Things have been moving along at breakneck speed these past couple of weeks. Some not as fast as I would have liked, others a blazing blur of activities and snappy (but thought out) decisions. Being able to get a breather, sit back and reflect is a pleasant change.
Got round to doing Lasik at long last. Haha all in one day in fact. I figured it'd be a nice fresh, almost celebratory start to a new era. A hasty yet well planned decision (all 10 mins of it) taken after receiving the excellent check up results. No unwelcome gifts from that creep of a toad.
An end to all that mind boggling drama and ridiculous antics from the psychotic creep. It felt like a very prolonged and painful version of the Bad Sex episode, just more ridiculous. The kind of drama and rubbish you see in your average chinese/ korean drama. I never in my wildest nightmares imagined that I'd be stuck in one. Who would have known anyone could be that unstable, that delusional and criminal minded for so long? I probably sent him to jail. But I have no regrets, he was unrepentant and psychotic to the very end.
Unfortunately, a couple of friends also broke up during this period of time and my heart (or what's left of it that I can spare) goes out to them. Thankfully, their breakups were nowhere as drama-filled or ridiculous as mine. Good things happened too, a dear friend finally got attached at long last, grats jjulesz babe. :P
For now, just gonna focus on the things which matter to me. Enjoy the company of friends, do the things I like and yes, live life like I love it.
"If I said I want your body now Would you hold it against me
Cause you feel like paradise And I need a vacation tonight So if I said I want your body now Would you hold it against me.."
Looking back at the most recent posts, I realized that they've largely either been the depressive emo kind or invariably start off along the lines of "I haven't blogged for so long but here's what's happened so far". The emo depressive posts, on hindsight, are a little too emo for my liking; painting the picture of an emotionally challenged individual beset by many unhappy issues. Though that was how I truly felt then. And it was just many problems caused by a single individual. Who is no longer in a position to give any more problems or make my life miserable. Amazing how the simplest and most efficient solution can sometimes be the hardest to make. Even if it's there, screaming at you in the face.
Sometimes you scream back in the hope that it'll shut up when really the solution (so,sometimes and after due consideration) is to embrace it. Treating the problems often work though if it's something more pervasive and entrenched, removing the tumor is the only solution. But I digress. No qualms about using the same old phrase for the simple reason that it's true. A little uncreative perhaps but no one dies from a lack of original prose. From boredom perhaps. But I doubt reading the same line for three consecutive posts is going to send anyone into cardiac arrest. And thus I begin
I havent blogged for a while, for which i make no apologies, and yes loads has happened since. Dirty men getting dirtier, the rise and fall of a tumultuous relationship, forging of greater bonds with friends(some people have a rubber definition of such, and they are usually the saddest sort of sods around), some very unwanted drama and the contrast between friends who are there for you and "friends" who are volatile and seem to think the only way to get your attention is to make your life miserable.
If anything these past few months have reiterated the deeply held notion that talk is cheap if not backed up by sincerity and the basic tenet of honesty. Incidental to this was the mild sense of disbelief that the notion that something should never be said and once said, the necessary consequences must be paid, was alien to some. Just as baffling if not more so was the discovery that for some lying was Not meant to simply deceive but a necessary activity to 'allay and comfort' others while hopefully magically resolving all problems. You know you have a serious serious problem when the other half has no problems lying through his/her teeth because he genuinely thinks that's the best for you and the relationship. Bullocks.
Which kind of reminds me of that oldies song with the refrain that goes "..tell me lies tell me sweet little lies baby baby tell me lies.." Anyone in his/her right frame of mind who wants to be lied to should be sent to the asylum. I can understand the classic " do I look fat in this?" dilemma. But anything else is clearly unacceptable. At the end of the day, I've come to realize that it is ESSENTIAL that you be on the same page with your partner on the fundamental issues which to me includes trust and honesty. It may not be SUFFICIENT to keep a relationship going but it is essential. A splendid house built on sand collapses sooner or later. And I wish I could say ours was splendid. It was great at the good times, a semi-d at serangoon gardens perhaps. Certainly not a nassim road mansion. But that's life and the experiences are not something I regret. As David often stoically puts it, cest la vie.
Enjoying life with friends and doing the things I've always enjoyed is a refreshing change and I would say I've been able to move on relatively quickly. Even chatting with an affable dude I'd lost touch with since last year but taking things slow. The goal may be the destination but the fun's all in the journey:)
In other news been ktving quite a fair bit thanks to you know who you peeps are(hugggz) and trying ( but failing haha) to brush up on my Chinese for the cheena songs in the process. Current FOTM( flavor of the month:)) include songs by the hottie Andy hui and Faye Wong :) Haven't neglected the English hits though, current favorite on repeat on the playlist is raunchy Rihanna's S&M. Fantastic MTV to boot haha Rihanna is my goddess...right after Gaga :)
"I may be bad but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I dont care I like the smell of it. Stick and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me. " ;)
And no I'm not into S&M but I loveeee this song! Nananana come on!;)
Settled down. It's been a tempestuous couple of weeks. Generally on that continuing high, the mundane aspect of chores and settling various household necessities not detracting from that high. On the contrary, it's become an enjoyable routine of sorts, the sense of ownership ironically present now where it was once lacking. Even the occasional visits to and interactions with the Family have changed slightly. Less abrasive though no less naggy replete with the usual bigoted narrow minded ravings about homosexuality & low income neighbourhoods. But whatever.
These few months, I've come to appreciate the value and camaraderie of true friendships, unpretentious and sincere warmth, the sincerity and desire to aid without the sarcasm, 2-faced backbiting and self-serving manipulations. Reviving old friendships and forging new ones. Promulgating dissension in a divide and control strategy might be a good strategy for subjugating your enemies. It certainly has no place in friendships.
In other news, the KTV bug is still going strong. Hur hur. We have an extensive repertoire now. Doubt they were quite expecting the gospel-ish 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot' Hahaha. Finally found that song by Sandy Lam, which reminds me, I should get round to finding Sandy Lam's delicious recipe for Fried Freshwater Prawns. I'll probably get her 'My Shanghai' cookbook too. Yummms.
Time is a paradox. Not the concept (and I'm not talking about the mechanics of time), that is easy enough to grasp. The inexorable march of Time, that Time and tide wait for no man or inanimate object for that matter. The physical impact of Time and its inescapable effect on the material universe is a reality we come to comprehend and accept (to varying degrees) early on in life.
