my blind spot

2007-05-23T01:58:00.000+08:00

Initially I thought I had it all planned out
I thought I knew where I was going
I thought it was all clear, fogless and all
Then I took a step, thinking it was forward
somehow
I moved backwards
I didn't go towards where I wanted my feet to take me
I went the opposite direction

Then I'm lost

Because
I wasn't even heading towards my destination at all
I didn't lose sight of it
I can still see it
But the wind's blowing me in the opposite direction
But I'm not going there at all

Suddenly, I can't see it
And I'm moving anywhere
But in the right direction

Tyranny of the Pseudo Princess

2007-04-20T03:09:00.001+08:00

A princess she is, they doll her up
Too pampered, she doesn't admit
"I'm just well treated!"
In contending tones, she claims

"Put yourself in others' shoes!"
Her slogan she spasmodically displays
The world revolves around her
That's the way she perceives

But too quick is she
Judging others by their flaws
Assumptions she always makes
Crumbling others' fortress and camouflaged behind her own

A Concoction

2007-03-14T21:05:00.000+08:00

Add
A pinch of sugar
2 teaspoons of smiles
3 tablespoons of hugs
4 scoops of chocolate

Minus
A pinch of jealousy
2 teaspoons of scowls
3 tablespoons of lies
4 scoops of tears

Gimme an ounce of hope
Three grams of happiness
Four kilograms of dreams
Five morsels of optimism

Plus a little politeness, courtesy-

Pretty please? :)

Say it isn't so

2007-03-10T08:49:00.000+08:00

Take the bells off the jester's cape
Take the smile off the clown

Take the colours from the rainbow
Take the light off the day

Take the stars from the sky
Take the darkness, cloud the daybreak's light

Isn't that your forte?
Your eminence you can't hide

Bestir

2007-03-07T01:10:00.000+08:00

Leave the debris in its wake
Thread your footsteps through the rubble
Crack your head against broken cement
Drop your fantasies that are becoming unreal

Outreached arms grabbing thin air
Flailing for your attention
All's too late, the moment's passed
You saunter off, a better person

Throw on an ambling gait,
Someone worthier, you undeniably deserve
A sweeter dream, a beauteous fantasy
An euphoric glow in your face, I proclaim you warrant finer!

The Swing - Story II

2007-03-04T07:21:00.000+08:00

Once upon a time, there was a playground with an old swing by the edge of the lake in the park. Why at the edge of the lake you ask? Well, with such an old swing, one would suspect the swing would either

a) have some supernatural powers or
b) have some dark urban legend attached to it

But no, today our swing is just an ordinary old swing with rusty hinges and a worn out tire as a seat.

So what’s with our old swing you ask again? You see, I’m not very sure too. I just found this old swing by the side of the lake where I loved to fish.

Oh yes, fishing was one of my favourite pastime. I could spend the entire day sitting out there by the playground at the edge of the lake waiting for my catch.

Then again, what’s the catch? Oh, don’t be mistaken, I don’t wait for fish. Well not the animal that lives in the lake that is. The fish I wait for are far more delicious than those slimy, disgusting denizens of the murky depths.

Sometimes I wonder why humans love to eat fish so much, especially the Japanese (they even eat it raw, those idiots). Fish has this smell that I can’t stand, not that I actually have a nose or a sense of smell, but from just looking at those silly eyes and their gaping mouth, I know straightaway that children taste much better.

Ah… Which makes me arrive at the crucial point of my story. Why children you ask? You sure have a lot of questions, don’t you? Anyway, children love playgrounds and I love to eat children. That’s how it works. So how do I go about fishing children for my meals? Here’s the secret. Don’t tell anyone yea?

Children adore swings. The older, the rustier, the dirtier, the more dangerous, the more the children love them. While they ride on it, they forget about almost everything, they won’t even remember why they are dead the very next moment! Seeing those innocent smiles on their faces bring such joy to me, for I know, like the Japanese who love their fish raw, I love my children raw too.

