Sunday, 31 July 2011


When what was once your absolute surrealism becomes more and more realistic by the moment, what kinds of thoughts haunt you? It’s like a sudden shower pouring over your head when you were outside staring at a city’s skyline on a cold day.

Would you walk away and take shelter, or would you take a deep breath and keep walking?

Friday, 29 July 2011


Some things are often made, but never conveyed.

All the letters in my drawer is proof. All the words in my notebook is proof. All the thoughts I have in mind is proof.

Thursday, 28 July 2011


I remember when I woke up, thinking that I really heard a scream, a piercing scream, that startled me out of my bed.

The echo of the sound is exactly like the echo of you.


Reminiscing is made easy when a reminder from the past, the very recent past, keeps you blinking with eyes alert; when images, taken from another’s eyes, appear before your very eyes; when you wake up, not wanting to wake up, and see your own dream vivid in your head.

Then you start to doubt yourself, because you thought you’ve learnt.

But is it such a sin, wanting not to let go, wanting to grasp what you thought you have, wanting to relive everything you really had?

If only people could live in many realities. Then all my questions would be solved, my curiosity quenched.

Thursday, 21 July 2011


I never knew I could accept an objection to my reasoning. But maybe I needed that; maybe I needed to be proven wrong, for once.

Your wit astounded me, and left me standing aghast.

Monday, 18 July 2011


If you are the postman, then I am the messenger.
If you are the magician, then I am the audience.
If you are the prodigy, then I am the adjudicator.

If you are the story-teller, then I am the deceiver.


I never could resist an atmospheric charm.

On days, the black starless sky can be as alluring, and as convivial, as a great grey one. If I were large enough to hug it close to my chest, I would. But for that time being, with feet glued to the ground, I felt content silently falling under its spell, and being stunned.

It felt like getting lost within one’s self.

Friday, 15 July 2011


It's a plague, being bitter. I, however, have come to terms with my bitterness.

And it's liberating.

Thursday, 14 July 2011


Coming to a halt proves to be more difficult than expected. Though the scenery had changed, the talking, the pondering, and the wonderment of it all remains. The facts, laid out eloquently, did nothing to answer the question:

Who’s to blame for a both-to-blame collision?

Wednesday, 13 July 2011


It’s the old formula in writing a song. Put one in, and you’re golden.

But in a different context, seen from a different pair of eyes, absorbed by a different mind – it’s an entirely different matter, one I should probably neglect for the better.

I did walk to the edge, but thank god I didn’t tumble over.

Tuesday, 12 July 2011


The wind stops abruptly, then sadness engulfs.

I’ve always envied the people who could stand still behind a lens.
To capture moments into pictures, so long as we’re not entrapped in its seamless surface.

Picture taken in Sydney (July 2010).