Rather, it is the impact or effect of Time on the intangible things of life such as relationships and love wherein Time is an enigma, a paradox. It is this enigmatic allure of Time that spawns the myriad phrases, idioms, nuggets of wisdom about Time that we are familiar with. For Man is always fascinated by what we cannot comprehend and we seek to define what we do not understand in the hope that by setting certain parameters, by making observations about the few applicable truisms; we are able to impose a clear definition on what is essentially undefinable. Much like the proverbial shoving of a round peg into a square hole.
Yet we draw what comfort we can from our paltry definitions, making the best we can of our observations of the duality of the impact of Time on the intangible things in life that are dear to us. What is Time? Seconds extending into minutes into hours into days into weeks, into years. A continuum of reality that goes ever forward, never backward (at least not yet). What is the effect of Time? There is no satisfactory, all conclusive or remotely acceptable answer.
Take the impact of Time on relationships. We have oft heard of the tongue-in-cheek phrase that "Time is a great healer but a terrible beautician". Time may be a salve to soothe and heal the raw wounds inflicted by an unpleasant breakup or altercation. A convenient amnesia fickle in its embrace or a carefully constructed defence elaborate in deception, tough on the exterior, brittle within. I would think a genuine healing and acceptance of sorts would only be achieved if the parties involved have come to terms with the reality of the situation, are fully apprised of all the relevant issues and reached a tacit understanding on their respective positions and the need to move on.
Yet Time can exacerbate the distance in a relationship or friendship, can deepen the misunderstanding, the animosity and ultimately the indifference. For issues left unresolved or untreated, the failure to discuss or communicate with a view towards sincerely resolving the issue(s) is like glossing over an untreated wound. Which slowly but surely festers and poisons the entire relationship. Time and tide wait for no man or relationship, friendship or otherwise, soured by unresolved issues, poisoned by insincerity, destroyed by apathy.
Time the great ravager of men's ambitions, destroyer of great monuments, grandiose cities erected by men to last through time. But Time has the last laugh as citadels crumble, civilizations collapse, their claim to grandeur and all memory lost with the shifting sands of Time. Time that exalts, propagates and celebrates the greatness of individuals, concepts, ideas and religion. Time that deifies, reveres and exalts the formerly mundane.
Time is a fickle master that promises much but guarantees nothing. Time's only predictability is its very existence and relentless onslaught. Still we live our lives ordered by Time, resigned to its governance, cognizant of its paradoxical effects, fascinated by the enigma. As Dion Boucicault aptly noted, "Men talk of killing Time, while Time quietly kills them." Indeed, the same way Time quietly kills relationships plagued by unresolved issues compounded by a lack of sincere communication and poisoned by indifference.
Widor's Toccata from Symphony No 5 has always been to me akin to what I would imagine the relentless flow of time to sound like. This is one of the better versions. Like a vivacious burbling stream, constantly surging ahead, steady and triumphant. After all, it is Time and time is on its side.
Packing has become relatively less painful. Mainly because I decided to skip the hassle of packing toiletries and what not into impossibly finicky plastic bottles that are hard to fill and harder to keep from leaking. Damn things have a knack of leaking their contents at the most inopportune moments. Rather pay the extra $20 bucks. So the overnight bag looks a little like a stuffed chirozo now but that's fine since it's being checked in.
Actually, I'm rather pleased with the size of the bag considering my penchant for lugging along disproportionately large luggage for short holidays. Still, some quirks just won't change. like doing everything else but focusing on packing and always leaving something out after I think I'm done. The object of choice this time, the lube. As far as short holidays go, this Phuket trip will be a good break. To get away from work and all the nonsense.
On a wholly unrelated note, I've finally found that song I've been searching for these past couple of months ever since I heard the song again on gold 90fm after all these years. (20?- Seriously old haha) If you haven't already guessed by now, it's Expose's- Your Baby Never Looked Good in Blue.
I always thought it was My Baby never looks good with you. Haha. But there you have it, when you're 8 and you hear a nice song on the radio , sometimes you don't always catch the lyrics correctly. Oxymoron I know. But well that's the way I was. Now excuse me while I set this song on replay on the iphone. The perfect don't-break-up-with-me song lol.
Expose - Your Baby Never Looked Good in Blue
You should hear what they're sayin' about you You should see the way they talk behind my back They say that you've found another and that you're gonna leave But you wouldn't do that to me . . . So
Say it ain't true The things that they've been saying They say that you've found Someone new But don't break my heart (don't break my heart) Cos your baby never looked good in blue Your baby never looked good in blue
In the morning, staring into your eyes Your eyes look everywhere Everywhere but mine (everywhere but mine) And darlin' I've got a feeling that the tears are gonna start And losing you would tear my world apart So . . .
Say it ain't true The things that they've been saying They say that you've found Someone new But don't break my heart (don't break my heart) Cos your baby never looked good in blue Your baby never looked good in blue
Tell me you still love me Show me you're still mine Don't tell me there's somebody new Cos you don't wanna see your baby cry
Ooh, ooh, ooh No, no, no, no, no
Say it ain't true The things that they've been saying They say that you've found Someone new But don't break my heart (don't break my heart) Cos your baby never looked good in blue Your baby never looked good in blue
Your baby never looked good in blue (No, baby) Your baby never looked good in blue (Don't make me blue) Your baby never looked good in blue (Your baby) Your baby never looked good in blue (Never looked good in blue) Your baby never looked good in blue (No, no, no)
Gaming is so therapeutic. Fuck the naysayers who think otherwise. I mean how can going on a rampage and slaughtering creeps and human players alike not be therapeutic??? The instant high or quick shot of adrenalin after a couple of well spammed spells or attacks destroys an opposing human player replete with the added voice overs (ie: Savage Sick, Ultimate warrior, serial killer, doooomination) is the gamer's equivalent of a mini orgasm.
As any gamer worth his salt would tell you, pwnage is so fun. Herores of Newerth is a good replacement, I haven't had so much fun since Tides of Blood and the maaaany versions of DoTA.
In other news, I can't seem to get Christina Aguilera's 'Not Myself Tonight' out of my head. I blame that banshee shriek. Haha watch and bewitched by her MV. You go girl!
