Albert turned around the corner. He was here just a year and a half back, staring down the busy line towards the one man who stayed still amidst the bustling life around him - the beggar who asked for two bucks for a mug of beer.
"Hey you, wise guy." He turned around.
"Yeah, you, wise guy." and he looked down. There he was, lying at the side, unnoticed by all.
"Remember me, wise guy? I met you before, didn't I? Jus' over a year back. Two bucks, right here. Still remember? I even got the dice here. Wanna try your luck at a seven again?" the gambler
"I'll refrain. Have you any other gambles to wrest my money with today?" the gambler shook his head.
"Always do, kid. Up for it?"
"Two bucks."
The gambler took out his pack of cards and began to explain.
"Tell ya a story first, kid. Have you ever learnt what makes a successful kingdom?" Albert shook his head.
"Well, I'll tell ya. It's called a Royal Flush. The strongest 5 in a pack. Any kingdom needs these, kid."
He took out the ten of spades. "First, the masses. No kingdom does well without its citizens. No leader can do without followers. The more, the better for a small group. Not 2, not 7, 10."
He took out the jack of spades. "The jack of all trades. What is a king without the jack of all trades? A team cannot be successful without diversification - without all-rounded capability a team is rendered useless by any rival in the sole area it is competent in."
He took out the queen of spades. "The queen of emotion. Just as every successful man has a devoted woman behind him, every competent king has a devout queen at his right side. The female brings emotion into the life of the team, keeps it from being cold-blooded, and keeps humanity in it."
He took out the king of spades. "The king and lord. The charismatic leader. For without him, there is no one to follow. A jack can do his trade but he will never find himself a leader, for he cannot master the reins of kingship. No group cannot exist without a king and leader to guide the masses.
He took out the ace of spades. "And lastly, the hidden master. A mere number amongst the crowds, but with the skill that none compare to, isolated by his talents. Even for a group of two he is essential for any certainty of success."
He kept the cards, and shuffled them.
"Game's simple. We take 5 cards each, and the one between us who has a better hand. Simple enough? Here's the catch. We choose our cards. I go first. And to be fair, I won't play a Royal Flush. Fine with you?"
"Fine with me," Albert said. It was more than fine. He was going to win with that kind of condition.
The gambler took his five cards and passed the deck to Albert. Even if the gambler wasn't allowed to pick a royal flush, nothing said that he couldn't do it himself. He looked through the cards - ah. He went for the four aces. Now what?
"I hope you have picked your kingdom, boy." Albert smiled.
"Yeah, I have."
"And I know what it is already, wise guy. It's the nine, ten, jack, queen and king of spades, isn't it, boy?" the gambler laughed. Albert showed his hand; exactly the way the gambler had said it.
"I find, Mr. Gambler, that a royalty in mind, in spirit, in synchronization with the masses is more successful a group than the four geniuses which you have picked, is it not? Even in poker, the straight flush bests the four-of-a-kind. Might I have my money, good gambler?"
"Well, then, Mr.Wise Guy, let me ask you a question." the gambler cleared his throat. "Even in poker, the straight flush is but 5 cards being both of a straight and a flush. What then makes the 10-to-Ace a Royal Flush rather than a straight flush?" Albert remained silent.
"Think about it, will you? What about the Ace over a Nine makes a Straight Flush a Royal Flush?" Albert shook his head.
"Well, you're not very bright, then, are ya. King to Ace sure doesn't sound straight to me. You can't call it straight if it isn't, right? So they call it Royal. But that's not the issue. The issue's my cards." and the gambler throws them out, one by one.
"The Ace of Finances." The Ace of Diamonds.
"The Ace of Might." The Ace of Clubs.
"The Ace of Passion." The Ace of Hearts.
"The Ace of Labour." The Ace of Spades.
"The Ace of Humour." The Joker.
"Ah," Albert commented. He took out his two dollars, ready to give them to the gambler.
"And my kingdom is clearly more competent than yours. Have you ever wondered why this hand trumps even the royal flush? There're two reasons. I'll tell you." he laid down the joker on the floor.
"See, there's something special about this joker. Take out this joker and you win. Why? Because the four geniuses are too smart for people - there's an issue of connecting with the crowd, you see. Take a smart man and a dumb man and the latter will never understand the former's thoughts. Well, actually vice versa holds true too. But you see, that's where Yours Truly comes in. Who can't associate with the joker and fool? That's how the story goes, at least. You may have the strongest team on the surface, dude, but I have the strongest team in the shadows." he smiles to himself, and picks the card up.
