  pillow tales today, we mark the departure of the entity that has meant more to me than any human, animal or plant on this planet: my beloved yellow pillow. i call it the yellow pillow because it's what it was wearing last night, before my mother decided to take leave and then remove it from earthly existence. the pillow, i must have you know, is about the thing most people come into contact with more often than anything else in the world. and for some time already, my beloved little pillow has been communicating in tender, subtle wisps of scent with me.
oh, you poor, poor thing, how you must be rotting away in a rubbish pile somewhere. i hope they bury you with full military honours or something. you must think i am somewhat a psycho, but maybe you might reconsider this when you think about 15-year-old boys crowding around a stupid shop buying gaming cards (in somewhat, but not in entirety, refined language)... "so who's this boyfriend of yours? " "uh... ah seng. that's his name. " "ah seng, ah..... tell me one thing you do, and do very well.
" "well auntie, i am a gaming card enthusiast. i get cheated to collect stupid little pieces of cards like it's marijuana. " "that's good. i shall give you my daughter's hand in marriage. now. " and so on. yes. singapore is a home for the truly disturbed. thanks. 
