would i were a politician, to have power beyond mere man, so i might create a society that was read, to leave me to my dreams

No, it's not good.
It's gone.
A long time ago.

A badly transcripted reading from rosencrantz and guildernstern are dead, but it will do.

Techno music is playing in my head now, and it isn't just any run-of-the-mill ahbeng-booping-head-whomping brows-creased-in-fierce-concentration organised beats of irritating rhythm; it's techno music with a memory. Like mattel's barbie doll that comes with a hairbrush and um. heels? in a pink glitzy box. I never really played with her anyway, nothing that has left a meaningful impression anyhow. I suppose I tried to make believe I was interested.

It is interesting how some memories are present for a period of time, brought out and related over and over again like old men jabbering away to one another with gummy dentures inside [we are young old men?]
but somehow suddenly one relates less and less, and gradually forgets.
or maybe this one just stopped talking about it altogether one day and never remembered.

So now I have on my hands three thoughts three memories spleshed against each other like the wraped image of old buildings in a skyscraper's mangling face- throw a whole in its face and it returns the image distorted, denatured and like angela carter's post-modern maidens, deranged.


I hope I get my cda on boey kim cheng right.