Dreaming of --> Pumped up Kicks by Foster the People <--

I can't sleep soundly.  So far I have never asked anything from you up until this point.  I say up until this point because I need to ask this of you.  Wherever you may be in the world, at whatever time it may be, no matter how tired you are to, if it is inconvenient to talk, or perhaps it is because there is someone lying next to you; I don't care. Drop me a message saying goodnight because then I'd know despite being anywhere in the world and in whoever's arms you may be in as the moon emerges for the night, at least I'd still know you are in bed, safe, sound and in one piece.  That is all I ask of you, one word.

 

15 August 2011

*internal monologue*

He said it! He said it! *squuuueeeeeeeeeeee* >3>

Dreaming of --> Young Folks by Peter Bjorn and John <--

... if any one still blogs for the sake of writing for their own personal reading. It seems that these days, the only people who have maintained their blog from the (I would call) blog-era, are people who are being given incentives and are being paid to make sure their sites have visitors and followers.  Like so many other aspects in life, I guess money is the only way of ensuring commitment eh?

Anyway, after the rant. I just noticed that perhaps I should stop being so vague as well, since nobody reads this and when I read older entries, my goldfish memory unfortunately prevails and I'm not sure what it is I'm talking about!

Diverting again but relating nontheless..

This is for me, just so I know how I felt on the 20th July 2011.

After receiving that email, it was like I had a glimpse of what my future would potentially be like.

1/08/11 (MON) Time: 0830-1630

Program: Report Duty to HC

Venue: MAA, Kelana Jaya

It would be living by schedules because I wouldn't know where you'd be tomorrow, the day after or three days down the road and I'd need to constantly refer to the timetable to find out where you are.  How will I let you know if I missed a step down the stairs, fell and ended up in the hospital? Will we ever get to take that long extended holiday together? Would you be there to hold my hand when I am screaming in pain while bringing life into this world? In whose arms you'd be in on Thursday and in which foreign country only to return to be in mine on Saturday and me, being nonethe wiser.

If you were freaking out about the call back after being on holiday for 8 months, know that I'm freaking out because I don't know what to expect on what you are going to be like when you are being put under pressure. I have only known the carefree you and I forsee a tough road ahead.

I am qouting one of your many many msgs: "You just came into my life recently so in time you will be the one taking over their job of shaping me. They've set the bar pretty high though :D (this is refering to his friends) so would you rather me be prince charming in cinderella or in sleeping beauty or do you rather I be clark kent of peter parker? But one thing for sure, behind all of these guys, there is a woman backing them up. Would you like to be my pillar of strength?"

I only just realised what a tall order that is, and I don't just mean tall or even venti because this is a grande sized cup for sure. It's only the beginning sayang. May we continuing high-fiving for many more months to come because yes, aku mau jadi tiang kekuatanmu.

 

Monday, October 12, 2009

love letter for nobody

by the count


i woke up today thinking about you.
how long has it been for you?
for me its been quite a couple of months.
i'm not a believer of love at first sight, but you prove me wrong.
i fell in love with you the very first time i laid an eye on you.
how did you do it?
was it your eyes?
your smile?
or maybe your pretty face.

did i ever tell you how beautiful you are?
do you dream of me too?

i know how hurt you were when i told you i wont die for you
believe me it's true
coz i always wanted to stay alive for you.

though i will always be there to love you and take care of you
but i cant promise that i will always have the wisdom to understand you
no matter what, i will stand right before you with firm conviction.

it scares me every time i think of you
it scares me more when i try to close my eyes
it drives me insane when the world is at its darkest
coz i know your coming close

why are you there when everything else is gone?
why would you chose to talk to me when im in coma?
from which dimension are you from?
are you an angel?
an immortal sent down from heaven to teach us mortals what beauty really is?

even with all this crazy stuff i have in mind
i still would like to see you
and even if you're just a dream
it makes me complete to know that i will always wake up with you.

