Sideways and Beneath

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ShrtTrmMmry
What the FUCK! is wrong with me!
Through some quirk or ill-fated decision, I came across work / pieces / websites / artsites I used to spend my time on. It just registered to me so vividly why they exist and I'm screaming at myself trying to realize just how I came to forget them!

How the HADES!

RecollecTion
It seems like such a stupid thing, probably for many of you, how I came to not register this thing. I totally forgot I did artwork for the artsite "Yaoi Gallery", same goes for my participation on forums for Muscle Growth Stories and Artwork.
What happened to me! ? !

And I have a Ark's load of artwork to catch up with and do!

Stink of Necessity
Since I started this new job.
I ... fuck, I ... just forgot about all the other things I chose to be active in.
Perhaps I realized them, maybe I knew about them, but it seems so fleeting. Like I lied to myself again and again.
And only now I realize just how important they are to me.

FUCK!
I hate rotating priorities.

Creative Juices
So the cont is several artpieces for Y-Gallery, 1 long time owed piece in DA, catching up with posts in MGForums | damn damn damn ...

And where I am wondering where I've slipped to.

ReincarNation
Do I re-write my entire memory, life, priority and behaviour with every new environment I settle into. There's something wrong with me for sure.
Now what will happen if I choose to move out.
Will I forget many more things, or brush them to my subconscious to torment myself.

---

As clear as night, glass like stone.

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Clarity
Is being able to find clarity of thought and mind a good thing? Are choices any easier, or do they simply make our justifications for our actions stronger?

Are we blinder still for our want of greater clarity?

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Vitreous
Do we always borrow strength as an illusion? As we say, it makes us stronger, is it only a fragile reasoning, an illusion of words and false inspiration to bolster ourselves?
If we grow stronger from that which does not kill us, do we not only have that one chance?

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Shimmering Mirage
How far should I go to believe my own lies? How soon should my beliefs hang on to these things beond my grasp? How does reaching for the stars, the beyond help me find my roots, always looking up?
Am I a better person because I say so, or by someone's spproval? When?


ps: Today's posting is uhmmm, somewhat random. Just trying to string some words together as a free-form practise. Nothing really emo about it actually. But I did realize something as I wrote it, and as I do, I will do more research on it. I may be having Night Terrors.

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Prose

My insignicant thoughts, strangely, define me.
My conscious actions are without real pride or conviction because they can be waived by neither.
My wishes are extensions of a fantasy I use as a lifeline to life.
My patience is as tolerant as my needs need to be.
My dance mocks my living movements.
My song is critical to my voice.
And I am left with myself. this way.
Every moment of my life, till the last bright light burns into my cornea.

Butter Slippers

Kowloon Yellow
---

The Orient
I abhor being asked what makes me chinese. I don't know the first way to answer that. The generic -easy-to-back-out-of way is to say 'My culture'.
But I lie.
Its not mine - not to claim anyways. I was born into it. I don't defend it, nor do I valiantly champion or embrace it lovingly as a lover. I think few of us do, unless we have a job at the Chinese Cultural Centre (C3) and their ilk.
So there - I don't know what it is to be chinese besides culture and general variant tone for asiatic skin hues between light to dark on the nutmeg'gy side.
*groan*
I should be disinherited by the ancestors.

Shortly After
I'm slowly preparing for this Saturday. I'm also trying to time myself, so I don't go over hte recommended 10 - 15 minutes. But you know 'artistes' - we'll take all the time we can. All 15 minutes of it! Of course I have, on some decent authority there are those who preceed me, who have taken a much more gravious period.
(evil laughter insert)
So yes, let's plan for my '15' minutes, shall we?

---

Prose

I wonder if one day or even one night, some late dark lonely night, if I would be a meal.
For an alien.
Like myself, having lunch in an hour.
Or dinner by the diner tonight.
I wonder if I would be an appetiser, an entree or, I shudder in glee to think, dessert.
Would I be slushy, or crunchy and sweet, maybe sour to the palate.
Won't you wonder with me?

Imago with her children green

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Flightpath
"The trajectory of a moving projectile mass relative to a fixed reference."
"The precise route taken or due to be taken through the air"

Shoudln't we all have had it this easy?

