BORROWED WORDS
Rather than lose confidence, I sometimes fall into a slump. Coping with all that is taking place everyday and not being home as much as I used to, must have made me forget my identity of Louise the daughter. Is this what an identity crisis feels like? Or simply an awakening of years I've gained and the impending responsibilities as the only child?
POCKETFUL OF PUNCH (FIST)
A friend of mine might have just hit the nail on the head when she likened my personality to that of a hazelnut bar, Kinder Bueno. And while it might not be the most desirable inanimate object to be associated with, our attributes are admittedly similar - a hard exterior with mushy insides.
I sometimes ponder on how both qualities manage to co-exist; being both Heartless and Humane. Does this all mean that I have a split personality? Is this my warped interpretation of a "multi-faceted" lifestyle? How do the people around me cope with my idio(t)syncrasies?
I wonder...
DEEP SPRINGS
Youth is not a time of life, it is a state of mind. It is not a matter of red cheeks, red lips and supple knees. It is a temper of the will, a quality of the imagination; a vigour of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life. Nobody grows old by merely living a number of years, people grow old by deserting their ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.
QUIETLY
I suppose the only good thing about heartbreak is that it reinforces your sense of humanity. 'Heart' - because the pain is felt primarily in your chest, though perhaps not quite left of centre. 'Break' - because the feeling is one of damage, devastation even; one of something inside you fracturing or worse, shattering into a million irretrievable pieces. It can also feel like something inside you collapsing, imploding, leaving traces of nothing behind. Heartbreak can make you feel heavy, or strangely weightless, because there is a sensation that you have been drained of absolutely everything. Then there are tears, shed singly or in streams, quietly or in heaving sobs, and the fear, no matter how irrational, that the feeling may never go away.
No matter how irrational, that the feeling will never go away.
CARPE DIEM
Haven't had the time to take many pictures as of late, much less blog about them. But this one was taken while we were having our usual tatter-a-tatter about dreams, aspirations (and of course the obligatory bitching). Remembering the conversations we had when we were younger, watching them materialise, experiencing the satisfaction of growth. How times like these have etched reminders on my steel heart, and strengthened me not only with gusto but also the monstrousity to fight on. This one's a keeper, he's not only a friend, not a lover, not family. The guy right here, is a part of my past and present, my lifelong buddy!!
They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? --- Carpe --- hear it? --- Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.
They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? --- Carpe --- hear it? --- Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.
CREW CUT
Derived from a lengthy conversation over what seems to might have been Part 2 of lunch,
is that with standards come detachment. Which I will cover some other time... I hope.
My fridge broke down... no beer!!! Super shattered!
SKETCHY PAST
Swimming Pool, Leandro Erlich (Photo from akimbo)
My current obsessions, include Lucian Freud, Alex Daniel (very much like Egon Schiele!) and never forgetting my one love, Leandro Erlich.
DREAMSCAPE
Do I let my mind reign me in, only to realise later that my heart is hurting?
When regret consumes me... then what?
TWILIGHT
Found a scribbly piece of writing in an old notebook. I think I wrote this while I was alone at the reservoir last year:
I am looking at silhouettes of trees backlit by a neon orange glow. I twist my flanks, turn back, and look skywards. It is a bad excuse for pale lavender, with random splashes of white. Same sky, but why so many colours? Such amazing degrade. Makes me wonder if this is how a rainbow looks like up-close.
An ant is crawling up my neck. No, it is my imagination. Too many unidentifiable insects are taking flight around me. They want my attention. I want them to go away. I light up, to stop writing for a moment (and to make the insects leave). I want to watch the kaleidoscope above change colour.
*
I am looking at silhouettes of trees backlit by a neon orange glow. I twist my flanks, turn back, and look skywards. It is a bad excuse for pale lavender, with random splashes of white. Same sky, but why so many colours? Such amazing degrade. Makes me wonder if this is how a rainbow looks like up-close.
An ant is crawling up my neck. No, it is my imagination. Too many unidentifiable insects are taking flight around me. They want my attention. I want them to go away. I light up, to stop writing for a moment (and to make the insects leave). I want to watch the kaleidoscope above change colour.
*
It's been only five minutes but a grey blanket covers the earth around me. No more flies, but it is only a matter of time they return. Joggers hustle pass me and I am irritated. I want to sit in a pocket of isolation with nobody but twilight for companionship. Sadly it has been vacuumed towards the Sun, an orange hole that sits in the sky. I am going nowhere with this documentary, and I am clearly not putting my Creative Writing exercises to use. No rising action, no climax, just a useless exposition that has been going on for what seems to have been eternity. But I keep writing.
Streetlamps start lighting up to illuminate the impending darkness. The artificial quality of incandescence kills me. I refocus my field of vision to the body of water instead.
Animated shapes are emerging from the ripples in the water. Mushrooms, stars. The air is dense and moist, the grass smells like shit today. Silhouettes start materialising. The sound of my breathing is replaced by a symphony of crickets. Their cries interfere with my moment of solitude and proceed to slice the still air.
An ant crawls up my neck. This time I am not imagining. Eallie arrives and sits at my bench but we do not speak. I try to hear what she is thinking, but the crickets keep interrupting. I have been sitting cross-legged and I think they fell asleep. I stand up to make the blood flow back.
This could go on forever, but then it's time for class.
Streetlamps start lighting up to illuminate the impending darkness. The artificial quality of incandescence kills me. I refocus my field of vision to the body of water instead.
Animated shapes are emerging from the ripples in the water. Mushrooms, stars. The air is dense and moist, the grass smells like shit today. Silhouettes start materialising. The sound of my breathing is replaced by a symphony of crickets. Their cries interfere with my moment of solitude and proceed to slice the still air.
