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We weren't born with a name, we were given a name. A hedgehog doesn't have a name. It's just a nameless thing with a handful of flesh and skin and a beating heart. A hedgehog doesn't even know it doesn't have a name.
 
 
   
 
Saturday, June 07, 2008
 
Late night taxi ride epiphany: I will come back to Singapore when I'm sick of the world. But for now, the world beckons.
I just need to find the money. And the courage to bash ahead.

And ironically, it takes my heartless unsentimental callous brother to draw attention to this song.

There's a part in me you'll never know
The only thing I'll never show

It's plain to see it's trying to speak
cherished dreams forever asleep
Hopelessly I'll love you endlessly
Hopelessly I'll give you everything
But I won't give you up
I won't let you down
And I won't leave you falling
If the moment ever comes

I think deep down, we're all hopeless romantics. Some are just more prone than others. And I belong to the former. For shame. Muse sings about the end of the world. And being so hopelessly in love. Ha.

"Then we should find some artificial inoculation against love, as with smallpox." - Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy

Aye.

 

 
   
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