A bulbous nose,
horn-like on a man’s face
A Hawk he is,
staring at the girls.

Boys, dressed like girls
SKinny jeans and skinny frames
Tight shirts and cliques
I will never fit into.
Then another group of boys
All gold and hardcore
Rockers, they try to be
In Chinese.

A crowd,
a baby pram, an old man,
both bumped into me.
As I read the only reply of the three
messages I sent.
Caught up in more than it’s contents
More with what it meant.

A staircase a head,
a couple makes three.
The guy reaches round her shoulders.
And she reaches for his ass.

Boys, playing, pushing
at each other.
Like animals, shirts pulled out
and I follow suit.
Ladies, walk by
pretty, but generic.
I only notice figures
Not faces,
because I am transfixed
by the sight of my feet.

A Coffee Bean!
But no time to stop
A train’s coming.

A broken man,
sits in the Underpass.
Broken at joints
the shoulders and knees.

I stop. I’ve reached.
But there’s 16 more stops to go.
And a bus ride
with a wait not worthing waiting for.
I hope it’s silent then.

This is pretty much how my walk from the bus stop to the MRT station at AMK Hub went. Weird ain’t it? I guess the less you think about the people you know, the more you notice about the people you don’t. Makes me want to clear off my MSN list. Haha.

And here’s a song for all you kiddies. I hope you don’t sleep properly tonight and dream of monsters after seeing this. Here’s Lordi with “They Only Come Out At Night”.

P.S. Getting that DSA is a kickass feeling.