Being a writer is better than being an actor, because in a film you only get to be one person, while an author is in everyone's shoes all at once, and leaves his imprints from memory- of his childhood, his regrets replayed, his secret triumphs - leaves his finger and footprints scattered everywhere. He is present in the main character's defiance of circumstance, he is a little of the stubbornness in the grandfather, he is tempted as the neighbour's wife succumbs, he is isolated in the prism of the spinster's imagined wedding ring. In the little you find yourself, because you are, despite the cohered front, composed of many small parts; each bit struggling to define itself, stuttering in the difficulty of doing so, flapping and floundering on the dry beach like a transparent jellyfish which reflects the nudity of the sand it is stranded upon.
A writer alone sees himself in everyone, while everyone sees an actor who is not himself.
/do you agree?
Friday, March 30, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
twenty
hotties!
oh so pretty!
wohwohgirls minus gerry n ruth.
i just realised this is the only pic i have of ahlee tonight! haha, ahlee you better stop hogging the photos and send it to us NOW!
bleh you!
my favourite dramamama!
you look familiar...
aHHHH!! my entry just got wiped out!!!! im devastated!!!
shall i retype?? omg. it was super long somemore!!
:( :( alright, for the wohwohgirls, i shall.
my msn status is on busy now. here goes...
---
We arrived at Kenny Rogers at Marina Square. The wohwohgirls planned a series of Felicia The... Games. Felicia the Geek, Architect and Shopaholic (I protest!?) First up was "Felicia the Geek", where i had to challenge Amanda Lee to a sudoku game. Abit of history for the under-informed, i was called the geek after the India Mission trip, just cos i was gazing at stars! and okay lah, maybe cos i was wearing my specs.. and.. maybe because i was still staring when everyone had walked off.. but not very geeky right!? haha.
-
anyhow, coincidentally of course, the ever fair and impartial gamemaster Zhonyun gave me the Medium level puzzle and AhLee got the Easy puzzle. And also.. for the sake of universal fairness Cherie and Edlyn got to help ahlee while Zhonyun's role in the game was primarily my distractor. Still, despite the overriding odds, I won the game! muahahaha. this proves the idiom, three heads are not better than one. or did i make that up. perhaps it didnt help that Edlyn gave them rather confusing instructions, like "The diagonals across must have only the numbers 1 to 9!" hahaha.
the winning sudoku puzzle! yay!
The next game was Felicia the Architect. Jac and I had to build houses which were creative and sustainable like responsible earth-loving architects out of Lego. So right there in the middle of Kenny Rogers we made such a din and shamed ourselves as red as our new crimson Novo shoes. hahaha. but i guess we're all used to each other's company [p.s. AhLee, when ordering, told the stricken waiter that she wanted "Kenny Rogers." almost died laughing. WHO was she thinking of then, i wonder.] zhon commentated and later dropped the lego on the table from a height of 10.0cm to test its "sustainability". Jac won! But i got the lego anyway, for additional practice. I'll be back next year!! *feverish lego building*
-
Finally, there was Felicia the Shopaholic (which i protest.) I was made to play paper dolls- memorise the given outfits and try to piece them blouses and skirts and belts and jackets together in the right order. Zhonyun's mighty idea of course, who else. Quite creative la. i give you one point.
-
and i thought that was the end, but no.. the surprise actually worked this year!! haha. Jac lured me away to Novo to change the shoe size for cherie, and the rest sneaked off along the way without me knowing. Later on Jac passed me the clue to get to Esplanade's Sky Terrace where i was made to change into my white prom dress. All of them changed into dresses like they were bridesmaids, and Zhonyun was the priestess (who else?! haha) holding up a bible. "I declare today, that its your 20th birthday!" [err, oh ya. Amanda Lee was in a blazer playing the groom. that was kinda disturbing but okay la, i give you one point for effort. hahahaa.]
-
So well, a twentieth birthday i'll surely remember. Thank you, even though there wasnt hockey pockey (thank goodness), and the blind date with Angel's indonesian friend! omg. thank goodness that didnt take place. i would have sunk into the ground and died a million deaths. you cant be that cruel!
-
neo wins the Most Creative Card of the year! Remember my msn nick, 'Cute things are almost always useless?' Well, the Pick Flower travelled a long way all the way from Aussie to try to prove that 'Something cute, something practical' still remains.
BUT BUT BUT, the moment the pick begins to be useful, it ceases to be a flower! Ie., it is only when it ceases to be cute that it can begin to be practical. Ah, the irreconciliable imbalance between function and form!
