blu dreams

rest in peace

2012-02-13T11:16:00.002+08:00

Yes, I'm saving all my love for you...

I hope life treats you kind
And I hope you have all you've dreamed of.
And I wish to you, joy and happiness.
But above all this, I wish you love.

And I will always love you.

Then, a lesser known duet,
but my favourite:

Many nights we prayed
With no proof anyone could hear
In our hearts a hope for a song
We barely understood

Now we are not afraid
Although we know there's much to fear
We were moving mountains
Long before we knew we could, whoa, yes

There can be miracles
When you believe
Though hope is frail
It's hard to kill

Who knows what miracles
You can achieve
When you believe somehow you will
You will when you believe

In this time of fear
When prayer so often proves in vain
Hope seems like the summer bird
Too swiftly flown away

Yet now I'm standing here
My hearts so full, I can't explain
Seeking faith and speakin words
I never thought I'd say
There can be miracles
When you believe (When you believe)
Though hope is frail
It's hard to kill (Mmm)
Who knows what miracles
You can achieve (You can achieve)
When you believe somehow you will
You will when you believe

They don't always happen when you ask
And it's easy to give in to your fears
But when you're blinded by your pain
Can't see the way, get through the rain
A small but still, resilient voice
Says love is very near, oh [Oh]

There can be miracles
When you believe
Though hope is frail
It's hard to kill
Who knows what miracles
You can achieve
When you believe somehow you will
Somehow you will
You will when you believe

- - -

Goodbye Miss W. Houston.

"Thanks for gracing the world with your beautiful voice."

agitated

2012-02-11T17:48:00.000+08:00

God damn it, I need a cupcake really badly.

2012-02-11T16:26:00.000+08:00

This hurts so much. Make it stop.

a strange vision

2012-02-11T16:10:00.001+08:00

Standing in line, waiting for Asian fast food, I suddenly felt nauseous. In the labyrinth of malls - my neighbourhood - I saw a strange vision and felt a shocking apprehension come upon me. I saw the tiles and the bridge to the other mall cave into a hole right where I was standing. The structure collapsed, Roland Emmerich style, though I've never even seen any of his films in their entirety. I saw myself falling through the hole, then clinging to one of pieces of jutting out rubble, the side of the hole and the people around me just watching, none of them affected, Not exactly jeering at my predicament, just staring at me curiously. My pleas for help didn't seem to awaken their, shall I call it... daze?

I felt sick and thought of other things. A nightmare in broad daylight.

I wish to

2012-02-10T15:43:00.007+08:00

... disappear, be swallowed by a hole which swallows my fear of disappointing people, fear of leaving people behind, fear of fear itself. I wish this hole will eat my bad conscience and embarrassment and shame too. I wish this hole will make me void, non-existent. I wish this hole can make people forget me, not hurt because of me. I hope my past can disappear with my future and I can become a nothing and be free. Free of so many inhibitions.

I saw some birds flying, no, gliding, in the air today. They were not flying. They were not light or free like we think they are. all they're doing is sitting on palpable air, letting the wind take them. They're confined by their time, by their space, even though their space is vast, they are still bound by it. They are bound by their movement. Merely floating on something hard something that pushes them up, rather that lifts them. And they do not fly. They merely move that way because they were meant to move that way only.

And so this is how we live and move and die. We are just things pushed, things pulled, moved by things not by our will. We are inhibited, we are here just to die, just to breathe because breath was thrust upon us.

tidbits

2012-02-08T10:38:00.004+08:00

I miss my warm fluffies at home. My feet are cold.

Aerobics was a lot more fun that I thought it was?

It felt invigorating to be moving.

I eat airplane food for lunch every day. Literally.

sharp reminders

2012-02-06T08:34:00.003+08:00

Hello darkness, my old friend,

I've come to talk with you again,

Because a vision softly creeping,

Left its seeds while I was sleeping,

And the vision that was planted in my brain

Still remains

Within the sound of silence.

Taxes and mortality.

Woke up feeling cold inside...

"Europe is frozen."

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.

My poor pleco friend lies dead, flushed into the sea.

My poor pleco friend, rest in peace and let me rest too.

pleco

2012-02-05T22:12:00.002+08:00

My darling Jeremiah, I hope you rest in peace. Your stay was short and I bet very uncomfortable and I hope you are now in a better place. You have been a great help to Edward and I and we are grateful to you.

inside

2012-02-03T13:02:00.002+08:00

He is inside, inside a jar;
He is inside, inside the jar.

Fogging up the glass...

don't indulge

2012-02-02T11:47:00.003+08:00

Busy yourself. Just keep busy. Take deep breaths when you feel like you might fall.

Keep the balance, be in control.

Only allow yourself small bits of missing at a time... Little by little... Take it little by little...

philippines 2012, numbers

2012-02-01T20:16:00.010+08:00

27 underwater pictures
12 tricycles
10 garlic rice
9 fish dishes
8 islands
8 days
7 nights
7 crossed paths
6 games
5.3km+ walk
4 most hospitable homes for visitors
4 plane rides
4 towns
4 kalamansi juice
3 private minivans
3 rains
3 tagalog words learned
(salamatbo, saraap, tuube)
3 shells
2 drinks
2 buttered shrimps dish
2.5 mangoes
1 hammock
1 sunrise
1 stuffed squid
1 zipline adventure
1 nasty tan
1 kiss in the rain
1 reunion
1 honest fare
1 soaked then dried passport
1 manang
1 buko
1 star apple
1 happy tree

天下太平

2012-01-19T08:32:00.003+08:00

Maybe it's finally time...

