The World of Edenia

He is for you.

2011-10-08T21:17:00.005+08:00

Swept along

In a world that’s dancing

to a meaningless beat

The current is strong

Can you hold on

To the one song

Your heart used to sing.

Your ideals

Swayed by reality

Your goals

Now lack clarity

Be still and know

You, in your world,

orbiting a star -

one of the millions

in a galaxy -

one of the millions

in the universe,

are loved.

By none other

than the Creator.

The Boy with His Heart on His Sleeve and the Girl Who Never Tried to Fix Him

2011-08-03T22:00:00.000+08:00

http://www.dailylove.net/2010/09/91710.html

=)

Not Enough

2011-07-02T13:58:00.003+08:00

Sore limbs

Bruised knuckles

Bloody eyes

Ragged breath

Jagged teeth

Man in motion

As fluid as poetry

Senility of the sentry

Residing in the sanctum

Sanctions and semantics

Cerebellum cerebella

Erasing data

Like an impulsive medula oblongata

Itchy chin

Explosion of emotions

Tired of these songs

On this boring radio

Mesti Mau

2011-06-27T14:13:00.000+08:00

Walau jauh kau menjelajah alam semesta
Ku tahu jawapannya
Walau apa jua rintangan yang melanda
Kita sudah siap sedia

Luahkanlah isi hatimu
Agar kita bersama
Kuatkanlah pendirian
Bila kita hadapi dunia

Yang ku mahu hanyalah kamu
Bersamamu selalu whoa oh
Jauh jelajah kau kelana
Kita kan tetap bersama

Bila lidah hakimi ketika berbicara
Engkau tak perlu gusar
Ku kenali warna hatimu yang sebenar
Tak usah pura-pura

Cekalkanlah isi hatimu
Hadapi dugaanNya
Kuatkanlah pendirian
Agar dunia milik kita bersama

Yang ku mahu hanyalah kamu
Bersamamu selalu whoa oh
Jauh jelajah kau kelana
Kita kan tetap bersama

***

"Mesti Mau" by Pesawat (used in Twisties ad)

Can't Stand

2011-06-21T11:03:00.000+08:00

A song I composed in the solitude of Brunei, where friends and family (and at that time lover) were out of reach. Perhaps, someday, I will video myself and post it on YouTube or something.

****

The orange glow from the setting sun

Crawls up your soft arms

You look at me with those beautiful eyes

And capture me once again

The purple skies and radiant stars

Remind me of your gentle voice

I draw you close enough to hear your breath

But still, you're just a dream

And you've got me sitting here

Thinking about

You

I want to hold your hand

I want to hear your laugh

I can't stand

These lonely days without you by my side

I can't wait

To see your face again

I can't stand

These lonely nights without you by my side

I can't wait

To hear your stories

I miss you

Second Hand Seven

2011-06-17T11:02:00.001+08:00

Grab a helium-filled balloon

It could be blue

So it could hide among the skies

Take a jump and never look down

Let's fly and fly to the moon

If you're tired then let's rest

A tight slumber up in the clouds

But meanwhile I'm in bed

Itchy uniform and pin in my wrist

Sounds a lil silly

But still it was something she said to me

That Seven is a magic number

Now as I'm about to close my eyes

I start wonder

About this Seven the Magic Number

Can I just get one for myself?

Like my sky-blue balloon

I won't mind even if it was

A Second Hand Seven

How Do I Love Thee?

2011-05-08T08:02:00.002+08:00


How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, -- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

-Elizabeth Barrett Browning-

You and Me

2011-04-21T22:39:00.002+08:00

It's like a

worn-out tee,

not much variety.

Frayed threads,

easily snapped,

a little holey

here and there.

But it's comfy,

Just what I'd wear.

I don't have to put on airs

You know me.

Thinking Of You

2011-04-20T14:15:00.001+08:00

Pitter-patter of raindrops…

On the window ledge
Faraway whooshing of cars
driving into puddles
They used to walk in the rain
Skipping along hand in hand
A gentle lip-lock
Wet smiles and shivering giggles
Hair glistening underneath
the shimmering curtain of
grey-tinted showers
*************************
Sleepy growling
The skies threaten to
pour on this land
Mouse cursor blinking
I read these lines
I wonder if I’m on
your list.

The Prerogative of Pain

2011-04-08T23:36:00.002+08:00

I lash out

to cope

for dictate emotions

uncontrollable actions.

I gloat at your distress,

flinch at your lack

of remorse,

angered that retribution

doesn’t make

a difference

to the hole in my soul.

Every lash becomes

a backlash

but I cannot

stop.

(Something I wrote a while ago and posted in my blog. Just exploring the extremes of rage.)

Smash

2011-01-28T12:07:00.000+08:00

Hasegawa arose from his slumber. He threw his blanket aside nonchalantly and rose to his feet. Slowly, he paces to the valuable shiny silver mirror. He observes his reflection. Newly tattooed symbols on his shoulders were still sore.

He drew a deep breath, held it momentarily before exhaling it forcibly.

And he went back to sleep.

Better than now

2011-01-18T10:19:00.000+08:00

I am still dreaming

Of a day when I'm better

I am still thinking

Of the reason I'm bitter

It all comes to nothing

Really? Again I wonder

Truly there must be something

Under all this thunder

Wondrous singing

From a wondrous writer

Joy and hope, will it bring?

It seems there is no answer

Time to do something

Time to quit being a quitter

Time to rise for changing

Time to enter the Winner

World: Advent

2010-09-11T15:17:00.003+08:00

Before a Nether Advent Major can earn his stripes to perform a Phull Manual Kheopt Jhump, he would need to accumulate enough Daytars on his Nether Advent Fone.

But this one decided to turn Renegade on the Greatest Rendezvous, defying the Holy Council of the Heavenly Celestial Knights and the Sacred ArmMore of the Guardyans.

The reason:

To search for a New Pheauture.

Mess

2010-08-05T23:29:00.002+08:00

What a mess the room is

Paintings strewn all across the floor

Bed sheets tossed aside un-ceremonially

Chairs not in their proper places

Documents with neat handwriting in disarray

Curtain billowing from the gentle wind

Wrinkled clothes abandoned in the basket

Boots and stockings unattended

Outside, the brown rustle and fly around at random

Pleased to just run aimlessly

To laugh unrestrained

We roll in the meadow

Not worrying about the dirt

Nor minding the grass stuck in our hair

As long as we can hold each other

In our arms

Our lips touch gently

We blush and you giggle bashfully

Who cares

Let this mess

Be the evidence

It's been awhile.

2010-07-27T21:53:00.004+08:00

Looking back 20 years later, it's amazing to note how life turned out the way it did. No, “amazing” isn’t the right word. At that very moment, it was devastating – so utterly crushed was my bright, hopeful heart, so utterly razed to the ground the dreams built on youthful idealism. They say time heals. Perhaps, but I prefer to believe that time numbs. Some scars don’t fade – they manifest themselves in the form of a crooked smile in memory of events. You know, the kind that doesn’t make it to your eyes. So yeah, perhaps a better word than “amazing” would be…mind-blowing. It wasn’t entirely terrible, because fatalism, which set in after a while, dictated that I see the best in everything. When you learn to watch for the slightest hint of beauty in the midst of murky darkness, you tend to notice so much more. Life wasn’t always painful, it was seldom totally bad, it was never without that glimmer of hope.

I don’t remember every single detail of what took place, but when I try to, the familiar feelings flood over me with overwhelming intricacy, leaving me descending into what seems to be the cellar of my heart. Over the years, the door hinges have rusted. I gradually stopped reliving the heartbreak and heartache. I have stopped feeling sorry for myself. It was easier to march forward mechanically, holding back the tears till an opportune time when no one was watching. There were times I second-guessed my choices. I was proud and young then. I took matters into my own hands with the detached pragmatism I so prized. No one knew the pretzel my heart had twisted into, and I didn’t want their pity anyway. No, I didn’t want their wisdom, I wanted to take full responsibility for our mistake. My mistake. I wanted to do what was noble, forgetting in youthful pride that my judgement of what was best could be clouded. I don’t believe what I did was noble anymore, but I don’t know if I would have wanted it any other way either.

I’m sorry for everything you didn’t have a say in. Life would have been different (though not necessarily better) if you did. I thought it was best that you didn’t know anything – it might have made moving on easier. You had such a bright future and it would have devastated me much more to destroy your dreams, more than it did when my dreams came crashing down on me. I did what I thought was best for you. Even though I am content where I am now, it was still unfair to you. I know, and I'm truly sorry. I hope this brings closure, if you ever still wonder what happened. It’s been 20 years, I’ve moved on, and I hope that you have, too. I apologize that it took me this long to pen you these words. I wish you well.

Just so you know, he knows your name.

What is Love?

2010-07-17T23:20:00.001+08:00

What is love, I asked

A little boy of seven

“When she lends you her favourite pen,

and smiles like an angel from heaven.”

What is love, again I asked

This time a spunky young maiden

“Oh, when he sends you flowers and gifts,

and phones you twenty-four seven.”

What is love, I questioned

The middle-aged man on the street

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m running late. I can’t

lose this job, I have mouths to feed.”

What is love, I wondered aloud

Old Grandma passing by heard

“It’s hearing tenderness in the gruff,

forgiving seventy times seven past hurts."

What is love indeed?

What Is This Feeling - So Sudden and Foreign?

2010-06-01T23:47:00.000+08:00

"Come, I'll walk you home," he says to me, concern lingering in his voice.
I ignore him.
"It's raining..." he holds out an umbrella and follows me, shielding me from the rain.
I duck out from underneath the cover, letting the raindrops fall on me.
I hear him sigh behind me.
"Fine, take this then," he hands me the umbrella and hurries across the street before I could refuse him yet again.
I stare at the handle, unsure of this gesture of kindness.
I was tempted to squash the very show of genorisity, and throw the evidence of it on the ground.
I didn't though, I walked home with the umbrella in my hand, as if nothing was amiss.

As I was busy drying my hair, my glance went back to the soggy umbrella, sitting by my door.
"Damn it," I said aloud.
I made plans to leave it by his desk tomorrow.

I couldn't understand him. I couldn't understand why he bothered. Especially when I have been nothing but cold. Cold wasn't even the word. I was, quite frankly, a bitch.

My mind involuntarily flashed back to a scene I would rather just forget. He had the misfortune of having me as a lab partner. I kind of pitied him, I wasn't much of a team player.

"Here, I got a band-aid from the TA,"
"I'm fine. Let's just finish this experiment, I want to get out of here," I muttered.
I had my fingers wrapped around a small cut on my palm, plugging the wound.
I stared up at him and was surprised to be met with his eyes. He gawked at me as if I had slapped him.
"Why do you always assume the worst in people? And here, just take the stupid bandage." He said with a scowl on his face.
I was a little taken aback, I did not expect such an interrogation coming from him.
"Because they have never given me any reason to assume otherwise," I challenged. I still ignored the flesh-colored bandage he was holding out to me. He finally gave up and just placed the thing on my side of the counter.
He was trying to read me further, but it was too late, my face was back to being painted a nice neutral.

Somewhere along the line, I had stopped caring and started being indifferent. It made life simpler, less stressful. In doing so, I had forgotten how it feels like to care for someone else.

I was a coward, still am a coward. I play it safe, never daring to take risks. My comfort zone is my shell.

I would hold myself back, hold myself at a distance. I was deathly afraid of peering over my carefully built barrier. So fearful of putting myself out there, to form actual human relationships. I decided that temporary happiness was not worth a moment's vulnerability.

Thinking of him, the stubborn guy with the umbrella and the band-aid. My insides are at once, raw and numb, begging for relief yet unsure of where to start treating it.

Am I possibly feeling moved? Touched?

Oh, you know me?

2010-05-19T08:28:00.003+08:00

I seem perfectly composed. You hear my laughter, you can even sense my radiating joy. You tell me to slow down, I'm way too hyper. People around me laugh at me and with me. I don't seem to have a care in the world, at least, none significant enough to leave lasting scars.

You might even admire my exuberance. My seeming detachment, my efficiency, my skill in emotional adjustment.

What you don't see is as equal a part of me as what you see.

There are times when blazing words get caught between my constricted throat and clenched jaws, and holding them back requires back-breaking effort.

There are times when I am overwhelmed with despair, helplessness and frustration.

There are times when words sound empty and inadequate.

These are times when the tears surface. Those tiny drops of humanity, the ones I often keep back in order to maintain a perfect composure. Hugging myself and rocking myself to sleep only keeps the tears in. As much as I don't want to admit it, I do need someone to hold me and assure me that everything's going to be okay. Someone who knows me well enough to be a comforting presence.

Then I would, for once, cry my heart out.

[Written in 2007 - never published, kept as a draft in my blog]

2010-05-19T08:15:00.000+08:00

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully around with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness...The only place outside heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers...of love is hell."

- C.S. Lewis -

Yet

2010-04-04T21:14:00.002+08:00

All attempts have failed

All my heads are tails

She's got teary eyes

I've got reasons why

I'm losing ground and gaining speed

I've lost myself or most of me

I'm heading for the final precipice

But you haven't lost me yet

You haven't lost me yet

I'll sing until my heart caves in

You haven't lost me yet

These days pass me by

I dream with open eyes

Nightmares haunt my days

Visions blur my night

I'm so confused

What's true or false?

Fact or fiction after all

I feel like I'm an apparition's pet

But you haven't lost me yet

You haven't lost me yet

I'll run until my heart caves in

No you haven't lost me yet

If it doesn't break

If it doesn't break your heart

It isn't love

If it doesn't break your heart

It's not enough

It's when you're breaking down

With your insides coming out

That's when you find out what your heart's made of

***

Yet by Switchfoot from the album "Hello Hurricane"

the lie

2010-03-19T17:15:00.003+08:00

She tosses her pretty head in the crowd

Every single pretty curl in place

Spent hours this morning, for crying out loud

Deciding which dress - satin or lace.