Like how little children adore swings, I adore their eyeballs. I just love the sound it makes, that little squish, when I chew on them. My favourite has got to be green eyes, they taste like mint. Black eyes taste the worst. I don’t even want to describe how it feels to eat black eyeballs. The feeling just… disgusts me!

Oh yes, don’t worry about the bones. I’m not a chronic litter bug. I love to throw my trash where they belong. More like where I usually work. Down by the other side of the lake, that’s where the cemetery lies. Little children have the littlest bones, so I have absolutely no problem trying to hide them in someone else’s coffin. Pardon me, Amen.

Here comes another! A little girl called Nancy. Or Alice. Or whatever. Their names don’t really matter. Because to a Grim Reaper like me with a unique taste for young blood, what matters most is they love the swing. Yummy.

- by a friend of mine

Untitled

2007-02-28T17:40:00.000+08:00

A changed man he became
But who was to know
for the poor maiden was quietly sobbing
and waiting for him to turn back time

To the times where she was the only
His affection was unequaled
Unduly worried she became
Maiden's tears flood the rivers

Little did she know he sat across
Pining for her longing for her assurance
But her gaze drifted far from his reach
An irrevocable love cast away by her

Italics are by a friend, miss tjt. :)

The Swing

2007-02-28T05:23:00.000+08:00

Once upon a time there was a playground with an old swing by the edge of the lake in the park.

Xena loves to hang out at the old swing. This swing overlooks everything, from across the lake to way beyond, way beyond where she could ever reach or ever be at.

Xena loves to hog the swing. She will wake up in the wee hours of the morning, gobble down last night’s dinner that she envisions as breakfast, and rushes towards the swing just to be the first person to ride that swing.

She will climb atop the swing; push herself as far as she can ever go.

Whoosh! The wind blows past her shirt.

Whoosh! The wind blows past her cheeks.

Whoosh! The wind blows her hair straight out, a sheet of black.

She loves the sound of wind in her ears. All her nightmares are cleared the moment she starts swinging on that swing.

She even believes that the swing has magical powers! The night before she falls asleep, she will pray that the swing will bring her the worst nightmare she could ever have in her life.

You may not see the point in her seemingly silly prayers, but her point is – if she swings hard and the swing is still able to swing her fears away, it will prove that the swing is really magical!!!

So this particular night, she wished and prayed extremely hard for the worst nightmare in her life. She did not know why, but she felt that she needed even more affirmation that this swing is magical.

That night, she dreamt that a giant monster had taken over to swing.

The giant monster climbed atop the swing.

To and fro, to and fro he swings. The poor swing creaks under the weight of the giant monster, almost as though it is screaming out for help.

Xena really wanted to help. But this giant monster was 3 times her size, even if she threw rocks at it, the rocks just bounced off his body and he would not even feel a single itch.

Finally, the poor swing could no longer take the immense torture this monster is inflicting onto it. It gave an almighty loud creeaaakkk and splash!!! The swing gave its final bubble from the lake (or maybe it was the giant monster’s last breath).

Xena woke up in perspiration (a lady does not sweat, she perspires). She wiped her brow, gobbled down her last night’s dinner that she thought was breakfast, and went to where the swing was, down beside the lake.

She climbed atop the swing like any other morning, but today, she swung the hardest. She needed to get the nightmare out of her mind. Awfully traumatised, she kept looking around for a giant monster that may appear to snatch away her golden seat (she thinks it is HER golden seat even though there is only one seat) and got distracted as she swung harder and harder.

She was so focused on looking for the giant monster that she could not hear the complaining creak from the swing that was getting louder and louder.

Suddenly she felt the wind blowing against her hair, clothes and face even stronger than before. Then she was grabbing air and her butt was in the air. She was no longer on her golden seat – she had flown off the seat and towards the lake she flew!

Splash!

Her poor life ended with a water display. The swing gave its final creak, thinking to itself that the giant monster in the nightmare it gave her is actually herself – Xena.

