we're so close to something better left unknown
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25.11.09
another dream. so vivid. that's how all nights are like. i was in a deep hall, there was haze, smoke, jumping on one leg and screaming like the other one was on fire, except i was in a good place, friends all round (you don't count) hands all round, diamonds falling out of the sky, jumping around on beds, checking your reflection in other people's eyes, everything can be excused. grab his waist and spin him around, interlocking fingers and jiggly dances. heads thrown back in mad laughter, happy, happy thoughts, happy
sometimes i don't know what's going on anymore. sitting on the black floor of a dim toilet with the door locked with my arms folded over my head. giving up counting the tiles. ten across, and then there was another horizontal, and then another, a square. then the door is throwned open, hurling all of us into another dimension. the dreams plunge me into a strange form of limbo.
acjc acsian theatre rehearsals this whole week from 9am to 11.30pm, costume/make up for cip hours. sewing till my fingers bleed
24.11.09
awkward jaws, awkward motions. missing people
in the dark. giant ants, your regular russian red army. they
scuttled up my body and dragged a thick river of honey
down my throat. in my sleep a separate universe spins out of
my eyes. in my sleep you wrote letters to my
address, slow and sweet. little elves sewed my dream-dresses,
my thin black lace gown flying and dancing while tiny
hands fixed seams, folded cloth, took measuring tape to my
waist and cried. for the disappearance of sunlight hair.
for the dying child in the dark. wake up, before
they stick needles into your skin and push plastic tubes filled
with god-knows-what into your nose. you have
to choose, i've said before.
but this time it isn't a matter of the heart.
its life or darkness. last december we looked out the window and we saw
the moon eaten alive by winter. bit by bit, chewed down to the last slice
the last crescent. then the sun being swallowed whole. my stomach,
a reflection of what's outside. trying to collect these feelings; missing.
as an emotion that means intense desire, and not a loss.
but they slip through my fingers and spills onto the waxed floor.
gone, i can't keep track of yesterday or last week or the fifteen years
of waiting. and missing. sudden blood trickling down my thighs.
his face being faxed over to europe. (the phone rings. a passive voice,
waiting. europe? when? for good? bite back your tongue and
hang up, before exclamation marks and questions betray your calm) quick fix, pre-emptive measures,
capsules shaken into open palm. your life is a lie i want to believe.
in the end we are only left
with one-word answers: yes, maybe. enough. please. desperate.
waitnowhereareyougoingpleasedon'tleaveme. if i don't see the woods
then foxes do not exist. a bird dying two oceans away is already dead
to me. you, with your house and your wife and your three children,
the quiet wedding in hawaii where i wanted to ---
the long elegant french windows you promised -------
your small garden and side swing and
a red mailbox and a dalmatian and
bookshelves filled with my favourite books
garden parties so fabulous they were featured in vogue living,
i know this because one day she invited me over for tea
and i came, clutching the thin strand of the hope that you
might be around. because we both know that fifteen years is
too long. too long. if you're not here by three fifteen i'll leave.
balancing pristine teacups filled with expensive tealeaves and
boiled evian water (who does that anyway. uses bottled water to make
tea.) and "just one cube of sugar please
we sat and she talked happily about married life
while i pleaded with the godfathers of time for the clock to turn
to three. fucking. fifteen.
in the end:
you, me.
we opt for blank features, filtered words,
and this sick muted acceptance.
23.11.09
I'm unhappy because I am dead and I miss you.
to be despised, to be loved
to be dreamt of, to be sought
I'm the inside of "I don't care"
be my unholy
my one and my lonely
black hair, strutting like a peacock. what was it i said you were? abrupt. but interesting. these days the hallways seem to throw up people my heart would like to latch on to. in a dream, of course. tip forward, then back.. he wears confidence like a second skin and it is kinda, really
really wildly attractive.
. .
infinity 2008
take your time to trust in me and you will find infinity
this reminds me of last wednesday at velvet ~epic~
22.11.09
i am calling the following paragraph "the distinction between pain and pleasure"
falling. falling quickly, a slow drifting towards the infinite sequence, the numbers falling and repeating and falling, shuffling backwards through time. twice, twice over. the water comes in a rolling open-world motion, water gripping my wrists and my ankles and i open my arms to give myself over to the waves. not a violation, a gift. the water nymph running his ice-cold tongue over my shivering body, closed eyes. tongue touching teeth. open, and then close. with a jolt, a clammy hand clasping the feathers. i shudder. twice. let the cold melt you from the inside, your secret glass palace melting. outside in the rain, the grey sky began to crumple. i would tell you the truth but, what would i do should you flee. with your hand on the second hand of the clock. dapper, and gold. underneath the mistletoe and in a dream, i said your name. twice. my face on your face. tongue touching teeth. you said wait, we're running out of eggnog. the fire's growing cold. you took with you the stethoscope i was wearing and the last shard of my mind and never came back. sometimes i think i'm still waiting.
