Road trip Road trip...
looks like, i need to get more sleep now, incase i screw up in the cold.
here's the likely timetable, all planned and served on a silver platter.
26th of June (Sunday)
- 2000hrs 1st Group to Leave Wollongong for Melbourne (Only applicable to those moving off from Wollongong.
27th of June (Monday)
- 0200hrs Reach Albury for Rest and Refuel
- 0530hrs Reach Werribee to Rest and Refuel and have breakfast and await for 2nd Group to arrive (Werribee, about 27 km south-west of Melbourne, is midway on the Princes Highway to Geelong. It is situated on the Werribee River, which has its headwaters north of Ballan.)
- 0630hrs Arrival of 2nd Group and reorganize
- 0700hrs Leave for the Great Ocean Road
- 0800hrs Stop by at Torquay to shop and look for information and maps from the Info center
- 1000hrs Arrive at Otway National Park, explore the place till 1300hrs (have lunch there)
- 1300hrs Leave for Port Campbell, explore the place till sunset at around 1730hrs
- 1800hrs Leave for Warrnambool
- 1900hrs Arrive at Warrnambool, Rest and Refuel and have dinner there, then leave for Dunkeld
- 2030hrs Arrive at Dunkeld, search for a campsite in the Grampians
28th of June (Tuesday)
- 0630hrs Rise and Shine, Pack up camp and have breakfast. Spend the rest of the day till 1730hrs (maybe earlier) exploring the Grampians. Get information from Hallgap’s info center about the Grampians’ attractions.
- 1730hrs Have dinner and head towards Adelaide and HOPE to find a cheap motel along the way to rest for the night. Be prepare to camp if no motel is found.
29th of June (Wednesday)
- 0630hrs Rise up, have breakfast and prepare to head into Adelaide City, but if motel is close to Adelaide City, we will rise at 0800hrs and spend the rest of the day till 1730hrs (maybe earlier) checking out the city.
- 1730hrs Have dinner and leave for Flinders Ranges
- 2200hrs Arrive at Flinders Ranges (Wilpena), search for a campsite.
30th of June (Thursday)
- 0630hrs Rise and Shine, Pack up camp and have breakfast. Spend the rest of the day till 1730hrs (maybe earlier) exploring the Flinders Ranges. Get information from Wilpena info center about the Flinders Ranges’ attractions.
- 1730hrs Have dinner and leave for Broken Hill and HOPE to find a cheap motel in there else head straight to Kinchega National Park and look for a camp ground.
1st of July (Friday)
- 0630hrs Rise and Shine, Pack up camp if needed, have breakfast and head for Mungo National Park
- 1000hrs Arrive at Mungo National Park and spend the rest of the day till 1200hrs exploring the National Park.
- 1200hrs Have Lunch and reorganize as 1st group departs for Wollongong and 2nd group departs for Melbourne.
1st Group should arrive Wollongong by 2230hrs 1st July
2nd Group should arrive Melbourne by 1900hrs 1st July
As it is...this is a likely plan.
My friend ends this plan with this little note, (his the one who planned it),
A plan is just a plan, we normally try to stick to it, but in most situation we can’t due to factors like being overly distraction by everything that we see along the way, waking up late in the morning and screwing the whole day’s timing up, getting lost and finding our way around, taking a long time to eat, breaking down of vehicles, injuries, meteor impact, Tsunami, attacked by kangaroos and koalas, alien invasion and many many many other variables that is beyond our control. From my experience in the pass road trips that I have done, the worst thing that can happen will happen, so be prepared. You may want to start off with writing your will.
so here's my legacy for posterity...if i dont return...its probably the cute koalas turned Fugly...or aliens have deemed me a social hazard and taken me back for experiments, or...i decided life's a bitch and have run off to join the circus...
Geesh.
such optimism.
I'ii enjoy it, i know...Man...How long havent i done anything exciting?
*rubs grubby paws together*
Showing posts with label My Literary Works. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Literary Works. Show all posts
18 June 2005
23 April 2005
closing my eyes and stepping back for now.
Realized i'm OCD. yesh, just like you piggy.
-_- OCD....f***ed up OCD.
in reality,
i cant let go, rather, i must know what exactly is the problem and why that problem exists?
is it my fault?
did i do something wrong?
what did i do?
and the list goes on.
but the truth is.
its not all about me.
in the cruelest sense, now that everything's vapourized and left once again,
after so long a time of torment and waiting,
when everything should be perfect,
you would have to take it all away again.
its not what i have not done,
but what i can never help.
and that is you.
your the flaw in this equation.
but i'm not here to point fingers,
cause as you know me,
i'm just plain old me.
never thinking better then i am,
never standing up for what i should be worth.
but, thats going to change.
maybe an open-relationship for now would be best.
just because we can,
and because you dont want to return.
you sae D likes me,
and in my heart i hope so too,
then maybe i would not be so hung over you.
but then,
its just me.
plain old me.
*with a tear pressed into the side of my face,
a glimpse of the inner world that remains torned and shattered,
a new born smile awakens to the brillance of love,
that has been so long hidden that in my blindness,
i fail to recognize its presence *
Realized i'm OCD. yesh, just like you piggy.
-_- OCD....f***ed up OCD.
in reality,
i cant let go, rather, i must know what exactly is the problem and why that problem exists?
is it my fault?
did i do something wrong?
what did i do?
and the list goes on.
but the truth is.
its not all about me.
in the cruelest sense, now that everything's vapourized and left once again,
after so long a time of torment and waiting,
when everything should be perfect,
you would have to take it all away again.
its not what i have not done,
but what i can never help.
and that is you.
your the flaw in this equation.
but i'm not here to point fingers,
cause as you know me,
i'm just plain old me.
never thinking better then i am,
never standing up for what i should be worth.
but, thats going to change.
maybe an open-relationship for now would be best.
just because we can,
and because you dont want to return.
you sae D likes me,
and in my heart i hope so too,
then maybe i would not be so hung over you.
but then,
its just me.
plain old me.
