Archive for October, 2007

my muse: 311007

elena_muse2.jpg

-digicamography, photoshop-

me: how long have we been friends? 8? 9 years? i can’t believe i watched you grow up from a geeky cherubic emo teenager into such a fine young woman *grins*

her: fine? different maybe. cherubic?! *laughs* duh, nice save mr. sensitive, you meant chunky don’t you, lol. nah, i’m just your normal run of the mill plain jane. i’ll definitely blend into the background, sans these mods.

me: uh lol, i meant cherubic babe.. definitely cherubic *rasp icon* well, maybe to strangers you would. i’m not a stranger, at least i’d like to think i’m not.

her: baby, you were never a stranger, never. did i tell you, as a teenager, i had this biggest crush-adoration on you. you were that older friend big brother character with tattoos and piercings that dispenses sound advices. kick ass tatts, piercings and give good advices, how coolsome is that?! haha! *rasp icon*

me: what?! really?! omg… uh… i feel awkward now *laughs* but i’m glad you said that, really *smiles*

her: *smiles back* you never knew, i never told you… but yeah, now you know… *grins*

me: y’know this thing, it could’ve been i was in love with the idea of loving you. my curiosity-adoration-lust. and maybe that you’re unattainable, so the go-getter in me stubbornly chases after you. but i wouldn’t go as far as to say i didn’t have any feelings for you. and in addition it could’ve also been your wicked tattoos and uber smexy piercings, haha *winks* well honey, i’d like to apologise. what a wicked web i have weaved us into.

her: no, not wholy your fault, really. i wanted it as much as you did… i wanted, no… i needed to know too. well, i would like you to know that i was never unattainable to you. you had me. it’s just that time and distance wasn’t kind to us. yeah i guess, the idea of something new, something different? people subconsciously crave and chase freshness and difference. and yes, knowing you, the ink and steel freak… it’s more than not, definitely my tattoos and piercings *laughs*

me: eh! lol, don’t make it sound like that. it’s much more than that honey *smiles* so… well… it’s ends here then, and we would never know eh?

her: *long sigh* unfortunately *sad smile*

me: the notion of that is so so sad, because we had good times and we definitely had something there. it could be more than this. *long pause* i’ll miss you dearly, honey…

her: *silence* i’ll miss you too…

so, happy halloween serial ‘raype’ killer. you and me, honey… we will always always share mew and our promise of running away to distant beaches along the seven seas.

so, take care beautifully named one… may you be happy where you are now, always…

-mew: chinaberry tree-

she says, he says: blackmail

he says: no honey. no.

she says: *pout* but why…

he says: *frowns* eh. don’t pout. don’t use that against me, please. that’s blackmail…

she says: *slides closer* *puppy eyes* *pouts* *makes whiny noises*

he say: agh~!goddamnit~! ok fine, anything! you win!!!

she says: *grins* *hums a happy tune*

he says: *sighs*

honey, i love-hate it when you pout. it’s so not fair. sly. tricky. you know i have no protection against your weapons of refusal negation.

-black rebel motorcycle club: love burns-

money can buy you a happy ending (momentarily)

sunday night. phonecall. friends. drink session after dinner. why not. sleazy karaoke. what the. regret.

drink. laugh. drink. idol wanna be session. horrendous. pigs having their throats slit. laugh. screaming not singing. drink. laugh. drink. laugh. drink.

drink. i look up. women. streams into the room. young. skimpily clothed. laughing. smiling. making eye contact. one singles me out. sits beside me. we make small talk. indonesian. 22. pretty. skinny. 46kg. 36C. 30. 34. lean forward. black push ups. half cup. cleavage. peek-a-boo lace. my eyes stray. she smiles. more small talk. she touches me. drink. bump. i light her cigarette. she smiles. feeds me a few puffs from the cigarette between her fingers. talk. she brushes me. drink. nudge. small talk. she sits closer. leans into my arms. her hand shifts. my inner thigh. her mouth by my ear. warm breath. she pops the magic question. i laugh no. she frowns. disappointed. asks why. i smile. no thanks. i lied. my girlfriend is at home. she nods understandingly. hugs me politely. smells like 9.99 dollar pharmacy perfume and indonesian clove cigarettes. cheap. overpowering. not they way i like it. she gets up. walks in front of me. crotch in my face. deliberate panty flash. black. sheer lace. trimmed. pulls down her hiked up skirt. she grins. i smile. she moves on to the next victim.

