talking of Michaelangelo.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
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implode! // 8:19 am
So. Much. Pressure. RAAAAAA.
Head below water....... overwhelmed!
I want to break something or rip something apart. I want to shatter glass plates. I want to release all tension and go RAAAAA.
Mostly, I want a smile that can melt rocks. (Yes, envious of a baby, great.)
NOTHING MAKES SENSE. RAAAAAA.
RAAA.
Friday, November 25, 2011
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half wake half sleep // 6:17 am
This nightmare of an existence.
Can the hurt end already?
I feel like someone drilled a hole right through me.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
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solitude // 7:36 am
Can you hear yourself?
Smart girl you think you can do this, but you're just giving yourself the heartache. why do you have to put yourself and this whole thing through this.
(He's going to tire of it and of you.)
It hurts so much and ... sourness.
You're a coward. What's wrong with you anyway?
There's nothing to run from and you're running.
There were people in the ocean, even today.
- - -
Much of the good of a story is not in its substance but rather in its execution. Sometimes, it may not necessarily be the words that churns or spurs the emotional.
Throw out some useless dialogue. Read the script and see what really matters. Every word and also
every silence should be full. That's what makes a good story. The silences. The show of solitude. Aloneness in a chaotic world.
So in the quiet all the psychological, all the acting with eyes, with the body comes out. Music is good too.
Words, step aside.
- - -
What's the matter with you today?
It will pass, no? It will pass.
- - -
They say the mosquitoes here are the size of horses.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
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close your eyes // 12:58 pm
And feel the music. Feel the voice.
Oh my goodness, even ugly men who can sing well automatically... wow. I don't even know why that is. Something about the magnetism in voices.
So attracted...
Monday, November 21, 2011
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beauty // 9:59 am
Tadpoles are so beautiful,
especially in growth.
Something I hadn't thought I would think beautiful.
-
the guess tree // 8:04 am
"Take a guess."
Just plant some.
When you're in their world, you belong with them. They welcome you into their realm and they'll protect you even though you're simply just a stranger, a visitor. They'll chastise you for your own good. They'll teach you like you're their own.
口硬心軟, 話唔教唔教...
但見我揦手唔成勢, 亂晒龍,
都忍唔住幫我, 激勵我... 激將法...
實在太感激太感激
Getting better with each row, but also regressing a little with each row. It's a huge learning process. And I just realized, I'm doing exactly what Joan had told us to do - to never stop being learners.
Plant some guesses
and you can take them.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
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love music, love life // 8:06 am
Largo 2nd Movement (Dvorak), says The Michael.
I remember those days.
The cello is the sexiest instrument. Ever.
The sound quality, the look... mm.
Music lifts me.
[Not posted when it was written.]
Sunday, November 13, 2011
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so when did you grow up? // 8:08 pm
Living/lived in adversity, the type I can't even imagine.
And she still makes the most delicious brownie.
Bright eyed girl (no, a woman now, but I still see the girl), brown hair catching light. Smart and charming (but not as charming as the woman she thinks she sees in the mirror). She asks me "So when do you feel like you grew up?" My answer, "Never and never will." But when I ask her, I see the sadness. "It's good to feel like you never grow up, it means you're always loved by everyone."
They prayed for her. "Dead", she'd thought.
She finds life in books, inspiration in music, release in painting, sensuality in cooking. A gem - she is. Hidden in rubble, but unafraid to shine. Holds grudges passionately. Speaks her mind genuinely. She reads and lives other lives. She flows. She gives and gives, shares and shares never asking for anything back. And she's strong. The more adversity, insecurity, the stronger, the more fiercely she fights, she conquers, the more she laughs and cries.
Admiration and honour to have found her. I want to be just like her. Unafraid to live the way she wants to, her own way. She doesn't cling onto anything.
Left with merely an old chair and a television she didn't want,
and from this, she built a life, something she's proud to call her own.
Her
very own.
She was afraid to wash her windows,
just as I was afraid to walk by the lake.
She knows about the rocks.
And she is still afraid sometimes.
Solitude but not loneliness.
Growing up, a different perspective.
She makes me see things.
So when did I grow up? (Or did I?)
Why or why not?
This year feels/felt so different.
Learning curve, a vertical steep. Steep.
Time to forget birthdays and turning old.
Feels so different from last year.
Going home to something different now.
Going (up or) down and into the mind with a different view.
You are not alone, but you are so, so alone.
You go away and you come back anew.
Your lenses foggy, greased and cleaned, greased but cleaned.
"I just want intelligent conversation."
You eat, you drink (a lot). You live, you grow. You come back.
Do you feel older and wiser this year? I don't know.
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
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more than I can say // 7:52 pm
... ukulele and rainy days are a match made in heaven!
:) new song in repertoire.
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
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multi-sensory art gallery // 8:27 pm
Surrounded by windows, watching the rain slowly whipping against the front of the bus. Slow moving, the image of the bigger becomes framed by three sides and panes. Slanted streaks, diagonal distortion of images ahead. Images stretched and pulled down with invisible fingers, blurred by a watery photoshop brush. Textured. The ends of rain streaks are jellyfish tentacles spotted with drops of light. Transparent freckles.
The ocean is gray, endless and without identity. Merely a mirror of the sky. Churning, turbulent, searching, asking for an identity -- does not run softly at all. Restless, lapping, lapping.
The smell of the rain brings me back to places I have not been in a long time. They are places where I have moaned about the rain, about the gray of the rain. But instead, now I find myself wanting to feel it again. We are never really content when we have what we have and yet later on... we remember it and want it again when we had let it slipped away before with complaints and annoyance.
Somebody brought my attention to the smell of a flowering tree. It was faint and mostly washed away with the smell of the rain... but mixed with it, I felt...
Monday, November 07, 2011
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every day is yesterday // 8:18 am
What a terrific start to the day, said sarcastically. Thanks, gaping rip at the hem of trousers.
It seems as though I've forgotten, but I haven't. This line keeps coming to me this year ...
We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world. I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas, I've seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them... but you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it... ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love... And it is not an idea that I miss, it is a man... A man that made me remember the fifth of November… a man that I will never forget.Ohh, Tablo's comeback...so good. Taeyang/Tablo collab makes it BAM. Still missing/waiting for the epik high to come back together again though.
"...let me breathe."
(Not posted at the time it was written.)
Saturday, November 05, 2011
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chance of precipitation // 11:02 pm
Red velvet kisses,
banana peach tea kisses,
grateful kisses,
sorry kisses.
"Never enough."
I don't think I said thank you enough.
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
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scavenging // 3:41 pm
...for awesome food places!
I realized I can expand my budget and try out ALL THE GREAT FOOD IN THE AREA. I'm maxed out excited right now.
Maybe I'll start posting food schedules and plans... maybe I should start a food blog! I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO START A FOOD BLOG. (If interested in an awesome food blog please check out Dani's).
[This post could not be posted during the time it was written due to the fact that it was written at a place where blogger could not publish. Anyway, here it is anyway, with the date it was written on.]