失憶好過

mm, west side story

2012-01-18T10:25:00.000+08:00

Tonight, tonight
The world is wild and bright
Going mad
Shooting sparks into space

Today, the world was just an address
A place for me to live in
No better than all right

But here you are
And what was just a world is a star
Tonight

Oh world, thank you for Stephen Sondheim.

rainy day playlist

2012-01-15T21:28:00.003+08:00

soft and sappy Korean ballads, Japanese rock, Vivaldi

Bob Marley knows most about perfection.

rainy day, public transport day, all day

"You aren't either..."

sayonara no natsu

2012-01-13T21:42:00.003+08:00

New Studio Ghibli film, Kokuriko-zaka Kara.
(but animated by The Miyazaki's son?)

Sort of this melodramatic over-nostalgic feeling to it.

Interesting, though I am sad Hisaishi has no part in this production...

how do i say it?

2012-01-12T18:38:00.005+08:00

Overwhelming rush of longing
and gratefulness and strength,
different feelings all at the same time.

I continue to miss you,
never stopped since that time.

Words are not enough,
but they can push me forward,
look forward again.

Always crying.

a little bit of this a little bit of that

2012-01-11T08:12:00.002+08:00

Added resolutions:
4. Make a real effort to keep better in touch with friends who care about keeping in touch.
5. Make progress in Spanish.

Mango-Os

HYDRATION.

Late late late late late...

There are people in the ocean again.

2012-01-08T00:49:00.000+08:00

I can't sleep.

this is not a poem

2012-01-06T13:01:00.001+08:00

'cause i think it's weird
she's gonna think it's sweet
and i'll be nauseated

I feel like shit

2012-01-04T09:10:00.000+08:00

What do you want me to do?
What do you want me to say?

I feel far away.

people in the sea

2012-01-04T07:29:00.002+08:00

swim against the tide
even in weather like today...

It's a gloom fest here.
Cold, dark, the sun won't come to the party.

Vomit all the gross out.
You will be better.

Oh you, past you
why do you take me
why do you break me
why do you still

If she had just turned around,
if she had just made a different choice
maybe not a better choice, just a different one
the ending would have been different.

The beginning would have been different.

And she may have seen something else,
she may have found something else.

This enigmatic flash forward and back.

Maybe if I didn't care so much about bringing that past back, if those things wouldn't feel like the same kind of pain over and over.

Against the tide... but they try and swim on,
maybe not forward, maybe they stay in the same spot.
But it's cold and they might die.

2012-01-04T06:23:00.000+08:00

estranged

The Resolutions

2012-01-03T08:10:00.004+08:00

1. Go to the gym and work out there productively -- at least once a week.

2. Gratefulness.

3. Control.

(2. and 3. are less attainable "goals"... but they'll have to do for now.)

auld lang syne and other songs

2012-01-01T22:56:00.004+08:00

review and resolute
replay and remember
reflect and reconcile

[active voice]

Give me some sunshine
Give me some rain
Give me another chance
I wanna grow up once again...

Jeene do
Jeene do

In 2011, they said I grew up.

I've soaked in some beautiful things this year.
I held my own and emerged better. I felt change.
I felt empowerment. I felt pain, I felt hope.

I will be better in 2012. I will grow up more.
I will laugh more and cry harder.

Been resolution collecting...
My own, posted later...

(Thanks, 2011, you were a good one.)

career change

2011-12-29T22:20:00.001+08:00

I want to work at Disneyland.

I want to sing songs and dance all day and night.

steamy world

2011-12-29T22:13:00.003+08:00

the tiles are browning with age
square buttons with gold swirl
button in a button - tiles, very small
edges browning, but still gold
aged, anti-slip ugly looking florals
stuck forever at the bottom
sea-foam green bathtub

the vent is off
the vent is off

you come out and it's still hot
the mist rises from the surface of the water

you are the water
there is no you
just water

sea-foam green world

[Not posted when it was written.]

merry Christmas eve

2011-12-24T21:20:00.002+08:00

First Christmas eve in Hong Kong and I'm spending after 9pm alone. The person I want to be with is not here. I have no lights on my Christmas tree. I have a blankie, a cup of hot water and a very big credit card bill to pay.

Had a short conversation with someone who I haven't spoken to in a long time.

Mm, not feeling altogether too shabby.

Quiet night.

A stranger carrying a huge cake and lots of beer said merry Christmas to me.

Merry Christmas to you too.

carpe diem

2011-12-21T21:46:00.000+08:00

Yes, but do you know the rest of it?

quam minimum credula postero

2011-12-19T21:20:00.000+08:00

You've spoiled me.
You've ruined me.

hypocritically healthy

2011-12-16T10:32:00.001+08:00

Multi-grain Pringles: So healthy, so hypocritical.

So good.

(If I don't eat something I'm going to faint.)

cheese and songs, yet again

2011-12-15T09:16:00.005+08:00

VOICE VOICE VOICE VOICE VOICE VOICE

Fan-girling... yet again.

Just like me,
they long to be,
close to youu.

I like his type of voice soooo much. Sheldon!
(He also does covers of songs that I love too!)
(Due to lack of facebook, I have nowhere to fan-girl... so it'll have to go here.)

Also, replay of Kiss Goodbye... a million times.

I really really like male duets... some kind of magnetism roping me in.

Man, I got kind of lost like I'm in a different world. Voices. Always have to snap myself back into this reality... where I'm getting sick yet again.

