the last day of summer

2010-02-17T01:25:00.004Z

randomly, you dumped yourself into one of those red seats. you didn't pick numbers for
the sake of it anymore. you didn't even care to note the details on those orange slips, was
it the scheduled time? did you get the date right? were you heading the right place? the
last strands of whites and browns you picked off your long sleeves reminded you of every
little and big thing that the train literally trucked you away from, hastily. and you wouldn't
admit that you wished it could slow down. it wouldn't make any difference anyway. you
wished that that moment could freeze. in fact, you had wished for many other moments to
freeze too. seriously, you needed to realise that they were never going to. you need to. the
mind kept switching to blanks, and you simply forced it, pushed it and over worked it. you
desperately wanted to see, to think, to breathe, to smell, to remember, to not forget. so you
began tracing back the last two thousand eight hundred and eighty minutes before you got
into this transition. you hadn't slept a wink but you could barely feel it, because there were
so much more to be felt. anger, nerves, fright, ache, worry, anxiety, empathy, shame, urge,
sick, strength, faith, gratitude, grit, drive, grief, empty, placid, flat, doubt, trauma, fucked.
these ideas didn't swarm you altogether, they came orderly, one after another, few seconds
each and in repetition. the train darted into a tunnel which broke your chainsaw of thoughts.
lights and sounds were eliminated as abruptly as sanity was returned to your head, until the
rail escaped out of pitch darkness, back into the grey skies and greenless trees again. hello
reality! you didn't keep count of the number of times you had greeted her in two days. she
couldn't be more candid with you, you returned the gesture with no less. you had given up
challenging her, running away from her and even attempting to build a bridge with and to
her. you simply allowed her to rape you. you have never been so intense yet complying at
the same time. the picture outside the window stopped moving. it was time. you wrestled
with the load on your shoulders, to keep a balance, to walk properly and to look ordinary.
you felt like the heaviest possible thing that existed, and everyone around including every
non-living thing that was stuck to the ground was floating. you needed to lose that weight
or your head. you tried to convinced yourself, "i am not dying, i am struggling to survive."

run

2010-02-10T11:54:00.002Z

away from the snow stuck between those rubbers,
where the flakes, bits and traces cannot leave trails behind.
run away from the person you wanted to be,
that person that you thought you almost were.
maybe you can try telling yourself it is better this way,
so that it's easier to forget you've wanted it the other way.
the wind will smack you repeatedly, and in your face,
the grounds will grind your feet mercilessly and push your legs behind your chest.
you just bite your teeth and keep that chin above your neck,
stay in that same motion, that one direction.
run away from the questions you couldn't find answers to,
the answers you didn't find time to fill,
the letters without envelopes, stamps or addresses,
the alphabets inside folders, stuck in a device, inside your pocket,
outdated, unsent, and you are still too scared to touch.
the numbers, the dates, the events you hadn't penned.
the things, the places, the entries you hadn't stored.
those things you clenched inside your head,
the flashes, vivid moments, familiar sounds, comfort zones,
words spoken, scotching sun, laser beams, narrow corridors,
pouring rain, dimmed staircases, frosty walks, racing hearts,
chasing dreams, short changes, mingy chances,
sugared jars, crunchy boxes, takeaways,
bottles, bulbs, tickets, transactions, needles, ink, blood,
photographs, clouds, trains, boats, seagulls, trucks,
tubs, wings, cocoa, fabrics, tokens, prizes, threads, stitches,
drives, rides, cards, tiles, cigarettes, secrets, frills, thrills,
scenes, sins, couch, grouch, sheets, shits, desire, tire,
trials, flops, pride, shame, joy, pain, faith, dismay,
merits, discredits, harvest, stride, stakes, plates,
brawl, silence, elation, swing, good, bad, best, worst,
love, hope and short of one leap.
something, everything, anything and just nothing in between.
run, even if you don't know where you are heading,
doesn't matter whether you aren't ready,
don't have the right shoes, haven't got a map,
or you actually don't really want to.
at least you will somehow get somewhere.

i am not afraid of running,
the hardest part of all, is leaving you.

