Monday, February 25, 2013

Sincerely, me

There's something you should know
I've been trying for hours
So long they've tumbled into days and weeks to conjure up a storm
Of literary resonances caused by
The sparks of your tentative digits
I'll try today
But you'll have to forgive me
If I struggle to compress;
The density in my bones
Palpitations of my confessional organ
The bated breath, the dizzying highs
All of this;
Either you or yours
Into configurations of fiction suddenly real

Through silent incantation I will myself
To commit this to memory
All of you
and all of me
Us.



Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Hello you, I never knew

Sunday, February 10, 2013

hiss

Happy Lunar New Year you guys!

Hope the weather hasn't succeeded in dampening your moods, despite the occasional spray of dirty road water on backs of calves while traipsing about different houses and suede shoes stained to the point of no salvation. I feel my fervor for the occasion dwindling in ferocity as I get older, but still find myself slave to the bottles of baked goods and slivers of sweet barbecued meat, that have replaced all main meals and turned my days into round-the-clock snacking on them.

I got a new ukulele hence the shameless flaunting in a series of photobooth pictures out of pure boredom and narcissism which I frequently indulge in. Just twiddling thumbs and cooling off after a good workout before my 3rd reunion dinner begins. I'm going to be lamenting on how quickly this holiday passes in a few days.









Saturday, February 9, 2013

binary mind



Volatile creatures.

I sometimes so desperately want to evade humanity; escape from the clutches of such ruthless beings and their ministrations.

I don't want to hurt.

A double entendre. I don't want to be the victim as much as I don't want to be the perpetrator. Been feeling very stifled by the very idea of life itself. And the absurdity yet apparent realness of the fear that by the time I'm snuffing out the candles on my birthday cake I might be surrounded by only half the people I wanted to be present at the start of the year. I must be atrocious at maintaining friendships. I think about the number of people I used to bare my soul to who have become nothing but fuzzy faces in even hazier memories from a time so long ago. The thought then leads to the question: Was it me or was it you?

I feel like I harp on the same things all the time, and I liken myself to a ticking time bomb. When I go off I'm just going to wreck all the people I love with my insecurities and hypersensitivity and I guess that makes me volatile. And human. Human of the year.



I'll wrap up my bones
And leave them
Out of this home
Out on the road

Sunday, February 3, 2013

self-examination

I like fairy lights, soft layers of chiffon in pastels and drapes, although I almost never wear pastels. Stumbling upon hole-in-the-wall cafes dishing up classic teatime fare, taking the train and getting off at a stop far away from home, and then exploring on my own. I like it when someone brings up something I thought was silly or insignificant from a conversation ages ago; something I myself struggle to remember. When you're in the company of someone and a passing thought becomes a spoken word and that person shares the same sentiments and the both of you lapse into a kind of content silence - a comfortable silence. I like stripped and destroyed brick walls, windows from the floor to the ceiling, mismatched frames, dark wood and candles, furry rugs. Talking over mugs of green tea lattes and hot cocoa, smiling over the rims, wearing oversized band tees. I think I like my bed too much, and the light I let in when half my blinds are drawn, vegetating under the paper lanterns woven into my bedframe. I like thinking, even if I mostly over do it, because it makes me feel like I care, even if it's too much sometimes. Bon Iver, Bombay Bicycle Club's Flaws, Kings of Convenience, Ben Howard turned down low. The knowledge of mutual attraction, leading to the tentative touch from suddenly trembling hands. The subtle flirtations of two compatibly intelligent minds, the little games and the little glances. Catching someone looking at you and both offender and victim are immediately bashful, evasively avoiding each other until the next time your eyes meet again. Having your favourite food or colour or band or song remembered, because somebody actually cares enough. I like lyrics that speak to you the instant you hear them, and you always anticipate them the subsequent plays. The scenarios movies plant in your head, the scenarios you conjure up to give yourself something; anything to look forward to. Not being able to stop talking to someone and get to bed and you complain but actually, you don't really mind. The pleasure a good ol' grilled ham and cheese sandwich can deliver. Shopping for home furnishings at IKEA. I like peanut butter breath, late night suppers in paper boxes, and afternoon cuddles in a dark room when it's pouring outside. Nestling in the crook of one's neck, skimming my nose over the clavicle and slope of the shoulders - tracing with the lips. The searing heat between the skin of his back and his shirt. I like long letters and short notes messily scribbled as if in the complete spur of the moment, as if he had to get it down on paper. The jolting accidental brush of forearms or feet or hands. The tiniest smidgeon of faith, hope, love; in a moment of complete darkness, provided by the most unexpected person.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Content just to remain in this state partaking in all sorts of singular activities,
I am okay