pernoctation

Loving this world

2007-02-08T19:40:00.000-08:00

Two fat kittens... one baby blue the other a soft pink.

Romance of a cryptic

2006-10-21T21:36:00.000-07:00

fish swim in a body of water.

nocturnal culture

2006-09-03T23:43:00.000-07:00

Seems like all i ever write are revival blogs.. hahaha

Anyways, pictures tell a thousand words... so here are some photos from Jump Start Charity Ball 2006 (to ease your eyes, I've already taken out all the ugly ones.. hahaha):

Chn'g and me... when i won the $50 door raffle for chillipadi (who were great caterers btw)

Me, Daniel and Viv.
Table foto~!

A touch of white and a sparkly star~~!

UH OH... DT looks drunk~

Gangsta lovin.. dt, me and allan

Scar tissue

2006-07-20T23:58:00.000-07:00

[blank]

Blue Train Cafe

2006-02-04T05:16:00.000-08:00

There's this place.

I have been there.

It is familar and yet it reflects such fresh and vibrant colours.

Hungry and dazzled

the reoccuring nightmare

2006-01-20T05:03:00.000-08:00

given up on happiness..

There is a trunk. Inside a flame flickers. It wanders into the labyrinth of shadow. Its tongue is pressured to shrink. The flame is consumed by darkness, the overwhelming emptiness bleaches its colour. Locked and yet there exhibits an aura of insecurity.

This mystery of light. Fire to whom I have given my heart; from which takes away my strength.

The sound of the kettle. The fright of the night. Hidden in silence.

The End of the Beginning

2005-11-24T19:18:00.001-08:00

I am emancipated. I roll down a hill.

I feel. I think. I act. I dream.
No obstacles in the way.
Nothing that can bring pain and suffering,
only joy and love.

I am free. I can fly. I can love.

there is still light at the end of this tunnel

2005-11-07T02:02:00.000-08:00

it's closing... it's coming to an end. The beginning of the end.

... So far things haven't been awfully good, but they haven't been bad either. Perhaps it's inevitable that i should come to this stage where i am emotionally, mentally and physically strained and in mild despair.

The exams have made me regret .. the thought that everything could have been planned better; better organised, better orchestrated and better executed. The past few days I have lost myself in all the confusion. I hardly know what I'm doing anymore. I cannot sleep at night, the lack of control, the chaos and the frightening anxiety bamboozles my mind; I have to turn on a radio to percipitate the mess and crystalise it into manageable chunks. These exams are overwhelming...but it is not the excitement or the awe...it is the predicament of thinking about the past and matching it to the future. For me it is about faith and finding someone who will forgive you for all the trouble you have caused. It's about stopping time, reflecting on your flaws, fixing them up and becoming whole again.

It's hard to be examined. To have your mind disected, categorised and experimented. It's tough... but everyone gets through it and so must I. so must I.

Soldiering on (regardless)
IPPY

50 abstract words

2005-10-20T23:48:00.000-07:00

A flimsy lifeless thread hangs over our heads. The current passes through its terminals and teases the contents that shelf itself upon its wires. It plays the ecstasy of electrical music, a tune too great for mankind to indulge. The meat is dry and crisp, the vegetables steamed moist. Microwave.

---------------------------------------------------------------
I know no one will read this, and even if they do they will no fully understand. I am just trying to exercise my composition, trying to thaw from the deep frost that I have survived, trying to rekindle my love for language, trying to be me again.

Valete

2005-10-20T23:06:00.001-07:00

Last night marked the end of an era.

But the flurry of time has upset me; I am not sure whether to laugh or cry. As I sit and admire my peers, my conscience cogently startles me with my lack of achievement. The array of faces of fantastic leaders and amongst them there is me: a weak, seedy bastard. All those awards and prizes appear to be worthless; they reflect the person that I once was and the chauvinistic beast that I am now. To be given them, is to present me with a pack of intelligent and self-deprecating lies.