- okay la, one point for the cuteness.
one piece of goodnews: i'm going to Korea on 24 may! :) wheeeee!
another! : the best chocolate cake ever is from chocz (where else!) mmm heavenly.
amanda heng, amanda lee, cherie, zhonyun, edlyn, jacjac. i love you to bits! you make my day! (many days, anyday.)
thanks luke for the card! good thing the bike still brought you home, far from the evil clutches of Mr. Clothed in His Underpants. :)
Monday, March 19, 2007
stutterings of the feeble
notes to self
1. quit moping around.
2. lose that fever and flu.
3. get thinking about your design.
4. do Qt.
5. plan your time well.
6. take a rest and abandon those plans.
7. since im emotionally unexpressive, might as well be emotionally uninvolved. haha. if only.
8. take funny and quizzical quizzes like www.handwritingwizard.com 's handwriting analysis test which illuminates your soul. ...nah. but it is a good laugh.
i'm aching all over! okay... . didnt mean to break rule number one. captain's ball was quite fun la, our team was easy going and could talk to everyone comfortably. if only people didnt start deserting halfway... ya anyhow, today i managed to skip 4 hour design studio class because i was feeling horrible. fever, blocked nose sore throat muscle aches the whole works. haha. which was a blessing in disguise i guess. got to sleep in the afternoon for three hours before getting started on some work. this work cycle doesnt ever end you know! even the holidays get cluttered up with alot of :to do's:. i already have a mental list of what stuff i wanna do in the 3 month break. its like a taste of heaven! or the seventh day - REST.
oh ya. one day i was in the shower it suddenly dawned on me (think cheesy spotlight) that stutterglue has a reason, despite its seeming madness. or Dadaism. i used to think there was a box around me, like a glass ceiling or some form of limitation. that was up til 2 years ago, and the box was my fear of speaking publicly hahaha. sounds stupid now, but true. whenever we needed to do a presentation i'd just get a mental block and words came slow. that's sort of like stuttering right? the inability to articulate. but still there were a lot of thoughts, and consequently alot of words, which were then channeled into the medium of writing in belated expression. so i guess this blog is a sort of glue which holds all the sealed-up and swallowed, stifled and smothered- stutters together in a way which allows them to be understood.
now i think im out of the box, i dont know how, but i think it's something to do with a new realisation of who God is and who i am in him. something to do with dpf and my time in india, my mission trip in china, memories of fbic, and a general growing up.
right. enough said.
p.s. to sini, lewina, xuezhen and all fellow aki friends, don't let it kill you. live! rooting for you.
1. quit moping around.
2. lose that fever and flu.
3. get thinking about your design.
4. do Qt.
5. plan your time well.
6. take a rest and abandon those plans.
7. since im emotionally unexpressive, might as well be emotionally uninvolved. haha. if only.
8. take funny and quizzical quizzes like www.handwritingwizard.com 's handwriting analysis test which illuminates your soul. ...nah. but it is a good laugh.
i'm aching all over! okay... . didnt mean to break rule number one. captain's ball was quite fun la, our team was easy going and could talk to everyone comfortably. if only people didnt start deserting halfway... ya anyhow, today i managed to skip 4 hour design studio class because i was feeling horrible. fever, blocked nose sore throat muscle aches the whole works. haha. which was a blessing in disguise i guess. got to sleep in the afternoon for three hours before getting started on some work. this work cycle doesnt ever end you know! even the holidays get cluttered up with alot of :to do's:. i already have a mental list of what stuff i wanna do in the 3 month break. its like a taste of heaven! or the seventh day - REST.
oh ya. one day i was in the shower it suddenly dawned on me (think cheesy spotlight) that stutterglue has a reason, despite its seeming madness. or Dadaism. i used to think there was a box around me, like a glass ceiling or some form of limitation. that was up til 2 years ago, and the box was my fear of speaking publicly hahaha. sounds stupid now, but true. whenever we needed to do a presentation i'd just get a mental block and words came slow. that's sort of like stuttering right? the inability to articulate. but still there were a lot of thoughts, and consequently alot of words, which were then channeled into the medium of writing in belated expression. so i guess this blog is a sort of glue which holds all the sealed-up and swallowed, stifled and smothered- stutters together in a way which allows them to be understood.
now i think im out of the box, i dont know how, but i think it's something to do with a new realisation of who God is and who i am in him. something to do with dpf and my time in india, my mission trip in china, memories of fbic, and a general growing up.
right. enough said.
p.s. to sini, lewina, xuezhen and all fellow aki friends, don't let it kill you. live! rooting for you.
only one question remains,
what are you thinking?