Oh, what to don, what to wear

What matches and what doesn’t

A thousand ways to do up her hair

Only look unkempt she mustn’t.

She casts her angelic smile

On the undeserving passer by

More than her perfume, her sense of style

They wonder where she gets her joy.

Flawless skin, mesmerizing eyes

The shades and hues of her make-up kit

Her perfection, however, belies her lies

They cannot know she cries herself to sleep.

Listen

2010-03-17T20:23:00.001+08:00

Hush.

Withdraw from the overwhelming

pain, the confusion within

Abandon

Loneliness as companion

and

listen.

Seek refuge

amidst the chaos

of a pining heart

and

listen.

Listen

for the gentle reminders

in your heart hidden

Listen

you do know

the what's, the why's,

the reasons for.

Listen, and let in Peace

Home is where the heart is.

You belong with me.

2010-03-13T14:54:00.002+08:00

Teardrops in an ocean
Gathering dust
Smooth like silk
Is the long winding road
Down to the depths of despair

My arms aren't long enough to reach
My strength isn't great enough to lift
To rescue you
From the inexorable movement
Of the cascading avalanche
That buries hopes and dreams
In the storm of confused fury
That is reality

So distant yet so near
The future screams its rage
And will not be ignored
The fangs of uncertainty are sharp
But the poisons of regret seem more sinister

Yet still outside
The birds shake free of the frost
And the flowers of early spring bloom
In the glory of the returning sunshine
The gift of the present
Must not be forgotten

Que sera sera
Que sera sera
Que sera sera

You belong with me.

2010-03-10T13:32:00.002+08:00

One day I asked him. "Mister Wordsworth, why you does keep all this bush in your yard? Ain't it does make the place damp?"

He said, "Listen, and I will tell you a story. Once upon a time a boy and girl met each other and they fell in love. They loved each other so much they got married. They were both poets. He loved words. She loved grass and flowers and tress. They lived happily in a single room, and then one day, the girl poet said to the boy poet, 'We are going to have another poet in the family.' But this poet was never born, because the girl died, and the young poet died with her, inside her. And the girl's husband was very sad, and he said he would never touch a thing in the girl's garden. And so the garden remained, and grew high and wild."

I looked at B. Wordsworth, and as he told me this lovely story, he seemed to grow older. I understood his story.

Excerpt from B. Wordsworth, V.S. Naipaul

Melody

2010-02-20T14:25:00.003+08:00

Sometimes I hear melodies in my head. Favourite songs repeat in my mind. Cryptic lyrics resound, their meanings just outside the edge of my comprehension. Notes rewinding and replaying; I wish I could do something to make them materialize.

What would I make out of these songs in my mind and feelings in my heart?

A painting, a page filled with harmonious and warm colours? How do you draw a picture that makes the viewer hear a song in his mind that makes him feel like going back to where he was born? Or how do you dance a silent dance that makes a viewer hear a different song in her mind that makes her feel like running until her heart bursts?

How do I sing a song without music and lyrics but yet the music is as loud as your heartbeat and mine? I can hear the steady droning of strings, flooding my heart with unspeakable warmth and aching. I wish I could fly, and as high and as hard as I fly, I wish you could hear the magnitude of my feelings.

Light up the skies

2010-02-13T20:42:00.002+08:00

I hear the crackles

From lightning bolts tickling dry leaves

Sparks and flames

Dancing in the moonlight

Casting faint light

In this cursed twilight

This sun wishes me goodnight

I wish it wouldn't

Be this way

All of the life that's left in me

Brings me to an unknown place

Where with eyes wide shut

I sing a song with my lips

A duet with the silence of ghosts

Flickering lights coming

From the fireflies

An assuaging

Better than howls and cries

Of a hundred nymphs

I feel dirty and alone

Zig-zagging the dust floats

Like a bubble tossed in the sea

My life flits around

Like a fluttering butterfly

Or a rose waiting to say goodbye

The scars on my knees

Match the damage

Hidden on my heart

Wearing it on my sleeve

I am exposed

Tears stream down my cheek

Because there's nobody here

With me to celebrate

The new year.

2010-01-23T22:08:00.003+08:00

A familiar feeling haunts me tonight. Restlessness comes close, but not quite; sadness doesn't nail it on the head; not depression, yet my soul feels subdued. I feel immobilized, paralyzed, capable only of sitting in a daze and thinking of you. All of a sudden, I am a vulnerable being again - I could cry at a trigger, and my neediness surfaces. I know what I should be doing, but for this frozen moment, I couldn't care less.

I miss you.

Confessions of a Pessimist.

2010-01-22T15:51:00.000+08:00

Being in love is scary.

It's scary from the very start, when you realize that you've accidentally, unwittingly put your heart into the hands of another - who might not even know it. You try to take it back, you try to deny it, and you try to rationalize with yourself. You become well-acquainted with depression and hopelessness, caught between acting upon your desires and doing what is 'wiser'. You wish, you hope, you get mad at yourself for desiring something you shouldn't be wanting. The very reason you never desired anything so passionately was so that you could avoid this feeling altogether. What have all your efforts amounted to? Nothing. You despair at how helpless you are, you rage within because your pride has been taken down a peg. But you still hope.

Then he responds, and you feel a mixture of happiness and doubt. Happy that it's mutual, afraid that so many things can go wrong. Suddenly, you're overwhelmed by the fear of bumping into those hands, scared that you might knock your heart right out of them, onto the ground where it would shatter and break into an irretrievable million pieces. At the same time, your heart feels like bursting for joy. All these extremities of emotion are explored, and you wonder if your heart can take the emotional stretching. It doesn't seem possible, and the tightness in your chest leaves you gasping for breath at times. Every single word he says is filed up in your suddenly phenomenal memory, every single line analyzed for underlying meanings. Everything he does is magical. It's so wonderful, beautiful, that you're afraid it's too good to be true.

Things can only get worse, because they can't get any better, right?

What happens when the quarrels start, when the disillusionment sets in? What happens when feelings die down, or the magic wears off? What happens then?

What happens when people start telling you that long-distance relationships don't work 90% of the time? Do you keep hanging on to that fragile thread of hope, or do you take the side of realism as a defense mechanism? What happens when you realize that 9 years is a long time - a long, long, long time? What happens then?

These fears are not unfounded. These fears are real. These fears are valid. These fears are part of the deal.

But life doesn't happen all at once. It doesn't settle or confirm all your fears in one day, or even in a year. It takes a lifetime to be certain, and even then, you can't be 100% sure. It's kind and cruel at the same time. Kind, because you realize in stages that quarrels don't lead to immediate breakups, that the initial romance will - for all your idealism - eventually stabilize into a comforting, warm current of confidence that your relationship is stronger than that. Cruel, because part of your doubts and questions cannot be answered until the time comes. And you still run the risk of being hurt.

Perfect love casts out all fear. But imperfect mortals have their limits.

Open your eyes

2010-01-20T05:05:00.003+08:00

So vivid the memory
I can still see into your eyes

So sweet the scent
The smell of you lingers

So soft the touch
Your fingertips glide and I shiver

So powerful the emotions
I can still feel you tremble

So loud the silence
The empty spaces between my fingers mourn in desolation

So far you are
Your secret smile blazes across my mind

Colours return (Part 2)

2009-12-26T15:31:00.002+08:00

"Asheroth."

Familiar voice.

"Asheroth."

The voice came again.

"Asheroth."

Firmer. But who's Asheroth anyway?

The throbbing in my temples somewhat subsided, and I risked opening eyes, only to regret doing so. The surroundings were a still bit too bright and my headache returned. I closed my eyes again, groaning. The unknown person gave an audible sigh of relief.

"Who are you?" I asked the stranger, and strangely I didn't feel that he was an intruder nor had any ill intentions. Yet, I asked, "What are you doing in my house?"

"Good, you're back," came the reply.

Then I heard a small "whoosh" and felt a weird breeze.

"Hey, who are you?" I asked again. I wasn't sure why I wanted to know who that stranger was, and why I didn't feel threatened. And I felt really confused. What happened to me? Who was that unidentified man?

I gently opened my eyes and tried to ignore the brightness.

Nobody.

"Where did he go?" I wondered aloud.

What happened? I was suddenly alarmed that I can't remember anything before the time I heard that stranger calling out for someone with a strange name. Asheroth? I observed my surroundings. Yes, this IS my house. I've lived here for 19 years. Yet, I had this odd feeling that I couldn't put into words.

It was like waking up from a really long sleep, from a really bad dream that felt so long to the extent you can't remember reality.

Who am I?

I got up and I realized I was wearing weird clothes. Clothes which I don't remember owning or purchasing. And someone was playing my piano, because the fallboard was up.

What is going on?

Contented

2009-12-19T22:52:00.002+08:00

He cleared his throat, and she looked up at him. A soft smile was still on her face, that lovey-dovey expression he liked to tease her about, but one he secretly couldn't live without.

"I love you."

She smiled even wider. Then her lips twisted into crooked line.

"Heyyyyyyyy, what's wrong?"

He felt her arms loosen around his neck, and promptly loosened his hug as well. She lowered her gaze for a second, and looked back at him.

"Do you feel that you're missing out on other people? 'Cause we're so young, and we've never dated others..."

He wrinkled his brow in thought. Shrugged.

"Maybe. I don't know. Does it bother you?"

She smiled wistfully.

"It doesn't really bother me, but my friends think I should try out other people while I'm still young. Play the field. Flirt. Parrrtay. The works," She playfully winked.

He chuckled. "Rawr. Do you want to?"

"Of course. What do you think?" She coyly asked. Then she pursed up her lips and stopped smiling.

"Seriously though, do you think it's wise to be so...committed to each other? What if we are limiting our options? After all, you've never dated anyone else, and I've never either - there might be others better for us out there."

"You mean, is this healthy?" He paused.

"Something like that."

"I don't know, but you're the best I ever had. Or will ever have, I suppose. And I don't feel deprived, not with the way you kiss me," His eyes twinkled.

"Correction : I'm the ONLY one you've ever had. How can you even TELL if I'm the best if you've no one else to compare me to?"

"Awww you missed the whole 'kissing' point."

She playfully swatted his shoulder.

He looked into her eyes, smiled and said, "I don't want to find out that you were the best after I lost you. That'd just suck, wouldn't it?"

"Smart answer." She grinned contentedly, and snuggled back into his arms.

Colours return (Part 1)

2009-12-15T18:51:00.003+08:00

The black of the night sky hides the bashful twinkling stars. I allow my brown irises to relax, enlarging my pupils - as black as the velvet blanket of the night sky.

With a mutter of a simple spell, I teleport myself to my intended destination. Gray and startled, the owl flutters away, hooting its displeasure.

"Nice spot, Asheroth," commented BenGarth as he too popped out of oblivion to perch beside me on the brown branch of the tallest tree on the green hill.

"Why on a tree?" BenGarth asked again.

I shrugged, uninterested in answering his question. He put his arms around my shoulder, and teleported us to an unfamiliar room. White walls, large windows, glass door. And I took notice of a black and roughly rectangular object. It was as tall as my height, an arms' length deep, and two arms' length wide. The front had a projection, as if a box was attached to the main body. And at the bottom, there were three brass protrutions which seemed like pedals.

BenGarth smiled, pulled a nearby bench, black like the unknown object. He sat down and gestured for me to come near. I stepped closer, and watched him lift cover off the box-projection, revealing a bright red silk cloth below. And he removed the red cloth, further revealing a great number of straight, small...

"Keys," BenGarth told me. "These things are called keys. You press on them."

Yes. Great number of keys. Black and white. Alternating with a certain pattern.

"What is this?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

Without answering my query, he began to press on the keys, several at once with both hands. And a chord of the most beautiful sounding notes flooded my ears.

Oh, it's a musical instrument? I realized silently as BenGarth continued to play. And with every bit of dynamism he displayed through his skillful manipulation of the black-white keys, I felt my body sway. A strange stirring began in my heart, and I felt my heart thumping faster faster and faster. I began to sweat. I gulped as I began to feel hot. My fingers mirrored the vibrations of the instrument. Every note, chord. Overwhelming.

Overwhelmingly familiar.

BenGarth's playing gained volume. As he crescendoed, I developed a headache. I clutched my head, and tried to cover my ears.

"Cease this music!" I demanded. My cry was ignored; BenGarth was reaching the climax of his song and pressed on. I stumbled away from my friend and clumsily knocked over a chair. I collapsed to the floor, the headache rising with the wave of notes BenGarth was drumming out. I was in torment, and I began to scream in agony. Yet, the music droned on until the pain was finally too much to bear. My vision became brighter and brighter as a blinding spot of light appeared before my eyes.

I passed out.

Beautiful Nightmare

2009-12-10T19:32:00.002+08:00

"Oh!" came her short exclamation.

I just smiled.

She let me into her house.

"Oh my. What a surprise," she commented, half fumbling with the door. She began to clear her things of the table and chairs, trying to make her den look neater and presentable to her guest.

"What are you doing here?" she asked a few moments later, bringing two reasonably large mugs of water. She sipped from one nervously as she slowly sat down opposite me.

I shrugged, and looked at her sheepishly. She blushed noticably. She cleared her throat.

And we just sat there. Quiet. Still.

"Say... uhm..." I awkwardly tried to start a conversation.

"Yeah?" she instantly replied, eager to break the tension. She played with her hair, probably a sign of nervousness.

"Did a man ever tell you that you're beautiful?" I said calmly. Clearly, she was somewhat taken aback at my question, and I could tell she was starting to feel uncomfortable. Before she could answer, I leaned closer to her, and looked her in her eyes.

"You are beautiful. Your narrow eyes, your odd puffy nose, your full lips. The curve of your waist and hips. I like the way you are always spontaneous, and I really like how you laugh at my witty remarks."

She gulped. I held her hand.

"I..." she began to speak.

And I kissed her lips. Next thing we knew, we were making love in her bed. I dozed off gazing at her fair face whilst stroking her long red hair.

