We start walking
It is chilly outside
The sky overhead is grey and cloudy
Obviously
Turn the corner
Noticed: Cigarette butts lying on the side of the pavement-the line where the grass meets the concrete
Someone was evidently staking out
The question is who?
And why?
Ssssshhhhhhhhh …..…
Keep walking
Noticed: A discarded McDonalds Happy meal carton with fries surrounding it.
Some kid didn’t like their Happy meal.
Or on the more believable side- just threw a tantrum because they didn’t get the burger they wanted
The fries smell so good and looks so lonely that you almost want to pick them and introduce them to the contents of your stomach.
Like any psychopath would.
I resist.
Keep walking
And walking
Walking……
A motorcycle zips by
ZOOM
I smile like a kid who just opened her Christmas presents and found a hundred Barbie dolls
I look excitedly around.
No one appears to have noticed the sexy Harley Davidson zip by with the equally sexy motorcycle dude on it.
I look dejected like a kid who just found out she got 10 Barbie dolls instead of 100.
Keep trooping.
A car alarm beeping because some asshole probably bumped into it accidentally –on –purpose
I don’t know why.
Ask him
He probably needed some extra cash.
No owner running down to see what happened to the car
Walking
Walkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalk
Blah blah blah
Stop walking
Do a 180 degree turn
Walk back home
The car alarm is sill blaring
Haven’t they heard of noise pollution?
Noticed: Crushed cigarette packet with the words ‘SMOKING KILLS’ emblazoned across it.
No one really cares.
At least the guy who bought the packets doesn’t
I shake my head at the stupidness and pig-headedness of those who pick up a cigarette packet and keep on walking
Turn onto my street
Another motorcycle zooms by
ZIP
An evil /excited/happy/jubilant/exultant smile spreads across my face.
This time I don’t bother to look and see if anyone else saw it
Instead, I just gaze at the bike adoringly, lovingly as it races down the street and I make a promise to date a biker.
Preferably one who wears leather jackets ,so I can borrow them and look cool .
And I can ride on the back of his equally sexy bike and everyone will know me as the girl who dates the biker.
Maybe we will even fall in love.
And get married.
And then one day our marriage will break because he will be caught in a drug bust and then everyone will know me as the girl whose husband is in jail.
Well.
It was just a dream.
Keep walking.
Near the familiar lights of home-a red brick house with an enormous lawn and an overgrown hedge.
I smell chicken curry.
Yummmm.
Walk terminated.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
mylovestory
When it stops raining ,it stops slowly.
The sun begins to peek out and the street is still wet.
The trees still drip-the weight of water too much for their thin limbs to handle.
You are standing there.
The rain caught up with you and you are trying to shake the water away.But it clings to your hair like a child that will not let go.
I am outside my house.My coat is drawn around me.You are at the end of the street and I know you want to talk.
I dont want to talk.I just want to remember.The way my head fit into the curve where your neck and shoulder meet.When we hold hands it is like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle finding each other.
The clouds are moving apart.It is becoming brighter as you walk closer.I want to race into the house and lock the door so that you cannot come in.You dont come any closer.
You knock at Anne's house.She opens the door.You say something,she laughs and you walk inside.
My heart stops.And then starts.
I fold myself and I drop on the grass.
I am too shocked to cry.
I am overwhelmed by grief.
You have moved on.I close my eyes.I cant cry,I cant scream.
I close my eyes and sleep blankets.
~~~~
When I wake up ,grass is tickling my nose.I almost sneeze.My nose is cold like it always is when everything around me drops temperature.
'Ohmygod I just fell asleep on the front lawn' is my first thought.
I sit up ,rubbing my eyes.What time is it?My gaze focuses.
I see you.
Anger boils over.I cant speak.I clench my hands.
"Hey.." You say.
"Dont...I...stop...talk."I close my eyes.Ok,deep breaths.
I get up.
"Are you OK?"
"No.Ok.Im not.You...just...cant...choose ...Anne."
I am stammering.
What is wrong with me?
Stupid Anne Crenshaw.
Supid him.
Stupid me.
Stupid rain.
I try breathing.
I cant.
I move towards the house.Everything swims in front of me.I keep on moving.He is saying something.I dont care.
I walk inside and slam the door.
I am alone.Blissfully alone.I find that I am crying and i wonder at the embarassment of crying in front of him,of letting my defences down.
I lift both hands to wipe away the tears and find that in both of my hands I am clutching tufts of grass and in my left hand a single velvet rose-water glittering on its petals-a rose that didnt belong to my garden until five minutes ago when I had woken up.