*with a tear pressed into the side of my face,
a glimpse of the inner world that remains torned and shattered,
a new born smile awakens to the brillance of love,
that has been so long hidden that in my blindness,
i fail to recognize its presence *
14 March 2005
i do not like the unknown, but for now, it stirs my appetite.
wondering why it could not be easier just when we try so hard to make it simpler.
you said to take it slowly as love has basically evaporated,
returning momentarily when i do things right.
but here i am,
me.
i havent changed nor have become different,
but why is it i hurt inside,
like the gnawing of something insatiable,
that would not give up until it tears my very soul apart?
been reading the bible and attending sing-a-long sessions.
its uplifting.
want to be more actively involved in everything else,
and it has helped me lessen alot of problems.
things that i see as important,
things that i care alot about.
i'm no longer that little fat person,
too afraid of myself and others' opinions,
happy on the outside but crying on the inside.
i wish not to always be all smiles or all tears,
but to be me.
the happy me, happy for whatever reason,
just because you love me for me.
Waiting on our house rental,
for now, writing in to our housing agent to request for an extension.
so many things happening in my life,
and yet, often the minor things are important to me.
forgive me my friends,
because of me, i've let you all down.
but i do so love you.
wondering why it could not be easier just when we try so hard to make it simpler.
you said to take it slowly as love has basically evaporated,
returning momentarily when i do things right.
but here i am,
me.
i havent changed nor have become different,
but why is it i hurt inside,
like the gnawing of something insatiable,
that would not give up until it tears my very soul apart?
been reading the bible and attending sing-a-long sessions.
its uplifting.
want to be more actively involved in everything else,
and it has helped me lessen alot of problems.
things that i see as important,
things that i care alot about.
i'm no longer that little fat person,
too afraid of myself and others' opinions,
happy on the outside but crying on the inside.
i wish not to always be all smiles or all tears,
but to be me.
the happy me, happy for whatever reason,
just because you love me for me.
Waiting on our house rental,
for now, writing in to our housing agent to request for an extension.
so many things happening in my life,
and yet, often the minor things are important to me.
forgive me my friends,
because of me, i've let you all down.
but i do so love you.
As time passes,
illusions cloud vision.
nothing but a fading shadow of a person,
for today,
the battle scars of yesteryears,
will be buried,
never to be resurrected,
even with the calling of that passion,
as time passes.
Nonsense that grew out of love,
fostering the birth of the unknown.
to travel side by side,
in holy matrimony,
entwined in more then love,
but eternal companionship.
for today,
i hid.
never to reveal the inner demons,
that gnaw and bite,
nonsense that grew out of love.
Fast asleep and growling,
like a bear in hibernation.
never wanting to be disturbed,
by yet another dispassioned soul,
who knows only to take and hurt,
to tempt and reduce,
where i remain nothing more then a weeping willow,
dipping in the wind,
jostling to return back to the land i came from.
the land of peace once again,
drifting off,
fast asleep and growling.
illusions cloud vision.
nothing but a fading shadow of a person,
for today,
the battle scars of yesteryears,
will be buried,
never to be resurrected,
even with the calling of that passion,
as time passes.
Nonsense that grew out of love,
fostering the birth of the unknown.
to travel side by side,
in holy matrimony,
entwined in more then love,
but eternal companionship.
for today,
i hid.
never to reveal the inner demons,
that gnaw and bite,
nonsense that grew out of love.
Fast asleep and growling,
like a bear in hibernation.
never wanting to be disturbed,
by yet another dispassioned soul,
who knows only to take and hurt,
to tempt and reduce,
where i remain nothing more then a weeping willow,
dipping in the wind,
jostling to return back to the land i came from.
the land of peace once again,
drifting off,
fast asleep and growling.
11 February 2005
As the flitting shadows prance in front of the undrawn curtains,
the loner sat unmoved behind patience.
The dark stilettos of motion teased her with seduction,
to coax her out of the silence that so shrouded her.
The curtains now rustled faintly as she gainly peered just for that moment,
then fell back down, never to open again.
All that was left were scars.
Scars of battle, scars of tears and scars of lies.
Hideous in all the failures, glorious in all the lessons.
Pride, lust and love, all tamed and laid out in one swoop for all to see and curse.
With this, the last act is to begin. Sit back and wait as the final curtain call signal draws near.
***
In a sparsely furnished apartment, Missy sits besides her dad's favorite arm chair, with a torn-up garment still held firmly in her hands. She was a woman around her mid twenties, slightly plump, yet voluptous in a nice way. Her lips were permanently pursed together, as if in a gesture of prideful defiance. In the background, a sorrowful tune of discord and lost love pours out from the whining Hi-fi next to the mantel, and Missy begins to murmur, at the same time, gently stroking the material still in her hand.
Missy: Now dear, don't you cry. Mama's going to buy you a mocking bird (raises her left hand and makes like she's wiping tears off an invisible person). And if that mocking bird doesn't sing, Mama's going to buy you a diamond ring. (sits with a gazed look, staring off into oblivion). There, there. Aren't you pretty now my little bride?
(A voice echoes across the bare room).
No response.
(Footsteps become audible as if an empty box was being drummed over and over again, louder and louder with strength)
(Chloe enters from the left stage: She was a poised woman with a worn-out expression, presumably around her late fifties, hardened with the coming of age and with the extravagence of life that has taken a toil on her simple life)
Chloe: What? hello? Missy?
...................................................... To be Continued ;>
the loner sat unmoved behind patience.
The dark stilettos of motion teased her with seduction,
to coax her out of the silence that so shrouded her.
The curtains now rustled faintly as she gainly peered just for that moment,
then fell back down, never to open again.
All that was left were scars.
Scars of battle, scars of tears and scars of lies.
Hideous in all the failures, glorious in all the lessons.
Pride, lust and love, all tamed and laid out in one swoop for all to see and curse.
With this, the last act is to begin. Sit back and wait as the final curtain call signal draws near.
***
In a sparsely furnished apartment, Missy sits besides her dad's favorite arm chair, with a torn-up garment still held firmly in her hands. She was a woman around her mid twenties, slightly plump, yet voluptous in a nice way. Her lips were permanently pursed together, as if in a gesture of prideful defiance. In the background, a sorrowful tune of discord and lost love pours out from the whining Hi-fi next to the mantel, and Missy begins to murmur, at the same time, gently stroking the material still in her hand.
