this is like a flashback. You’re unintended woes has yet again besieged the bare air that i breathe. Why, oh why? Do you keep me, playing me for a 10 year old.
Uncanny as it may sound, as incoherent as I may be. There are things, that are forgivable, there are things that are remembered.
The stillness, the cold, the ever regurgitating feeling. You shouldn’t know, yet you should.
It’s time to know.
a smile slowly curves spreading the sides of my mouth to my ears as memories of a familiar place rush through like a speed train. the ends on the back of my hair stand, with the moments rewinding like an old video record with the flashy lines entering into the screen from the top and disappearing to the bottom of the tv set. yes, the fondest of memories in that old cosy house. the slope up, or the slope down, to come to a black gate unchanged with time, grilled with perforated mesh, painted in black. the creak of the gate as it opens, the rust grinding on metal as you unlatch the gate.
one of my earliest memories in mama’s house was the garden, where as toddlers, we all used to take showers on blistering hot days, naked, in metal pails, throwing cold water over our heads. and as we grew older, and began to play catching, where we would run all over except for inside the house; we knew every nook and cranny mama’s house had to offer. playing stools, where all of us would take those plastic stools, put them and convoy onto our journey of conquering the circumference of the house in time. and freezer, yes freezer, where that black gate offered a sanctuary from our running, and from being “frozen in time”. Then we started watching football, and had a craze of playing it every saturday. making the garden look like it had been through a war. smashing windows, having to replace countless of letter boxes.
and as the sun set, with night bestowing upon siglap, a distinct voice calls out, “CHILDREN, 7 O CLOCK ALREADY. COME IN AND EAT DINNER. WASH YOUR FEET!” Yes every saturday, without fail that voice would ring like a rooster scheduled before the morning sun would come up.
Christmas eve, chinese new year and even new years eve, was full of life. as children, we were able to go out and play with sparklers, hear mama play the piano, while the adults danced and everyone listened on dearly. the most unforgettable smell of buah kluak, lemak, emitting from the kitchen as we continued to play outside in the sun. the unmistakable voice that would calm the children down, a smile that grinned from cheek to cheek, the red lipstick, and the dancing.
and as the day would end, it shall live on. an emotional roller coaster, shared with tears, vanquished with drinks, laughter, music, dancing in the hall, having dinner, and talking. yes, over the years, everybody did grow up. released to life, but it was you, who kept us united, it was your presence that gave that motivation to make it to mama’s house. once again, as night has bestowed on us yet again, i am back home, and i am reminded, that every journey, that takes you to siglap, is always a pleasure. in life, you taught everyone how to live. now, today, everybody danced, everybody ate, everybody drank, and everybody was there. yes from where you are, i would guess you would have probably be dancing with us too.
for there is life, in the corners of every edge of siglap. for there is joy, in every memory. for there are roses, embalmed in our hearts.
this should not, be the way. my heart should not beat, out of my chest. the only intention, was ever good. why did you have to make me so cynical. the absence, of you presence. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. where are you now, 13km away. living. whats left of your life. whats left of my life. i dont forget. i never said. i know you exist. you are not a figment of my imagination. you are there. but why are you not there? where are you when i need you. where are you. you could show up, 17 years ago. where are you now. who will protect me? the life, that i know. the life, that you led. where are you. where are you. why do i always have to do this. why do i have to bridge. its so hard to breath. its so hard to breath. when you’re heart, when your heart, it beats out of its own chest. heaviness. is all i feel.
the bleakest of memories suddenly rush like a night train over worked by coal flashes in the night. a sudden dream, where it brings me back to the years, before i knew life. the sudden burst of micheal jacksons rendition of come together livens up the air. as i look at the dull life band, looking on, for they aren’t able to play me micheal jackson songs. i pick up the dull looking spoon, digging into my rice. the taste of piping hot rice dances on the tip of my tongue. the fragrance is followed by a metallic after taste. and a i look on, the band is playing, the bill is being settled. laughing, drinking the fizziness remains of my coke, we depart the restaurant. wild west tavern, the signage bore, on a bare wood in oak dull color. step by step, i walk. holding my little brothers hand, as he struggles to walk. the walk seems long, never ending. with every step, the shadows that reflect on the floor continue to induce me, into thoughts. pass the gate, i hear a gasp. i look back up. in warm lights, the trees rustling, a car parking, a shadow forming. a familiar shadow. one that i seem to know. and as the light, bounces of this figure, it registers.
my first memories, they were never the best. my first memories, i wish i could erase.