Break Even is so.... goood. Especially his cover.

who knew

2011-12-14T20:11:00.001+08:00

...my goodness!
Coaxing a turtle to eat is like...

If parenting is anything like this maybe I should reconsider...

stolen

2011-12-13T15:22:00.001+08:00

“But,” said Caterpillar,
“Will I still know myself – in wings?" - Grace Nichols

A magical dose of poetry...

repulsed

2011-12-12T08:18:00.003+08:00

Sometimes you wake up and you wish you were not the monster you were in the dream you dreamed. You are repulsed that you have these impulses, these subconscious thoughts inside. How terrified you are of that monster - yourself.

Push it all away... try and forget that such a you exists and live your day suppressing your monsters.

Wake up now,
Wake up, now.

how intrusive

2011-12-08T09:52:00.003+08:00

The memory of some, so tangible it walks right into their face.
So clear that they are just outside the car window.
Memory -- intrusion.

But of some, memories have no windshield wipers.
Dirt, mist, rain, contorts and loses the clarity and visibility.
Unintrusive. Free, and irresponsible.

Only dreams, half-remembered...
resurfacing into the present, but denial... denial.

with open arms

2011-12-07T14:50:00.003+08:00

I remember closeness.
I remember warmth.
I remember many things now.

someone lost and someone found

2011-12-04T08:58:00.001+08:00

"This all began with someone lost and someone found, and who's to say which was which?"

feel the chill

2011-12-03T07:50:00.003+08:00

The cold makes the air feel so nice. (But at the same time, I shiver and grumble.) It's dry and crisp and eating and drinking hot things is like... amazing.

Winter fashions are gorgeous. Everyone is bundled up in various styles and colour. With more cloth you can do so much more with the design.

But..... despite all, I just want to stay in bed.

implode!

2011-11-29T08:19:00.003+08:00

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.

half wake half sleep

2011-11-25T06:17:00.001+08:00

This nightmare of an existence.

Can the hurt end already?

I feel like someone drilled a hole right through me.

solitude

2011-11-24T07:36:00.004+08:00

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.

close your eyes

2011-11-23T12:58:00.002+08:00

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...

beauty

2011-11-21T09:59:00.002+08:00

Tadpoles are so beautiful,
especially in growth.

Something I hadn't thought I would think beautiful.

the guess tree

2011-11-21T08:04:00.002+08:00

"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.

love music, love life

2011-11-16T08:06:00.002+08:00

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.]

so when did you grow up?

2011-11-13T20:08:00.008+08:00

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.

more than I can say

2011-11-09T19:52:00.002+08:00

... ukulele and rainy days are a match made in heaven!

:) new song in repertoire.

multi-sensory art gallery

2011-11-08T20:27:00.003+08:00

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...

every day is yesterday

2011-11-07T08:18:00.007+08:00

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.)

chance of precipitation

2011-11-05T23:02:00.003+08:00

Red velvet kisses,
banana peach tea kisses,
grateful kisses,
sorry kisses.

"Never enough."

I don't think I said thank you enough.

scavenging

2011-11-02T15:41:00.005+08:00

...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.]

rooted

2011-10-30T19:08:00.002+08:00

I saw a girl today, teenager, she looked young. But her face looked old and weary of the world. Her eyes sunken.

The mall was the usual, swarming with people, bustling, moving, always moving.

And she was standing right in the middle of everyone walking, people pushed past her, but her feet were planted, rooted firmly to the ground.

She swayed a little and looked a bit like she was in a trance. It was an odd scene.

Sometimes I feel like her, but I don't have the physical inclination or the courage to do what she was doing. Maybe she couldn't control herself.

It was odd watching her or thinking about her afterwards. I wanted to give her a hug or something to set her in motion again. She looked like she could use a jump start.

day of the dead cockroaches

2011-10-29T17:35:00.004+08:00

I don't get it, I probably spotted at least 8 or 9 dead ones on the street ... squashed by human feet.

My grandmothers have the cutest farts ever. And they're not bashful about it at all. They have TV sounding farts. I love them.

Losing and losing........ a lot of weight.

I need to stuff my face like a "ravenous little animal" and get all that fat back. (I think my grandmothers are more than willing to help.)

in-between

2011-10-27T12:53:00.001+08:00

consciousness.

Been having problems sleeping. Not so much falling into it (a problem from before), but not being able to control the waking.

The dreaming has been vivid and mostly carries anxiety, always leaving me feeling slightly unsettled, unnerved, unable to go back to sleep, then thoughts drift, tangential; and the final phase is always me begging, begging someone or something to let me go back to sleep. (And of course there’s the nasty cough too.)

contiguous.

Perhaps what a friend says is right – subconsciously I’m a nervous jittery wreck. I don’t want to mess up anything. But what is there to mess up anyway? Relax, girly.

The father is retiring and I am happy for him. In his words, “You may wish to know that my decision for retirement is partially facilitated by your ability of getting a job and your financial independence.” Oh, daddy.

mindlessness.

What do I need to be free from?

random words on a page.

I also think Steve Jobs was a fascinating man.

2011-10-22T22:31:00.000+08:00

What are you waiting for?

things will be better

2011-10-19T05:48:00.000+08:00

window pane framed sunrise

Just creeps up on you... the day.

lost

2011-10-18T19:21:00.004+08:00

I don't want to go. I only want to stay and stay and stay. I don't want to go.
I don't want to give you hurt. I don't know how to fight or what to fight even when all I do is fight. Fight you. Fight myself.