"It's never the most prominent of governments that changes the life of the world, but the team of scientists and genius researchers working together, isn't it? But I'd suppose no one ever realizes that." the gambler takes the two dollars and puts them in his side pocket.
"What's the second reason, then? Why the Joker and Aces are the strongest hand." Albert asked. The gambler laughed to himself.
"Well, innit obvious? Maybe a Royal Flush IS stronger, but you'd never know! You try finding that many geniuses after they got stolen by the joker." the both of them laughed to themselves, and Albert turned to leave.
"Just one last question, good gambler. Why do you stay here? What's there for you? You're a smart man; I'm sure you could work your way around this city."
"I'm no smart man," the gambler replies, taking a card out of his deck and passing it to Albert.
"I'm just a pretty blessed joker."
-------------------------------------------
Some buggersome stories just take one whole week to write. Basket. And after that emobout I started to hate the story a bit. But nevermind.
Addendum: In case people weren't aware (I'm sure plenty weren't), this is a sequel.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Somehow I know I'm supposed to expect things to turn out a certain way, but it's always rather depressing to remember again that if you hide a side of yourself from the world for too long the only person who knows that it exists is you -
- and you alone.
I know that some people comment that they never figure out what I'm thinking. I just forget that I need to take that line of thought more seriously.
The problem with being an observer was that you never managed to mingle with others properly. It comes with the job.
The problem with being a storywriter was that you never thought about people but the message you were going to write through them or even worse, about them.
The problem with being a thinker was just that sometimes you do it too well.
The problem with considering humanity in regards to anything was that you ceased to be human yourself.
The problem with being me is that no one will be like me. And perhaps no one like you means no one likes you. But that's just overly pessimistic behaviour.
----------------------------------------------------
Perhaps for every action ever seen of me there have already been a hundredfold gone unwitnessed
- and you alone.
I know that some people comment that they never figure out what I'm thinking. I just forget that I need to take that line of thought more seriously.
The problem with being an observer was that you never managed to mingle with others properly. It comes with the job.
The problem with being a storywriter was that you never thought about people but the message you were going to write through them or even worse, about them.
The problem with being a thinker was just that sometimes you do it too well.
The problem with considering humanity in regards to anything was that you ceased to be human yourself.
The problem with being me is that no one will be like me. And perhaps no one like you means no one likes you. But that's just overly pessimistic behaviour.
----------------------------------------------------
Perhaps for every action ever seen of me there have already been a hundredfold gone unwitnessed
Saturday, May 16, 2009
SG MBAA
So the MBAA Tourney has come and gone.
Damnit shit happens. Like Dneo getting 3rd wtf.
Tournament results:
Me: lost first round to Full Ries
JY: bye first round, lost second round to Half Nanaya (I think)
SZ: bye first round, lost second round to Full Ries
WH: lost first round to Cres Warc
Cleon: won first round against Half Red Aki, lost second round to Half Mech
Cheli: >_>
Dneo: won first round against Half Tohno, won second round against Cres Kohaku, won third round against Full Mech, lost fourth round against Cres WLen, won fifth round against Cres Miyako
fml Cres Wara cmi
Damnit shit happens. Like Dneo getting 3rd wtf.
Tournament results:
Me: lost first round to Full Ries
JY: bye first round, lost second round to Half Nanaya (I think)
SZ: bye first round, lost second round to Full Ries
WH: lost first round to Cres Warc
Cleon: won first round against Half Red Aki, lost second round to Half Mech
Cheli: >_>
Dneo: won first round against Half Tohno, won second round against Cres Kohaku, won third round against Full Mech, lost fourth round against Cres WLen, won fifth round against Cres Miyako
fml Cres Wara cmi
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Death of a Convict
The convict stares around him. The Colosseum filled to the brim with people waiting to see the main show - death by hanging for he who committed the highest sin of the Empire.
Killing the King.
He faces down towards the priest staring him in the eye - looking back at him to the best of his ability while keeping himself unrestrained by the rope round his neck. The crowds roar. The executioner remains emotionless - none see the face behind the ashened mask. "Purge his sin! Cleanse Our land! Hang his head and cut his breath!" a man shouts. Another follows. Another. Soon the audience is chanting. Purge his sin. Cleanse our land. Hang his head and cut his breath.
"Stop!" shouts the priest. Immediate silence. The crowd wavers in anticipation. The executioner yawns with apathy. He continues to stare down.
