
For one so small,you seem so strong My arms will hold you keep you safe and warm This bond between us can’t be broken I will be here don’t you cry----Phil Collins
8/21/2009
What?

8/16/2009
8/15/2009
Bored? nah


8/13/2009
130809
8/03/2009
8/02/2009
Whatever.
who knows.
7/29/2009
7/21/2009
Camel Challenge
7/20/2009
A book a day.....
Picked up another bunch of books, a book on lyndon johnson, one on the clinton /dole election, another on kerry packers channel 9, and finally one on castro..those were for me the other 3 i got for Caitlin who loves reading as much as her mother and i :).
This brings my july haul to 10 books. This excites me. I reckon if this keeps up we are going to need more shelves.
This brings my july haul to 10 books. This excites me. I reckon if this keeps up we are going to need more shelves.
7/19/2009
“Do not go gentle into that good night,
“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
By Dylan Thomas
By Dylan Thomas
Sunday
Spent a lovey Sunday with Caitlin and the Moo n Doo. Went to Tengah, Pierce Res and finally Bedok South. A lovey Sunday.
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