Stories Retold

Just hum with me...

kyou mo mata mezame yume dato kizuku asa. koi shisou ni mitsumeru egao ga, ima mo kienai. kimi to ita ano uta ga mada kikenai. kokoro shizuka ni te wo tsunagi. shizumi yuku yuuhi wo mitsumereba, kotoba nante hitotsu mo iranakatta? shiawase no imi shitta no.

tooi machi made dekaketa birthday. tokubetsu na de-to de. nigiri shimeta te no naka ni hikaru, osoroi no pair ring.

owaranai mono-gatari uso no you ni.

itsuka ha owaru tabi no naka? aisuru yorokobi wo kureta anata ni arigatou sakebuyo. kikoeteru nara koe wo todokete onegai.

ano hi mita yuuhi tsutsumi komu ookina orange ga. ima mo mune wo atatakaku suru kara. tachidomatte ha yume wo miru no yo kotoshi mo.

4th of June 2007

"it would be the happiest looking through the pouring rain; into your soul. and knowing you shivering safe from harm, light from your wings, in my arms. oh, and i feel drums in my chest; with each drop, the infinite rain cleanses all senses of longing... forevermore." (07:28a)

if only
these were not
just figments,
abstract painting of words...

if only
we're not adrift
in thoughts,
forever seeking
thy arms.

"what then
what of these times
so alive
in dreams, in hope
where to travel
then if not in words
these web of fragments
where soul awaits
love, live
bodyless purgatory
of endless numbers
counted in loops.
what then
if this longing
took flesh
embodied
with emotion...
what then?"
(08:18a)

what then
of frightened heart
this skeptic mind
wallow in mixed
emotions...
thus me.

"lay them bare
in truthfulness
like a flower;
sweet rose
in my open mind
under the rain."
(08:41a)

the rendezvous
of coming together;
what a lovely day
meeting in a place.
yet time
will come to mind
both must part
make life anew
in separate ways
each to their own
world.

It just started to put an end. My wings flew away with him, and he never came back. With only these words I could look back. You brought back to me what I lost... I yield to it. My passion. Momentarily.

sweet rose
prickly yet dearly
petals, thy sweet smell
blooming in deep fuschia
to heavens it look up
unroot these vines...
let go and
free.

Yellow Butterfly

Butterflies are hope for the flowers. I grabbed it from nowhere in those old melancholic days. I scrounged. I squattex. In less than ten minutes I was done. A no read-thing. So simple. Entertains my toddler cousin I supposed. Thoughts transfixed. I read it once more. Slowly. More clearly. This time it unveiled to me the unpretentious laminations of words were nothing to it. For it is as complex as to the life of the fanciful characters in the tale. It talks of deed. If I learnt from it... many plants are dependent upon these small creatures visits.

I walked my way home when one tiny being landed in my hand. I held it in my palm for a while and examined it. I love butterflies. And I wanted to keep it. Flipped open its wings. Struggling. I let it go. It declined. I picked it up.

When I got home, it laid contrast to the black table I placed it on. I watched it sprang and bounded... and gradually succumbed to its own demise. I flaked out. Wearied.

Not knowing it was a visit...

My grandfather died.
02:14PM, 25 September 2007


Out Of Kilter

I hurried to the taxi stand, and good heavens, flagged down the first cab waiting. I know I got raised brows from those made-up girls in their hooker-pumps behind my back, as I heard them spat furies in Japanese. I never looked back. I just had to get in the cab for I was already late.

Astonished I was, I took in deep breath and settled in calm pride. It was untoward to entertain their spiteful venom. I wouldn't condescend myself to overthrow any argument. I raced my way to get in line first, to rebut myself. So get out of my way, ladies.

While jammed in traffic, the cab driver instanced me for a chat. He posed questions and I politely answered them. It was undiscerning at first. We're a block near to my workplace when my attention was called to mental reservation. Our conversation tend to moral looseness.