Destiny, karma, fate
"The inevitable or necessary fate to which a particular person or thing is destined."

Do we really believe in this?

Wings of the Sea
I'm entranced by this memory sometimes. This early memory of watching an early piece of digital animation at its infancy back in the days. This story that seemed to capture every other moment in my past, future and present.

There's a clear bubble that hands in space someplace, and the globe is divided into two parts. The lower and upper half is segmented by a clear thin glass as well. Above, the birds fly free and in groups and families. Below, the fishes swim in clusters and much abandon.
But one inhabitant from each side seems to recognise a kinship.
And as close as they can veer to the glass bibble separation, you can see the exchange on wonder, awe and questions. They show each other things, like wings and fins and have flight/swim competitions but can never beyond that barrier.
To keep this short, the bird crashes down from on high to shatter the glass and the two worlds collide and intermingle.
But the concept, the visual, the memory of that world.
Its stays with me.
I think its been with me since I saw it back ... about 15 years ago, or maybe longer.

Sypnapsi
Never forget, I am told.
I see that message often, but I don't believe there are things to remember sometimes.

Focus
I have Jonathan Togo, Eric Szmanda, Sean Maher, Steve Bacic wallpaper looking back at me. I chose the more casual shots of them, unposed, smiling or caught in a moment. That sparkle in their eyes that say more than 'pose'.
Do I have that 'sparkle' ?
Do I relate to the world around me, or at least give something of a seeming? Is it a glamour?
Am I real relative to my environment?
Does the mirror show me to myself who I really am? Am I what I pretend to be?
Ask yourself.

---

Prose

I'm not sure I can do it, Grand Auntie.
I know some nights you listen and others you don't. Sometimes you even have a cloud over your eye and I pretty sure you really don't want to listen but I guess I'm just persistent then.

Tell me Grand Auntie - you seem so sure.
You have so many names, and you fulfill them all. Am I worthy of the one I have? Can I say with pride the name I was given, to live up to it?
I pray when you're silent. Though you are aloft on high, you are always my constant. It doesn't matter how many courtiers you entertain in the nights. It does not matter how high and far away you discern me with your critical white eye. I find security in you.

How are your cataracts?
Does it bother you, or blind you to my faults? Is that why I keep repeating them? Grand Auntie?

Tonight, I'm full of empty questions. I have to have my answers. I can no longer sleep without you touching my skin in the darkness. I can no longer tolerate the dark Uncle who scares me every night, in the middle and haunts me till dawn.
I think he see's me everywhere in the darkness. Even when I'm playing with my thoughts of drowning. I constantly search for you. I'm so far beneath you, I feel humbled by your distant grace, Grand Auntie.

Can you take me with you when I leave? I have no bags to pack. I'm a simple person, but with many complex thoughts. Maybe I'll be punished for having so many thoughts. I will take my pillow. I don't like neck aches when I wake up. But I suppose I'll always be sleeping in your palace.
Your cold white palace.
Tell me about where you live again, Grand Auntie.

Tonight, hold out your arms to me. Receive your dutiful child, when I return.
Tonight, Grand Auntie.
I come home.

Fireflies in Space

--------

Game Over
There's a strong desire to refresh.
To step back and take account for all the things that have come to pass. There's a fear holding me back as well. The monsters we left behind, the damning memories we intentionally left to be forgotten and worse still, the fact we will realize the parts of ourselves we always intended to hate.
So here I am.

Insti-gates
I'm going to re-evaluate my relationships.
Who are the people I surround myself with, who shape my life as I shape theirs. The perceptions, the outlook on life, the support. What gives, and what does not, and what takes ... too much or too little.
Do I stay true and loyal out of obligation, out of memory and childhood camaderie? Even if we are too far apart when standing back to back - what is there truly to hold on to?
Have I looked too far past those who could have been true friends to me, because I was too blindsided by bias and hearsay?
I ask now.
I am asking myself.
It'll take some time, perhaps. Maybe. It will take time. The rest of the year I give myself.
To be true.

Peace,
Serenity, Come unto me.

---

Prose

A heart wrapped in thorns as its often described.
Was my gift to the world.
As much a gift it was that was born unto me.
My words were never truer still
The gift of thorns around this heart.