Inspiration's a funny thing. When you're inspired, you feel exuberant, empowered and the creative juices flow abundantly, seemingly ceaselessly. Then, when like the fickle mistress she is, Inspiration flees, you're left apathetic and feeling drier than the Sahara. Suspended in a state of blah.
I've been singularly uninspired these past few weeks. I can't tell whether it's the drudgery of work, the ongoing fascination with eBay or the lack of stimulating company (and no don't bother reading anything into this because chances are, it's probably not what you think it is). Probably a bit of everything. Different factors which build up to form a debilitating malaise of sort. The kind that makes you do the mental equivalent of a glassy eyed stare with drool leaking out from the slightly down-turned corner of your mouth.
Still, there's no cure, no automatic stimulant to evoke inspiration and rouse one from the mental stupor induced by the utter lack of inspiration. Sometimes, all one can do is to wait until that fickle mistress returns to your arms for another passionate sojourn before the cycle repeats itself all over again.
On an wholly unrelated note, an individual from the Gang has left for (presumably) greener pastures. A fact bemoaned by some, bewilderment by others and mild amusement by yet more. The dynamics have changed, nothing will ever be the same again! An individual in the first (though more likely second) category uttered. Of course it will, though not necessarily for the worse hahaha.
But that's the way it is. People change like the seasons. Things change. You live with it, the way it is, and adapt accordingly. And for the few who bemoan the changes, lock themselves away from the world to mourn the passing of an era, the same that make idle talk about whiling away the time as the world passes on uncaring, it's time to get over the self-pity and move on. As Dion Boucicault aptly put it, "Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them."
Get moving, for we are young (for now) and time is not on our side.
Kick Ass (We are Young) by Mika(On another random note, I just realised Mika looks like a leaner younger version of Jeremy Irons, yum. haha)
We are young We are strong We're not looking for where we belong
We're not cool We are free And we're running with blood on our knees
We could rule the world On a silver platter From the wrong to the right light To an open stream
With a crash and burn We could make it better Turn it upside down Just you and me
We are the dream No other way To be
We are young We are strong We're not looking for where we belong
We're not cool We are free And we're running with blood on our knees
I could change the world I could make it better Kick it up and down Take a chance on me
When you fake a smile And you think you're better Gonna put it down Rip it at your feet
No bridge to burn Nowhere to turn For me
We are young We are strong We're not looking for where we belong
We're not cool We are free And we're running with blood on our knees
What do they know about us? Are they thinking of somebody else? Are they wondering what we might be? Are they thinking of you or of me?
We are young We are strong We're not looking for where we belong
We're not cool We are free And we're running with blood on our knees
I've always had a love-hate relationship with boybands and their songs. Love the songs because they're so singable and easy to relate to, kind of like a convenient pick-me-up. Hate them because they're so cheesy, emoish and more often than not, when one listens to them at a point of time when you feel you can relate to the song(s), you end up feeling worse than before. There is some innate quality in the said songs that fuels emo-ness when it's least wanted.
Giant was playing a whole slew of Westlife hits. I can only imagine some aunty must have control over the music system for the night. Not the usual kind of piped in radio music you'd hear at NTUC but still I guess I've heard worse (i.e Richard Clayderman at the now defunct (in Singapore) Yaohan). Apart from the occasional song played over radio, it's been years since I last listened to Westlife.
And this particular song just got stuck in my head. Not entirely apt because I've never (since then) been in love but pretty indicative of the general mood otherwise. Can't eat your cake and have it. Can't go cold turkey and expect gravy on the side. Can't preach peace and expect it to follow. Quid pro quo.
Fool again- Westlife
Baby, I know the story, I've seen the picture, it's written all over your face Tell me, what's the secret that you've been hiding? And who's gonna take my place? I should have seen it coming, I should have read the signs Anyway, I guess it's over
Chorus: Can't believe that I'm a fool again I thought this love would never end, how was I to know? You never told me Can't believe that I'm a fool again, and I who thought you were my friend, how was I to know? You never told me
Baby, you should've called me, when you were lonely, when you needed me to be there Sadly, you never gave me too many chances to show you how much I care Ooh, should have seen it coming, I should have read the signs Anyway, I guess it's over
Chorus
About the pain and the tears Ooh, If I could, I would, turn back the time Ooh yeah I should have seen it coming I should have read the signs Anyway, I guess it's over
Gotta buck up on my jap. Stumped by last week's worksheet. Which is not a good sign.
Life's a funny thing. Tracks once presumed to be permanent and steadfast abruptly disintegrate into nothingness and the momentum of a friendship, a relationship, a continuum of interactions grinds to an abrupt jarring halt. Doors close. New ones, never before envisaged, open. Old trains get derailed. New trains set off for an as of yet unknown destination.
Funny that a person as nonreligious as I should be dating a person who's an ardent catholic. Though I've always believed that religion should never be an issue in a relationship and that was one of the first few things we clarified. Though I must confess that for a nonreligious person, I enjoy black gospel songs, often having an inexplicable urge to burst into song when listening to them.
For one, I find them incredibly uplifting and joyful. For another, the sheer power of a choir, a band of people singing in harmony is undeniable. Sometimes, just sometimes, I think there's a black gospel choir woman in me just screaming to get out. Ha ha.
I love this song. It's joyful, exuberant and always uplifting. Turn up the volume and let the inner black woman/man sing. ^^ O Happy Saturday!!!
Oh Happy Day by the Choeur Gospel Celebration de Quebec & Sylvie Degroseilliers
Ironic how the first entry of the new year is some pathetic, morose entry about the past and an issue I thought I'd never raise again. The more pan-tang (superstitious) peeps would probably say it does not bode well to start the new year on a negative note. But strictly speaking I never started the year morose though it was a little disheartening on a totally separate issue which shall not be addressed. More importantly, I've never given a damn about stupid superstitions and I'll be damned if my blogging is determined by anything other than the urge to write, let alone some lame ass superstitious crap.
Writing, when the urge to do so arises, has always been kinda therapeutic to me. The act of putting my thoughts (be they rantings, musings or random stuff) to paper (figuratively speaking of course) and crafting sense from inchoate thoughts, a satisfaction of sorts. Writing also exorcises the demons within, burning thoughts and emotions that seethe and roil within until expunged by writing about the same. And there they remain a snap shot in time, the intensity of thoughts and emotions alike as palpable as the day I first wrote it. For better or worse.