Poor Xena! For her whole life (which was not that long anyway), she had deluded herself that the swing is ridding her of her nightmares. Instead, this evil swing is giving her those nightmares. But we cannot possibly blame the swing, can we? Xena swings the swing so hard that it creaks endlessly, but she ignores it. So does she deserve the death swim?

Well, we can’t say for sure, but this swing really does have magical powers!

Author's note: Once again, this story is purely fictional and any resemblance to any person or incident is purely coincidental! This was written in exchange for another story - the friend has to write on the same first line, with his own story! :) I'll post his up later.

About - The Girl Who Drinks Too Much Water

2007-02-28T04:20:00.000+08:00

Gulp gulp gulp!

That was her 15th cup of the day. She loves the feeling of the smooth liquid gliding down her throat, the coolness bringing her body temperature down one notch, just enough to make her feel like she can face the world. Yes, face the world with a degree-lighter body temperature and of course, a smoother throat.

Did I mention that this 15th cup of the day is drunk at 11am in the morning? Guess not. She woke up at 10am, by the way.

She says this to herself every single day, at least once every hour: If I don’t drink enough, I’ll dehydrate! I’ll look like all those shrinking, wrinkled and ugly radishes with brownish skin. Why, even SK II won’t help!

Of course, she’s also a diligent user of SK II products. All the money (or almost all) that’s supposed to go to food goes to SK II products. She has all the whitening series, hydrating series, etc. Her motto is: Moisturising is the key to success!

But her poor stomach is fully traumatised! It feels all bloated and “over-nourished” with all the goodness of water that she’s been drinking. The last count that I managed to do accurately (it’s hard to count as she hides herself in her room to drink too) was 35 glasses of water per day! Darn, I don’t even drink 8 glasses per day. With these 35 glasses, she not only chases the doctor away, the poor doctor has to go one round and come back.

One day, she felt even more dehydrated than ever. She gulps down all the water her mom boiled and prepared for her forever-feeling-dehydrated daughter (3 huge kettles), and went on to drink more. She drank from everywhere, well almost everywhere. She drank straight from the tap. Since it was raining that day and she was out, she drank straight from the rain.

When the rain stopped, she scooped some clear water from that puddle at the side of the road and poured it down her throat. It may not be as smooth as treated water, but it will do. She drank and drank, almost non-stop. Well, I wanted to count for you readers, but she was too fast and I was distracted by the rainbow that appeared just after the rain! I wouldn’t want to give you guys an inaccurate number, would I?

So anyway, she drank until she felt her stomach would burst, and continued drinking! She drinks all kinds of liquids now. She wanted to compare the smoothness of each kind of liquid – dishwashing liquid, coke, cold medicine, etc.

Then she fainted.

What a sad ending to her life! She died in the hospital due to an overdose of liquids, or water, that her face was so smooth and her stomach was even smoother- because they were all stretched out due to the extreme intake of liquids. And guess what? Her stomach burst on her way to the hospital! The different kinds of liquid painted the insides of the ambulance a really beautiful rainbow colour.

Go take a look, there’s fuchsia (from Bandung), electric blue (from Dynamo), lime green (from Mama Lemon), dark red (the blood of a dog she killed to drink plus her own), yellow (urine from a passerby – she just opened her mouth and waited) and violet (poison ivy’s leaves).

Note from author: This story is purely fictional. Any resemblance to any character or incident is purely coincidental.

The Spasdomic Mind

2007-02-26T07:49:00.000+08:00

A pang of sunlight jags my soul
This yearning hunger, please, begone!

Emotive striken, insomniac minds
To rest my eyes, I crave for doze

Plunging dams; literary floods unleashed
Allow poetic words to cleanse my soul

Demiurgic I am not, hear me out
May this be an ode, that appeals to no lout

The Waiting Game

2007-02-26T06:48:00.000+08:00

Almost a lifetime, you sit and pine
For a smile so sweet; you can say "she's mine"

Try owning her, heart and soul
She'll walk unfazed, away from your abode

Grip too tight; you'll crush the petal
Grip too loose; you'll lose it forever

(add-on)
Fruits will yield, despite the wait
For it's almost a lifetime, not an eternity

lead me back on track, somebody

2007-02-25T03:41:00.000+08:00

I'm lost, again.

