so sorry

the local musician seems to find it hard to make it big in our very own backyard. at times, i wonder if this is the making of the locals themselves. at times, when i come upon a musician who sings with an american accent, i get feedback from the crowd saying these musicians are just wannabes, trying to be more westerner, no local flavour or identity. but when a musician sings with a manglish pronnounciation, they laugh at the musician’s face, for having the lack of ability to pronnouce the words correctly. correctly as in more american. so, i believe the musicians are stucked in between the critics. should they follow the maintstream and forget their roots, or maintain their originality and be no same. it’s just a sad scenario i have seen.

expectations

how did society mould the female race into thinking that the men in their lives are suppose to make all the sacrifices and success in the career to obtain the riches money can buy, and shower them onto the girls, every single cent?

actually, the only people i believe deserve such luxury from another, is when they are your parents. people who really sacrifices to bring you up to who you are today. and not girlfriends/lovers/sex partners.

where the hell do they get the idea that showering them with material stuff is what they call love? it’s really amazing what you can find out about a person from just their expectations in life.

the real mccoy

at times, i can picture you wrapping your arms around one of mine, while leaning your head on me, with your cheek resting on my shoulder, as i can just turn my head to the side and i’ll be able to smell your hair which is the real you, the one who is willing to sit by my side anywhere, beach, balcony, or even in the car, as we cease the moment of watching the sun set.

untrue

i have no idea of what i want or is it people just don’t know what they want.  i don’t remember falling in love is this hard, or is it i’m just not up to date of the recent criteria of getting involved. the expectation, the assumption, the choice of words, the false promises, the beautifully crafted sweet talks. i just don’t get it anymore. i just get back to my small world of hand and paper towel relationship.