Whistles
28 more days to set this year right.
After dinner with the band that night I walked down to Dhoby Ghaut. And outside Plaza Sing, there were this array of trees dressed in tiny lights, and they shimmered in eyes of glowing gold. Beneath them were so many couples, and good friends, and mothers and their handheld children, some laughing, some taking pictures. And one of them just holding hands beneath the wide arms of gold and smiling at each other. I see their shadows blend into one before the dazzle, their eyes weren't visible in the darkness, but their love was to me.
Christmas is really coming. And it's time to be jovial and merry. Looking about all these things, really gotta wonder how christmas this year will be like. It should be a lonely one.
Life is simple. Life is complicated at the same time.
I'm tired. Tired of all this.
28 days before this year finally comes to a close.
And it already has been a dramatic period of time.
I don't want to pick fights anymore. I don't want to battle for my stand, and against myself, and against the people around anymore. Some things don't change, and they never will, and I don't want to be sympathized or patronized. What right do i have to break happiness, so that I get a brief gasp of compassion and understanding, and then let things go back to how it was? I don't have the right. I don't deserve to have my feelings known.
I'm just glad that some things don't change. Some friends still come back to you at the end of the day to hear your advice and trust you to make the days ahead it sound better.
It's an evening where the urge of sleep comes hauntingly, listening to the sounds of Jason Morant's rough vocals as he sings his love song to God, wishing I had that faith to sing it too. Listening to the ghostly sounds of the girl whose sings with Damien Rice in 9 Crimes. I feel like dreaming. Dreaming of a better life, a better cause somewhere else. The skies are darkening, another day is gently falling asleep. Another turn of the clock, another 12 hours of quiet sounds and hushed movements.
Another lapse of time to ponder, consider, wonder, my friends.
28 more days to set this year right.