blast from the past

One never changes as drastically as in retrospect. 'Tis absurd to cling to the uni-directionality of time when loss and gain bear no relation to growth and experience. How foolish of me, looking forward to what I had once left behind.

By far the most tempting use to which a time machine might be put is the retrieval of pieces of oneself along the way. I should like to collect the one doggedly submersed in Blood, pathologically dependent on Hope, carelessly dispensing Love; the one who ached for Beauty fought against Despair dreamed of Tomorrow laughed with Truth. Imagine, all that shimmering goodness in the same room!

[01.02 Thu 26-May-2005]

wrongful conviction

I'd like a word with the part of me in charge of believing anything is possible and the world within reach. First, I demand an explanation - what recklessness to dream and let falter. Then, I shall beg for reconciliation - I've been lost without you.

[23.18 Sat 23-Apr-2005]

occupational hazards

Rapidly deteriorating standard of personal hygiene exemplified by ever-increasing thresholds for hand-washing and tablecloth-changing.

Being interrogated by well-meaning patrons, in carefully enunciated English, about my reasons for being here (read: the country) and my aspirations (read: after emancipating self from the people-smugglers who may or may not operate this establishment).

Acquiring a distinctinve bundle of mannerisms evolutionarily placed to feminizing boys, masculinizing girls, and suggesting that the life of its owner depends critically upon the next tip.

As a corollary to the above, becoming emotionally dependent on loose change that is, but ought not be, in the possession of perfect strangers.

Being accosted by extremely discouraging specimens of the opposite sex in a comprehensive selection of unromantic settings; and having to devise countermeasures at short notice. Some highlights:

• atop my (car's) bonnet while I'm checking street directions [maintain non-confrontational banter until he slides off - inevitable considering the presumed cause for his having landed there in the first place]
• 'call me babe **** *** *** (ostensibly phone #)' scribbled on a napkin left on the table [convince one of the boys that it was for him]
• at the end of a winding corridor beyond an unattended open door, half-naked (top half ~phew), several drinks past oblivion, wad of cash in hand asking me to take what he owed plus a stipulated exorbitant sum [do that, then bolt!]
• dimly-lit garden reeking of illicit combustible substances, Chinese-speaking (trying to anyway) Caucasian, offering samples of said substances [decline with regret]

[14.47 Sun 17-Apr-2005]

Please unsubscribe from this site if you've no idea what that was about.

sell-out... who's buying?

The wafts of 'reason' which have carried me thus far dissipate with each glimmer of a prospect of having a stab at being on the way to conventional success. When did a stone supplant my heart and pulp, my mind? Or did the subconscious pre-meditate it all? So crushingly un-extraordinary to be simultaneously aroused by hollow praise and unmoved by harrowing inhumanity. Yet another case of over-estimated magnanimity.

[22.52 Fri 15-Apr-2005]

the way we were

Watching her* stealthily across the room I wondered how often she'd do this, stare into by-gones and nostalgiate. It was a look I thought she'd ceased being capable of. More than that I hadn't expected the affirmation I was to derive therefrom. But what for? That ours was more than a futile journey punctuated with hardship heartache and love-begotten-hate? Then again, could I ever truly be so convinced?

[11.03 Wed 22-Sep-2004]

* mum

mutiny

dreamy elusive smile
weary sparkling eyes
inexplicably alluring stubble
understated beauty, grace, calm

The heart hung up on the head and skipped a beat. Shaken by betrayal, the head turned to lash out on the mouth, who'd already set off on a mission of its own. The eyes, refusing to be left out, mimed frantically (and utterly out of sync, of course). The neglected rest was salvaged (savaged?) by a rusty klutzy autopilot.

[10.47 Sat 18-Sep-2004]

The height of my confusion conveniently coincided with thesis-writing month. No prizes for guessing which won out.

Brunei Prince was everything, over and above what I needed to accomplish Project Denial. Yet nothing could stop what was to follow from being set in motion. Must tell him one day.

turning tables

Misery pulled her in, drew her out, whetted her
Insatiable appetite for indebtedness.
Never mind consent or reciprocity. She dreamed of
Drowning in distant sorrow unconscious.

Yearning ceases not.
Only lonely.
Unhinging with each conquest, defeat;
Relishing no less the luxury of any other life.

Out of depths you stumble, making her
Wince in equal parts surprise and shame -
Not certain whence she flees...

Bully of
Unsuspecting weaklings.
Shadow of a childish beast of
Indiscriminate lust.
Nefarious opportunist.
Eternity too
Short to break our
Silence.

[16.04 Tue 14-Sep-2004]

To Belle, when we finally caught up after ages. I was struck thrice: first her happiness, then my surprise thereof, finally remorse for being so surprised.

