Broken.Smile

Truth be told, he is a broken man. Lying crouched in a fetal position. Like that of a broken man. On the cold marble floor, his life ebbs away. Of a man stabbed, with multiple wounds and blood flows freely like a fountain of wine.

Gushing away, like strong undercurrents, contrasted to the energy left in this man.

Someone save me. He says. Though he knows that only he can save himself.

Strange how no physical pain is ever more painful than affairs of the heart. A self inflicted prison that cages the mind. Sapping away life energy.

He turns, and stares at the blank white ceiling, the shadows on his wall waves. He feels his body, nope no wounds. Then why fuck does it hurt so bad. The shadows wave again. Must be going crazy. Might as well say hi. He waves back. Lying flat on his back, he feels the cool cold floor.

Just like his heart.

He could see his life manifest in front of him. The flickering of a light. Gently swaying. To the left and right.

His heart is broken, his soul is broken. He is handicapped and there is no prosthetic for that. He lays there and hopes maybe a beam of white light would take him away. He stares hard. Stares a bit longer. Nope. Not happening.

The hacking is starting again. The lumberjacks. Hacking away at the trees inside his heart. Ravaging. He could hear the chainsaw.

Oh well, he thought. Let them be. He closed his eyes, hoping to dream. Of a sojourn with a glimpse of her.

He smiled. At that thought.

Whispers

{Whispers, ANON}The saddest thing in the world, is loving someone who used to love you. ~~

The Name

What is in the name of a rose that smells just as sweet.

A name is just a name. Or so he thought.

Of the many people with the same name, of the hundreds and thousands out there. This name is just a construct. This particular name of this particular person.

The Name. Of 8 English letters. Or 19 Chinese strokes.

Names. Values that man give. Meaning that is borne out of the scribblings. The time the person is born, the gift of parents to the child. Life is given to the name, when it is spoken. And it represents the person.

A name is still just a name. Or so he thought.

He wonders why, two simple words, could still affect him. The Name

3 times at the dinner. 1 time during training. Mentioned so casually and randomly by others. The intonation and inflection of how The Name came out from their mouths. As sound waves reaching his ears. His brain processes that sound.

With it came emotions, that threatened to flood. Like a dam that threatens to break. Torrents of emotions.

A name is really a name. Or so he thought.

He felt awkward. Slowly the awkwardness turned into inconsolable sadness. Humans are strange creatures!~

How he would give, just to call The Name out again. With affection and fondness.

Just for a brief moment his heart stopped. When he heard The Name

Just for a brief moment, he called out loud. Shouting silently. Echoing in the depths of his heart.

Just for a brief moment, he thought he saw her turn. Though it was just a wistful mirage. Hooks etching into his heart, tore away this haze.

A name is just a name. Or so he thought.

The Name. He may never call it in her face again.

That is what saddens him the most.

Tobaccoss Part One

A nicotine high.

He takes a deep draw from his cigarette. Deep draw, deep breath, long puff out. Whooooooo, the smoke rings and clouds fogging the vision temporarily.

He looks at the half smoked cigarette in disgust.

Truth is he already quit this terrible habit. Excuses! Some might retort. Why are you still smoking?

The not so beautiful reason is he wants to remember her. It brings him back to the times when she tried so much to stop him from smoking. Puts him into contemplative reflective soothingtive mood.

As the vision fogs, the memories slip in. Magic smoke!

Another puff, multiple memories. One cigarette is not enough to relive the memories. He chains another one. FUCK. He shouts. In his mind.

Cussing? For what again? Just another way of expression. Of a feeling? He can't remember much.

One thing is for sure. Cigarettes make him happier. Just a remembrance of a point in time past.

Just let the man have his smokes.

Or memories

Papaya

He was passed 2 slices of papaya by Ma. He looked at it. Staring at it. With some strange feeling. It hit him that this was someone's favorite food.

Not by itself actually. Mixed with milk. A strange concoction that it seems to make bosoms bigger or so they believe.

It would be her poison of choice. Every time after a meal in school. The orange bright mixture with a portion of milk added. The familiar sound of grinding of papaya in the machine. As it drips into the cup like a bright orange gold. The brightness stunningly blinds if all were in monochrome world.

As the orange swirls in the white pureness of milk, the hawker pokes the straw right in. Sipping it happily, she completes her meal. In the hopes of having a fuller bosom.

He sits staring. Images and sound coming and going. 2 pieces of papaya.

He takes a bite, the juices gushes. Sweet and fragrant.

How would this taste with milk?

facebook friend request

And in his drunken stupor, he scrawled on his notepad

".........8 times and all rejected.

Oh well something must be wrong with facebook ! Hahaha.

OR

Something must be wrong. Must be something she heard from some little bird. Should I call her? Should I try to explain?

I don't know. The me in the past would have done it .

The me now is just broken.

The me in the past would do everything, like organise party, send mails, send flowers.

The me now is just broken. Or rather I wish not to disrupt her life. My presence should be a nuisance rather than anything good,

How would you know? Even a friend request. Online facebook friend request is rejected. That can only mean a few things.