A gentle kiss on my cheek woke me up. The room was dimly lit by a candle. It was raining slightly outside.

"Good morning darling," I greeted her.

She smiled, but almost instantly her smiled vanished.

"What's wrong?" I asked gently.

"This. Us." Guilt was written all over her face.

She bit her lower lip. She pulled the blanket away from me, and covered her naked body.

"Please get dressed. And leave," she said coldly without even looking at me.

***

I woke up. What a dream. Maybe this is what they mean by a Beautiful Nightmare.

Run

2009-11-13T17:27:00.002+08:00

She wants to
run and cry and hide
curl up in a heap
let everything inside
subside.

Subside.

The Man by the Roadside

2009-09-10T22:42:00.002+08:00

It is another one of those cloudy days, and I am out for a walk again. I walk on aimlessly, having no destination in mind, until my path diverges into two roads. I struggle with indecision. Take the left one. No, take the right one. Neither is familiar, so I eventually settle for the road leading to the right.

The sound of leaves crackling under my feet is the only sound that breaks the silence of my surroundings. The breeze caresses my cheeks as I close my eyes to breathe in the scent of the nearby forest.

“Boy.”

Startled, I look around. A man is squatting by the roadside, watching me. He has been so quiet that I did not notice him until now.

“Yes, you. Where are you from?”

“I’m from the College. Well, that’s where I am now. My hometown is far away, though.”

“Where are you going?”

I do not know how to answer this question. I am tempted to take it at face value, but something stirs within me. His eyes search me. Something tells me he is asking for more than just my physical destination. I hesitate.

“I don’t know, really.”

“Where do you want to go, then?”

“I’m…not sure.”

The man smiles. “Then why are you here?”

I am starting to get indignant. Why is he asking me all these questions, and why am I compelled to answer them honestly? He is nothing but a stranger to me. Yet this mysterious stranger captures my attention. I throw him a vague answer to see if he can follow my train of thought.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t have a choice.”

“Really? But you chose the path leading to the right today, didn’t you? You chose to talk to me, even though you could have just ignored me. Your choices will dictate where you go. What you will become. Who you will be and what you will do. Don’t look back at the end only to regret having your life dictated by others.”

I am silenced. Slowly, I turn around and walk back up the path, his words still ringing in my ears.

This time, I stride purposefully.

Man

2009-09-08T10:26:00.001+08:00

Bold.
Firm.
Stolid.
Strong.
Decisive.
Fearless.
Ruthless.

Heartless?

Less than I

2009-09-04T03:41:00.003+08:00

I wrote my apology
On this yellow piece of crumpled up paper
But I keep it in my pocket
Unable to decide what to do
Indecision grips my heart
And my mouth holds fast

I admit I am corrupted
Mind, body
Spirit and soul
Swallowed completely
Swallowed whole

I'm sorry
But I'm not who you think I am
I'm lesser than he

I've heard of that special spark
That ignites one's soul
Inflaming the spirit
Permeating the mind
And galvanizing the body

That special spark which gives all the chance to be the best versions of themselves

Maybe I once had it
But maybe don't anymore
I've been going through the motions
An empty husk with a fake smile

With my tiny hands
I fumble to patch the holes in my heart
The blood leaks
Is this it; is this the start
I am draining

Like a candle in the wind
Like foam on the stormy waves
Should I hold on to dear life?

I've lost the Spirit
I've turned away
The was-once cooling oil
Now burns me
Like coals being heaped on my head

I lie on the dusty ground
A corpse; dry and rotten
Within me
Worms that never die
And fire that never burns out

But if you really believe
In that spark
You aver about
Is who we really need

Then
I'll try.

How to Apologize to Your Girlfriend

2009-08-17T23:40:00.000+08:00

"You're late," she said quietly.

I nodded guiltily. I knew tardiness was one of the few things she couldn't stand. I racked my mind for excuses, but I didn't have any. I'd overslept, thanks to my "trusty" alarm clock. I wasn't a morning person. Maybe I should have gone to bed earlier, not watched that movie with my friends, not help out the new kids who'd arrived last night, not surfed the net for...

I kicked myself. No excuses. This wasn't the first time, either.

"Can I make it up to you somehow?" Silly question, really. I thought it would show her how sorry I was, but the moment it left my mouth I realized that I was only asking because I didn't know how to apologize. And asking the girl you'd wronged for advice on how to correct a wrong was insensitive and unintelligent, to say the least. I winced inwardly.

"Try to," she replied. Then she turned and walked away.

I watched her retreating back, trying to make sense of her words. My lack of sleep did not aid my inner disorientation. "I love you," I shouted after her, but she didn't acknowledge it. I saw her make the tiniest shake of her head, but she kept on walking.

Nice way of showing her that you do, an inner voice said wryly. I kicked myself again. Of course she wouldn't appreciate a declaration of love right now. My poor choices of words weren't helping. I needed an EQ boost.

I sat down and wracked my brains. How could I possibly make up for being late again? It's not like I hadn't done it before, and in all probability I'd do it again. A simple "I'm sorry, I won't do it again" note wouldn't suffice, and would most likely be dishonest, too. How do you apologize for a character failing?

I snapped my fingers. Flowers. Six red roses. The universal "I messed up but I still love you" indicator. I hurried over to the florist, but they were closed. I pounded on the door in the hope that somebody, anybody, would aid me in my desperation. The woman inside glanced at me, rolled her eyes, and pointed to a sign above that said, "FLOWERS = INSINCERE APOLOGY. GO AWAY." I slumped to the ground in defeat. The woman was right. She didn't like flowers anyway.

The it hit me. Chocolate. She loved chocolate. Yes, the creamy dark kind... Breaking into a run, I dashed into a nearby grocery store and picked out the largest box of chocolates I could find. But as I approached the counter, the cashier gave me a once-over, sighed, and said, "Honey, if that's an apology, forget it. She deserves better." My mouth dropped open. Was I really that obvious?

"Bb..but...but..."

"Trust me, honey." She yanked the box out of my arms.

Dejected, I walked out into the street. I was out of ideas. I wanted nothing more than to go to her and envelope her in a big bear-hug, but I doubted that there was such a thing as a "physical apology" in the female vocabulary. A foot massage, then? A back rub? Maybe. I didn't know.

Then I remembered. She'd told me of her friend who baked a cake for his girlfriend in apology. She hadn't sounded too approving of the idea at the time, but maybe...

The blare of a horn broke my reverie, and I jumped back onto the sidewalk just in time to look up and see the bus driver shaking his fist at me. JUST DO IT, the bus' Nike logo shouted at me as it zoomed by. I wondered if it was a sign.

...

Two hours and an exploded oven later, I knew it wasn't. I was no baker. Covered in flour, I collapsed onto my bed and squeezed my eyes shut. "Never give a nerd a cookbook," I muttered to myself.

My eyes snapped open. I was a nerd. Nerds don't give up, they Google. I hurried over to my computer.

"HOW TO APOLOGIZE TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND by Rosecrans Baldwin" jumped out at me. Perfect, I thought.

"Feel free to use any tactic that seems relevant:

Say you’ll meet her for dinner at the new, raved about and very expensive restaurant, but don’t show up. That way, she can meet someone new. Phone the maître d’ an hour later and pay for their meal.
Have her favorite pet stuffed, smiling, with “love is forever” tattooed on its stomach.
Lose a leg; who’s sorry now?
Be hungry for her again: After a two-week fast, say you got skinny to show her how awful she’d look if she weren’t so fat.
Invent her a superhero identity featuring you as the reliable, naïve sidekick in tights. Exploit all entendres—bat caves, lassos of truth, etc.
Recalibrate her sister’s and mother’s bathroom scales to be ten pounds heavier.
Give her a dozen roses. Better than that, give her a single rose and a Mercedes. Better than that, fill the Mercedes with shoes. Better than that, dump yourself after she’s driven away.
Let her use the bathroom pass more often than the other kids.
Break up with your other girlfriends.
Pat Benatar said, “Love is a battlefield.” Love is not a battlefield; Iraq is a battlefield, where two thousand American soldiers have died. Isn’t she glad you guys don’t live in Iraq?
Detail her car.
Practice apologizing on hookers. If she finds out, explain you wanted to be really sorry.
Sign her up for a Match.com account.
Send her on a beach vacation to Australia. On her trip home, arrange for her plane to crash on a remote island in the South Pacific. Stalk her with monsters, handsome men with five o’clock shadows, and a shark with a weird logo on its flank. Two weeks later, arrange for her to find a new iPod in the sand loaded with a home movie of your apology.
Legally change your name—to your pet name.
Does your girlfriend like opera? So does Ewan McGregor. Inscribe his cell phone number (07761554841) down the side of a nine-inch rubber.
Take the day off, go to Six Flags, and buy her all the souvenirs she would have wanted. Make sure you get a photo of yourself being sick after too many roller coasters.
Tip her 20 bucks."

Bewildered, it took me 2 minutes to realise that the writer was being sarcastic. I read the article again. "Lose a leg; who's sorry now?" I cringed in sociopathic ecstasy.

It looked like the trusted Net wasn't going to be any help. None of the guys knew any better, and the gals sure weren't telling. I wasn't crazy yet, but I sure was was getting desperate.

"Take her away. I'm sorry sir, but your wife is as crazy as a jaybird."

"I'm going to send you to the booby-hatch!"

I groaned.

***

At precisely 9 pm, her doorbell rang. She opened the door, and without a word I handed her the package I'd brought.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A gun, so you can shoot me," I quipped.

Giving me her "that's-so-lame" look, she ripped open the package. Inside were a few sheafs of paper. She read the title and the first few lines:

How to Apologize to Your Girlfriend

"You're late," she said quietly.

I nodded guiltily. I knew tardiness was one of the few things she couldn't stand....

She looked up and gave me a quizzical look. I tried to look guilty but failed. I grinned.

"Want to join me for supper tonight?"

She rolled her eyes. "Guys," she muttered. Then she smiled, and everything was alright.

Desiderata

2009-07-27T12:45:00.004+08:00

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

~Max Ehrmann, 1927~

Delivery

2009-07-03T15:07:00.002+08:00

Her eyes ranged over the lands. Power mad people scrambling over each other, trying to be the top killer.

"Avatars," she summoned.

"Mistress?"

"Milady."

"At your service."

She drew a deep breath.

"Deliver the Night."

As silently as the Avatars appeared, they left except one.

"You dislike performing service unto me?" she asked him.

"No," came the reply from the man with the dark expression. His constant scowling, unexpectable behaviour - and powers - earned him the name Darkhorse, replacing his old name.

"Then?" asked the Lady, querying Darkhorse's reason for delaying.

"This holocaust will only gain us our own," came the answer.

Sixor was taken aback by that statement but was able to maintain a calm demeanour.

"Let a Goddess deal with matters related to the Mother Temple and her residents," she replied.

Darkhorse vanished.

Teacher's Day

2009-06-05T21:46:00.001+08:00

Teacher

You have put in me

The thirst for knowledge

Teacher

You have birthed in me

The curiosity to learn

Teacher

You have instilled in me

The drive to advance

Teacher

You have taught me

The courage to dream

But above all

Teacher

You have given me

The will to succeed

Teacher

You were with me

Every step of the way

As I learnt to be

The person I am today

Teacher

You held my hand

Led me through

Your sacrifices I understand

So I thank you

Happy Teacher's Day.

***

Lol this is my first commission. I shall not reveal who requested for this poem.

A Time for Everything

2009-06-05T10:15:00.003+08:00

There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven.

A time to be born and a time to die.

A time to plant and a time to harvest.

A time to kill and a time to heal.

A time to tear down and a time to rebuild.

A time to cry and a time to laugh.

A time to grieve and a time to dance.

A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.

At ime to embrace and a time to turn away.

A time to search and a time to lose.

A time to keep and a time to throw away.

A time to tear and a time to mend.

A time to be quiet and a time to speak up.

A time to love and a time to hate.

A time for war and a time for peace.

***

P/S This is not an original piece. Who can guess where this is from? Don't cheat, no Googling.

Out of laziness...

2009-05-28T00:33:00.001+08:00

... I copy and paste from my own blog:

Pernicious is the sweetest poison

Which I inject into my veins

Seven times over

There is no escape

From the snare which I set

For myself

How can I possibly win

When you don’t even have

All your cards on the table

Is whatever that is unseen

Considered clean?

When two sets of footsteps

On the sand

Become one

Does it mean you have carried me?

Does it mean I have followed your steps exactly?

Or does it mean

I have decided to stop walking

Beautiful

2009-04-21T10:46:00.002+08:00

'Cause I've seen the rainbows that can take your breath away
The beauty of the setting sun that ends a perfect day
And when it comes to shooting stars, I've seen a few
But I've never seen anything
As beautiful as you

[Beautiful, Jim Brickman featuring Wayne Brady]

It's corny because it works. - Jia Wern (not regarding said song, in a separate incident)

Cracks in the mirror

2009-03-06T23:52:00.000+08:00

Little tiny cracks that form
On the mirrors on the wall
Broken reflections through I see
None of them really quite me

Broken souls, broken lives
Something's just not quite right
Painted over with neoprene
The little cracks now barely seen

I see faces, I see dreams
I see ash and dust and seams
Seams with naught but held together
By mere threads that barely linger

And even now the threads do quiver
As Life bends its little finger
Ripping apart the painted masks
Exposed and terrified thus, alas

Then the moment passes, and the cracks are gone
Gaping wounds close with time's endless song
But the scars never really heal, do they?
Everyone's broken in some way.

The aching

2009-03-06T12:36:00.000+08:00

There is an odd aching
Deep in my heart
Even when I gaze
Upon the smiling
Countenance of the
Sweet of my eyes and my heart

With every mine heave
And every mine forward motion
I wipe mine brow
Gleam of the sun reflected
Off my teeth

Mine thoughts wonder
The accomplishments and acclaims
The faults and failures
I yearn for this foreign
Sense of satiation and satisfaction

Mine thoughts wonder
Am I not to reap my own harvest
To sigh to my heart's content
Yet I dare not speak of
My success

Because mine sweetheart
Whilst she heaves and advances
She goes down a road
Unchosen by her heart

Even as time
Flows unforgiving
Even as time
Ticks away without
Ever glancing back

Even as time
Attempts to work its magic
Of healing broken hearts

This odd aching
Remains.