First letter of each line make up a little reminder-to-self to live less vicariously and more ... well, just more.

dumb child

Wise-beyond-her-years. Holier-than-thou. Self-taught anything. Martyr.

Nothing but excuses for the emptiness within. More than a fear of knowing failure - though that alone is debilitating enough - but a panoramic passivity, a blanket blankness that keeps out any glimpse of volition, struggle, awareness, identity, rebellion, ...

[12.44 Thu 02-Sep-2004]

non-stick

Ever the dabbler. Scatterbrains. Halting abruptly upon initial contact so as to prove I-could but not find out how-far. Yet, however tantalising the possibilities, or romantic the notion of what-could've-been's, Potential by definition amounts to Nothing. It remains ever elusive, nugatory, until materialised through execution, not speculation. Keeping-options-open is but a euphemism (cowardice) of those too proud too confused too hopeful to make up ther minds.

[19.04 Sun 22-Aug-2004]

emobesity

n. The state of being afflicted with emotional excess of such disastrous proportions as to render one rigid, stagnant and impenetrably blind in the slightest triumph or defeat alike.

[15.11 Fri 06-Aug-2004]

burning questions

Who...?
- was she to you
- you, her
- made the first move
- the last
- the arrangement in-between

What...?
- did you offer each other that nobody else could
- prevented you from staying together
- would you give to have it any other way, then or now

[21.11 Wed 04-Aug-2004]

Strictly non-fiction. What a story too, behind that. Nothing remotely original but scandalous enough to hush a child for years. Hence virtually no one (that's right, not even you) has heard it... yet. Just as well, as it explains so much, and I can't have people figuring me out so easily.

But I've moved on (finally), as have the protagonists of the story (ostensibly). Perhaps it's time to clear out the closet.

blind hypocrisy

(Is there any other kind?)

Before you celebrate diversity, try describing to an Other what you perceive to be Their idiosyncrasies without making them feel patronised or outright offended.

Before you embrace commonality, recall the times and ways you have spoken of an Other amongst Yourselves and in so doing sensed a greater likeness within.

Before you advocate equality, enumerate all that an Other must do and be to qualify as no-less-deserving.

[19.40 Sun 01-Aug-2004]

not so epiphanic

Indispensible.

All that I've been dying for (of?) is encapsulated, with astonishing simplicity, in this one word.

Family offers, albeit at times exasperatingly so.
That last job* offered, which made parting all the more excruciating.
Friendships offer infinite potential thereof.

Can't decide which is more alluring - being, or letting someone be.

[18.19 Thu 29-Jul-2004]

* Kumon

this is a test

For the umpteenth time I find myself in agonising anticipation of a contingency I know neither how to handle (Could I possibly say anything comfortingly innocuous?) nor what to learn from (Will it be closure exacerbation remedy revenge...?).

A less imperfect person would perhaps hope for non-occurrence, for the sake of those who supposedly - according to my present frame of mind - stand to benefit from otherwise.

[17.42 Mon 26-Jul-2004]

missing

she says she couldn't find
anyone to love
so she'd rather be homeless for life -
from this quiet town
to that bustling city
come and go as she pleases, never heeding traffic lights

noisy music in bars
lets her forget momentarily the woman that she was
her soul recklessly swaying, she whispers into every ear:
"where have all the good-enough men gone?"

no romance in the making
she can but ride on intoxication to dispense youth
stubbornly holding each gaze
only to discover want of candour on her part also

push open closed doors
dry in the wind the tear trails on her face
then roam wild in early spring through unfamiliar streets
until the world forgets this such person

[11.13 Mon 19-Jul-2004]

Lyrics of a perfectly hopeless Chinese pop song. Yes would ask me to sing it whenever we're alone in my car late at night. I seldom grant such requests, given her tendency to break discreetly into tears at frequent random junctures.

the reluctant masochist

Can the ultimate pleasure be to crave only the unattainable? To be so consumed by desire for what one cannot have, that one knows neither having nor parting with what one has?

Wanting might be better than having, but only because to want costs next to nothing whereas to have could cost everything. As a corollary, being unwanted is worse than being unhad...

[18.22 Fri 16-Jul-2004]

spectator sport

Such is my so-called Existence thus far.

The pattern has long been emerging: immersing oneself in Others' lives => until one begins to mistake these for one's own => only to collapse in astonishment at Their supposed abandonment or betrayal.

What stupidity. What cowardice. What self-annihilation.

[09.44 Thu 15-Jul-2004]

for auction

I am a slave for affection
Remunerate me with commiseration
and I shall proffer my undying devotion

All ye masters of charity patience indignation
Indulge me while I flirt with despair
or gasp in exasperation
Then yours shall be
the rest of this inexplicable creation

[19.05 Mon 12-Jul-2004]