~~~~
I walk out of my house the next day,my defences up and my feet on solid ground.
No crying,I tell myself.
Just keep on walking.I walk towards the bus stand.
You are there.
I keep myself from swearing out loud.
Calm and composed.Ignore him.
I jam my iPod earphones into my ears.
You come up.You are saying something.
Ha.I cant see you,I cant hear you.
My gaze is fixated on the book in front of me.You bend down and lift the book from my grasp.
I gasp. Audibly.
My eyes meet yours.
Your gaze is intent.
I nearly shrink away.
Nearly.
I attempt to grab my book but my finger grasp empty air.You gently tug and my earphones fall away.Snow patrol fades away into my lap.
You keep gazing.
"You moved on quickly. You saw stupid Anne.And then you have the gall to lay a single bloody rose on my lawn." I accuse ,hotheadedly.
So much for my cool headed resolve.
"Anne?"
"Yeah.Yesterday."OK ,NO CRYING."
"Why would I want Anne when you are the apple of my eye?" You ask,bemused.
I almost bloom like a new rose.
Almost.
"Because she is tall and blonde and-"
"You are beautiful," You cut across.
"Right.So you say."
"Anne is nothing compared to the way you nose turns cold when the weather is sucky and freezing.She is nothing compared to how you are the only one I know who can talk your way into any conversation."
"Why were you at her house?" A quiet murmur.
"Because she has the best rose grden in the universe?"
I look up.
"I love you,cant you see?"
Harlan Coben is right.
Snow Patrol is wrong.
"Those three words,they say so much,its not enough."
Baloney.They were enough.
The sun begins to peek out and the street is still wet.
The trees still drip-the weight of water too much for their thin limbs to handle.
You are standing there.
The rain caught up with you and you are trying to shake the water away.But it clings to your hair like a child that will not let go.
I am outside my house.My coat is drawn around me.You are at the end of the street and I know you want to talk.
I dont want to talk.I just want to remember.The way my head fit into the curve where your neck and shoulder meet.When we hold hands it is like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle finding each other.
The clouds are moving apart.It is becoming brighter as you walk closer.I want to race into the house and lock the door so that you cannot come in.You dont come any closer.
You knock at Anne's house.She opens the door.You say something,she laughs and you walk inside.
My heart stops.And then starts.
I fold myself and I drop on the grass.
I am too shocked to cry.
I am overwhelmed by grief.
You have moved on.I close my eyes.I cant cry,I cant scream.
I close my eyes and sleep blankets.
~~~~
When I wake up ,grass is tickling my nose.I almost sneeze.My nose is cold like it always is when everything around me drops temperature.
'Ohmygod I just fell asleep on the front lawn' is my first thought.
I sit up ,rubbing my eyes.What time is it?My gaze focuses.
I see you.
Anger boils over.I cant speak.I clench my hands.
"Hey.." You say.
"Dont...I...stop...talk."I close my eyes.Ok,deep breaths.
I get up.
"Are you OK?"
"No.Ok.Im not.You...just...cant...choose ...Anne."
I am stammering.
What is wrong with me?
Stupid Anne Crenshaw.
Supid him.
Stupid me.
Stupid rain.
I try breathing.
I cant.
I move towards the house.Everything swims in front of me.I keep on moving.He is saying something.I dont care.
I walk inside and slam the door.
I am alone.Blissfully alone.I find that I am crying and i wonder at the embarassment of crying in front of him,of letting my defences down.
I lift both hands to wipe away the tears and find that in both of my hands I am clutching tufts of grass and in my left hand a single velvet rose-water glittering on its petals-a rose that didnt belong to my garden until five minutes ago when I had woken up.
~~~~
I walk out of my house the next day,my defences up and my feet on solid ground.
No crying,I tell myself.
Just keep on walking.I walk towards the bus stand.
You are there.
I keep myself from swearing out loud.
Calm and composed.Ignore him.
I jam my iPod earphones into my ears.
You come up.You are saying something.
Ha.I cant see you,I cant hear you.
My gaze is fixated on the book in front of me.You bend down and lift the book from my grasp.
I gasp. Audibly.
My eyes meet yours.
Your gaze is intent.
I nearly shrink away.
Nearly.
I attempt to grab my book but my finger grasp empty air.You gently tug and my earphones fall away.Snow patrol fades away into my lap.
You keep gazing.
