Monday, January 30, 2006

Soul Faeries

Jeal uncovered her mask. The smoothness of her pale skin failed to emit the charm expected from a girl of her age, as her face was deprived of the beauty it deserved by a deep scar spread across her left temple. The scar ran dangerously close to her eye and proceeded through her cheeks, finally coming to an end at a level not much higher than that of her lips. It was a momento from the life she had before her days at the mansion and one which suggested that the age of innocence was long gone for Jeal. Her piercing eyes were cold as the weather that evening, and sharply pierced through the trees around them. She liked it there.

"A lonely place is where i belong"

She thought. It was never where she wanted to be but the curse of the past across her face denied her of the courage to be anywhere else without a mask. Like every thirteen year old girl, she did not like the idea of hiding her face while her peers flaunted around the beauties nature had provided.

Jeal steadily paced through the solitary lane along the woods. She had come there with hopes of catching a soul faerie. Her desire to find such a mystical being stems from the curiosity, fueled by rumors that soul faeries were indeed lost souls originally attached to the spirit of people who were living in an alternate world. Her caretaker, Con, had often shared with Jeal his theories on the existance of another reality and that every action taken would vastly affect the turn of events in such a realm. Little did she know that faeries were mere myth and nobody had truely witnessed their existance; those who claimed to have seen them were unable to prove it.

"What does it even look like?"

Let me tell you...

Jeal jumped in shock upon hearing a faint whisper. She worriedly glanced back, it was uncommon that another person would be so deep in the woods at such an hour. It was then that she noticed that the patch of grass at her feet was dimly lit. It was beingg illuminated by a golden sphere, about the size of a tennis ball, glowing weakly and floating at the level of Jeal's knee. Her eyes were fixed onto the sphere. Once again she began to hear words in her mind, not in the eerie voice as that of her first encounter but of several people.

I'm the flower and you're the grass

Let it grow lar!

It's a promise, and we'll call it the kemamman treaty

bad end of the deal

yesterday was the ideal, which you ruined

everything was so unreal, let's just leave our tears here

Now let me show you...

The sphere of light rose to Jeal's chest. It's beam doubled its intensity, swallowing Jeal's eyes in its path. Soon white curtains drew before her eyes and all she could see was the brightness until she could vividly see a random sequence of flashbacks. Memeories... that did not belong to her. She remembered seeing a teenage boy holding up a strange device in staircase. She remembered seeing a girl smiling over at him. She was wearing a white shirt and short rugged blue skirt lying on her back, feet pressed against the wall. The same girl was in now in a green shirt sitting opposite him complaining about her porridge. The same couple in an elevator, in a hospital, theater. He kissed her hands each time he was late to meet her and she would do the same to him each time she wanted something of him. The memories were happy ones until they both cried one night. She was then with somebody else and he had forgotten the skill to sleep.

"Who are these people?", asked Jeal

Reach out and feel me...

The sphere of light drew closer to Jeal. A warm satisfying feeling filled her from head to toes. Although her heart was beating much faster, it appeared lighter than ususal and she couldn't help but smile with joy at the sensation. The faerie began moving away and gradually pulling away with it Jeal's esctacy. She threw out her arm but the closer she got it, the more distant the sphere had travelled. She soon realised that her heart was no longer light but had become an anchor's burden. It had fallen somewhere deep within her drawing her entire chest to one particularly painful position. Her eyes began to feel with tears and the more she wanted the sphere, the more anguish she suffered.

Do you understand now?

"What are you?"

Before she could find her answers, the faerie had vanished. The woods were once again dark and lonely. The momentary company she had with the soul faerie had had an impact in Jeal's mind, as thought a swarm of insects had penetrated through her skull and caroused delightfulin on her brains. She fell to her knees, still recovering from the heart ache. She was shaking.

"Soul faeires... they're not myth but what are they?"

**************************************************************************************

Do you remember? Do you even care? It doesn't matter now... It's time to leave it all behind, because she don't love me no more. I don't even matter anymore. I'll learn to live with it.

But still...

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Burglish

So nobody knows...