2011-10-16T17:20:00.000+08:00

I hate it. I hate waiting.

agua caliente

2011-10-15T00:50:00.002+08:00

I have a soul that sings and dances and nothing can stop me.

Heck, I can't even stop me.

flurry

2011-10-12T18:15:00.003+08:00

I was transfixed today, as I stood there, doing what I always do - wait.

I stood alone and I watched the mist lingering, sprawling over the mountains like a damp clingy cloth.

And from a certain angle (I always see things from certain angles these days), I watched the rain.

The rain was silent, it wasn't tumbling down like it was in a hurry. It was drifting in slow motion... felt soft -- it was like..... snow. My eyes must've been playing tricks on me because sometimes it felt so slow, it came to a pause. Rain suspended midair. I wanted to touch it, be with it, be in it. I wanted to be it.

And at that moment my heart tugged with longing for home, for that place where I used to stay out and watch snow float, watch it suspend in the air for moments before joining the rest of the fluff.

Forced out of my moment once again by the end of the waiting, the sound of the lift rolling open for me to be on my way.

I turned to look down once more before I returned to ... and I saw the rain pitter patter down on the concrete floor... I woke. Rain.

2011-10-11T19:47:00.000+08:00

.... a moment pregnant with thought.

sharp

2011-10-08T09:48:00.003+08:00

All night, half awake, half not.

You with me and then not again. Not exactly dreaming. What did you call the night again? The other side of the morning? Another life? God, I can't find the words you used for it. I miss our conversations at night.

Vivid dreaming.

I feel like I've been doing so many things, packing them in, not giving myself a moment to breathe.

I was sitting at a strangely particular and peculiar angle on the minibus yesterday...looking out. Watching the outside from inside this strange emporium like place or inside an aquarium. I didn't belong to myself. Jaundiced glow of the night lights, sometimes reddish. Momentarily suffocated by thought. I became a spectator of another world that I was completely unfamiliar with. Became the spectator of myself in that world. I forgot where I was, looked around and forgot who I was. One of those moments but contained, trapped in it- claustro. Squished into this other... this other that I couldn't put my finger on. I said to myself "Don't panic, you're in Hong Kong, on a minibus." The bus driver's cursing forced me out of the state. And on I rode, late. Always late.

Minibus Emporium.

thoroughly

2011-10-05T22:37:00.003+08:00

Thank you for a week of undeserved good. You've given and given and I have not given much back.

I live now as though I were not my own but always together, not apart. You've given me much to remember you by and too much to miss you with. In the morning, I wake and feel empty and wish you were there.

My fingers, like raindrops, but you, like a typhoon. Can't forget you. Your eyes and kisses. I own territory, you better take care of it.

Oceans... oceans...

Don't (won't) indulge.

buttons

2011-10-01T21:50:00.006+08:00

When you're going up or down or sometimes you feel like it's both, you hear things. A grey wash, you are tired. The fluorescent light and the buttons -- you suspect the plastic sheet protector has never been changed, the floors never been washed.

In that small space you are confined to this noise, the whirring of the machine taking you up, and the red numbers on a black screen climbing as you climb, by evens.

You think of the possibility of being trapped in.

But then you hear other worlds, between 8 to 10 or 20 to 22, you hear giggles of children or snippets of a conversation about the upcoming meal, or muttered arguments of a stale couple. Blurry, but in the quiet you hear it like tuning in (but only for split seconds) after much white noise. You are sucked in to these other worlds, these other people, these other smells, these other quarrels, they are not added to you, you are added to them.

As if you could see, touch, feel, but you could only hear.

And for moments you're not allowed to escape their world, the many worlds, this world. For the moments before you step into your own corner, you must be thrown, pushed, forced into other worlds - by sound.

seeping

2011-09-26T06:04:00.003+08:00

My bad is coming out. Slowly but surely.

I'm not sure if I can let you be (my) constant. I end up taking things for granted. I'm moody and messy and worst of all impatient as all hell and take everything for granted. You'll hate it...

Blots of black ink, spreading on white cloth, fast.

I'm so sorry. I'm this way, and I don't like to be this way. Don't run.

papaya marmalade

2011-09-22T23:52:00.005+08:00

She takes out the colourful, glossy children's picture book out of her hand bag. Ordinary looking, but so full of magic and so full of her magic inside. So she takes it out with a smile. She reads it, absorbed, her own world, the book's world. Finishing, she puts it away, refreshed, ready again to face the adults, the adults being adults all the time. She has her little secret, her own little world.

I'm like her, deep inside. I wish I was brave enough to pull out one of my little worlds. Absorbed, everything else stripped away. Responsibility, obligation. She reminds me I don't need to be what I don't want to be. I don't need to say what I'm supposed to say. I could be, no, should be whatever I want.

Down below, the city continues to live on without me and my smile...

Only a few left now. Patience, child.

please

2011-09-20T22:05:00.001+08:00

Let me be free.

It is time now.

teach your granny to text and other ways to change the world

2011-09-20T19:25:00.003+08:00

Dear peach tea,

Your fragrance makes me so happy.

Just wanted you to know that.

K

dance of the sugar plum fairy

2011-09-19T23:10:00.000+08:00

Someone, (a painter, a lover of books and food and sensuality and laughter), said to me today, "If I had to work with any people at all, it would be children. Otherwise, I'd just rather be a recluse." I'm fascinated with people who love to hermit, perhaps because I see them in me as well.