As I look back to my contribution to school life -the musical ensembles that I played for, the handful of debates that I incompetently involved myself in, the series of spiritual development courses that I have been both a student and leader- I ask myself where is my passion now? How can it be that after eight years that at this point of time, the end of my journey, that I am not imbued with school pride? Up until now, school has been everything to me. It has encompassed my social, sporting and acaedmic life. Now I leave without any sense of direction. This weak little child cries in my heart as I crave to be back in the cycle. The cycle of one year of success and failure and the prospect of a more fulfilling role at the school. I look back with regret, as the oasis of time prevents me from fulfilling those dreams that I had. This illusion that I will be forever chatting in the corridor, causing mischief in the classroom, and toasting bread in the safe confines of our kitchen, has dissipated. It is sad but I am so scared that no tears bleed out of my eye. I am so anxious of the future and I cannot elucidate any of my feelings. There is nothing I feel I can do to reverse the aging, there is nothing I can do to speed the voyage. I am not tainted by school pride because I am soaked in humility. The disease that doesn't let me provoke. Something that tells me it isn't the end, and yet somehow it is.

The stars on my palm are fading, they no longer illuminate the vast planes of the night sky. Instead, they grow old and the atmospheric pressure clamps down on its youth. My glow has expired and those indoctrinated ideologies implanted in my indefatigable brain wither away. I must remain pro-active for these few days, otherwise I will fall victim to a collapsing star. I must explode rather than implode. That is my only choice for survival. Where do I stand in this universe? Why must I leave now? All these questions I cannot answer. The rain spills its precious drops of purifying water onto this world: a clean new blanket for us to sleep in, a new canvas for me to shape. Hopefully it will be a better one than the last.

REVIVAL

2005-10-17T21:44:00.000-07:00

It's been almost two months since i left this space vacant. two whole months of memory erased. It is worse than anything that i contrives from my brain. I feel that it has been worthless; a complete and utter waste of time. Perhaps the anticlimax has already been realised; perhaps, after all this time i have yet to find myself and i feel like a failure in that i cannot emancipate.

Today - the last day of class- is also my time of resurfacing. A desperate plea to confront the absolute truth. Tomorrow i will remove myself from the local school community: the intricate network that shields me under her wing. It will be graduation... and as i face the hideous world i will be pained with memories. I am mixed in emotions right now. My mind dribbles with the joy, anger and sadness. For the price of freedom i must redeem myself, my position and my character for the uncertainties, the insecurities of an unsimulated life; a society rife with everything i stand for and everything i detest.

The laughter, the fun and the love all disappeared into oblivion. The meaningless chatter behind my back. A cold and spine chilling endearment to the troubles that lie ahead. The churning of exams. I am incacerated by the pressure. The lock and key have been disposed.

"Where do I go, nobody knows. "
Not even I.

IPPY

2005-08-31T06:00:00.000-07:00

Expression lost. It matters not what language i speak. Everything is meaningless. Only the trenches of confusion remain.

Destined to find resolve sometime soon, but desperate not to lose his soul. I face a predicament. Indeed, a newly unearthed conundrum .

2005-08-07T01:33:00.000-07:00

SHADOWY CALM
In memory of her

Count seashells. Those were the things we used to do as children. “Eight, nine, ten…” I paused momentarily. The blood vessels buried under the frost of my salty fingers slowly came to life. My sister held out a plastic sandwich bag and motioned me to deposit my findings. There was no drop of daydream in her eyes. Everything was focused on this one assortment of treasures. “That’s eleven”, the accountant in her spoke as if she was listing the sins I would need to repent. White as crockery, she held the fossil against her cheek. Her eyes squinted and she inspected the ancient engravings with the light bent to her lenses desire. “Try finding a prettier one. I like pretty ones.” There was dissatisfaction in her voice, a tremble that signaled a profound disappointment. She threw her bag inside the box and closed the lid.

