FRANK SINATRA: "Moon River"

Even the winds lack the courage to howl at the skies. I stare into the distance, out of sync, out of focus. The city sleeps at my feet, and I sleep with it.

MILEY CYRUS: "From The Very Start"

The swishing of your hands
Balms my bruised thoughts
Scarless are the lands
Far the ghosts I fought
Take one little step to love
And love takes a hundred steps to you
For the distance to the heart
Is measured from the very start

LADY & BIRD: "Blue Skies"

I must look like a grazing cow, my face only ten centimetres away from the grass in this lush hotel garden. It’s early morning, and there’s not much human cattle around, let alone other mammals performing arm balance poses like me in the chilly zephyr that rolls over Manila Bay. I smell the green, where my nostrils inhaled the salty blue of waves just now. The ladybird that strolls over my mat does not even bother to look up as I gaze at him, as if it were a tall slender princess parading along Sunset Boulevard. My morning mind is an unspoilt beach, pleasantly pristine before the noisy crowds will flock to its warm sandy skin. In silent sincerity, we talk to ourselves. We can talk many words, but only the true ones will be remembered. A breeze caresses my hair, but goes unnoticed.

QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE: "Quick And To The Pointless"

In forgiving closeness
We fondle our memories
And cuddle fun-filled pillows
Of undefined horizons
Time points to pointlessness
As we escape from it -
Flying fishes through the net

OWL CITY: "To The Sky"

Marina Bay Sands (Singapore)

BON JOVI: "Bad Medicine"

Quod medicina aliis, aliis est acre venenum.
("What is medicine to some, is bitter poison to others.")

HUEY LEWIS: "Power Of Love"

“When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt.”   
 (Honoré de Balzac)

CLIFF RICHARD: "Ocean Deep"

I am not so pretentious wanting to be a missionary, wandering around with the purpose of converting others into my beliefs, or finding disciples for my own philosophy. The best teacher is a student. And of all that I stand for, I value humbleness very much. Therefore I don’t judge, for right and wrong has never existed. Judgement is an illusion, a sand castle vested on the foundations of the views of those who grant themselves the power to judge. That’s why I shy away from gossip too, for its only merit is that it reveals more about the person talking, than about the person who’s talked about. I have no idols, but still I admire others. For, strangely enough, sometimes it’s harder to have faith in oneself, than to have trust in others. We may lack the confidence, the self-worth, the self-esteem, and we tend to look at an old image of ourselves, as if it were a framed picture on the wall. We thread on paths that we have walked upon before; we sing songs that we have sung, on and on. We believe that we are who others tell us to be. But pictures get dusty and it takes courage to look with sincerity into even our own eyes in the mirror. We blurt out the answers that we know, without realising that the question has changed. We find comfort in the clothes we have worn before, but overlook that a new fashion season made them outdated. It’s human to rely on a false sense of security that past patterns give. Think of a little boy who learns how to swim. He’s actually long able to swim already before he finally dares to release the grip on the swim board. There’s no need to be afraid of the depth of the water. We just stay adrift, whether there’s one meter or one hundred meter of water below our floating body. History may tell us where we come from, but it doesn’t tell us where we going. A compass always points to the north, but yet we can swim into any direction. As long as you swim forward, you will get somewhere. Re-invent yourself and you will feel brand new.

BON JOVI: "Bed Of Roses"

Love is a delicate red rose, with petals that unfold a myriad of mysteries. A few thorns may scare us off at first, but its innate beauty draws curious admiration and desire fills our nostrils and irises. It does take some bravery to reach out and grab its stem, to twist and turn it carefully between the fingers, close the eyes, lose control and inhale the intoxicating smell of freshness; then open the eyes again, and immerse into its sensuous splendour.

We have no choice but to accept that sometimes we don’t have a choice. Lighting doesn’t care whether it’s day or night, nor do the waves of the ocean stop rolling when the sun sets. Time does not rule all. Therefore love is art, for it can not be explained with sense or reason. It can not be clearly described why a rose is so intriguing and we’d all use different words to do so. It’s always interpreted differently than it was created or ever meant to be.

Love is the verb, the subject and the object of one and the same sentence. And we are all a writer. Yet grammar never matters; nor does vocabulary, punctuation, or style even. The only thing which is truly important is the intention, which is in the act, much more than in the word. We find love, then love finds us.

GLEN FREY: "The Heat Is On"

"Love is an electric blanket with somebody else in control of the switch."

(Cathy Carlyle)