"You moved on quickly. You saw stupid Anne.And then you have the gall to lay a single bloody rose on my lawn." I accuse ,hotheadedly.
So much for my cool headed resolve.
"Anne?"
"Yeah.Yesterday."OK ,NO CRYING."
"Why would I want Anne when you are the apple of my eye?" You ask,bemused.
I almost bloom like a new rose.
Almost.
"Because she is tall and blonde and-"
"You are beautiful," You cut across.
"Right.So you say."
"Anne is nothing compared to the way you nose turns cold when the weather is sucky and freezing.She is nothing compared to how you are the only one I know who can talk your way into any conversation."
"Why were you at her house?" A quiet murmur.
"Because she has the best rose grden in the universe?"
I look up.
"I love you,cant you see?"
Harlan Coben is right.
Snow Patrol is wrong.
"Those three words,they say so much,its not enough."
Baloney.They were enough.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
"This is the story of my life.."
...Says 30 seconds to Mars.The moving bit,I mean.
There is always this divine feeling of satisfaction after you have just visited the Switchfoot website.I guess,its just knowing what is going on in the Switchfoot world that gives me this rush...like "what you do speaks so loudly that I cannot see anything else."
So...it is 5 in the morning and I am sitting and typing this.The sun is rising and my eyes hurt but..haha,whatever,I am up and that matters.I am staying over at my friends house and in my ears ring...well.
I dunno.
I have actually met someone who knows what it is like to be on that side of the world.
You know,where religion matters.She is sleeping right on the other side of the bed.
I admit,I have never thought much about believing.
But,recently,a very good friend of mine rekindled my hope in the spiritual sector and he didnt even do it by preaching.No,when we talk about it,I start to believe,and I dont know whether it is because I love him so much or whether I actually want to believe.
I dont know which is better.Probably the latter because it shows that i actually have faith in what i should believe.
But what if i do believe and it is empty?
What if I believe because I am supposed to believe,not because I do?
What does that make me?
Argh..but enough of the what if's and the believing.
I am here.
And I want to dedicate this entry (I dont even know if you can do that-can you do that?>Oh,well,but i am doing it<)to someone who stayed up the whole night with me before i left,who reminds me that i am not alone,who will love me unconditionally and whose love is so strong. For someone who is smart and my best friend and an amazing person and will be there for me....my "From yesterday" and "4:12" will always be there and so will you.
And we will argue everything out and I miss you terribly.
Daim,I miss the way you are SO patient with me when i get pissed off.
To good friends and awesome people and amazing photographers.
To wine =p and beautiful us-es.
To nice hair
To Jared Leto.
To us.
Puss - this is for you.
I honestly have nothing better to do =p
But I'd rather type this out to you other than anything else.
I love you.
BFF.
There is always this divine feeling of satisfaction after you have just visited the Switchfoot website.I guess,its just knowing what is going on in the Switchfoot world that gives me this rush...like "what you do speaks so loudly that I cannot see anything else."
So...it is 5 in the morning and I am sitting and typing this.The sun is rising and my eyes hurt but..haha,whatever,I am up and that matters.I am staying over at my friends house and in my ears ring...well.
I dunno.
I have actually met someone who knows what it is like to be on that side of the world.
You know,where religion matters.She is sleeping right on the other side of the bed.
I admit,I have never thought much about believing.
But,recently,a very good friend of mine rekindled my hope in the spiritual sector and he didnt even do it by preaching.No,when we talk about it,I start to believe,and I dont know whether it is because I love him so much or whether I actually want to believe.
I dont know which is better.Probably the latter because it shows that i actually have faith in what i should believe.
But what if i do believe and it is empty?
What if I believe because I am supposed to believe,not because I do?
What does that make me?
Argh..but enough of the what if's and the believing.
I am here.
And I want to dedicate this entry (I dont even know if you can do that-can you do that?>Oh,well,but i am doing it<)to someone who stayed up the whole night with me before i left,who reminds me that i am not alone,who will love me unconditionally and whose love is so strong. For someone who is smart and my best friend and an amazing person and will be there for me....my "From yesterday" and "4:12" will always be there and so will you.
And we will argue everything out and I miss you terribly.
Daim,I miss the way you are SO patient with me when i get pissed off.
To good friends and awesome people and amazing photographers.
To wine =p and beautiful us-es.
To nice hair
To Jared Leto.
To us.
Puss - this is for you.
I honestly have nothing better to do =p
But I'd rather type this out to you other than anything else.
I love you.
BFF.
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