It was quiet on the beach. White foam from the waves swallowed sand into the stomach of the water, uprooting enormous vines from the reef. They ended up draped on the sandy dunes like abandoned mines and novelty nets for stray jellyfish – furniture put out for collection along a fading stretch of pristine land. The air was dense. A touch of it sucked dry on my cheek, while the cold like glass of the wind cut into my skin. We faced the endless expanse of ocean. As children, there were far more things to contemplate than life. We held the belief that the linen of water kept dreams caged and tied on a leash. The more dreams it devoured, the deeper the indigo shade. It was as if it miraculously dispelled thought. My mind bled, I stuttered aloud, “wwww..Why is the ocean so blue today?” The blood transfused into her stream of consciousness. The question was for her to answer.

Once my father told me that nothing occurred without reason. Doubt was for the weak. It was a phenomenon that I always struggled to grasp. Dad was never a doubting man. He was stubborn and when challenged would strip away to the bare essence of an argument, to its core, replying with “that is just how things are”. He dictated fate as good as any watch, Shells into sand and sand into dust.

A soft breeze isolated our shivers, its wide breath coloured with tendrils of black hair escaped from their arrangement. Loose strands fell across her cheeks and nose while her thick lips dried in the foundry of the sun. The tide changed gears, its gesture tilting the opalescence of the ocean’s shallows. We felt the sensation of the world on top of our droopy shoulders while the seagulls squawked angrily at the fish. The silence killed the vapors of doubt that condensed at the rims of my imagination. She squatted on the rocks, the sand trapped between the webs of her feet exposed. Unable to withstand the madness, I whispered, “My turn to bag”. Her dark eyes were still transfixed on the indistinguishable azure thread, the ambience of infinity where blue merged with blue. She did not notice the skiff making love to the limbs of water, until she resurfaced – then she nodded. The semaphore that told me there was not a time when she didn’t let me bag.

Sharp claws glided over the opaque surface and sank into the mud like a feather dragged by lead. Her mechanical fingers mined the rich concaved tide pool exploring the microscopic graveyard of decay. Carefully she dusted them along the stony edges catching speckles of marine fossil. Her excavations were more successful than mine. The best she harvested was thirty odd coral remains. She would return with fingertips saturated by the heavy scent of mussels, clams, oysters, sea snails and starfish, the aroma of washed sediment.

On the Saturday, she sat by the porch her body veiled under a grimy light, her delicate chin glued to sturdy kneecaps, shriveled like an embryo. Anxiously she rocked back and forth, pushing her newly grown breasts against her thighs. She was twelve. Everything about it was unexpected. We were told that she would cope, but inexplicably her mind was driven awry. Sometimes I would sit with her under the guise of an old Dickens paperback and watch her soothe her pangs with supple slurs unleashed by tremulous shards of grief. It was the hardest when the tears stopped flowing and secreted under her yellow, mauve veins where her spirit disassembled and laced night with night. I had felt it before; the times when you thought you could touch her; waffle her perfume as if dewdrops in winter; but like the invisible stains on yesterday’s bleached laundry, they were still there – inerasable to time.

Clouds invaded the salted sky. We had been gone for thirty minutes. It was time to move on. Her hands spilled dregs of seawater onto the plastic membrane of the bag. The catch: just one immaculate pair of angel wings. She rinsed the carapace with the saline solution. Her innocence was absent of melancholy. This was a good catch – a pretty one.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everyone's being writing personal/creative pieces and posting them up... so i thought i may as well do the same.

IPPY

2005-07-19T06:42:00.000-07:00

I am typing from the stem of my consciousness. These are the last words I will speak today before I trudge lazily into my little boxed bed. At least rest will be assured. As of yet, it is very unnatural. The mind speaks aloud and flows in an organic manner. Usually clogged up by thoughts of inifinity. Despair hides behind a cloak of aspiration. Its tentacles beckons the darkness into its gaping mouth. No actions can justify its means. I am lost in my observations in the mind's eye. This is where pulsating red vessels flow transimitting fickle imagery to the brain. Memory is too short to replace. Simple syntax is too hard to explain. If only... the world was a much smaller and concise novel.

