Ephemeral Delusion

Saturday, March 28, 2009, 2:53 AM




The interview in front was rather trashy I felt. I'm seldom a fan of all girls band, but this two beings really got something- girls on the keys are awesome.

I would waste another dream on you; always run to you.




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Monday, March 23, 2009, 11:03 PM

I Wanna Explode, Just Watch Me

As I kept bumping into Keon these days, he reminded me of the Camelot times. That place was literally an enactment of the Earthlings; and I’m not this bit exaggerating! I took up the job because I was desperate for one, swinging my idle ass around for too long made me bored of everything, really. Over at Camelot, whenever we had the opportunity- we would run off to the end of the building just along the beach for a light. Now who cares if we were racist? There then beside the beach was where the show starts- someone is on someone's lap, people taking dirty, exes travelling all the way in hope of rekindling that spark, stories of now and then, exes and new hook-ups. It was sheer entertainment, me lying on one of the overturned canoes drink on one hand and light on the other, the salty sea breeze spears through my hair making a rustling sound, occasionally sweeping an insect or two off my neck and of course, listening hungrily for one juicy story after another. It was nothing malicious, don't get me wrong. Of course there was this one or two beings I was particularly impressed with, not only was the physique but also the... Well, it is the overall impression I guess.

Ah, there was this guy that really annoyed my ass off as well. This particular one- fat, overage and obnoxious, went on rattling about him being a stuntman before on the first night. Did I even look interested? I swear if I had one more drink I’d stuff the cig butt up his nostril. Yea, some people just don’t know when to back off.

It is this kind of epiphany that kills, I say.




As I fell back into slumber this morning, I dreamt of her- holding my baby in her arms.




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Sunday, March 22, 2009, 4:29 AM
EBR

Goodbye love,

I really loved you so- it was that moment people say, you snap and figures it all out. I had no choice but to let you go, for it was something that had been bothering me (and almost everone as a matter of fact), that had been putting us in pain and such great struggle for that matter of time. If I had a choice, if only I had been in a better position to be the prescription of my own well being, I would never- never, resort to this. But for the betterment of us, I have to let go.

Life is just so horrible sometimes. So dark we dwell, so this much we can hang on to. It is all about not being insecure, and finding your own identity, is it not?




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Thursday, March 12, 2009, 3:52 AM

The stubborn walnut

Once upon a time there was a squirrel called André. He was taught to eat walnut all his life, because his mother told it so. André never dared to go against his mother wishes, for he only wanted his mother to be happy, and proud of a squirrel like him. And one day while opening walnuts he suddenly had a revelation-

‘I think I’m sick of eating walnuts only. Why can’t I eat something else other than this silly brown, nutty chunk of thing?’

André’s mother walked out of the kitchen suddenly, with walnut flans fresh from the oven. Commanding for André to try her new dessert, André fidgeted nervously in his seat, trying to curb the spells of acid juice purging out of his small, knotted stomach- or was it his intestines? The flan looks so beautiful, so many of them, brown and white and charred black lying in the baking basket for André to choose from, he is absolutely spoilt for choices. He peeked at his mother, her eyes gleaming with such bright solemn it scares him. Did she catch him being flicked minded about these silly pastries; or was she calculating secretly how to parade him down the aisles with the walnuts in near future?

What an irony, now that he is given the chance to eat flan, yet he misses the walnuts. When his mother decides to break the news to him about walking the aisles, perhaps, he would regret then.

Poor flans; André should have known better. I discovered this revelation long ago, yet I wouldn’t perceive it like how André did of course. The flans had their revenge after all, as the healthier one managed to point her finger at him beaming brightly,” Told you it is merely a phase!”




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Monday, March 9, 2009, 11:25 PM
Piercing it up.

I randomly bumped into some of the old stuffs; you know some things that old friends wrote, some old photos, some old thoughts. And I couldnt help but have this disorientated thinking:

TO you (however your), whom made me feel dismantled:

I HAD NO IDEA HOW FUCKED UP I HAD BEEN, THOSE FUCKED UP EPIPHANIES OR RATHER, IMAGINARY SCENARIOS THAT MADE THINGS WRONG, THINGS GONE, SUNSET OR SUMMER'S OVER. I APOLOGISE TO MYSELF, TO YOU, TO THEM.

YOURS
TS








Looks like the end of history, is it not? It is a revision to the present, please- dont be like me. This is a chance to bloom, dont waste it. Instead prove it to me, that you can make it [right.thgir]. They were right about it not being worth it after all.

Closers.




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Tuesday, March 3, 2009, 12:29 AM
An Abominable Debacle

‘What hast thee? Thee dost, tee be’st fat witted sweet wag, but I still adore ye so. Ye art my world, for grace thou wilt have none- I wilt no longer yearn, but shalt wait thou lovedest.’

This kind of subterfuge is working, is it not? I thought I had come a long way in settling for this peace. Tragically, when you don’t put the picture in the centre, they will fall together nicely. He drives by, pulled his car and enters the house straight to the kitchen. Tyler is still deep asleep; he wastes no time whipping breakfast for her and surprise. Sunny side ups the way she likes it, pancakes with maple, sausages, and greens. The sound of parmesan jumping off the toaster woke Tyler up. She stirred, only feeling gravity yet she smells trouble. She jumps off bed; that dark blue navy bed sheet she loves so much, pull a sweater too big for her (that grey cardigan she remembers) and dashes out. There he stood, tall and handsome, his back arched against the counter. He twirls around and greets her with a peck on her right cheek, whispering ‘good morning baby’ in a sing song fashion it irks her. He pulls a chair, and she sat, wondering what is with his uneasiness. Had he seen something? As he brings her the plate of breakfast, the intended uneasiness caught her eyes- at the edge of the table, positioned strategically beside the vase- lilies were it? Or were them tulips? What a beautifully white scene, portraying infinitely the delusion of cleanliness and innocence.

The ring it is, resting on the hazel shaded silk scarf on top of a tea cup saucer.

You can see it impending don't you? This disastrous, monotone piece of news is no child’s play. Perhaps, Tyler will take it; there is no other choice for her. There has never been this thing called choice for her in the shade of grey. Never mind the anxiety attack; you will be able to live it through I promise. Do or die, this isn’t a bad bet (choice?) I say, this is a jackpot with a zest of clumsiness.







Does you husband know the way, the sunshine gleams from your wedding band?




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