11/4

i am a ruthless painter.

i will paint you the colour of wretchedness
that soothes the soarest holes of your heart
the bleeding cells of your brain
clouding the darkest spectra of your fantasies
that swells in your loins
splits in your ears
breaks your heart into halves.

…evoking defenseless emotions against my paintings.


a collision of ambitions.

I hope you do. Hi, I'm...

Digging the past, raking the future, grasping the present, trying to figure out the missing jigsaw puzzles. I know he is going to die soon. Sometimes a person does not really necessary have to stop breathing forever to die. They can just lose the will to live, or just simply forgetting how do they end up breathing in the beginning.

I do not want him to die. Not that soon.

Everytime I look at him, in a way, time has not really change everything. Temporarily.

But sometimes I look at him, in several ways, time does change certain things. Permanently.

The memories that are mysteriously gone.

The tiny particles of memories draining out of his mind. He tries to guard them preciously all together with his might, but a failing memory can only withhold this much. And these soon will be dispersed to only God knows where. An abyss of voidness...of space and time. Day and night, he rummages through drawers(probably of those in his mind too), walking up and down the stairs in a fidgety manner, sighing to himself," I am forgetting."

Running out of time. Running out of solutions. Running out of chances.And also soon, he has to wear an identity card, with his name,address and house number on it in case he gets lost. Running out of choices.

He conjugates the past tense lost from the first person of view.He has been lost. He is lost. He will be lost.

I see big gaps of holes in the jigsaw puzzle. I keep on sketching him the empty parts for him because he keeps on asking me again and again,from time to time.

Sometimes, I forget too. I forget that he forgets.

Soon, he will not even remember what does the picture look like in the first place.

And he will ask me, " Do I know you?"

11/3

like you. feeling. know. sorry. never. give. up. challenge. bye.
another poor actor.
please spare me.

03/1/07

I inhaled the warm air, and closed my eyes.The diffusion of it all produced a delusional sensation that boiled abruptly within me. Something that I have not experienced in a long, long time. There was nothing melancholy about the night. And no electricity in the air. I can still recall how pacifying was the sight of the fading luminescence of the sky . In the lavish dark, I strolled past the trees, grown wild and brambly over time. There was an air of elegance to the green leaves, about the way it curled, its wilderness and its fresh, raw fragrance that made its beauty all together familiar. Broodingly familiar.

Beauty is a quality that I find remote, stark and chilling.

15/12

i am feeling rather dissapointed today.
there was this searing pain behind my head that wouldn't go off. it was rather difficult to hold back my emotions and try to smile and talk at the same time. i swallowed my saliva several times, trying to keep myself all together, composed and polite, trying to hold back those tears from flowing in front of my relatives. i didn't feel better. i tried stuffing everything in me and not let it out. like how you empty all of the garbage into a plastic bag and tie it into a tight knot? it was almost the same. but except that they were my emotions. when we were on the way home, rain started pouring down heavily. i just gazed up the gloomy sky, don't know what to expect.
on the way home, a car zoomed past us. in it, there was a handsomely dark ,small boy with big eyes. he looked at me with this sort of unwavering curiosity. so i stared at him back. and then he smiled in respond.

30/11

I tried recalling back all of the little details of it but to no avail. Mother's cunt, I cursed to myself. It is always like that. I woke up with a bad migraine. Blood vessels throbbed hard against my temples. Sweat trickled down my face. I looked out into the window wistfully, longing for some none existent breeze. The heat was overbearing. And the room was stuffy.

I forced myself to remember everything. This time it was different, it was a kind of an estatic frenzy, it was a happy dream.There were wedding chimes, vanilla ice cream, pristine white- colored frocks with pretty laces, ties and bows, cocktail drinks, intimacy and lots of laughter. I saw myself walking down the aisle, smiling...and there was a man, an endearing one that I was totally besotted with. How unusual. Fairytale-like dreams do not usually bestow me. I had to have the dream jotted down before I forget everything, I urged myself.

Fragments of this and that, and nothing more. You see, dreams are always like that. Unlike memories. You can't keep them even though you wanted to. But as for the unwanted ones, they stick to the back of your mind as detestable remnants that will not go off for a long, long time. Like a stubborn chewing gum that sticks to your shoe or like the ink stain that couldn't be washed off.

" I can't believe it actually happened."

Those were the words that I muttered to myself before the dream blurred into nothingness. Were the words an omen or a sign in a way? Could it be significant somehow? Are dreams related to reality? I'm skeptical about that ( I dreamt once that I was sinfully wronged and pregnant). Absurdity,absurdity.

But I digress. I asked myself then, why do people dream. I stared at the four white walls of my bedroom.Pondering. Waiting for a tiny miracle for my question to be answered.

But then again, have not I been waiting for a miracle for all my life?

2/11

yesterday was my birthday. i am a year older now. unbelievable. i'm feeling happy.