The darkness in my voice has faded. I have been so too much in the sun. Double speaking the visions of fantasy and fiction.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
An entry of grizzly grizzle. Talent is only so so limited, it wears and tears like the durability of reality and space. Those ideas that I seek are untimely illusions. They are spasms of a sick man half-deprived of thought. Something completely random and irrational.

I like puzzles. Hunts to find symbols of a disguised sort. I like to fill in the parts that are missing, so that messages may be completed. At least that makes my heart less fallow and my time less worthless. It's an escape with uncertain odds, but every answer is unique And every problem has a solution.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
ok.. i must be like really tired right now, because I reckon I've just launched like a missle attack on Surrealism. Seriously, I probably need some mechanism to help me cope with such uncontrolled mindspeak. Then again, its only as weird as all my other entries.. - -"
Maybe stringing miserable, over-written sentences are one of those things you do unconciously.
Sometimes i question whether or not i have any self-awareness at all.

Ippy

CROPS

2005-07-16T08:50:00.000-07:00

I need to write a story fast. A lot of time has passed since i've done anything 'fine'.
Perhaps I need to grapple with the reality that somthings need to be milked under pressure in order to germinate. If anything, this is my writer's block. Hollow words that are meaningless. A sterile field of letters left fallow. Maybe I won't harvest this season. We might be facing another drought, let's pray its not a drought of emotion.

... STATEMENT... (stuff this.. i hate making up new words >< )

----------------------------------------------------------
got a haircut today... went to library.. and.. scared the living daylights outta sum friends. I am such a hikikomori. This room's a mess. Someone needs to clean it.

shoot>>

2005-07-16T08:08:00.000-07:00

Jeremy pulled his beanie over his brow. The winter chills had tinged his beard a frosty grey and it lengthened his chin. Rain fell onto the roof of the carriage. His cans and bottles mimicked the downpour, the vibrant explosions matching those of the droplets. He collapsed into the graffitied seat as the ever growing cityscape peeled layers from its exoskeleton of highrises. An old man lurked around the edges of his consciousness. He had no scent. Nothing to follow his tail.

'I tell you, Jeremy... ', a momentarily pause separated their destinies. 'The world has become such an ugly place'. His voice was course and it came out with the jaunty Greek accent that stung at Jeremy's intellectual recipricols. There was something in it that was full of wisdom - pearls that were hidden in an algae infested treasure chest at the bottom of the ocean. ' You know, I'm so happy that I found someone to share my room with, because before... life was tough'.

The old man's voice disturbed the pools of his imagination. He answered with a concotion of plain simplicity, 'yeah. Life.'

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The cock crows at dawn. There are only few hours before the dead return into the night.
Daylight: The fantasy world of dread.

Double speak your way into Dublin.

2005-04-05T04:42:00.000-07:00

Ephemeral - a rearrangement of the past

Here Maple! C'mon! C'mon! The bark riveted through the haze of fog. I felt it drive like a nail into my head. Short and sharp. The clarity vibrating with such tidiness. Her furry stumps skipped a fickle shuffle towards me. Good girl! I handed over her bowl. She pounced. Her jaws lay wide as a wet and soggy tongue emerged wiping away the residue of a dust-covered surface. The dampness of her tongue rolled along the clogged pores of my skin and it tickled. Okay girl, eat up! Her drool laced around my fingers as I fed her. Those snapping teeth grinding away the fragments of bone and meat. Mixing them so that they could be readily digested. She had been a strong presence. I have tried to forget about it but the pain is too strong that it blocks the canals that circulate the central cavities of my soul. I always wanted to have had a fun childhood; a scapegoat for the hassles of everyday life. I longed for this innocence and I wanted it to permeate. But I knew more than anything that I wanted this moment to last longer. Why does everything I want so badly slip away from my fingers? I told myself I was innocent, but the vividness of her diced corpse congested inside my head.

