Friday, July 29, 2005

covet covet

Things I wish I have now:

(1) A technogadget that allows me to bring my work with me wherever I go. Seriously need one.

(2) A digital camera so that I can take pictures of work play and art wherever I go, and post it online for everyone of you to see.

There's more of course, but right now these are the two that cross my mind.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

art history joke

"Recently a guy in Paris nearly got away with stealing several paintings from the Louvre. But, after taking them off the walls and eluding the guards, he was captured only two blocks away when his van ran out of gas. When asked how he could mastermind such a theft and then make such a blunder, he replied: 'I had no Monet to buy Degas to make the Van Gogh.'"

Sunday, July 24, 2005

This blog is
like my transitory Mecca
On my way to
worlds upon words

Repository of
attempts at literary genius
Here I find rest
my soul

Wake me up through
breathing these whispers
inhaling life
words that are,

secrets of my alter ego
music itself almost
none of mine, because
-they simply are as they come

I love writing such
more than absinthe intoxication
more than psychedelic lights
and electronica

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

... I
- have nothing
to
say.

nothing



I wanted to write next a song about truimph.

But, my words disappeared. With a silent squeak, they vanished before they were formed. Miscarried, all of them, and those that would follow. Like my child that never was, they couldn't materialise.



-I do care, you are important. And I do love you like no other, you who are the human that makes me happy.



I do care, I am sorry, I don't want to hurt you anymore. My heart hurts for all the de-value I place upon you, for all the times you felt lonely, for all the abandonment you feel.

They are all not real, but yet cut like a knife. Our hearts are bleeding. All the blood. All the blood. All amongst the mangled arteries.

I have to walk out of this once and for all and emerge anew. I say this in jest for I know my own capabilities.



When I recover.

Monday, July 18, 2005

this one's for mine and the mass appeal


Come on, I know you enjoy seeing silly photographs too, it is not just lit that is hip anymore. Here's Calvin and me. Aren't we goofy?

Sunday, July 17, 2005

a blog I read tonight

I recently looked at PostSecret.blogspot.com.

And I cried reading it.

Why so

I solved the mystery.

I always wondered why I felt differently about C than I did about many others who once existed.

C is all the right things, and he is evolving into someone better every moment. I am convinced in my mind that he is a good boy and I want this one for sure. God said to me , 'Do you respect my decision?' and I said yes of course, and opened my eyes, to see C asleep next to me in my bed. I felt all the right things in 1 Corinthians about love, that I truly love him not because of any pre-conditions per se, but because he is who he is, and all else is not very important anymore.

In my trembling heart, there was but stillness. This is unfamiliar to me when I am in love. For sure, I am in love with this boy. Mad about him. I am just not as delirious as I thought I ought to be.

Now I know why.

I am happily in love. Not unhappily in love. Not in want, nor in neglect, nor in unsatisfied lust and longing for a soulmate.

All that sadness I carried with me, propelled me to become mad with desire, and drove me to to write as a gift-wrapped release of my unspoken thoughts.

I am happy. At last, I found it. Now, I can start my life anew, and write about this love I have had for a year. Something that I may dare to believe, will last till one of us leaves this earth for heaven to meet with Father God.

Everything that is falling short, madness and love unrequited, is H is sadness is not love. It was a fake, and not my loss. And this lack of delirium, is something I will have to get used to, because suddenly, I no longer want to be mad.

untitled

Her presence is his guilt
he tries to cover her footsteps
but failed right there too
many times to hide it

I laugh at his folly
because I already guessed so
and my snooping provoked his truth
at my expense and against
his will to expose it

the love was gone long before
it was just me
she had already taken him up
into her pleasure and fondled with lust

Sunday, July 10, 2005

this one's for the girls...












One of those things found on Blogthings: "The Keys to Your Heart"



You are attracted to obedience and warmth. Pretty true, who isn't?

In love, you feel the most alive when everything is uncertain, one moment heaven... the next moment hell. I used to be treated that way, and dried up from neglect as a result

You'd like to your lover to think you are loyal and faithful... that you'll never change. Does that mean I'm actually not? Otherwise they'd put this differently...

You would be forced to break up with someone who was insecure and in constant need of reassurance. I guess yes.

Your ideal relationship is open. Both of you can talk about everything... no secrets. This is definitely true.

Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. I'm not that good, but I hope.

You think of marriage as something that will confine you. You are afraid of marriage. What do you think?

In this moment, you think of love as something you don't need. You just feel like flirting around and playing right now. NO WAY.


Thursday, July 7, 2005

I'm write again

"I can't walk away. I will come back here again and again just to hear myself breathing through the writing, and trying to relieve the pain from the shards of glass that I find my heart being covered in."

Confessed by an addicted writer.
Aren't we all.

this was meant to be private, i said.

When I started compiling and publishing my writing on this blog, I dedicated it to a man I loved, and it was only for him and not for anyone else to know.

The poems I wrote then, were those we romantics used to write on paper. He was my muse, we were my theme, and my hurt and love were the driving forces. I edited, cancelled lines I didn't like, typed them out and sometimes, printed them. They were my best poems and I doubt I can write like that ever again. I shuddered with each phrase I pieced together on paper. I cried when I wrote and read them.

