2 minutes

tarnished memory
brilliant symmetry
expressive eyes
laughing cries

knifed edges
silly pledges
hurried conversations
forgotten recollections

jittery nerves
smooth curves
lazy smiles
turbulent trials

cream+butter
sweet as another
jack+jill
tumbling off the hill

anywhere but here

it starts off with an ache, a niggling pain pushing through the hidden entities of your insides. it builds up fueled with passion as the minutes become hours, days flicker and calendar pages are torn out. this dreaded wait. this broken hope.

she eats to calm the blazing chaos inside her, the sweetness feels strange as it cannot comfort her like it used to. emptiness fills her only to give room to more space, this paradox confuses her so she forgets to think. the scorching heat torches her skin and hair but she refuses to move from the stone floor. anything but here, anyplace would be a better alternative.

stars twinkle, the night sky shadows all expectation. every home is illuminated by the bright lights of the city. a breeze brought forth sends shivers down her flimsy dress, she shudders but solemnly stays in a fetal position. nothing can change but everything is different. opposites yet so alike.

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I wrote this a month ago and it's been in my drafts just waiting to be published- I don't know what I was thinking at that moment in time when I wrote it, but I think it's fitting with the rain drizzling down the window panes.

father's day '09

gossip girl #1

" Dreams. Everybody has them. Some good. Some bad. Some you wish you could
forget. Sometimes you realize you’ve outgrown them. Sometimes you feel like
they’re finally coming true. And some of us just have nightmares. But no matter
what you the dream, when morning comes, reality intrudes and the dream begins to
slip away. "
— Gossip Girl.

findings

Let's run away and do spontaneous things for the day.

Lie away and make paper chains only to burn in the garden.

Watch the wispy spirals of smoke rise upwards and float away.

Paper stars and glass shards.

Happiness is equally measured with the amount of expectation you have in that one person.

Sometimes forgetting the little things and then being reminded of how lucky you are- it's like the best feeling to ever wake up to.

It can be frightening, exhilarating and mostly- humbling.

Words won't suffice, it's the moment which steals every little letter away.

Our own private arena for colour and bliss.

It's a sanctuary but at the same time a little wonder of change.

Just breathe it all in and don't let your mind even think about it.

History will record itself regardless of what you may hope for.

Let the pages turn and ink flow- it's today which matters.

Forever.

ffffound.com

argh

I carry on ruining the good things around me because quite simply, it's how I am.

same difference

--Inspired from a late night conversation--

We're all so alike, physical features draw our similarities. Look out your window, scan your eyes across the room, the norm will be that we have two eyes, pupils flecked with colours and indefinite length of eyelashes on the ridges of our eyelids, eyebrows line above our eyes. A nose bridges outwards above two moist lips, teeth sharp enough to bite, strong enough to withstand constant wear and tear of everyday eating. Five digits on each hand and foot, nails which grow at the tips of these digits. Bones encased in skin, movement enabled by the muscles and tendons so carefully programmed to work the way we desire. Nerves tingle and carry mundane messages every second, we're all so similar in our physical properties.

Minor differences separate us, maybe the colour of our skin, the slight alterations in our features yet these are all similar in function. It's amazing how though we have the same capacities to breathe, talk, eat and simply live- we are all so unique in personality, character and interests.

A child born in a family dedicated to sciences, cousins immersed in biochemistry, dentistry, pharmaceutical sciences would grow up to be interested in something completely diverse. It's mind boggling how these things happen, we're all so alike in how we function physically but so different in how our thoughts are. Maybe comparing us to robots all created by one hand and then leaving them to the wilderness to see how they would behave with just the basic programming is a bad idea for me. I dunno, I was just so intrigued by how beautiful the world and creation is- all praise to the Creator, of course.

in your words

In an offline message, my friend described me in such sweet words.

I thought a Wordle cloud would be a pretty way to present it.
Miss youuuu <3

books, books and books

Since a very young age, I've loved reading- no matter what the genre was or the topic, I devoured books hungrily, often refusing to get up from my curled position until the book was finished.

My earliest memories include the Jennifer Yellow Hat and Roger Red Hat learning books, they had routine lives and you'd learn of their mundane anecdotes. As ability improved and imagination grew, I would flick through the novels my elder sister would bring from the library. I remember a huge infatuation with spy/detective novels, [Famous Five&Secret Seven] and broken-home themed novels by Jacqueline Wilson. Nick Sharratt's cute illustrations made the books more lovable and memorable.

As I grew up, I was enthralled by Harry Potter [come on, this was inevitable], I think the love still hasn't worn off much. I still pick up the random copies of HP and start from the middle just to relive the magic once again. Like any fan, I seeked other fans and the dorm-corridor I lived at 16 was the perfect place. All my corridor mates were huge HP fans, we'd sit up at night and discuss our favourite characters [mine: Luna Lovegood&Ron Weasley, no contest] and mark our mental countdowns for the next novels. Rowling had us captured in her web of magic and adventure, our mutual zeal for her novels brought a close connection between me and my corridor mates. We had a special bond as our discussions would often go on a tangent from one discussion of HP-related talk, I remember a friend [a non-HP fan] who'd always complain how boring we were, I used to tell her that once she'd read the novels our love would be justified and explained. The books created friendships which I cherish til today, the HP link made conversation flow easily and a stronger bonding between us all. Amazing stuff.

Books still hold a major role today in my life, I've not lost the zeal and ardour for reading. Today while I was walking to the local library, I realised that there's no better feeling than just holding a great book in your hand and delving into the unknown world with full trust that losing yourself is just an option that you choose for yourself. My opinion of libraries being a sanctuary for all was reinforced by my short visit today, the young played with picture books on soft, fluffy rugs and the elderly sat with newspapers, eyebrows furrowed and legs crossed- we were all immersed in our own brand of reading and I think that's truly amazing.