I used to be mesmerised by a song I used to play when I was a kid. I used to play it when ever I felt the need to be emo - breakups, bouts of semi-depression, insomnia, when Everton lost. To me, at least, it was the most inspiring, heartwrenching and grand piece of music I had ever laid my ears upon. It had been the longest time since I last heard it.

I felt a tinge of nostalgia coming on tonight, and with all that had been happening recently, I felt a need to channel all that emotion somewhere. I lit a cigarette, put on the track and sat on my carpet. I could feel the majestic piano score flood my senses once again. And I felt a flood of memories streaming back to my mind...

***

The Last Song - X Japan

Watching the stars till they're gone
Like an actor all alone
Who never knew the story he was in
Who never knew the story ends
Like the sky reflecting my heart
All the morning begins
I'll read last line

終わらない雨　抱きしめた　
夜が朝を向かえる心はまだ
濡れたまま

In endless rain I've been walking
Like a poet feeling pain
Trying to find the answers
Trying to hide the tears
But it was just a circle that never ends
When the rain stops,I'll turn the page
The page of the first chapter

傷つくだけ　傷ついて　
解ったはずの答えをどうしてまだ　
問いかけてる

Am I wrong to be hurt
Am I wrong to feel pain
Am I wrong to be in the rain
Am I wrong to wish the night won't end
Am I wrong to cry

But I know,
It's not wrong to sing the last song
Cause forever fades

気がつけば　又独り夜の空を　
見つめてる少しづつ消えて行く
Our Memories...

傷つくだけ　傷ついて　
解ったはずの答えをどうしてまだ　
問いかけてる

(I see red)
(I see blue)

(But the silverlining gradually takes over)
When the morning begins
I'll be in the next chapter

終わらない雨　抱きしめた　
夜が朝を向かえる心はまだ
濡れたまま傷つくだけ　傷ついて　
解ったはずの答えをどうしてまだ　
問いかけてる

***

11 minutes of grandeur. I always felt that masterpieces were meant to last longer. I had always been amazed by how Hide played and Yoshiki wrote. How those lines were spoken with a rough sort of melancholy. With solemn sorrow. The title was apt. The last track of the last leg of an erratic era for the band. I practically grew up with this. I missed it.

Just then my eyes started to blur. And I started to breathe with a slight heave just as it softly drifted off the interlude...

And I played it again.

I should really be finishing my assignment. I'm basically wasting away. But here I am, erronously and futily, attempting to tickle your funny bone. Procrastinating is an overrated word. It's everywhere. Do a search. It's in almost every blog. So is "digress". Bite me. I don't care. Wait. That's also another overrated word. Fuck. Oops. There I go again.

Friday nights have relatively somewhat transformed into solemn affairs for us. No vim and vigour. No tacky verbal streams. There's hardly even any alcohol actually nowadays. I'm on a downward spiral towards an euthanasial holocaust. Can someone throw a branch at me and let me die?

The guys and I were hanging out at the Introbar over at the Stamford, and miled about our adolescent criminal records over exhorbitant designer teas (need. alcohol.), when F said the worst he'd ever did was pinch several "dividends" of $50 from his mum's wallet when she wasn't around so he could get the latest Transformer figurine. And of which he had to bury in the neighbourhood playground so as to avoid questions asked. How cool was that? The bugger was a natural. Though it didn't stay buried for long. Some sneaky kid got lucky. WT's modus operandi was more or less the same, and on top of not admitting to his acts of immorality, he didn't even shed a tear when his skin was being ripped apart by a tree branch his dad plucked from their backyard. C scrimped several 20 cent coins from her neighbour's piggy bank to fill up her own each time she went over for play sessions. Weak attempt comparitively but then they were only 5-7 years old then.

"Wah. Steady you all. But you can't possibly top mine - I didn't steal anything though when I was that young. I couldn't bring myself to do it lah. But I did pick up a wallet once when I was out playing around my block. When I peered in, I was so shocked I was shivering with excitement..."

It had $500 in it.

Imagine a 5 year old holding that much money in his hands for the first time, and all he could think was start to think what was he to with so much money.

"In the end, I took $100 and chucked the remainder. Guilty lah."

*Manical sarcastic vile laughter ensues*

Trust me, guys, I regret it to this day. If I could travel back in time, I'd tell my 5 year old self to return the wallet to the poor owner. Imagine losing $500 just like that and $500 wasn't a small amount back then. It's painful just thinking about it.

You're right. Who am I kidding? I'd probably slap my 5 year old self, stuff the money into his pocket, get the latest Transformers figurine, dump the wallet into the rubbish chute and fatten up my juvenile ego.

After wiping their tears, C whined by plastering her face with "I've-got-a-fucking-headache-and-I-want-to-go-home-else-I'll-start-eating-the-upholstery". So off we went. Ended up with a taxi drought. I'd want to discuss that but then that'll have to wait. We managed to flag down one but not before the cabbie went by each person on the sidewalk, mumbling some estate's name which he'd apparently hoped would be so absurdly distant that no one would be sane enough to be staying at. Eventually, he came to us -

Cabbie : Hello, Jurong? Jurong?? (slowly starts driving off. Obviously thinking no one will be going there)

Me : (points to C) Neh neh! Boon Lay! Jurong mah!

Cabbie : (as C enters cab) !#$%&*nabei$#/**%knn...

We are awesome.

To add insult to injury for my night of perfect nonsensical jargon, the rest of us ended up at a coffee shop somewhere at Boat Quay for a breather. I was ordering drinks for the guys and made a tiny enquiry if they were still serving hot drinks -

Me : Hello Uncle ah? Still got sell hot drinks anot?

Uncle : Got ah. What you want?

Me : 2 Teh Peng (ice tea) and 1 can Chrysanthemum tea.

Uncle : !!#$%^&&*^&^$##!!!! Then ask hot drink for wat?! (He didn't say anything actually but he probably thought it)

Okay. That felt kinda stupid. Later on this french chick came along from a table across and asked for a cigarette, which I reluctantly gave. Shortly, she came back again for a light, although this time to subsequently start a conversation obviously to ease her guilt for not being able to afford one fucking cigarette and a lighter :

French chick : Hi, I'm Flo. You know, like river flow? Hur hur hur.

Me : Hi, my name's K. (the guys introductions followed)

FC : (puzzled look) Oh? What strange names! I thinking you guys Chinese but how come you all called this way? I now stay in Singapore 2 months and I meet a lot of people! Very nice very lovely but all have Chinese names! This is very strange! (pardon her French)

Me : Right! You stayed here for that long and it took you till today to realise that we can have English names! Cool! Welcome to Singapore.

FC : Oh thank you.... Hur hur hur.

Hmm. Right. That was stupid too. Now, back to work.