The world owes us nothing
When we ask for much.
My aching black head is filled
With hate. the frozen scorn
Of the gift of thorns.

My mind has sunken into darkness
To where no saviour dare breach
The tears fall too slowly
Fill the cavern to swim above.
To the heart wrapped in thorns.

There's no forever,
to prolong this feeling.
There's no moment passing by, to save me.
Take this heart of mine,
this gift of thorns.

Celestium

---

What celestial choir do you resonate?

---

Boon of the Erth

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Red and blue
I'm travelling between the rivers of angry resentment and lethargic depression.
I feel like a shambling, unsteady bridge of twigs and mud, haloed by the impending glow from the waters below. I might crumble, fall and drown, swept away someplace.

Migration
The Canadian High Comission mailed a polite and well outlined (which is a nice gesture that I appreciate) letter to the house. Its was a soft way of rejecting my Brother's PR request and sponsorship to Canada. He was to go under my parents as a dependant.
I understand the costings he will incur, and if he made it - they would pay for his training, adaptation into society there (they have wonderful government social responsibility), and as I understand it, have someone to watch over him (social wroker) to check in on him occasionally.
I could be wrong, but it has to be better than here.
I don't see our government with the financial or social backing (blame the citizens partially), for handling the handicapped; physical and mental.

5 years we waited.
Year after year, as evalutation dates are pushed back for new reinstatement and reconsideration laws into Canada (due to pressure from the US a year after 9/11) to be more stringent. The tsanami catastrophe, as they are given precedent on applications first (they are socially conscious, which relfects this action) ...
And the money spent ...

Mirror
It might have been easier if I were in the family inclusion package for PR sponsorship. Even though my brother would have beem entered as a "burden on state", my qualification as a professional would have balanced things out.
But no.
The delays meant I was well over 25, and already working. It wou;d have to be me as under 21 to be claimed as a dependant or even as long as I was still studying - but I couldn't just keep studying.
Now to begin again?
If he were to apply under me now, it would be weird c oz my parents are still alive and he's not a dependant on me, until something happens to my parents. And ... like that's a better choice.
We can appeal - but unless we are under more dire straits, it would change little.

Fuck.
fuck the shitty damn shit ass fucking twat machine crank pussy whacker shithole wonder ass-licking crackwhore fuck.
And I say that in the quietest, mildest way I can.

---

Prose

When Tide told Time,
he could not wait.
Time obliged and followed.
I was left behind.
Suffering from the cold void.
The winds of abandonment.

There were no snakes
that crawled in temptation.
No ladders to lend their weight.
Bleak, laughable silence.
I thought it would last.

Writers who read, make readers of the word.

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Fact of Pride
The Violet Quill

In its narrowest sense, the Violet (or Lavender) Quill was simply a circle of gay male writers in Manhattan who met a few times in 1980 and 1981 to read to one another from their works in progress. In a much larger sense, however, the Violet Quill commands interest because this group of friends and rivals--Christopher Cox, Robert Ferro, Michael Grumley, Andrew Holleran, Felice Picano, Edmund White, and George Whitmore--helped create the post-Stonewall renaissance of American gay male writing.

The members of the Violet Quill were quite different from one another and did not consciously constitute a "school," but collectively and individually they placed homosexuality at the very center of their literary visions.

As David Bergman has observed, they "shared several impulses: a desire to write works that reflected their gay experiences, and specifically, autobiographical fiction; a desire to write for gay readers without having to explain their point of view to shocked and unknowing heterosexual readers; and finally, a desire to write . . . in a selection of the language really used by gay men."

In retrospect, they may be seen as pioneers in the struggle to create a literature that reflected the social revolution wrought by the Stonewall uprising. Their works chronicle both the headiness of the early years of gay liberation and the tragedy of the AIDS epidemic, to which four of the seven have succumbed.- Claude J. Summers.This Entry Copyright © 1995, 2002 New England Publishing Associates. www.glbtq.com/literature/violetquill.html

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... because we should all write with such passion, want and exploration. We should all be driven by ourselves and the world around us. Because we have to speak, to say and to write.
- me

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The imagination imitates. It is the critical spirit that creates.
- Oscar Wilde

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GAY PRIDE MONTH 2007

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Gary Pride Month: 2007

(in America, anyways)

Video
Yes, I will be attempting to make, the, you know, uhm, video blog thingies.
Youtube.
Yea.
Well, at least for this Gay Pride month to say: WOOHOO!
---

Prose
This month after May
In America, they say
Its all month, all day
Be merry and well, gay.