Missy: Now dear, don't you cry. Mama's going to buy you a mocking bird (raises her left hand and makes like she's wiping tears off an invisible person). And if that mocking bird doesn't sing, Mama's going to buy you a diamond ring. (sits with a gazed look, staring off into oblivion). There, there. Aren't you pretty now my little bride?
(A voice echoes across the bare room).
No response.
(Footsteps become audible as if an empty box was being drummed over and over again, louder and louder with strength)
(Chloe enters from the left stage: She was a poised woman with a worn-out expression, presumably around her late fifties, hardened with the coming of age and with the extravagence of life that has taken a toil on her simple life)
Chloe: What? hello? Missy?
...................................................... To be Continued ;>
It's time to calm down and look at the damages caused.
Maybe it's that simple.
Just decide what i want and then stick with it.
Trust, trust, trust.
I need a tissue for my issues. seriously.
Scared to put myself in that position again.
Dont want to go back to Melb.
Sigh. Finding it harder to breathe or function wholly as a person.
Hve you found the one you love yet?
Maybe only love can help.
No regrets, no lies, just solely love.
With this, i'm gambling away my sanity.
Maybe it's that simple.
Just decide what i want and then stick with it.
Trust, trust, trust.
I need a tissue for my issues. seriously.
Scared to put myself in that position again.
Dont want to go back to Melb.
Sigh. Finding it harder to breathe or function wholly as a person.
Hve you found the one you love yet?
Maybe only love can help.
No regrets, no lies, just solely love.
With this, i'm gambling away my sanity.
1 February 2005
why do people only appreciate things when they've long passed.
regretting only when its lost to them.
when the grains of love trickle through their fingers,
esp when they cant grasp what they used to call home to.
was reading an article written by janice tan (SPH),
it seem all so true why we only learn when we fall down,
when it all comes back and smack us squarely in the face.
the right person at the wrong time would eventually result in nothing but heartache.
both for the one who loves, and for the one who forgets.
once you realize that something true and good is lost,
all the memories and emotions would come flooding back.
what you've lost isnt simply something you can simply put a price tag on it,
instead, its something you cant qualify at all.
at this very moment,
all i can think of is simply how much i have wasted both in affection and love.
but not from you.
maybe its just me, for i'm too emotional bout things,
yet, its because i care. and i want to care.
but that portion of my heart is slowly dying.
and i've put down my stand for the last time.
why do i give you the chance to hurt me over and over again?
if only i could be stronger,
and rip off your hideous fakeness.
one that you hide under to cover your lies and deceit.
why is it that i have to hurt so much,
and all you can think of is how trival and petty i am,
to make something as simple,
as you falling for someone else,
into a mountain.
simply because,
i hurt.
i cry.
i die.
you said i've become hardened,
and maybe i have.
decadence and being free, wasnt that what you said i could be?
"to not hold on to you", those were the very words out of your mouth.
stop pulling me forward and back, backwards and fro.
i'm not that stupid little cupid still in love with you.
dont be so nice to me, cause i'm afraid i might fall again.
deeper this time round in all my foolishness.
dont tell me reasons,
cause i dont wish to hear your honey coated words.
all i want now is my friends and a peace of mind.
stop now.
stop.
________________________________________________________________
"why is it you left me for dead not too long ago,
and now your back,
suavily swooping in to claim your prize,
as and when you like?
does this mean not as much as it should to you?"
regretting only when its lost to them.
when the grains of love trickle through their fingers,
esp when they cant grasp what they used to call home to.
was reading an article written by janice tan (SPH),
it seem all so true why we only learn when we fall down,
when it all comes back and smack us squarely in the face.
the right person at the wrong time would eventually result in nothing but heartache.
both for the one who loves, and for the one who forgets.
once you realize that something true and good is lost,
all the memories and emotions would come flooding back.
what you've lost isnt simply something you can simply put a price tag on it,
instead, its something you cant qualify at all.
at this very moment,
all i can think of is simply how much i have wasted both in affection and love.
but not from you.
maybe its just me, for i'm too emotional bout things,
yet, its because i care. and i want to care.
but that portion of my heart is slowly dying.
and i've put down my stand for the last time.
why do i give you the chance to hurt me over and over again?
if only i could be stronger,
and rip off your hideous fakeness.
one that you hide under to cover your lies and deceit.
why is it that i have to hurt so much,
and all you can think of is how trival and petty i am,
to make something as simple,
as you falling for someone else,
into a mountain.
simply because,
i hurt.
i cry.
i die.
you said i've become hardened,
and maybe i have.
decadence and being free, wasnt that what you said i could be?
"to not hold on to you", those were the very words out of your mouth.
stop pulling me forward and back, backwards and fro.
i'm not that stupid little cupid still in love with you.
dont be so nice to me, cause i'm afraid i might fall again.
deeper this time round in all my foolishness.
dont tell me reasons,
cause i dont wish to hear your honey coated words.
all i want now is my friends and a peace of mind.
stop now.
stop.
________________________________________________________________
"why is it you left me for dead not too long ago,
and now your back,
suavily swooping in to claim your prize,
as and when you like?
does this mean not as much as it should to you?"
10 January 2005
"stay by my side", i whispered.
"i'm afraid".
A solid hand clasped my arm and jerked me violently back.
Hair spilled around my shoulders, face bruised and swollened from acid tears,
all that's left of me is the vainty of my existence, the scalding breath of life that burns my lips.
i cannot speak no more for words merely become transparent and unformed.
The majestic rose bades my presence and for me to come hither.
by its side i quiver with uncertainty as i've betrayed its very kind.
I bent and picked it up, where it laid dead in its prime.
A rose plucked was no longer of value to anyone.
The shadow that had led me this far, stepped out into the light.
A loved one. The man i love.
I gathered strength in my will to exert and i coiled my passion around him,
capturing the last few drops of tears that formed before they left his lids.
With each tear that befell on my body, the scars gradually faded.
The weight seem to lift of my very being, and i could breath again.
___________________________________________________________________
with every breathe i take, i gain strength in my self. Thank you, for now i must fly.