I

2009-02-28T01:41:00.002+08:00

Oh sweet life, who am I.
I who dwell in my own sadness?
I who laughs and is bewilderdly ammused?
I who recoil in my own spiteful temper?

If life art a garden,
I am the rose,
Who seeks the attention,
To admire,
Maybe love.

But beware, do not get close,
Then thou wilt see my thorns,
Stay far,
And wonder, what secrets I bear.

I fear, I fear that I am your fall,
But perhaps,
Thou wilt suffer the thorns.

Then I wilt find my place outside this garden,
As yours. Only yours.

-Claire Angel-

*not an original Edenia poem

Courage

2009-02-24T17:30:00.004+08:00

I'll sit here

quietly.

try to

memorize

your every feature

til we meet again.

try to

savour the feel

of being close

at hand.

try to

put on

a brave face

to mask

a sinking heart.

try to

push away

thoughts of

being apart.

I don't

want to smile

but you would

want me to.

so I do

just for you

love.

What If

2009-01-24T17:04:00.004+08:00

What if
The sunshine you love disappeared
so did the joy that so endeared;

What if
The smile vanished from my face
The laughter went without a trace;

What if
The days ahead depressed
And lessened not the stress;

What if
The storms of life overwhelmed
Quarrels and fights dragged us down;

What if
I changed?

Would you still love me?

Because that's when
I need you most
To hold on fast
And hold me close.

Good Morning.

2009-01-11T21:25:00.005+08:00

I am in the soft breeze that lightly caresses your cheeks as you welcome each new day with a sense of purpose. You see me in the sunrises and sunsets; You can feel me in the big, wet drops of rain trickling down your face. I reveal glimpses of myself in music that speaks to your soul. Can you hear me whispering in the surrounding silence while you contemplate the mysteries of life?

I watch over you as you go about your day, whistling while you work, enjoying the company of family and friends. I am in every relationship you create. Because of me, you are not the same any longer in many different ways. I am your greatest joy and deepest sorrow, the source of feelings never before explored. I am the ache in your heart that cries out for companionship on dark days when everything seems to go wrong. You also sense me in encouraging words, puppies and vanilla ice-cream. I am present.

I wake you up each morning with my touch, and hover unseen as you slip back into a land of slumber and sweet dreams. I am in your dreams and you delight in my everpresent warmth. I am in the softness of your comforter when the winter nights cause you to curl up tightly underneath. You sense me in the night sky, in the twinkling stars, the dawn and the dewdrops.

I am everywhere, invisible yet tangible. I catch every smile of yours, every thoughtful frown, every sober moment. You didn't see me this morning, but I was there.

I have never left you.

Don't Ask

2009-01-05T16:16:00.005+08:00

If a single touch could melt
I would have felt it
If a single word could cut
I would have bled

If a single teardrop could heal
I would be crying
If a single kiss could kill
I would be dead

But still I draw breath
Though my eyes see nothing left
Still I do not cry
Though my eyes are far from dry

Still I do not bleed
Though the sharpness impales me
Still I feel nothing
Naught but the stillness of death

And that is how I'll know
That it is time to say goodbye

Merry Christmas

2008-12-25T16:54:00.004+08:00

"Merry Mousie Christmas" by ~jaxxblackfox on deviantART

" - Merry Christmas - " by ~darkredrose on deviantART

I'm "special"

2008-12-17T16:01:00.002+08:00

"What do you mean you're special? Of course you're special to me," she said as her beautiful, innocent eyes met mine. Her gaze was pure, trying to dive into my soul, to unlock the mystery hidden behind my unfathomable face.

"Well, yeah.. but that's not what I meant," I said, nearly stammering, struggling to get my point across.

"Hmm?" she prompted gently, her right eyebrow raised. Her chin rested on her gentle hands. Sweet smile. My heart ached. The pressure. The beating of my heart. The thunder roaring in my mind. The pounding at my temples. The blood rushing to my cheeks, making me blush.

"I'm.. different," I mumbled, nearly inaudible.

"I know. I love you, and I respect you. And I'm ready to listen. I'm willing to wait, as long as it takes for you to gather your words, and for you to tell me what it is you want to tell me," she said as she reached her left hand out, offering to me.

I heard something break. I think it sounded like my heart.

"You know, I really treasure you," I spoke with difficulty.

She smiled back at me. "I love you dear..."

"Honestly..." I began. I've got to own up - better now than later.

A frown began to form on her forehead.

"I... I... " I couldn't bring myself to say it.

She just kept quiet. Tears started to well at her eyes, threatening to fall. Raindrops begin to drip - drip, drip, drip on the roof.

"I don't love you, not the way you love me," I blurted.

Thunder roared, and the rain began to pour. Her tears fell.

"Is it another woman? Who?" Her eyes were full of venom, her tears proved her sorrow, her facial expression betraying her anger.

"No.. it's a man," I finally confessed.

She looked confused. For a moment, her anger dissipated - she was distracted.

"I'm a homosexual."

Begone

2008-12-14T19:00:00.004+08:00

O sweet breath of life
Will thou never cease
Thy bitter tang?

Why the little pinpricks?
Why the small jolts of pain?
Art thou so cowardly
To hide in the shadows
Laughing at thy devilish traps?

Stare me in the face, O Master
Look me in the eye
Face me that I may know my enemy
Show me where my loyalties lie

If thou must taketh, do not giveth
If thou must kill, do not give life
Give me all or give me nothing
But do not linger in my suffering
Let the dead mourn the dead
But leave the living alone

Be thou sincere in thy dealings
Or begone

Dead Fish Don't Flop

2008-12-12T11:01:00.001+08:00

[My friend, Viktoriya Ishchuk's work of fiction. Posted here because I thought it was more than good enough to share. ;P]

“Natalie?” The psychiatrist asked again. She tilted her head to the side to make sure that I was paying attention. I didn’t respond. The 40 something woman adjusted her glasses and uncrossed her legs. She looked frustrated, in a very professional way. “Natalie, I am going to ask you some questions,” she said in a shrink-like voice. “Some questions will be difficult to answer, but I want you to try and answer them to the best of your abilities. Does that sound OK?” Once again, she tried to meet my eyes, but I was determined to continue looking the other way. She sat quite still, just looking at me with a hundred questions floating behind her murky, brown eyes.

She sat back in her seat and adjusted her glasses again. Picking up what looked like my file, she began reading off my clinical history. “I understand that you were last seen by a Dr. Marlow? Is that correct? He diagnosed you with posttraumatic stress and with signs of schizophrenia, saying that you have hallucinations about another world…” She looked at me for affirmation. “You have had psychotherapy…clozapine…did it not work for you?”

Flipping to another page, she read my file further, echoing the two other psychiatrists I had seen. “It says here, that you went missing for almost three years -- that’s an awfully long time – and that you were finally found in New Zealand by a coast guard.” As I waited for her to process the information, I looked at the wall of plaques and credentials. Audrey J. Stellar, M.D. currently employed in Mayo Clinic, Rochester MN. “Do you want to tell me about your experience?”

No. I didn’t want to tell her about my experience.

“No? Well, it says here that your mother is very concerned about your wellbeing…”

I suppose, in her own way, she is.

“Natalie,” she said rather firmly, definitely frustrated with my lack of participation. “I need you to talk to me. Tell me what happened in New Zealand. Why were you gone for three years?”

You wouldn’t understand…

“It says here…” her tone shifted from matter-of-fact to empathetic. She took her glasses off completely and rested the frame on her lap. “Now, I called New Zealand to speak to the coast guard. It took a little digging, but I finally found the man by the name of Caleb Guilford – he was the one who fished you out of the Pacific.” I stiffened. “He remembered you quite well, saying that you were, and I quote, ‘the strangest fish he’s ever caught’.

When I asked him if he could expand on the idea, he said, and I quote again, ‘I found her floating on something like wood, only it looked gold with carvings of snakes and winged beasts – dragons or something. I thought she was dead at first, but as my boys and I hauled her in, she woke up with a start. She started screaming bloody murder. It was the strangest thing, I tell ya!

The first things she said to us were completely bizarre. It was pretty much mumbo jumbo for the first twenty minutes. A boy of mine took Latin in school, and he said he recognized a few words here and there. Who knows what language she kept yapping in, but eventually she switched to speaking English. God help us, but the first words I understood were “I need to tell her, I need to tell the Dragon Queen.” Then, if I remember correctly, she said something like “I want to go back and see Dan.” Maybe it was Brandon or Ben or something like that. I tell ya, it was the strangest day. You don’t forget a character like that girl.’

Well, Natalie, what do you think?” She crossed her legs in a different way, like Queen Elizabeth II, like Queen Sera…

“Is Dan your boyfriend?” I wanted to slap her.

His name is Bran.

“Did Dan take you to New Zealand?”

His name is Bran.

“Did Dan force you to go to New Zealand?”

For the last time, his name is Bran.

“Did Dan…” I slammed my fist down on the hardwood table, shaking the picture frames and causing the pencils to role lazily off the desk. Audrey remained relatively calm, considering the circumstances.

“I told you,” I huffed in irritation, “his name is Bran.” How could that stupid coast guard screw up a simple name like that? Audrey stopped a few pencils from falling. Lowering my file, charts, ET scans, and whatever else onto the desk, she folded her arms and smiled.

“No, Natalie, you didn’t tell me his name was Bran. But I am happy to make the correction.” Her smile was too gleeful in my opinion.

“Just because I am talking now, doesn’t mean that I will tell you everything. But I want to lay down some ground rules, since I understand that I am confined to a mental institution. Is that correct?” I couldn’t resist mocking her a little bit. I was in control of the situation now, and that is the way it was going to be from now on. She nodded, like she was letting me play house for a little while.

“Let’s start with rule number one: I will not take any medication for any mental reason. I am not unstable or dangerous, so don’t shove drugs down my throat! Moving on to rule number two: I will be given the benefit of the doubt. I know my story might sound crazy, but adults here have no imagination. All they know is science and reasoning. If I am going to tell my story, you need to listen without that judgment; you need to be a newborn, looking at a brand new world for the first time. Anything is possible. Nothing is quite logical. Understand?” I paused to let her process my request.

“I want one more thing,” I said taking a deep, shaky breath. I wasn’t sure what…no, I shouldn’t, but I wanted to try just once. Maybe, I…maybe they will let me back. “I will tell you everything. I will be your stupid experiment, your guinea pig, and your lab rat, whatever. I just want to go back to New Zealand. Please, promise to take me to New Zealand after all this is done.”

Audrey looked at me, then back down to her glasses. She twirled them between indecisive fingers. I wanted to add another please, maybe if I agree to let her publish this case study she will agree to my bargain. I couldn’t tell if she was the kind of woman I should bait or appeal to? Finally, after what seemed like forever, she nodded her head slowly.

“Ok, Natalie,” she said in a quiet, thoughtful voice. Her eyes met mine. “Some of the things you want are a little tricky, but I can pull a few strings. You should know that I genuinely want to understand you. I want to help you. I am willing to break a few rules because I want to hear your story from, I have to admit, both a professional and personal curiosity. Do we understand each other?”

I nodded, excited that there was finally progress. Somebody was willing to take the time to listen with clean ears. I decided that I liked Audrey. I was going to tell her my story in full detail. Her case study was going to be so brilliant, colorful, and different, that it would make her famous. It didn’t matter if my personal life was going to be made public; I was going to be in another world entirely.

“Are you ready to hear my story?” I began, warming up to the ultimate beginning. “I can’t pin point any particular experience or one word that describes my journey, because it wasn’t a day trip, it was three years of my life. It all began back in my hometown, Minneapolis, where I went to the Renaissance Festival only to be kidnapped…”

[Link to more chapters right here! =D]

"For Once, It Is Untitled"

2008-12-02T01:05:00.002+08:00

There are many things that can change the nature of a man. Amongst them would be love, in all its forms. Another would be a prison sentence.

Thankfully for most of us, it is the former that we find ourselves confronted with.

Thank you.

***

Another blog entry taken from Demented Reality.

Envy

2008-12-01T14:29:00.003+08:00

Handsome, stylish and suave.

Intelligent, witty and funny.

His charm, his charisma, his personality.

Exuberant.

I'm just like him, except that I'm not just not like him.

He's just better than me in everything.

He sings better, he dances better, he excels in everything; I'm just a fading shadow feebly trying to emulate him.

I've known him all my life, and he's been closer than a brother. But as we grew up, I watched him outdo me. Watched him become a better man, a better person than who I could ever become.

Envy, jealousy. A rare emotion for me. Even for a pessimistic, perfectionist idealist like me, I know the meaning of "contentment" or "satisfaction", not because I read the dictionary more often - I am content.

But by saying that, I just contradicted myself, didn't I?

Envy - "discontentment or resentful longing aroused by another's possession or qualities".

AHA! DIS-contentment! How can I say I'm content now?

Envy, a rare emotion for me, because I live in a society where everyone's stuck with situations they had not wished for. I'm the only guy around who gets what I want. Yet, I'm jealous of this friend of mine.

The pressures of the world where everyone's chasing after material and superlatives. I'm a sucker, an "individual" with herd mentality.

"Life is a contradiction," I said.
"And you're a walking irony," a friend replied.
"Perhaps," I thought as I looked into the mirror.
"Cool T-shirt," I thought again, but the T-shirt says "NERD".

I thought I lived a happy life, until I decided to look at my "idol", my friend who outshines me. Oh, the bitter pain of jealousy, the greenery which ain't any crunchy fresh vegetable.

The "great irony" occurred when we talked last night.

"Wow man, I look at you with your girlfriend! You two are like so STEADY! Damn... Envy!" he told me.