I celebrate my diversity
I sleep with all colours
I know with some certainty
I love creamy white showers.

Judge me not, have some pride
We are greater united
We change trends and the tide
We're gay, I'm excited.

So this month, this June
I proclaim with clarity
Watch out, it'll be soon
I'm on the loose, I'm Gary.
---

Battalion of Words

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The Queen of War is Silent
The way it always is.

Readings
Am I on the list for Seksan House this June?
I don't know. I'll ask in a couple more days.
... But there's an Open Mic at MPH Bangsar Village II. saturday, this. 3.oo PM, as I rush to work. 2-3 minutes, and I'm fretting over what to read. Prose or Poetry ... eep. I actually have prepared material, unlike my other 2 open mic experiences (thanks Pat and Priya!).

And its free admission, which means kids might be there.
And its under KLua - Could I use offensive vocabulary? I don't know. But if its to be an exploration of open words and tunes, should I not be censored for content because of sensitive language? How about content? Can I EMO much?
Sharanya will be there.
Hmmm's.
She's a feature of the event, so is Accolade Niccolade.

i'm not even sure I can leave work soon enough and sign up 45 minutes before event showtime.

Running Start
Trying to get a running start on things. i've slowed down.
Again.
Must ... run ... faster ... and catch up before I'm left way behind again.

Food
I feel like Canoli.
Eating Canoli ... mmmHmmm ...
I went for spicy Pan Mee the other day which I didn't end up thinking or tasting the chilli-ness of it, but my stomache did. For 2 days.
Bah.
mmmHmmm Canoli.


---

Prose
Imperfection is sublime and its stands to prove our existence.

---

My Blonde Days

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Hair Raising
It seems those stray hairs that fall from my head onto the white k'board are black. I bomb-blonded myself up to whole way with blonder hi-lights and yet Black hair tips down softly.
Are the blondes ostracizing and sending the brunette strands off the ledge?
Ouchies.

Crime and Prejudice
I want to look good. I'm pretty sure everyone does but I'm not a mind-reader (as someone I know is fond of saying).
But would you look good for just a small group of people which you find attractive or just want to generically appeal to the masses.
I'm not sure what my choice is. We all know the advantages of looking gorgeous or belonging to the modeloid circle is like, we all have Very attractive friends somewhere in our social reportoire and how well it influences their daily in most aspects.
But is it to a few choice ones (if you could chose to be attractive to those you are attracted to), or to the masses (basically good enough for runway or TV soaps).
And as much as I am inundated by the images, I'd like to slyfully believe I can be one of them one day. The plastic pod people.
Through the magic of surgery, of the plastuc variety, what else.

Hours.
I want more hours in a day.
Day AND night.

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Prose

There's whistling in my head.
_____phwit.
________phwit.
__________Lost at the edge of my wits.
___phwit!
So the adder can climb the ladder,
With instructions of mother Eve.
_____Lay the tales
_____Of children still
___phwit.
cold, in the graves of imagination.
phwit!
Adrift the captain said.
To which the crocodile replied, "Tea for two".
And he caused much mirth when
_____He blew.
________phwit
___________phwit.
That'll do, that will do.
When will the holes in my head.
Whistling holes in my head.
_____phwit.
Stop.

Estrangelito

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Visual update
Yea, seems like I'm using the inbubilt cam on the ocmputer and taking ONE picture per week since I've been at my new job. On week 5 now.
Starting from 1st week: Yea, the Initial Cool hoodie look - I'm so straight (muahahaha!)
2nd week: I love this shirt!, its so real and its not false advertising, so do people laugh?
3rd week: Yessirree, this is mah trucker look, ... spottle spitt ... Ah mhean mah red-neck hicksville trucker looks.
4th week: Woo! Gotta recent haircut and COLOUR and Highlights! (note the Gingy cushion! so postmodern!)