awkward jaws, awkward motions. missing people in the dark. giant ants, your regular russian red army. they scuttled up my body and dragged a thick river of honey down my throat. in my sleep a separate universe spins out of my eyes. in my sleep you wrote letters to my address, slow and sweet. little elves sewed my dream-dresses, my thin black lace gown flying and dancing while tiny hands fixed seams, folded cloth, took measuring tape to my waist and cried. for the disappearance of sunlight hair. for the dying child in the dark. wake up, before they stick needles into your skin and push plastic tubes filled with god-knows-what into your nose. you have to choose, i've said before.
but this time it isn't a matter of the heart. its life or darkness. last december we looked out the window and we saw the moon eaten alive by winter. bit by bit, chewed down to the last slice the last crescent. then the sun being swallowed whole. my stomach, a reflection of what's outside. trying to collect these feelings; missing. as an emotion that means intense desire, and not a loss. but they slip through my fingers and spills onto the waxed floor. gone, i can't keep track of yesterday or last week or the fifteen years of waiting. and missing. sudden blood trickling down my thighs. his face being faxed over to europe. (the phone rings. a passive voice, waiting. europe? when? for good? bite back your tongue and hang up) quick fix, pre-emptive measures, capsules shaken into open palm. your life is a lie i want to believe.
in the end we are only left with one-word answers: yes, maybe. enough. please. desperate. waitnowhereareyougoingpleasedon'tleaveme. if i don't see the woods then foxes do not exist. a bird dying two oceans away is already dead to me. you, with your house and your wife and your three children, the quiet wedding in hawaii where i wanted to --- the long elegant french windows you promised ------- your small garden and side swing and a red mailbox and a dalmatian and bookshelves filled with my favourite books garden parties so fabulous they were featured in vogue living, i have zipped you up into a bag and flung your everything far over my shoulder. zipped you straight into non-existence.
one day she invited me over for tea and i came, stupidly, clutching the thin strand of the hope that you might be around. because we both know that fifteen years is too long. too long. sitting on my hands before they betray me. so we sat there balancing pristine teacups filled with expensive tealeaves and boiled evian water (who does that anyway. uses bottled water to make tea.) and "just one cube of sugar please" and i listened to her babble on happily about married life while i pleaded with the godfathers of time for his face / a fresh breath / three fucking fifteen so i could leave before anyone else realised what a fool i had been. love indeed.
in the end: you, me. we opt for blank features, filtered words, and this sick muted acceptance.
i am calling the following paragraph "the distinction between pain and pleasure"
falling. falling quickly, a slow drifting towards the infinite sequence, the numbers falling and repeating and falling, shuffling backwards through time. twice, twice over. the water comes in a rolling open-world motion, water gripping my wrists and my ankles and i open my arms to give myself over to the waves. not a violation, a gift. the water nymph running his ice-cold tongue over my shivering body, closed eyes. tongue touching teeth. open, and then close. with a jolt, a clammy hand clasping the feathers. i shudder. twice. let the cold melt you from the inside, your secret glass palace melting. outside in the rain, the grey sky began to crumple. i would tell you the truth but, what would i do should you flee. with your hand on the second hand of the clock. dapper, and gold. underneath the mistletoe and in a dream, i said your name. twice. my face on your face. tongue touching teeth. you said wait, we're running out of eggnog. the fire's growing cold. you took with you the stethoscope i was wearing and the last shard of my mind and never came back. sometimes i think i'm still waiting.
