My a little biggish boy

Danish and Olivia, magical monday. Just the three of us.

Flow

Life is full right now, really really full. Maybe possibly more than I can handle but I have willed myself to flow. And the words, they have taken up residence someplace else. Am currently without words and hoping they return soon.

If you say that it can't, then talk to the hand

There's a pink balloon in my room and it will not die. Not that I want it to die, but it's been two weeks and shouldn't it be dead by now? Really, it should be somewhere near the floor looking sorry. Instead, it continues to hover shyly over my side of the bed and let me tell you, it's as pink and buoyant as ever. I've taken to calling her pinkie and I'm rooting for her to make it. I really am.

Cuckoo bird

She's bald now. And I am completely and absolutely not surprise at all.

Please

come closer
because my heart doesn't touch yours anymore

Cleaning out the closet

When at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter - they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you for so long.

Lone eagle

I’m lost and looking for the sky, for moving parts and a place that doesn’t rust. For wheels that burn and a world that turns. For a road that phantom cars still drive down while lovers long lost feel wind that’s blown too long in silver hair. You are the only map I know.

Bop Bop Baby

The idiot

Don’t let us forget that the causes of human actions are usually immeasurably more complex and varied than our subsequent explanations of them.

Pollen and salt

And somewhere on coastlines unknown to me,
you paint your dreams, with reds and blues and greens
You're painting daffodils growing by the sea,
without me.

And you know for the first time, for the very first time, that there will now be a before and an after, a was and a will be.

And that you will never again quite be the same person you were.

18 things before 19

1. Roller skate backwards

2. Take Yaya on a photowalk

3. Fill a book with collages

4. Bake a pie from scratch

5. Celebrate with Ifa

6. Teach Danish the rerun

7. Finish the unfinished

8. Wander aimlessly

9. Fill a jar with magical thinking

10. Drink to "die without regrets" with Brandon

11. Cultivate a collection of found paper

12. Learn to embroider (Nana, perhaps LILY could teach HAHA)

13. Beat my sister at Hearts

14. Get away for the weekend

15. Make key tag jewelry with Sarah

16. Ride my bike along the "eastbank esplanade"

17. Learn how to cook ayam cili padi

18. STOP BROODING

The secret

When you were sleeping on my bed,
I put my ear to your ear and listened
to the echo of your dreams

That is the ocean I want to dive in,
merge with the bright fish,
plankton and pirate ships

I feel like walking up to people on the street that kind of look like you
and ask them the questions I would want to ask you

Can we sit on a rooftop and watch stars dissolve into smoke
rising from a chimney?
Can I swing like Tarzan in the jungle of your breathing?

I don’t wish I was in your arms,
I just wish I was peddling a bicycle
toward your arms

Varisparvi

Bitter aftertaste of misplaced hope

There was, in that small space, the extreme austerity of an almost empty mind colliding with something sweetly frantic and wrong between the many breaths, and an indifference to what would happen when the breathing was quiet again.

You weren't supposed to be there.

The mouse and the model are laughing at us

Olivia, you got me crazy, cause you're so crazy beautiful

The alarming discovery that you were never God

You wasted the very ripest years of your life on a fool, a man who don't pay even the debt he owes to his country, much less to you. He goes on living as if he's done nothing wrong.

Wolfboy

It's like water

but sweeter

Like drug

only much stronger

Like obsession

to the point of destruction

It's like so impossible

almost suicidal

It's like I love you so much

yet you broke my heart

Earth

That dot. It's here. It's home. It's us.

On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there - on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

New Moon

Before you, my life was like a moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars - points of light and reason . . . And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. When you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn't see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason for anything.

A world making its passage

Sometimes when you're sitting and looking out the window, you realize that you don't know how things have gotten to that point. It's that strange time in life where everything is changing in front of your eyes. People who were once important become increasingly distant, and you crave the normalcy that you once knew. It's scary to look back at your life and how it was your life. I took for granted everything that I had, thinking that things would always be that way.

Something once coveted as my 'whole world' is morphing into another casuality of 'growing up'. I've almost gotten to the point where I'd rather be alone. Trying to cling to something that's drifting away becomes increasingly tiring and never ceases to stop the distance from growing. Well I guess I'm just finally accepting that in a few years I will be working and living someplace else, and my friends will possibly be scattered across the country. But, I'll always have room in my heart for the people that once filled it completely.

Seeing how much they've changed; how much you've changed, and how some things will never change. It's almost like meeting a new person, only to find that you have a beautiful web of history behind you.

Prozac Nation

Hemingway has his classic moment in "The Sun Also Rises" when someone asks Mike Campbell how he went bankrupt. All he can say is, "Gradually, then suddenly". That's how depression hits. You wake up one morning afraid that you're going to live.

