Roadkill, baby. <body>


I.

Cheryl.

Sweetpea.

Shoot, sexaye!



Vain vintage.

July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008

Jaded junkies.

ariel alan bruddy gid khim sarh serene shaun shifu sf tai tini timo




Wednesday, May 24


Summer breeze.
I went for a run today.

It was nice to slowly take in the surroundings of places I usually whiz past at 80km/h. It was nice to gather new perspectives on various things, and reminiscently recount the old ones, all the time keeping a fair pace in my under-used Nike trainers.

Like how absurd it is that Mcdonald's - in an attempt to delude themselves that they are, really, selling healthy food - claims that french fries are high in fibre. Or how my seemingly trivial attempts to flash a smile at anyone I passed seemed to contribute heavily (or so I pride myself) to general social well-being. And sniggering inwardly at street names like Bloxhome Drive, which sounds like something you'd build out of a Lego box.

I then decided to explore, at random, a private housing estate. The fun thing about private estates (albeit a regular taxi driver's nightmare) is that after a few deliberate wrong turns, you really never know where you'll end up. Me?

I thereby chanced upon Chong Boon Springs.

In case you're wondering where on earth this quaint little place is, its actually at Ang Mo Kio Ave 10, as a glance up the nearest HDB block so tells me. And, as expected, no springs whatsoever in sight. These odd names.

Anyway.

Deciding a long walk is indicated, I set my sights toward a northerly direction and my expedition begins. The seldom traversed backstreets of AMK are surprisingly well-enhanced for strolling pleasure. Lush greenery and minimal traffic ensues. Coupled with the cooling prequel to a sky that's going to pour, its all terribly enjoyable. And then, before I can dwell further on the romanticism the place entails, my serene thoughts are rudely interrupted by an SMS from my Mum which reads: Grand Uncle passed away this morning.

For a few minutes, I glaze over the death and agonize over recalling who Grand Uncle is. The peaceful walk thus ends. Morbid and contemplative thoughts about life and death follow.

And then, at the horizon of the road that reads Ang Mo Kio Ave 3, I see with slight disappointment the familiar bustle of Ang Mo Kio Central.


5:12 PM