Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.
- Oscar Wilde
Thursday, 4 November 2010
Lilac Man
He stepped out of the train, announcing his grand arrival with his vibrant lilac jacket and matching pants, his white poodle trotting closely in sync at his heels. Head held up high, he gazed through his black thick-framed glasses at the road straight ahead, as if looking for something but already knowing that it was not there. He reached for his slick wallet in his pocket and meticulously placed it at the Myki sensor for a few moments, whilst his shiny ring sparkled on his left hand.
He glided out to the side of the road where the zebra crossing was. His slick hair was carefully combed backwards, leaving no strand of hair astray. He looked right; he looked left. All the time, the white poodle was obediently sitting down at his feet. In proxmity close enough to declare their master-dog status, but not too close to leave any fur on his newly-shined black and white - and pointed - Italian leather shoes. When it was time to cross, master and dog floated across the crossing to the other side, turning all heads towards the lilac aura in doing so.
Take care.
He glided out to the side of the road where the zebra crossing was. His slick hair was carefully combed backwards, leaving no strand of hair astray. He looked right; he looked left. All the time, the white poodle was obediently sitting down at his feet. In proxmity close enough to declare their master-dog status, but not too close to leave any fur on his newly-shined black and white - and pointed - Italian leather shoes. When it was time to cross, master and dog floated across the crossing to the other side, turning all heads towards the lilac aura in doing so.
Take care.
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
Curse
I want you to know that I don't think I'll ever be able to love again.
It was the single most painful thing that someone had ever said to her. It hurt at the time, it hurt more after the fact. In all its irony, he was the one who'd moved on with his life, whilst she - the confident one who'd sailed to faraway lands years ago - couldn't find the strength within herself to forgive. To forgive herself. After many restless days and nights, the concept seemed so silly to begin with because in the whole scheme of thigns, this was so punitive. So trivial. But everytime she saw him or thought she saw him, her heart still sank ever so slightly.
Help me let go. Truly.
Take care.
It was the single most painful thing that someone had ever said to her. It hurt at the time, it hurt more after the fact. In all its irony, he was the one who'd moved on with his life, whilst she - the confident one who'd sailed to faraway lands years ago - couldn't find the strength within herself to forgive. To forgive herself. After many restless days and nights, the concept seemed so silly to begin with because in the whole scheme of thigns, this was so punitive. So trivial. But everytime she saw him or thought she saw him, her heart still sank ever so slightly.
Help me let go. Truly.
Take care.
Monday, 1 November 2010
Moment of truth
"You existential little shit," came the abrupt call of how-do-you-do.
She's a mess she's a mess she's a mess she's a mess, Lady Gaga spat.
Enough talking and resoluting. I have no idea how I've gotten to this point, but I'm giving myself no other choice than to face my fears. So here goes:
I'm 65 kgs. Yes, vomit blood eat shit, I'm a heavy blob of a girl. I feel disgusted and embarrassed by how I've allowed myself to come this far despite the constant intention to keep fit and healthy and look the slightest bit confident in myself. I look shit and I feel shit, which has the most nightmarish compounding effect that plays evil games in my mind.
A few days whilst at Borders, I saw an old flame. When I say old, I mean, 11 years ago. He used to be the head boy at my school, and like any other teenage boppy girl with nothing to lose, I had the biggest crush on him. I became a prefect. I taught him music. I went to his house. I found every excuse I could to follow my brother to his brother's house. 11 years on, many countries away, I bump into him and all I could do was lower my head. In embarrassment. Not knowing what else to do to stop him from hardly recognising me.
But life is so much more precious than that, isn't it? I mean, I'm tired of hiding beneath baggy and daggy clothes, tired of pretending to be so absorbed in my work that I can't take better care of myself. It's childish and downright stupid. I want to feel proud of myself once again. Be the person that I know is inside.
Therefore, I have given myself a year. A year to lose 10 kgs. It's going to take every ounce of determination in me that I can muster, but I will squeeze everything out of myself if that's what it takes.
Because I want to raise my head again and say, How d'you do?
Take care.
She's a mess she's a mess she's a mess she's a mess, Lady Gaga spat.
Enough talking and resoluting. I have no idea how I've gotten to this point, but I'm giving myself no other choice than to face my fears. So here goes:
I'm 65 kgs. Yes, vomit blood eat shit, I'm a heavy blob of a girl. I feel disgusted and embarrassed by how I've allowed myself to come this far despite the constant intention to keep fit and healthy and look the slightest bit confident in myself. I look shit and I feel shit, which has the most nightmarish compounding effect that plays evil games in my mind.
A few days whilst at Borders, I saw an old flame. When I say old, I mean, 11 years ago. He used to be the head boy at my school, and like any other teenage boppy girl with nothing to lose, I had the biggest crush on him. I became a prefect. I taught him music. I went to his house. I found every excuse I could to follow my brother to his brother's house. 11 years on, many countries away, I bump into him and all I could do was lower my head. In embarrassment. Not knowing what else to do to stop him from hardly recognising me.
But life is so much more precious than that, isn't it? I mean, I'm tired of hiding beneath baggy and daggy clothes, tired of pretending to be so absorbed in my work that I can't take better care of myself. It's childish and downright stupid. I want to feel proud of myself once again. Be the person that I know is inside.
Therefore, I have given myself a year. A year to lose 10 kgs. It's going to take every ounce of determination in me that I can muster, but I will squeeze everything out of myself if that's what it takes.
Because I want to raise my head again and say, How d'you do?
Take care.
Two trains, seemingly alike. In all but the directions in which they were traveling. The movements so sleek and smooth, one could hardly feel the rails. They swayed. From left to right. From right to left. Gently, subtlely, like a lullaby.
She looked up from her book to gaze out the window. He looked up from his book to gaze out the window.
And for a millisecond, their eyes met. Two pairs of eyes, both glazed and dreamy. In momentary sync, they kept their eyes locked on each other whilst the trains carried them on a magic carpet up and above the clouds.
She looked up from her book to gaze out the window. He looked up from his book to gaze out the window.
And for a millisecond, their eyes met. Two pairs of eyes, both glazed and dreamy. In momentary sync, they kept their eyes locked on each other whilst the trains carried them on a magic carpet up and above the clouds.
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