infinity

surrounded by choruses of drunken flirtatious banter, we sat there, shielded by a deep unseen connection. she said many things, each word a source of fascination and rumination, a string of which stood out more than others.

"he wants your strength. he will try to take it. don't give him your power."

i sometimes wonder whether warnings are always meant to be unheeded so that we may recognise that they were in fact, warnings, legitimate ones, on hindsight. always on friggin' hindsight.

this was the one thing i did not dare tell you, the only bit i left out, the most important bit. that night, i teared on your chest while you wondered why i had stopped smiling. but you did not know it then. that for the first time, not only had i stopped smiling infront of you, but that i had also allowed myself to cry. my heart was full and breaking every time it was nearing the end. it was always going to be the last time, did you not see?

i now wonder whether it is too late. i'm not sure you deserve it. but this time, i say, i refuse to play the victim. this time, i say, i knowingly choose these things, and i will choose again. it just won't be you the next time, i always say, every time, every time, i drive away.

the truth is, i fear your world and i want to run as fast as i can, towards the other direction, into the arms of everything familiar and safe. but it was those very arms i had bolted from in the first place, sure never to return.

the truth is, the only running taking place is the one where we go round and round, in hopeless, never-ending circles.

a dream

when all this over, no. before all this is over. i want to live in a little wooden house by the sea for a while. there will be a room with a keyboard, a guitar and my mac. windows facing the waves. the smell of coffee. a lighthouse in the distance. some days, the seas will be as grey as the sky. other days, impossible hues of pink, orange and purple. but at all times, extensions of the heart. song after song. unstoppable. until it is perfect (it can never be). until it is perfect. i'll sing as loud as i want. strum my heart out. whisper, scream, snap my fingers, who cares. i have to do this.

-insert riff, play on repeat, tap feet-

treading ever so gently, so carefully and quietly. like a pleasant guitar arpeggio that masks the wounds contained by words. the glint in the eye, matching the smile. so easy to fool. "there's always a reason to laugh," i carelessly utter. let it all slide, it's all so calm.  a certain lightness, so unbearably light it weighs down my bones, all the way to my feet and into the ground. float like a ghost, going nowhere. anti-gravity. where is home, the heart wants to know.

and let me fall into the dream of the astronaut

our bodies say what our lips will never dare to utter. and when we're apart, the space becomes a vacuum, a vortex of our emotions, feelings and the things left unsaid, and we are the only two excluded, we choose it. we become two planets again, individual, alone, continuing along our original orbits. the light years may bring us together a few days later, what is time in this place? where is this place? who are you? a chaotic, insane collision amidst the deep blackness of the sky that surrounds us. we will never know the true colour of sky. brilliant lights, hot energy, a black hole. space.

heart skipped a beat

5 years and 4 months. almost 2000 days of our lives. how all those hours disappear in a moment, a heartbeat. suddenly, you're not here. the ghost of your fingers through mine. i wore that ring you gave me to sleep the other night; time, circumstance, and place will never be able to understand nor contain this love we shared, share. i put the ring back in the box when i awoke and promised myself to never wear it again, until (if) we are brought together again in this life. you are up there, soaring above the clouds, just as i dreamed. just as you dreamed. you never really know how much love you are capable of, you never really comprehend love, until that moment when you set the one you love free. how funny that a tear can contain so much pain and joy all at once. don't turn back, my love. keep moving, keep walking, keep soaring. open wide your arms, embrace your dreams. and maybe one day, those arms will find me in them again. maybe. but for now, don't look back. fly.

it stung like a violent wind, that our memories depend, on a faulty camera in our minds / the last moments

i came to say goodbye to you. as with most other goodbyes, i pray it isn't, it wasn't, the last. chatter steadily filled the room as more people entered. our conversation dissolved into theirs. they were asking me all these questions and i was giving them all these answers, but my gaze was on yours. yours was on things not seen, but most definitely felt. a tear broke free from your right eye and poetically traversed down the lines on your face. you summoned what little strength you had then and uttered the next few words slowly and purposefully.

