Take shape

So exhausted, you will not believe.


On the other hand, I couldn't resist making eggs for breakfast because well... I LOVE OUR NEW PLACE. It is très magnifique.

'Oh look, we have created enchantment.'

On a random note, I just watched A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) and Marlon Brando... HUBBA HUBBA. Sure, Vivien Leigh was astounding as usual; brilliant acting, a style icon, the regular femme fatale, etc etc.

Words, however, could not describe the way I felt when Brando stood beneath the stairwell with a ripped up white tee and his hands clutching his face, yelling 'Hey, Stella!' in that heart-wrenching voice. Of course, it did not hurt that most of the upper half of his body was exposed during the brief scene.


Melted like goo on the couch, and still feeling the same now. Marlon, why do you make me go all jelloid?

It's a boxed-up world

In the past two weeks, I've inhaled countless dust bunnies and taped together one too many disintegrating cardboard boxes. Packing gets too tiring after all. But let's face it, we all secretly enjoy the chore. It's a treasure trove waiting to be discovered at the back of your drawer and a nostalgic pill rifling through old photos & letters.

Right now though, my once-colourful room (post-its, band posters and pin-up polaroids) has become a blank canvas. Absolutely boring. Can't wait to shift in 36 hours time and mess up a whole other room! Been to the new crib a couple of times to help set things up and I'm proud to say that I put together a chair with my own bare hands!

Of course, I did it a hundred wrong ways, even with idiot-proof IKEA instructions and only 8 bolts to screw in. I did it in the end though, to prove my doubtful parental units wrong! Ha.



HOW-KANG AWAITS. Guess who my parents are voting for on Election day.

One cell in the sea

To feel so empty
Oh touch me
to see if I'm alive

I need to create a world
need to lie in revelry
where art knows no bounds
where leaves hang like poetry
So kiss me
We will be safe there

Now we're floating
on seas made of thread,
made of raindrops,
made of tears,
you made me your own
on this beautiful island

We will be safe here


__________________________________________


Feeling lost, fascinated, creative, frustrated, bewildered, full of ideas but no one to hear them, alone, & lost again.

Between inanimate objects

Love Letter from the Toothbrush to the Bicycle Tire
by Sarah Kay

They told me that I was meant for the cleaner life!
That you would drag me through the mud.
They said that you would tread all over me,
That they could see right through you,
That you were full of hot air.

That I would always be chasing,
always watching you,
chase after sleeker models
that would be a vicious cycle.

But I know better.
I know about your rough edges
and I have seen your perfect curves.
I will fit into whatever spaces you let me
If loving you means getting dirty,
then bring on the grime!
I will leave this porcelain home behind
I'm used to twice-a-day relationships
But with you
I'd take all the time!

And I know we live in different worlds,
and we're always really busy
But in my dreams
you spin around me so fast
I always wake up dizzy

So maybe one day,
you'll grow tired of the road
and roll on back to me
And when I blink my eyes into morning,
Your smile,
Will be the only one I see.

And then I would crawl onto your lap

The only word to express this is... Wow.

Meh.

Note to self: do not paint props while feeling groggy/extremely tired and thinking you'll live through it. Instead you'll wake up with a cheek-ful of red paint!

Also, I think I've sprained my hipbone. From what physical activity, I wonder. Was it from sitting in front of a PC all day, slouching in front of the telly, or walking from my bedroom to the refrigerator to get more chocolate buttons? Urgh gluttony defeats all.

My hip really, really, hurts though.

Ideas for a room, room for ideas

Packing, photographic projects, a Shakespeare medley, snapple bottle caps, hippie jeans, the back of a thick vinyl, memories in a cardboard box, a hat rack, the word 'quintessential', framed vintage posters, ice-cream stickers, keep calm and... , daydreaming, crayons and watercolors, sorting 500 CDs into 500 CD cases, curdoroy fish, a poetry collection splattered on walls, guitar picks shoved in places, more packing, a long-lost song lyric, fragrances, an oddly-shaped vase, making decisions, marlon brando calendars, french grammar books, punk-rock murals (better known as the remnants of preteen angst), a blues guitar-slide, thinking that the packing never really ends, headbands, the leather satchel I love, letters, a cream-coloured room, games we used to play, an old friend called procrastination, stuffed animals, a tangle of wires, toy cameras, dustballs, a picture of you and me, sweaters and cardigans, I hate packing, I love packing, a harmonica, a painting of a bowl of fruit, old coca-cola bottles, striped socks, rusty brownie cookie tins, duct tape, books, books and more books.

Where people are pleasantly strange

Sun been down for days
A pretty flower in a vase
A slipper by the fireplace
A cello lying in its case

Soon she's down the stairs
Her morning elegance she wears
The sound of water makes her dream
Awoken by a cloud of steam
She pours a daydream in a cup
A spoon of sugar sweetens up

And She fights for her life
As she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
As it pours
And she fights for her life
As she goes in a store
With a thought she has caught
By a thread
She pays for the bread
And She goes...
Nobody knows

Sun been down for days
A winter melody she plays
The thunder makes her contemplate
She hears a noise behind the gate
Perhaps a letter with a dove
Perhaps a stranger she could love

We melt like butter on the tables

Through the curious keyhole
I see with open eyes
a precarious situation
I love too much to sacrifice

This is not new circumstance
I've fallen down this rabbit hole
time and time again
Meet me down there
two curious souls

Rewriting tales of folklore
we belong to imprints
on the flyleaf of your novel
We are myths
too great to be conquered

A tour of your magical mind
I can only believe
this will not end too soon

Buy me an ice-cream?

Today whilst looking at furniture at IKEA, the entire family (except mom) started fooling around with the random household appliances, as usual. This resulted in dad accidentally pushing against the emergency fire-escape door handle and setting off the alarm, holding two embarrassingly large lampshades in his hands.

Needless to say, we all proceeded to briskwalk to a ten-metre radius distance and laugh.



4:12am and I'm watching The Office episode where Michael attempts to force Meredith into going to alcohol rehabilitation. I don't want to go to work tomorrow :/