Ba mar lo may yae dat pae mae lei, ko ga ba mar lu myo bar. De tharga dwe har min le ta yaut thae go pway jin dae tharga phyit pae mae lei, yin layy lun lo ma pyo naign tho thar gar phyit the. Min go ko a myae chit nae done bay. Faith phyit phyit Judith phyit phyit, min ga a myae ko a chit sone main ka lae ta yaut thae so da min mhat thar than ba.

Min thwar jin dae soe, thwar lite tot.
Min htar jin dae soe, htar gae dot
Min lote chin dae go ko ma tar bu, main ka lae
Dar dwe har min a twet chit thet thae.
Dar dwe har min le go chit loe
Dar dwe har min le go thait chit loe

De mar dot chit lait yar dar dwe
De mar dot yu thwar mya phyit yar dae ba wat go min yone gyi pae

You'll never understand, neither would I. And that's the way we will live...

until you've learnt what i have.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

The Chronicles of {insert cool name here}

One chilly evening, a young man was alone in his study. He was scribbling in his diary of memories past until suddenly the door swinged open and in came four little children. There was Rage, a broad shouldered boy with burning eyes. He paced through the hall quick as lightning and sat by the fire. There was Sor, a beautiful girl with eyes bluer than the midday sky but wetter than the seven seas. She carried in her arms a very passive rabbit with its eyes shut in bliss. Jeal and Res were the last of the lot. Jeal hid her face behind a plastic mask, little did she know that the mask was transparant and in fact hid nothing at all. Res was a timid boy and made his presence so small that nobody usually notices him. Thus two girls and two boys came strolling in and disrupted the young man's moment of reflection.

"What can I do for you, little ones?", said the young man, "I remember it was Wednesday last since we last met."

"We need some advice uncle Con!", said Rage, "Each of us have troubled minds and seek your words to direct our thoughts!"

Then each child took turns to tell their tale.

"I want to kill him!", began Rage, throwing a punch to the floor. He hurt his little fist but ignored the pain and contiuned, "My friend Win walked out Friday last and refuses to answer my call for help! He knows i need him but he just won't heed my cries! I don't want a friend like that anymore! I want to kill him!"

"My rabbit is dying uncle Con...", said Sor, tears streaming down her cheeks, "She has been in my life since my first breath, but now she's grown old and can't teach me tricks anymore. Can you heal it? please uncle Con, please..."

"Ju...", Jeal gave a deep sigh and removed her mask, "Judith is having a party for Joe the weekend next. I wasn't invited and I'd never want to go but what's bothering me is, that she's never thrown a party for me! I don't like this feeling uncle Con, can you make it go away?"

"I have a friend" whispered Res,"His best friend is from the northen part of town and he trusts his best friend with everything. But I know the northerner is stealing from my friend but i can't tell him because he won't beleive me. Shall i tell him none the less uncle Con?"

Uncle Con sat back and considered these plights. After a minute or two, he walked over to the piano across the room and began to play a slow melody.

"Let me sing you a song little ones, so that you may ponder and learn for yourselves... the true nature of us people... and the way a saint would live"

What makes us different, from other beings?
Is it love, compassion, these beautiful things?
Or is it treachery and deceit?
Things we wish we have never seen?

Sometimes we love, sometimes we hate, sometimes we deny...
Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose, sometimes we seek more,
Sometimes we choose, sometimes we can't, you will learn in time.

So when life is so unpredictable
And people seem so taint,
Learn to live with things despicable... and wonder,
What would you do, if you were a saint?

Because saints forgive, and saints don't anger, and he understands
That people are different, that people are changing, and he shows respect
A saint doesn't fear, a saint doesn't tear, for the truth he'll stand.

And when he finds what he seeks,
He cherish it for eternally
And when it's time to lose it all, he's ready, he won't be weak
choose a saint's path my child, and you'll live in harmony...

So fear not of losses,
Fear not of rejections,
Anger must lose its forces,
Respect and truth... these are true affections...
Live the way i taught you...
Live to be... a saint.

Thus Uncle Con concluded his song and turned to the children.

"But it's not that easy to do!", cried Jeal

"Of course it isn't but you have to try..."