An ant crawls up my neck. This time I am not imagining. Eallie arrives and sits at my bench but we do not speak. I try to hear what she is thinking, but the crickets keep interrupting. I have been sitting cross-legged and I think they fell asleep. I stand up to make the blood flow back.
This could go on forever, but then it's time for class.
WEIGHT OF MY WORDS, LIKE A FEATHER. WEIGHT OF MY HEART... NOT SO.
I have just been awaken from some sort of a deep sleep, although I don't quite remember how or when I fell asleep. There is an impression of crumpled sheets on my left cheek, I study the pattern and make shapes out of it, until I realise the lines had already disappeared and I have just been imagining.
I remember the dream that I was having, too vividly. Bothers me.
In the dream, I was standing on a concrete pavement, before what was supposed to have been my home. The house is pink on the outside, with african violets in full bloom lacing the path that lead to the door. The exterior wasn't a stand-offish kind of pink, definitely not powder pink, more of a pale salmon pink that almost looked beige under the evening sun. I pulled the door open and entered the house. I cannot remember exactly if I could have actually smelt and heard coffee brewing in my dream, but I think so. Everything in the house looked pleasant and new. There was a heather-grey carpet in the lounge, the curtains swirled with shades of pink and white. Surprisingly I like the pink, it was comforting, almost restful.
I walked upstairs and was greeted by roses in terracotta pots lined by the wall. The colour of the cream wall and juicy pink roses seemed to compliment each other excellently. I whizzed past them and stepped into one of the rooms. There was nothing in this room except for an old sofa. No bed, no dresser. I drew the curtains to let in some light, then walked over to the sofa. It looked like it became a convenient place to wipe surplus paint off paintbrushes. I stop and wonder why I don't remember about my house, and that I must have stopped painting a long time ago, for the dried paint looked like it had been mingling with dust for quite some time. The only thing that was not clothed in dust was a camera, it was loaded with an almost unused roll of film. I looked through the viewfinder and gently pressed my finger against the shutter button. I liked hearing the flutter of the shutter, I do it again, snapping another picture of the blank wall. But only this time, I witness my own memories flashing through the viewfinder. Assorted memories that seemed like a grainy Alfred Hitchcock film projected on the empty wall before the lens. I was not feeling anything, I didn't know how to feel. Those memories never seemed to stop playing back. I wanted no more. Had I embroidered my memories? Perhaps the experience of one occasion has multipied into dozens of new memories, each developing a life of it's own.
I left the house, I wanted nothing to do with it. I kept moving now, only the homeless are left in their doorways, I am not homeless; just hopeless. I walk and walk and walk.
Right this moment, I woke up. My eyes stay shut, but I stare at the colours dancing around my head. I finally open my eyes and continue to stare into space. I think about me not thinking. There is a lightness inside me that makes me believe I could float if I tried hard enough. I like this non-thinking, this sensation of not being a part of myself.
There is an impression of crumpled sheets on my left cheek, I study the pattern and make shapes out of it, until I realise the lines had already disappeared and I have just been imagining.
TEAR MY HAIR OUT
Fashion has temporarily lost its sparkle for me, the charm of my job has come to a brief halt. This whole week I've been trying to keep my spirits up and to top it all off, I had a real awful day at work today. But by the time tomorrow is here, today will be history.
Chin up, fight on!!
Chin up, fight on!!
VIRGIN
Esoteric topics that we indulged in, and fallen head over heels for, like design concepts and the edge of the universe have disappeared from our discussions. Now it seems almost pretentious to even raise an obscure philosophical question. Pray tell, whatever has happened?
Has the Real World come as a shock and as a result stripping us of the dreams we used to have as children?
HEAR YE!
Thailand, I shall return with vengeance. And conquer all of Bangkok's sticky rice with my iron tum tum.
Just you wait, just you wait!
ISOLATE / INNOVATE
Day before yesterday when we were preparing for the F1 show in KL, Alex asked me if I felt like we were travelling troupe of fashion show people. How apt. Home feels weird now after being away for some time. Don't know if I seem like I am isolating myself but I just want to be alone.
GUTEN TAG!
I am never one to speak intensely about my inspirations, my experiences, my harvests. Rather, I let these memories manifest; they cause my heart to swell with ardor, such that I am reminded, to stay this young forever. If however, there is one thing I should say..
Berlin was pretty damn sickkkk.
搵到食♥
Words cannot express the copious amounts of sin I consume at nightime.
Dindins last night was (for the lack of better vocabulary) shiokalingams!!
FAREWELL SISTER, BREAK A LEG!
Nad Samat, one of The Best soulmates of all time.
Send me postcards as always, kiddo!
BEEFY DECADENCE
I'm spiralling into major food comatose just looking at these pictures.
I hope Saturday comes quickly before the perversity gets to me!
I hope Saturday comes quickly before the perversity gets to me!
RARE MOMENTS OF LUCIDITY
Our reverberating screams tore the fabric of night. But the rupture, left gaping as usual, healed a little faster this time. Only because we are in each others' company. Whether or not these sentiments are shared, I have found true friends in the people that I have been blessed to work with. And in return I will always, Always cherish them with all my heart.
WOW A PROPER DINNER?
Too lazy to upload birthday pictures so a picture of Addy (personifying tonight's dinner) will have to suffice. May I add that I have only one word to say to that kickass pot of broth? RESPECT BRUTHA.Oh wait. That's two words. What?!! I am no mathematician you know..
LUCID DREAM
Many secrets were shared this night, but more so the feelings of fragility and trust.The jugs portioned between us made everything blur out into a dream, but I remember exactly.
Whatever happens I've got your back, always.
15 MINUTES
This year I am so fortunate to have a new wonderful batch of friends to eat and laugh with; birthday or otherwise; in addition to the badass ones that I have already. Love, peace, rocknroll!!
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