"i'm afraid".
A solid hand clasped my arm and jerked me violently back.
Hair spilled around my shoulders, face bruised and swollened from acid tears,
all that's left of me is the vainty of my existence, the scalding breath of life that burns my lips.
i cannot speak no more for words merely become transparent and unformed.
The majestic rose bades my presence and for me to come hither.
by its side i quiver with uncertainty as i've betrayed its very kind.
I bent and picked it up, where it laid dead in its prime.
A rose plucked was no longer of value to anyone.
The shadow that had led me this far, stepped out into the light.
A loved one. The man i love.
I gathered strength in my will to exert and i coiled my passion around him,
capturing the last few drops of tears that formed before they left his lids.
With each tear that befell on my body, the scars gradually faded.
The weight seem to lift of my very being, and i could breath again.
___________________________________________________________________
with every breathe i take, i gain strength in my self. Thank you, for now i must fly.
"Walking in the breeze, with the gradual warm sunlight, i suddenly felt tender.
The sky's softness, the earth's caresses, seem just like you holding onto me.
Later i realized that you've changed, loneliness lies ahead.
If i'm cold, how am i going to get through all these on my own?
The sky, breeze and sun that surrounds are no longer in your eyes.
Your eyes only hide what i never knew.
Never mind, the world that you possess, I'ii let you have it back.
Letting go, is my form of tenderness.
Do not understand, want, ask, why my heart,
which only wants to get closer to you,
stands alone in the wake of dawn.
Do not want, understand, ask, why my heart,
would let the essence of love,
lay buried, lost in the depths of solitude,
then to give the very best of me, to you.
Do not remember when, why without notice and unclear of what happened then,
i returned to the street we frequent,
with no tears nor smiles because this was just a dream.
No prediction of the future, or any given reason,
I recalled what you said before,
if i wanted, you would not hold me back.
I give you freedom.
All the freedom i can offer with my heart".
~wen rou ("wo gei ni zhi you" ballad/rock version) - wu yue tian (5 moon-sky).
[translated in english]
"ask not what others can offer but what you can give" - for me, I've given all.
The sky's softness, the earth's caresses, seem just like you holding onto me.
Later i realized that you've changed, loneliness lies ahead.
If i'm cold, how am i going to get through all these on my own?
The sky, breeze and sun that surrounds are no longer in your eyes.
Your eyes only hide what i never knew.
Never mind, the world that you possess, I'ii let you have it back.
Letting go, is my form of tenderness.
Do not understand, want, ask, why my heart,
which only wants to get closer to you,
stands alone in the wake of dawn.
Do not want, understand, ask, why my heart,
would let the essence of love,
lay buried, lost in the depths of solitude,
then to give the very best of me, to you.
Do not remember when, why without notice and unclear of what happened then,
i returned to the street we frequent,
with no tears nor smiles because this was just a dream.
No prediction of the future, or any given reason,
I recalled what you said before,
if i wanted, you would not hold me back.
I give you freedom.
All the freedom i can offer with my heart".
~wen rou ("wo gei ni zhi you" ballad/rock version) - wu yue tian (5 moon-sky).
[translated in english]
"ask not what others can offer but what you can give" - for me, I've given all.
9 January 2005
The beautiful sunset i watched while busily fiddling with my keyboard made me think back to a quiet and peaceful time spent with you.
The laughs and spills i share make me smile and wish you were here to share them with me.
The soups and food i relish eating make me feel like eating less, just to leave some for you.
yet.
___________________________________________________________________
a commitment is for a lifetime, irregardless of what happens in between.
if you love that person, tell him/her.
if you cherish that person, then dont waver.
infatuations whatsoever, if your not into your current just let him/her know.
if your not ready, think about it, whats your problem.
no one can help you if you dont want to help yourself.
best of all, if you cant help yourself, dont burden others unless your willing to open up.
if not, so long, farewell, see yar later!
The laughs and spills i share make me smile and wish you were here to share them with me.
The soups and food i relish eating make me feel like eating less, just to leave some for you.
yet.
___________________________________________________________________
a commitment is for a lifetime, irregardless of what happens in between.
if you love that person, tell him/her.
if you cherish that person, then dont waver.
infatuations whatsoever, if your not into your current just let him/her know.
if your not ready, think about it, whats your problem.
no one can help you if you dont want to help yourself.
best of all, if you cant help yourself, dont burden others unless your willing to open up.
if not, so long, farewell, see yar later!
26 December 2004
grand dad passed on the 11th of dec.
i got my new phoneline on the 13th of dec.
i got a job on the 14th of dec.
uncle passed on 23rd of dec.
we had a christmas celebration at my Alfred's place on the 24th of dec.
accompanied my granny on the 25th of dec.
my life came to a standstill on 27th of dec.
"sitting by the window, all day thinking of you.
watching the days go by. i started to cry.
they werent tears of sadness, it only meant i love you.
now i tell you...
i travel around the seven seas for you...with my love symphony,
to show you there's nothing i wldnt do...
people says i'm crazy, saeing i'm a nothing.
for letting my life pass me by...
i can speak for no one, in my heart i noe you love me best.
ttz y i alwaz tell you why..."
~ seven seas -- babyface.
i got my new phoneline on the 13th of dec.
i got a job on the 14th of dec.
uncle passed on 23rd of dec.
we had a christmas celebration at my Alfred's place on the 24th of dec.
accompanied my granny on the 25th of dec.
my life came to a standstill on 27th of dec.
"sitting by the window, all day thinking of you.
watching the days go by. i started to cry.
they werent tears of sadness, it only meant i love you.
now i tell you...
i travel around the seven seas for you...with my love symphony,
to show you there's nothing i wldnt do...
people says i'm crazy, saeing i'm a nothing.
for letting my life pass me by...
i can speak for no one, in my heart i noe you love me best.
ttz y i alwaz tell you why..."
~ seven seas -- babyface.
2 December 2004
Words i hold close to heart:
When the door of happiness closes, another opens, but often times we look so long at the closed door that we don't see the one which has been opened for us.
It's true that we don't know what we've got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives.
The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past, you can't go on well in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.