CB: Are you already married?
Me: Nuh, not yet.
CB: Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: I don't have time.
CB: I would like to be your friend.
Me: (Whoa, friend? My palpitations started to pulse erratically. Should I leap out from this car? But door is automated-locked. Should I act comically for them to notice that there's a lady trapped inside with a maniac freely driving the car?) I've had worst of imaginations under this negative circumstance. I had to keep safe, I was mute.
CB: (Seemed not undignified to express himself bawdly he asked...) Would you like to go on a date on your free days? On weekend probably?
Me: (I turned bloody-red and my ears were puffing out hot air. I confirmed my outrage, and make it to his face disparagingly...) I'm sorry but I have a very busy weekends. And I suggest that you look around, because you will find someone of your age.

Anything could happen after that. He could take me to the other route, or what. But we moved our way not talking already. Though my nerves were still out of kilter, silence was such a comfort at that time.


Boss Chronicles

I. After our first movie-out, he never stop pestering me then. To let him know how agitated I am already, I usually reply in English to make him headreelswimwhirl. And yet, here it is...

Thank you for Marayaru email. English is a native language of Marayaru and talks commonly at home. I can ask you about confidence of Marayaru. I want to provoke it for a date to ( a night view) of meal collecting, Odaiba, Shinjuku, Ikebukuro secretly if good, but how will about is this time? There is not her now.

My head went gaga thinking what he supposed to mean in this mail. He could just very well express it in Nihonggo, rather trust some translator device just so he thought I'd be impressed if he knew some English.

II. Because he would never give up on me. He took up all his strength to convene me to his office and gave me that sheepish smile when he handed me an envelope. A pseudo-loveletter? Like all his other MMS, there's always this cross language translation. This time he challenged me in kanji, though the other half-side of the letter contained the so-so-English translation. Sure, these romantic lines which sagged my eyes would blow me away. Nuh-uh, what we have here is something which would make you hold your breath, tighten the knots of your abdomen, untool every synapse of your neurons, and yeah, fart, fart, fart in between laughs.

Good evening Mari.
Thank you for an email. I notice well, and Mari compares as an aspect of work with other people and thinks when common. And smile of Mari, character, all of styles were attractive and came to like you. I take out leave with pay next Wednesday (December 13) if good and want to date. In time, I go to a house to meet you at 11:00. For a plan, it is a night view, a meal of 60 Ikebukuro sunshine observatories, aquarium, Shinjuku Southern Cross Illuminations, Odaiba, Yokohama. I look forward to that I can go with two people. I ask other people secretly.

That must be why his face was the color of taiy☼u in Japan's flag, when he shushed me not to tell anyone about his asking me out. And I caved in.


In Their Guise

I am intermittently doing and un-doing what I want to write about here. Tears are streaming down my cheeks to be honest with you. It's so hard to be miles apart from people who truly care for you. I miss my friends. I miss their brutal honesty and genuine love. I miss being at the company of sensible minds and the kindness of their hearts. To whom I could bare my soul, my desires and childlike fantasies unjudged. I miss such friendship that comforts me in this truce of life. Here is a world full of lies, deceptions and pretenses. When can they be true to themselves? No matter how they project a skin anew and hide inside their frocks, they will still turn ugly. Their own deceit will betray them as it would surface how they deplore the language which they could not even muster. And this masquerade they gloze themselves in will veneer off the appearance they so perfectly improve each day; the true of colors of a copycat.


A Trip To Second Fiddle

Yesterday. Midafternoon came but my thoughts still wandered. It was one of those days when illness struck. Usual for me, having this chronic sleeping problem. I was just waiting for drowsiness to set in, when I came out from the toilet my aunt told me we're going out. I could not say anything but yes. Certainly I wanted to.

A feel of spring breeze jerked my face to ohhhs-ahhhs-smiles. I was akin to a year-old-child on her first candle-blow, at a stare in bewilderment. Head on whirls, bemused to the smell of fresh greens and the left-over moist of eve. I felt all emotions gushing through me. Such a beauty.

What more it could be.

Finally, I found myself to where I've been clamoring out for weeks. It didn't take me long what to opt for. I got three dishes added to my food brain-iac of a shelf. If I were back in PI, mama would clean that counter every time. Or insist that I cover my books before it's too late they mint, spine creased or dusty. I'm lazy most of the time. So there's mother to get my butt move around.