Sunday, March 18, 2007
'scaryness' is just an excuse. if we're not close we're not close la, there's nothing wrong with that. but to suggest that i am the cause of it just eschews the fact that friendship is two ways. and to tell u the truth, i'm tired. i dunno when to call some true friends. no matter how many times i tell myself not to let it bother me, those labels, they come back time and time again, they're thrown at me as though its always my fault. believe what you want to believe. unfriendly, callous, intimidating, whatever.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
why you so like that?
14/15march: the non-divide.
10:25pm - started making sketches for A1 panels due the next day.
12:30pm- family switches off tv. in the hall, go to bed
2:30am- only me and my music to keep each other alive.
3:30am- amazed i am still drafting and not sleeping and drooling over my work.
start on model making.
4:40am- mum wakes to use the toilet. exclaims, "licia! you still not sleeping? better go and rest. not good for your body you know!" i brush her off by being quite unfriendly because i didnt particularly feel like talking at that time. said its okay, everytime its submission i dont sleep.
5:30am- mum nags at me to sleep again. i am a little irritated because i am rushing like crazy to finish the model (which is taking so long to do) and finish the drafting of the panels at the same time. my body screams sleep but i am silencing the thought of it. and now i hear it audible.
6:45am- i look at the clock. tell myself to finish model by 7am sharp, and get started on my 2nd panel! calculate that i have 3.5 hours before i must get myself to school for a presentation.
7:10am- dad wakes and says, 'you didn't sleep the whole night ah!' gives me cup of water and insists that i finish it at one go. have been cutting and sticking the model together for around three hours, and its still not done.
10:15am- filled up 3/4 of my 2nd panel. legs feel weak and shakey. face looks strange in the mirror. like gray wool. its like that everytime you go without sleep for one night, your skin gets it worst. ( i go to school and can instantly spot those who didnt sleep. they look strange, too. like something about their faces- colour, proportion? i dont get it- is wrong. )
10:37- rushed onto shuttle bus toward school for presentation.
8pm- crit finally ends. i keep dozing off. but its time for dinner and i went with sini, chongji and hazwan to the clementi jap place. then, i never felt more awake. haha.
11pm- slept til 11am the next day. glorious sleep! the deprived come to prodigal awareness.
10:25pm - started making sketches for A1 panels due the next day.
12:30pm- family switches off tv. in the hall, go to bed
2:30am- only me and my music to keep each other alive.
3:30am- amazed i am still drafting and not sleeping and drooling over my work.
start on model making.
4:40am- mum wakes to use the toilet. exclaims, "licia! you still not sleeping? better go and rest. not good for your body you know!" i brush her off by being quite unfriendly because i didnt particularly feel like talking at that time. said its okay, everytime its submission i dont sleep.
5:30am- mum nags at me to sleep again. i am a little irritated because i am rushing like crazy to finish the model (which is taking so long to do) and finish the drafting of the panels at the same time. my body screams sleep but i am silencing the thought of it. and now i hear it audible.
6:45am- i look at the clock. tell myself to finish model by 7am sharp, and get started on my 2nd panel! calculate that i have 3.5 hours before i must get myself to school for a presentation.
7:10am- dad wakes and says, 'you didn't sleep the whole night ah!' gives me cup of water and insists that i finish it at one go. have been cutting and sticking the model together for around three hours, and its still not done.
10:15am- filled up 3/4 of my 2nd panel. legs feel weak and shakey. face looks strange in the mirror. like gray wool. its like that everytime you go without sleep for one night, your skin gets it worst. ( i go to school and can instantly spot those who didnt sleep. they look strange, too. like something about their faces- colour, proportion? i dont get it- is wrong. )
10:37- rushed onto shuttle bus toward school for presentation.
8pm- crit finally ends. i keep dozing off. but its time for dinner and i went with sini, chongji and hazwan to the clementi jap place. then, i never felt more awake. haha.
11pm- slept til 11am the next day. glorious sleep! the deprived come to prodigal awareness.
--
i must add that the crit went better than i expected :) thank God. i miss kahwee, our past sem tutor. he makes so much sense and isnt boring or naggy or slouchy like you-know-who.take your place. i need you. i cant last it out.
Monday, March 12, 2007
solid hope
"Cursed is the man who trusts in man, who depends on flesh for his strength,
and whose heart turns away from the Lord.
...But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him.
