the letters are still crummy

Bigfoot

2011-04-13T17:41:00.001+08:00

An exceptional writer is like a Bigfoot. He may or may not exist, depending on what you want to believe. But say he does indeed exist, his existence nonetheless will remain concealed until he moves out of his cave and starts leaving his marks about in the world. Marks that are so different from the rest that once they are seen, they become a prized discovery. That regardless of where the he goes - where those marks of him were found - the public will hunt for him. To admire him. To condemn him. To just be a part of the crowd that have seen him. So they can talk about him. And learn from him. And expose him; the way they think a phenomenal creature deserves to be exposed

the floating flower

2011-04-13T17:25:00.000+08:00

The floating flower
drifts
along the ripples
of the lonely river.

A little bruised.
A little trampled.
Beautiful
just the same.

Waiting,
for someone
to lovingly save it
from the uncertainty.

A little yearning,
bafflingly,
for the same unworthy hands
that threw it away.

Yet the floating flower,
though hurt in pride,
shall not wilt.

A flower as special
shall not drown.

missing the good old times

2011-02-02T15:22:00.000+08:00

Have always wanted to live in New York once.
Hm.

love the lyrics

2011-02-02T14:48:00.001+08:00

love me if you dare

2010-09-14T04:32:00.005+08:00

I just watched this movie again. Probably for the 287th time.
Still my most favoritest movie ever.

Ainur: wants a son who looks like the little Julien.
Love love his curls and cheeky smile.

i love i love lucy

2010-09-13T05:08:00.002+08:00

under the same stars

2010-09-02T01:30:00.001+08:00

How have you been, my dear old friend?

It's been a while since the last time we met

How is the baby, is he already teething?

How's the hubby? The wife, is she pregnant yet?

Isn't it funny how fast time flies sometimes?

How everyone now seems to be almost adults?

Isn't it funny that we're living in the same city

but never seem to have the chance to meet up and talk?

Remember how we used to stay in the basement of our dormitory?

Watching videos all night long, pizza boxes stacked up to the knees?

And there's that day you helped me climb up my favorite tree

I still have the photos, oh how I love bright yellow leaves

Remember that surprise roadtrip we took to Cleveland one weekend?

Or that funny Mickey snowman we built behind my apartment?

How about the night we snuck out to the school auditorium?

Sat under the street light, came back smiling like nothing happened?

And to think that we drive on the same roads everyday

Under the same stars, life takes us into separate ways

We may not get to see each other as often as we like

May not always remember, but I know we don't forget

Well, under the same stars that blink so bright

Know that I'm thinking of you tonight

Remember the Skater Boi song they played every 20 minutes?

When we drove 14 hours to New York for Thanksgiving Break?

And all those nights we'd hang out at your place

Gossiping until sunrise as we snuggled in your bed

I remember how the whole floor shook when you danced the DDR

And don't forget the night we played frisbee in the cold dark

What about the Merdeka BBQs to welcome the freshmen in fall?

And the basket shots we made after we're done with volleyball?

Do you remember the times we would go to the drive thru?

Dunkin' donuts at midnight, you know I'd never say no to

We used to drive around a lot back then, didn't we

Sitting in the quiet parking lot, just you and me

Isn't it funny how fast time flies sometimes?

How everyone now seems to be almost adults?

Isn't it funny that we're living in the same city

but never seem to have the chance to meet up and talk?

And to think that we drive on the same roads everyday

Under the same stars, life takes us into separate ways

We may not get to see each other as often as we like

May not always remember, but I know we don't forget

Well, under the same stars that blink so bright

Know that I'm thinking of you tonight

THE YET-TO-BE-NAMED FICTION - Part 1

2010-08-26T01:05:00.006+08:00

Did you hear about the ghost that haunts the Wilbur Manor? Yes, that palatial structure on top of Cranberry Hill. It used to belong to Bernard Wilbur, who was dubbed ‘The Duke’ by the people of James Port City – for he had a lavish aristocratic way of life despite not having a single drop of blue blood in his veins. Every now and then, The Duke would throw grand parties where the cream of the society would come dressed in their best jewels to dance the night away. And the manor would be so bright and lively, it would shine like a festive odd star against the silence and shadow where the rest of the town beneath it lay. The residence was indeed magnificent back in the days. But that was all before it became haunted, of course. Before the household servants began to flee one by one early in the morning and before everyone started pretending that the place even existed.

Anyways, they say that The Duke really came from a very humble beginning. His father, Alfred, was a thin man who didn’t say much and hauled coal on his bare back from the factory to the ships waiting at the dock. He lived only for his son and worked for 27 years before finally retiring - a little hunchback and smelling perpetually of burnt wood. He died soon enough unfortunately, perhaps from sniffing too much carbon during his lifetime.

When The Duke was young, Alfred would tell his son that his mother had died soon after she gave birth to him. She was very sick, he would say. But everyone else knew how much that was not true. James Port City is a small town. Everyone knew that The Duke’s mother had abandoned her family to flee with the Spanish captain who ran El Monstruo Marino, the ship that lived up to its name both in size and reputation. Yet no one was surprised when that striking beauty left her laborer husband for the better prospect. She had always talked about living in huge mansions and wearing pretty dresses and had always complained about how she could not stand her baby’s wailing. She had married Alfred only because her father owed Alfred money he needed for gambling. Alfred woke up one day to find her wedding band on the dresser and his baby howling for the mother. So he wept silently for 5 seconds, picked up his son and moved on with his life. He never spoke of his wife again unless asked by the little boy. And even then, he would always tell him the same thing the boy already knew: that she was dead.

What Alfred never knew, however, was that The Duke knew the truth as well. He had found out when he was playing hide-and-seek behind Marjorie Hacksman’s rundown furniture shop. The gruff loudmouthed woman was cursing Albert for rejecting her marriage proposal, not knowing that the 8 year old was hiding inside a crate underneath her window waiting for Tommy Linton to come and find him. The Duke listened to everything he needed to hear then quietly scrambled out of hiding before Tommy could get there and reveal him. He never told Alfred what he heard from Marjorie that day -for he loved and respected his father too much to deliberately expose his little big lie - but he did stop asking Alfred about his missing mother. And Alfred happily assumed that the boy was just no longer interested.

Then one day, El Monstruo Marino came back to James Port City. The Duke had just turned 13 the week before. And for his birthday, his father had bought him a muffin and a pair of new socks and gave him 10 cents to buy himself a new book of his liking. So The Duke was in the bookstore browsing for a book when he heard John Thacker talk to Alex Smithson about the ship arriving the next morning.

-to be continued-

kryptonite

2010-08-18T13:37:00.003+08:00

I figured it out now, I figured out why
Why when you're around, my heart goes haywire
I change into this person I barely recognize
And become a weird stranger, even to myself

Even from a distance, you captured my soul
You suck me towards you - a powerful blackhole
You make me change my mind, you rule all my senses
I should stay away from you, but I simply can't resist

Cause you're my kryptonite, baby
Help, I can't breathe
My very own kryptonite, really
When it comes to you, I'm weak

I know I should stop this - all this nonsense I've done
I'm really not stupid, but when there's you, I'm dumb
You make me change my mind, you rule all my senses
I should stay away from you, I just keep making excuses

You're my kryptonite, that's why
With you around, I can't breathe
My very own kryptonite, oh my
When it comes to you, I'm weak