Don't be mistaken, I ain't Emo.



Ang Mo Kio at night; avenues flanked by those great old trees, and the florescent spiel from the seemingly identical rectangular blocks of flats which make navigation through the seven neighbourhoods a confusing exercise, brings with it a rash of recollection, of those carefree late nights with Josephine, driving through the very same streets on our way somewhere,and you wonder how so much time can be reduced to a mere instant of memory.