He will be like a tree planted by the water, that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green, it has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit."
Jeremiah 17:5, 7-8
when all else fails, and people disappoint, and everything that surrounds falls into pieces, thank you that i can still hold to You.
"trust in the Lord with ALL your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight."
proverbs 3:5-6
i'm holding tight to your words, Lord. it's all i can hold on to now, its all that holds me together.
how many times have i tried to make it on my own and failed? ah, it is too tiresome, the attempts. i'm letting go.
and whose heart turns away from the Lord.
...But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him.
He will be like a tree planted by the water, that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green, it has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit."
Jeremiah 17:5, 7-8
when all else fails, and people disappoint, and everything that surrounds falls into pieces, thank you that i can still hold to You.
"trust in the Lord with ALL your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight."
proverbs 3:5-6
i'm holding tight to your words, Lord. it's all i can hold on to now, its all that holds me together.
how many times have i tried to make it on my own and failed? ah, it is too tiresome, the attempts. i'm letting go.
unveil me
was walking to paul's house this morning for cell, and saw something kinda beautiful. the underside of the parapets against a pristine sky.
its supposed to be a boat station, it narrows down toward the end and the roof slopes down/ compressed before one steps off the edge/ before the sliver of marina bay looms into a full picture/ the mediating curtain is unveiled
the inside of the model. pity the shadows look so faint here.
its supposed to be a boat station, it narrows down toward the end and the roof slopes down/ compressed before one steps off the edge/ before the sliver of marina bay looms into a full picture/ the mediating curtain is unveiledwelcome cherie to my blog! ahah. anyway, i have no idea why i blog so often now. alot of things running through me i guess? things new and old, exciting and mundane. i've school from 12-6 tmr with no break in between, so figures i should go sleep soon.
*Wohwoh Announcement!* Let's meet up on the 25th march, sunday, after leaders' meeting for mass birthday celebration. haha. :)
*Wohwoh Announcement!* Let's meet up on the 25th march, sunday, after leaders' meeting for mass birthday celebration. haha. :)
Sunday, March 11, 2007
only one of you
my 223rd post. :) in the mundane we find meaning, not because of what we do, but what it does to us.
things to do this weekend:
- make model for monday/ drawings
- read sonic reading for tuesday
- create final project proposal for tuesday
- think about mailbox- drawings?
- readings for history module by monday
- confirm songs for worship this week
things to remember:
- print hot address list for sharmaine> can go her party on thurs?
- print hotcakes for nat
- bring brown bag for yuting
- bring white dress for qing
- bring organiser for xuezhen
how did i get so chopped up and multifarious?
the better of three parts,
all i have heart for.
but nobody knows.
things to do this weekend:
- make model for monday/ drawings
- read sonic reading for tuesday
- create final project proposal for tuesday
- think about mailbox- drawings?
- readings for history module by monday
- confirm songs for worship this week
things to remember:
- print hot address list for sharmaine> can go her party on thurs?
- print hotcakes for nat
- bring brown bag for yuting
- bring white dress for qing
- bring organiser for xuezhen
how did i get so chopped up and multifarious?
the better of three parts,
all i have heart for.
but nobody knows.
Friday, March 09, 2007
lovely chinese!
那时我们总有好多话
什么时都可以讲
我的爱情比你早
却一直放在心上
后来你们之间的变化
我不想在多说话
经过了相遇,争扎
我还是无法将他放下
那是多久后的事了
有一天你突然问我
在那个时后
是否也爱着他？
我也很想他.我们都一样
在他的身上曾找到翅膀
只是那时的他
是因为你才开时飞翔
我也很想他.在莫个地方
我少了尴尬你少了肩膀
而夏天还是那么短
思念却很长
还记得
那年我们三个许下的愿望
星星骗了我们
我们却因此上了一课
成长必修的学风
我们都一样
so proud of myself! the most productive thing i did today was downloading that chinese applet which allows me to type chinese :) this song is called 我也很想他. wheee! i am effectively bilingual. hahaha. all of you with rusting chinese brains like me can have a regular dose here then :)
有时等了太久就会告诉自己放手.是因为害怕，
因为厌倦,而想自卫, 脱离等待郁闷的陷阱.