- "Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, it is the realization of how much you already have."
When the door of happiness closes, another opens, but often times we look so long at the closed door that we don't see the one which has been opened for us.
It's true that we don't know what we've got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives.
The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past, you can't go on well in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.
1 December 2004
Big fools we all are, when it comes to love.
all blinded by things that are so clear to see,
where even if love is painful,
we stick up for what we believe even when its wrong.
For it is as it always was,
maybe somethings are better unquestioned,
unheard and unanswered,
as when you actually get down to it,
and discover what there should be,
you realize it was never worth it,
neither your time, effort, or love.
the person in question only wants you there,
because you were simply there at that time, in that space.
Once things get better,
be it money, vanity, career and affairs,
your a washed out dishrag,
left to dry out in the sun, wasted.
Until realization hits you,
and determination no longer eludes,
maybe things will finally get better.
Freedom can be sought for by both sides,
he can pursue what he wants,
and you can stop feeling empty.
Love which was there might finally be dealt with,
and no longer put aside with, i'm sorry, i dont want to think...
It's not you, its just me.
all blinded by things that are so clear to see,
where even if love is painful,
we stick up for what we believe even when its wrong.
For it is as it always was,
maybe somethings are better unquestioned,
unheard and unanswered,
as when you actually get down to it,
and discover what there should be,
you realize it was never worth it,
neither your time, effort, or love.
the person in question only wants you there,
because you were simply there at that time, in that space.
Once things get better,
be it money, vanity, career and affairs,
your a washed out dishrag,
left to dry out in the sun, wasted.
Until realization hits you,
and determination no longer eludes,
maybe things will finally get better.
Freedom can be sought for by both sides,
he can pursue what he wants,
and you can stop feeling empty.
Love which was there might finally be dealt with,
and no longer put aside with, i'm sorry, i dont want to think...
It's not you, its just me.
26 September 2004
5 June 2004
All I need is another close-up. Genuine reaction. Most people these days are all about the acting. Lost are the days of irreversible stories that do not change overtime, or pondered after-thoughts of the what-ifs and can-bes. This fakeness annoys me. Sitting here in the Laundromat, as the clothes dance in a twirl, the humdrum from the machine lulled my consciousness. I thought of nothing in particular as my mind slowly drifted from thought to thought, drawing the occasional blanks that gave me more relief then sanity itself provides. The purrs made by a cat, stroked by his loving mistress. Lies that do not deceive. The footprints licked into the shallow sand on a hot summer night, two a foot apart. Things I have done and undone over the years. The flickering of events cluttered in the ancient depths of my mind, repetitive in motion like that of a nagging wife who refuses to let her enstrangled husband off the hook.
27 May 2004
The Sandman:
All passed quickly. Autumn had finally sunk into its great descent, where leaves from treetops lay plastered on the damp ground. The sudden downpour had taken us all by surprise, where its spillage remained in the depths of my handbag. I could not go too far for fear that life itself might be unable to catch up. This cat-and-mouse routine of an endless chase, never will come to a standstill. The road seem utterly hard to walk along with its raised gravel and random holes. As I stood in the middle of nowhere with my bag propped up on a car’s rear, an idea struck me. The kind of thought you would simply want to jot down on paper and keep it safe and out of sight. It was times like these that made you worry about the larger picture. The big question. Apparently, my shoes had been worn out from my tiresome yet, endless journey. Maybe the question might not be that hard to ask. If only it could roll off my lips as easily as I typed. Every idea, jotted down straight from the inner depths of my soul remains untainted and raw. A kind of freshness that few would want to tackle for fear of the many repercussions it might have. But seriously, who gives a fuck really. If you look around you, people are caught up with themselves, tripping over the little trivial issues that endear them to you. Even you yourself, is far from perfect. You that is in reference to me. Sometimes, all you desire and yearn for is silence. Silence that can be shared with people who would sit beside you and spend time, afterwhich feel that they have maintained the best conversation throughout that whole period. Others, who would go on and on about the life and observations about them, you engaging in your own silent way, letting them know your always physically and mentally prepared to let them in if ever they break down. Yet, these soul mates are hard to find, and by searching relentlessly, some day it would be possible to realize that they aren’t that far away, and they could be friends right beside you. I know that, cause I have found my group of friends, who might not realize it, but I do appreciate their being there, regardless of whether we speak or whether there remains plausible silence.
On another note, in a nightmarish world of uncertainties, there are very few who understand you, who even bother to open up to you. People whom you might at times withdraw from, clam up against not from anything but simple fear of allowing them deep within you. Letting them unravel too much. The Sandman that sneaks to and fro the likeness of the living and the “breathing dead” see way too much, and becomes immune to the sickness of man’s frivolity and fickleness. He introduces nightmares to break even the hardest of people, to send them out into their world, searching for a cure, which often takes the shape of a comforting friend. He also creates illusions, happy dreams, sad dreams, harmless ones in texture just to allow you breathing space and an emptiness which you can draw from within yourself, strength and the courage to face another day. We have all been there, down that stretch of nightmares and happy dreams, surfacing occasionally, coming clean with our friends with philosophical reasons for the existence of such dreams. But deep down we know, when we sleep, we dream and feed on it, living an existential part of our life through things that might seem ridiculous in real life situations, and only possible through the active use of our imaginations. Bringing out the worse and best of both the unimaginative and dreamers alike.