"This man here has committed the greatest of sins against the Holyland!" the priest shouts. The Colosseum roars back. Almost instantly they begin to chant again.
"But!" the priest shouts again. "we cannot grant sin victory by sinning against the sinner. No! It is in divine providence that we must give him the final chance to see The Way, to repent, to do good. Without it!" the crowd is silent.
"There is no justification for our cleansing of his soul." The crowd is solemn.
"Convict!" the command echoes throughout the Colosseum. The priest looks into his eyes. "You have committed the gravest of sins in the history of our Holyland. You have killed the Honoured King, blest by the Gods themselves. Regicide, divine mutiny, and treason. Those are the three largest sins you bear. Do you have anything to say of your unhallowed actions?"
The Colosseum stays silent, waiting for the convict's reply. The convict stays silent. The executioner remains nonchalant to the silence.
"Convict," the priest says, more gravely. "In the absence of our Hallowed King and in the mental distraughtness of His Royal Family, I, the High Priest of Our Holyland, have offered to take proceedings of this trial. Their divine wrath may have banished your life from this world by now, but I am not permitted to be of their nature, as I am but a High Priest humbly serving the King. Take this chance seriously, convict. It shall not come in any other lifetime of yours."
"Do you have anything," he says, pausing for a moment. "anything, Convict, to say of your unhallowed actions?" he stares at the convict, who only stares back in silence.
"Nothing, my priest," the convict says, still staring him in the face.
"Nothing? Nothing shall come of nothing! Do you intend to mock the benevolence granted upon you by sheer grace and divine will? Do you intend to scoff upon the charity of this nation, for whom you have lived within since your birth, and by your very choice at this moment perhaps your death too! Insolence!" he shouts. The crowd goes wild, infused too with the wrath that had suddenly overcome the priest. The Colosseum is filled with nothing but chanting and roaring again. Amidst the chaos, the priest sees the convict's lips move. He tries to hear, but fails. He cannot decipher the words of the convict.
"Silence!" the priest screams, drowning out immediately the roars and chants of the entire audience. Silence again. "The Convict speaks. Desecrate not the name of our Kingdom by depriving his right to speak." he turns to the convict. "Speak, Convict."
"What I had said, o priest, is that it is not insolence, my priest." the convict continues to stare into the priest's eyes.
"I see," the priest remarks, and looks at the convict again. "why is that so, Convict?"
"For my actions cannot be considered insolence if they were so deemed deserving, my priest." the crowd screams, visibly agitated. The rows of spectators stand and hurl stones at the convict. He does nothing. The executioner fumbles around, trying his best not to get hit by the stones.
"It is known!" the convict shouts. "Common knowledge, even! Of the divine wrath of the King and the Royal Family. Their trials and cleansings! With every purification the gallows are filled with the corpses of a thousand citizens! Tell me, O Priest! Tell me, O Country! Tell me, O Kingdom! Is their divine right to wrath worth the lives of thousands gone with every purification?"
"There is no sin in my actions! For I exist here a martyr to the beliefs that our Holyland have stood for since time immemorial. Is it not sin to purge the lives of many without the first pardon to death, o priest? Is it not sin to call for the gullotine on a man before the crowd can bear to even throw a stone?" the convict continues in his tirade, always staring into the eyes of the priest, each statement with more power than the next.
"It is divine retribution, O Kingdom! Divine retribution that such a fate befall the King by the hands of mere men like me. For the Gods themselves have invoked in me the divine wrath I needed to serve sacred justice against the Royalty that desecrate the hallowed name of our Holyland! Is this act, called upon by the very gods themselves, then considered a sin?" the crowd cannot accept the convict's speech. Stones fly from every direction of the colosseum towards the centre - the hanging ground. Everyone inside scrambles to the walls to avoid being stoned, save two - the priest, protected by the guards and their shields, and the convict, on the stands with rope bound around his neck.
"Convict! Know your place!" the priest shouts. "You stand here, a convict of the court, subject to the law of the Kingdom and held accountable to the masses. Of what right do you dare declare yourself a messenger of the wrath of the very gods that allowed our late King to assume his position as King Himself?"
"If I stand here as a convict," the convict declares, "then it is by my own conviction that I do so!" Amidst the hurling of stones and the roaring of voices, the convict's one statement rings throughout the entire colosseum.
