Tiny ironies.

Tiny ironies.


picture from inmagine

There's nothing like a cool autumn breeze, sending the past up with the leaves
Watching all the clothes on the line in a sidestepping dance with the neighboring trees.

Once in a while, my imagination gets the better of me.

Incubus - I Miss You.

Incubus - I Miss You.

To see you when I wake up
Is a gift I didn't think could be real.
To know that you feel the same as I do
Is a three-fold, Utopian dream.

You do something to me that I can't explain.
So would I be out of line if I said "I miss you"?

I see your picture.
I smell your skin on
The empty pillow next to mine.
You have only been gone ten days,
But already I'm wasting away.
I know I'll see you again
Whether far or soon.
But I need you to know that I care,
And I miss you.

By some twist of luck, B and I have been able to work out our schedules to chat every night this weekend. Monday marks the start of our food diary blogging (we're keeping it private so you don't see how much junk we put into our mouths), and our supposed healthy lifestyle plan. He's already gone running twice this weekend, for an hour and a half each time (that basically overrides the total of all my runs since my return, haha). I'm motivated to keep up. Oosh.

The queen of escapism.

The queen of escapism.

Shopping in Orchard on a rainy day almost always makes me feel like it is Christmas. Grey skies, chilly winds, damp ground, and the rustle of shopping bags. And it almost is. Christmas is barely two months away, and so is getting on the flight to India.

Am I being selfish? Will I board the plane feeling like the weight's off my shoulders for the next six months? Can I go off hoping to come home and find that things have miraculously been put to right?

I played my part for awhile, but the daily grind got to me, and I found myself saying one day, "I can't take listening to this anymore." But of course I know that not hearing about it is just a temporary tactic to trick my conscious into thinking that things are working themselves out.
The subconscious is smarter than that.

And the greatest power yields in the subconscious. Acknowledging it, even briefly, fills me with an urge to burrow my head under pillows.

For now, I'll just coast along and work on compartmentalizing the conscious.

A song to share - When I'm Thinking About You by The Sundays.

Over the rooftops a plane in the sky
Beat of a bass drum cars passing me by
Under a bridge dark then back into light
A river of raincoats and a forest of faces
Still for a moment then red into green
Slow shuffling shoes whisper sight unseen
Row upon row of houses return an empty stare
Let me daydream for a little while longer

I hope I’ll never wake
When I’m thinking about you
I hope I’ll never wake
Cos now I’m thinking about you

Two-minute hailstorm then melts into rain
(oh) sing me a rainbow it’s sunny again
Swallows overhead while the traffic snarls below
Could I (could I) keep dreaming for a little while longer

Hope I’ll never wake
When I’m thinking about you
So that you know - I never want to wake
Cos now I’m thinking about you

When you’re searching your soul
When you’re searching for pleasure
How often, pain is all you find
But when you’re coasting along and nobody’s trying too hard
You can turn around and like where you are

I hope I never wake
When I’m thinking about you
And I close my eyes (dear)
Now I’ll never wake
Why should I stop thinking about you

Considering materialism.

Considering materialism.

Watch the clip, and read the lyrics below. Gone, performed by Jack Johnson and Ben Harper. Really awesome.




"Gone"

Look at all those fancy clothes,
But these could keep us warm just like those.
And what about your soul? Is it cold?
Is it straight from the mold, and ready to be sold?

And cars and phones and diamond rings,
Bling, bling, because those are only removable things.
And what about your mind? Does it shine?
Are there things that concern you, more than your time?

Gone, the wind.
Gone, everything.
Gone, don’t give a damn.
Gone, be the birds, if they don’t wanna sing.
Gone, people, all awkward with their things,
Gone.

Look at you, out to make a deal.
You try to be appealing, but you lose your appeal.
And what about those shoes you’re in today?
They’ll do no good, on the bridges you burnt along the way.

Are you willing to sell, anything?
Gone, with your head.
Leave your footprints,
And we’ll shame them with our words.
Gone, people, all careful and consumed.

Gone, gone, gone, everything.
Gone, don’t give a damn.
Gone, be the birds, when they don’t wanna sing.
Gone, people, all awkward with their things,
Gone.

The cupcake empire.

The cupcake empire.

I am into yet another of my baking phases, with a tidy fortune invested in Phoon Huat products. I even got myself a knife set from Ikea, though one wonders where knives come into the picture.

A song from the Pretty Woman soundtrack. Something I'm sure many have heard but never got around to finding out the title. Thanks Jem.

Lauren Wood - Fallen

I can't believe it, you're a dream coming true.
I can't believe how I have fallen for you.
And I was not looking, was content to remain.
And it's ironic to be back in the game.

You are the one who's led me to the sun.
How could I know that I was lost without you.

And I want to tell you, you control my rain.
And you should know that you are life in my veins.

You are the one who's led me to the sun.
How could I know that I was lost without you.

I can't believe it, you're a dream coming true.
I can't believe how I have fallen for you.

And I was not looking, was content to remain.
And it's erotic to be back in the game.

Always On Your Side.

Always On Your Side.
Performed by Sheryl Crow and Sting.

My yesterdays are all boxed up and neatly put away
But every now and then you come to mind
Cause you were always waiting to be picked to play the game
But when your name was called, you found a place to hide
When you knew that I was always on your side

Well everything was easy then, so sweet and innocent
But my demons and my angels reappeared
Leavin' only traces of the man you thought I'd be
Too afraid to hear the words I always feared
Leavin' you with only questions all these years

But is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are you left to wonder, all alone, eternally
This isn't how it's really meant to be
No it isn't how it's really meant to be

Well they say that love is in the air, but never is it clear,
How to pull it close and make it stay
Butterflies are free to fly, and so they fly away
And I'm left to carry on and wonder why
Even through it all, I'm always on your side

But is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are you left to wonder, all alone, eternally
When this isn't how it's really meant to be
No it isn't how it's really meant to be

Well if they say that love is in the air, never is it clear
How to pull it close and make it stay
Butterflies are free to fly why do they fly away
Leavin' me to carry on and wonder why

Was it you that kept me wondering through this life
When you know that I was always on your side.