On the contrary though, I want to have dinner with a really big group of people, all together, laughing, being loud and not caring. Not caring about a lot of things that should probably be cared about.

Moments today... caught myself floating a bit. Choppy day, many people, many things day. Many words, many thoughts.

Magnetism.

Hm, this one wasn't very good overall, I suppose the story did have some flow, but I felt like the words weren't as poignant. But still, it does deserve mention I guess, considering, I haven't really been doing much reading in awhile. Time, I need more of it.

"Without the light, no chance; without the dark, no dance. Which meant that even bad things did some good because they were a challenge and you didn't always know what good effects they might have." - Atwood's Ren from The Year of the Flood

I want to dance.

child adult, adult child

2011-09-18T20:14:00.003+08:00

Day to day things, swifering the floor a million times and still finding hair and dust, the burnt smell of ironing board, the terrible stoves, the failed steamed eggs, overspending... Settling now. There's a sense of motion though in a still place.

I wondered if my mundane would bore you, wondered if it would deter you from me, and I hope it won't.

Wish I could do nothing for some time and lie there and lie there and lie there......

Questions and answers, thinking and learning.

Optical illusions and zebras and scales and chocolate covered jelly.

Need some more magic,
need some more contentness;
need some more needlessness.

I look forward to each and every day but I don't look forward to the artificial smiles some people have. Perhaps I am still being naive but I feel as though I could call some of these people friends and I need to keep them close or the rest of it all will drive me berserk. Maybe I also need to be more cautious...

the monkeys and mrs. wishy-washy

2011-09-14T17:30:00.004+08:00

Woke up next to a gorgeous cloud. The way the sun was shining on it, it was like a fluffy fire in the middle of the sky, floating, blimp like in motion. I wanted to catch it and play with it.

Woke up next to the sea, it was far away but it felt close and I felt good, though the sleep was no good.

Productive, sleepy day.

"So how much longer do I have to wait then?" asked the boy.
"More than a minute, less than forever." said the girl.

stirring, blending something

2011-09-13T11:24:00.004+08:00

Living in many different worlds, it seems.

The dystopia of Atwood's fictional future scape. The endless suffocation of the faux reality my mother has created around me, the bubble of protection. The strange fake existence of me amidst my colleagues. The genuine laughter with others. Some happy, some mellow.

The gratefulness, the ungratefulness.

The plate before me, full of challenge, wonder, illusion, disillusionment.
Too full to let go, too emptied to take more.

Soon the busy will flood me.

What you have before you, you never appreciate.
And what is taken from you...

uplifting

2011-09-06T19:32:00.003+08:00

The message is cheesy, but the lyrics are well put together.

I've listened to it many times and always like the lyrics, it gives me courage, makes me want to "stay true to myself" ha ha ha............

Goodness, it's so cliche.

我是誰 - Magic Power

我是誰你是否常常這樣問自己
我是誰總是活在別人的期望裡
我是誰是誰又擅自幫你定義了
你是誰只有不是自己才安全

為什麼你以為這個世界很美麗
為什麼你愛這個世界勝過愛自己
為什麼這個世界不給你平等待遇
為什麼到底做錯了什麼

朋友都說你太太太奇怪
在背後把你當成笑笑笑話看
每一個動作都被瞎猜
他們說你是個不能容忍的存在

你想要的很很很簡單
不過就是最普通的的的平凡
誠實做自己有時候很難
但是請你勇敢的試一次看看

無論他們又說什麼閒言閒語無法傷害我
世界上只有一個我沒人能代替的我
無論他們又做什麼小動作無法打敗我
我知道自己是最美麗的
The most beautiful

會不會上帝把你的靈魂放錯了身體
會不會是故意整你不是不小心
會不會你常常都覺得力不從心
會不會堅持要做自己太危險

憑什麼難道比較特別就是不對
憑什麼先下了註解在認識之前
憑什麼只不過想認真的活一遍
憑什麼隨便就把人定罪

我是誰這個問題困擾你多少天多少夜
我是誰誰有資格決定你怎樣才是對
我是誰我是誰我是誰
我就是我你就是你
認真做自己的人最美麗

Finally, things to smile about today and the days to come. I feel more grounded. My feet dipped, ready to run, ready to go. Calmer, less jittery. I feel the courage now.

patient people and words words just words

2011-09-03T21:33:00.004+08:00

Thank you for your existence. So many people today. So, so many. All too nice and patient with my idiocy and endless questions.

Double-decker buses and shining waters, like you're with the tides. Flowing with it, in it but flying above it.

Rain speckled windows, looking out.
Mountains looming one after another -
Inverse silhouettes against
the skyless sky, one stretch of monotone.

A bumpy ride out
A slow ride back

Remember to look up!

The mountains and the buildings and
songs of birds,
songs on birds.

A short walk
sprinkled with rain.

Keeping abreast with my own self.
walking, pacing, trying.

Breathing

things you think about on a taxi

2011-09-02T22:04:00.003+08:00

The mother's preferred method of transportation is taxi. Hong Kong taxi drivers are always talking. They never stop talking. They're so bored. They talk about everything from appetiteless dolphins to Gravol and vomit. In fact, I think they inspired chat forums. The way they radio each other non-stop.

Dear D,

Don't give your love so easily. Though I much appreciate it, it's a really big word you give, this "love". How casually and easily you give it....

K

Eyes, eyes, eyes and ears.

I don't think I'll ever get rid of all the sand in my bag... and every grain...