I guess I have to reedit this post. Influence of alcohol

......... "

A wedding

I went to J and K solemnisation.

Ah. I nearly cried. It is just a great feeling to see them together.

Like just waiting for them to get together forever. Oh yes more of this later.

Well before, I was at a Indian post wedding party. With R. It was crazy night too.

Costume party with loads of vampires nurses and interesting Mama! R and me were the only chinese there. ahaha. It was loads of fun.

Hey I am not racist and I love my Indian friends! Though if you needed me to dance to bangrah, hmmm, you needed some ALCOHOL ! ~

I arrived at the bungalow Cranwell 3 and was apprehensive. That was the same one that J K got the last time we had a wine galore party. Life is such a coincidence.

I was apprehensive and shy luuhhh. Though the host was so welcoming. " Hey could you help with the system?"

Sure!~ The ever helpful me. What the hell? They had a deejay system and full set mounted speakers. In a chalet !

SOOoooo exaggerating !

shit I am quite tipsy now. Been typing for quite some time

shall continue this again

如何让悲伤止步

我不知道

自己的灵魂

已不属于自己

我也不记得是从何时？

我的灵魂紧紧地和你的

扣着扣着

是不是我的命

要那么酸甜苦辣的生活着

不属于我的你

阿

祝你幸福

Netballs (hmmm no just netball)

We practiced playing netball. Doing drills at her void deck.

I was wondering why I did that. I mean netball! A girly sport!~

Was it because she had a competition coming up? I don't remember.

Her eyes lit up when she played with a netball. Passion. I love those eyes. Those lovely eyes of hers. I was supposed to pass her the ball. Chest pass, overhead pass, or something.

I only remember smacking the ball too hard. And hurt her? Sorrry!~ Or did I use my basketball skills and hurled a rock at her?

That was the first and last time we did that.

ICE

A random thought struck this young man

"............ICE stands for IN CAR ENTERTAINMENT

and this would be a short post as i am lying down with the lap top on my chest and not my lap.

ha !

ICE reminds me of the car one of my juniors own. His car is real nice.

AND YES we sat in it together before.

HE was the one who taught me what ICE stands for cause he was talking to N about it and suanning him

I love you so muchiiee

........"

The Strange Toilet Incident and a letter to Beyonce

Dear Beyonce,

I am writing in because I think you might be able to understand how I feel. I like you sexy song and sexy body and hope you like me too.

Well, on to the point

It was a strange feeling. Today.

Guess some context must be explained first.

I always remember bathing in the toilet behind the pool after training and there was this particular training where everyone was getting ready to leave for supper.

As always I liked to take it slow. Bathing and touching myself. Ha. That's a joke !

"Jxxxxxx!~~(My name!) Can you hurry up everyone is waiting for you !"

She shouted in that irritated voice. That feeling and image edged into the mind. I'd guess it is strange what people remembers. I remember it was xxx Mini's car waiting.

Fondly with warm memories. How I would give much to hear her shout my name again.

So now every time after training I would have this particular memory. As I bath(and touch myself), as though I am expecting someone to call for me. A little piece of my heart would hurt abit.

Back to the strange feeling. Today

And today, as I was bathing and singing (Beyonce songs!), someone shouted for me again.

Was it?... My imagination? Huh? For a while I was confused.

I am the last one in the area.

Then in my naked glory I asked "Who are you?"

Finally realized it is my newly found god sister. She saw that my things were strewn outside and decided to wait for me.

Ahh. I was happy for a while at least. :P I thought... Maybe ....

What a deja vu. Had me fooled eh? Strange feel eh? It was like reliving the past.

Yet again.

Am I fool or am I a fool.

Regards
Your greatest fan.

PS : I really love you sexy body and you sexy songs. Whooo !

Pain.Heart

He waves at the shadow. For some reason the shadow does not wave back. What a unfriendly shadow, he thought. He looks out of the window and sees the Orion Belt. Hi Mr Orion.

With no one to talk to.

"I shall talk to myself." He thought out loud.

"..... Everday I feel a tinge of pain. Sometimes strong sometimes weak. Pulsating it might be. Today is worse for some reasons.

Like when I see TV shows where they tour. I would see the places. Exact places. Then the pain starts. Hard to breath.

A heavy feeling.

Then you have conversations with friends, they mention certain things and click. It would just CLICK. Literally there is this click sound. Just like that, the pain awash you. Torrents upon torrents crashing.

When I am more awake, I would fight it. Pain. Yes PAIN. I love it ! I tell myself. Fighting it.

There are times when I am caught unawares. Seriously unawares. Then you just go into alot of pain.

From a perspective, I think this is strange. Why the pain now. Was it buried under and rearing the head only now? Well I've got a lot of time to talk to myself.

Shall ask myself later......"

The First Post

He scrawls haphazardly on a piece of paper

"..... .....I don't know why but I am thinking and thinking.

This is the first day!

Lets see what is going to happen.

Too much in the mind.

......"