"Madman! Sinner! I hereby declare this convict as a sinner of the gravest sins and sentence him to death!" the priest yells. He turns to the executioner immediately. "Executioner! Put this man to death immediately!" the crowd roars. The time has finally come. The executioner fumbles and quickly runs over to the lever. The convict continues to stare the priest in the eyes, seeing into his self, seeing the priest for what he really was. The priest immediately turns his head away.
"Why judge, O priest?! Why sentence?! Why curse and foul my name?! We are all going to die at some time, O Kingdom!" the convict shouts at the top of his lungs. His single voice overpowers the audience for an instant, but is immediately drowned out. The priest sees his lips move again. He cannot hear his words, only decipher its meaning by reading it. The crowd will not stop for silence this time.
"Just that I intend to deserve it." the executioner pulls the lever. The convict falls, hung on the noose of the rope, silent and motionless.
---------------------------------
Addendum: Man, I just realized this is so much like a carbon copy of another story I wrote last time.
Killing the King.
He faces down towards the priest staring him in the eye - looking back at him to the best of his ability while keeping himself unrestrained by the rope round his neck. The crowds roar. The executioner remains emotionless - none see the face behind the ashened mask. "Purge his sin! Cleanse Our land! Hang his head and cut his breath!" a man shouts. Another follows. Another. Soon the audience is chanting. Purge his sin. Cleanse our land. Hang his head and cut his breath.
"Stop!" shouts the priest. Immediate silence. The crowd wavers in anticipation. The executioner yawns with apathy. He continues to stare down.
"This man here has committed the greatest of sins against the Holyland!" the priest shouts. The Colosseum roars back. Almost instantly they begin to chant again.
"But!" the priest shouts again. "we cannot grant sin victory by sinning against the sinner. No! It is in divine providence that we must give him the final chance to see The Way, to repent, to do good. Without it!" the crowd is silent.
"There is no justification for our cleansing of his soul." The crowd is solemn.
"Convict!" the command echoes throughout the Colosseum. The priest looks into his eyes. "You have committed the gravest of sins in the history of our Holyland. You have killed the Honoured King, blest by the Gods themselves. Regicide, divine mutiny, and treason. Those are the three largest sins you bear. Do you have anything to say of your unhallowed actions?"
The Colosseum stays silent, waiting for the convict's reply. The convict stays silent. The executioner remains nonchalant to the silence.
"Convict," the priest says, more gravely. "In the absence of our Hallowed King and in the mental distraughtness of His Royal Family, I, the High Priest of Our Holyland, have offered to take proceedings of this trial. Their divine wrath may have banished your life from this world by now, but I am not permitted to be of their nature, as I am but a High Priest humbly serving the King. Take this chance seriously, convict. It shall not come in any other lifetime of yours."
"Do you have anything," he says, pausing for a moment. "anything, Convict, to say of your unhallowed actions?" he stares at the convict, who only stares back in silence.
"Nothing, my priest," the convict says, still staring him in the face.
"Nothing? Nothing shall come of nothing! Do you intend to mock the benevolence granted upon you by sheer grace and divine will? Do you intend to scoff upon the charity of this nation, for whom you have lived within since your birth, and by your very choice at this moment perhaps your death too! Insolence!" he shouts. The crowd goes wild, infused too with the wrath that had suddenly overcome the priest. The Colosseum is filled with nothing but chanting and roaring again. Amidst the chaos, the priest sees the convict's lips move. He tries to hear, but fails. He cannot decipher the words of the convict.
"Silence!" the priest screams, drowning out immediately the roars and chants of the entire audience. Silence again. "The Convict speaks. Desecrate not the name of our Kingdom by depriving his right to speak." he turns to the convict. "Speak, Convict."
"What I had said, o priest, is that it is not insolence, my priest." the convict continues to stare into the priest's eyes.
"I see," the priest remarks, and looks at the convict again. "why is that so, Convict?"
"For my actions cannot be considered insolence if they were so deemed deserving, my priest." the crowd screams, visibly agitated. The rows of spectators stand and hurl stones at the convict. He does nothing. The executioner fumbles around, trying his best not to get hit by the stones.
"It is known!" the convict shouts. "Common knowledge, even! Of the divine wrath of the King and the Royal Family. Their trials and cleansings! With every purification the gallows are filled with the corpses of a thousand citizens! Tell me, O Priest! Tell me, O Country! Tell me, O Kingdom! Is their divine right to wrath worth the lives of thousands gone with every purification?"