I like laughter, I like it a lot. I like being in it, with it, engaged.

the heat

2011-08-29T13:06:00.004+08:00

...is kind of suffocating.

Haven't had time to think and rest properly in awhile. I really need that.

I found the missing again. How could I possibly let you go when you gave me those words, those eyes, those kisses? We both knew if we took a break, I would fade and lose us. And I couldn't bear to hurt you the way I had said I would...

I don't think I could have done it, no, I don't think I could have; know that it would've hurt me just as much as it would hurt you.

And I am sorry I gave you your tears.

no way to say it but simply

2011-08-24T07:41:00.000+08:00

I feel very, very alone right now.

I miss my father and my brother.

dire

2011-08-23T21:46:00.003+08:00

Everyday, I smell the sea.

Increasingly forgetful in certain things. I catch myself on the subway or a corridor blanking out or completely forgetting where I am, who I am and what I'm doing. Like a moment of blindness.

Worse and worse... I'm getting worse at hiding and worse at....

I'm terrible.

mucky

2011-08-23T07:35:00.002+08:00

Everything is foggy and I can't remember and I can't remember. Every day feels like one day farther not closer. I thought occupying my mind on other things would help. Can't reconcile everything together. Can't find the relevance or something......

strange

2011-08-22T22:15:00.000+08:00

It was like a dream today. I met people who I've met before, seems like I met people from another lifetime.

Met a man whose eyes seemed to swim into yours, then deep into your mind, then deep under the heart, swimming. Like after he looked at you he sapped some thought in and from you, some spirit or some memory. He said he's a psychiatrist. Strangely enough, he was also really memorable. He's one of those people you remember as being slightly disconcerting after you meet them. Like he's too good of a listener. Felt weird.

Also, taught to speak Cantonese tones by a Caucasian man who had the tones down to the tee. He was fantastic!

Trapped in a freezing box too cold to move.

I went over that bump using my mind but
I don't know where the heart is or was.

(It's better but still sore. Like there's something missing but I really don't know what and I don't know what to do.)

Soon, soon.... soon. Patience.

I wonder why this post was never posted...

2011-08-19T22:19:00.000+08:00

This feels like aeons ago. I want to go back to this kind of simplicity where just breathing felt so full and so powerful. And now in this chaotic mess, I know how much I crave it and need it. How much I hold those moments close.

Hmm, and the excerpt from Siddhartha...

August 6th, 2011, 11:38PM

I like the silent moments too. Like, breathing together in the same moment. Timeless. Spaceless.

Kind of unrelated, but speaks of time and has such pretty words.

"Not knowing any more whether time existed, whether the vision had lasted a second or a hundred years, not knowing any more whether there existed a Siddhartha, a Gautama, a me and a you, feeling in his innermost self as if he had been wounded by a divine arrow, the injury of which tasted sweet, being enchanted and dissolved in his innermost self..."

days passing...

2011-08-19T10:59:00.000+08:00

I'm so tired. Feel like I'm trudging in mud and every day feels like another triumph and another failure.

I feel like I'm just on a roller coaster that won't ever, ever end and I can't breathe or I feel like there's no stop and no rest and no refuge and nowhere to run.

Non-stop. Sometimes, meeting people genuinely in this strange, high-tension place is challenging. What are the right things to say in which situations...

And it's hard to always keep guard, because I'm too good at letting my guard down and really bad at keeping walls up.

...and I'm so, so tired.

embarkment

2011-08-13T14:22:00.003+08:00

More than ever now, I feel that warmth. This intense feeling that I am supported so well. So many people to fall and lean on. So many supportive spirits that will catch me and lift me and push me to where I need to be. I have an army behind me, and I'm ready. I am touched by those who've given me so much.

Bubble wrapped and shipped.

Ready to go. 24 hours before I'm in the 852.

(And now I am crying, I will miss the father so much.)

exhaustion beyond belief

2011-08-12T12:32:00.001+08:00

Packing is honestly the worst activity in the whole world.
My life in boxes, suitcases and garbage bins. It's the worst.

I need to hydrate. Hydrate.

B12?

not moving

2011-08-07T11:04:00.002+08:00

Found a post from August 1st that I drafted but never posted:
"I'm not unraveling as I thought I would be by now. Twelve days to prepare and I'm still laying around, idling, reading, doing things I like to do."

Hm, I'm still doing that... I think I should start doing stuff.

my heart and the X-ray man

2011-08-06T21:50:00.004+08:00

I got a chest X-ray done today to make sure I don't have any "communicable diseases". The room felt like a magic room with whirring machines and a strange kind of lighting. Somewhere I would imagine the wizard of Oz to reside.

The X-ray technician who showed me my X-rays was very friendly, freckled and had an interesting moustache. He said (a mild Indian accent) "K, hmm, that is good name. Who give you that name?"

"My mother."

"Oh your mother is good, it is good name." He proceeded to put his hands in unclenched fists, thumbs facing up, pointing out and asked me to do the same. Bewildered, I did as he asked and he said "This is size of your heart. Everyone different, see."

He points at my X-ray and beckons for me to put my hands in that formation up against the shadow of my heart. Please with himself, he smiles at me, "See? I tell you the truth."

We look at the X-ray, a silent pause, and I ask, "I hope there's nothing wrong with me." He says, "No, no. No problem."

"What is that one over there?"

He says, "Ah, that is the stomach. Your stomach is empty. Hungry, huh?" We laugh.

An interesting encounter.

