27 Dec
There is a place

High above the highest shelter of the bright skies,

That goes by the name of



People breeze past through the empty roads

While comforting troubled souls

Of their own.

In which I never deny its existence

For this journey would always lead to its


Wherever it may be,

Whatever it has to sacrifice,

Whoever we will become.

Open wide pathways,

Leaves falling like scattered ashes,

Cars parked at their utmost ease,

Words spilled out along with the wind,

Dogs barking seductively to their mates,

Grass! Much too much to be rolled upon!

Space need not be conquered

Time watches its habitant walking on by

Through the unspoken stillness



So non-urbanite!

— strolling along Portsdown Road and its branches on a windy Sunday morning, two kampung-spirited young men who go by the name of Cay and Nauval decide to surrender to the comfort of one fractured feeling: home —

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Posted by on 12/27/2004 in English


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