Tuesday, February 20, 2007

I dream

While on holiday in my hometown, Alor Setar, I managed to write two pieces. The first is a letter denouncing the downright ridiculous suggestion for women to wear chastity belts so as to reduce sex crime rates. Hopefully, the Star'll publish it. The second is a scene from one of my fictional stories, which I hope to complete and send off to Silverfish soon.

~
Do you know what croses my mind in the heavy glaze of the afternoon? During nights that tremor with songs of loneliness sung by stars? During the minutes that fly by as I am performing some random activity?

I dream of you and me on some distant island, being drenched by the thunderstorm as we seek warmth through our embrace beneath a large, age-old tree.

I dream of you and me dining in an exquisite restaurant in the city of Florence, our tongues flooded with such rapturous sensations, our ears soaking in the notes of an intricate string symphony.

I dream of you and me lying together on a creaking bed in a cheap motel room, where the bathroom door cannot be locked and the sheets are a dirty white color, making love with the passion of an artist furiously creating a masterpiece.

Finally, I dream of you drawing back as I attempt to kiss you. When I start to rush off in frustration and anger, you pull me back and push me roughly against the wall, kissing me with a fire that burns with desperation, anger, and uninhibited desire...destroying the universe that contains our banal existence, merging us into one for a single brief moment.

~

Written at 12:28 AM

5 comments

Saturday, February 17, 2007

ocean soul

I'll be leaving for Alor Setar in about 3 hours time. And I'm still awake...blogging. Tsk. Why do I torture my body like this? Well, I won't be driving. So, it's all right.

~
And so she wonders...will he ever notice her? Look at her beyond the trappings of achievement, beyond the boundaries that men have drawn between them, beyond the invisible chains of ink and paper?
No, he will not. Not in the way she desires. Because if he did, her world would explode in flame, burning them both in the ashes of the night, amidst the cries of lust and love in cheap motel rooms and red-lipsticked bargirls.
What happens then? Should she continue to hope for the impossible? Or attempt to bury her hopes deep in the sands of distant memories, never to be recollected save on a day when loneliness pervades her and raindrops begin to fall, salted by the tears on her cheeks. Perhaps then, it is safe to recall her memories and begin to hope.
Until then, she should dress in white and search the sea...an ocean soul.
~

Written at 12:55 AM

1 comments

Monday, February 12, 2007

rebirth

And so, she asks him, "How did you get those scars?" He answers her, in a voice warm as the stroking of skilful fingers. She says nothing, only listens intently, pulling the sheet around her tighter as it is cold. "Will you love me?" she asks, pleads him...a god of flesh, clothed in glory that inspires awe. She longs to be consumed in the fire of her sacrificial offering of body, mind, soul and spirit. Burning up in flames to grains of ashes...only to be reborn from the ashes like a phoenix.
He says nothing in return, knowing that he cannot love her. He is bound to another. But he caresses her anyway, a transient impermanent assurance that will disappear with the morning sun. It is not inadequate, however...she does not long for anything more. So, she rests quietly in his embrace, soaking in the cool moonlight that glimmers upon her skin. When the sun appears, she wakes up, and he is gone.

~

Written at 2:20 AM

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Monday, February 05, 2007

your immortal

My Immortal (Evanescence)
I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone.

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
Chorus
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

Chorus

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

Chorus

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Written at 2:36 AM

3 comments

Friday, February 02, 2007

short story: untitled (pt 1)

Was inspired to write. Wanted to go to sleep after playing o2jam...but well, when inspiration hits you like a ton of bricks, you don't just lie down there. You do work! I'm joining the Silverfish writing competition, by the way. Hmmm...they don't want any published work. Does posting bits of my writing on my blog count as being published? Oh well...I'll probably edit it anyway. And it's not as if I'm getting paid a cent for winning the competition. Haha. So, here goes. The beginnings of a piece...

Untitled (as yet)

It is a story that none dare to tell. Whisper a word of it, and hush! Immediately, brows furrow and eyes flash with rebuke, a finger pressed hard against the lips. Such things do not happen here, not in the safe confines of a life filled with mundane but fulfilling housework and nine-to-five jobs. Rubbish! That is what they tell you as their eyes harass you into accepting their beautiful bland reality as truth. Beauty lies in banality. That is what they urge you to believe; with insistent voices that grow louder and louder till they match the pitch of a religious fanatic screaming for fire and brimstone to rain upon unrepentant sinners.

Do not believe them, my child. The world is made out of more than fraying business suits and worn out frying pans. They seem so earnest because they have pushed the truth to the back of their minds...simply because the truth is too ugly to comprehend. We love beauty. All of us do...don't you, my child? I do, too. And because I have seen the sheer ugliness of truth, the monstrosity that lurks behind a façade of beauty, wrapped safe in the shadow of normality...normality, they call it. Hah! Safety is not normal. Beauty is not normal. Banality is not normal. What are normal are the monsters walking down the street in hordes, the ghosts sitting in the train, the regular transformation of beast to man to beast again. THAT is normal, my child.

Would you like to find out more? Are you not afraid yet? Do you not see me with their eyes? The eyes of the fools, the cowards, the undead! Those who pretend to live perfect domestic lives, ensconced in their tiny world of expensive shopping bags and fancy-sounding food recipes, are the ones who suffer the most. Fighting the monster is easier when you have the flake-thin support of rumors--rumors that people believe, spread in whispers and nudges. But when you get queer looks and voices scraped with unbelief, you have already lost the battle.

Why did you not stop me, my child? I have been rambling on for too long. I am sure that you are dying to hear my story. Remember that this story will not be believed by most. In fact, that's the reason I’m here. Haha. But, hush! The night is drawing near upon us. We do not have much time. Let me begin.


Written at 2:48 AM

3 comments