We found her in the morning. Her body lay in jigsaws, chewed up and churned by a large tanker. Five days and six nights. The maggots nested within the dark meat and like glowing ember they squirmed within the flesh. I stood against the tarnished clouds of heaven above. The meat throbbed with those lengthy string tentacles. Her eyes were shut. She looked like a sleeping mutt with her nose pinned to the cement. The poignant smell of the cadeaver flew into my face. The odour clung there and I felt old.

Why....? Why? I knew it was useless questioning God but I persisted. The chant grew in volume and silver droplets peppered the pavement exploding tiny pellets of water onto the road. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I reminded myself of my innocence.

The exhaust of such downpour of emotion left me numb. Her passing had marred my soul and splinters lay protruding like rampant intruders fusing in the furnace of love.

Death takes everyone separately. Death takes time, time to digest and religiously grieve.

Her sour paw was severed from the rest of her limb. It seemed that more than a car had missed it. I turned to the trees firmly rooted to the divided gravel dunes. The eerie whispers of a lost love riddled the serenity of silence. They watched me bag the leftovers. The unbearable stench once again teased my nostrils. Hurriedly my shaky hands collected the sticky clotted pieces into the plastic dustpan. Blood never looked so dull and drained of life.

The screen flickered as the antenna returned to its humble universal home of oblivion. My thoughts divered to the television. The sparkles began to multiply. Their invasion gnawed at the desolate screen. Liquid emptiness leaked through the cavities. The hollow shell erroded leaving a crisp grainy sand rotting. I was expendable. Everybody is.

Fine.
----------------------------------------------------------------

Time pressed itself against his slender shoulders. The sheer gravity of it implanted on his back was detached. The pain waded through those dusty slim cut frames and I saw myself the way she saw me - in Black and White.

Barking is my antidote.

IPPY

2005-03-14T04:30:00.000-08:00

emptiness. When love has dried out, that's all that remains. Residue, sediments of filtered meditated empty space. Love to a cynic, is nothing more than a game that ends in self-destruction. No wonder, I feared it for so long. I can't lose you anymore. I must protect you.

Her sincerity returned. And that virtoil of infactuation had stealthly vanished. I'm glad I don't have to torment... Was I even human back then? Concealed under the curtains of darkness, I witnessed this overwhelming beam of helplessness. Like a virgin of politics, the frost on my lips dampened the uninevitable capture of silence. The stillness...

The splintering blunder shocked through my spine. Noise. Snow flakes. More noise. I had been transplanted into a cleansing of agony...

These are glimpses of my contrived pain. Like watching a blank flickering tv screen in the middle of the night, these are my epithets of serenity.

Arms and legs bundled up on an oversized ash tray. Flames that licked its lips before crackling your condensed limbs. Hell had approached me.

We are all problematic people.

Unfinished.
-----------------------------------------------------------
I've noticed that my writing was lose. The many holes and gaps widened everytime I tried to pick up a pen. The misery of creativity. Moths liesurely guard the thickets of my memory. They clumisly eat away the crumbs that have been left behind. My heart is full. The bellows of this monstrous beast tells me otherwise.

The reason why I left this piece unfinished is because I have to apologise.
......Sorry for such lazy and unattentive maintainence.
...Sorry for fantasizing such miserable demise.
... but now... i must. indulge myself in my forest of imagination, before the sunsets and I am left blind again.

IPPY

2005-03-10T00:21:00.000-08:00

i got bored on retreat... so this is all i could think about~!!... (Chao, i so should have done this earlier)

2005-03-06T04:40:00.000-08:00

Embarrasment. Melbourne's sudden change in weather. A random ranting.

The artist has been awaken. I no longer hide dormant. The erruption has happened and the draught had ceased. The siphoned streams and valleys now saturated flooding with plentiful purity. Images reflect off the oily membrane that is the water. It is astonishing for the clarity is so precise and so articulate. Darkness had siphoned all the clouds from the sky. Everything is hollow. Nothing is silent.

