The morning was post heavy,
Cooling and wet, clear but misty;
Working people went,
While dumpsters tent.

Then came a call,
A friend who was rather tall;
He was my former mate
Back when I was in a fatty state.

He heard things of me,
Wanting to know if they were true;
I said I’ll double check and see,
But let me get back to you.

I called but no one answered,
Nothing confirmed nor enquired,
My father figure, then wasn’t please,
‘Can you be more careful’? he said in anger.

Furious I was,
As it was not my fault,
‘What do you mean’ I said in just,
Over the statement of assault.

All this was for him,
But was treated with ignorance;
All this was to win,
But was treated with no assurance.

How am I supposed to live?
When all hell has break loose,
How am I supposed to achieve,
When I have no say on what to choose?

The morning is post heavy,
I hear the sound of Proton Savvy,
The only thing that makes me sane,
Is the sight of my girl, and the absence of cane.

It’s not my fault and you treated it as it is… I will remember.

I play the son of Lam,

Emotional but never depressed,

Happening but never dumb.

I play the son of Lam,

Always willing to help someone,

Without expecting anything in return.

I play the son of Lam,

I accept criticism of my offspring,

But am modest and kind to others’ output.

I play the son of Lam,

I am a good listener,

But give way to others who cut in.

I play the son of Lam,

An all rounder who doesn’t sleep,

Accompanied by a beautiful girlfriend.

So this is my alias,

PICTURE PERFECT.

But when I am the son of myself,

I seek…

I seek somebody to listen,

I seek for something else,

I seek for someone to say ‘I’m here and I understand’

I seek…

So I am a good secret agent,

For no one has blown me yet,

Nor have they exposed me of what I truly feel.

I am seeking alone,

I am the son of Lam.

"Cause I can’t see myself in the mirror,

cause I disgrace myself in the mirror…"

Dear Deep River:

This is my first letter to you. And I'm sad to say that this is one depressing letter I’m writing.

‘Tis the season to be jolly’ is the phrase – The cliché of the week, month perhaps. But what I’m feeling inside now, just make me feel like a seasonal outcast.

Doesn’t he know that two years of stress and pressure have put me fatigued over academia?

Doesn’t he know that I want to forget academia for a while and do something that ‘does not help for my future?’

Doesn’t he know that I need to do something in my life where I can boldly say: ‘I chose this path myself’

Doesn’t he get it when I say ‘I don’t know’ means I don’t feel like talking about it and I don’t want to tell

Doesn’t he trust my responsibility and discipline, which I have proven throughout these last two years, not forgetting my leadership skills embedded within me during my high school years?

Doesn’t he know that every time he carves a milestone on my resume without my consultation, he is actually ruining it?

Doesn’t he get it when I’m sick and tired of listening and following whatever he has to say? Compromise was never an option, even if it was, it was an authoritarian compromise.

Outings that last for hours, back and out of the house, trips that are meaningless… just for the purpose of running away from all the madness.

Doesn’t he realise that he should be lucky to have a son who conforms and obey to whatever he has to say. Defying is not a principal in my life.

Didn’t I prove him wrong when I got chosen to go to the island republic?

Didn’t I tell him specifically what I wanted to do upon my return to the peninsular?

Didn’t I tell him of my principals, policies, mindset and mentality?

I love my girlfriend and my friends too much for them to see this entry.

If any of you who know me get to read this: Please do not even talk about it. I can get really bitchy at you. I'm sorry honey.