Pasir Laba Musings.

I grew up in simpler times in a 5 room hdb flat, ran wild with friends who lived around, lift catching, basket ball court voiddeck football. We knew nothing about the 5Cs or GST. The Lions had Fandi Ahmad and super sub Steven Tan who put the ball through Alan Davidson's legs audaciously. Sundram's bicycle kick was unbelievable. Singapore won the Malaysia cup and it seemed like life would be good. Hello Chok Tong goodbye Kwan Yew. The MRT arrived, i loved kneeling by the window looking out. We were all so hopeful about the future. Everyone I knew wanted to be a policeman soldier footballer. On August 9 we pretended our badminton rackets were rifles and saluted Wee Kim Wee in front of the TV. I remember walking home from the old national stadium cutting through Gay World at night and it was ramshackle and exotic and I felt a bit scared because I had read the story in true Singapore Ghost Stories of the taxi driver and the bar hostess with sharp teeth. Russell Lee your twisted imagination, and then we were chased by dogs, before they were put to sleep, and we ran, hearts beating so fast into the future and we learnt more about the world so much more about the world and we saw our country change for better or worse, and all the knowledge took the hope from our hearts and we needed god or drugs or nostalgic movies to reassure us that everything was going to be alright.