"shireen. i feel very sad. you are leaving." i wiped your tear away, that precious tear, and told you that i would come back and that i would see you again.

"mmm," your standard reply as you signalled your acknowledgment. it took too much for you to talk these days, i treasured every word you spoke. i treasure every word you speak now.

the truth is, we both didn't know whether that was the truth. the truth is, my heart was breaking through my reassuring smiles. i don't know who i was trying to reassure.

but you let me go anyway and we promised to always say a prayer for each other. i gave you a hug and kissed you. it was time to leave, there were bags to pack and a plane to catch.

i replay this scene over and over in my head now, fiercely clinging onto, protecting, preserving, every moment we shared. time plays tricks on us and memories always seem to blur into one, but i resolve to never forget you.

i walked into a beautiful church the other day. i remembered your words. "light a candle for me whenever you enter a church." the grandeur of the church and the simple candle set alight, it couldn't have been more fitting. our insignificance is, in reality, surrounded by and drenched in divinity. a simple prayer for a beloved grandmother wafted into heaven then. three days later, they tell me you're unconscious and haven't stirred since. yet, there's a quiet calm because i know that heaven is with you in that silence.

but one thing is true and this is for certain. i love you, amama. thank you for everything. you couldn't have been more perfect and you did good. you did great.

i pray these words will somehow reach you. i pray that God preserves your beautiful heart, clothing it with peace and his glorious love, even as your life here slowly fades.

again, i love you. i love you. thank you.

strength

i've learnt that feelings, no matter how intense, fade.

you, who made me think the world of you until i shrunk into myself. if i let the feelings pass on by, i will finally see you for who you are, and me, for who i am.

you, who disarmed me with your squinty eyes and broad, child-like smile till it was the only thing i saw when i closed my eyes. if i let these feelings pass on by, perhaps i will see that you are still a boy.

three seasons in a day today. the sudden bout of winter hail, gusts of autumn wind, the spring-like evergreen trees that line my street. summer sun, come warm these bones.

i get stronger everyday. i will.

rock and water

it really blows, sitting here and waiting for you. sometimes, i wish i had no one to wait for. my love comes in glorious waves, ready to drench and overwhelm. it slams straight into the hardest wall you've ever seen and scatters into a million little droplets. broken, and the droplets are all mixed up. slowly, i ebb away and retreat into the vast expanse of insignificant little molecules. and as time goes by, i start to feel brave again. i think of what is waiting for me at shore. i gather strength, courage. the waves begin to crescendo, and with confidence, i head to shore to seek you and drench you with my love. and you're not there. just the hardest wall i'll ever meet. i become a million little droplets again and dissolve into myself. again.

perhaps you were never really there to begin with. my head hurts.

lessons from running 

the truth is, sometimes, it is best not to think of the finish line, especially when you're running a 21.1km race and you're at the 14.23948km point and everything in you and of you is screaming, "what the hell am i doing here? i don't think i really need this. i could be somewhere else, having a snooze, watching tv, having a nice sunday brunch,  yadda yadda yadda..."

because in all honesty, at that point, sometimes the weariness, inertia and sense of defeat and discouragement you feel outweighs just about every promise of glory, joy, admiration and all that jazz.

rather, at that point, i have found that the best thing to do is to just, keep going, keep running, keep breathing. don't think about the finish line (it will feel unreachable then). don't think about the people around you running faster or slower than you. don't think about how unglamorous you look right then running lopsidedly, hair all over your sympathy-inducing face, your t-shirt drenched from inefficiently hydrating yourself at one of the water points earlier. don't think about who was not there for you. don't think about what you should do with your whole life after this. don't think. about anything else but that moment. just keep running. you already sorted out why you were doing this over and over again before, it's not the time to do that now.  now is the time to just remember why, even if it sounds like nonsense, and run.

and before you know it, you'll be 2km away, and then 1, then 0.00032, and then 0.