Wine red sea

This chaos, this calamity
This garden once was perfect
Give your immortality to me
I'll set you up against the stars

This is a lie, this must not go on
This is the time, this is the place

Go get a rock

The fire begins as a spark
Next thing you know the whole world is in flames
Next thing you know it's always the same
Cause nothing ever really change

Back in time

Life, it turns out, goes on. There is no cosmic rule that grants you immunity from the details just because you have come face to face with catastrophe.

On the edge of not wanting to feel

You want me there but you're never here. How is it that I could blind myself to all your faults yet you judge the distance I had gone for you? I am tired of always having to be the one trying to salvage the remains of what we had.

So. Forgive me for not meeting your expectations. Forgive me for not being brave enough to tell this straight to you. Forgive me for having the fear of losing you. Forgive me for all the things I didn't do and have done. Forgive me for all the things I couldn't be for you.

Please. Just this once, let it be about me. Just this once, catch me when I fall. Just this once, love me as much as I love you. Just this once, hold my hands. Just this once, climb the mountains for me. Just this once, help me reach the sky. Just this once, be here with me.

I wanted to be enough for you but there is just not enough of me. Don't misunderstood what I want as expectations. I would never degrade what we have that way. And please don't hate me and say goodbye for being a coward. I just love you too much to tell you I'm in so much pain.

Pure logic

Assuming reality was constant, expectation had to be greater than reality to create optimism. On the other hand, a pessimist was someone with expectations lower than reality, a fraction of diminishing returns. The human condition meant that this number approached zero without reaching it - you never really gave up hope; it might come flooding back at any provocation.

Tagged by Tasha

1. What is your idea of earthly happiness?
Earthly happiness has so many facets. I am indebted to all of it.

2. If you could have a dream come true, what would it be?
To be part of the unicef.

3. What will your dream wedding be like?
I don't have a definitive one in mind yet. Last year I wanted an Indian wedding. Like the ones you see in Bollywood movies. I just like the idea of having people in wonderful exotic colours dancing in joy. But recently, I've taken up my sister's idea of eloping.

4. What is your dream home like?
Living in a greek architecture with a victorian theme inside.

5. What is your ideal lover like?
Everything both my grandfather is.

6. Which is more blessed, to love or be loved?
Both. They come together.

7. How long do you intend to wait for someone you really love?
I don't really like the idea of putting my self worth on the front for a guy. Then again, who knows?

8. What is your favourite luxury in life?
My sense of touch, taste, sight, hearing and smelling. And also the very state of being.

9. What is your most prizzed possession?
A bracelet my late grandfather gave me filled with charms from his trip around the world and my pride.

10. What do you want most in life?
To be a woman that is all women.

11. Who is your style icon?
Audrey Hepburn for her enduring elegance of timeless beauty and charm. And my late grandmother for her personification of beauty, grace and elegance which I got to know of more from her writings.

12. Who would you most like to meet?
Mahatma Gandhi, father of our nation. He made a difference in the world and defied the odds. I would love to spend the day with him by simply listening to his utmost enriched life experiences and non violent fight for freedom.

13. Who is your most favorite hero of fiction?
William Lowell Kane of Kane and Abel. He possesses such intense power, grounded humility and charismatic personality. And EDWARD CULLEN!

14. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
It would take me my entire life to describe her. Just know, that I love her endlessly.

15. Would you rather be single and rich or married but poor?
It depends. Whichever that is able to give me happiness in life. I want to have the satisfaction of being happy regardless.

16. What's the first thing you do every morning?
Read the newspaper.

17. What is your current obsession?
My beloved Danish, and Stephenie Meyer's amazing writings.

18. If you fall in love with two man simultaneously, who would you pick?
The one with an expensive taste for living and an articulate eye for life.

19. What is the one thing in life you can not live without?
God.

20. If you played a prank on someone, and he or she fell for it, what would you do?
Well, it all depends on how crude the prank is.

Born on the same day

I loved the seven year old you then with your Hello Kitty backpack and your hair tied in two, and I still love the eighteen year old you now with your Chanel bag and your silky straight hair.

I love you more than the entire entity in this universe ever could.

I look forward to visiting you and your family halfway across the world this year. And going on an awesome adventure after that.

I love you, Natasha Ridzuan. Forever.

The cuspid that cuts like a knife

I wondered if it were possible to throw one's emotion so that it spoke back to you, a ventriloquism of pain. Because reputations, once they're made, precede you.

Living with intention

Resting my cheeks against the cool marble, I give myself to the melody of the whale songs. There are no lyrics, no refrains. They are more like the chants of African tribes: the pattern, though regular, is foreign to my culture. Not chordal, not symphonic. Themes that you least expect recur, patterns you have heard twice already come through yet again. Sometimes the whales sing together, and sometimes, dramatically, they cry through the ink of the ocean, bemoaning alone.

Rising from the froth of foam

Its brain, I believe, was no bigger than my fist. Intelligence belonged to the tyrannosaurus across the way, with its formidable jaw and fence of teeth. Because only it, would think that I'm esculent.