"There is no sin in my actions! For I exist here a martyr to the beliefs that our Holyland have stood for since time immemorial. Is it not sin to purge the lives of many without the first pardon to death, o priest? Is it not sin to call for the gullotine on a man before the crowd can bear to even throw a stone?" the convict continues in his tirade, always staring into the eyes of the priest, each statement with more power than the next.
"It is divine retribution, O Kingdom! Divine retribution that such a fate befall the King by the hands of mere men like me. For the Gods themselves have invoked in me the divine wrath I needed to serve sacred justice against the Royalty that desecrate the hallowed name of our Holyland! Is this act, called upon by the very gods themselves, then considered a sin?" the crowd cannot accept the convict's speech. Stones fly from every direction of the colosseum towards the centre - the hanging ground. Everyone inside scrambles to the walls to avoid being stoned, save two - the priest, protected by the guards and their shields, and the convict, on the stands with rope bound around his neck.
"Convict! Know your place!" the priest shouts. "You stand here, a convict of the court, subject to the law of the Kingdom and held accountable to the masses. Of what right do you dare declare yourself a messenger of the wrath of the very gods that allowed our late King to assume his position as King Himself?"
"If I stand here as a convict," the convict declares, "then it is by my own conviction that I do so!" Amidst the hurling of stones and the roaring of voices, the convict's one statement rings throughout the entire colosseum.
"Madman! Sinner! I hereby declare this convict as a sinner of the gravest sins and sentence him to death!" the priest yells. He turns to the executioner immediately. "Executioner! Put this man to death immediately!" the crowd roars. The time has finally come. The executioner fumbles and quickly runs over to the lever. The convict continues to stare the priest in the eyes, seeing into his self, seeing the priest for what he really was. The priest immediately turns his head away.
"Why judge, O priest?! Why sentence?! Why curse and foul my name?! We are all going to die at some time, O Kingdom!" the convict shouts at the top of his lungs. His single voice overpowers the audience for an instant, but is immediately drowned out. The priest sees his lips move again. He cannot hear his words, only decipher its meaning by reading it. The crowd will not stop for silence this time.
"Just that I intend to deserve it." the executioner pulls the lever. The convict falls, hung on the noose of the rope, silent and motionless.
---------------------------------
Addendum: Man, I just realized this is so much like a carbon copy of another story I wrote last time.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
SYF
Bittersweet. So bloody bitter and so little sweet.
I wonder why I felt so depressed over it.
Because I didn't do my best? I personally felt I did. I won't be able to find out any unbiased opinion about how we did for each song, so I can't tell if I actually did my best (as a section).
Because the choir could have practised more? Perhaps. We could have. I heard other JCs sang every day in the morning. Certainly they wouldn't have any problems with feeling tired or the like.
But I think one important thing was spirit. Anyone who saw how the schools were like after announcing results would agree with me. Our choir doesn't have that, and it never will.
And the other? 一雄芝崎's words suffice
一雄芝崎:
of all my friends that sang with me for syf leaving after syf
including you
it is just dam sad to part ways
especially after singing together for a period of time
TT
that's why the syf results are so important to me
becuase we worked together towards that goal
it is something that we have put in so much time together
nvm
haiz
I sincerely want to drink some alcohol, but I'll refrain.
I wonder why I felt so depressed over it.
Because I didn't do my best? I personally felt I did. I won't be able to find out any unbiased opinion about how we did for each song, so I can't tell if I actually did my best (as a section).
Because the choir could have practised more? Perhaps. We could have. I heard other JCs sang every day in the morning. Certainly they wouldn't have any problems with feeling tired or the like.
But I think one important thing was spirit. Anyone who saw how the schools were like after announcing results would agree with me. Our choir doesn't have that, and it never will.
And the other? 一雄芝崎's words suffice
一雄芝崎:
of all my friends that sang with me for syf leaving after syf
including you
it is just dam sad to part ways
especially after singing together for a period of time
TT
that's why the syf results are so important to me
becuase we worked together towards that goal
it is something that we have put in so much time together
nvm
haiz
I sincerely want to drink some alcohol, but I'll refrain.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
AWARE
9.15pm Josie Lau: “The exco has graciously decided to step down and we wish Aware all the best in its future endeavors."
Pretty fascinating considering that the vote went at a 2-1 majority for the stepping down of the exco even after they allegedly sent busloads of people to vote for them (redshirt/whiteshirt dichotomies there help differentiate apparently. Postpone this meeting until August and you wouldn't have seen the difference between this and the NDP, save perhaps what the people shouting and screaming about.