i'm reaching the middle of my whole psychology honours year here in australia. i know there have been, and there are going to be way more challenging...things besides this that i will go through in my insignificant existence here. but right now, i'm a little tired, a little overwhelmed, and although i'm kind of going it alone, i'm somehow doing fine.

because at times like these, running taught me that all you can do is to just keep running despite of it all, at moments of disillusionment, weariness, jadedness and doubt, during the course of your mission and the fulfilment of your dreams.

ships are launching from my chest

i need to write again, i need to sing, i need my voice to fly into an open space and resonate with the cries of my heart! i need my keyboard, i need to be astounded by the flurry of notes swimming inside, waiting to break through the surface to show me the immensity of my spirit. i need to break free from your hold on me, i'm so far away and yet i'm not free. i will be. i will be. i....

my body, my wonderland

there is something therapeutic about physically grooming yourself. i imagine this akin to the benefits of gardening. the pruning is never complete, new weeds grow while you are plucking out old weeds, flowers fall to the ground as new seeds are being planted, a part of your white fence is browned and greyed by dust and rain as you touch up paint on some other parts.

i never really bothered about such things before, because i was vain about being vain perhaps? and also because i felt better use could be made of our limited time in this meagre existence. but as i grew older, as i am growing older,

as i grow older,

i start to take notice of my body more. what are these eyes that make up my vision? and look at these nails that cover the flesh on the tips of my fingers. oh, what is this blue black doing there? and the nail that fell off two months ago, it's growing, it's growing! and the little hairs on my skin, how they too grow (the weeds of my physical existence), i use my nifty lawnmover to eliminate them. and there they are, growing again. these lips, the softness and smoothness of them as they receive the conditioning they need from hydration. the cracked desert floors they resemble as they are abandoned to thirst. the war between fats and muscles and cellulite, the waist that expands or contracts depending on how much waste i welcome or expel.

my body is so alive, so strong and resilient, self-replenishing, self-regenerating. but yet, so fragile and sensitive to change. the pain in my left, second toe, did i injure a nerve while unknowingly kicking it into a...i wouldn't know, i was unknowing at the time. dark rings under my eyes, where the skin is so thin, because i spend hours staring at the computer or sleeping too little or dreaming with my eyes closed for too long. the tattoo on my right inner wrist that has become part of this body, how my body accommodates this change and the butterfly becomes a part of me.

i begin to enjoy this process of (rather tedious and never-ending) grooming, for now at least, for different reasons for sure. not so much because i desire to be desired, which i do of course (don't you?). but more so because, it allows me to take time to appreciate the details of my body, my gift. and the process of transforming, is somewhat liberating. as colour gets splashed on nails adding excitement to footsteps, as hair (weeds) get pulled off from their roots revealing the ebony of my skin, as hair (tendrils) gets combed or clipped into place, falling where they will, curling where they must, this body, my canvas, becomes my masterpiece, over and over again. what a strange and wonderful revelation.

i thank God for this body, his original masterpiece, and i make a little pact with Him to take better care of it simply because, it is His gift to me, and a very awesome one at that.

remembering and forgetting

i don't have to be sad, i don't have to be like you, to feel like i love you, to show you that i love you. there's too much love out there, too much beauty and life and fun, too much awesomeness all around and within me, to be sad for more than an hour or maybe even thirteen minutes. eye-bags aren't that cool anyway and you can't put loose change or breathmints in them even, they serve no purpose other than to remind you that you've spent far too much time ignoring and avoiding total...awesomeness.

there's so much to say, but right now i feel that these things won't really matter for much longer. i cried for maybe sixteen minutes. it was highly necessary, the tears dissolved into a glorious epiphany, that i was wasting all these tears and time crying over...this. then I cooked the best baked alfredo pasta i had ever eaten, cleared the wardrobe which would've swallowed my room up in time, played lots of online poker and had the most refreshing shower ever.

i get so busy healing myself of you that i always forget who loved me first. when i remember, it changes everything and i don't have to be that scared little girl anymore.