what did they say again?

something that goes along the line of- time flies.

one more month to the official end of half of 2009.
and those times still felt like it was just yesterday.

like: yuphuahholingteoh, hotel and spa, daycare and shopping centre, cafe and boutique, all in one. (reminded by nat)

so tell me, what exactly did you do with May? Here comes June hurriedly.

no return

little ones

I've come to compromising terms with the ants in the kitchen. As long as you get out of my sight, you're safe to carry your dead cockroach with you to somewhere else to devour other than my goods storage department and room. Oh and my toiletries basket. Yes, and the shoe rack.

They squeak an almost inaudible 'thank you'.

You're welcome.

and we ran across the street

We walk in the cold, chilly winter evening, to a place where this world is of another dimension.

We walk backwards, giggling with childish foolish excitement. As we do, we watch the town slowly lit up. Lights turning on as fathers come home, and tables laid with scrumptious food, the town is buzzing with life again. Every sight is as warm as the other, a glimpse of the living room, warm from the crackling fire. But who sees the old man on the worn out bench hungry and alone? Grief on his face was all that was shown.

We tripped over an object, fell, and land in front of him.

A smile, a frown, a twinkle. "Dear children, what have you got for me today?"

sea legs

we can't because it isn't right, but we know it is .
`
words, i think i've uttered many(or countless) wrong ones of them in my life time, without even meaning.
they can't be taken back.

hole

And the night time creeps in, with such calmness, yet carrying a slight note of caution. You see heads of black, brown and golden everywhere, bent low, or raised up displaying a perpetual frown. Worries cast over their young faces, the faces which hold all the candour of youth, but only for now. Nothing is fixed, nothing can be certained.

And then there were them, the category of punksters, wild with youthful lust, giggling with absolute gayness, uncontrollably and physically attached to one another.

A few seats away, seemingly calm on the surface, yet inside- battling with self, core, beliefs, mind. I looked, trying to read any slipped faint contortion of the face which could mean anything, anything at all.

I stared downwards again at the endless characters, little ants are all I see. Love and some verses is all I hear.
That was hours ago.
-
It's 2 a.m. now, what am I doing in this small confined space of a virtual diary? I should get back.

all the glimmer and the glitter

Sparseness of the land, once, the land before time.
Flying around, thoughts growing wings, dispersing their seeds, and inhabiting the land.
Succession, it is called.
What now, my friend? What now
`
V is very, very extraordinary.
`
We have sound effects in our brain for everything. Sounds that sound like what we'd like them to sound like. Sounds good. In our little hideaway.
`
e
c
o
n
s

[gulp]

pixie dust on your eyes

The stillness of the night.

It's cooler outside, much more cooler than these four walls. Sound of water gushing, and nothing more today.

Sometimes I see shadows rushing off and melting into darkness, probably to a meeting, a lover and her rendezvous. Sometimes I can hear phone conversations, emotions transferred on that thin wavelength, going out to another party at another location.

The coolness, breeziness, quietness that aren't always a normalcy on this spinning ball. I pause a little while more. I think there is something interesting behind this noiselessness, maybe it's the substance of ambiguity that makes it all the more interesting. Fear, curiosity, a streak of romanticism, apathy, gladness.

One day, I will traverse it, holding the element of surprise in one hand, another hand-

ouch

The question is: Who are you going to be in the long run? When life's not as alright as now, when life is really one supercalifragilisticexpialidocious(opposite of that) heck of a roller coaster ride.

"Stand for God, and He will stand for you."
"Be true to Him, and He will be true to you."
`
Naturally as the seasons of life pass, we can't cling on to everything we want. A lot, a lot of things just slipped away, sometimes as quiet as can be. There could be that person that was once quite close to you, and now you wonder "Where is he now? What is he doing?" There could be the long gone moment where you wish you had done something entirely different, and expect a more favourable outcome. There could be many things left behind,

don't leave faith behind.

I'm leaning on You, I'm looking towards You, I'm learning Your ways,
and I'm laying down everything that prevents me from doing so.

reminder: Let go and let Him.

build-ups

strange/not so strange/ quite fuzzy and warm/just random occurrence(s) over the weekend:

1. (again) on my way to class, I walked past this couple (based on assumption) who was bickering. I would have not noticed them but they were quite loud. The girl was bickering in a higher than usual pitch that makes the air waves around throbs attuned to that unbelievable amplitude and pitch in which her voice was giving out. Details of the squabble can't be recalled but all I remembered was the guy's painfully dejected tone that indicated his hurt, genuine or not.

(again) on my way to another class, I saw them sitting on a slab of cement, close to the point of making out.

2. Night lights are nice.

3. There shall be no more halfheartedness.

4. Coming and going of tides

5. you were right behind me stranger.

fried balls of seasoned chopped liver

Like This Together
Adrienne Rich

1
Wind rocks the car.
We sit parked by the river,
silence between our teeth.
Birds scatter across islands
of broken ice. Another time
I'd have said "Canada geese"
knowing you love them.
A year, ten years from now
I'll remember this-
this sitting like drugged birds
in a glass case-
not why, only that we
were here like this together.

3
We have, as they say,
certain things in common
I mean: a view
over slate to pigeons
huddled every morning; the way
water tastes from our tap,
which you marvel at, letting
it splash into the glass.
Because of you I notice
the taste of water,
a luxury I might
otherwise have missed.

it's gonna be.

And the saga continues.

in the face

What did you put on today? Yellow, purple, checkered, dots. Make up, smile, peppermint blouse. Is there a guide or a manual that gives an example of a predicament, and the solution to it? Step 1- eliminate all that stands in the way. Step 2-retreat to your own head. Or will it be like those Goosebumps book that we read back then, where one difference in number could be hugely consequential? If you decide to fight the monster, turn to page 3, if you decide to escape, turn to page4.

Mr. Chief Librarian, do you have a text book for life?
Are you living the text book life?
We all are, in a way or another.
`
It is not good to be talking to yourself, both the asking and the answering. It is not good to be answering people using the voice in your head, instead, open your mouth and do it verbally. It is not good to be.

`

We're not written in stones. No, not yet.

writing us

If we're programs, and God's writing our codes, He is one awesome programmer. (He already is, in fact.) How easy it would be if we were robots, and we're programmed to follow everything in sequence, in silence and when it comes to decision making, select that particular choice just because that is how we're written. And when it's time to quit, all we have to do is to key in those secret little alphanumerical characters- END (you can restart later).

Yes, it would be easy but,
What else?
`

letter for May

May,
By the time you read this, I've left. But, we'll meet again in 12 months time. Attached are all the events whether new or old to be passed down to you. I think you're in for some work. Send my greetings to June.

Yours,
April

play with fire, would you?

Because we're all just contradicting humans, what we utter are paradoxes. And most of the time we don't really know why is that so. We just don't know. I just don't know.
`
Economics. What shall I do with you?
`
She flashed a smile at that lone stranger at the corner. She looked flushed, beads of sweat were trickling down her cheekbone, but she was radiating with joy. Her self at that moment was an insouciant being, unaware about the impending disaster. How vile is reality, he thought, for there is nothing that his frail self can do, nothing but contributing cowardice. He was a looming tormented soul.