I envy everything he has. And vice versa.

So now, I've stopped feeling jealous. I smile; gratefulness fills my heart. Now I wonder how I'm going to get along with the rest of the complaining world.

Cryptic Writings at 2:00 A.M

2008-12-01T11:47:00.003+08:00

I once had a dream that did not make sense. Of course, most dreams do not make sense. They tend to defy time and space (once, I was in a dream where I was in an open field and also in a vaguely familiar living room, at the same time), or sometimes anachronistic (two friends were talking to one another in a dream. I know them both, though they don't know each other. They were talking about an event both of them knew nothing about).

At any rate, I once had a dream that did not make sense. I do not remember the details, but in it there was a pale little girl in a white dress. The kind little girls tend to wear, no doubt forced upon by parents, but that is beside the point. She had black-hollow eyes, her hair long and fluid, and a mouthful of fangs, blood dripping onto her white dress.

She was trying to tell me something, in that dream, though I do not remember what. No one takes very seriously what a little girl in a bloodied dress would say anyway. She guided me, in that dream, to a place I have forgotten. It was distinctly unpleasant.

The distressing part was not the dream itself, but that fracture of a second upon waking from that dream, where I discover that it is still night, and in the darkness of my room a little girl stood silently. White dress. Bloodstained. Fangs. It was only a small moment, but I knew she was there. In the darkness. Staring at me.

I should be careful which dreams I choose to manifest into reality.

Thank you.

****

Note:
This story was written by a person named Shahriman Latif. He's from Subang Jaya, or at least according to his blog Demented Reality.

Do drop by Shahriman's blog for more interesting stuff!

P/S Don't do anything to the title, because that's what it looks like in Demented Reality. And, sorry I'm too lazy to think of any stories - I mean, come on, my holidays just started, I wanna chill a little bit.

Missing You Again

2008-11-25T11:13:00.003+08:00

The quietness here reminded me,
for who you are,
and for what you did for me,
as you kept appearing in front of me,
it's as if you're not gone ever yet,
it is also hard for me,
to understand what your stunning,
innocent look got to tell,
but each time you're there,
I don't know what to do but to smile,
in a way as to hope you still remember me.

-another poem by Mellissa Lee-

taken from: My teen Life

*again reposted without permission*

(I'll let her know about it soon.)

No Return

2008-11-25T11:08:00.004+08:00

No Return..

For once I find goodness in you,
For once I find kindness in you,
For once I find gratitude in you,
And for once I find a smile in you.

But it's all of no use,
For its all too late to refuse,
Once done is forever undone,
Nothing can change the fact,
that you fake it,
right in front of me,
And that I'm silly,
to be blinded by you,
for donkey years,
Indeed I'm stupid,
to serve you as friend,
yet you still backstabbed me.

-Mellissa Lee-

taken from: My teen Life

Mellissa's current blog: Rainbow gives hopes

*reposted without permission*

The Invasion

2008-11-20T18:55:00.004+08:00

I closed my eyes.

Summoned to a duty of higher importance, my remaining senses instantly sharpened. Every stimulus in the room became magnified to my receptors. The jumbled voices were also beginning to separate; Distinctions between tones could now be identified.

I listened harder. The muffled words finally took on a definite sentence structure of their own, forming a clear picture of what was going through their minds.

She had two jobs and five kids. He had just celebrated his daughter's first birthday. She was in love with the little black dress on sale. He was struggling to save his marriage. She had suicidal tendencies. He was looking forward to the 8 o'clock news.

With every thought I deciphered, the emotions linked to them coursed through my body like jolts of electricity. Enough, enough! I screamed silently, unable to bear the sudden onslaught of sensations, switching to and fro in the blink of an eye. In a desperate attempt to silence the voices, my eyes flew open, but to no avail. They reverberated around me, filling up every last unoccupied space in the room. Stop, stop..no...

I slumped to the floor in defeat, the voices still clawing at me, refusing to let go.

She was right.

Insecurity

2008-11-06T22:18:00.010+08:00

She curled up on the couch, restlessless and apathy only thinly veiling the distress eating into her.

She thought of her. Casey, who was superior in every way - her sense of style, her blemish-free complexion, her magnetism. The way her eyes sparkled, the way she flipped her luxurious long hair, the way she looked at people that made them believe they were the most important people in the world to her. Boys flirted with her, even if she didn't always flirt back. She had a steady flow of admirers whom she never gave any false hope to, yet ardently pursued her as if they were oblivious to the futility of their chase.

She sat in the cafe, waiting for Matt. It was nine already. Nine, and he said he'd be there by eight fifty. It was uncharacteristic of him to be late, even by a few minutes. Not that she was worried - 10 minutes was not that big a deal. Then she heard them coming up to her. What was Casey doing here?

"Hey hun, sorry I'm late. I met Casey on the way here and stopped for a chat. Guess I lost track of time."

Casey. Why did Casey have to look so pretty? If that wasn't bad enough, Matt was one of Casey's closest friends. She obviously paled in comparison to the vivacious, popular girl. Painfully obviously.

***

He looked at her questioningly. She hadn't been herself for the past few days, and every time he asked what was wrong, she just brushed off the question. Not that she was fooling him, he knew her too well for that. He had to find out what was going on. Was it something he said? Something he did? Why wouldn't she just tell him then? Why did girls have to be so secretive and complex? He heaved a perplexed, inaudible sigh.

Walking over to the couch, he snuggled up against her. She moved over to make room for him, but he stopped her by pulling her waist closer. She smiled, and let him have his way. Then he tilted her chin up and looked her in the eye.

"Georgie, are you okay?" The tenderness in his voice was heartfelt. It was times like these that he wished he could read her thoughts instead of being left out in the dark.

"I don't know."

"Talk to me. You know I care."

I know you do. But she's so pretty. She's perfect. I'm inferior to her. I wish I were prettier and more perfect. Then maybe I wouldn't feel this way about her.

"How's Casey?"

"What does she have to do with this?" He was puzzled, "Look, don't try to change the topic, okay? I wanna know what's wrong. I really do."

"Tell me why you love me."

"Uh, okay. You're beautiful, you're funny, you're intelligent, you're lovable and I love you because you're you. Don't you know that already? Not that I mind reminding you, of course. " He smiled, still unsure of what she was getting at.

"I'm not as pretty as Casey is," she murmured softly.

He suddenly understood.

"Georgie, you're the one I love. She's just a friend. You don't doubt me, do you?"

"No." Then she fell silent again. He knew he had to do better than that. Casey was just a friend, nothing more. But maybe, just maybe, he'd been spending a little too much time with her lately.

"Georgie, Georgie. Look at me."

She met his gaze.

"I love you. I don't know what's bothering you exactly, but I love you. When I say you're beautiful, I mean it. Casey is pretty, but that doesn't mean you can't measure up to her. I don't like Casey in any other way. She's just a friend. You're the one I can't go a day without thinking about."

"Why?"

"You see through me like no one else does. You make my heart feel like it's about to burst with love for you. You make me laugh and brighten up my day whenever I need to be cheered up. I...I'm not an eloquent person and I don't always know the right things to say, like right now. But one thing I know, I love you like I've never loved anyone before, and you're definitely not getting any competition from Casey."

He stroked her cheek gently, earnestly looking into her eyes.

"I love you too."

And her heart felt so much lighter, unexpectedly.

[Author's note : Not one of my best pieces, but I guess it'll have to do. Note to self : Don't write stories at 12 midnight with a half-fried brain from the saturation of all sorts of subjects. Hehe.]

A Dirge To What I Used To Be

2008-10-17T22:09:00.001+08:00

The dreary weather mimics
how I feel inside
Winter is the epic
manifestation of my mind

Dichotomies are blurred
right and wrong, ambiguous
All thanks to your words
so careless and superflous

If you just let me be
unhindered and uncriticized
I would have understood felicity
my potential, realized

But alas this is what I've become
struggling desperately to feel normal
Trying to feel past being numb
finding meaning in the pain that seems eternal

[Written by my muy talented friend Maria. xD It's really a shame she doesn't update her blog often enough. =( Posted here with prior consent, of course. xP]

Per-My-Suri

2008-10-14T18:33:00.002+08:00

Imagine aku TVmu
Transmisionku terbit untukmu
Dramaku produk khas siaranmu
Trans-sonet gelora Satelit Chinta

Imagine aku radiomu
Intermisionku orbit untukmu
E-ramaku rekord khas hiburanmu
Inter-planet kejora Ke marikh asthma-ra

per-MY-suri rumahku
per-My-suri radarku
per-MY-suri syurgaku
Yang ter-isteri-mewa

Imagine aku VJmu
Transvisiku terbitan untukmu
Karektorku ilham khas pedomanmu
Trans-fonik gelora Satelit Chinta

Imagine aku DJmu
Intervisionku orbit untukmu
Metaforku iltizam khas buatmu
Inter-sonik kejora Ke-marikh asthma-ra

per-MY-suri rumahku
per-My-suri radarku
per-MY-suri syurgaku
Yang ter-isteri-mewa

***

Permysuri by a local band OAG (from their album OrAnG).
These dudes inspire me to write Manglish.

~~One of their members was from SJS Kuching!~~

Birthday

2008-10-14T16:46:00.005+08:00

*This post is not directly related to Edenia

I re-dedicate this poem to my wife Yen Pinng: Lighthouse

****

LIGHTHOUSE

You shine
Like a fire

Sadness and sorrow
Fade away

The tears dry up
From the warmth you exude

Your face
Bright like a lighthouse

I love the gentle smile on your face
As you ponder about the future

You no longer yell ~~as much as you did before~~
You become so subservient, protective

I love the way you would clutch your tummy
Between mouthfuls as we dine at sunset

You would whisper softly
To calm the little tyrant inside

Oh I await the day
Of our baby's birth

Until then
Be patient

My lighthouse.

****

Yes my love, let's grow up and grow old together.

****

Note: Sorry, can't help it but misuse this blog for personal purposes. Don't worry, it'll happen only once a year.

Sanctuary

2008-10-14T05:13:00.003+08:00

"We're stranded," I said softly.

"Really?" She asked, moving up beside me.

"Look," I pointed. The stormy sea had risen more than ten feet, and waves were cascading over the narrow causeway that was our only link to the rest of the world.

From our lofty view at the top of the lighthouse, we watched in silence as the angry storm roared its challenge at the world. None but the wind answered, its howling voice matching the thundering crashes of thunder.

"How long will we be stuck here?" Her quiet question rose above the din outside.

"I don't know. A few days, probably. This storm looks pretty bad," I answered absently, my attention still drawn to the mighty display of force outside that Mother Nature had conjured.

Her touch was light as she gently linked her fingers with mine. I turned to look at her.

"Good," she said simply, as her face broke into a soft smile.

Turning back to face the storm, we watched quietly with our fingers linked, silent observers of the fury outside that, for all its might, could not tear down the peace that reigned in our little sanctuary.

To be continued...

f.a.c.a.d.e

2008-10-12T23:13:00.004+08:00

"Never judge a book by its cover"
You probably have heard them all
Ancient proverbs and old wives' tales
Exist for a good reason

Underneath the smiles
Lives a repressed creature
Ever ready to rear its ugly head
Waiting to unleash its full monstrosity

Beyond the whole optimism act
Lies a rotten core of self-deception
Successfully conning everyone in sight
Leaving no inkling or suspicion

Beneath the happy facade
Lurks a troubled Jekyll-Hyde complex
Always yearning to be all that is good
Yet ultimately losing out to the dark side

It may come as a shock
I'm sorry to say that
You don't understand me
I barely even know who I am

[My very first self-posted entry! *beams* Shout-out to May for brainstorming with me to come up with the title. :P]

Another "Untitled"

2008-10-10T20:55:00.002+08:00

I like it when you grin,
Except the part you became so mean;
I like it when you smile,
Except the part you cranked my style;
I like it when you laugh,
Except the part you hit me with a staff.

But why do you say I'm the one,
When you point at me with you air gun,
But why do you say you're true,
When you're the one cuckoo.

I remember when I was at your door,
You were still playing Tekken 4,
Then you saw me standing there,
And called me in as if you cared,
Asked me to enter your room,
But only to play Doom.

But why do you forget what I said,
Is it because you banged your head?
But why do you blame it on me,
Is it because you're crazy?

Now I know why,
Why you wanted to say goodbye,
And why you're so solemn,
Because you're sent to the asylum.

XD

****

by Julius. ~~Re-posted without permission.~~

Maybe should make him an author also. That dude is one good poet! He can rhyme! Damn! I'm put to shame.

Vulnerable

2008-10-08T20:52:00.003+08:00

I have my pride too,
Love.

And I'm,
I'm
Afraid to know
What is beyond my control
Scared to feel
What I cannot reveal
Love, you leave me
Vulnerable.

Can I choose
Not to understand,
Fail to comprehend?
Let me play pretend,
Shy away from the hurt
And inevitable
Heartbreak
Avoid the empty promises
You prompt mankind to make.

I will live
In denial.

*written a long time ago, last year, to be more precise. Credits go to Rach for fishing this out of her email inbox. =P*

A Date

2008-10-02T11:48:00.004+08:00

The crowd cheered and clapped as the actors took one last bow before leaving the stage.

Seona turned and gave me a smile. I squeezed her hand gently and smiled back. It was quite unbelievable that I was in love with a girl who I thought I wouldn't be in love with. And just like all those mawkish love stories I've listened to, I'm the Romeo who speaks to his Juliet with his eyes and smiles.

Yea, truly with that simple gaze, smile and squeeze, countless words were exchanged. I don't think either one of us understood the language we're speaking, but at least our subconscious understood the subliminal messages that were relayed.

We rose, and took slow steps. As I walked her back, we didn't speak a word. Before long, we arrived at her doorstep.

"Thank you for spending time with me," I told her. I kissed her hand.

"Xeo, I like spending time with you. Thank you," Seona replied.

I couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was under the moonlight. Damn it, all the soppy songs sung by those lovestruck minstrels, I'm like the men they sing about!

She leaned close and kissed me.

"Good night Xeo," she said as she gently loosed her fingers from mine and went into her house.

I smiled.

The Farewell.

2008-09-29T09:09:00.001+08:00

I closed my eyes, breathing in the atmosphere.

The sun was dipping beneath the horizon, casting shadows of the couple seated on the bench just a stone's throw away. I didn't want my presence to be felt, yet was irresistably drawn to their silhouettes. I watched them whisper, laugh and sit in total silence at times, enjoying each other's warmth.

I sat and watched.

He shifted his body to face her and laced his fingers with hers. She remained in her original position, seemingly oblivious to his gaze of childlike adoration. Then she turned, and their eyes met. A smile slowly made its way across her face as their eyes twinkled in a shared understanding.

I felt like an intruder. But they didn't notice my presence.

The atmosphere turned solemn without warning. In low tones, he spoke with a downcast expression. Almost imperceptibly, she moved closer. As if she knew what was coming, and wanted to delay it as long as possible by keeping him close to her.

My heart went out to them.

The sun dipped beneath the horizon, and the cover of darkness fell. They took in their surroundings one last time, savouring every last moment of each other's presence. The rustling of the tree leaves in the breeze signaled the start of a drizzle.

The inevitable farewell loomed.

I rose, and walked over to them. I saw the desperation in her eyes, and the pleading in his. I felt the heartache, the numb resignation, the silent pleas for just one more second. Just one more. Just one more. I took her hand in mine, and firmly led her away.

He looked blankly ahead, unable to sort out his myriad of feelings.

I leaned down and whispered. He understood. She had to. And fate willing, the distance wouldn't change a thing between them.

More "lame" stuff (But honestly it isn't lame)

2008-09-27T10:08:00.004+08:00

Every single little thing
Reminds me
Of you

When I smile for no good reason
I look across the room
To see if you're smiling too

When I tear up because of something silly
I search for your shoulder
To lean on and hide away for a while

When I walk down the hallways
I half-expect you to be by my side
To squeeze and hold my hand

When I eat my meals
I eye the opposite end of the table
To check how much food you've stuffed in your mouth already

When I sit in front of the computer
I scan my contact list eagerly
To talk to you would be my day's delight

Every single little thing
That I do
Reminds me of you

I miss you
Oh how I wish you were here
Instead of there

~ Rachelle

***

Note: Edenia already hit 200 posts.
0.o"

Lame stuff

2008-09-25T23:48:00.003+08:00

I asked you if I was HANDSOME, you said NO.
I asked you if I was FAT, you said YES OF COURSE.
I asked you if you WANTED to be with me forever, you said NO.
I asked you if you'd CRY if I walked away, you said NO.

I heard too much, so I turned to leave. You grabbed my arm and said:
You're not handsome, but you're SMART.
The only thing that's FAT, or BIG, about you is your heart.
I don't want to be with you forever - I NEED to.
I won't cry if you walked away, I'd DIE.

****

I got this from a friend, I don't know where he got it from.

The Scream

2008-09-25T13:22:00.003+08:00

In the calm before the storm
Silence reigns
The breeze is gentle
The wind a comforting whisper

In the calm before the storm
Everything is magnified
Every action drawing attention
Every sigh like rolling thunder

In the calm before the storm
The edges blur
The skies open
Revealing heaven

In the calm before the storm
The chaos is within
The earth trembles
Darkness roars
With benign malignancy

In the calm before the storm
It grows cold
The clouds gather
The hearts of men waver

In the calm before the storm
The universe holds its breath

And in the calm within the storm
Every fibre of my being
Unleashes a primal scream

Insanity

2008-09-19T13:40:00.001+08:00

"Insanity - doing the same things but expecting different results."

- Albert Einstein

Teddy Bear Anonymous

2008-07-20T23:28:00.006+08:00

Scarlet Brown was a young teenager, full of life, sugar and spice. She was a cheerful and helpful girl and though she led a very-near-perfect life, she was never proud or boastful. Everyone loved Scarlet Brown, and really, she had everything she could wish for. However, one day, Scarlet Brown, with her brown eyes and brown hair, wished for a teddy bear.

So there they were, on that fateful day, in the first toy shop they saw. Scarlet browsed the shelves of soft toys, fingers lightly sweeping the dark mahogany panes, but found nothing to her liking. Disappointed, she shook her head at her parents and they made their way to the exit. As she glanced around the cluttered shop one last time, she suddenly spotted a matted brown ear poking out among the junk at the back of the shop, half hidden in the darkness. Scarlet’s hope now rejuvenated, she hastened towards it, and pulled out an old but soft and fluffy brown teddy bear with a matted ear. She instantly fell in love with the second-hand teddy bear. It took some persuasion and Scarlet’s big brown puppy-dog-eyes before her parents finally relented and bought the teddy bear.

Scarlet was absolutely smitten with her new teddy bear and she carried it around with her everywhere, showing it off whenever she could with such eagerness and pride, it startled a lot of the elderly. Even though they found it unnerving, they just smiled and shrugged it off, thinking it was just a phase.

One night, however, Scarlet suddenly had a nightmare. She was in a sea, and water stretched for miles all around her. Rain poured and lightning forked through the sky, illuminating the dark sky and dark sea surrounding Scarlet. No one heard or responded to her desperate cries for help. She swam for what felt like hours. Fatigue overtook her and she struggled to stay afloat. Slowly, but surely, she began to drown.

Scarlet woke up screaming, bathed in sweat. She at once grabbed her teddy bear closer to her and buried her face in its fur, whimpering softly. She did not dare go back to sleep and she stayed awake, murmuring prayers till the first rays of dawn filtered into her room.

She did not have this nightmare again until a fortnight later. This time, however, it was accompanied by whispers. She heard their mournful voices all around her, enclosing her in this empty void filled with fear and hate. It terrified Scarlet to no end. She told her parents about these nightmares as it began to occur more frequently, getting more horrible each time. For fear of falling asleep, Scarlet continuously took medications and coffee, becoming addicted to the drugs. Soon dark rings formed around her eyes and she became frail and weak. Her face had a ghastly look and she looked years older. Of course, Scarlet became very ill due to her insomnia and she lay bedridden, confined to the vicinity of her room. Her parents were worried sick, but no doctor or psychiatrist could cure her.

A week later, Scarlet disappeared thoroughly, taking her beloved teddy bear with her. No one knew how it happened. She was just suddenly gone. The police looked high and low, but there was not a trace of Scarlet Brown and her unnamed teddy bear. Driven by grief, Scarlet’s parents barred the door of her room and gloom reigned over the Brown household.

Two months later, a body was washed ashore and DNA proved it to be the Brown’s missing daughter, Scarlet. Everyone mourned for Scarlet’s death, for she was such a lovely girl, but none were as affected as her parents. Now mad beyond grief, they made an impulsive decision to move away. As the workers trudged out of their house from unbarring the doorway to Scarlet’s room, her mother pushed open the door. As she took in the dust-filled room and cobwebbed corners, she saw a small brown teddy bear sitting harmlessly on Scarlet’s pillow, dripping wet, with a piece of seaweed dangling from a matted ear, its mouth curved into a small smile.

FIN.

-Christine Ling

*written by Christine Ling, Ben Ling's sis and Eu Fern's classmate. Reprinted without permission.

Whoa, Malaysia's got talent.

Finding Peace

2008-07-16T23:05:00.001+08:00

"anger arises shadowing the love,
pain pierces raising the questions and the doubts,
counts of one to ten then ease them all out,
and bring one back to where one IS."

Jave's cousin, Sylvia

I could have

2008-07-07T14:57:00.003+08:00

I could have

I really could

I could

But I didn't

But now I will

A sign of gratitude? Or the opposite?

Real

2008-06-24T11:31:00.001+08:00

it
is breathtaking
magical,exciting
so they say

it
is resolute
intuitive, beautiful
so they portray

not lies, but
ideals, perhaps
for what i found
was reality
blunt and clumsy
less than
perfect

yet its value
soars
because
what we are
is real

-Maia-

Far (part 3 - End)

2008-06-15T16:29:00.000+08:00

As soon as I regained consciousness, I slowly got up into a sitting position. I was still in the same room, but alone this time. I sighed as I recalled Ben-Garth’s effort to “cheer me up”. Perhaps he thought I still had my long-gone promiscuous habits because when I was younger, beautiful women seemed to always take my mind off my problems. But not anymore – I had gotten married and I had a son... HAD a son...

Seth...

I loved him with all my heart. When he was a boy, I would play with him. Running in the fields, exploring the woods, swimming and fishing in brooks, practising magic... But as he grew, we drifted apart. I had to maintain a “macho”, steely outward appearance because it was needed, he needed to become a man on his own, and I believed he had it in him. I mean, come on, he’s my son, is he not?

But his becoming a man at the cost of our relationship... I wonder if my decision was the wiser one...

About 20 years ago, my son sent me a letter while he was at a faraway land. Here was how it went:

“Father,

Happy Father’s Day! I want you to know that I respect you. You are such a responsible and strong father, and I really appreciate that. I always look to you for guidance and I know you won’t fail me. Thank you for everything, father. I love you, my mentor and father.

Your son,

Seth.”

Well, it was more of a note than a letter but the length wasn’t an issue for me. That note brought me to tears because for the first time in a very very long time...I felt like a father, I felt like I had a son! I was a father – my pride restored!

I replied with a note which was almost just as short:

“Dear Son,

Thank you so much for the letter. I love you too, and I’m so proud of you! Keep working hard at whatever you do. Put your back into it!

Your father,

Asheroth.”

It took all the strength in me to pen down the word “love” because it would reveal the parts of me that have lain dormant for decades but now have been resurrected by my son’s note. A few years passed since that Father’s Day, and I was at the docks waiting for my son, hours before his ship’s arrival. Finally, after a long and patient wait, his ship came in and the gangplank was extended. As the passengers trickled out of the ship and passed by me, I craned my neck to catch sight of my son. And ho, there he was, the last one to get off the ship. He saw me too, and his face broke into a smile. Hurriedly, he half-dragged, half-carried his massive suitcase as he rushed towards me. I started walking towards him, yearning for our embrace.

He dropped his suitcase and began to run. And he was waving frantically. I spun on my heels, and time slowed down...

Poison dart... Too late...

The dart pierced my forehead between my eyes, and my body fell limp to the ground. People screamed and scattered in fear.

BIND!

I immobilized the assassin and pulled his mask off, revealing a very shocked face. I did not recognize him, and to my surprise he did not have a tattoo on his left cheek. Assassins were mercenaries, and each guild had their own tattoo.

“Nice shot, but that was my clone,” I told him coolly. “Now tell me, who sent you?”

He started to mumble some words.

“What? Speak up!” I shouted in his ear as I shook him roughly. I was very perplexed at that time because someone wanting me dead...was a very odd notion. Something fishy was going on!

The unmasked assassin continued mumbling, and I realised that he was repeating his words.

Curses, he’s chanting! No!

I barely managed to push him as far away from me as possible before I jumped aside to avoid the explosion. Who in the Blazes of Hell came with the idea of a suicide bomber? But why? WHY? WHY? WHY???

My head was ringing, and I was temporarily deaf. I couldn’t see properly. All I could do was lie on the ground, groaning and trying to make some sense of my surroundings. Seth rushed to my side.

“Father! Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

“What a clever question...” I muttered.

He smiled apologetically and replied, “Well, your sarcasm is still intact, so I guess you’re pretty fine.”

“That’s a very clever answer too,” I told him.

He sighed, slight frustration showing in his face. I cackled, and then coughed in pain because my chest was hurt by the blow from the blast.

“What’s the point behind all this?” asked Seth, as he slowly propped me up into a sitting position.

“I don’t know. A dart, then a suicide bomber? Targeted at me?” I said. The pain was slowly dissipating as my son used a healing spell on me.

“Save your energy, son,” I wanted to say but before I could utter a word...

Someone cast a spell!

A bolt of lightning zoomed towards us and it barely missed me, but it hit Seth and sent him flying into a wall almost ten feet away. Seth slammed into the wall, cracking it and he fell to the floor. On all fours, he coughed blood. His elbows shook then it gave way and he toppled.

“SETH!!!!” I called out.

I got up into a battle stance, ready to reap whatever arcane energy needed to defend ourselves and to capture the attacker. As I rushed towards my son’s motionless body, I watched the strands of energy in the area, watching for any minute changes in the flow that would betray the hidden attacker’s position.

“Come out and face me, magician!” I shouted. “Duel me!”

Still nothing happened. He must have fled. After a few moments, I decided to let my guard down in order to tend to my son. I started to weave the healing spell when he put his hands on mine, halting my progress. He knew it as much as I did. His internal wounds were beyond repair. Death was imminent. Death was sure.

Damn it!

I took him in my arm and tears welled in my eyes. My son, my son... My negligence caused all this. No, no, no...

“You know what Father... When you replied my letter, for the first time in a very very long time, I felt like I had a father,” Seth struggled to speak in between coughs. He smiled, as beads of tears flowed down his bloody cheeks.

“Asheroth...”

I turned and saw Lady Sixor.

“I am most grieved by the loss of your offspring’s life, not only because I fathom your feelings, but also because of a greater cause. However, I am not at liberty to disclose to you the reason behind all these tragic events.”

I clenched my jaws and fists. Greater cause? She reached out her right hand with her palm facing upwards, and gently flicked her fingers.

Then life left Seth’s body.

I buried Seth myself. And I wondered if I ought to feel any anger or hatred. Vengeance? I don’t know, I was just... numb. I bought myself some new clothes, and burned my blood-stained ones. When I got home, Es-Qara asked me where our son was. I lied to her, saying that he never came back. I assumed that she didn’t believe me because she didn’t ask anything else.

“Asheroth?” Ben-Garth called out to me, waking me from my reminiscing. He and Reuben entered the room.

“Don’t say sorry,” I said. “Just give me my clothes back.”