this is not a test or an SOS I'm no longer on a quest to get girls undressed I search through their hearts and no treasure found I'm so lucky this one lets dogs hang around it's good having somebody good for a change I thought that no good dirty cheats had drove me insane I had finally given up on love and romance if I laid down the sword, I'm giving my innocence
coming for your heart like a cannibal oh, she lets me right in and I fed 'til I'm full if something goes wrong, I'm accountable oh, a life without her is no life at all I la la la la la la la la love you, cannibal queen
BOOKS I HAVE BEEN READING AS OF LATE, which include
Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy by Tao Lin Transformations by Anne Sexton An Education by Lynn Barber Wild Things by Dave Egger White Teeth by Zadie Smith On Beauty by Zadie Smith Sense and Sensability by Jane Austen Coco Chanel: A Biography by Axel Madsen Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffeneger
The book I really enjoyed reading was Transformations. what Sexton did was take the classic fairytales by the Grimm brothers and spun them into the thin pages of beautiful feather-light poetry. So easy to read. Anyway I read the original stories when I was a small child and during a period where my literary diet consisted of nothing but dark Russian troll stories, the fairytales by Hans Anderson, Greek mythology, and the tales of the Knights of the Round table. The often macabre endings made me shudder and left me sleepless and seldom did any of the characters live happily ever after. But never once did they make me turn to the sugar-pickled pink-icing-sprinkled movies Disney provided. I think I am always fascinated by legends and myths. And reading Sexton's Transformations brought that all back. I love all the sinister details. Like how, in Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, the evil step-mother asked the hunter to bring back Snow White's heart, but he was kind and pitied the girl and so brought back to the step-mother, the heart of a boar. And she happily salted the still-beating heart and ate it like a piece of cubed meet. And how in Cinderella, the two step-sisters had, in the original stories, cut off their heels or toes just to fit in the glass slipper, and it worked in fooling the prince at first, till he saw their bleeding feet. The tale of Briar Rose, and how she became Sleeping Beauty: her father, the King, had only twelve gold plates, and so only invited twelve fairies to the feast in celebration of her birth, but the thirteenth fairy, feeling scorned, cast upon her a curse that when she turned fifteen, she would prick her finger and die. But the twelfth fairy, having not given her own magical gift yet, twisted the ending of the curse into one of endless sleep..
Anyway, I feel like I'm in a truly happy and peaceful place. Sometimes the sick sick sadness comes but I've learnt to tell when its coming, and move immediately away from it, putting a distance between it and me.
So this week has been pretty crazy, on Monday I hung at citylink till late, then went over to Hannah's to hang by her pool, and then stayed over at Em's, where we basically spent most of the night watching youtube videos and eating oven-heated four cheese pizza. on Tuesday I met Shu in the morning at the National Library and tried to do some research for my KI IS, but after reading a few paragraphs on the 'changing face of new media and the implications on society' and how the author seemed to project us humans as creatures suffering from the terrible consequences of technology, I gave up and fell alseep on a table till the cutesy librarian tapped me awake to get his pen back. after that Shu and I went to Bugis and I had a bowl of cabbage longtong and froyo! then Eve came and the two of them dragged me down to some unbeknownst place where I was grumpy all day long because of the distance we had to walk under the sun. Shu got her new Eastpak bagpack though, it is very Awesome. I realise when you love people you are willing to follow them anyway, even to places where you feel very uncomfortable and the clothes stick to your body. Evee, Shu, see how much I love you :) that night I stayed over at Xingting's and before she pulled the blankets back over her head we had a really good honest talk. about things, life, me. oh man. anyway, I have thought long and hard (twss) about what she said have and talked it out on my other thought-purging blog. Thanks Xt, I really appreciated it.. Wednesday morning Nash came over and we baked brownies, sat in my room with all the fairy lights turned on and talked. I love Nash lots teehee. after she left I took a long nap, which is rare because I don't really sleep in the day, and then went down to meet Ging/Theo at Meridien that unholy place where boys pay two dollars and hour to stare mesmerized by the light of the computer's monitor and kill other people in a virtual manner. Not my kinda thing. after that I went down to Serene to meet Hannah and Athena and then we had dinner at the french place at the corner and at night Athena Rene Hannah Luke and I went to Emma's place and we watched FIGHT CLUB!!! also I killed Athena three times when we played some Xbox shooting game haha. that night was super trippy. starting off with drinks by the hotel, and then more inside. 'slow spreading of happy feelings across the surface of my face' said Tao Lin, i think half a jug of Long island tea does that to you. i looked at the night sky and it felt like a giant painted canvas that i could pull towards my body and wrap round myself. anyway now all the boys are at Bintan and I miss them!! and Nash and all are at C-cap camp. today I met up with Davelle and we sat around in town doing nothing really but talking non-stop. twas fun, I'm glad we've been hanging more latelty. Lately I feel though that everything's been happening really quickly, and I have no time left to reflect, or even appreciate how happy I am.
So this, here and now: I am in a good place where I think I am slowly learning to love myself, fall in love with people/places, and deal with the shit life throws at me. Thanks friends, for keeping me sane.
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