Saturday, May 16, 2015

Today

These last few years, I've been growing more silent on the surface. The irony is that I actually have so much more to say, so many answers to my questions and wonderings, some of which I placed here, so many more questions that came as answers. 

These last few years, I dove deep into the waters of my heart. Well, sometimes life kind of held my head under these waters and I often felt I was going to drown inside of myself and never see the end. The deeper I dove, the more there was to be said, and at the same time, the less there was to be said. 

These last few years, there was so much to be said, there is so much to be said, more than ever. The stripping away of protective winter layers dangerously approaching the bare nakedness of my being. Silence, the curtain falls as the show begins to start, she feels the lights go out. In this darkness and solitude, there is terrible fear and loneliness. But she is not alone for kind eyes too roam the world, kind ears, kind hands, kind hearts. They hold her in their gaze when she can't bear to look. They hold her gaze. 

These few days, a certain kindness and light has entered her own eyes. Just the other day, she found her sniffles exploding into grief. "It's ok," she said. "You are sad," she said. "Cry."

These few days, she forgives herself more. Laughs with herself. Listens to herself. Converses with herself. She is surprised to find some of that unaffected youth return to her heart. She still often makes mistakes, people still get mad at her sometimes, but she knows she is not her mistakes. She knows she can do better. She knows she is strong, brave, kind. And she knows that she does not need others to believe this for it to be true. 

Today, she still wrestles with the voices of shame. The icy waters of sadness and loneliness. The hunger to be seen, seen and loved completely. Today, she knows that the presence of these familiar friends no longer means she has no other choice. Today, she does not choose them. She chooses to stay in the game because she deserves a chance and she is worthy of love, just like everyone else. She wants to love from a place of strength, not fear.

Today, and everyday, she will probably have to keep making this choice. I will have to keep making this choice. 

Today, this is what I chose to say. 



Monday, January 20, 2014

sundown, unpublished

we were speeding along the great ocean road. the sun was setting fast, already long hidden by the clouds, pregnant with the sea, the sea pregnant with soon-to-be clouds. everything was quiet and we felt like the only ones in the world. i stepped on the accelerator, racing the sunset, and yet embracing it. sundown is the most beautiful part of the day. sacred even. the final moments of light, the yearning to hold on to whatever you can before you can't anymore, .

(written on 22nd June 2013) 

youth, unpublished

the lift door opens. i try my best not to look at you.
we are waiting at the same bus stop. i try my best not to look at you.
we are running for the bus. i try my best not to look at you.
your band is on the stage. i try my best not to look at you.
i see you at a party. i try my best not to look at you.
we are making a video. i try my best not to look at you.
we are at a wedding. i try my best not to look at you.
i look at you looking at me looking at you.
you hardly knew me. i hardly knew you.
and yet, for two, three, seven, eight years, i tried my best not to look at you.
i wanted so badly for you to look at me. but there was nothing much to see.
one day, i look at you. worse, i speak to you.
"wanna catch a movie?"
"sure."
i steal some glances, turning into gazes, and to my surprise,
you are not you, the one i tried my best not to look at.
funny how that is, i laugh ironically to, at myself.
since then, i don't try my best not to look at you. I could look you in the eye, stoic and unflinching.

we look at different people now. we look like different people now.

but sometimes, i like to go back to that time.
to 3am in the morning on a school night.
running for the lights at the creak of my parents' door.
heart bursting through the ceiling as your name appears.
you are just above me in our little tower. sleepless. searching.
me for you. you for another. maybe.
to the fresh bittersweet feeling of longing in secret.
to the stories of you i created in my head.
to the what ifs and surprise meetings.
to the aching pain of missed opportunities.


(written in Dec 2013)

fear, unpublished

maybe it's time to bring back hope.
maybe it's time to stop being a prisoner to this fear.
it will always be there, this familiar friend.
telling me all the reasons why i can't.
telling me all the reasons why i should run.
away from beauty. from truth. from grace. from love-ing.
"are you sure this is a risk you're willing to take?"
"are you sure you want to go back there?"
no, i don't want to go back there.
but i sure as hell am not staying here to rot.
i was created for life.
i am life.
i am joy.
i am light.

and it can just stay there, where it is, at it's allocated place.
and i'll just stay here at mine.
we may be at the same dinner party, but we're definitely not sitting on each other's laps.

(written on 9th Sep 2012)

sadness, unpublished

there are these moments when
beauty moves me crazily and i
feel like i could die that very second, because that's
the way
an end
should be,
happily ever after.

then
there are these moments when
sadness digs the deepest hole through the
center of everything and i
feel like i could die too in that very second, because that's
the way
an end
should never,
ever
be,
but there is no more road.

(written on 2nd feb 2013)

Monday, July 16, 2012

brave

to let go of that which never was in your hand

to remember that you will smile again; a smile is as much the effect of the mover as it is of the moved, the life force contained by both, uncontained

to sometimes harden a heart and double-take not, let your tears drip to the earth, let the wet trail be left only on the path behind your back

to love, again and again

a deep ache, a silent rage, oh god the fear, an abyss, dismal and dark

you are a brave thing, you are

you breathe out, you look down, you swallow, you walk

Thursday, May 03, 2012

floods

the raindrops beat heavy, crash, they crash against the concrete and the tar. of your heart. there is no fear, no fear that the sky will bleed itself dry for you. perfect love casts out all fear, love begets love, and the warmth of the sun will summon water into clouds again and cool the parched spirits of man once more. all are welcome.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

boats

and so there was this and there is that and all these little lost boats, they drift along. "what an astounding rock, what a perfect bay!" they drift along, on and on. they lost their anchors a long time ago, the sea swallowed them all. so they forever admired from afar, waiting, seeking, longing, leaving. always leaving, left.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

sweet surrender

summer sun has warmed these bones, back to autumn we return. and the unthinkable has happened, you are gone for good this time. i cannot look back, i will not look back. i loved you with a passion that consumed me until there was only you. how does anyone get to that point? which fool would allow that? surely not me! and yet i clung, and i clung, and i clung. i did not wish to hear of it, that love could die. how could love die? does anything not die? but then this must mean something, that i am free, it must mean something.

yes, it means that there is a greater love, and i will cling to that if i must cling onto something. i am finally free, like a slave released from the dungeons of an ancient ship, battered, bruised but free, and the warm sunlight hurts my eyes, i refuse to look. what is this? leave me amongst the ancients, i have battled and rowed this ship for five years, what is another seventy-two? i look in the mirror, my eyes shine no more, my dreams pound against my chest, what is another seventy-two? i will not stay a second longer. this greater love, it carries me on, it says lie still, it says rest, it says peace be with you, it says you are now safe, it says trust, it says all these beautiful things that are so difficult to understand, and the most perplexing, you are my beloved. and i surrender.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

thesis: brain apoptosis

so here we are. what a year it has been! and it hasn't even ended yet. right now, i can't afford to think about the past or the future. satori. this is what it means, huh? i can do this!

Saturday, September 24, 2011

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.

Sunday, September 04, 2011

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.