Uncertainties are blinding my vision, shrouding my hopes and dreams with a black cape.

It's blocking my path. No, I just realized it's not. It's misting up, fogging my vision. I don't know what to do.

I'm filled with gnawing anxiety, worries and insecurities. Is this the route I really want to walk down? Is that what I envision myself to be? What makes me so sure that I can do it?

The number of questions corroding my confidence are countless. It's rusty already.

What am I to do now? :(

Feed me with large dosages of healing self-esteem; lend me a walking stick.

No, I won't be hand-held, I won't be spoon-fed. 'Tis a battle of my own, I fight it myself; or let me be owned.

2007-02-17T03:19:00.000+08:00

Poems can be easy to write, but not when you hafta fix them to rhyme, closed-form, sonnets, etc. This was written in less than 5 mins but I still hate to think of rhyming words. :( A lousy poem but oh well, maybe one day I'll find it useful. Heh.

Pack my lunches, pack my days
Pack my luggage, I'll move away

To the brim, fill me in
Worsen my health, it seems to dim

That's the way, I deem fit
To live my life, routes I'll pick

From 37°C to 900°C

2006-09-29T03:49:00.000+08:00

As I was laid down on the cardboard box, I felt my sense of hearing and touch peak. There were sounds of people wailing, screaming and crying their lungs out. I could hear the sounds of metal clanging and fire burning. And I know, very soon, the heat is going to take over my thoughts, feelings and touch…

Loneliness

I looked around in the sparse white room, watching the shadows move across the room as they gradually melt into the darkness. I stared up at the lamp, willing my body to move towards the switch and bring some brightness into my room again. My body refused to listen to my instructions, it refused to budge. I could only wait for someone to notice my presence and turn on the light for me.

I moved my fingers to the mobile phone near me. At first dialing those numbers I was familiar with, but all I heard were dial tones.

It was nothing but dial tones.

I kept scrolling down the list, dialing every number or name I recognized. No one picked up my call. Not even Mom.

I blinked hard, willing the tears of surrender to go back. The pounding ache in my head refused to go away, I squinted my eyes trying to force the pain out of my head. I wish the pain was at my legs, not my head…

Sadness

“When you’re done, come to the kitchen alright?”

He was not the kind to chit-chat to me about mundane matters; I could tell something was wrong.

He stared at the newspapers, wordless, while I sat there unable to start a conversation with him. He had never been kind with words; he always scolded me whenever he could. But this time, he dropped the papers, and brought his hands to his face, trying to hide his tears that were threatening to spill out of his eyes.

It was some ego thing I suppose? Men should only show their masculinity, and never their soft side. But for the first time, I saw my dad cry.

“I didn’t know it was so serious! You know I didn’t mean those things that I scolded you right? I didn’t know it’ll affect you so bad. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I’ll let her go. What if she commits suicide or goes crazy? You know I love you right? Your mom knows I love her right? Right?”

I did not know what to say. I could only watch my father cry. Words of reassurance like “all will be fine”, “mom would not leave you”, “mom still loves you” and “we’ll be there for you” are just empty promises. It was too late. Chances were given, warning signs were not heeded.

With those questions in his mind, he left the room in tears. He spent his lifetime slogging, not planning and taking everything for granted. His complacence shot him back. He lost all he had, except for those burning tears in his eyes…

Regret

As I stand before the tombstone, my mom’s picture glared back at me. I could feel her accusation and disappointment drowning the protests in my mind. I lowered my head and felt blood rush to my face.

“Son, let’s go down to get that tie you’ve been eyeing, shall we?”

“I’m busy, mom!”

“But it’s been ages since we last…”

“Mom!!! Can’t you see that I’m busy?!”

Mom’s following words were blocked out after that.

“Your mom’s been admitted to the hospital again.”