I write not to entertain. I write not to titillate. It matters not to me whether you read what I write or hate what I write. I write because I need to.
I'd always figured I'd moved on from Sean. I still do in a way. The memory of his face has grown fuzzy with time, the many pleasant memories of times we spent together a distant warm yet faded glow somewhere in the inner recesses of my mind. Thoughts of him would no longer come unbidden to my mind. On the contrary, apart from the occasional moments where I'd consciously wonder what he's doing now, Sean was never on my mind. It'd progressed to the extent that I was even comfortable with chatting amicably with him on msn, something which would have been unthinkable a year ago.
It's not like we became best friends (Ex-es to me, no matter how hard I try [and I must confess I've never tried very hard] always remain exes ). I can count the number of times we chatted on MSN n exchanged a couple of smses on one hand. So it was inexplicably frustrating and upsetting when I felt like utter crap after he told me he was attached. I can honestly say I was happy (of sorts) for him, there was no rancour, ill will or bitterness. I was genuinely happy that he had found someone else. But that didn't explain why I felt (and still do to a lesser extent) like shit. I mean I have no reason to feel this way.
I've never really wanted to conduct a post-mortem dissection of the relationship or how to move on from there. As far as I was concerned, moving on was all that mattered and all I really wanted. Some bones, if any, are best left buried. Though perhaps in hindsight I'd never dug further for fear of finding what I'd find.
It's been almost 2 years and I'm pretty sure I've moved on. I just don't quite like the place I've moved into. Not that moving back is/was ever an option of course. That bridge was burnt long ago. I know all the benefits of singlehood, I repeat them like a mantra everytime just to convince myself when I feel the dissatisfaction creeping in. Freedom, more time to hang with friends, the lack of responsibilities and obligations, you name it, I've probably thought about it. But knowing something and feeling it is entirely different.
And right now I'm feeling it ain't so fun to be single. I guess I've always been the kind of person who prefers to have a partner, someone to share your life with, to love, laugh with and hold. Looking back, with the exception of the initial hormonal exploratory years, I've never been single for more than 6 months at a stretch. 2 years is an eternity. Not that I'll be hooking up for the sake of hooking up. If that was the case, I'd have done so at least a year ago after emerging from the self-imposed hiatus. Hooking up for the sake of being with someone whom you're not even attracted to is a recipe for disaster and simply retarded.
Seeking solace in the arms of a stranger is all very nice and dandy if you're looking for ONS but not for a relationship. A terrible relationship is worse than being single for sure. Still, it's scant comfort at this moment. It's not everyday that you get to see a nice gay guy who attracts you (settle that part and you can at least work on the latter), in fact, it's damn rare. And the sad truth is that I'm not even remotely attracted to any of the guys I've met thus far. It's even sadder that some were attracted but the attraction could never be requited.
Things would be a lot easier if I were one of those peeps content and happy to remain in perpetual singlehood. I'm not. I hate it. But I'm not going to hook up with any guy for the sake of hooking up simply because the guy wants to be in a relationship & I want a partner. Relationships founded on convenience or pity can never last. Logically speaking, a person in my situation would be better off and should be happier staying single. But knowing something and feeling it are very different. And since when were matters of the heart logical?
I've always found this song from the lyrics to the tune hauntingly melancholic. Not really appropriate now but does it matter?
One of Us - ABBA
They passed me by All of those great romances You were, I felt Robbing me Of my rightful chances My picture clear Everything seemed so easy And so I dealt you the blow One of us had to go Now it's different I want you to know
One of us is crying One of us is lying In her lonely bed Staring at the ceiling Wishing she was somewhere else instead (no one else is achin' with a heart that's breakin') One of us is lonely One of us is only Waiting for a call Sorry for herself Feeling stupid Feeling small Wishing she had never left at all
I saw myself As a concealed attraction I felt you kept me away From the heat and the action Just like a child Stubborn and misconceiving That's how I started the show One of us had to go Now I've changed And I want you to know
One of us is crying One of us is lying In her lonely bed Staring at the ceiling Wishing she was somewhere else instead (no one else is achin' with a heart that's breakin') One of us is lonely One of us is only Waiting for a call Sorry for herself Feeling stupid Feeling small Wishing she had never left at all Never left at all
Staring at the ceiling Wishing she was somewhere else instead (no one else is achin' with a heart that's breakin') One of us is lonely One of us is only Waiting for a call Sorry for herself Feeling stupid Feeling small Wishing
I love going on trips. It's just the getting up which I hate. Or more specifically, packing. Just the act of cleaning that little mountain of clear bottles/jars and proportioning the necessary toiletries into the said thingamajigs is a fatigue inducing affair. You know how long it takes to wash those damn things, dry them and carefully portion out the 101 toiletries into them before packing it in? Long enough for fatigue to set in.
Don't get me wrong, I still love going on trips. And I'll still end up packing anyway even if it takes me all night to do so, usually cause I'm distracted by any other thing that doesn't relate to packing for the said trip. Finding old cds, downloading porn, on the phone with friends. You name it, I've done it. Well perhaps short of sex. Doubt I was ever distracted by sex while packing but that's mainly cause the opportunity doesn't present itself at 3am in the morning amid a pile of clothes, half of which you can't decide whether to fold, burn or pack.
But I digress. I love trips (in case you didn't know). I love trips which are sponsored even more. There is always something attractive about free stuff (and trips in particular) provided they don't come with too high a price (ie repulsive company which you wouldn't step out of bed for let alone go on a trip with). Work trips are perfectly fine (also depending on the company). I mean what's a bit of work if you get a nice all expenses paid trip (courtesy of client sans shopping of course) with good accommodation and expenses in return? Nothing seriously.
Besides given the rarity of such work trips given the composition of my work (you hardly ever go on any work trips while doing matri), such trips are a welcome change from office work. So I am actually looking forward to the work trip with the ex PM (pupilmast) in Hanoi from Wed to the weekend. That coupled with the saggi bros upcoming bash the following Wed and the Japan trip the following Sat means the next two weeks are jam packed with fun and the need to pack.