time to leave. dread. clear chinese tea glass. obligatory 3 shot of whiskey neat. the girl waves me over. hugs me goodbye. more pigs getting their throats slit. screaming not singing. she shouts in my ear her club number. says she would like it if i’d pick her when i come around again . i nod, smile and hugged her again before leaving. walk out. stagger to car. drive home.

sleeping alone. wake up. hangover. late. work day. fucking great.

-hed kandi: be my friend-

weekend reflections

8am. haven’t slept a wink. its funny how sundays are like rewinds. rewinds of the days, weeks, months, the years. i get rewinds of the hearts mostly. today the rewind was about you again.

i sit in the bed and i could never get used this expanse of space next to me where once your body lay. i’m so used to turning around and having your soft, warm body already there for me to spoon. your soothing heartbeats grasped firmly in my palm as i place my hand on your breast. the slow rhythmic rising and falling of your chest. the way your eyes fly open, and you smile and look at me with the most amazing hazel eyes. the way you sigh-nuzzle me on the side of my face with your nose as you mouth a whispered husky ‘good morning baby’. sexy. adorable.

so now i sit in our bed with a lighted cigarette between my fingers. i spaced out longer than i wanted to and the ashes fell onto your favorite duvet. i hurriedly pat it away. i know how you hate it when i smoke in bed and get the ashes all around. i frantically try to clean it up but then i remembered, why bother… you don’t sleep here anymore.

yeah, i’m still getting used to it after so long. funny how the years have passed but i still feel like it was yesterday. the duvet? I can hardly bring myself to toss it out. do you remember, that was the very first duvet we picked out together at ikea. after you pulled me close and whispered earnestly that you’d love to move in with me when i asked you to. i was overjoyed and ecstatic. and you were grinning from ear to ear like the cheshire cat.

well don’t worry, i do wash it often. but after the umpteenth time in the washing machine, how it hurts me that your smell no longer lingers on it. the distinct waft of elizabeth arden’s green tea. your moisturizer. your shampoo. the smell of your sex and sweat. there’s only the taint of soap powder, bleach and ozone now.

yeah, me. wash. i bet you’ll be surprised. i’m sorry that it was so hard to get me off my butt to help you with the household chores. people lose an arm or leg and they learn to cope with it. they move on. and here, i still have my arms and legs, i just lost a big chunk of my heart, that’s all. that shouldn’t disrupt my daily functionality much right? and so i learn to wash the laundry, iron, sweep/mop the floor. sorry. sorry how i take those little things you did for granted until i did it myself.

i sincerely hope you’re happy now wherever you are.

-tamia: officially missing you-

she says, he says: baby long legs

her: say, do you think my legs look good?

me: hmm? your legs? i never really noticed when you were bumming out at my place. and you always wear jeans around me anyways.

her: haha yeah i do don’t i. cos it’s much more comfortable than skirts. and i gotta be proper with skirts. ergh. btw, thank you for not gawking.

me: *shrugs & nods* no problem babe. i adore you and you know i’m much more subtle than that, lol.

her: tsk *roll eyes* oh ok then, here… *sends a image through msn* have a look and let me know.

me: hmm? oh, aight babe.

*file transfers >>> transfer over >>> click link to open image*

me: hmm… whoa whoa whoa, how long have i not seen you? your legs are hawt! they look amazingly long and slender.

her: hmm, about a year or so? ahaha yeah they do don’t they? i love my legs, they’re my best feature and i slimmed down somewhat since you last had me over.

me: ah no wonder… *scrolls images around* uhm wait… FUCKMEWHYAREYOUNAKED?! >.< well naked except for that short skirt but shit, i can see EVERYTHING!

her: hahaha, nobody asked you to gawk ok *angelic icon*

me: OMG! don’t pull this kinda thing on me! i’m not gay okay?! and you’re like naked in-the-buff NAKED! now i’m having bad thoughts about you!!! OMG, the images running through my dirty mind!!! AGHHH!