“Again?! This is like the 4^th time! I’ll go visit her when I’m less busy! I don’t have the time now.”

Thoughts of “if only” and “what if” overtook my mind. It was full of contradicting thoughts; I did not want to succumb to this burning in my throat. Why did I not just say those simple words? Was “sorry”, “I love you” and “thank you” that difficult?

The air was thick with emotions. There was regret, sadness and loneliness. In contrast, there was also indifference and impatience, with a tinge of greed mixed in between, though slight, but it was there.

I had felt them all. I had drowned in tears, I had given up and let go. I expressed gratitude, and I had beautiful times.

I could feel myself being slid towards the blazing heat, so hot I could hear it. The cracking flames took part in this competition of emotions that were racing to overtake each other. All sounds were soon lost. As I moved nearer and nearer to the beckoning warmth, I bid a silent farewell to the saturated emotions in the air.

I did not have the chance to flinch from the heat; neither did I have the chance to scream at the hotness of the flames and shout “that’s hot!” No one could have heard me anyway.

The fiery flames were searing into my toes, and slowly my body, as I was being pushed towards the burning furnace. Cells and tissues that made up my body are broken apart. The sweltering heat took over my mind.

Soon, what was left of me were grey specks of ashes and dust. As the wind picked up from the fire, it picked me up and sent me flying away into the wind. It blew me far from the unfeeling flames and furnace, far from the cake of emotions that were already dissipating before the wind picked up.

Frying Fish

2006-09-29T01:22:00.000+08:00

Sizzling pan, shimmering bubbles.
Dipped in flour and dumped in oil.
Unblinking eyes without an ounce of hope,
A long wait for its death.

Slathered in flour, poked with chopstick.
Helpless as a cornered beast and its tearless eyes.<
Limp and lifeless without an ounce of control,
A torturous climb to heaven.

Crispy skin, golden scales.
A prod on the left, a nudge on the right.
White flesh revealed its white surrender,
A sumptuous dinner for its murderers.

2005-11-09T12:34:00.000+08:00

Initial frosts melted
Apprehensive smiles exchanged
Shields let down, defences gone

Curiosity heightened
Questions piling up like snow
Hopes and expectations shown

Defences left crumbled
Hopes all dashed, smiles disappeared
Nought's left, but one's shattered hopes

it's so sad isn't it? unreciprocated love...

2004-11-01T03:58:00.000+08:00

he's always been there; she just ignored his presence.

it all started out with a phone call. he was just asking her about her work schedule and they just started talking about everything under the sun. it was great. both were open enough to discuss each other's lives. hence, bridging the gap that once was. and every night, he would find an excuse to call her. eventually, he ran out of excuses and just said, "can't i call you?"

she just said, "erm, ok..."

nights would always end off with her wanting him to put down the phone first and vice versa. he loves to hear her say good night in the Chinese way, thinking she sounds real sweet when she's saying that. he loves to see her in skirts, loves to see her tie her hair up in a ponytail. but she rarely does that, and he wonders why.

after work, they would go out for dinner together, taking the same bus.
he would sit next to her, hoping that she wouldn't take out her discman to listen, hoping that the bus ride would give him a chance to know her better, to let her know him better.

he's really happy when he finds out that she loves to take bus rides.
especially those pro-longed bus rides. she just loves to sit in the bus, to think or just to stone.

when she's on the bus with him, she just refuses to doze off. perhaps, at that point in time, she already liked him and didn't want to show her ugly side of herself. and even on the bus, as they chatted, they would begin bickering, and he would always give in to her. even if she's being extremely unfair and just throwing tantrums, he would give in just to see her smile again. and when she refuses to forgive him, he would despair, sitting there, not knowing what to do. his heart bleeding, and she wouldn't know. she was too selfish, perhaps to the extent that she was like 'torturing' him. the silence would eat at him, gnawing his heart but he's still at a loss.