I never know what to pack seriously. And more often than not after I'm finally done packing, I always have this nagging feeling that I've forgotten something. Which usually turns out to be true. Not the important stuff of course, passport, money, keys all survive the check before you leave the house checklist. Usually it's random stuff like my shaver, cologne, toothbrush. Nothing that's irreplaceable, just a matter of the cost of replacing those items. Not to mention the annoyance factor.
So it was that I was lamenting to JL about the fatigue-inducing ills of packing over msn and offering her a sum if she'd pack for me. Imagine a neatly packed bag with everything you need without the hassle of worrying what goes in and what stays out. Sheer bliss. I was still on Step 2 of the Packing Toiletries routine which can be summed up as follows:
Packing Toiletries (aelgtoer style)
Step 1: Clean them bottles/jars/thingamajigs
Step 2: Dry the thingamajigs thoroughly. This means quite a few wads of tissue paper.
Step 3: Select necessary toiletries. Proportion sum. Pour into thingamajigs.
Step 4: Paste little neat labels stating the contents of whatever fluid/cream/etc are in that particular thingamajig on the correct thingamajig.
Step 5: Pack toiletries into toiletry bag.
Which was when JL said that I should learn about packing light from her. Good thing I was still at Step 2, else I would have bungled up the proportioning bit from all the laughing. To understand why, I've included a tiny excerpt of our conversation. :)
JL says (12:23 AM):
omgomgomgomgomg eh pack light ah hahahaha must learn from me HAHAHA OMG SUCH AN IRONY
u who brought your entire bathroom for a one night stay!!!! dies of laughter
JL; says (12:26 AM):
go and die la you! WAH LAO
Yes so if you want an expert in packing your entire house for one trip I'd recommend JL :) Proportioning toiletries into little bottles is so passe and inconvenient when you can just bring the jumbo pack of shampoo/face wash/moisturizer (insert desired toiletry) along. Hahahaha. Nvm stilllll love my crrrazzzy gf anyway. hahaha
Which reminds me. I'm still at Step 2 of the Packing Toiletries Routine. Omfg.
Excuse me while I blast some Pink. I'm not here for your entertainment, you don't really want to mess with me tonight! Not when I'm packing. Hahaha.
Lady Gaga, you either Love her or you Hate her. Her music, her videos, her fashion sense, her eccentricity, her everything. She so totally personifies Gaga-ness. I still remember back when I gave a friend who was raving about Lady Gaga, a very blank look, and he went 'OMFG how can you not know about Lady Gaga? I mean are you like 70 or what?'
So well, yes now I do know about her. Stumbling on the music video of her latest single, Bad Romance, thanks to Tom Wright's tweet was a pleasant surprise. I couldn't help but be enthralled by the bizarreness of the MV so much so that I watched it 5 times in a row, possibly much to the yakky roomie's consternation. At the end of it all, I still couldn't say with certainty whether I was repulsed by the whole video but remained inexplicably drawn in rapt horror or I really loved it to bits, eccentricity, in-your-face outrageousness and all. What I did know was that I was fascinated. Inexplicably so.
Now I'm pretty certain it's the latter. As Tom tweeted, Lady Gaga - music and all, is the kind that grows on you once you allow it to. Bad Romance is no different. The moment at the end with sparks flying out from her madonna style conical bra beside a charred lover was brilliant.
Simply Gaga-tastic! Say it now, I'm a freak bitch baby!
Bad Romance - Lady Gaga
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Caught in a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Caught in a bad romance
Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-mamaa! Ga-ga-ooh-la-la! Want your bad romance
Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-mamaa! Ga-ga-ooh-la-la! Want your bad romance
I want your ugly I want your disease I want your everything As long as it’s free I want your love (Love-love-love I want your love)
I want your drama The touch of your hand I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand I want your love Love-love-love I want your love (Love-love-love I want your love)
You know that I want you And you know that I need you I want it bad, your bad romance
I want your love and I want your revenge You and me could write a bad romance (Oh-oh-oh--oh-oooh!) I want your love and All your lovers' revenge You and me could write a bad romance
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Caught in a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Caught in a bad romance
Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-mamaa! Ga-ga-ooh-la-la! Want your bad romance
I want your horror I want your design ‘Cause you’re a criminal As long as your mine I want your love (Love-love-love I want your love-uuhh)
I want your psycho Your vertigo stick Want you in my rear window Baby you're sick I want your love Love-love-love I want your love (Love-love-love I want your love)
You know that I want you ('Cause I'm a freak bitch baby!) And you know that I need you I want a bad, bad romance
I want your love and I want your revenge You and me could write a bad romance (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!) I want your love and All your lovers' revenge You and me could write a bad romance
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Caught in a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Caught in a bad romance
Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-mamaa! Ga-ga-ooh-la-la! Want your bad romance
Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-mamaa! Ga-ga-ooh-la-la! Want your bad romance
Walk, walk fashion baby Work it Move that bitch crazy
Walk, walk fashion baby Work it Move that bitch crazy
Walk, walk fashion baby Work it Move that bitch crazy
Walk, walk fashion baby Work it I'm a freak bitch, baby
I want your love and I want your revenge I want your love I don’t wanna be friends
Je veux ton amour Et je veux t'en revendre Je veux ton amour I don’t wanna be friends Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh! I don’t wanna be friends (Caught in a bad romance) I don’t wanna be friends Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh! Want your bad romance (Caught in a bad romance) Want your bad romance!
I want your love and I want your revenge You and me could write a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh! I want your love and All your lovers' revenge You and me could write a bad romance
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Want your bad romance (Caught in a bad romance) Want your bad romance
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Want your bad romance (Caught in a bad romance)
Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-mamaa! Ga-ga-ooh-la-la! Want your bad romance
Funny how common the two were in the past, the proliferation of boy bands and boyfriends ( though flings would be a more apt description), now nothing more than quirky memories which leave behind a bittersweet taste in the mouth. And no, I'm not referring to any bodily fluids if that's what you're wondering.
Like a strange dream you can't quite recall, the retrieved fragments of time a jumbled mosaic of competing sensations and emotions. Cemented by specific memories and that indescribable feeling of unassailable emotions entrenched with every single fragment. For Boybands, that sense of exasperation when trying to rip off the plastic wrapped discs, a kitschy mix of mushy sentimentalism and corny affirmation, angsty love. For boyfriends...well let's just say it depended on the individual in question and leave it at that.