Another interesting part about this is that unlike Repeal 377A, the AWARE AGM doesn't have the government intervening and debating in parliament over it. Perhaps the people are more capable of change than the group that represents said people, huh.
But let's take a step back, shall we? What went wrong? Personally I felt it was an issue of attitude - When you tell your community to "shut up and sit down", it drives the message across that you're not there to serve - you're there to be served. I recall the motto of a particular NGO I worked with last year - if it's not from the heart, it's not worth doing. As appropriately asked during the EGM: "how many of the new exco have passion?"
When you need to claim a right to respect by virtue of your age, you tend to lose the battle of credibility and moral high ground.
Barring opinions of the 'new exco' (given how they got voted off and were replaced with an even newer (yet older) exco during the AGM. Gosh the complications), it's interesting to look at this event from a more generalized view.
Why did so many Singaporeans stand up for this?
Is it because of disagreements with the way the new exco had taken over the old guard?
Is it because of disagreements with the causes of the new exco?
Is it because of disagreements with the actions of the new exco upon taking over?
Is it because someone had broken an unspoken contract of human rights and they felt the need to speak up?
In any case, a good Saturday.
Pretty fascinating considering that the vote went at a 2-1 majority for the stepping down of the exco even after they allegedly sent busloads of people to vote for them (redshirt/whiteshirt dichotomies there help differentiate apparently. Postpone this meeting until August and you wouldn't have seen the difference between this and the NDP, save perhaps what the people shouting and screaming about.
Another interesting part about this is that unlike Repeal 377A, the AWARE AGM doesn't have the government intervening and debating in parliament over it. Perhaps the people are more capable of change than the group that represents said people, huh.
But let's take a step back, shall we? What went wrong? Personally I felt it was an issue of attitude - When you tell your community to "shut up and sit down", it drives the message across that you're not there to serve - you're there to be served. I recall the motto of a particular NGO I worked with last year - if it's not from the heart, it's not worth doing. As appropriately asked during the EGM: "how many of the new exco have passion?"
When you need to claim a right to respect by virtue of your age, you tend to lose the battle of credibility and moral high ground.
Barring opinions of the 'new exco' (given how they got voted off and were replaced with an even newer (yet older) exco during the AGM. Gosh the complications), it's interesting to look at this event from a more generalized view.
Why did so many Singaporeans stand up for this?
Is it because of disagreements with the way the new exco had taken over the old guard?
Is it because of disagreements with the causes of the new exco?
Is it because of disagreements with the actions of the new exco upon taking over?
Is it because someone had broken an unspoken contract of human rights and they felt the need to speak up?
In any case, a good Saturday.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
L-O-V-E-L-O-V-E
陪你熬夜 聊天到爆肝也没关系
陪你逛街 逛成扁平足也没关系
超感谢你 让我重生 整个o-r-z
让我重新认识love
[l-o-v-e!l-o-v-e!]
恋爱ing happy ing
心情就像是 坐上一台喷射机
恋爱ing 改变ing
改变了黄昏 黎明 有你 到心跳到不行
你是空气 但是好闻胜过了空气
你是阳光 但是却能照近半夜里
水能载舟 也能煮粥 为饱了生命
你就是维他命love
[l-o-v-e!l-o-v-e!]
恋爱ing happy ing
心情就像是 坐上一台喷射机
恋爱ing 改变ing
改变了黄昏 黎明 有你 到心跳到不行
黄昏 黎明 整个都恋爱ing
-----------------------------------
I feel 16 again hahaha
I swear the world needs to compile some gigantic list of songs that will immediately get you out of a bad mood
陪你逛街 逛成扁平足也没关系
超感谢你 让我重生 整个o-r-z
让我重新认识love
[l-o-v-e!l-o-v-e!]
恋爱ing happy ing
心情就像是 坐上一台喷射机
恋爱ing 改变ing
改变了黄昏 黎明 有你 到心跳到不行
你是空气 但是好闻胜过了空气
你是阳光 但是却能照近半夜里
水能载舟 也能煮粥 为饱了生命
你就是维他命love
[l-o-v-e!l-o-v-e!]
恋爱ing happy ing
心情就像是 坐上一台喷射机
恋爱ing 改变ing
改变了黄昏 黎明 有你 到心跳到不行
黄昏 黎明 整个都恋爱ing
-----------------------------------
I feel 16 again hahaha
I swear the world needs to compile some gigantic list of songs that will immediately get you out of a bad mood
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