Eventually I wrote them here, and I gave avalon's worlds upon words to him.

Today, when I write my free-verse poetry in here, it is like mass-production, each piece a product rather than a masterpiece. Writing has become less sacred, just as I no longer possess that love for my muse. I have bastardised my writing, with crudity and Dada-like abstraction. Everything has flattened.

Just like many things. Today my world is a pack of dramatic silences and forceful actions, with lies and betrayal interweaved. Back when this was private, I had to write to tell him what was needed to be read not heard. There were lies, secrets, infidelity of mind and presence, loss of faith, hope and love, and ultimately loss of words to say . Today, the same things are surfacing but of a different breed - so I write publicly to make an art of it.

'Will writing ever take away my sadness?' No, and sometimes it won't even help. It becomes a mediocre sense of empty release, like blanks that make no sound when fired. Yet as life goes on and I am now 26 instead of 16, I find it harder and harder to cope with as I grow older. Sadness is already an almost consistent visitor.

Somehow I find the strength to forgive and accept the will of God in everything - that comes from strength endued by Him, as I am completely hopeless and weak. In the eye of my storm of anger, I suddenly have the urge to forgive all of them. Once again, like a blank with no sound when fired, my anger and hurt dissipate.

Other than that, I have no idea how else I should deal with things. The loss is easier to bear now, and it will slowly be completely bearable. After a while, things will become regular. Another breed of normalcy and settling will occur. I will be happy. Not in the same way: that, I can never have because we have been abandoned. I will grow old and the same bag of signatory artefacts will come along with me.

The best part is, we chose this route ourselves. We both assumed we got abandoned when we were the ones to abandon - we'll never know the truth now will we? We chose to burn the bridge simply because, and for all the reasons we conjured to support that act of arson. All the fear went down with it, and in its place, I carry regret.

This chapter will never close, it will just be replaced by a happily-ever-after. Better that perhaps, than taking avalon apart and making her the possessor of a fairy tale that can only happen once.

Wednesday, July 6, 2005

secrets

Try to keep them and they spill.
Things meant to be secret will come out in the open
Remember always, that there are traces of evidence -


We keep secrets to hurt those we hate-love
and we keep secrets to hide that we're hurt
The greatest human problem sometimes is isolation

So, secrecy
To isolate and because I'm isolated
From you the one I nearly loved.

I have a fear that
we will carry these secrets to our grave
and rob ourselves of what truly was ours.

Sunday, July 3, 2005

This generation

Do people work harder now than ever? Everyone is always busy.

Often enough, I see people of this generation getting alienated from the rest of the world. Too busy with work, they say. They have a small select group of friends, which they are sometimes too busy to meet, or no true ones at all but for those they drink and party with.

They no longer have steady partners that they are committed to marrying, but those they seek for time-affordable companionship. If he is your boyfriend, he may be so because he is afraid of being lonely. If she is with you, it is because there are pockets of time in between work, and she needs some intimacy. Thankfully, she likes your company, and you do hers. Otherwise, work always, comes first. Without a doubt.

If I'm lonely and I have no man, I will bury myself in my work. It doesn't matter, I can focus on building up my career.

This is my success. My career. It defines my sense of achievement, recognition, and self-worth.

Because of this truth that permeates across the values of many of my contemporaries, the nagging result is that, setbacks at work often slight them even if they don't know it. They take it harder than ever, harder than my parents' 'live and let live' generation.

To our parents, work is a means of survival. Not about passion, or glory, or success. To them, as long as it puts food on the table and gives comfort to their family, it is good work enough.

To us, we would give our heart and soul into our success which somehow gets defined by our work. We bring work home, work late every other day, work on weekends and holidays, read trade journals and other know-how literature etc.

Because I have built up my knowledge in my professional empire, it becomes my largest storehouse of treasure. And if anything comes to threaten this rule and reign of mine, it makes me weaker. My heart gets somewhat splintered by failures and acts against me that are of no reason.

And, people who own these empires, intermittently they get depressed. Their confidence gets shaken sometimes, or their life comes full circle to no meaning. They feel, that they rather not bother to change the world, and decide to act like they can't and just heck it.

This empire can be destructive. In times like these, people get jaded with life. Like a loose cog lost during the spin. And so, isolation, alienation and loneliness, they creep in.

That's why, time-affordable intimacy is so happening, so now. I like your company, so I invite you to my place. It's just coffee. Anything else we'll just have to take it from there. I like you but I can't commit, I'm not sure. I like your companionship, let's do a little travelling aka sexy getaway together, and then I'll see you again when we are both free. If we get together, it isn't really love as we knew it. It is just alienation trying to get its act together through the antidote of loneliness - intimacy.

It is all selfish and irresponsible. But it will have to do, until we get everything in balance, and realise that we may not have to place everything into our career. Because moth and rust will destroy; it is people that will remain, and will always be worth investing in.

In the meantime, all this alienation, will just have to be tolerated. It breaks me and my heart to see this in me and my peers. But we are all lonely and it sometimes becomes inevitable that we find addictions to soothe our loneliness. Almost everyone I know is addicted to something - smokes, drinks, sex, work, games, partying. All these things are no longer pleasurable indulgences in themselves, but items that balance all that negation within our lives. It has become a phenomenon of this generation.