All passed quickly. Autumn had finally sunk into its great descent, where leaves from treetops lay plastered on the damp ground. The sudden downpour had taken us all by surprise, where its spillage remained in the depths of my handbag. I could not go too far for fear that life itself might be unable to catch up. This cat-and-mouse routine of an endless chase, never will come to a standstill. The road seem utterly hard to walk along with its raised gravel and random holes. As I stood in the middle of nowhere with my bag propped up on a car’s rear, an idea struck me. The kind of thought you would simply want to jot down on paper and keep it safe and out of sight. It was times like these that made you worry about the larger picture. The big question. Apparently, my shoes had been worn out from my tiresome yet, endless journey. Maybe the question might not be that hard to ask. If only it could roll off my lips as easily as I typed. Every idea, jotted down straight from the inner depths of my soul remains untainted and raw. A kind of freshness that few would want to tackle for fear of the many repercussions it might have. But seriously, who gives a fuck really. If you look around you, people are caught up with themselves, tripping over the little trivial issues that endear them to you. Even you yourself, is far from perfect. You that is in reference to me. Sometimes, all you desire and yearn for is silence. Silence that can be shared with people who would sit beside you and spend time, afterwhich feel that they have maintained the best conversation throughout that whole period. Others, who would go on and on about the life and observations about them, you engaging in your own silent way, letting them know your always physically and mentally prepared to let them in if ever they break down. Yet, these soul mates are hard to find, and by searching relentlessly, some day it would be possible to realize that they aren’t that far away, and they could be friends right beside you. I know that, cause I have found my group of friends, who might not realize it, but I do appreciate their being there, regardless of whether we speak or whether there remains plausible silence.
On another note, in a nightmarish world of uncertainties, there are very few who understand you, who even bother to open up to you. People whom you might at times withdraw from, clam up against not from anything but simple fear of allowing them deep within you. Letting them unravel too much. The Sandman that sneaks to and fro the likeness of the living and the “breathing dead” see way too much, and becomes immune to the sickness of man’s frivolity and fickleness. He introduces nightmares to break even the hardest of people, to send them out into their world, searching for a cure, which often takes the shape of a comforting friend. He also creates illusions, happy dreams, sad dreams, harmless ones in texture just to allow you breathing space and an emptiness which you can draw from within yourself, strength and the courage to face another day. We have all been there, down that stretch of nightmares and happy dreams, surfacing occasionally, coming clean with our friends with philosophical reasons for the existence of such dreams. But deep down we know, when we sleep, we dream and feed on it, living an existential part of our life through things that might seem ridiculous in real life situations, and only possible through the active use of our imaginations. Bringing out the worse and best of both the unimaginative and dreamers alike.
10 May 2004
WEll...wrote this piece last night to make do for today's presentation in 20 minutes flat before bed time. think it might be an interesting idea to explore if i were to write an acting play. or musical for that case. interesting...
Scenario: Late 1920s. Just after the wall street crash. Ellen had invested heavily against Sam’s advice. Had lost her life-savings but still leads a comfortable live with Sam in their double-storey town house.
Characters:
Ellen: A florist. Loves to dress in black. Pregnant. Fading beauty. From a working-class background. Is around her early thirties. Tends to over-react.
Sam: Stock-broker. In his late thirties. Slightly balding. Incline to zone out when his wife starts talking. From an upper-class background.
Script: Scene 1- Preparations for a dinner out.
Ellen: com’on, we’re gonna be late, eh. (ruffles her hair as she walks up to Sam) Tiz black-tie event and Imz wearin me ol’ black dress. Would ya throw on something decent !? (frowns as she stares down at her husband) Quit slouchin all over ze couch. Ya got ye eyes glued solid to ze telly. Itz not called an idiot box for nuthin ya know…. (curses under her breath) ye idiot…(spins around and hurries in the opposite direction towards the kitchen, the television blars the soap advertisement “ think the house and your man needs a scrub? Buy Ajad multi-cleaner – works like a charm”)
Ellen: (grumbling as she paces to and fro, seemingly counting the number of square tiles she needs in order to walk to the kitchen) you lousy louse. All ye eva do is sit there squared on ye pretty fat ass. (starts rhyming randomly) No “thank ya dar…”. No damn ugly flowas or smelly roast-beef dinas, well non, what dumb life have become. Freaking mother’s day, without going to no bay, maybe when mi get me pay. ( there is a single sunflower that has since started to die, its petals have began to fall and scatter on the counter)
Sam: (grunts and hollers across the room where Ellen is seated sulking at the kitchen table) It’s not a party, just a gathering with my mother and father. * pauses * Come on Elle. Don’t get so worked up. Think of the baby…
Ellen: (struts quickly back into the living room, seems to have ignored the topic of her health altogether) What what what! Tiz not juz any gathering yar know. We must dress er….what’s zat word? …. Ze tupid priest was lecturing mi on me looks… presena…presenatable! I’II juz wear me ol black dress, ye wear something fancy with a tie. Ze black-tie dinner ho-kay! (leans over the sofa and screams) Nobody cares whither I wear, nobody can bear to share... (voice trails off) Not yar….nono….not yar…(meanders away towards the staircase and dances upstairs to change).
Sam: But Elle… (turns and sees no one, shrugs and carries on watching television)
Scene 2: *An hour passes uneventful – Sam goes upstairs to look for Ellen *
Sam: ( Climbing the stairs) Ellen dear? We’re going to be late for your black-tie dinner. (Sees clothes strewn all over the top flights of the steps) My goodness. What are you doing Elle?
Ellen: (seating on the ledge of the bed, holding a book closely to her face- so close she could not possibly be reading it. The book is titled “Have you seen a doctor lately?”) Ain’t tiz a lovely day outside? Pretty pretty birds. Singing in a tree. Beautiful beautiful sun. Shiny as can be. (hums to herself as she rocks forward and backwards, tilting her head charmingly to the side as she glances as Sam) Yar want a dance? Practice dance?
Sam: (sigh) You have not dressed yet. Look Ellen, we’re going to be late if we don’t hurry. Remember?
Ellen: Go where? I’mz staying put down here. Sam, the priest was saying on Sunday how Peta was the rock upon which god build his church on. So am I. Juz lidat of a strong little rock. (glazed look in her eyes as she happily smiles at no one)
Sam: (Tries to help her off the ledge and remove the apron off her) Stop struggling. It’s bad for the child I swear Elle…
Ellen: (absentmindedly flings her arms out wildly as in a wild Spanish dance) A child. In a well. Like a bell. (spins around her worn-out husband who tries desperately to restrain her) Some fun. Some fun. Mi need to have sum fun.