Yea, my good friends tell me all sorts of things.
One says me looks like a trucker TWINK for some porn production.
Another says the new hilights makes me so ... well Yaoi-esque pornage material.
WTF!
But occasionally, when I just chill and wear me own chill-out clothes, I look like some street punk straight dude.
I'm never gonna listen to my friends.
Ever.
I'll dress how I like and fuck them (well the cutes ones) - and in the nicest way possible :D (much hugs), they can comment all they like :p
This half of the year, its the "Love myself rule" - both out and in the bedroom (twice a day!)

Superficial
Yes, this post is vapid.
Indulge ... like stcky hershey's on hot skin, preferably without perspiration.

Lucky
I suppose. That my brother is still pretty healthy considering the heart condition. I suppose, because I don't get kicked out as often as maybe I should be or want to. I suppose I'm still in one piece and pretty happy at the size, girth and length of my erect penis. I suppose, lucky coz only you special few get to see it anyways.

---

Prose
This shadow play I saw recently used a word I learned to love..
Irreverence.
From the shadows in the play and from my past, I heard the word.
Irreverence.
Tongue twister the first time on my lips and out my mouth.
Irreverence.
It demanded mine, the word.
Like age, it would come, fast or slow dealt with by my perception by inevitable, inexcusable Irreverence.

Moltivation and Sulivation

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The Devils I tells ya
Its youtube.
You know it is! I think I've wasted a half day at work, scouring youtube, linking from intuhresting to intuhresting video clip like a spidey with new web fluid for hours.
Its the Devil, and you can't lie to me! You know itsa true! Like the old A-HA song!

Astro Animax
I have 5 more hours to complete the damn 30-40 minutes anime script. Around 18 pages already, with a little more to go and a lotta more s tory to wrappa up. Yea, I know ... double spacing will ROCK the pages to about double so I'll make the qualification of an approximate 30 - 40 pages.
Just don't fuck up the entry, or past the entry date.

Workout
I've actually been seeing some movtivatonal muscle videos. Wow ... I really do want to get back into the gym, and I know that much coz I've already been doing push-ups' nearly everyday at home. Just quick reps, but nothing too resisting. It helps that I have heavy bones and I weigha lot for my slim build. Yea, the weight thing shocks a few other friends too.
At 5' 8", I'm about 65 kg and I'm slim. Like Slim Jim type.
And I have MUSKELS on my chest, small ones, but they be muskels!
YES!

Universal.
And yes, I'm damned happy there were a number of asians grabbing awards on Ms. Universe night from 2 in the top 5, and for Ms Congeniality, and Most Photogenic.
Woot!
Screw the rest of you who don't get it.
And I do think Ms USA had good poise and grace to recover after the flat bum fall she had in the evening gowm portion. Just fire that dress designer.

---
Prose

Silly willy
are the kinds I like.
They're hard nuts to crack.
just the way I like them.

The world gone square

--------

Delusions
Just when you think you're doing someone a favour and I think I did a pretty darn good job on the concept and poster, ... its not what they want. Shit.
Well, be a little clearer in the initial brief then. Really. Its helps.
It may not go a long way, but it'll add a few more hours to your rapidly dwindling time on earth.
No, really.

More delusions
Just when you think its sound advice, it really has no place in the bigger picture.
"Dont assume, it makes an ass of you and me". - sounds like a pretty decent piece of drivel, like any of Murphy's laws; but its flawed. No professional jon doesnt rely on certain assumptions, large or small.
You have to give a guess, an estimate before you can spread the date across. You have to create a range (thats an estimate mostly) before deciding it its close enough to the results YOU were looking for.
You have to 'psychically' link on the other-awareness of your clients, and KNOW what they're talking about.
Oh gosh, you didn't know that?
You should have assumed.
And then we'll all get some ass.
Hopefully me.

Remarkably snails pace
There's still a lot of my plate.
Professionally speaking, I guess I'm catching up. Work-wise and all.
Personally, art-wise ... I'm not doing so good. While I do know I have to get to it. There's so much going on at work and outside ... it ... well, no one said it was easy, no?
Its a personal ethic I suppose. My work ethic is healthy ... as far as I know, but my personal art ethics fluctuate at best. Shit, there's still so much to do.
I don't even know if finance comes into it.
Would I do / finish / accomplish the deed sooner if I knew I was paid? Should it fit into the equation? Would it matter?