but she wasn't really angry, and even if she was, she would be alright in awhile. but sometimes, given her playful nature, she just likes to pretend that she is and see his reaction. unknowingly, it warms her heart that he cares for her and that someone actually loves her.
his perseverance, his persistence is melting down her thick walls, those she built around her heart. but she didn't know.

at times, he would hint to her, observing her reaction. at times, she would test him, doing silly stuff like talking about her old crushes or talking about some cute guy she saw. he would remain silent. he didn't know what to say. he wanted to tell her he loves her, but perhaps he himself didn't know it at that point in time. didn't know she was the one causing his mood swings, causing his heart to thump quickly when he sees her. initially, she didn't really get it, it was till a much later part did she get it. she was just too self-centered.

after work, after dinner, he would send her home without fail. initially, she wouldn't allow him to. her house is not that near to his and she wouldn't want him to waste money on cab fare in case it’s too late. furthermore, he's not her boyfriend. he's not obliged to do so. after some persistence on his part and relenting on hers, he sent her home every night.

after work, they would do what couples do; watching movies, playing pool or just walking around. he would grab at any chance to go out with her and accommodate her. all his other appointments are pushed away and he would always leave his Saturdays open for her. even when she's not free, he would just stay at home, hoping by any chance she would call and ask if he wants to go out. he's given up on asking her out on Saturdays, her answers were always indefinite or refusal. he didn't want to show his disappointment and hence gave up asking. he didn't mind just meeting her to send her home, seeing her is enough. he wants to be there for her, to hold her when she's scared, to wipe her tears when she's sad, to hug her when she's down. just being there for her is enough. but she didn't know.

he gave up alot of things for her. smoking was something he did on a frequent basis. however, just after a plea from her, he stopped. he didn't treat his mom well back then, always taking her for granted. she was the only one who has managed to make him change his attitude towards his mom, and make him stop smoking. he changed so much for her, but she didn't know.

in between all these, he had to go back in for reservist. thinking that for that one whole week, he would not be able to see her, he was rather down, close to being devastated. but she agreed to come out during one of the days when he was able to book out early. wearing his army uniform, he waited for her. he wanted to treat her to something good. they ate and walked around. after some time, she insisted he go home to rest. she could tell that he's tired. he wanted to send her home, to see more of her. but she refused to let him. she knows he's tired. before he went off, he said he's really happy that day, because he saw her. he smiled cheerfully, and went off. but this was the last time they really went out on a date.

one saturday afternoon, both were at home messaging each other. she was going to quit work and start school in a week's time. he felt very apprehensive about it. to him, she's the prettiest girl he's ever met and to him, she'd definitely have queues of suitors going after her. he didn't want to lose her. finally, through sms, he told her he loved her, that he's never felt this way before and please could they be together? he had a feeling that he wouldn't get a positive reply. after all, they are from two different groups of people. she seems so smart to him, so different from him and so academically inclined. he's been prolonging the idea of getting a degree but after knowing her, he was almost on the track to getting signed onto a programme. he felt inferior to her, that he might not deserve her, but felt he should give it a try.

she didn't reply to his sms for hours and hours. he was tensed that whole afternoon, walking up and down the whole house, not knowing what he was doing. he just did everything absentmindedly, sitting in front of the tv, with the tv switched off. his handphone was just placed in front of him all the time, he just sat there, waiting for it to ring, to vibrate. dinner came and went, and there was still no reply. finally, he could take it no more and messaged her, asking if she could just reply, the contents are not that important, not yet. her reply came soon after that, asking him if he's joking and told him not to fool her anymore. at the back of her mind, she knew he likes her. but she didn't believe in the word 'love'. she just doesn't believe in it. that was one of the reasons why she was so repelled by the message. she was lost too. didn't know what to reply.

however, her selfishness cost her. she thought she didn't like him. wanting to test herself, when school restarted, she cut off all contacts from him. refusing to pick up his calls, not replying his sms unless absolutely necessary. he finally got the hint, and they slowly drifted apart. she didn't miss him during those weeks when they had no contact. he did miss her. but he could do nothing about it, she just refused to meet up with him. he knows by forcing her, she would be angry. he knows where she lives, but if he goes down to wait for her, he knows she'd never be talking to him again. so their love story was left hanging, without much of an opening and no closing.