Thus the children left the room, unsatisfied with the advice given to them but the young man did everything he could to keep them in control... unfortunately he has never been able to. He went back to his diary and wrote,

Children, little do they know... that life is a bitch and then you die.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Elsewhere in another world. The same young man stood in a cool January night. Beside him was a woman in a black T-shirt. She was of oriental blood and kept her hair straight. Her eyes filled with confidence yet her mind filled with confusion. They stood there, without saying a word to each other.

At a distance, a couple walked hand in hand. He eyed their backs and couldn't help but notice the discrepency in height between the love birds. He drew an imaginary revolver and aimed at the blissfully ignorant man.

"bang!bang"

Two bullets signifying two reasons why he would like to shoot the man. The woman beside the aggresor shot a glare of disapproval. He merely turned to her and whispered a line he learnt from a girl he used to know.

"You're a lover in my bed, and a gun to my head."

Cancer broke his heart 6 months later.

Saturday, January 21, 2006

Words

That's all i've got these days... February 23rd seems so far away

Friday, January 20, 2006

Flight of the flightless bird

I got my hands on a pretty good Burmese film yesterday. Expectedly it was rich with thought provoking dialogues, demonstrations of emotional attachements and a man's constant battle within to choose between two elements essential to his life; love and success. Despite its bad taste in soundtrack and predictable endings, I related to the plot in ways only not many could possibily even understand. For the first time I realised how difficult it was for her to watch me walk away.

I remember that morning in June. I remember having my last dinner with 'em the night before, chinese food never tempted me less. I naively did not realise the sorrow behind the smiles she wore. I didn't sleep that night, though i recall having that all too famaliar ghastly irritation you feel each time one is about to leave it all behind. She told me to look foreward, that she had now given me the wings to fly. That the higher I flew, the further away I will be from them, and to be ready to face all odds and be strong. That one day I will have flown high enough to gaze back at where i came from with pride. Thus the fifteen year old boy kissed his mother goodbye with promises that someday he will return a respectable man. I didn't see it but i knew she cried, as i steped onto the plane. I never asked of this life, but fate was cruel. I envy those who still has the luxury of coming home to parents each day... I've almost forgotten what it feels like.

Five year onwards, the boy has grown, but I've got nothing. I haven't flown one bit, nor can i even pretend to be respectable, yet i still feel the distance. The promises and expectations she had for me seems so empty. The breakdowns are all to frequent now that sometimes I feel tempted to throw it all away. There's only so much I can possibily take... but each time i hear her voice it gives me hope. It tells me the kind of faith they have in me, something i've never had and her words ram an admant push spilling confidence and compassion despite the barriers of distance. Such is the strength of true love.

I've been a terrible son, my reluctance to look back, my lack of accomplishment and my disobedience in making decisions yet they tend to me whenever i fall. All I have to offer them is my ideals which seem so far away. If i can't even take control of my own life, will i ever make a difference? If i do somehow muster the capacity to do so, will i have the courage to leave it all behind and stand up for what i claim to believe in?

What lies ahead for me is not rainbows and butterflies... but a journey i'll never complete in this lifetime. There's no room for feelings nor affection, family nor lovers, friends nor rivals. Will i even dare to glance towards such a road? I never asked for this life, but i'll live it to the fullest.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

For the lady

Walk On - U2


And love is not the easy thing
The only baggage that you can bring
Love is not the easy thing
The only baggage you can bring
Is all that you can't leave behind...

And if the darkness is to keep us apart
And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off
And if your glass heart should crack
And for a second you turn back
Oh no, be strong

Oh, oh
Walk on, walk on
What you got, they can't steal it
No, they can't even feel it
Walk on, walk on
Stay safe tonight

You're packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been
A place that has to be believed, to be seen
You could have flown away
A singing bird in an open cage
Who will only fly, only fly, for freedom

Oh, oh
Walk on, walk on
What you got, they can't deny it
Can't sell it, or buy it
Walk on, walk on
You stay safe tonight

And I know it aches
And your heart, it breaks
You can only take so much

Walk on...
Walk on...