Birthday Boys
Was at Zamir's birthday Karaoke bash last week.
Finally chatted a few momoments with Ezra. Yea, only reason I remember the name is coz of the band 'Better than Ezra'. Cool.
Anyways, although I think I was somewhat drunk off my ass (and being apparently anti-social since I didn't know anyone there ... and was drinking off my ass) - I remember him chatting with me.
Oh my .... I know his cousin Rafael. Raf is a decent and cool guy who's in Labuan working now. Totally straight.
This Ezra dude, he's totally straight acting as far as I'm concerned ... ok, to the point, the MOST straight-perceived behaviour in the room.
What a hottie!
Too durnk to take home numbers.
But I havent forgotten, ... I am taking a break from relationships. I'm totally open to friends still, but the occiasional hot hook-ups and stuff, but nothing dedicated or committed. I'm stil tryign to focus on improving myself this year. And I'm still no saint of chasity.

Starcraft 2 is out soon enough, and Transformers the movie is coming out as well.
Geekdom is sure to rear its dorky head soon.
Woo hoo!

---

Prose

I feel absolutely crass.
Crude and disillusioned by my own procrastination. But I'll learn to separate myself. Divide in the middle the indecision - the misfortune of not knowing the difference between excuse and reason. Between the tenous gap of convenience and suffocating time restraints.
I could wish to be a bird.
For the concept of freedom, the mawing depth of reality tells me that a bird is simply a bird, uncomplicated and mostly unrewarding in its peril without fortuitious forethought.
I could wish to be a fish, succulent and a future on a chef's palate ... maybe not.
I could fill my pillow with wishes and sleep on them for nights onward to end and wake in disappointment every morning, rivalling and marvelling the ocean blue expanse of desparation and a sense of quiet horror.
There is humour somwhere.
I might find it, or you may have to help me look.
Either way, its going to taste bile I know.
Life does that, spice the world in bile and bitterness - this aging thing, is not an antidote to youth. Its a poison, a necessary one as they call it.
Suck it up, I tell myself.
And suck hard.
My lips will savour nothing else.

Its raining inside

-----

City bred
I grew up by the beach everyday. And I suppose on some level, I should feel this association to beach living - everyone says they connect with their childhood memories best. If nothing else, you see the wonder and fascination in most people (foreigners and locals alike) concerning this place where sea meets the shore, land has its public rondeaveau with the waters.
But I feel drawn to the cities.
It feels natural.
Even when I'm alone.

Last night
In the rain.
In my bed.
I wept for David. Last night as I lay down to sleep, I thought of love and he came to mind. I guess you never really forget your first love. He's been imbibed so deeply inside me, I know that sometimes, no matter how much I am open-minded and acceptable to every new person and quirks they bring ... i should never compare with the first.
But I know on some level, I am looking for that spark again.
The qualities in a man I had loved, and I'm searching for that again.
Is it unfair to those later on, perhaps ... or maybe I just know what right for me.
I prayed for him, for his happiness, for someone to take care of him and for them to love him just as I still do. Fondly.

Now
I am working on myself now. I cannot ponder on who I wish to be with or get 'into the game'. I have to work on myself first. I should exhibit and practise the principles in myself before searching for them.
But I've heard we often seek the qualities we also don't have in another person. So if I instill the qualities I want in a man in myself, then what do I look for later? Maybe something new, something ... to make me grow beyond. I don't know.
I have to try.
I work from within.
---

My Magic Mana Colour

Courtesy of WoTC Magic: The Gathering
---

Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.

Serpents & Stairways

----

Serpents
Quintessentially mine.
My doubt, irrationalities and quirks. I must remind myself that there's no one that can deal with this for me. I can't share them, I cannot relate them to anyone. Its so solitary and lonely, and it forces me to face that there are shadows that I only cast that no one else can see.
Like everything else in life, its never falls direct. It will always veil itself in subterfuge even when its blatant and crude.
It consumes moments and prolongs torment, but part of me feels its necessary. Maybe it lets me handle anything lesser later. Maybe it makes me stronger.

