I'm floating so far away and so fast that the shore is now just a speck in the distance; I am waiting for angels to swoop me up, or maybe you, but you wouldn't know it.
I am waiting for deliverance, precisely because I am just too far away from home for my calls to find answers.

Sigh. There just hasn't been enough drive; perhaps in Raffles it was so competitive that it somehow forced me to find another gear; here serving National Service, everything is just so commonplace and so mundane that it is impossible to find any heights on a daily, consistent basis, (except for the weekends and off-days, of course) for me to sustain any form of emotion. The only constancy is, mondays bad, fridays good. Going to work is a chore; coming back home and I think about resting and just lazing around. You know what? I want to know what love is. I want you to show me.

I wonder what is the male equilavent of being 'swept off your feet'. It would be a rather interesting description, I'd bet.


I'll wait until the next time when life brings new things for me. Little gifts, you know, you must cherish them.