lift

2010-02-03T22:56:00.000Z

lucky for us,
you still have words to type, on a canvas i can read.
and i feel each letter from punctuation to number,
without an indication which indicates a lot, and too well.

lucky for you,
that i remember by hard, the words that have been spoken,
way before anything had happened.
and did you think i was too drunk,
or delirious. too swallowed or maybe wrapped up.

lucky for me,
my eyes seek for lights in this pitch.
i hear things that do not entirely find their ways to mine.
i threw your hands away, and you simply had them hidden by your hips.
just so today comes again,
that i can still have an idea of how a grip looks like.

sobreviviente

2010-01-31T08:07:00.000Z

love is an incredible thing.
it makes us do wonderful things,
and then it blinds us from the pain we do to others
when we start to center ourselves with "self".
i am guilty.

love is so enormous yet it is too weak to live on its own.
and constantly we take it for granted till we start kicking our heads
when our grants are up.
too many people will agree yet do nothing about.
i keep slapping myself for tripping over a stone,
knowing too well another will come my way not too far away.
until the fall cripples me finally,
too late but just in time to learn.
and i mean learn.

my arms are never very strong,
but they are going to remain stretched,
this time in the right way.

around i, the vows

2010-01-24T23:02:00.000Z

for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer,
in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish;
from this day forward until death do us part.

all the words i can find

2010-01-15T09:17:00.002Z

2010-01-08T09:25:00.000Z

i have plenty of ink.

eighteen months later

2010-01-06T08:49:00.000Z

what happened to her white rims and seat.
why did you make her shoulder an ugly black haversack.

2009-12-26T17:20:00.003Z

home, brings about all kinds of emotions, and i have been trying extremely hard,
to keep up with her surprises on a daily basis.

tampines feels a load lesser like home than it used to, to me at least.
marine parade feels as sexy as ever, since sixteen years ago.
orchard has gotten quite scary. i dont know how to keep up with her.
i am still trying to feel for pasir ris. but at least i know her arms have always been opened.

there are a few places i realise i will probably never go to again,
a few others i know that i have clearly been banned from.
i am not as angry anymore, not for long at least.
i am not as prideful anymore, partially because i havent a lot left.
i am not less optimistic, because i have seen a lot worse.
i am not without fear, just that i have learnt to live with it.
i am not hopeless, i still have a happy handful of those.

the year is ending, and i am still holding on to my imaginary baton,
looking for someone to pass it onto.

"its not a relay, keep going!"

2009-12-19T13:43:00.000Z

i walked me to a corner,
cupping both ears with my palms,
pretending not to know, not to remember, not to hear.
refraining from saying, screaming, raging.
but i cannot not feel.

what do they want from us?
why does she spit in our path?
how do i go on from here?
where can i run, to you?

my hand is still with you, even though it is good as empty.

i have been waiting for you to get off the middle,

so i can leave this corner.

with me

2009-12-17T16:24:00.002Z

come out and play.

craze

2009-12-09T07:46:00.001Z

it is extremely idiotic to wake up in the morning
remembering the repulsive things i said the night before,
and wishing i had chosen different words.

this has kept my hands from literally pulling your hair out from your head
and my heart still in your hands.

crazy, to be fighting about the same things for the last three years.
and crazy enough, to be passionate about the same thing for the last three years.

tuesdays with morrie

2009-10-27T22:43:00.000Z

i watched this film a few years ago,
got stuck to it and subtly announced how much i liked,
or appreciated its meaning but never got around to practise it.
today i chanced upon its title,
and remembere what the story tells anyone who watches it.

would i have lived my life differently?
no, because there was no way i would have known how i could have,
better lived it.
not that i am having the most fantastic time of mine,
but simply because out of its worst,
i have done, in my best capacity to let my worst/best be known.
and i have dove hard and far as i could, though not should.
i have wanted and let my wants be known,
loved, though not particularly correctly, but with my hardest.

wanting and on top of loving.
because i know i cannot say the word love correctly,
i cant only feel it.
because i can only want and show/tell/demand how much i do.
i want. it is a desire.
love is such a noble feeling that i can only feel,
but not correctly execute.

ten

2009-10-06T21:34:00.003+01:00

and then more to come, in patterns of alteration.