the silhouette forming, a shadow which remains with me.
for how long, do i have to live. living with this memory.
let the lessons learnt in the past, be the guiding conscience you adapt. look back on memories. look back on decisions. look back at what you are today. but while looking back, don’t forget to look at yourself today, for you wish not to trip onto tomorrow. let the facts, speak volumes. let the feelings, be just emotions. do not, regurgitate, past actions, do not look back on past decisions. let not influence be your weakness. stand up, stand strong. prove, that you can.
whisper not too loud. for you do not need unwanted eavesdroppers. remember to put your foot in front of the next. release the tension. loosen the hold. let not the music take control.
listen. as the meaningless lyrics are being sang. listen, but do not listen. listen, but do not understand. create your imagery, with flowers, with rainbows. spray paint your memories on the four corners of the walls. let the butterflies fly. open up your windows. let the still breeze penetrate the igloo you’ve put yourself in. walk, down the corridor, with careful steps. do not look back. straight into the balcony, for refuge. the refuge of solitude, sorrow, happiness and stale bread. do not get mistaken for a stranger, not by friends. fill your heart, with the light, by the passing night. by the diamonds which blanket the sky. shimmering tiny specks of white light, which keeps everything bright.
are you one of the angels watching over? surprise surprise they wouldn’t want to watch
the stillness in the air creates a subtle uncertainty. a cloud of thoughts, opinions, perceptions, decisions, start to puzzle together as the pieces form together. taking note, these thoughts are not a puzzle, but a cloud. an imperfect shape, with curved edges, the lines, more often than not, blurred by the darkness of the night sky.
and as the little girl skips, to the beat of an unseen sound, a resonating sound which only she hears, the hedges in the garden grew taller. the parade, the festival, far behind, in a movie scene memory. the lush greenery, turn dull. the leaves start to brown, with the greetings of a familiar seasonal change. the little girl, can see a small bright rainbow in the distance. with rainbows, comes sunshine, as does dark clouds, and rain. weather this, and she can weather any rainstorm.
the little girl. who got lost in the .
all.coloured in.
chapters begin with the best and sometimes the worst of a story. torn between a life of books, journals and articles, in contrast with of the fast paced, heart pumping, mundane offsets of work.
as i sit back, in cold justice, the four walls around me being my only companion. the lyrical serenade from my itunes my only sanctuary. the azure coat which keeps me safe from the devilish penetrating beams of light.
my less than perfect world. the ongoing decision of what and how things should be.
the shift, of polars, the contrast of the deep blue ocean with green. the different paths, that has to be taken. has all that which was once simple, faded? waiting, on a vibration. which comes in forms of codes, encoded, left with you to decode. the sill of thoughts.
mornings, are followed with a careless yet graceful strut towards the balcony. greeted, with the morning sun, the trees rustling as the wind calmly pushes leaf onto leaf. and the mynahs, with the bright green parrots. singing along to the leafs swaying, with warm greetings of a hot presence. the heat, slowly eats into the lungs, with every inhale of air. shiny beads begin to form, as pores open, which marks the significance that it is another day. what the day holds, what the day brings, is what you make of it.
all dolled up in straps, love, now, where have you been?
after months and months of uncertainty, calculations, sleepless nights, crossroads everything seems to just crystalize.
a ray of light has seeped through my dark cold and dusty room. It promises hope, it encompasses nights of sleep, it brings forth a new day, for me at least.
with the burden of the rest of the world on these shoulders, I guess all that pain and suffering has had it’s worth.
no more dreaming of the day as if death itself was undone. No more crying like a crow for a body in the garden.
how can you live without that knowledge. who can deny their bare existence. Cos at the end of the day, when all is bare, when all is lost, when hope dwindles by a flicker of a flame on a birthday candle, they are there. Ultimately, they are there. the reason for my existence. it’s never too far away. All you had to do was look.
tossing and turning in bed. 5.28. the night is coming to an end but the slow trudging train is still fueled with coal and is still running. decisions decisions decisions. its funny how you’d always think everyone else around you seems to not have problems but in actual fact everyone is facing their own crossroads in life.
so why should 1 dwell just on his own life, and think that the worst is happening.
decisions decisions decisions. we all make decisions, in our everyday life. every few minutes, we have to decide. from the minor things in life, to factors that may mean life or death, happiness or sadness and other prerequisites that may not be so pleasing. but its the decisions in life, that moulds your personality, that creates your temperament.
so dont look too far, when the answer is sometimes so much nearer.
why should everyone be burdened by a particular action from a person.