Both now a thing of the past... for the foreseeable future. Though the latter resurfaced from the deep recesses of the mind when the Ex suddenly re-established contact on Sat to wish me a happy birthday. Strange but true. Though it's not something I'll be losing any sleep over.
Listening to Take That's Back For Good, I still remember when I thought Gary Barlow was hot. Those were the days, gone forever.
Although the shewolf didn't turn up (phew) due to a sudden and virulent bout of flu and sore throat, the night still turned out to be damn havoc, certainly one of the wilder ones I've had in a while.
To begin with, the Underworld theme which required us to come dressed (somewhat) as either vampires or werewolves set the tone for the rest of the night. Shopping with A. the night before for accessories and what not helped to put me in the mood. Nothing like some proper accessories and a sense of satisfaction with one's outfit to get one prepped and happy.
I went with the slightly campy, vamp in paris look though for some reason the Gang seemed to be fixated on the metallic gothic sword pendant which they claimed was a crucifix and highly inappropriate for a vampire. Which is pure bosh because it's a sword, looks like one and the only similarity between it and a crucifix is its proportions. But we all had fun, even A. as Fluffy, the failed vampire slayer. A role specially invented for her cause she looked like neither a vampire nor a werewolf.
Dinner wasn't bad. I liked my cod though I remember being hampered by the jungle of wine glasses that obstructed easy access to the starters. It was the after dinner party at the Pump Room (Zirca sadly was closed for a private, lesbian party event) though that was damn havoc. Sufficiently sloshed with booze by the time we reached, the ex-PM's Flaming Lambo pushed me to a dangerous high. Another waterfall and I would have undoubtedly crashed, with an almost inevitable trip to the toilet to puke.
As it turns out, I didn't but suffered selective amnesia on the dance floor. Which is probably a good thing on hind sight. Apparently, I danced with half the people on the dance floor, did a lot of acrobatic moves which resulted in a serious wardrobe malfunction, pants that ripped along the ass seams. On the day when I chose to wear my jock straps.
Groped a lot, got groped a lot. Had my most 'private of parts' groped by a particular ahem, vampy, individual in the Gang who apparently leapt on the platform to engage in some serious dirty dancing with your truly. Thankfully, I have no recollection at all of the latter. The Gang got a full view of my naked butt cheeks which incidentally got groped by that same individual.
It is vaguely disturbing to know that she's the only other woman (other than the Mother) to have ever touched my bare ass. Which might explain why I simply cannot recall that part.
But all in all, a pretty damn havoc night. Certainly the first time my pants ever split along the seams from dancing. Which I have to admit was more than vigorous. Thanks for the night though guys, lurve ya!
Let's aim for Zirca for the Saggi - bros' upcoming birthday bash. This time I'll wear jeans.
Tik Tok goes the cock erm clock!
Tik Tok by Ke$ha
Wake up in the morning feeling like P Diddy (Hey, what up girl?) Grab my glasses, Im out the door - Im gonna hit this city (Lets go) Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack Cause when I leave for the night, I aint coming back Im talkin' pedicure on our toes, toes Trying on all our clothes, clothes Boys blowing up our phones, phones Drop-toping, playing our favorite cd's Pulling up to the parties Trying to get a little bit tips-eeerw
[CHORUS] Dont stop, make it pop DJ, blow my speakers up Tonight, Imma fight Til we see the sunlight Tick tock, on the clock But the party dont stop no Oah-oh wah oh Oah-oh wah oh
Dont stop, make it pop DJ, blow my speakers up Tonight, Imma fight Til we see the sunlight Tick tock, on the clock But the party dont stop no Oah-oh wah oh Oah-oh wah oh
Aint got a care in world, but got plenty of beer Aint got no money in my pocket, but Im already here Now, the dudes are lining up cause they hear we got swagger But we kick em to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger Im talkin' bout - everybody getting crunk, crunk Boys tryna touch my junk, junk Gonna smack him if he getting too drunk, drunk Now, now - we goin til they kick us out, out Or the police shut us down, down Police shut us down, down Po-po shut us - down/deerw
Dont stop, make it pop DJ, blow my speakers up Tonight, Ima fight Til we see the sunlight Tick tock, on the clock But the party dont stop no Oah-oh wah oh Oah-oh wah oh
Dont stop, make it pop DJ, blow my speakers up Tonight, Imma fight Til we see the sunlight Tick tock, on the clock But the party dont stop no Oah-oh wah oh Oah-oh wah oh
DJ, you build me up You break me down My heart, it pounds Yeah, you got me With my hands up You got me now You got that sound Yeah, you got me
DJ, you build me up You break me down My heart, it pounds Yeah, you got me With my hands up Put your hands up Put your hands uh-a-a-a-a-a-a
No, the party dont start till I walk in
Dont stop, make it pop DJ, blow my speakers up Tonight, Imma fight Til we see the sunlight Tick tock, on the clock But the party dont stop no Oah-oh wah oh Oah-oh wah oh
Dont stop, make it pop DJ, blow my speakers up Tonight, Imma fight Til we see the sunlight Tick tock, on the clock But the party dont stop no Oah-oh wah oh Oah-oh wah oh
The first induced by the post-Paranormal Activity trauma. Save for a couple of peeps who appear to think that the show was more stupid than scary, the general consensus from those who've watched the show so far is that it's pretty freaky, scary shit.
While it's true that the first 30 mins or so wasn't exactly hair-raising, after all we've all heard things that go bump in the night and more often than not attribute it to some errant rodent, the rest of the show upped the ante (and scare factor) and ensured a lot of bicep grabbing, profanity strewn invectives from yours truly. I have never blasphemed so much in the span of an hour. A quick scan around the cinema confirmed that this was the norm and not the exception.
The impact of the show on the psyche of the audience is also affected in some ways I feel by the composition of the audience. Couples or singles who have their own places and stay alone would be better able to relate to the context which the movie was set in and possibly envisage the same happening to them than say families or youngsters still living with their families.
After all, one of the things which added to the scream and scare factor was the overwhelming feeling of helplessness that was conveyed: of not having anyone to turn to, of not being in control. A perversity when one's house, usually your sanctuary and bastion of refuge suddenly becomes your jail and torture chamber all rolled into one. So for those who haven't watched it (and diss it on the account that it's over hyped and dumb), do go watch it and see whether you're still of the same opinion after the movie.