everyone should give ris low a break.
i dont know very much about the saga but i know everyone deserves a second
(or even third) chance especially if they have shown that they have been trying
to be better. and as for the spoken language,
stop blaming us who speak lousy english
because we have been taught bad english.

the rain is a warmer day and the sun is a colder one.
i cant decide which i prefer because neither is pleasurable at all.

i cant stand myself for not being able to decide,
but i cant stand people who make decisions but walk all over them after that, even more.

i didnt realise that i have no more weekends left, here,
in this apartment that i sit right now.
i didnt think i will be so comfortable in this shell that i have been hiding in,
for a good few months that i loathed this place and
what it has piled upon my shoulders and then back.
i honestly believe that i might actually miss it, one day.
and one day is ten nights away.

more than a decade ago, i used to run quite fast. i can still run,
reasonably fast these days, just short of the distance and stamina.
but i know that howover slow i do, you wont stroll over to catch up, with me.

i thought that i have been safely lifted off a distane pretty far away
from the sphere of advertising and to be more precised,
the sentimental part of brain storming, spontaneous ideas,
w.i.p (work in progress) sessions, draft and re-drafts, triple re-amendments,
client versus creativity, passion versus demand and ulitmately me versus that other me.
but it has been haunting me, and i disgustingly miss it.

today, i told someone - please, stop saying. just do it.

down two

2009-09-30T13:37:00.002+01:00

i just want to feel that way,
with thirty four to go.
not this much, but just that bit, more.
not always, but just for that time being.

many days that have left for some days left

2009-09-25T15:24:00.003+01:00

september it is again, black.
with larger things slamming their weights on larger grounds,
for me to pant but thank, to have been missed.
i counted the tomorrows i have been able to call yesterdays,
and watched those around me who were not lucky enough,
they were a couple of strokes short of keeping their heads above that water.

have i been away,
to not have seen, spoken to and touched them before fate did,
or have i been away,
to not have been the one that fate met.

yes i should laugh, at myself for whining like a child i refuse to grow out of.

i count the number of items that slowly reduce themselves,
in the hall, the room, the kitchen, the floors.
as the number of days that are left decrease,
with the minute and then hour of daylight.
these days, change loosens its cuffs and holds my hand.
i am not very sure if it feels comfortable,
but i am certain i do not have a say.

in many ways i have not been shortchanged,
and i know that, better.

clean thoughts

2009-09-07T20:52:00.006+01:00

i hate parallel lines,

not because they never will meet.

but because they look too alike, whichever way you look at them.

i learned somewhere, that dreams do come true,

not with hands you hold on to but hands that hold on to you.

i watched titanic twice.

and i am looking forward to watch it a 3rd time this wednesday.

11 years later.

i often wonder, what if tomorrow does not come,

thats why i yearn to ask every question and say every word that i feel for today.

things fall, though not always into place like the way we want them to,

but somehow they will land somewhere even though they are all over the place.

at least we know we can still pick them up if we take the effort to make our way out.

i did not fancy the idea of gravity,

because it restricts movements and intended distances.

then recently i realised that i prefer to be grounded,

than be drifting in a vacuum or taken away in helium.

when you live in another time zone,

everyone at home(7 hours ahead) thinks that you are perpetually online,

only because they notice you when you are one of the few names left on the list during the oddest hour when everyone else is not.

and that is your evening.

i have been hearing this too irritatingly often.

pulling yourself away from the big picture gives a better, clearer view.

and it irritates not because i hear it so often but because it makes too much sense.

i have offended many people in my life.

the logical reason why i can still hold my head up (though not so high) to walk on,

is because i know i am not bad enough to be the worst.

and i still remain as the best, for a precious few.

the few essentials that i have lost and felt being without before,

like help, faith, trust, direction, security and the list goes on.

but i am glad to be carved with a penchant for hope,

which has never been taken away from me.

yet.

it's alright

2009-09-03T16:32:00.001+01:00

because all is not lost.

happy birthday to my mom

2009-08-18T15:26:00.000+01:00

i honestly can never remember her age,

without calculating the years. it is my shame.

my mom.

she never fails to scream at me, at the worst of times,

or dig me out from my pits with her words, in the nick of time.

her words, mostly conveying nothing at all,

are just repetitions of questions from last week,

and every other last weeks.

yet that short of variety is her abundance of love.

her endless forgiveness, my countless mistakes.

her door never once shut, however many times i've walked out of it.

i counted on the nicest words she had said,

whenever i performed the nastiest blunders.

she wiped them off the page when i couldnt bring me to,

and reminded me i was doing just fine when i was far from it.

just so i have one excuse less to walk myself to the edge.

this is the first, in 29 years that i am here, and she is there.

