Singapore, Friday, 30th Jan 2009.

It's been more than 48 hours since arriving here in Singapore and the sniffles are still a stubborn stew. I've fallen ill since leaving and i've held off bingeing on all the goodness of oil and gladness in the land flowing with deep fried manna. It's been health decisions so far. With lots of walking, mostly hunting for free WIFI and getting in touch with friends.

Mum's place has no internet connection, you see. Thank God the island has a vested interest in providing free access to it's citizens.

I'm out and about, full from a marathon of catch ups and late night conversations. i found myself almost scripting the same things to 3 different people groups. The wilderness years, the present reality of living life without conventional wisdom and the to do lists. There's so many songs to be written just because each encounter leaves me with that fuzzy warmth, reminding me why I live the life i now live. I'm even surprised there's been no pressure from my folks to do 'get a life'. Perhaps somehow they can see the fire, since, in my eyes.

So I'm rest stopping. At a franchise bad coffee joint. Planning what to do next. In the days past, three degrees of separation has worked so well for me. Friend knows a friend whose partner works at The Esplanade, Singapore's Arts Hub by the bay, and currently looking for acoustic acts to fill the stage for later part of the year. A call back from said partner came within an hour. Then another friend knows a friend who knows the people who run Timbre, a live music venue and will be in touch to make connections.

I dropped by IndoChine, with recommendations from friends regarding playing at their supposed Open Mic nights. Funny thing, I hesitated like a 10 year old, procrastinating, whether i should ask the staff. But I decided I wasn't 10 and what's the worse that could happen? "No we don't have open mics"

And so a browse through GAP and to my seat at this corner with free WIFI and power supply. Back to the drawing board.

For now, my only performance is still at OOOM3. Check out the listings & details of the gig. 4th Feb. Emily Hill. Told a few friends here about the gig and realise there could be an entourage and their friends for support.

Sweet.

Raise The Anthem

how do i begin to describe the trawling under current of what has disturbed me since the afternoon began? it seems nothing has changed. and I feel lied to. I feel stupid for having believed. And now, I feel like ripping up the ticket.

it's all a fairy tale that never really existed. it is a sin punishable by seven deaths in the ancient chinese halls of hell. this piety has made me a black sheep of the flock. is it too much to ask to belong?

that niggling feeling that there is something amiss. that there is always something almost not there. thirty hits and miss. how can i be so naive to believe that someone else's good favor has found their way into the hearts of my folks?

we are the sum of our relationships. what if i don't like how things are adding up? i hate to negate the present so i choose to stay away, out of the picture frame. the missing child from the heirloom of still captures for years to come. why did it have to matter to me to feel like there is something i need to recover? perhaps it was never mine to begin with.

there is the unpopular belief that some of us are just born at the wrong place and the wrong time. much hush hush to the wrong people.

so, they are still the same paranoid people i grew up with. and so, should i keep looking and find myself short changed? it was never meant to be mine, the fine folk at raspberry town, the kind souls at salisbury street, those warm hands that held a good nourishing hug, a home to rest my head and a safe haven to guard my thoughts.

so tonight i should be content i have a machine that keeps me warm. for love is an empty hollow leading to an abyss of chance and desire. what will you have me do? why have you chosen to keep me on this side of the shorter stick? when will my time come?

maybe the little island is mine to give up. the place i hastily still call home is to be relinquished. my last piece of the past i have to leave behind to build a future to change the course of the trajectory.

Raise the anthem and fly the flags. Swiftly come, leave it behind, as we countdown to the knell of a new history and unbridled possibilities.

evolution of the rhetoric

Circles, like cyclical generational curses or blessings - that thin line between our choices, make good for meaning. so this education be an evil that catches up with us in our slumber? modern man the nemesis of our nature? for when we distill all the context and cognitives of our existence we come up with a convincing conclusion, persuasive purely on the basis of how eloquent we can argue it.

It always makes sense. when the pieces arrange in our bidding. so is it enough then?

I am listening to Bill Withers at the moment. A part of me wanting to regress in time. While, having an online conference - one part catch up, one part business and one part professional. It's difficult to have the crossroad grey out the relationships but I found myself wanting a team to build this thing with me. Whatever the cause may be.

So if this year is the last of it as we know it, what difference does it make?

Thing is, i am still clinging on to those I love more than they love me. Thing really is, I don't think there is love at all. The one thing I seem to keep missing. I am not convinced. All the signs and lack of effort on the other party's part. Why do i still sit myself down as the door mat after three years? What good will come of this? There's only so much a human heart can take.

So this new 2000 spanking 9, what is it that we believe in?

I believe all human beings, regardless of race, religion, preference and origin are inherently selfish. That the human race believes that the world, as they know it, revolves around their own hunger and fetish.

I believe humans only do good when there is something in return for them. I believe communities of gatherings are neo-typical answers to belonging and excuses for categories of fear that keep us on the side of comfort.

I believe there is little love for the downtrodden, heartbroken and the browbeaten. I believe there is mostly only deception, motives and greed in the drive you and I call passion or ambition. The need to feel sexy, wanted, glorified.

Yet, I believe we all have more capacity to do more, love more, give more. I believe we have what it takes to be more than just idiots who take and take and take. I believe we have it in us to do more than sacrifice, more than obligation. More than looking the part and ticking off the boxes.

I believe when we hurt, it is the beginning of possibilities. Possibilities of a better world. A better home. A better set of families. A better way to tend, trust and a better circle that cannot be broken.

I believe that hope, though down and out, is hard to kill.