a couple of months later, he met this girl from work who was willing to be there for him. his broken heart needed mending and the girl was willing to mend it for him. they grew closer and eventually, got together. what he didn't know is that she was already regretting, and wants to be together with him. she was already on the verge of telling him her decision when she heard news of him being together with another girl. heart broken as she was, there was nothing she could do. she let him go. she literally pushed him away. she broke his heart. all she could do was to see them walking closely together, holding hands and looking lovingly into each other's eyes. it could have been her. but she was too selfish, thinking of only herself. he didn't know anything of her change of mind, so treated her as normal, but it wasn't like before. he didn't want to fall for her again when he's attached; he's got his principles. all she could do was to think of all those if-onlys and regret. it is all too late. her selfishness has cost her. her distrust, the walls she built around her heart cost her.

he's found his girl but she is still there, pinning for the love that could have been but never will be.

2004-10-23T01:39:00.000+08:00

the mountain of hope,
the castle of dreams i built upon him.
the fog of misjudgements,
the misleading screen...

all blinded my vision
and made me strut right past
the one who's meant to be,
and there's noone else to blame...

2004-10-23T01:10:00.000+08:00

its like a brew of likes and dislikes,
of interests and disinterests.
its like a mixture of conflicting feelings,
of jealousy and lies.
its like a confusion of e meaning of trust,
miscommunication and thwarted words.
e wringing and twisting of hearts,
moisture upon face.

to e loss of interest and hope,
e heavy burden of trust i laid upon him,
resulted in me losing him.
thats life, move on...

2004-09-23T03:01:00.000+08:00

understanding...
sometimes knowing too much isn't all that good...
it opens up a whole new chapter of the other person...
a different viewpoint, a different understanding...

time...
heals all wounds...
drifts scars open and makes them wider too...
the distance apart, the small amount of time spend just drags u apart...

silence...
ain't all that golden...
it actually shows the gap between u two...
e lack of common topics, lack of common interest, a lack of understanding...

not everything's as wonderful, as golden as they may seem...
stop building false hopes...
crash them, burn them, bury them.

Reality

2004-09-01T04:46:00.000+08:00

it crashes down, suffocating you.
it presses you in, depriving you of space to breath.
binding you, robbing you only freedom.
restricting you, stealing your choices away.

when you dash away,
it grabs you by your hair and wrenches u back,
the pain piercing into your consciousness,
creeping into your conscience.

try sneaking past it,
its unforgiving hand twists your neck.
pulling and dragging,
stabbing you awake.

Mistakes

2004-09-01T04:39:00.000+08:00

the wrong time, wrong era, wrong generation, wrong space.
the right person, right lover, right soulmate, right husband.
the mistaken decision, mistaken signals, mistaken words.
the misunderstandings caused, misunderstood feelings, misunderstood emotions.

All accumulated to a mistaken belief of true love,
causing a vicious cycle of distrust, loss of faith and disappointment.

2004-09-01T02:00:00.000+08:00

i only need someone who loves me truly...
someone whom i can return the love...
someone who promises to be there
someone who doesn't break his promises...

i don't need anyone who mumbles sweet nothings but mean none of it...
anyone who claims he'd wait but is with another girl the next time you see him...
anyone who juggles girls as professionally as the clown...
anyone who is just out to have fun and play with girls...

Perpetual Lies

2004-08-29T22:10:00.000+08:00

A mirror of deceit, a mirage of lies.
An image of distorted truths, of empty promises left unkept.
Like the wheels of a mighty windmill, scheming distorted minds chuggled.
Like an ignorant hurricane, paying no heed to damages.

Spinning the mind, distorting logic and reason,
Twirling ugly lies into superficial oaths.
With an imaginary magic wand idly held,
winding hearts into knots.

Hope and trust built like the twin towers,
crushed and grinded by terrors in their minds.
Walls of defence shot up to the edges of the sky,
Seemingly impenetratable like the walls of Troy.