I am also mighty fond of my physician and her secretary. They're nice people of a different sort, I can't put my finger on it though. They're genuinely and naturally warm and has good humour. Nice smiles, laughs and voices too.

2011-08-05T21:45:00.001+08:00

A coward, that's what I am.

steamed crabs, an art

2011-08-05T11:35:00.003+08:00

I'm covered in the yellow goop of crabs, my shirt spotted with it. And I smell of it. And ginger and green spring onions. Under my fingernails and in my hair. And it was delicious.

The knife must be swift and with one motion. The hammering with the other hand, one strike! Keep the meat locked in.

Ebullient laughter ringing out, feasting on happy!
Abundance of food, so warm and the talk had musical quality.

A good funeral.

thus spoke the father

2011-08-05T04:32:00.006+08:00

Over our midday meal today, the father said to me, "To reach a new level of maturity, one must achieve the most patient and the highest ability of listening. In your profession, teaching, it is not your utterances that will matter most, but rather your ability to listen closely to your students and to listen so very closely before you speak."

I told him what he said reminded me of Siddhartha, and a lot of things do these days, very strangely so.

A beautiful passage on Vasudeva, a teacher.
"Vasudeva listened very attentively. Listening carefully, he let everything enter his mind, birthplace, and childhood, all that learning, all that searching, all joy, all woe. This was among the ferryman's virtues one of the greatest: like only a few, he knew how to listen. Without a word from Vasudeva, the speaker sensed how Vasudeva let his words enter his mind, quiet, open, waiting, how he did not lose a single one, awaited not a single one with impatience, did not add his praise or rebuke, was just listening. Siddhartha felt, what happiness it is to unburden himself to such a listener, to sink his own life into this listener's heart, his own seeking, his own suffering."

A bit of beautiful wisdom or trait I must develop. I want to be a person whose heart people can sink their life into. Too often too rash with my thoughts (quick to judge), too often too quick with my words (quick to speak), too often too impatient with my acts (quick to choose and choose wrongly). I need that serenity Vasudeva embodies and exudes.

I need this virtue, this "just listening".

enter the German lieder

2011-08-04T10:21:00.004+08:00

Oh, glorious glorious!

The stories that music spins from poetry and from narratives. The recitativo secco of Schubert's Der Erlkönig. The sinister build up and the dark twisted dramaticism. The intensity of the whole thing. The seductive voice of the Erlkönig... so smooth, greasy, luring, the temptations he offers. Done well, you can hear the changes in the music so clearly without knowledge of the language and it gives you chills. The creepiness of the whole thing. God, Schubert, you genius.

Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt!
(And if you're not willing, then I'll use force!)

God I'm going to have nightmares from this and Firebird.

Russian ballets and French operas

2011-08-04T07:39:00.003+08:00

Today has been powered by Bizet and Stravinsky (and some Oblomov).

Watched Petrushka and am in awe of the colours and the vitality of the rhythm and how interesting ballet can be. Not only that but Stravinsky's choice of story for this is brilliant. The music and the dance makes for an interesting combination and words aren't everything. The ghost of Petrushka, the perfect set... the emotions evoked on the faces... how each beat is not wasted, brilliant!

And Mr. George Bizet - the Habanera aria - annoyingly catchy and the overture is constantly running and running in my head.

I'd like to watch Firebird now...

on Siddhartha

2011-08-03T14:16:00.000+08:00

I'm nearing the end of this... actually nearing the end of many things, and of course, starting anew.

Anyway, Siddhartha. First a general comment. I don't think I've ever felt so light and drawn to another world as this. I have been reading this as I sit in the strangest places, unfamiliar places... The words seem to wash over me like really soft warm sand. I want to read more and more of it, but I feel like I've neglected some in thirst for more; so I try so hard to hold the words in me, altogether and try to make it one, try to remember it as one whole. I think it's good. It's not earth-shatteringly dramatic or cry-worthy, doesn't heighten or evoke emotions the way I usually like it, but it sort of creates this serenity in me; like I'm lifted to a separate space, a place different from where I am when I read it.

I have tons more, but we'll start with this one.

"When someone seeks," said Siddhartha, "then it easily happens that his eyes see only the thing that he seeks, and he is able to find nothing, to take in nothing because he always thinks only about the thing he is seeking, because he has one goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means: having a goal. But finding means: being free, being open, having no goal. You, Venerable One, may truly be a seeker, for, in striving toward your goal, you fail to see certain things that are right under your nose."

I am so, so sleepy but there is much to do....

Hm, he speaks of sleep and of words too...
but more tomorrow, to bed for me now.

Padam... padam...

2011-07-31T08:53:00.002+08:00

Cet air qui m'obsède jour et nuit
Cet air n'est pas né d'aujourd'hui
Il vient d'aussi loin que je viens
Traîné par cent mille musiciens
Un jour cet air me rendra folle
Cent fois j'ai voulu dire pourquoi
Mais il m'a coupé la parole
Il parle toujours avant moi
Et sa voix couvre ma voix

Padam...padam...padam...
Il arrive en courant derrière moi
Padam...padam...padam...
Il me fait le coup du souviens-toi
Padam...padam...padam...
C'est un air qui me montre du doigt
Et je traîne après moi comme un drôle d'erreur
Cet air qui sait tout par cœur

Il dit: "Rappelle-toi tes amours
Rappelle-toi puisque c'est ton tour
'y a pas d'raison pour qu'tu n'pleures pas
Avec tes souvenirs sur les bras...
" Et moi je revois ceux qui restent
Mes vingt ans font battre tambour
Je vois s'entrebattre des gestes
Toute la comédie des amours
Sur cet air qui va toujours

Padam...padam...padam...
Des "je t'aime" de quatorze-juillet
Padam...padam...padam...
Des "toujours" qu'on achète au rabais
Padam...padam...padam...
Des "veux-tu" en voilà par paquets
Et tout ça pour tomber juste au coin d'la rue
Sur l'air qui m'a reconnue
...
Écoutez le chahut qu'il me fait
...
Comme si tout mon passé défilait
...
Faut garder du chagrin pour après
J'en ai tout un solfège sur cet air qui bat...
Qui bat comme un cœur de bois...