i have a test tmr, plus essay due tmr. but the essay's done at least :) ah you know, whenever im up to my neck in work, i have my methods of release. (or distraction) hehe. this is just another form:
什么时都可以讲
我的爱情比你早
却一直放在心上
后来你们之间的变化
我不想在多说话
经过了相遇,争扎
我还是无法将他放下
那是多久后的事了
有一天你突然问我
在那个时后
是否也爱着他？
我也很想他.我们都一样
在他的身上曾找到翅膀
只是那时的他
是因为你才开时飞翔
我也很想他.在莫个地方
我少了尴尬你少了肩膀
而夏天还是那么短
思念却很长
还记得
那年我们三个许下的愿望
星星骗了我们
我们却因此上了一课
成长必修的学风
我们都一样
so proud of myself! the most productive thing i did today was downloading that chinese applet which allows me to type chinese :) this song is called 我也很想他. wheee! i am effectively bilingual. hahaha. all of you with rusting chinese brains like me can have a regular dose here then :)
有时等了太久就会告诉自己放手.是因为害怕，
因为厌倦,而想自卫, 脱离等待郁闷的陷阱.
i have a test tmr, plus essay due tmr. but the essay's done at least :) ah you know, whenever im up to my neck in work, i have my methods of release. (or distraction) hehe. this is just another form:
hair therapy! thats 2 inches. looks scary i know. hair that's not connected to head just has that disjointed dolly effect. we have been trained well by hollywood/ju on/sadako/pontianak shows. hahaa. goodnight, everybody! im gonna study about the cochlea and sound reverberations in pitch-time grids and kulbin's svobodnaya musica. yadayada.
*just HAD to edit. there were 3 chinese mistakes! gasp. did you notice them?? haha. mingyong did.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
speaking of Birth!
one of the best pics i have of my folks :)
daryl's bday yesterday! he crawled into my room and slumped on the floor like liquid and told me about the bug under my bed that was carrying a strand of hair. [honest!] i was sitting on the floor making his card so i said, "eh. i making your card la go out first can?" he went back to his room. good boy.
then i went into his room, "eh daryl, do you have glue?
"check my bag, the bottom"
"okay, thanks."
before the glue fully dried.. [it took too long!] back to his room:
"..happy birthday!"
thank you.
daryl's bday card using daryl's glue :) so fun.
happy birthday, brother.
death and its celebrations
there is always something selfish about death. i realise that i do love chinese pomp and celebration and ceremony -the gaudyness of it i tolerate- because it is primarily focused on relationships between people. and that is always a good thing. i like the chinese new year visiting customs, the angbaos of course, n sometimes even the redundant orange swapping exercise. mooncake festival i LOVE. the lanterns and mooncakes and moon. dumpling festival is always an excuse to eat. but the only, only ceremony that betrays it all is the ceremony of death. i may sound harsh to say this, but the idea of hiring mourners to make the loudest noise so that it appears that the deceased is grieved is just a mockery. a mockery of human emotion, a mockery of sincerity, a mockery of death? Grief, at its most fundamental, is always solitary. It is steeped in silence, in an attempt to shut out pretensions, yet it is inwardly clamorous, because the voices of the past clatter to be heard and relived.
-
this is what i wrote during my great grandmother's funeral, on a torn scrap of newspaper. i sat in one of those red plastic chairs, at the white plastic covered tables, and scribbled hard. it is long, because there were many words screaming to be heard amidst the dead silence, words which writing express best when speech fails me.
"Funerals are a corporate waiting. Every one is waiting for something to happen, someone to do something oher than what everyone is doing, someone to start talking, someone to dish out the poker cards or do what we are supposed to do at funerals. Reminisce about the past and the person? But reminiscence is a thread that links the present to the past, so what do you do if the past did not exist, and there is nothing for the thread to hang to? The bitter thing, the ironic thing, the strange thing is, i guess, I do not know her. I never did.
No one even tries to look pitiful anymore; it is tiring to keep up appearances. We stare blankly with a diluted smile reigning on our lips, a contorted show of interest, or at least non-indifference.
...the funeral troopers marched in gaudy and pompous, white shining uniforms with red-laced hems and bouncing black cowboy hat with pink fluffed edges. they made a din. A din that sounded more celebratory than disconsolate.
A funeral lasts so long, too long. In its entirety of three sleepless days, that no one could have the energy to cry or mourn, much less publicly and outwardly, even if it was genuine. i feel like a cheat, along with the rest of my relatives, for making such a din of mourning when i am empty inside with nothing to show, empty of emotion, empty of memories of her, empty of affections towards those seated in the red chairs around me.