Home...
Hard to know what it is, if you never had one
Home...
I can't say where it is, but I know I'm going
Home...
That's where the hurt is...

And I know it aches
And your heart, it breaks
And you can only take so much

Walk on...
(Hooo)

Leave it behind
You got to leave it behind
All that you fashion
All that you make
All that you build
All that you break
All that you measure
All that you feel

All this you can leave behind

All that you reason, (it's only time)
(Love is a feeling on my mind)
All that you sense
All that you scheme
All you dress-up
All that you've seen
All you create
All that you wreck
All that you hate

Anybody got a copy of the album "For the Lady" ?

I've been dying to get my hands on it in ages!!!!!

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Wish i were there

















































Pictures taken during the December reunion back home. If you look close enough you might just see me... in spirit of course. Damn that baby is cute!!! Heh i don't usually have affection for babies but this one's an exception for obvious reasons. I've got a story to tell about each person in the pic, save the two ladies who happened to be my best friends' wife and fiancee. But those are tales i won't document here but recite over a couple of beers on a good Friday night... i'll probably be done by Monday morning that way. So in case any of you guys see this post here's a message for each of you in no particular post.

Phyo, you've grown WAY huger than i could ever be mate... you've got the whole gangster shit going on and i'm so glad to have been on your good books when i had the chance. You'll always be welcome in the good old appartment back home man... just don't f**kin take me swimming.

KKM, still got the stylo milo shit happening eh? A belated congratz on your wedding, i assume the invitation got lost on the way, and of course that adorable baby boy you're holding. Now that you're a family man, don't ya do too much of that lung and liver abuse no more... who am i kidding... you're drinking with me and my dad the second i get home!

Khine... i'll tell you when i meet you for lunch tomorrow. JUST DON'T YA DARE DITCH ME FOR YOUR FREAKEN BOYFRIEND like you did with Sian. You crazy ostrich.

Zarni, it seems you're still keeping up the cool, mysterious man status. Good luck with your work mate. I've never known anyone who takes photoes as well as you do. Beats all the wannabes in my old poly who are supposed "learning" to take good photoes but still do miserable jobs at it.

Victor, well dude it'd have been nice if ya hollered at me once in a while coz seriously man these guys i've met haven't said a word of you... nearly thought you were MIA like Norman.

Susan, heard you're studying in what? a faith school? Sweetheart i've only one thing to say to ya. Damn you're hott!! Those signature dimples each time you smile seems to have done you good in your womanhood eh? Pity i don't get enough time with ya... I'll probably fall in love with ya. Sorry about all the time i called ya "bison" and "Susan Min Sein". You come nowhere close to the former and the latter comes no where close to a guy you should be with. Argh i better not get started on these childhood memories... I'll never stop.

Well those of you not on the pic, I'm hoping to get in touch with you guys with ya soon. Sian, Monis, Ziggy (oh yeah sorry i picked on ya alot), Norman, Ye Jin, Jermaine and well... you know who you are!!!

I hope i make it to the next reunion... if there ever is one... damn i'd give the world to be with these guys in one room because i know the experience would be priceless...

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Evergreen

It's nice to know that some things never change no matter how long it has been since you last experienced it... like alcohol, sex or debating. I like it that way. Yeah so my little bird has grown taller over seven years, but she's still as whiney and fussy as when i left her.

Finally got to spend some time with her today, not too much of it but it was still arguably the most enjoyable hours i've had in weeks. We've got seven years of catching up to do and i'm eager to know each and every measly details of not only her life but whoever have had the luxury of graduating from good ole DSY. Sometimes i do feel like i'm sitting around with a kid sister i've never had, who simply HAVE to complain about almost anything that catches her attention. I still love her to bits of course, and as long as I'm in the same city she's under my eyes. Life wouldn't be complete without that little ostrich friend of mine, can't wait to introduce her to the emu friend of mine.

So bottom line is, she's no friend of mine. She's family.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Missing

Basic scientific descipline involves following instructions; carrying out a particular action during a precisely given frame of time. Is this the same with words? Do you have to say the right words at the right time to achieve the desired effect? What happens if said at the wrong time?

