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Ephemeral Delusion

Tuesday, January 27, 2009, 1:26 AM

Now thats a catch

catastrophe

Out of my life, Out of my mind, Out of the tears that you can't deny.
We need to swallow all our pride, and leave this mess behind.
Out of my head, Out of my bed, Out of the dreams we had, they're bad.
Tell them it's me who made you sad, Tell them the fairytale gone bad

the remedy

Smart mouth bitches,get slapped up
Take it to the trap, get clapped up
Put it in ya brain that the female game, been wrapped up

Baby I've always chosen to live each
&& every moment to the best
Forget the rest come and take a ride with me

Get loose, get crunk, get high, get drunk
To the point of no return, take one more shot
And feel the burn, now work it out

.puke.

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Sunday, January 18, 2009, 2:41 AM

The Massacre

“...it’s funny how we always sigh about being hurt by the ones we adored the dearest; without realizing the sheer fact the we are often making that same fatality as well.” -The remorseful last word of the heartbroken witch.

Scene 1

Long time ago I did a project on all about how the whole idea of the existence of germs and infection concoction came into play in our everyday’s life; it took near half a century for the whole idea to be literately printed in reliable texts and for doctors to be convinced, yet this revolution was worth the while. Our body is perfectly balanced with different humours, and basically both physical changes and environmental changes can upset this delicate balance; comparably as catastrophic as the toppling of the pyramid of the gases in the atmosphere. I should say that it is vitally critical for us not to disrupt the web. You won’t want to be sick like Gaia.

Someone once mentioned during a casual lunch date that we shouldn’t be friends with our exes; is it justifiable really? Actually I would most certainty love to make peace, well in any case only if they are in the first place willing to mellow out and talk to me. Well, all in all that happened in the past is perhaps too damn complicated, and not worth the effort to explain. Just such a shame how things always turns out so ugly.

A boring day at work when I ran out of leads to call, sheer boredom actually got my other side of the brain to work and I scribbled this crude prose off hand:

The winter and summer have gone,
Who said that the times are old?
Sure will she grieve for the rose,
Yet pray for the soul she had scorned.

I know it is still pretty vulgar, but it is probably the details I wish for people to notice. Indeed a shame when the good days had passed. Talking about having paramour, nobody could do it better. This world that I’m living in, I still consider it to be pretty fair, since the whole idea about karma still exist, in fact I’m afraid of it. Ironically, one of my first encounters though broke my heart pretty much; it is coming back to him now. What a shame, I wish I could look at him with that hatred, yet I couldn’t. One of the rare moments where we could have private time together was the time I feared, I was scared, those tongue, intriguing yet irking, were of the serpents’. You may have had that sensation before - One raging, intense second where our faces seems to come so near, perhaps only some millimetres away, where we can almost sense each others breath; that warmth exhaling from the nostril gently breeze down your lips; a teasing touch of your nose; what voluptuous lips she has – soft, plump and pink; delicious but dangerously sinful, yet comparable to the extra slice of pizza you contemplate to gulp down or no.

Well I say we should be on a diet sometimes, wait until your body tells you its fine to eat, yet again or maybe not. When you starve yourself enough, the next meal never fails to taste strikingly extravagant.

Scene 2:

As we strolled down the streets of Jalan Petaling, Kuala Lumpur, one early afternoon, the sight was awesome; buzzing and bursting with freshly opened stalls back to back down the long dainty street, colourful tentages with astonishing wide array of products from clothing to food, people shouting and yelling across the road, touting customers in that fast, competitive manner which perhaps will scare the timid ones whom never set foot in a suburban market before; a mere difference of a dollar or two may mean business or no deal for you. It is common knowledge that the goods they sell are counterfeits, yet one bag could fetch up to RM200 dollars. To begin with you will probably need some tutorials on how to bargain, rule of thumb to immediately slash half or more of the initial offered price, before working your way up slowly. That excitement of cutting prices, seemingly comparable to the adrenaline flow through your veins, have summed up to the most exhilarating entertainment in the highlight of the game; the low is perhaps when you carry your trophy back , leaving this beautiful scenery behind. I wished that my eyes were as capable as a camera, to be able to capture in an instance how the busy street feels and smells like, yet they failed me.

We made a wrong turn from that frenzy walkway into a short dead end. What welcomed us was a Japanese couple, perhaps in their late 60’s, the gentleman sitting down on a parapet stone, his deep wrinkled eyes were focused and enduing on that almost finishing sketch book on his lap. His wife was standing quietly beside him, looking down at his old companion’s drawing once in a while; fanning herself slowly with a brown fold-fan. They both looked solemn, age ashed on their skin, you can called that buried in deep thoughts or mere focus; either way their aura captured me deeply as we first caught sight of them. Not that I am a biggest fan of Japan, in fact the old-fashioned patriotic me find those Japanese lover distasteful - to an extent.

We walked up to them and observed his water-painting, brilliant art piece I’d say; perhaps it is over-ambitious of me, over exaggerating to compare his piece to that of Allan Barns-Graham, but still the oldness (antique breeze maybe?) of that particular street we were in seemingly added an interesting twist to the situation. Like how different Perrier would taste with a freshly sliced lemon and crushed ice in a clear glass, maybe if I had seen this couple along the streets of Singapore I won’t even notice them.

His wife noticed our presence and started chatting us up, until the old man finished his painting and looks up adoringly. Indeed he looked satisfied with his work, as he paraded his sketch book to us proudly like that of a kid showing off his starred homework. We fussed over it, a little “polite” commotion over it until I though I heard him said something.

“Don’t let your husband control your life!"

Those words literately shot into my ears like bullets, lethal yet comforting. Contradicting it is, just like how that was something I have been trying to convince? Somehow it seems to reassure me for the first time that the thoughts I have had harboured in my head wasn’t completely unjustifiable after all; I found an ally finally. Although time after time had I tried to preach and it never seems to get across, it is the best yet I could do. I don’t want to see how hurt they look when they realise that they can’t be the person I wish for them to be, but it is not really my issue anyway.

Don't you just love learning something new everyday, this desire for knowledge is yet never as huge as those lousy egos. Fuck egos, dumb birds they are.

Scene 1: What an interesting "confession"! The poem is very evocative.

Scene 2: This is a very detailed description, and I like the way your walk gets you into the encounter with the Japanese couple...and eventually, into the analysis.
Fuck the egos, you say. I agree. So does Eckhart Tolle.
Have you read him?

Heavy thinker you are! I gotta read more!

Hey mr blackstone

What a compliment, im flattered haha. i havent read eckhart tolle's books before, but i'd sure to check it out.

That jap painter used to be a professor in a japan uni, how interesting isnt it?

x

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