Camelia walked in with a cake in her hands. It had a long, lighted candle.

“As an apology,” she said demurely, sincerity showing.

I sighed and waved them over.

I blew the candle and cut the cake.

Happy Father’s Day, Asheroth.

Lost

2008-06-12T22:26:00.002+08:00

A swordsman without his blade
A musician without sound
An artist without his brush
A singer without melody
A warrior without a cause
An army without a banner

Scattered and defeated
Weathered and worn
But worse of all

Lost.

Colour

2008-06-08T13:37:00.003+08:00

Black and white, black and white
Shades of grey in between
Right and wrong, left and right,
Oh, so simple, so clean

But nothing is ever so simple, is it?
Nothing is ever so fine
Life's more than just rhythm, more than just beat
It's MUSIC, melody and rhythm combined

See you not the colours between?
The brilliant hues and subtle shades?
White is but a disguise, black an illusion
Put to shame by colourful confusion

Red, blue, yellow and green
Mixed and matched with shades in-between
I can't see them all, but I don't care
I see enough to be aware

Aware that sometimes the colours matter
Aware that perspectives are monochrome
Aware that trying to build something better
Requires eyes more than just my own

So even when the music dies
So colour lives, vibrant and ALIVE

-Asheroth-

Far (part 2)

2008-06-07T23:48:00.006+08:00

"Aww come on Asheroth! Cheer up!" bellowed Ben-Garth, obviously inebriated from too much ale.

I was still sulking. I broke up with Galena. No, she dumped me. She cheated on me. I downed another tankard of ale, then regretted doing it. I struggled to hold the contents of my stomach in. The din in the Red Tavern wasn't exactly helping my throbbing head either.

"What's the matter?" asked Ben-Garth. He gave me a smack on the back.

I belched and everything came out. The roast pork and all the ale. All over the table and the floor. Barmaids screamed and nimbly jumped aside to avoid the stinking cud-like stuff. My friends guffawed.

I was done, and I looked up to see Ben-Garth turning green. He turned away and barfed as well. I joined my friends in laughing at him.

Suddenly I burst out in tears.

I grabbed Ben-Garth's collar and yanked him roughly.

"Why?" I asked.

Ben-Garth suddenly looked sober.

"Why?" I reiterated.

"I don't know, brother of my soul," came the reply.

"Listen Asheroth," said Reuben, clumsily climbing over our table to sit next to me. "I have no idea - hell, I think even all the gods of the Blazing Hells have no idea - why on Edenia would she leave you."

I looked at Reuben. He drank from the tankard in his hand and continued.

"And more astounding is, she left you for sissy Keltho! Which sane, normal woman, would want a stinking 'prince' from the gods-know-where kingdom of whichever suckling pig, a lousy 'prince' like that asshole Keltho?"

"Aye!" My other friends cried in unison, and almost at the same time drank their ale.

"What an ungrateful bitch!"

"Aye!"

"Forget her, dear friend!" cried Reuben.

"Aye!"

Reuben put his arm around me and said, "Don't worry, we know how to fix this, no?"

He whistled, and waved at the bartender. After a short while, a busty barmaid came by and took my arm. She was as strong as a mare, and she pulled me off my seat. My friends cheered, hooted and whistled.

Reuben pinched the woman's buttock and said to her, "Give him a good time, aye?"

I staggered upstairs as the busty barmaid half-led, half-dragged me upstairs the Red Tavern. I stumbled into an empty room. It smelt of flowers - jasmine, rose and daisy. What happened next was a blur...

Undressing... Kissing... Caressing... Love-making...

The next morning I woke up with a splitting headache. But feeling the warm body of that busty barmaid next to mine... it sort of compensated for the hangover. And the heartache left by Galena.

***

"So how do you feel now?" asked Ben-Garth.

"Better."

He laughed.

"I bet ten gold pieces that you want to do it all over again," said Reuben.

I blushed.

They roared with laughter.

Far (part 1)

2008-06-07T18:01:00.005+08:00

Ben-Garth jabbed me in the ribs, disrupting my day-dreaming.

"What's with that look?" he asked.

"What look?"

"What look you ask?" he asked slightly annoyed at my pretending.

I shrugged.

"You know what I mean."

I sighed.

He sighed too.

"Listen Asheroth, you've gotta get yourself together. You're the one who's been stressing on how important it is to stay focussed, not to let personal matters get in the way of business," said Ben-Garth.

My chest felt heavy. Not again. No.

"If you won't talk about it, then fine. But, you must come with me," he continued.

I looked at my old friend's face. He offered his hand, and I took it. He promptly pulled me to my feet. He gave me a slap on my back and rested his arm around my shoulder as we walked towards the town.

My head was blank, my mind was blank. Blank.

Don't. Want. To. Think.

I walked absent-mindedly with Ben-Garth guiding me through the town streets.

"Here we are - The Red Tavern," he said after we walked for a while.

The Red Tavern. Old memories. Lots of ale, lots of fights. And lots of nights with whores in the upper floor of this tavern. Ben-Garth feeling nostalgic tonight?

We stepped into the tavern and Reuben, the owner who was also our close friend, bellowed a greeting. He waved us over, and we went to sit at counter.

"Ho, how long has it been, fellas?" said Reuben in his deep, growling voice. He gave a wide grin.

Ben-Garth whispered something into Reuben's ears and his facial expression changed.

"Oh..." said Reuben, his face showing apprehension. "I'll see what I can do."

Reuben placed two tankards of his best ale on the counter as he called for Camelia, one of his servants. Something fishy was going on, and I had a feeling that I was going to be the centre of all the soon to come hoo-ha. I cautiously sipped on my ale. It didn't smell or taste wrong, so I downed the whole mug. Something inside my head told me that I had just done something very unwise.

"Yes, Master Reuben?" asked Camelia as she appeared from the stairs.

Reuben winked and pointed a finger at me.

Wait, something's wrong....???

"Help me bring him upstairs," said Reuben. Ben-Garth put my right arm over his shoulders as Reuben took my left arm.

Why am I not fighting? What's happening? Blast, so they did drug me.

They brought me up the stairs then into a dim candle-lit room with no windows. I could smell flowers - jasmine, rose, daisy. Then they let me lie on the soft, comfortable bed. I watched the men exiting the room, leaving Camelia. She looked at me as she locked the door.

I tried to get up, suddenly realising what they're planning. Oh, so sweet of them. NOT.

"Please mi'lord," said Camelia in a soft, seductive voice as she tiptoed towards me. "Let me do my work."

"No," I began to retort. "I.. thrink yoush.."

What? Curses, the drug's effects.... I was a blabbering old man sitting on the edge of a bed, with a young nubile girl who was about to make love to me without my consent. Or perhaps the drug's aphrodisiac effect will kick in soon, and the act could no longer be considered rape.

Camelia slowly loosed her gown. "I can help you forget the pain... if you just let me..."

I closed my eyes. My mind was on fire - I can't focus. Damned drug. Neurons firing random impulses. Random sensations at random places. Random images flashing in my eyes. Random random random.

Relax. Gather energy.

Camelia was totally nude in front of me now. Her body was lithe, lovely. Her breasts, her hips, her legs, it seemed like she was glowing. She kissed my lips gently, and her hand was slowly encouraging my manhood.

Relax. Gather energy.

She climbed onto my lap, and pressed her soft breasts against my face. Her hand was still exciting my manhood, and I felt myself hardening.

Gather. Gather. Gather..... GATHER!

She pushed my chest and I fell. My body landed on the soft bed. She undressed me.

I felt my body tingling. Starting to loose control. Damn it, I want that girl!

No, I must not loose it. Just a bit more energy....

Camelia was kissing me everywhere, moaning softly. I was getting pretty excited. It felt good. The drug must have enhanced my senses. Her butterfly lips on my chest, slowly moving towards my belly. She was going lower and lower...

Gather. Gather. Release!

BIND!

I managed to cast the spell! Camelia screamed as an invisible force pushed her away roughly. Invisible cords gripped her arms and legs, rendering her unable to move, and unable to continue her "work". I heaved a sigh of relief, and I was sweating from the effort. I passed out just as I saw Reuben and Ben-Garth coming through the door.

Faust, Midas, And Myself

2008-05-28T21:14:00.002+08:00

This one's about a dream
I had last night
How an old man tracked me home
And stepped inside
Put his foot inside the door
And gave a crooked smile
Something in his eyes
Something in his laugh
Something in his voice
That made my skin crawl off

Said I've seen you before
I know your name
How you can have your pick
Of pretty things
You could have it all
Everything at once
Everything you've seen
Everything you need
Everything you've ever had in fantasies

You've one life
You've one life
One life left to lead

I woke up from my dream
As a golden man
With a girl I've never seen
With golden skin
I jumped to my feet
She asked me what was wrong
I began to scream
I don't think this is me
Is this just a dream
Or really happening?

You've one life
You've one life
One life left to lead

What direction?
What direction?
I'm splitting up!
I'm splitting up!
This is my personal disaffection

What direction?
What direction?
What direction now?

I looked outside the glass
At golden shores
Golden ships and golden masts
With golden cords
As my reflection passed
I hated what I saw
The golden eyes were dead
A thought passed through my head
A heart's that's made of gold can't really beat at all

I wanted to wake up again
I wanted to wake up again
Without a touch of gold
Without a touch of gold

What direction?
What direction?
What direction?
What direction?
Life begins at the intersection
What direction?
What direction?

I woke up as before
But the gold was gone
My wife was at the door
With a night robe on
My heart beat once or twice
And life flooded my veins
Everything had changed
My lungs have found their voice
And what was once routine
Was now the perfect joy

You've one life
You've one life
One life left to lead

****

Yet another song by Switchfoot - "Faust, Midas, And Myself" from their album Oh! Gravity.

First kiss

2008-05-26T18:10:00.002+08:00

Dark night.

The small, crescent moon gives forth a gentle glow, spilling dim light onto our faces.

She smiles softly as we finally reach her doorstep.

"Goodnight," I whisper.

I take one step backwards.

"I want to hug you..." she whispers back.

She surges forward and clutches me in her arms.

She holds me so tightly, just like how she holds my hand so tightly when we walk, I think.

She lets go, to look at my face, and then leans forward and our lips touch. Gently, gently she kissed me. I could feel her dry, cracked lips, meeting with my soft lips.

"I love you. Goodnight..."

***

I awaken with a sudden sense of alarm. I find myself in my bedroom.

Dark. Soundless.

Alone.

Damn, I was dreaming.

I closed my eyes again, and slowly I drifted back into sleep with a sense of hope.

American Dream

2008-05-14T00:11:00.004+08:00

When success is equated with excess
The ambition for excess wrecks us
As top of the mind becomes the bottom line
When success is equated with excess

If your time ain't been nothing for money
I start to feel really bad for you, honey
Maybe honey, put your money where your mouth's been running
If your time ain't been nothing but money

I want out of this machine
It doesn't feel like freedom

This ain't my American dream
I want to live and die for bigger things
I'm tired of fighting for just me
This ain't my American dream

When success is equated with excess
When we're fighting for the Beamer, the Lexus
As the heart and soul breath in the company goals
Where success is equated with excess

'Cause baby's always talkin' 'bout a ring
And talk has always been the cheapest thing
Is it true would you do what I want you to
If I show up with the right amount of bling?

Like a puppet on a monetary string
Maybe we've been caught singing
Red, white, blue, and green
But that ain't my America,
That ain't my American dream

-American Dream, by Switchfoot from their Oh! Gravity album

Dawn

2008-05-13T02:08:00.002+08:00

The blackness, the darkness
The gloom, it looms
It comes upon me
It swallows up the air
It swallows up the day

In the shadows, I sit
I ponder and I wonder
Holding the broken pieces
Clutching these shattered pieces
Asking what is missing
From the life I'm living

But as I light this candle
As I rekindle this flame
A tiny little spark
Brighter than the outside dark
I'll hold on
Until
All melts away
Until sunshine comes again
Until You're all that's left behind

The blackness, the darkness
The gloom, it looms
As it comes, on me it comes upon
I shall wait and I shall wait
For You to bring the dawn.

Let's grow old together

2008-05-08T02:58:00.003+08:00

*not an Edenia-related post

Sometimes when you open the Google homepage, the word "Google" is displayed in interesting and creative ways. Especially during festive seasons and so on.

This was how it looked like on Valentine's Day:

Since I didn't have Photoshop, I tried something with Paint instead. Actually I wanted to copy the picture above.

But this came out instead.

I showed it to my girlfriend.

Me: "Haiya.. tak jadi ler..."
She: "NO!!! JADI JADI!! xD"

Crazy

2008-05-03T04:42:00.001+08:00

It's funny how things never work out the way I want.

-------

Hmm

She

seems

to get pretty stressed out sometimes

or lonely perhaps.

She needs an escape

a way to feel happy, even if it's just for a while.

What does she need?

A boyfriend.

But

who

would want to be her

Boyfriend.

Why not me?

---------

"You know what I told myself?" she said.

I just kept quiet.

"I can't imagine myself being with you, you're way too emotional," she said.

"But look at where we are now."

It's so crazy. Crazy. CRAZY. I don't know how else to highlight how crazy my situation is. Of course, it's crazy in a good sense.

Crazy.

---------

P/S Jwern, this is one of the things I wanna share with you. Can't wait for Kuching. :)

Silence

2008-04-29T07:49:00.002+08:00

In the storm I seek
That quiet spot of oblivion
Whose sigh of momentary relief
Belies the ominous eye that bequeaths
The sound of silence

The winds of time
Engulf the ocean of serenity
I am caught
A tiny sailor on boiling seas

But within my cabin
The doors are shut
Music drowns the howling winds
My safe harbour lies within

But the knocks are insistent
Finally I relent
Tearing down the walls
I allow Chaos to come in
She smiles beatifically

I open myself to her and she overwhelms me
Leading me to the very edges of the universe itself
Where Logic and Reason are destroyed

But even in that place between Space and Time
To my wonder I still do find
The sounds of silence that I once thought lost
Now come to be eternally mine

-Asheroth-

Someday

2008-04-22T01:45:00.001+08:00

Someday, I say,
someday
The longing
resonating
my heart
quietly aching
If only someday
came today.