Hidden amongst the density of this world, he waits. Even inanimate objects have shadows. He transfigures through emptiness. There will never be one fixed shape.

I promised. I took an oath. I failed to keep it.

Maybe if my soul was still attached, I would be able to vindicate myself. Any keen observor could tell you that my chain of fate had been curtailed and now it lies saturated in solution that eats at it.

When will I be released from this confinement?

My pupils have adjusted themselves, they are beyond my control. The periphalness had been ripped from from their sockets. My body feels heavy. Lids slide across the bleached frozen salt, it bridges light and dark. For once I am able to Focus.

The human body under the microscope, behaves no differently than humanity itself. Drawn beneath the sheath, however, is something more shocking. Souls will never die, they cycle through the continium of nature. This is by law. For it has been written, and therefore must be obeyed.

An accident has happened. The soar of screaming sirens hurl throught he condensed summer air. I can smell the oxygen. It adsorbs to my blood and I am replenished. I am still weak. How can I become stronger?

Greyness. These are the shades caught in between. There's always a bridge that lies somewhere. Mankind can be so ignorant.

This is my badge, my tattoo. Pride never looked so liberated.

Fine.
---------------------------------------------------------

I admit to many things. When these things are finally forgotten, that's when you know you have moved on.

IPPY

2005-02-25T04:56:00.000-08:00

banner

2005-02-05T05:42:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, the world ended.

Tears trickled down my wounded facade. The faint glow of water, so detached and out of place, spun a silky web that thawed against the evening heat. So abundant was emptiness right now. The infection had spread. It had gone too far…

For nights and days, I had encaged myself inside this labyrinth. Here, solutions were oblivious and existence challenged. Purpose is for the weak, for those who are blind and stubborn. I am my own entity.

My views on individualism have changed in the past years. Now, I walk the streets as a self-professed capitalist. There is no order in my world, only mess. Well-placed and organised mess is an impression of (self) interest. Creation is only an excuse for modification.

Minds can be so disproportionate and biased. Had I played myself in chess, I would have found myself in the position of stalemate. Lost in the constraints I set myself. Endangerment. Work seemed so meaningless. Procrastination is the only alternative.

I have grown old. Like the withered strokes of oil-based paint on canvas weathered by the intensities of nature, I am fading. The colours have been siphoned by a harsh shade of reality. They are trapped in the deeply etched trenches on my cracked skin.

The touch of air sucked dried the sublime salt on my cheek, and I was left to wonder. Where do I go from now?

Judgement will pass. Philosophy will grow. But I will always remain mortal. Death is inevitabably necessary. The world had not died yet… it had simply ended.

Fine.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
Locked for re-birth. The cycle had completed its revolution. Life is about to begin… even if it was for a second time.

Full of lies. Full of fear. Darkness had never seen such light.

IPPY

Technical Difficulties

2005-01-21T04:30:00.000-08:00

<<> >

----------------------------------------------
[insert techno unsavvy and confused person's name]

{end}

2005-01-17T01:40:00.000-08:00

Mondays. I dread them.

Today I've made cloud watching an official hobby of mine. Although the skies haven't been clear for the earlier part of the day, I found the ritual soothing. At least now I can spot nimbus clouds with my untrained eye. I can predict their movements even though they lay frozen frames in the manuscript of time. I look and I look. To the far reaches and beyond. Fate, can there be still such a thing?

The blue heavens conjured a shelf of white fluffy mallows. They arrived orderly and blocked out the sun. A concoction of silver and brightness riveted through the hollow sky. Will it rain today? The Gods stood proud over their silver spoons that dissolved into whipped cream in the distance. And the world continued revolving: revolving around the sun.

Staring towards the unlaced skies my mind cleared, just as the clouds parted and I felt a little closer to emancipation, a little closer to being in heaven and a little closer to being real. My friends are now my life. We are all magnets unto ourselves. We attract and dettract in an random but regular fashion. Positives and negatives attract. Ying and Yang. Male-Female. Once a neutral charge is obtained everything becomes one. Everything is blurred so that it overrides the system, hijacking all the emotions.