Stairways
The theory of no pain, no gain is a weird one. Ive heard it glibly used, but I dont know if it holds any merit. Does it only apply to more physically adaptive actions? Should it?
It isn't the point, maybe.
A reminder that we are mortal or that we can always be better than who we are by exposing and feeling our own vulnerabilities and weaknesses. I want to embrace that notion that we are always better than we believe and that we can always be more noble in our pursuit of happiness and self-improvements. My progress has to be recognised by me.
---

Prose

Luck is a man.
He is silent.
Luck is my man.
He is willful and elusive.
Luck is evocative.
He allures and seduces me.
Fuck you, luck.
I want to.
Or you to me.
Or I will wait.
Or you shall abandon me.
Luck is a man.

Ill-futed serpents

---

Ill
I think I’m getting ill. I can’t be sure, but it certainly feels that way.
I don’t think I know what brought it on.
I don’t even know if its … completely psychological even or wether its stress-related or compounding that with ‘age catching up’ with me and … and … fuck. I don’t know.
Upset tummy
Yea, its like that a bit.
Basically I’ve been feeling like I’ve been over eating coz most times after meals, I feel like puking and I occasionally do have some coming out but I quickly swallow the little bit in and forget about it. I’ve also been eating smaller portions … and as some friends have witnessed, chosen a lot less fried, spicy and oily food if I can help it.
And yet, I shit like I should have puked it out.
Sorry for the visual, but it’s the best equivalent I can find now.

Tempted
Every now and then, I think there’s something about relationships I’ve totally missed on the mark. Then I remind myself, I’m gonna take the next 6 months to work on myself. At least, on some part of my personal like that IS within my control and isn’t fraught with indecision.
It’ll help me face and accept the things I cannot change.

Loans
I really hope my ex-boss can help collect my pay slips and proof of pay for my last few months of service. I need that to get my car loan.
Iswara …. do they come in shocking purple?
Pretty please, with sugar on top!

Reminders
Sometimes, some things come back and remind about just how much shit you left in the past. That’s when it hits you and … well, it becomes another grueling test of character. And you question whether it’ll be worth it in the end.
But still we try, I guess. Perhaps that’s when I’ll learn about faith.
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Prose

Coils of the Gorgon
in my slumber
Slithering thoughts of malcontent
My name on the sibilant tongues.

Stone gargoyles
Dancing for eternity
Locked in embrace in sync
With the demons of time.

I sold my soul to you
You repudiated it
I wish the sins of the Styx upon you
My last prayer to the bones of death.

Meek Inheritance

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Rain
Maybe it is the shifting chills and gray blue ambience thats settled into my field of vision this morning. So I thought, let's compound the feeling with a little but of Tori Amos 'Tales of a Librarian'.
Mellow sounds too heavy, dreamy; too wistful. I think I'm somewhere between grounded and surreal. I can't place my finger on it but its a familiar feeling. Its unfortunate I've not explored it more before. I've little chance to immerse and consider it at work, but I can ... allow it to happen.
Which it is ...

Because it happens
Thats what I told a good friend last night.
If it looks like I should have taken another way, made the 'other' decision, I'll remind myself that there was something that lead me the way it was.
Just because.
And I have to believe it.

Parlor Spider
Spiderman3 was so promising and started off great & the build-up was great with the background and intertwining storylines. Until of course 70 % into the movie, the dialogue got cheesier and the dramatic 'acting' scenes became forced tear-jerkers. The convoluted way of tying up the end matched with god awful dialogue was really the waste.
It started so well .... but I guess its still redeemable if you can disregard the closeup-face-I'm-gonne-cry-again shots and inane dialogue towards the end.
James Franco was still hot however - i need more scenes of him shirtless ...
"To prepare himself for Sandman, Church pumped iron for 16 months to bolster his real-life form."
Now thats amazing!
He was this comedian in 'Ned & Stacy' which I remember and loved! And now he's ... buff as heck! I also reserve this commentary for Christian Bale for what he did in Batman Begins!

Reading
So I contacted Sharon B., who will be in discussion with Bernice C. on what slots may be available for June for a reading at Seksan.
Would be a good place to test for plays too.