And the cycle continues, seemingly never ending.
Weak is the human heart, lessons unlearnt.
Lies and deceit wormed through again,
Raw flesh rubbed with salt.

2004-08-28T01:46:00.000+08:00

When you find arms that will hold you at your weakest,
Eyes that will see you at your ugliest,
Lips that will kiss you in both instances
And a heart that will love you at your worst,
Then you've found true love.

Day 1

He is just standing there, like he has always been. Alone, buried in his own thoughts. I wish I could just decipher him, this complicated, incomprehensive love puzzle.

Day 2

Got to know him through a mutual friend. He seems even nicer that I thought he would be. Just seeing him smile has made my heart melt. I cannot imagine being able to say hi to him. It is amazing what love can do to you.

Day 3

We started talking. We talked about everything under the sun. He was really nice and caring and I began to like him even more. However, feelings of insecurity and inferiority keep creeping over my warm heart, like ice is to sun. Will my heart be warm enough to melt this iceberg? I'm falling in love. Will he catch me?

Don't be too good, I will miss you.
Don't be too caring, I might like you.
Don't be too sweet, I might fall for you.
For it will be hard for me to love you
When you don't love me at all.

Day 4

We arranged to meet up at the concourse in school. He promised the day before to play his guitar and sing for me after my incessant begging. At one empty classroom, only with the sounds of the fan swirling, he sang to me. I fell deeper and deeper, into this abyss of love. What if he's not there to catch me? There might be roses underneath but there are thorns...

I must go now.
Don't hold me with your eyes and
Reach your heart across the room like that
Or my own will break.
Love you? Of course I love you...
That's why I have to go, before you know how much...

But do I have the courage, the strength to let go?
I doubt not.

Day 5

He ignored me. Not only ignoring me, ignoring my presence, my smiles and even my un-proclaimed love. It hurts, hurts a lot. I felt my heart being torn apart. As if it is slowly shredded, peeled apart the way you would peel an apple.

It's when he ignores you, yet you pretend he doesn't.
It's when you know he loves another, yet you still build castles of hope.
It's when you are hurt by him, yet you find excuses for him.

Perhaps he is going through a rough patch, a dark stage in his life. It must be.

Day 6

He started confiding in me. I should be feeling happy as this signifies trust. But he confided about him liking some other girl, even asking me for advice. It feels as if my shredded and peeled heart is being tortured again. Over the same raw wounds, his words scratch it over and over again. I wish I could just tell him I would be there for him, that he is not alone. Those tears welling up in his eyes are like salt to my wounded heart. My heart bleeds. But I can't cry, not in front of him.

I can't tell you I care,
I can't tell you my feelings but it's there.
I can't tell you I want to stay,
I can't tell you I love you 'cause you might go away.

I'm scared, terrified to be exact. I fear rejection.

Day 7

He heeded my advice and gathered courage to go after her. I took my own advice and searched for courage to profess my love for him. I must have been mad to do so. He said sorry and told me to forget him. After saying that he is not the one for me, he went away.

How do I say goodbye to someone I never had?
Why do tears fall for someone who was never mine?
Why is it that I miss someone I could never be with?
Why do I love someone whose love can never be mine?

Day 8

You might never realize how much I miss you when you're not around or how much feelings I actually have for you. It doesn't matter. Love is often about giving, not taking.
But I'm afraid to love again.

2004-08-20T01:49:00.000+08:00

buried under, arms restrained
suffocated, body pinned down
drowned in water, dreams afloat

hands outstretched,
reaching to the top.
he shoved me back,
to the end of the cliff.
he disappears.
eyes and darkness meets.
despair rises, blanketed fear.
will i succumb?

2004-08-09T23:26:00.000+08:00

love, a wispy leaf.
a gentle sea breeze,
a fragile hope.

love, a heavy hammer.
a giant thunderstorm,
a broken heart.

love, an evil mask.
a veil of lies,
shattered dreams.