My mind caught inside the eye of a giant whirlwind peeled towards the ocean. I am on a pilgrimage to find myself.

A grain of sand on the beach drifted as the current dragged it, sucking it so that it rested gently and comfortably inside the bellow of the ocean floor. Untouched. Unscathed. And an eerie pristine innocence remained. Left out to decay.

Fine.
-------------------------------------------------
Things happen so fast that sometimes you can lose count. Sometimes it feels better to return to the skin that you have recently shed, it feels warmer and more inviting. Even so, its important that we remain ourselves (whatever that may be?)

2005-01-15T04:13:00.002-08:00

Chained. That's how I felt. The blood flowed slowly until it smeared my sore palms. At once I recognized the dense dye gleaming from its saturated fabric. This was from me. I was losing myself to the cause.

The crimson red thickened and hardened on the canals of my skin. My naked body pressed against the wet ceramic tiles. Consumed by the bottled flames on her eyes, my heart swelled and settled to a metronomic tempo exploding its silver threads on the off beats.

The moon growled at me. It stemmed beaming stars from its glowing aura. The skies glittered as if water and I felt myself sink.

Then it began. The sweet percipitation cleansed my feet. Murky blood washed down to the nearest drain. My hands were still covered with those primitive traces. The moment was too soon. I paused. Sustaining the aquous bullets on my back, I tucked myself neatly into my knees.

My fingers like mechanical gears creaked. The sharp claws combed the clean floor. I clicked on the off button.

The invigarating pain had ceased...

There were no more chains.

Fine.
----------------------------------------------------
My sleeping habits have returned to normal. Now I can recover from those sudden lapses of tiredness and anxiety. No more panic attacks anymore~! Yay!

IPPY

2005-01-14T05:04:00.001-08:00

cabinet to my life

2005-01-14T05:04:00.000-08:00

new paper

2005-01-12T16:53:00.000-08:00

I cannot confide my feelings. They are part of my entity.

Studying @ Box Hill library today~!! Yay~!

2005-01-12T16:18:00.000-08:00

celebration.. Go Jen.. for getting her driving learner's permit~!! Woo Hoo!! U go girl~!

2005-01-10T21:43:00.000-08:00

Solidarity. I was drowning. Too exhausted to feel and emote. With my sweaty palms trembling I collapsed.

The smell of stale coffee and cheap cigarettes filled my nostrils. Where am I? My lungs swelled up with the taste of bitterness. A gentle breeze swept through the streets and I filled myself with the fresh uncontaminated sweet air. Exhuming the fumes from my body, I looked up towards the sky. I'm Alive?

They huddled around me and I finally realised where I was, what I was trying to do before it happened. Their waning hands reached out and I felt my spine shiver. The blood on my hands thickened and like water it glittered against the harsh light which their paleness cast. Amongst them I found her. Her body naked. Syphoned of all life. Floating across the barren pavement she gazed at me as if examining a biological specimen. The gust of wind returned and her glowing hair wavered covering her face.

My eyes never left her. Even when she evaporated into thin air, I still managed to see her. It was a strange sensation but suprisingly familar. Her touch, her smell and her voice leapt back into my mind. The images flickered as if a forgotten photo album. Emphatically her marred body returned. Control? Drifted by the swell of currents I found myself back where I was. Expression hurt. Silence had killed my slumber.

Fine.

----------------------------------------------------------

Controversy. Opinions only complicate the matter. No need to haul my beliefs. What good is god?