- - - - -
Oh, Edith Piaf...

This song haunts me night and day
This song is not the sort written today
It comes from as far away as I come from
Trawled by a hundred thousand musicians
One day this song will drive me crazy
A hundred times I wanted to ask "Why?"
But it stole the words away from me
It always speaks before I can try
And its voice is always louder than mine...

Padam, padam, padam,
It follows right behind me
Padam, padam, padam,
It strikes me with your memory
Padam, padam, padam,
It's a song that points out my fear
And I drag it around like a strange error
This song knows all that I hold dear
It says: "Remember your lovers
Remember when it's your turn to suffer
There's no reason for you not to cry
With all the memories you carry on by"
And again I see those left behind
My twenty years like the beat of a drummer
I watch as their gestures collide
Just like the comedy of my lovers
From this song that goes on forever...

Padam, padam, padam,
An "I love you" on the Fourteenth of July
Padam, padam, padam,
An "Always" is so cheap to buy
Padam, padam, padam,
An "I want you" like a present to hide
And all just to end up standing on the street
With the song that always recognizes me...

Listen to that crazy dance it insists I try...
As if my entire past marched on by...
Hold onto some sorrow, don't ask why
I share a whole bar in this song that starts
That beats like a wooden heart

life's a circus

2011-07-30T11:06:00.003+08:00

What a fantastic show we put on. Had its great moments of hilarity.

By the end of the show, the pride was bursting from my whole being. I stood and clapped so hard for my children. My hands almost broke from clapping. I loved it and them so much. Their work, their collective creation.

It was so colourful and fun and so full of energy and happy. I wanted to jump up and down with them. I wanted to laugh with them.

I gave every single one of them a hug after.

The music is still playing and playing and will probably be playing for awhile....

Padam... padam...

hot antic jazz band

2011-07-28T10:48:00.002+08:00

"I can't stop loving you." -- The ending is so good.

I get to call a show tomorrow. Officially. (With Lighting, Sound...) Oh my gosh it's so nerve wracking and SCARY! What if I mess up? The kids will hate me forever...........!

Life is busy and exhausting... and no sleep is enough.

the storm after the calm

2011-07-27T10:57:00.002+08:00

Everybody needs to calm down.

I'm so busy I don't have to breathe and all I want to do is lie on my bed all day and think or enjoy the summery breeze that happens so rarely.

lifted fog

2011-07-24T11:46:00.002+08:00

Tonight I saw what I could have/would have/might have had; but as I saw, I knew, what I have right now is what I want so much more than what I could have/would have/might have had. It's because the other you, the real, the ever present background you - you are you that makes the knowing so certain. I know that what I saw in the past was foggy and smokey and skewed by what I didn't know. That past gravitational pull to the unknown, the fear and risk of what I thought I could own or have or keep. What I thought was the model, the standard of what I measured to be what I wanted, it's gone. So I am free, the heaviness lifted and I can even be happy you are the other's.

So, this is it. Step forward, a good step.

Dear Person A,

You're not as good as I thought, actually you're not good at all for what I thought you were good for but I'm happy that is what it is. And now, your chapter has finally closed tight. No claws thrashing out nor whispers of gnashing teeth. The monster quiet. No left over bones, no scars.

Good night, it was a pleasure to meet you for real
and know, there's no such thing as this "ideal".

K

reverse sociological phenomena

2011-07-21T07:52:00.004+08:00

Agree to it. Engage.

The power of agreeing imaginations,
brings the imagination of
the first mime
alive to the people watching.

Mime - know what both imaginations are agreeing to.

There's a girl in the class, she's often mistaken for a boy, much to her disadvantage. Often isolated and last to be picked for partner games, she is the fun one in the play, who does not get left out. In the play, she is the new one, the coveted one, the star of the circus, the one praised most.

And the one who is praised most, Miss Populaire, most loved by peers is the bully in the play, the one who steals, the one who deceives.

Of course, we're talking about children here.

They live happily ever after.

growing games bank

2011-07-20T08:33:00.004+08:00

Girl with old soul, avid reader.

Says this to her teacher:
"But he won't feel as strongly as I do,
that's just the way he is,
and that's just the way I am."

In response to her teacher who said:
"Don't you think that you doing that back to him
will just start this whole unpleasant affair?
This taking revenge doesn't really get anyone anywhere."

It's good to know yourself.

"I'm a lizard."

Caribbean Jazz is really good!

A curious acquaintance I have,
with a professional clown.
She's hilarious and we share the
giggles. And she has got the most
lovely face.

les oursons dans la tasse

2011-07-18T04:40:00.004+08:00

No rain, no rainbow.

Deep dark purple flowers
carry and exude a feeling of sensuality.

Light hydrangeas are pretty
and look rather gentle, I am particularly
fond of blue white hued ones. They've always got
a tint of acceptable pink in them.