2009-08-15T14:45:00.005+01:00

some things do not find they ways to the tip, or the top.

they cut holes and slit exits, escaping the queue of time,

committing faults despite there being no regulations nor rules,

not intended for amusement, though.

so how well does one handle pranks?

with a sack of salt? or with a thick tipped and black colored marker?

i fancy the latter, not by choice.

it crosses out and reminds one of the places not to go. again.

it conceals the tampered with cache that cannot be thrashed.

what was that five-letter word i cannot seem to recall the sequence of its spelling,

too easy and with ease. you must be kidding me.

i have given most of mine away and free,

now just take the rest of what is left too.

i do not need any, anymore.

no, we didnt expect this, and what exactly, i do not really know.

keeping it simple

2009-08-12T12:58:00.002+01:00

+ there are many drivers in manchester who make pedestrians smile, simply by giving way.
+ i have gotten synced with the pace of the country, though i am not very sure if that is a good thing, yet.
+ it is a fortune to grow up in singapore, and unfortunately it only takes one away to realise that.
+ i love talking to my mom over the phone, when i call her but not when she calls me. i think i need to adjust that.
+ i honestly think that my desire to own a blackberry is a luxury, not a necessity.
+ i really hope to be able to ignite those charcoals in that disposable barbecue pit i bought more than 3 months ago, very soon.
+ if you think you know everything about electronics, technology, gadgets and what not, try living here. everything we have in singapore is fed into our mouths with a golden spoon and 2 hands.
+ when i got ripped naked of the things i used to have, it becomes unbelievable and almost surreal to think about how it felt like to have them.
+ it still is scary to imagine failure and an empty hand out of all these at the end of the day, but knowing i have a hand to hold on the other, assures me that it does not mean the end of the road.
+ i am a little confused by the above point after reading it over twice, but am not going to try to rephrase it.
+ it is such joy using my hands to draw, make, cook, build, or simply do something, anything. i think i can easily become a construction worker, window cleaner, carpenter, cook and too many to mention, and feel happy until i retire. (though i am not exceptionally good at any of these, but i guess i do fairly okay in most.)

stuck

2009-08-04T08:15:00.004+01:00

and still.

almost a full swing back to autumn hanging by one each heavier as it gets but remembering the lightness on top without a grip looser the two reds smudged yellow across leaning against or on seeming alike and even mistaken for one at times but distinctively two and always whole.

it doesnt get easier because it doesnt happen that way, it gets on and there.

ball and dumbbell

2009-07-25T13:31:00.002+01:00

i keep on tramping around the hall, keep on kicking onto or tripping over these two things. and each time one of them chimes, my mind keeps on picturing her galloping from some corners of the flat, possessively and frenziedly. endearingly. then, my heart races and sinks in three split seconds, upon consciousness.

do you remember the time

2009-06-28T20:11:00.007+01:00

i used to watch him all the time on mtv top 20,

and that was when we were too young and not supposed to be sleeping late.

he was strikingly different, and anyone could tell by the stories he told.

the ensembles, his dramatics and their magnetism.

every one move he crafted to steal us away and into his dimension,

to have all breaths held against all laws of respiration.

he was not just a pair of white socks and a chorus of high pitch.

he was my hero too.

until we started to move on with age and alternatives,

and eventually got distracted by the throes of his demons and toils.

it has been 4 days and i am still finding it hard to believe that michael jackson is gone.

she

2009-06-17T19:06:00.002+01:00

she leaves you with too many questions,
daily, differently, surprisingly.
she learns something to forget it the next day,
just so you can teach her, over and over again.
but before you get tired of it,
she marks the next quest.