Suffice to say, if only half of whatever screened on Paranormal Activity happened to me in my house, I'd move out in an instant, sell the house and leave the possessed other half faster than you can say 'fuck'.
The second, a whole load more pleasurable. Insomnia, preoccupied by the feeling of his body moving under mine. The good thing about people who cant' drink much is that it doesn't require much to set them off, to send them into that desired and elusive 'high'. It took just one bottle of Vodka Grape for Jh. The bad thing is you aren't high (unless you're one of the aforesaid, in which like they say, Oh Happy Day). That foul bottle of small (thank god) 'french' wine from 7-11 barely had any effect other than leaving a vinegary- bitter aftertaste in the mouth.
It's been a long long while since I've played Devil's advocate and seductor in one night. As the guys I've been with have by and far been knowledgeable in the art of man-on-man action (albeit to differing degrees), I can barely recall the last time I slept with a greenhorn. Though there is always something refreshing about taking the lead and teaching without dominating, showing without directing. Not to mention that added cocktail of tenderness and teasing seduction.
And when the long dormant fire is relit, the intensity of passion that ensues and the feeling of his body moving under mine was sufficient to induce for both of us a very pleasurable insomnia, while it lasted.
The third, Insomnia the song by Craig David. One of the favourites at the moment and a hit I'd always be able to dance to. Trust the man to come up with an infectious emo-ish song, simple lyrics and a viral beat.
Insomnia by Craig David
I never thought that I'd fall in love, love, love, love But it grew from a simple crush, crush, crush, crush Being without you girl, I was all messed up, up, up, up When you walked out, said that you'd had enough-nough-nough-nough
Been a fool, girl I know Didn't expect this is how things would go Maybe in time, you'll change your mind Now looking back i wish i could rewind
Because i can't sleep til you're next to me No i can't live without you no more Oh i stay up til you're next to me Til this house feels like it did before Feels like insomnia ah ah, Feels like insomnia ah ah Feels like insomnia ah ah, Feels like insomnia ah ah
Remember telling my boys that I'd never fall in love, love, love, love You used to think I'd never find a girl I could trust, trust, trust, trust And then you walked into my life and it was all about us, us, us, us But now I'm sitting here thinking I messed the whole thing up, up, up, up
Been a fool (fool), girl I know (know) Didn't expect this is how things would go Maybe in time (time), you'll change your mind (mind) Now looking back i wish i could rewind
Because i can't sleep til you're next to me No i can't live without you no more (without you no more) Oh i stay up til you're next to me (to me) Til this house feels like it did before (Because it) Feels like insomnia ah ah, Feels like insomnia ah ah Feels like insomnia ah ah (Ah), Feels like insomnia ah ah
Ah, i just can't go to sleep Cause it feels like I've fallen for you It's getting way too deep And i know that it's love because
I can't sleep til you're next to me No i can't live without you no more (without you no more) Oh i stay up til you're next to me (to me) Til this house feels like it did before Feels like insomnia ah ah, Feels like insomnia ah ah Feels like insomnia ah ah, Feels like insomnia ah ah
Feels like insomnia ah ah, Feels like insomnia ah ah Feels like insomnia ah ah, Feels like insomnia ah ah
Though after watching Paranormal Activity yesterday, I can almost imagine it being applied to the context of the movie in a perverse manner.
" Because i can't sleep til you're next to me No i can't live without you no more Oh i stay up til you're next to me Til this house feels like it did before"
Pity for some, the house will never feel like it did before. shudders.
Good Clean Fun. Depending on who you ask, this innocuous term may have very different meanings. It is a convenient term that entails activities so varied as to be barely more than a personal barometer of acceptable fun activities. A catch-all phrase that encompasses anything from a puritanical litany of do nots like No sex, No drugs, No drinking, No partying, No swearing (which does cause one to wonder whether there's anything left to do other than sitting around and rotting from boredom after one is through with the said litany) to the decidedly laissez-faire attitude of 'Anything goes long as you don't come back dead, pregnant or escorted by cops.'
After all those years of listening to the same tiresome litany of commandments from the Mother, you can be certain that a lot of my GFC entailed a great number of forbidden activities. Which wasn't very hard at all because anything other than a brief dinner till 8.30pm and a wholesome movie was considered potentially sinful. Like a group of teenagers might suddenly feel inspired at 15 mins to nine to organise a hedonistic orgy of sex and drugs in drunken revelry. Terrible.
I like to think my personal GCF barometer is somewhere in between. Not a restrictive mantra of commandments that would stifle a nun but yet I'd still like to return home conscious, with my pants on. Unless I'm bunking in with some cute delectable dude in which case, I'd rather not have anything on. Sex is to me a grey area of sorts, I'd usually lump it under GFC without much thought because it is Good, Clean (well most of the time) and undeniably Fun. I'd admit there are times when passionate orgasmic sex can be hot & dirty in which case it'd have to go under GHF (Good Hot Fun) which covers almost all other sexcapades including but not limited to sleepovers and dirty sex in decidedly dangerous places. Alright so my GFC does tend to gravitate towards the more hedonistic end of the spectrum.
Clubbing (when i do get round to it these days) and dancing with the boys and girls is certainly GCF in my books. And when I say dancing I mean the kind I'm most accustomed to, good ole jiving preferably with lots of contact to boot. Contact that usually entails a decent amount of hand-on-various parts of the body action. It's something only the straight boys and attached peeps are exempt from, the former because they cannot handle it and the latter out of courtesy unless they initiate it cause their other half dances like a zombie.
Some might call it dirty dancing, I think it's a load of crap. Dirty dancing's restricted to the kind of dance more accurately described as sex, fully clothed on the dance floor. You know the kind where there's more grinding than dancing and the two individuals are so tightly entwined they look like a single sinuous entity of lust. Not that I have anything against dirty dancing which can be perfectly fine if the occasion (and person) calls for it.
Shaking that body and letting your hands do the talking is to me perfectly normal for dancing. Not exactly something I'd call 911 for even if the effect is that Shawty is burning on the dance floor. After all, dancing is in Sean Paul's words, all about getting busy and shaking that thing. Not spasming like a spastic vibrator or flopping about like a dying fish.
