had i the heavens' embroidered cloths,
enwrought with golden and silver light, the blue and the dim and the dark cloths of night and light and the half-light, i would spread the cloths under your feet: but i, being poor, have only my dreams; i have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.



a frayed.

23+. enjoys miles davis, radiohead, john coltrane, rage against the machine, jeff buckley, kings of convenience, humpback oak, jars of clay, portishead, budak pantai, aimee mann, frank sinatra, smashing pumpkins, portishead, jay chou, david tao, corrinne may. likes haruki murakami, david mitchell, terry prachett, pj o'rourke, ian rankin, kazuo ishiguro. reading economics and finance in singapore management university. hopes to read either public policy, finance, or economics in the future, wherever and whenever that may be. harvard or mit please?

perpetually uncertain and unwilling to be committed or decisive. consistently inconsistent. starts, but where is the finish? dreams too often for his own good. questions himself constantly. hides in an unseemly pile of excuses and unworthy reasons. still waiting for the winds of change. afrayed of everything he should not be. finds it hard to believe he can. why not just leave things as they are? alea jacta est. maybe because of that myrtle scent.

still. in the words of pj o'rourke, 'the dog is dead but the tail still wags.' knows who he wants to take him home...

'i've never once thought about how i was going to die,' she said. 'i can't even think about it. i don't even know how i'm going to live.'
- after the quake / haruki murakami.