(Imagine yourself boarding an MRT train)
--------------------------------
The doors shut and I
closed my eyes, opened my senses
Drank the music from the white apple
Drowned out the motion
To fill the time and
distance, between
North and South
Moving from
office to home
instant coffee to (a name of a homemade food)
Moving closer
to the gal's smiling face or
the wife, a life's possession,
sitting atop a table, still and patient.
dustlessly clean.
waiting for the fingers to turn her ON
but she knows (she has a 160GB memory, and ??Ram)
that soon as new models come
she would make her exit.
Exit. People come and go.
Through the those
doors.
Exits or Entrances?
people come and go.
Like the thoughts that float free
while the body is locked in space
In this [crowded] train/MRT
Doors, they
close and open.
Days, they close
and open too.
each cycle an illusion
brings me back to where I was before
(or so I believe)
School.Office.Home. Each day
Educaton. Good Job. Money
wife.
the white apple. A cool phone. A new gadget. But
the closing doors, with each
cycle, they bring me closer
to where I wana be. even
if I have to leave the "where"
again,
I would patiently
wait. And close my eyes.
Drink the music.
Free my thoughts. To
move closer
to where I
will (not want)
to be.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
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