Sam: (The phone has been ringing for the past few seconds, he tries to balance picking up the receiver in one hand, with his other arm hooked around Ellen’s waist) Hi? Mother? I’m really sorry but I think we have to cancel. She’s not well again. Yes. She’s not up for visitors yet. (Ellen has ceased to struggle and has flopped over like a lifeless doll, resting her whole weight on Sam’s arm) Hold on mother. She’s become quiet (sets her gently down onto the bed and retreats out of the room) Hello mother. I know. After the incident with the stock crash and the miscarriage… *pause * it’s been hard on her and this baby. (scratches his head as he leans onto the side of the door). *pause * Yes. *pause * And, me too. Sorry mother. Would love to see you too. Give father my regards would you? And… (voice fades away as he walks down the stairs)
Ellen: (opens one eye, then closes and opens the other eye. Alternates her eyes which carries on for five minutes) Dunch ya juz hate his snotty mom and dad? Alwiz looking down on poor old Elle… Poor Elle with her fits. Poor Elle who cant do anything. No real job, no warm cot, no tot. I gotta job! I stick flowas into their beds en pressins. Everyone loves dear old Elle. Even god loves Elle. I who’s rock ye chose. A second child. Think bout zat… (ponders) but why. Why did ye take my first away? All ye pretty chicks. My poor pretty chicks. Mommie’s having a hard day en on Mother’s day summore. No mother’s in ze house ‘cept for mi. No Sam’s mom. (pats her tummy) Ye be good in there. En I will love ye as I loved ya little sista. Alwiz. Ye Know Mommies don’t lie.
Scenario: Late 1920s. Just after the wall street crash. Ellen had invested heavily against Sam’s advice. Had lost her life-savings but still leads a comfortable live with Sam in their double-storey town house.
Characters:
Ellen: A florist. Loves to dress in black. Pregnant. Fading beauty. From a working-class background. Is around her early thirties. Tends to over-react.
Sam: Stock-broker. In his late thirties. Slightly balding. Incline to zone out when his wife starts talking. From an upper-class background.
Script: Scene 1- Preparations for a dinner out.
Ellen: com’on, we’re gonna be late, eh. (ruffles her hair as she walks up to Sam) Tiz black-tie event and Imz wearin me ol’ black dress. Would ya throw on something decent !? (frowns as she stares down at her husband) Quit slouchin all over ze couch. Ya got ye eyes glued solid to ze telly. Itz not called an idiot box for nuthin ya know…. (curses under her breath) ye idiot…(spins around and hurries in the opposite direction towards the kitchen, the television blars the soap advertisement “ think the house and your man needs a scrub? Buy Ajad multi-cleaner – works like a charm”)
Ellen: (grumbling as she paces to and fro, seemingly counting the number of square tiles she needs in order to walk to the kitchen) you lousy louse. All ye eva do is sit there squared on ye pretty fat ass. (starts rhyming randomly) No “thank ya dar…”. No damn ugly flowas or smelly roast-beef dinas, well non, what dumb life have become. Freaking mother’s day, without going to no bay, maybe when mi get me pay. ( there is a single sunflower that has since started to die, its petals have began to fall and scatter on the counter)
Sam: (grunts and hollers across the room where Ellen is seated sulking at the kitchen table) It’s not a party, just a gathering with my mother and father. * pauses * Come on Elle. Don’t get so worked up. Think of the baby…
Ellen: (struts quickly back into the living room, seems to have ignored the topic of her health altogether) What what what! Tiz not juz any gathering yar know. We must dress er….what’s zat word? …. Ze tupid priest was lecturing mi on me looks… presena…presenatable! I’II juz wear me ol black dress, ye wear something fancy with a tie. Ze black-tie dinner ho-kay! (leans over the sofa and screams) Nobody cares whither I wear, nobody can bear to share... (voice trails off) Not yar….nono….not yar…(meanders away towards the staircase and dances upstairs to change).
Sam: But Elle… (turns and sees no one, shrugs and carries on watching television)
Scene 2: *An hour passes uneventful – Sam goes upstairs to look for Ellen *
Sam: ( Climbing the stairs) Ellen dear? We’re going to be late for your black-tie dinner. (Sees clothes strewn all over the top flights of the steps) My goodness. What are you doing Elle?
Ellen: (seating on the ledge of the bed, holding a book closely to her face- so close she could not possibly be reading it. The book is titled “Have you seen a doctor lately?”) Ain’t tiz a lovely day outside? Pretty pretty birds. Singing in a tree. Beautiful beautiful sun. Shiny as can be. (hums to herself as she rocks forward and backwards, tilting her head charmingly to the side as she glances as Sam) Yar want a dance? Practice dance?
Sam: (sigh) You have not dressed yet. Look Ellen, we’re going to be late if we don’t hurry. Remember?
Ellen: Go where? I’mz staying put down here. Sam, the priest was saying on Sunday how Peta was the rock upon which god build his church on. So am I. Juz lidat of a strong little rock. (glazed look in her eyes as she happily smiles at no one)
Sam: (Tries to help her off the ledge and remove the apron off her) Stop struggling. It’s bad for the child I swear Elle…
Ellen: (absentmindedly flings her arms out wildly as in a wild Spanish dance) A child. In a well. Like a bell. (spins around her worn-out husband who tries desperately to restrain her) Some fun. Some fun. Mi need to have sum fun.
Sam: (The phone has been ringing for the past few seconds, he tries to balance picking up the receiver in one hand, with his other arm hooked around Ellen’s waist) Hi? Mother? I’m really sorry but I think we have to cancel. She’s not well again. Yes. She’s not up for visitors yet. (Ellen has ceased to struggle and has flopped over like a lifeless doll, resting her whole weight on Sam’s arm) Hold on mother. She’s become quiet (sets her gently down onto the bed and retreats out of the room) Hello mother. I know. After the incident with the stock crash and the miscarriage… *pause * it’s been hard on her and this baby. (scratches his head as he leans onto the side of the door). *pause * Yes. *pause * And, me too. Sorry mother. Would love to see you too. Give father my regards would you? And… (voice fades away as he walks down the stairs)
Ellen: (opens one eye, then closes and opens the other eye. Alternates her eyes which carries on for five minutes) Dunch ya juz hate his snotty mom and dad? Alwiz looking down on poor old Elle… Poor Elle with her fits. Poor Elle who cant do anything. No real job, no warm cot, no tot. I gotta job! I stick flowas into their beds en pressins. Everyone loves dear old Elle. Even god loves Elle. I who’s rock ye chose. A second child. Think bout zat… (ponders) but why. Why did ye take my first away? All ye pretty chicks. My poor pretty chicks. Mommie’s having a hard day en on Mother’s day summore. No mother’s in ze house ‘cept for mi. No Sam’s mom. (pats her tummy) Ye be good in there. En I will love ye as I loved ya little sista. Alwiz. Ye Know Mommies don’t lie.
