photo: "simple joys" 9:58 pm

"simple joys" | barcelona

Can we ever return to that with which
We started with?
That innocence, that guts to
Act in faith, to let fly,
Not not care about consequences and thus
Live life a little more full?

Are has cynicism encrusted into our skin,
The only one we now know?
Is there no more room for whimsicals, for
Puppy loves?
What has this world done to us?

I want to fiercely defend the child in me,
The child the Father made in His image,
And not be so obsessed being the
Adult that the world has forced me to be.

You may join me.
But if you intend to wear your trenchcoat of
Purposeless cynicism, then my house
May not be for you.
Yet, the doors are always open, the welcome mat out.

Uncle T

Reminiscing over a cuppa 10:20 am

Another post I wrote after starting work. It is incomplete, yet still worthy for what it is. Perhaps I will complete it someday, perhaps in a way totally different from the way it was intended. But that is the way sometimes things are; ever-changing, never still. Always, therefore, I've got to always prepare for change, even in the things that I thought were meant to last forever.

Funny how a mere morning cuppa can trigger so many memories.

This morning, it is Starbucks at Fusionopolis, Singapore. Yet, just standing here adding raw brown sugar to my espresso sends shots of memories flying back to me. Waking in Brooklyn, morning lectures in Warwick, makan in Corsica, breakfast at Ang Moh Kio...Morning kopi is a trigger, a portal, my hope.

Perhaps it is the caffeine. No. It is just the kopi experience. The clarity of mind that comes with this experience is so sharp it is amazing each time. As clear as the Corscian moon in Easter.

Bus 10:19 am

This was a post written nearly 4 months back, when I first came home from the UK. Then, I was adjusting back to life in Singapore. Now, I am still adjusting. Now I am even wondering if its naive to think people I left behing 3 years back are still the same.

I am on the bus home. Same number, but new bus. The seats are now some untearable synthetic red thing. The bus passes through a familiar route, one literally that captures much of my teenhood. The bus pulls into the stop where the ex-girlfiriend lives.

One observation, other than the one that you now have to wear seatbelts at the back of the bus. I do wonder how young couples make out at the back of buses these days. The observation: nearly everyone on the bus is engaged with an electronic device, including me, in trying to type this. The boy next to me is figuring out some love triangle over the phone.

The lights on the bus are so bright I feel naked. Just a few years back, dim buslights were conducive for falling asleep, creating alluring orange hues that guarantee you miss your stop.

I wonder where this ride will take me. Hopefully to a place where there is good company, love, jazz, coffee, a pen and a paper...