Posted by mandrake at 04:40 PM on January 21, 2012.

I do not know when I became so tired and hard and dry and so devoid of sentiment.

Hit me baby

a line in the sand

Posted by mandrake at 11:34 PM on October 17, 2011.

and so another sacrificial lamb lands on the plate.

The Bukit Brown Cemetery is making way for a highway. A HIGHWAY.... I mean, can't the government find another place to run their 8 lane monstrosity? after the national library debacle, you would think that they would try and avoid another place of historical value to run their highway through. It's almost as if they searched the map for the least desirable place for a highway, and plonked it in there.

What I don't understand is why can't we allow slower traffic to exist? is it so bad to take an extra 5 minutes to traverse the rolling tundras of Singapore? The rich tapestry of historicity and the memories that are attached to Bukit Brown are incalculable.... so why replace it with a soulness highway?

This is just another nail in the coffin of disconnectedness that the Ruling Party has seen fit to allow. Although one might argue that the cemetery is a forgotten place, just having it there as part of a mental map would allow one to feel that historical connection.

Once again I would have to stand and lament that "this used to be a different place".....at the end of the day what truly ties me to this place? Only fading memories of places that used to be.

What price, progress? Does it have to cost your soul? your historical roots?

Hit me baby

them from the foreign lands

Posted by mandrake at 11:05 PM on July 20, 2011.

Something that came forth whilst i was on the train and looking at 2 foreign workers sitting in front of me. young eyes peered out from behind old leathery faces:

their sun darkened faces are deeply marked by the passage of time and the elements. unshaven, their clothes dusty, they sit quietly in the air conditioned cabin, only speaking to each other occasionally out from the cloud of exhaustion that surrounds them. curiosity gets the better of them as they peer shyly at the multitude of people getting onto the train with fleeting glance. clutching their bags as if it provided them with some sort of definite comfort, the cacophony of modernity clambers for their attention despite their quietness of spirit. they are flatmates, living together amidst the concrete jungle. relying on each other for whatever comfort they can wrest from the other.

Hit me baby

Posted by mandrake at 08:28 PM on December 6, 2010.

it's becoming quite unfamiliar, this tapping on the keyboard. What was done as a time consuming activity whilst navel gazing has become a mundane necessity at work.

 

Somehow it just feels like i am doing this out of a strange nostalgia for times when i had so much to say. And yet, looking back, perhaps i said very little.

 

 

 

Hit me baby

Posted by mandrake at 09:57 PM on November 24, 2010.

relentless. unceasing. unyielding.

 

i feel almost as if an imaginary wave continually rushes over me day after exhausting day. invisible yet tangible; persistent yet gentle.

 

I feel like im carried by a tidal wave.helpless. spinning out of control and yet fully conscious.

I need to put on the hand brake and really pause for a breather.............

Hit me baby