A Love Letter to No One

Contributed by Cassander

Dearest ________________, A secret admirer. That's what they say, isn't it? I have been secretive, until now, and I suppose I do admire you, but that's only when your back is turned. 30 minutes a day�that's how long I get to admire you, and then it's back to the 23 � hours of wretched, seething love. Do I love you when you are next to me? A little. But not as much as when we are separated�by traffic and daily planners and radio waves and the denizens of our lives�no, not as much as I love you when your only incarnation is in my mind, your smile demands mental replay and your body's attitude and altitude insist on being remeasured and firmly memorized. The trap that catches my dreams...but there is no permanence to dreams. They leave no evidence, not like you really would. A strand of long, dark hair on the pillowcase, a fingerprint on the countertop, even a blown kiss would have more mass than a dream. But what else can one do when they love someone so much? No, there it is again. That word, love, used incorrectly. Not appropriate for my situation. It takes two to love. Two people playing simultaneous roles as Lover & Beloved. Two people sharing space and air and radiating heat and intentions. Not us, however. Instead of two, we have one and one. One of us is alone and hateful to the world for being so crowded, this city for being so wide and having so many places to hide (I don't even know where you live! Where are you right now? A coffee shop wrapped in a scarf and leaning as I've seen you do, intently over a paperback? A friend's apartment calling to her from the hallway? In your own home, privately clenching and releasing your own white toes?) And the other is accompanied everywhere by a vanilla scent, long lashes, and refracted light. You have your tricks, I'm sure, of hiding this or that blemish or accentuating your eyes, but I know that if it was all washed away or stripped what would remain would be exceptionally fine, bright, and smooth. Have I hit upon it? The one dominant characteristic of yours that causes you to rule my thoughts? I believe it is: I haven't touched you, but I know you are smooth like a stone fold of a Michelangelo statue, smooth like the lightly packed sand of an Asiatic shore, smooth like the cheek of god. Maybe that's what really tempted me: the thought of touching something so finely crafted, so treacherously inviting, something so close to perfect that it makes me shudder to even be around you for fear that through some mishap I'll mar or brand you. But I won't. I have faith in that notion. I could never wear down the elemental beauty of your skin even with my raw lips and sawdust hands, not even with the thousand caresses I hope to make possible. Yes, I want to make it happen. No longer content to be secret or only admiring, I am baring all. But it's not something I can will into existence or bribe a god for�I have to just hope that it's possible that you would want the same thing I want: an inescapable love. I want to find you in the morning's rays, I want to watch your leg emerge from behind the shower curtain, I want you to sit on my knee at parties so that everyone knows. I don't want to waste time with flirting; I want to leap headfirst into a shared mesmerization, an unflinching fascination between us two. I want to greedily hoard all of your secrets and wishes, I want to peel the skin off your back after you've been sunburned, I want to touch your body in the places that push against the seams and stretches fabric, I want to unclasp and untie and loosen everything that you are until it can breathe and exist freely in my presence. I want to push my face into your neck and sleep skin to skin. I want an unstoppable love with you. I want a love that can resist black holes and nuclear war. I want a love that spans decades and becomes an iconic phenomenon that is printed on T-shirts and coffee mugs. I want a love so powerful that glass breaks around us as we walk, a romance so intense that others can't even look directly at us without going blind. I want you and I to feel interminably enraptured, to be so fierce that no one will ever love again, that love will be outlawed because of its dangerous nature, that writers will put down their pens and brushes will hit the floor as artists open their hands�because neither the poets nor the painters, neither the composers nor the moviemakers are compelled or able to convey what we are. I want loving you to sustain me instead of bread and water, and I want loving you to kill me, to collapse my heart when I am older than old and the world has been laid to waste by the pulsing shockwaves of our kisses. I want you, _____________. So write, so call, so contact me in any way. Don't delay unless delaying will make you even more passionate about our first encounter. I have not even folded this paper, and I am already impatient for your response, for your touches and clenches and exhalations... Respond to me, and I will respond to you. Until that charged moment, I remain, Yours, ____________

m.e.e.n.a~beauti-full change~ says:

I suspect that, under that cynical shell, you're at heart a sentimentalist.

|| Lin || says:

i thought that applies for you

|| Lin || says:

am i that cynical?

m.e.e.n.a~beauti-full change~ says:

u

m.e.e.n.a~beauti-full change~ says:

nah...

m.e.e.n.a~beauti-full change~ says:

ur just delayed screeningm.e.e.n.a~beauti-full change~ says:

delayed screening

m.e.e.n.a~beauti-full change~ says:

ppl wait to watch it

m.e.e.n.a~beauti-full change~ says:

but it comes out late

Oh che, this one is for you because it's just way too long to type on email.

So the other day (and when I say other day, I meant like five weeks ago) after completing the mission of the day; job hunting and grocery shopping at the nearby shopping complex, I was patiently waiting at the bus stop to get me home to campus.

Scenario went like this:

(windy and gloomy weather)

(me sitting alone at the bus stop, hands tucked in pocket, looking dreadful in my jumper and hair pulled back)

(wrinkly old man walks up to the bus stop and stands by the bus time table)

(some time passes by)

Old man: You waiting for 98?
Me: Yes?
OM: well, it's coming now (points to bus)
Me: Oh! Thanks! (gets up to see that the bus is still waaaay down the street) internal monologue: damn this old dude has got some kick-ass eyesight. I can't even see the bus number! (smiles at kind old man)
OM: Can I follow you?
Me: Sure..... internal monologue: he means get on the same bus as me right? Poor thing (smiles at kind old man)

(short pause)

OM: You know I have lots of money. So you like money?
Me: internal monologue: WT@#%$&/!?!?? (slowly steps away from "kind" old man)
OM: Yeah... you like money? I have.
Me: (steps even further away from "kind" old man) (nervous grin)
OM: (Probably sensing I'm freaked out) Oh... I didn't think you'd be interested.
Me: Internal monologue: Bus! Bus! Where is that freaking bus!??!

(waits for what seems like eternity)

(bus pulls up)

(I let him get on first and then practically run to the back of the bus)

Me: Internal monologue: Oh gawd... don't let him sit next to me.

-----------------

He doesn't and he proceeds to get off at the next stop not before smiling at me.

Eew.

Dreaming of --> Mad World by Gary Jules <--


"If we were a series, we would be like those people on Home and Away. Too much drama la!" Repeat in French accent.

I don't care what anyone says. Culture clash and culture differences; they don't exist. We all think alike, the same exact situations, conflict and drama just different actors. Repeat in Malaysian accent.

"It surpases all boundaries". We all share the same stage, directed by one. Unfortunately, it is the same one holding us back. Repeat in Australian accent.

A one track mind. By just saying one word, you got me. Repeat in American accent.

"If you want to join our cult, you have to promise to reach for your dreams" Repeat over and over again.

Dreaming of --> Love, Sex & Magic by Ciara feat. Justin Timberlake <--


The click-clack of high heels banging against the brick pavement and shrieks of laughter fill the cold night air. Usually more than one; always indicating a bevy of girls heading for a night out. All dressed up with makeup and their best perfume on.

In the distance I hear the sounds of ringing sirens cutting through the stillness.  Yet another police car making its way to yet another incident on a Saturday night in WA. No police turned up when we needed them.

The wind is howling gently but the loud drunkards shout cuss words at each other. Almost always ending with a loud laugh though. All in good faith I hope.

In the next room, I can make out the gentle whispers of sweet talk between two lovers. In a moment or two, I would need to put my headphones on for the sounds they make will probably make you blush.

The beep followed by a vibrating buzz from my phone tells me that I have another message. What is my flatmate doing messaging me on a legendary night out, I don't know? It must be those trains which take forever.

I thought the songs of the club would remain thumping in my head forever.  I guess it will be a while before I can hear it for myself again. For that's where it will remain.

The sounds in my head.