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Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Voices that care are crying out loud /7:00 PM

It's like a bad memory revisiting the mind and heart, a good yet resentful feeling pounding on the emotional-free glassware. Those were the days where we wrapped our arms around those closest to us, both literally and in true Raffblood spirit. And those were the days when our seniors, tall and lanky, huddled together in uncoerced unison, reuniting the bonds that had always resided in each batch mate. And these are the days where we stand rooted in the same spots our PSLs once took ground as the same words left their pursed lips. But I love the song, and today I truly understand how this one-liner makes everything meaningful in one breath.

Voices that care are crying out loud

A plea for verbal morale and a gift of vocal support. This is a double-edged sword-to give and to take-and yet to fuels the same body: batch. When you sing for voices that care, and when you proclaim their amplitude and desperate cries, you reciprocate that action and you sing for others, who sing for you. It is the beauty of the lyrics that make it so harmless should there be awkward silence but with each voice resounding these same words and breathe the same notions, everybody sings because they want to give; and those who give always receive.

And it's hard not to regret what I missed out in Sec 1 and even now, the blessed chance to be a PSL. Two times I blew it, not the third though. Whatever comes now I will grab. This year sets another hallmark in our lives, a checkpoint to revisit when in doubt and to know we're still the same, after 4 years. The same song, the same voices, the same love that carries our intentions across. So long it has been and I'd never thought I will rise up to the seniors of the school again. Primary 6 was indeed eons ago as it seems and here I end off.

Feel in our hearts how our love burns bright. (:

Man in the Mirror
Sean (:
Confirmed 2010 'Alexander'
God's Given Child
Eighteen
02 Scout & Raffles Player


"I am not young enough to know everything." -- Oscar Wilde



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