This one is called “Stella was a diver and she’s always down˜
When she walks down the street
she knows there’s people watching
the building fronts are just fronts
to hide the people watching her
she once fell through the street
down the manhole in a that bad way
the underground drip
it’s just like her scuba days
days
daze
days
daze
she was all right cause the sea was so airtight she broke away
she was all right cause the sea was so airtight she broke away
she was all right but she can’t come out tonight she broke away
she was all right yeah the sea was so tight, air-tight
she broke away broke away
she broke away broke away
she broke away broke away
she broke away
stella….
bottom of the ocean she dwells
bottom of the ocean she dwells
from crevices carressed by fingers
and fat blue serpent swells
stella
stella
oh stella
stella i love you stella i love you stella i love you
she was all right cause the sea was so airtight she broke away
she was all right cause the sea was so airtight she broke away
she was all right but she can’t come out tonight she broke away
she was all right yeah the sea was so tight, air-tight
she broke away broke away
she broke away broke away
she broke away broke away
she broke away
well she was my catatonic sex toy love-joy diver
well she was my catatonic sex toy love-joy diver
she went down down down there into the sea
she went down down down there down there for me
right on
oh yeah
right on
it’s so good
oh yeah
right on
it’s so good
oh yeah
there’s something that’s invisible
there’s some things you can’t hide
try to detect you when i’m sleeping
in a wave you say goodbye
Stella Was a Diver and She Was Always Down – Interpol
and today, i heard someone telling me that his favourite name for a girl was stella.
they cut me out from my mom, and i know that because of the scar across her waist.
————-
heyy beautiful, i’ve gotten your card and it made me smile for the first time in a long while. tens and thousands of miles and maybe some things won’t change.
————-
i love paul banks and this is why.
We can cap the old times
Make playing only logical harm
We can top the old lines
Clay-making that nothing else
Will change
But she can read
She can read
She can read
She can read
She’s bad!
She can read
She can read
She can read
She’s bad!
Oh, she’s bad
It’s different now
That I’m poor and aging
I’ll never see this face again
You go stabbing
Yourself in the neck
We can find new ways of living
Make playing only logical harm
And we can top the old times
Clay-making that nothing else
Will change
But she can read
She can read
She can read
She can read
She’s bad!
She can read
She can read
She can read
She’s bad!
Oh, she’s bad
It’s different now
That I’m poor and aging
I’ll never see this place again
You go stabbing
Yourself in the neck
It’s different now
That I’m poor and aging
I’ll never see this place again
You go stabbing
Yourself in the neck
It’s in the way that she poses
It’s in the things
That she puts in my hair
Her stories are boring and stuff
She’s always calling my bluff
She puts the, she puts the weights
Into my little heart
And she gets in my room
And she takes it apart
She puts the weights
Into my little heart
I say she puts the weights
Into my little heart
She packs it away
It’s in the way that she was
Her heaven is never enough
She puts the weights in my heart
She puts the, she puts the weights
Into my little heart
Obstacle 1 – Interpol
today i ran like i have never ran before, and i completed my run in 40 minutes; the most i have ever ran in a stretch before. 6 hours later, i would play 5 full court sets, and win all of them but the last, where we lose by a point; and now i sit sprawled in front of my computer tired, wearied but happy.
(it is going to rain.)
i hope no one thinks i’m terribly perverse, even though my reputation’s shot to bits, but this is terribly funny.
well hello it’s 7.35pm in tengah and i believe i will dance in the rain with her if i ever get the chance, and maybe there will be lightning and thunder but they are just light and sound and are transient; pictures in the mind will last an eternity because they are what you did be fixated with.
the sound of raindrops outside patters softly onto the asphalt, dashing itself into its hubris; splash, splash, splash.
these days i love the dawn of the morning because its so quiet and cool and lonely; you wake up at 6 on a saturday and no one moves but you and your backpack; throughout singapore in a few isolated estates, men move like ants towards the buses.
i came home at 9am today, and the sunlight shone through several trees; maybe some days the skies will part.
“I probably peaked during my first two years in college at Holy Cross, when I was playing five times a week at the Field House (one of the contributing factors to my 2.5 GPA freshman year). I was never an All-Star or anything, but I was always fun to play with and always pulled at least one memorable pass out of my butt per outing. I was a fifth banana who filled in the blanks, a Jon Barry type. And I was just competent enough that I could play against the best pickup players at school and not totally embarrass myself.”
the story of my life, and i’m not sure if i can even say the same thing. -_-
heyy beautiful, you’re going through a lot now and i miss you so much so -hugs-
seow yanmei return soon!
and because september is ending and october is beginning, my life comes to a almost certain closure.
today the boss told me that i would only have a week before the exams to study, and all the fears that encapsulated me the past year came to life. i worred i would not be able to go to a university to study literature; i worred i would not be able to get a degree; i feared for my future and how i would be able to sustain my mom and i; i feared my grandma would be worried for me; i worried for intellectual atrophication; i worried for my life, even though it will end at the age of fourty, and above all i worry that everything i hold dear in my life will change and depart.
worried, warried, a blasted battlefield.
this year i have been in a certain sense of paralysis because i thought and feared. i didnt want to think of myself, because the more i did the more depressed i became and maybe it is time to put this all down on words to confront it and triumph it. but it’s not working; it stares at me in my face, and it consumes me devours me and spits me out like refuse and i don’t know how much longer i can battle this any longer. i thought you would be there, but you wouldn’t, and i suppose at the end of it all it is my hubris, my implosion, my death.
today i messaged you and you didn’t reply.
today, desperation beneath a facade boils up to life.
you gave me your name yesterday because you didn’t want me to forget you and i will not; i will honour you in the way you would want and carry your name till the very end, ms sweet potato. we will meet again someday.
it is 4.56, and i will have an hour’s worth of sleep but it is truly in the night that i am awake.
