I swear that if you wanna be a pole dancer, the best place to train is, the train. No pun intended there. And I AM talking about our very own clean and efficient MRT trains here! No need to waste money and go Batam or enroll in some stupid dance crash courses.

’cause almost everytime when I take the trains, without fail, I’d see children swinging ’round and ’round the poles. and although I have limited knowledge on how pole dancers REALLY are, I must say that the children must have done a better job than the pros!

You see there was this once when I was inside the train and… I saw this small, cute, little girl putting her legs in between the poles and sliding down gracefully before standing up to swing a few rounds around the pole.

Of course I was brought back down to Earth when she suddenly screamed “MUMMMMMYYY!!!” at the end of her few seconds of fame.

But of course with all due respect to pole dancers, children need not actually aspire to be like them. My point here is that, the children were having so much fun playing with the poles! The sweet and sincere smile on their face, bringing heart-felt smiles to weary passengers indirectly. I mean isn’t that what entertainment suppose to be? From the bottom of your heart?

So I really wonder why pole dancers have to act sexy and bitchy when they do their routine. (Okay, I admit here that I HAVE SEEN them but only on the TV screens, which is futher filtered by Mediacorp so as to prevent further soiling of the MRT poles.)

Is it because the expectations are high and people are paying to watch you?

You know what, I’m beginning to realise now that some things… are just priceless.

You know what’s worse than being down and out. Or like what my friend calls it - sappy?

That is to be down and out and sappy INDIRECTLY rather than be affected DIRECTLY.

Look, I wanted to lead a normal life here. Okay, I’m trying to do so. But what happens when only one hand wants to clap and the other refuses to do so? You’ll just be beating the air, right? In other sense, it’s a useless and pointless piece of action.

But what can you do to change things? Only the other hand is able to control itself and change the situation. Only the other hand can move itself to cooperate with the already-taking-the-initiative-hand so that both of them can meet and make a *clap*. Now that’s a piece of action that has a meaning, purpose and goal.

THAT’S WHAT I WANNA ACHIEVE.

Something that I don’t feel it’s a waste of time. But now it seems that for all my efforts, I’d be often overpowered by the fact that there seem to be a distinct lack of cooperation.

Look, I wanna carry on in my life. I have lotsa things playing around in my mind, so don’t make things worse by making the situation deteriorate further. By wanting things to go only your way. What about mine?

WHAT ABOUT MY FUCKING RIGHT TO HAVE MY OWN FUCKING DECISION FOR MYSELF, FOR MY OWN FUCKING LIFE?

Have you ever thought about that… have you really ever even considered me in your equation to your supposedly model answer to this intricate problem? Hah, what the hell…

What is love,
When it is bounded by time,
tied down by commitments,
pre-determined by your social influence
hindered by your aspirations
and above all,
pre-destined by God?

What is love?
A question so easy on the surface,
Yet a delicate matter of the heart.
A thin line spreads across
Distinguishing between the sincerity
Or not.
Even so one will ask eventually,

What is love?

Let me sidetrack a little bit about friendship here. I guess at some stage of our lives, there will be some mother fucking friends that we have to have. Be it we want it or we are forced to have them, perhaps that’s one thing that we can’t have control over.

The funny thing about these kinda friends are they may not be one who smokes, change boyfriends/ girlfriends every now and then or drinks his way to the club. Because choosing friends are like choosing partners for your life. The looks doesn’t matter, it’s the heart. The personality. The attitude. The respect.

Unfortunately sometimes, we can’t choose our friends. WE HAVE TO ACCEPT THOSE MOTHER FUCKER FRIENDS. But for me that’s it, accept them as they are.

What ever for be loyal to them, ’cause you know they’d backstab you at any time.
What for share problems with them, ’cause they’ll be the root of all our problems eventually?
Why share the happiness, joy and sorrow with them when you know that they won’t be true to you?
Why seek help or shelter from them, when they themselves are cowards?

Hah! Perhaps I should look at the positives. Mother fucker friends are like demons to this rather angelic Earth. They are here to add spice to our lives, if not in a way that it actually disrupts our lives greatly. Furthermore, read this scoreboard of my own:

MOTHER FUCKER FRIENDS 1 : ~ REAL FRIENDS

OMG! Real friends are owning Mother fucker friends! That sign is ‘infinity’, by the way.

I wonder if my Mother fucker friends have friends. Then they can be the Mother fucker, motherfucking friends. Go to Hell, my Mother fucker friends!

p.s. My Mother Fucker friends here doesn’t refer to all in general, just a handful. It’s good that they stay as a handful. In that way, I can crush them with only one hand. Fuck my Mother Fucker friends off!