My constant outstations are my holidays paid by my employer
My towering in-coming documents are my table origami
My colorful post-it-notes are my favorite collage
My demanding work is a tool towards global champion, albeit reluctantly
My occasional headache is a sign that I am indeed thinking
My long, daily walk to the LRT station is my ever forgotten exercise
My long overdue social life is a fortress against social illness and such
My small, cluttered room is a haven without boundary
My pain-inducing shoes are main reasons for my shopping spree
My busy neighborhood gives me security at night
My everyday visits to mamak stalls are my effort on efficient time-management and economic inducement project
My need to pack, unpack and re-pack again and move in to a new place is a breath of new life
My unexpected/expected calls from known/unknown people are interludes to my humdrum predictable/unpredictable life

Yup, we have to look on the bright side of life
But sometimes the light is so bright that I just have to close my eyes
Letting the blowing wind touches my face, drying my tears


The Rose
by Westlife

some say love it is a river
that drowns the tender reed.
some say love it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed.

some say love it is a hunger
an endless, aching need
i say love it is a flower,
and you it's only seed.

it's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance
it's the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance

it's the one who won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give
and the soul afraid of dying
that never learns to live.

when the night has been too lonely
and the road has been too long.
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong.

just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snow
lies the seed that with the sun's love,
in the spring, becomes the rose.