dirt road

dirt road
Originally uploaded by insee

in the end, if it's the journey that counts, why take the shortest route?

Love Songs - Anjulie

Love songs and limousines
Wishing wells and make believe
Disco balls and dancing queens
I fall so easy

Rich guys and candlelight
Telling me the things I like
I'm too young and they're too right for me

I fall so easy for cheesy things in life
Sad, sad movies make me cry
Pretty people I admire
I used to hate

I fall so easy for the stupid little lines
Hollywood and sunny skies
Fancy restaurants with three forks and knives
I fall so easy

Until you came my way
Turn my clouds to white from gray
Showered me with pink champagne
I let go so easier

That girl I used to be
Cynical and heartbreak free
Confidence exude in me now


I fall so easy for the stupid little lines
Hollywood and sunny skies
Fancy restaurants with three forks and knives
I fall so easily in love

i fall so easilee...tan tan ta ta nan tan tan

retro effect; going with the flow...

retro effect
Originally uploaded by insee

unplannedness took over the planned weekend. pretty much everything i've wanted to do for the past 3 months squeezed into 3 days. i've watched 2 movies, each 2.5 hours long, after a 4 month movie drought. watched my favourite live band perform. caught up with friends after eons, binged on junk food. enjoyed the wanton noodles from bugis. randomly mad-hatted at attica in a french burret (if i got the spelling right). sikh kebabs in the morning/afternoon. masala teaing soon after. coco-nutting the evening. thai-ing the night and kacanging for dessert. not to mention the mundane laundry and room cleaning that got its deserved attention. in fact, i think my days couldn't have been spent any better. unplanned perfectly, going with the flow.

bin tere kya hain jeena

don't let the stars get in your eyes.

if we could be heroes... for just one day

at times i am engulfed with ideas, chasing a whim to explore when i find myself crammed within the thoughts that should be processed so that i can make it to the end of the day. its like bottling up a feeling and waiting for the right time to release it. somehow though, these feelings are made of whispery thread. like compost, they disintegrate with time. locked up for too long, the ideas disappear. if only the freedom to live like marchesa was bestowed upon us all creating art would be as simple as just living.

each dying idea deserves a blogpost, but in the age of efficiencies and economies, here will lie their mass grave. spare a minute for these unbegotten souls.

any the hoo, this was supposed to be a much deeper post, but my mindset has transferred to lackadaisical. to understand the sentiment, please consult sheldon cooper.