"i miss you, even though i do not know you. i am sure i would miss you if i did."
the funeral band is as bored of us as we are of them. all of us are sweating ceaselessly, and as noise permeates and squeezes into our consciousness it only gets warmer. The band leader puffs on his glossy tobacco pipe, the band members in their space trooper uniforms look distracted, the lopsided smiles of the shocking pink-and-yellow clad band girls all whisper in thundering tones: This is a Farce. The cherry on top of the cake are the funeral cheerleader girls in mini-skirts, cheering on the dead at the expense of the cringing living."
---
death aside though, i am not depressed. in fact these days i have been feeling quite blessed. :) its just that i dug up the torn newspaper scrap from that time. it is a fine line between fiction and reality. writers exploit that subtle divide.
-
this is what i wrote during my great grandmother's funeral, on a torn scrap of newspaper. i sat in one of those red plastic chairs, at the white plastic covered tables, and scribbled hard. it is long, because there were many words screaming to be heard amidst the dead silence, words which writing express best when speech fails me.
"Funerals are a corporate waiting. Every one is waiting for something to happen, someone to do something oher than what everyone is doing, someone to start talking, someone to dish out the poker cards or do what we are supposed to do at funerals. Reminisce about the past and the person? But reminiscence is a thread that links the present to the past, so what do you do if the past did not exist, and there is nothing for the thread to hang to? The bitter thing, the ironic thing, the strange thing is, i guess, I do not know her. I never did.
No one even tries to look pitiful anymore; it is tiring to keep up appearances. We stare blankly with a diluted smile reigning on our lips, a contorted show of interest, or at least non-indifference.
...the funeral troopers marched in gaudy and pompous, white shining uniforms with red-laced hems and bouncing black cowboy hat with pink fluffed edges. they made a din. A din that sounded more celebratory than disconsolate.
A funeral lasts so long, too long. In its entirety of three sleepless days, that no one could have the energy to cry or mourn, much less publicly and outwardly, even if it was genuine. i feel like a cheat, along with the rest of my relatives, for making such a din of mourning when i am empty inside with nothing to show, empty of emotion, empty of memories of her, empty of affections towards those seated in the red chairs around me.
"i miss you, even though i do not know you. i am sure i would miss you if i did."
the funeral band is as bored of us as we are of them. all of us are sweating ceaselessly, and as noise permeates and squeezes into our consciousness it only gets warmer. The band leader puffs on his glossy tobacco pipe, the band members in their space trooper uniforms look distracted, the lopsided smiles of the shocking pink-and-yellow clad band girls all whisper in thundering tones: This is a Farce. The cherry on top of the cake are the funeral cheerleader girls in mini-skirts, cheering on the dead at the expense of the cringing living."
---
death aside though, i am not depressed. in fact these days i have been feeling quite blessed. :) its just that i dug up the torn newspaper scrap from that time. it is a fine line between fiction and reality. writers exploit that subtle divide.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
(un)blinken box
unblinken lights like mute boxes
each pause is a stab.
anticipating what lies within the box,
fingering the wrapping paper,
the ribbon mesh with its crinked curl-
like something cringing to the touch.
but afraid too,
too afraid to lift the cover
because pregnant hopes may in an instant miscarry,
and what i hoped to see inside
will be frozen in a half-catharsis
of nothing.
hints can't hurt
and truth, apart from being a thing to hold,
is a thing to blurt.
---
okay i repent. feb 20th, beng went back to australia, and is missed.
happy birthday sheila! 3 march. :) We Want You for captain's ball!
5th march, is daryl's bday. i got him a black striped tee but of course, im posting it here cos i dont think he reads this blog. how convenient :) [even if you do pretend you dont. its the Code of Honourable Siblingry.]
the weekend! ahh. please dont let it rain. it can rain through monday and make it blurry and depressing as mondays always are but not the weekend!!
each pause is a stab.
anticipating what lies within the box,
fingering the wrapping paper,
the ribbon mesh with its crinked curl-
like something cringing to the touch.
but afraid too,
too afraid to lift the cover
because pregnant hopes may in an instant miscarry,
and what i hoped to see inside
will be frozen in a half-catharsis
of nothing.
hints can't hurt
and truth, apart from being a thing to hold,
is a thing to blurt.
---
okay i repent. feb 20th, beng went back to australia, and is missed.
happy birthday sheila! 3 march. :) We Want You for captain's ball!
5th march, is daryl's bday. i got him a black striped tee but of course, im posting it here cos i dont think he reads this blog. how convenient :) [even if you do pretend you dont. its the Code of Honourable Siblingry.]
the weekend! ahh. please dont let it rain. it can rain through monday and make it blurry and depressing as mondays always are but not the weekend!!
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