Secondaries
I feel like doing something ... charitable? Altruistic? Something ...
And the best I can come up with now is staging a play in conjunction with World AIDS day.
This won't have anything to do with the other project I intend to stage next year.
But I think its something to do.
I recall vaguely a group of AIDS patients putting up a play last year.
Something like that ... yea.

Board games
I need more people who like board games too.
Rare in this day and age amongst, the common city folksies but there's bound to be a few.

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Prose
His silver eye looked at me.
His naked eye to my naked form.
Piercing deep underneath the facade of clothes and cultural habits.
I thought he might know. I was worried he would find out.
But I wanted someone to know, someone to find out - and then it might be easier.
Someone to break this weaving glamour unto me.

His silver lips broke perfect symmetry when his silver tongue caressed them.
Roilling wet and silky back and forth, he tested.
There need not be a test, no approval is required for the act.
The act that would be freely given then casually shushed aside.
I adore and abhor this nature of mine.
So self-vacant and dripping empty.

The silver fingers in grey light teased.
White blades of light glinting off black hair.
Remove my character, strip away my persona
I would have screamed, if I were more bold.
My last desperate attempt at immortal sin
Delirious pleasure of being his.

Erudite Smith

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The weekend
There were a few shows.
One was cancelled, primarily because there wasn't anyone to see it and I was informed later, it was unusual to have a Saturday matinee in Penang.
There were up and downs, molehills and mountains.
Some relationships staggered, others blossomed, some estranged while some reformed.
And DVD's were 4 bucks a pop.
Holee.
And a gleeful shoutout to my lovely rommies: Farah and Janice. ( hugs )
Farah: Brush up on your Chinese and don't forget to catch the next episode of MediaCorp STAR IDOL competition!
Janice: Get rest, much needed rest amd enjoy the mountain of DVD's you bought :p
The cast were great too!
Altho' it felt more like a holiday than a working show week but oh well.
I would have liked to get to know the girls and Brana better - but as it happens in large crowds on any excursion, you can't always mix with everyone you want to, but I still wish I could :D

It would seem customary to list down everyone's names, but you guys know who you are and that I lub you much much!

Muster Courage
Some words are defined and given meaning. Some virtues are given prominence but I still get confused as to why some are seen as virtues. Qualities of character perhaps, but ... virtue? Or is the word lost to meaning over the digital age or even when I grow older every year.
Maybe both.
I want courage ... to?
Strike at my enemies, who could be my friends as times and pacts change.
I want humility .... to?
Advance my career? Isnt' that counter-intepretative?
I don't know what to read or listen to anymore. Its quagmired by symbolism cum marketing.
Philosophy has no drive in this socio-economic world.
Its days are past and marked into the faded ruins and monuments of the annals of time.

See Saw
I feeling indulgent but its only temptation. It took me a long time to recognize alot of the signs of temptation and I'm always learning more new tricks it plays on me ... but I am learning.

Lurve
There is a Hug-Out I must digitalize and immortalize into the net.
(( hugs )) to Pat Low.
The wonder, duty and compassion you've felt on your current journeys are inspiring. As much as you may not seek to blossom the seed of cahrity in others, it'll happen nonetheless, should you continue in your beautiful and graceful exploration of yourself.
I (( hearts )) you.

To all
Learn to see the profound in your simplest surroundings. De-complicate the memories and guilt. Temper your shame with wisdom. Live ... live ... live ...
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Prose
I can think of nothing smaller than a moment.
Its slips through knots smaller than a grain of sand. It is fleeting and everyone seems to want to capture, recapture and shape it. But how does anyone embrace that moment? No palms are small enough, no arms long enough to wrap around the small, tiny, child of time.
This speck which enamors us all.

I can hold it between my fingers but I know it holds me in its rapture.
This moment, that moment, your moment, mine ...
If great things come in small packages, then it only takes that much or that little to change history.
In a moment, Bell discovered telephones, Franklin discovered electricity, Keller discovered tenacity and I could discover you.

So take awhile to watch it by.
It will never lie to you, because it cannot go back.
Nothing quite as true.
And when you consider it, it seems larger than eternity.
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