"Perhaps if I wanted to be understood or to understand I would bamboozle myself into belief, but I am a reporter; God exists only for leader-writers."
(The Quiet American - Graham Greene)

Ippy

2005-01-07T15:32:00.000-08:00

.......

late nites... i guess... btw it's not wat u fink it is... its a fag.. one of dose. musk lollies...

i love sweets. @ nite... ^_^

2005-01-07T15:30:00.000-08:00

Eddy... self explanatory

2005-01-07T05:04:00.000-08:00

Pigeon Man

The tiny vessels dilated. Blood gushed through the warm opening. Drip. Pressure build up had caused the walls to collapse. Drip. Drip. Drip. Saturated in a dark red dye, the cotton sheet turned itself to reveal a clean white canvas on the other side. Debris littered the stream and glided towards the fall. The current increased as the hole widened. Like a hose the stream poured its thick liquid out of its system. ..

Losing his balance, he fell onto the bench. The man rolled his head towards the ancient engravings that tagged the piece of public furniture. The pigeons cooed at his beer-stench garments. Feed us! He sat up and slid his feet back to the ground. The blood had clotted by now and although he felt airy, he managed to pull his gloved hand into his pocket and sprinkled some bread. One for you, one for me! His dark grimacing eyes were locked towards a lone tree in the nearby picturesque orange backdrop. The birds fluttered their wings and arrived one at a time landing on a specified airstrip of the park. Propped up against the orange-clouded haze of the nearby streetlights he felt like a curator caring and feeding what was "his children". They gathered towards him. The congregation was assembled. His plan was in place and they prepared for the attack. .

The breeze of frost blew towards them and they returned to their strings of paradise. Nestled amongst the vibrating wires they remained taciturn. The briefing was complete. Everything was ready. This had indeed been a long night. The target had yet to arrive. We should wait. Flickering again, the lights finally terminated. His head moved towards the moon, his only source of light. A small buggy droned in the far distance trimming the edges of this concrete jungle. Slithering its way across a set of tracks was yet another, larger, beast. A carrier of potential targets. This was the last one. Like a walking crosshair, it emerged from the bellies of the night tram. Departing from flashing hazard lights, it gently directed itself towards a large monument. Standing beside a tree, it unzipped and froze. His face paled by the frosting breeze, numbed. His body infactuated with a feeling of triumph. Mission Accomplished. He signalled a huge thumbs up to his ancients as they smiled back to him from the moonlit skies above.

The target adjusted its wig and gazed up where it found beauty, something it had not seen for a long time...

Fine.
-----------------------------------------------------------
>_< when procrastination finds you.... where do you hide?

Satisfaction. Push me until you get my Satisfaction.

His fingers ,exhausted, had dimmed its flare to produce life. He turned to his pillow for sanctuary and retired out into the night.

Ippy
(My arm is sore from badminton and my voice hoarse from Karaoke. How will I work tomorrow? or later today... i never realised how late it is.... maybe that's why i called this blog pernocation... )
d^_^b

2005-01-05T01:57:00.000-08:00

2005-01-04T22:59:00.000-08:00

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

2005-01-04T03:35:00.001-08:00

Ephemeral.

There are no other words that describe it. These days, months and years. I type religiously.Am I not.... alone?

Count grains of sand. These were the things I used to do as a child. Eight... Nine.. Ten.. A momentarily pause. My fingers are frozen. What comes after ten? Baffled by my innocence, I doze off to sleep. My slumber is dull, yet it's inviting.

The world is nothing like it was anymore. People know things. Terrible things. Like the hidden thorns of a rose, they lie undetected and unknown. Secrets... Sometimes even secrets can kill.
-----------------------------------------------------------
She peered through the transparent glass. I waved. My face is wet. It throbs. Infected with streaks of salt-filled tears, I rub my eyes gently against my wrists. Will I ever see you again? Those words echoed, howling. A beam of emptiness ricocheted off the walls of the four primary chambers. If only.... She waved. My thoughts evaporated into the dense air. Unmistakably, a bright smile donned her cheeks. Fate. She whispered.Fate.

Fine.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Thank you to Chao & Jen for encouraging me to start this blog! You girls are irreplacable. There will always be a place in my heart for you two.

For everyone else.... please enjoy my noctornal and often insomniac ostinatus rambling.
(I can't believe it took a trip to the State Library to get me fired up)
Ippy