her: *rasp icon* *wink icon*

me:…. *slams head on keyboard*

her: LOL

trust someone you adore to spring a surprise on you like that. i will never look at her the same way again *sighs*

-queens of stone age: little sister-

precipitation

it poured again this morning.

i remember that you loved the rain. that you can sit for hours by the window. you on your giant beanbag with your huge mug of hot coffee. your ipod. and you sit and watch the rain hit and run hundreds of random rivulets down the window panes. i remember that you would absent mindedly trace the water trails with your fingers as you silently mouth off to lyrics from the songs you’re listening to. i remember how you’d like it when the droplets makes ripples in the wide, shallow pot that you made into a tetra habitat, on the balcony. how the raindrops would tap-tap-tap on the big leaves overhanging the pot before gently sliding off into the water below. i remember, sitting slightly out of your field of vision and watch you watch the rain. you would look back from time to time, frown-smile at me and ask what. and i would say nothing and smile back. i remember, how it amazes me that little things like that could make you happy. and in turn, it makes me happy as well, seeing you genuinely smile.

and it rained again this morning.

and i sit here in your very own spot. your sanctuary from the world. the hifi on loop on the table behind me. the cat lying on my lap, purring like a mini motor. the tetras, swimming lazily after the ripples. i watch the rain as you used to watched it. the random water trails. pitter patter. ripples. soothing. zen.

i understand.

-colin hay: i just don’t think i’ll ever get over you-

infidelity, me?

lychee aka elmo girl aka my super hawt school teacher married friend once said: oh, you just haven’t met the right one.

who or what in the devil’s name is this elusive ‘right one’? short of sticking my dipstick into every girl i meet, there should be another way to know. and i’m pretty sure ‘right one’ doesn’t just mean being amazing in bed. though being amazing in bed do win that girl a stackload of brownie points, lol. oh don’t get me wrong, it was this geek’s childhood schoolboy fantasy to be popular with girls. and thus, dreams came true, i’ve been traded among some of my girlfriends like a man-whore. whispered amongst their girl cliques as the guy that has magic fingers and is an amazing diver. and not to mention the mind boggling meeting-up-in-mmorpgs-to-cyber-with-me or getting offers to go through my anime list at my place at 3am in the morning. i’m not complaining but i can’t help but to go ‘what the hell?!’ sometimes.

i’d like to think i do love. i’m pretty sure i like and adore. but this love thing, i still can’t place my fingers on it. seems that its on par, in the sense of it being a mystery, as the ‘right one’ i feel something, but i doubt it’s as pure and noble as love, because hot animal sex is still an intergral part of that feeling. heh.

but i think inherently, humans are not made for monogamy. polygamy is hard coded into our genes. we were made to choose and spread our geneseeds. period. men sleep around with women that catches his attention and women sleep around with men that catches theirs. subconsciously, its a case of why only have fun with one when you can have fun with many? why limit your choices to one boring stalk when you can flit around and draw nectar from other flowers? why send you car to only one mechanic when other mechanics can and will check your dipstick too? hur hur hur.

technically, even by looking, by entertaining the thought, by playing out a fantasy in you head, no matter how safe, just because you didn’t actually do it, doesn’t mean that you’re not guilty. i’m most definitely not preaching all that is right and what you must do here, for i’m pretty sure i myself is much more flawed than you are. i think my moral codes and values are basically dipping into the negative zones.  for all that i know, the people i slept with over the years could be your girlfriends, sisters, wives or mothers. i’m not proud, to say the least. but i was just following the heart/gut feelings and i’m pretty sure those were all a two way thing.

so, lychee aka elmo girl said i haven’t met the right one. so how in the world do i find this right one? because it pretty much scares me to think that most people i talk to tells me they just grab whomever that’s with them at that moment in time, marry them and get it over with. is it as boring, simple… and fucked up as that?!

but…

i do have women that i would love to marry and spend the rest of my life with. they know who they are. because i’m comfortable with/around them and i adore/like them. well, maybe it is as simple as that after all.

unfortunately, out of the many, i can only pick one. that’s another dilemma in itself. blah.

-depeche mode: only when i lose myself-