Though I'm not too sure about the Gang's plan to haul a rather hawkish almost bestial creature to the perfunctory birthday clubbing session in the hope that there'd be fire burning on the dance floor. Doesn't help that she reminds me of an embalmed mummy and the PM sent a very disturbing youtube link of Shakira's Shewolf. Now this is something I'd call 911 for.
Thanks to JL, this song appears to be a regular repertoire in the gang's list of favourite party songs. Happy whacking, ok JL? haha.
When your entire family gets locked out of the house on a Monday night due to a faulty lock, brand name: 'Faultless';
When you regularly receive luxury magazines encouraging you to live in style but your monthly salary is clearly incommensurate with such a lifestyle;
When you have a 101 packages but dread going for them due to the constant harassment by sales personnel to purchase more packages ;
When a home made roast beef sandwich fills you up more than a S$4.50 nasi padang lunch;
The title of the hit song by Alanis Morissette that I used to blast on my discman back in '96.
An old man turned ninety-eight He won the lottery and died the next day It's a black fly in your Chardonnay It's a death row pardon two minutes too late Isn't it ironic ... don't you think
It's like rain on your wedding day It's a free ride when you've already paid It's the good advice that you just didn't take Who would've thought ... it figures
Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids good-bye He waited his whole damn life to take that flight And as the plane crashed down he thought 'Well isn't this nice...' And isn't it ironic ... don't you think
It's like rain on your wedding day It's a free ride when you've already paid It's the good advice that you just didn't take Who would've thought ... it figures
Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you When you think everything's okay and everything's going right And life has a funny way of helping you out when You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up In your face
It's a traffic jam when you're already late It's a no-smoking sign on your cigarette break It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife It's meeting the man of my dreams And then meeting his beautiful wife And isn't it ironic... don't you think A little too ironic... and yeah I really do think...
It's like rain on your wedding day It's a free ride when you've already paid It's the good advice that you just didn't take Who would've thought ... it figures
Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out Helping you out
The past couple of weeks have really passed by in a flurry haze of activity. The numerous dinner and drinks replete with the occasional chill out moments. Partying harder and wilder than I've done for a long long while. And the stunning explosion of work, a combination of current files proceeding for trials and other hearings as well as a significant increase of new cases.
It's always a pleasant surprise when old friends of friends return from overseas and you hit it off from the start. A vibrant injection to the group dynamics, a refreshing change. Which would largely explain the dinners and hardcore partying. Work life balance, perhaps more accurately defined as the act of having to juggling work, fun and everything else has never been more keenly felt. Though I must confess work is starting to look like a veritable avalanche.
Once perhaps I would have devoted entire paragraphs to the wild going ons at the said nights out and dinners. The lesbo, hips grinding, practically orgy like dance / kiss fest (excluding yours truly.. no hot gay guys alas) at Pump room or the very delectable dinner and not so delectable after dinner entertainment at HOS. These days brevity seems to be the key.
Perhaps it is a virtue that I've come to appreciate, the ability to be succinct without having to substantiate, a luxury after all that need to be articulate and verbose at work. Or perhaps it's just the fact that it's 1.00am and I'm sleepy/lazy. Whatever.
I haven't been hanging out with the gay crowd or my other gay friends lately for that matter. Will have to do something about that. I leave you with one of my favourite work out songs. Nothing like doing weights or running on the treadmill to infectious music with killer beats. It's pretty much girl on girl action but hey everyone loves some lesbo action eh? Save for gay guys, bugger.
I'm tired of my life I feel so in between I'm sick of all my friends Girls can be so mean I feel like throwing out Everything I wear Starting over new Cause I'm not even there
Sometimes... I want to get away some place But I don't want to stay too long Sometimes I want a brand new day Trying to fit in where I don't belong Hook....Hook me up I want to feel the rain in my hair Hook....Hook me up Where should we go? I don't even care Anywhere is good enough Hook me up Hook me up
I like the lights turned out The sound of closing doors Not like other girls who always feel so sure Of everything they are Of what they're going to be Sometimes I'm just a girl stuck inside of me of me
Sometimes I want to disappear some place But I don't want to stay too long Sometimes I'm feeling so alone Trying to fit in where I don't belong Hook....Hook me up I want to feel the rain in my hair Hook....Hook me up Where should we go? I don't even care Anywhere is good enough Hook me up Hook me up
Anywhere is good enough Hook me up
They're going to crash and burn I'm going to find a way Nothing left to say
Hook....Hook me up I want to feel the rain in my hair Hook....Hook me up Where should we go? I don't even care (I don't even care) Hook....Hook me up I want to feel the rain in my hair Hook....Hook me up Where should we go? I don't even care Anywhere is good enough Hook me up
There are songs that speak to you, seems to affect the very core of your being when you first hear it. There are songs which inspire, songs that present the solution to your current quagmire. There are songs that get stuck in your head, that just won't get out. There are others which are like anthems, promises to hold on to.
Celine Dion's 'That's the way it is' is none of the above yet a little of all of the above. Some songs are meant to be played, listened to and cherished like a silent prayer, in watchful anticipation. Even if you might not be a believer just now. That's the way it is is one of those songs.
Celine Dion - That's the Way It is.
I can read your mind and I know your story I see what you're going through It's an uphill climb, and I'm feeling sorry But I know it will come to you
Don't surrender 'cause you can win In this thing called love
When you want it the most there's no easy way out When you're ready to go and your heart's left in doubt Don't give up on your faith Love comes to those who believe it And that's the way it is
When you question me for a simple answer I don't know what to say, no But it's plain to see, if you stick together You're gonna find a way, yeah
So don't surrender 'cause you can win In this thing called love
When you want it the most there's no easy way out When you're ready to go and your heart's left in doubt Don't give up on your faith Love comes to those who believe it And that's the way it is
When life is empty with no tomorrow And loneliness starts to call Baby, don't worry, forget your sorrow 'Cause love's gonna conquer it all, all
When you want it the most there's no easy way out When you're ready to go and your heart's left in doubt Don't give up on your faith Love comes to those who believe it And that's the way it is
When you want it the most there's no easy way out When you're ready to go and your heart's left in doubt Don't give up on your faith Love comes to those who believe it And that's the way it is
That's the way it is That's the way it is, babe Don't give up on your faith Love comes to those who believe it And that's the way it is.
