find that


sometimes


for some people


the brain, the heart and the body don't work together


and i know it's no excuse


and i'm not trying to justify anything


Tyler Leow Yu Qing, shut up.

obsessed

i wish everyonecould see every kind of light


and i don't know why


i am so obsessed


with you


when i already know


that there's nothingin the end.

Swensens

Sales galore. Shops everywhere. Orchard Road. . Adidas originals. Polo Ralph Lauren. Aldo. Swensens. I see your image everywhere.

Was finding a place to chill when I eventually ended up here. Well, this place’s got no wireless so I’m just typing down my random thoughts. Of you. I don’t know why but I spent the whole day thinking of you.

You. Your laughter. Your smell. Your smile. Your body. Next to mine. Close. Skin on skin. And I actually felt for a second, perhaps many, that I missed you. Miss you? Missed you. I think. I don’t know why I feel this way. I’m trying to stop myself. To hate you. As much as I do. I still think of you. And as I was finding a place to chill, I ended up here. Back where it all began. Back where we always were. And I am at orchard. Lovely place. Lovely ice cream place. Things have changed so much though. And I imagine you would love being here. Nice touristss. People that I adore.

I don’t know why but my legs just took me here. Wasn’t thinking. At all. No specifics in mind. Instinctively, just walked to Outram MRT, took a look, reminisced and left. How things have changed.

And I don’t know why but I miss you. I wouldn’t say there’s an urge to be near you or to be with you. I just miss you.And Euphe says love is blind.

I guess it really is. And I know it’s stupid of me to miss you because you probably don’t miss me. Much less think about me. Hate me perhaps. But I cannot imagine that after so long, I still can think that I love you. Perhaps I really do love you. You can deny it. But I do. Perhaps you were just looking for an excuse to break up. To leave. As I felt you always did, as I felt you neglected me. I wonder if you remembered me telling you that if you didn’t treasure me, I would leave. Maybe you think I don’t treasure you.In my own way, I really do. I really loved you.

I am afraid to say the word “love” in the present tense for it hurts. Stupidity hurts.

“love is blind wad. You take both the good and the bad.”

Gerrie sometimes actually makes a lot of sense.As much as I know she’s not for me, I think it actually fills up the void. But without you, it’s not the same. I don’t think I can find another person like you anyway. To understand me and to have the same interests as me. I really want to go to France. You would too. Love the fashion, the sights, the sounds, the culture, the heritage, the tradition, the rich, the poor, the romance, the clean, the grime. Always wanted to go to France. And then perhaps backpack around Europe.“ Sometimes I think that it’s sad true love has to give way to practicality.

Passion kills and passion hurts. But love is passionate. Yet love is passionate.

I don’t think I will ever love again.
In that way at least.
Literally.
Ever.

I’ve morphed into the person I’ve always hated to become. And yet here I am now.For reasons unexplained.Shaped by life and its circumstances.And a part of me will always wonder What if.

Perhaps that’s a phase most people go through.
Perhaps everyone.
But then there are always this lucky few who experience love
Passionate
With all its hurt
And stick with it
And I respect them
Because I admire the courage
They have to do so.
Although some may appear as fools
But aren’t all lovers?
Fools in love?

And yet
I love you.
And it feels funny to have someone else call my name
For your voice still rings in my ear.
Yet I know I cannot love you.
Because you don’t love me.
And to continue doing so
Would be stupidity
But love is blind
And I am a fool.
I feel old.
Things have changed.
The past, the present.Mos, ZOUK, TANTRIC, HAPPY.
All are but fleeting images of my youth.
it had to end though.
All is left but wistfulness and nostalgia.

Left Swensens alone.Funny how time flies.We left Swensens together.And this almost feels like a movie.

Because I can see you and me
Where I solitarily stand now.

silent movie

and it plays like a silent movie

in my head.

and i wish

i just wish

and

i'd give anything

anythingto be back

to then.

i don't know how to love you when you're already gone

Sometimes although you know it's gone for good
and part of you knows it ain't ever coming back
part of you also wishes it will.
Well then baby, that translates to the long goodbye.
I guess it's goodbye for forever my love.
or what you once were and used to be.
and memories still flash in my head
here and there
now and then
and sometimes
just sometimes
at my most vulnerable
or perhaps susceptible
i'd still shed a tear or two for you
although i know you don't really care.
cos you're happy now.
and i'm happy you're happy.
but now and then
just sometimes
you'll never know this
but i still do think of you
sometimes i feel pain and heartache
and i'd cry
sometimes i don't feel a thing
just silent moving pictures in my head
or movie stills from photographs
particularly that one we took at the bus stop
and i dont think you'll ever know which
but just that one
i think it was the first we ever took
all innocence and naivety
youth.
and then i'd think about it
and heave a sigh
and then i'd keep a straight face
blinking once or twice
from the memory
and move on with my life
and whatever i was supposed to do.

i don't know how to love you when you're already gone

DESMOND


AND


FRANCE


ARE


PERFECT


TOGETHER