Someday, you say,
someday
We'll realize
white-washed hopes and painted dreams
of dancing in the rain,
sunshine and ice-cream,
the warmth of gold and purple hues
splashing across the sunset.

But we both know
Someday
remains someday
not tomorrow, not today
With wistful smiles
and wishful hearts
We'll trace promises in sand
and say
someday
Maybe someday.

-Maia-

Fences

2008-04-21T12:28:00.002+08:00

I built a fence,
A fence so long
It's end I couldn't see.
Why is a fence?
Where is a fence?
I don't want one for me!

-Dibs, age five

*not an original Edenia post

Mind and Body

2008-04-19T02:18:00.003+08:00

Enter Psyche and Soma.

Psyche: I never see thy face but when I think upon hell-fire.

Soma: How now, wool-sack, what mutter you?

Psyche: Thou art a very ragged wart.

Soma: You scullion! You rampallion! You fustilarion! I'll tickle your catastrophe!

Psyche: Pernicious bloodsucker of sleeping men! Viperous worm that gnaws at bowels!

Soma: Thou damned tripe-visaged rascal! Leave me be!

Exit Soma.

Psyche: *rolls eyes* (Muttering softly) I could brain him with his lady's fan.

Exeunt.

Eureka!

2008-04-18T00:35:00.002+08:00

I've actually come up enough ~~wild~~ ideas to be published in a book!

My ideas.
Though not necessarily original.
But definitely my own and hopefully something exciting.

Jia Wern, we simply NEED to spend a few hours at Coffee Bean or somewhere, and write the ideas down. I'm bursting with all these thoughts and ideas!

Haha, catch up with you in Kuching! Maybe we can ask Maia to join us.
~~Then she can be Es-Qara, JWern can be Asheroth, and I'll be drunken Ben-Garth.~~

A letter to a lover

2008-04-16T16:01:00.002+08:00

Dear beloved,

Look into a mirror, any mirror. What do you see?
Long black hair, brown eyes, a nose, pink lips, pimpled cheeks, dark skin, and so on.

But if I were to stand beside you as you look into the mirror, I would tell you what I see.

I see:
Beauty
Strength
Purity
Gentleness
Honesty
Faithfulness
Patience
Wisdom
Hope
Peace
Joy

You mean so much to me, and I thank you so much for always being there for me.

P/S I love you too.

You, who?

2008-04-05T04:53:00.002+08:00

Angela

I was short of breath as I made my way out of the cafe, it was as though I had participated in a thousand mile marathon. I was determined to leave with as much composure as I could gather, to exhibit some form of bravado. My right hand clutched onto my tote tightly, but my other hand went up to my eyes instinctively, trying to wipe away the fallen beads of salt-laced moisture. The very tears that I kept from flowing before the conversation with her even started.

It was much easier than I had imagined it though - sitting down and having a civilized conversation with someone I would have loved to hate, yet couldn't bring myself to. The words came to me rather naturally, like I had rehearsed them for twenty times the night before. Rehearsed, I had not. Debate, I did. There was an ongoing debate playing out in my head ever since I decided to let this little meeting happen.

Of course, I could have argued that it wasn't my place to say anything. It really was none of my business, after all. I didn't have to tell her. I didn't have to let her know. Her being, of course, Diana. She looked surprised -a little taken aback, even- when I told her everything I knew. Matter of fact, I was still more than a little surprised at myself too.

I didn't do it out of the goodness of my heart. Believe me, I am not nearly noble or kind enough. I really did like James, a lot. But if it was one thing that I've learned all these years, it is that some things cannot be forced. Especially when it comes to feelings. I smirked, amazed at the thoughts I came up with. 'When did spoilt Angela learn to grow up?'

I walked and walked for what seemed like hours, and finally half stumbled onto what looked like a path in a park. I could hear the faint laughter of children and barking dogs in the far distance, hidden in plain view by the tall trees along the pathway. Nature, greenery. Just what I needed. 'A little fresh air would do my head some good,' I thought to myself.

I must have been pretty focused on getting my self-recommended dose of pure oxygen because the next thing I know, I was sitting on the gravel, amidst the pebbles and sand. To say I was disoriented was probably an understatement, I literally had the wind knocked out of me. I must have sat there for a minute or two before I noticed a hand reaching out for mine. I looked up to see a guy around my age, he was staring at me with a look filled with apology and concern. His handsome face was familiar yet I could not place him. Where have I seen him before? I definitely would be able to distinguish his face in a crowd. Hmm...

"Are you alright?" his voice rang through the humid air, subsequently bringing me back from my memory sorting.

I nodded quickly.

He continued to let his arm dangle in front of me, probably thinking I was a lunatic for not getting up by now.
I contemplated for a spilt second before deciding to grasp his hand, he pulled me up and I proceeded to steady myself.

"Ouch!" a sharp pain pulsated up my arm. I had scraped my elbow in the process of breaking my fall.

I am continually amazed by my stunning grace and elegance.

"I am so sorry, I didn't see you when I was turning the corner there," the kind stranger said as he pointed to what looked like the end of the path.

"It's okay, I didn't see you either," I felt bad as well and was half apologizing to him.

He lead me toward a bench and sat me down.

"You're bleeding," he made a rather trivial statement, as if he was making a mental note to himself.

He then produced a handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to hand it to me. "Here, use this,"

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine," I assured him and managed a smile.

"No, at least use it to clean up the wound a bit,"

I was not in the mood to argue so I just obliged and said thanks.
He, on the other hand, was looking like he didn't know what to do with himself now as he sat beside me. I gave him a quick sideway glance and came to conclude that he was obviously out for a run, he was clad in a sweatshirt and a pair sneakers.

In an attempt to break the silence, I decided that I should at least introduce myself.

"Um. I'm Angela, by the way," I uttered, a little awkwardly.

It's not everyday that you meet someone you literally 'bumped into'.

"Oh, nice to meet you. Rather unfortunate we should meet like this though," he smiled easily. "I'm Marshall, for the record I'm not usually this careless,"

We spent the next ten minutes or so chatting. I would have continued the conversation had I not remembered that I was supposed to be elsewhere. My father was going to disown me if I show up late for another one of his important dinner parties.

"Goodness!" I cried as I noticed what time it was already.

"What's wrong?"

"I've got to run," I grabbed my bag as I continued, "It was really great meeting you though, Marshall,"

He laughed and said, "Oh, I don't know about that. You got yourself hurt in the process,"

We said goodbye hastily and I marched towards the exit of the secluded park. On the way out, I realized that I still had his handkerchief with me. I stopped in my tracks and waved the piece of cloth at him. He was still sitting on the bench, leaning over and fixing his shoe laces. I was about to give up and leave when he looked up. He seemed to understand my gestures well enough as he yelled for me to "Just keep it!"

I examined the now slightly bloodstained handkerchief, and ran my finger across a little embroidered letter M on one of the corners.

'I'll return the handkerchief to its owner,' I thought to myself as I hailed and got in a taxi. Only later did I remember that I had no way of contacting him. 'One day.'

-Rachelle-

Skin deep

2008-03-25T01:25:00.003+08:00

Mr Murray

I looked into the mirror. A well-dressed, sharp-looking man stared back. Brushing an imaginary speck of dust off the suit I wore, I studied the image. Life had been kind to me, at least on the surface. My image was perfect, save for the long, faded scar that began on the right side of my neck that disappeared underneath my collar. As always, I traced the scar, feeling and relieving the fiery pain that still smoldered within. There were more scars below, hidden by my shirt, and not all of them were skin-deep. Looking away, I sat down at the mahogany desk, my eyes drawn to the family photo in the ornate photo frame displayed proudly for my clients' viewing. The American Dream. The perfect family. Happy and smiling, safe and secure. Skin-deep. No one sees the tightness in her throat, the tension in my shoulders, or the hand clenched into a fist behind his body. All they see are the smiles. Skin-deep.

A sudden fire welled up in my heart as my eyes fell on the little boy standing with his sister in the middle of the picture. My son, James. My rightful heir. The boy that I had carefully groomed and cultivated in the hope that he would one day become all that I had failed to be. The boy that I had loved with all my heart. And he had been on the brink of throwing his life away. For her. His daughter. The scar on my neck throbbed. For a brief moment my heart filled with an unreasonable sense of betrayal. But I knew it was unreasonable, because James did not know, and so I willed it away. I had done enough. I had hurt James, but I did not regret it. She would only have led him astray. Led him to destruction. I knew because she looked exactly like her father. And I knew her father. Oh, I knew him very well indeed.

My eyes shifted to the left. Frances. I wondered where she was now. She moved out the first chance she got, and never spoke to me again. Even her mother would not tell me anything about her. For the umpteenth time, I wondered where I had gone wrong.

The rapping on the door caught my attention. "Come in," I said immediately. Ah, Marshall. I liked this one. Hardworking, responsible, a tad sad puppy-like, and most importantly, naive. Perfect for my purposes.

"You called me, sir?"
"Yes, yes. I wanted to talk to you."
"What about, sir?"
"I will be hosting a function tonight. And I want you to be present."
"Me, sir? I'm honoured."
"Yes, you, son. You've put up a good job performance around here. That's why I'm going to show you off to the bigshots. Oh, and before I forget, I suggest you bring a date. You know, James' ex-girlfriend. Just ask her out for the night - it'll help sharpen up your image of togetherness. And in this political business, son, your image is everything."
"Sir, I'm not too sure..."
"He won't be there tonight - he's out of town for the weekend. Don't worry. Just ask her for a favour as a friend."
"Alright, I'll ask her, sir. Thanks."
"Be here at 7 sharp. Remember, your image is everything."
"Yes, sir."

The door creaked shut behind him, and I leaned back onto the padded chair in satisfaction. Marshall, oh, Marshall. You're so in love with her. Anyone can see that. And so, you shall be the perfect instrument in keeping them apart. Diana will never hurt James again.

-Maia-

Delusions

2008-03-18T14:09:00.003+08:00

It comes
It comes!

Fiery fire painless pain
Burning flesh and making rain
Rubbing salt into the wound
Dig out your eyeballs with a spoon

Gratification! Whereupon hence?
Go now my brother, into!
Into!
The seal
The pit
The fiery fire!

Die, fool!
Ignominious moron
Thinkest thou ruinest I?
I?

Cackling laughter makest me
Chatter-hungry lady be
For the pie before I dine
Drinketh thou with pretty wine

Go now, go now!
Fire, fear, foes!
Anger knows, anger goes
Killeth me and eatest thou

Feed the blood, fan the flame
No more suffering, no more shame
Only left with pitiest pyre
The body hung over the fire

Evil! Evil! Oh, oh!
Nothing, save me, all alone!
Tend to me you cowardly dunce
Faerie lust before the moon

Emptiness without
Reigning within queen
Of hell
Night and darkness
Beats, Time mourns
Forever lost alone, alone

The sun! It burns!
You will feel the flames soon enough
I cannot stop the sickness
And cannot fend of the madness
Consumes me
Overtakes me
Wildness whereupon within!

GO NOW!
Into the fires of damnation
Let heaven mourn

And leave me alone
Leave me alone

-The Madman-

Homecoming

2008-03-16T06:24:00.003+08:00

James

The sea breeze felt cool against the skin of my face. I let the warm, salty smell of the sea envelope me in its comfort. The sea that had kept us apart for so long, but the sea that was also now bringing me back. To her.

We were very near land now. We couldn't be more than three hours away. I could hear the seagulls screaming overhead, welcoming me home.

I went back into the cabin and sat. For some strange reason I felt nervous. I twiddled my thumbs and ran my hand through my hair. I fixed her image in my mind. The image that I had cherished in my memory. We were still best friends, then. Her smile lit up the entire room. I wondered if she had changed. Would she look the same, smell the same, feel the same?

I closed my eyes and leaned back, reveling in the memories of her.

***

The ship blared its horn and I woke up with a start. Looking up the window, I saw that we were docked already. I felt disappointed with myself. I had wanted to be on deck when we neared the shore, so that I could try spotting her in the crowd, to ease my anxiousness. I had wanted to be the first to spot her, to be able to fix in my mind the memory of her drawing closer as the ship neared. But it was too late for that now.

Gingerly I grabbed my carry-on and stood up. The deck was crowded with passengers attempting to disembark. I joined the throng, but my mind was far away. All that I could think of was the mass of people below, those who had come to meet the ship. Somewhere among them was Diana, waiting for me. Waiting for ME.

Forcing myself to move unhurriedly, I made my way to the gangplank. I tried to paste a nonchalant expression on my face but could only manage a silly grin. I reached the bottom and looked around, wondering why I hadn't spotted her by now. Then I saw her, and the silly grin became a nervous smile.

She approached me, smiling like an angel. I tried to say something but could not, so tongue-tied was I in her presence. I marveled at her peace of mind.

"Hey," she said pleasantly. She looked at me expectantly. I was about to raise my hand in reply when I noticed she was blushing. Her normally fair face was pale pink, giving away her own apprehension. All of a sudden my nervousness melted away, and I grinned, then chuckled. Diana was not a girl easily taken with apprehension. She smiled, though her eyes were questioning.

"You're blushing," I said. She continued smiling but blushed even deeper at my words. She opened her mouth to say something in return but I enveloped her in a hug before she said another word. I felt her stiffen in surprise, then she softened and hugged me back tightly.

"I missed you," I whispered into her ear, but it came out as a strangled "Mrsshu". She pulled away and looked at me quizzically. "You said something?"

I looked up, took a deep breath, then looked back at her.

"I missed you."

This time it came out right, but I felt my face starting to heat up. She smiled, and playfully touched my nose.

"Who's blushing now?" she asked with a grin.

I smiled, and hugged her again.

I was home.