23 April 2004
forgive me father, for i have sinned...
the crimes of passion, one does in the name of love. Routing on the topic of what i would possibly develop into a full-fledge creative piece...stuck deep.
The plot that would unroll seems too deviant in nature to comprehend, even in the well-meaning crimo books. how can a psycho killer, murder women base on PAGE BY PAGE descriptions from what a murder-she-wrote writer enscript for a living? sighsy...
but the interesting idea that the book does bring up would be that relationships, even those between complete strangers, might be the most intimate one ever held. was musing on a piece called, "strange bed-fellows" or something...
The intriguing part would be, how you would wake up on a daily routine, seeing the same person next to you from a different angle you never noticed. 1. Cuddles up to Toys, 2. Doesnt brush teeth...or so on and so forth. Being able to have a camera-like intensive imaging of someone who you know like the back of your hand, pin-pointing with microscopic precision what exactly it is that makes them tick....that would be TRUE art.
Then there would be the stifling bits, where you would find this form of intimacy of a killing kind, something like a diease that knaws at your very being, the depths of your soul that tells you not to even considering being with the person, that tells you that eventually it might all go up in hot smoke. HOGwash. Strange bedfellows....yet stranger habits....with a mysteriously weird e-motional reaction....now, who's the strange one?
Analogue one:
She came into the room through the day-washed curtains as she gazed lovingly at her L-over. He looked so peaceful all cuddled up to the bolster, serene with his wispy hair flopping over a slightly crooked nose caused by an ancient fight. As she looked, her eyebrows furrowed as she pressed her lips tightly together. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, she quietly reminded herself as she fanned her flustered face with a free hand. He might not be the greatest personality you could find, but she knew that he had something inside, deep inside that might allow her to access him from. A platform or so. But for now....
- Really.... flowery english with a twist of lemon for spice...
Analogue 2:
She sat up in the bed and looked around the room with disgust. His room was in a worse state then what she had left it in a few hours prior to this. She swore as she swung a scrawny leg over the edge of the bed and into goo. Half-eaten pie on a plate. She swore loudly as she shoved the sleeping figure next to her. He barely moved, lost to the dead. There was a long pause, and then soft draws of stifled sniffles.
- and yes....the usual. He was NOT who she thought he would be, OR in this case, become.
Right.... SOoooo strange bedfellows might be a good idea to start with, but at this pt in time with my darn take home test to complete....this is hell of a lot of thought to be delving into. now...if you would excuse me, i need to return to mine. ^-^ "PooH Bear".
ZzzzzzzZZZZzzzzzz.....ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZzzz.....
the crimes of passion, one does in the name of love. Routing on the topic of what i would possibly develop into a full-fledge creative piece...stuck deep.
The plot that would unroll seems too deviant in nature to comprehend, even in the well-meaning crimo books. how can a psycho killer, murder women base on PAGE BY PAGE descriptions from what a murder-she-wrote writer enscript for a living? sighsy...
but the interesting idea that the book does bring up would be that relationships, even those between complete strangers, might be the most intimate one ever held. was musing on a piece called, "strange bed-fellows" or something...
The intriguing part would be, how you would wake up on a daily routine, seeing the same person next to you from a different angle you never noticed. 1. Cuddles up to Toys, 2. Doesnt brush teeth...or so on and so forth. Being able to have a camera-like intensive imaging of someone who you know like the back of your hand, pin-pointing with microscopic precision what exactly it is that makes them tick....that would be TRUE art.
Then there would be the stifling bits, where you would find this form of intimacy of a killing kind, something like a diease that knaws at your very being, the depths of your soul that tells you not to even considering being with the person, that tells you that eventually it might all go up in hot smoke. HOGwash. Strange bedfellows....yet stranger habits....with a mysteriously weird e-motional reaction....now, who's the strange one?
Analogue one:
She came into the room through the day-washed curtains as she gazed lovingly at her L-over. He looked so peaceful all cuddled up to the bolster, serene with his wispy hair flopping over a slightly crooked nose caused by an ancient fight. As she looked, her eyebrows furrowed as she pressed her lips tightly together. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, she quietly reminded herself as she fanned her flustered face with a free hand. He might not be the greatest personality you could find, but she knew that he had something inside, deep inside that might allow her to access him from. A platform or so. But for now....
- Really.... flowery english with a twist of lemon for spice...
Analogue 2:
She sat up in the bed and looked around the room with disgust. His room was in a worse state then what she had left it in a few hours prior to this. She swore as she swung a scrawny leg over the edge of the bed and into goo. Half-eaten pie on a plate. She swore loudly as she shoved the sleeping figure next to her. He barely moved, lost to the dead. There was a long pause, and then soft draws of stifled sniffles.
- and yes....the usual. He was NOT who she thought he would be, OR in this case, become.
Right.... SOoooo strange bedfellows might be a good idea to start with, but at this pt in time with my darn take home test to complete....this is hell of a lot of thought to be delving into. now...if you would excuse me, i need to return to mine. ^-^ "PooH Bear".
ZzzzzzzZZZZzzzzzz.....ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZzzz.....
time dribbles past with frustrating disdane.
Wish there was something i could do instead of waiting here,
on the otherside of the line.
not knowing when or where it would take shape,
the passing furrows of my trouble.
he said, i would, and i could,
but now this words are mangled by buts' and whos'.
The direst of tests that lay before me,
misery cloaked in deceit.
Wish there was something i could do instead of waiting here,
on the otherside of the line.
not knowing when or where it would take shape,
the passing furrows of my trouble.
he said, i would, and i could,
but now this words are mangled by buts' and whos'.
The direst of tests that lay before me,
misery cloaked in deceit.
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