My only experiences of such is those where i said nothing at all... the results were catastrophic. If Christmas came earlier last year things would have been fantastic. Artois is a fine substitude for tobacco, yet the craving is never truely satisfied.

A ghost roamed my room last nightfall, and this is not a metaphor. It is an imprint on the mind of stories one would rather forget. You make me travel four years back in time, relive the good and the bad. Begone now, you are but a hallucination... dead souls no longer has the form to walk.

Whose hand is it i hold these days? Is it you or is it Lu? I know whom i truely miss and i'm afraid it's never been the one i kiss. I take you out for the right reasons but crave your company for the wrong ones. General Othello was a fine man. I shall kiss thee once more before i kill thee. Oh forgive me sweet Lu, I wish not be reminded of you.

I have never recounted your tale partly because denial is my way of dealing with the pain, and partly because nobody would truely appreciate a person they've never known. Thus this entry today is my first tribute to your memory. It's not much but it comes from my heart. I loathe you thrice, i loved you once and I cherish you for all of eternity. For in my mind, you shall be immortal. It is not just by a sweater that i will remember...

Ask no questions. Make no comments.

Sunday, January 08, 2006

Bad medicine

Surely some things haunt you. Appearanlty the human nurology is not meant to be resilient against diseases like possessiveness, egos and spite. My recollections say i've used this flaw in human emotions in a destructive force which got me nothing, and recently i've been given my own medicine and admittedly it's quite bitter.

Fortunately for me i've finally procured a remedy. It was quite an irritating procedure when it started but as time goes by it works wonders. My pride is finally repaired and my mind no longer dispaired.

A true man is one with an identity, not an introvert who hides from reality. Nor is he one who tries too hard to be someone he's not for the wrong reasons. Otherwise he is bound to be overlooked, as white frames command no respect. Some men tries to get it all, others don't. The former may not have everything but the latter, they've got nothing.

Friday, January 06, 2006

Nobody said it was easy

Once in a while, a person craves for certain treats only to find out later that the object in question merely turns not so attractive after a certian turn of events. The desire of that particular moment makes you act in ways which simply does not reflect your true self, often hurting those who holds adamant affection for you. In the end you'll be left with nothing to win and nothing left to lose.

Prior to this post i expressed my opinions on decisions made, highlighting how some of these are just ridiculously difficult to live through. It doesn't hit you until things are beyond your control. Thus we human as emotional beings lament over mistakes made, continually wondering... "what it could have been?". However, it is no longer the same for me. Alas i know exactly how things would have turned out and they are surely not pleasant. My honest woe takes form of an overwhelming conviction to correct the vast amount of wrongs i have committed on this person. Too long have i justified it by claiming the other party had done just as much harm if not more. Yet when she did attempt to reconcile, i had spit on her face and banished her. Little did i notice that it was I that was being banished.

I do not regret the situation, but that does not remedy the guilt that had being released upon the realisation that i had not performed my level best to give her what she deserves. I was blind to this until we truely lost each other. I was blind to this until somebody else understood her more than i ever did. I now wear a bitter sweet smile to mask these regrets. If given the chance i'll do it all over again and do it right. No more barriers around my soul, no more variables to affect our plight. I can promise her that in return for the same. But the chance will not present itself lest the past vanishes, a fate close to impossible. I do not seek to forge joy through thin air and will not attempt to write a tale with the phantom's end. If someday oppertunity does present itself, i vow to avoid what must be and present what should be. Perhaps it may not be in years nor with the same person whom i have misdeeded.

Thus i close an overdue chapter, and watch us gradually resolve from the climax of our play. I now sit in the audience's chamber and pray her story do not take a bold hurtful twist as her last one was. That the lead opposite her is no man like i had been. I see her sing but i no longer sing along. I feel her thirst, but i no longer satisfy her. It is no longer my role nor is it my right. I am now but a fan who occasionally fantasies of... well...

The phantom is a gargoyle who burns in hell but secretly dream of heaven. My dear readers, as i have said before

It is easy to deceive others, but it is hard to deceive yourself.

And if i may steal a couple of lines from cold play. Nobody said it was easy, but no one said it'd be this hard...