
I wake up one morning trying to figure things out. The world seems blurry around me; uncertain and bleak. I start to question why life has different meanings. The answer, so naive and plain, that life is fortified with smooth roads and harsh obstacles to make us full in our dimensions. And that what makes life worth living.
Saturday, 27 June 2009
X
"You are the kindest person I met in my life. And most truthful. I don't know if it's right or wrong. I still think a lot about you." Sadly and deeply moved... Are these muffled psalm of regret or thanksgiving?
"Though we have moved on too far, I still care for you." But no, we should end it here. There are no good byes that won't hurt. And there are no good byes that won't lead you to a new beginning.
I always believe that time has its own manifestations. Suffice it to say, we had our own fated moment or at once, a period of disposal. Be happy now with the course of life you're in. I'm a grateful heart that you have confided in me your prolonged privation. Yes, you are in the right track. Happy wedding, and may you have a blessed marriage.
Mwahugs,
Boyeng <3
Sunday, 21 June 2009

I put on her new pair of dia while she's still snoring. Though she kind of jerked and pushed my hand when I put them on, I did it anyway :D I hope she won't ask me to take the pair off tomorrow when she wakes up.
Sunday, 24 May 2009
Saturday, 23 May 2009
Brat

Tuesday, 12 May 2009
Boreas
chase the blue skies
watching the leaves
fall into grey;
a foliage of auburn
and flowers wither,
yet brings forth
a myriad of hope
that opens in the snow
fondles the glacial north
when love takes its wing.
Friday, 1 May 2009
Power Puff Girls

Friday, 24 April 2009
Best Friends

I sooo miss, miss, miss you two. I bet Ma has given a lot of attention to both of you. Because she can't leave nor move to another place without you mongrels.
Thursday, 23 April 2009
Oldies
Le 01/04/08 01:03, « mariale ohya »
I know not for which fate is worse: to have not opened my heart at all or to have loved and lost someone as I did. There is one thing I know though. Loving him was a sweet misery. I loved him as I love life itself, but I was certain that I would never be in his arms for he longs to hold another. I have resigned to the fact that I shall be with him only in my dreams.
He once came into my loneliness and stirred the passion in my heart from its disturbed slumber. He was the beautiful sun, which rose for me on that beautiful morning of a new day of my life. His existence was enough reason for me to be born and entrusted to this void we call our world. I was hurt, maybe I still am. I thought I would never fall in love again. I was scared and lost my trust in love because it brought me nothing but despair. I knew that the glory of that morning would not last. For it must give way to night time, when the beautiful sun, which had heralded the coming of a new day, would become my pitiless tormentor. My affection for him then was my own passion.
He was my cruel tyrant.
It is now my desire to be strong, to never allow my heart to be broken again. Silly how he came barging in and while I refuse to open, I detrimentally failed to shut the door. Well perhaps loving him was like writing poetry: creating a thing of beauty, a heart's song, yet a song I was afraid to sing, for my ballad might be mocked and my love rejected. Nonetheless, life itself is short and passing. No matter what happened, I have learned not to let my song to the grave. I can only be nothing but hopeful.
Maybe my love for him will someday fade with the setting of the sun. But until such time when I will no longer be a slave of my own passion, I shall continue to master the art of letting go. There can be nothing more apt than this.
Le 09/04/08 06:56, « mariale ohya »
I cannot find the right words to explain how I kept myself sane over the past years of being just by myself, of being alone on Friday nights. My sanity lies in the realization that neither myself nor my destiny can ever control the truth about having a relationship.
I was born alone, why would I kill myself just to have someone in my bed?
Gloria Steinem said: "A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle." Just like a fish, I could still swim the deep waters; without even learning how to walk, even ride bikes. Yes, I have survived years without the comforts of a partner because I am a woman.
Sadness could devour me like a forest fire, but my mind keeps telling me that I can be happy, that I can be normal; even though my hormones are now going haywire. Sometimes, I would just scream at the top of my lungs to release the pressures of being alone. And then, I would just come back to my senses and realize that in my solitude I found the person who would always be there for me... myself.
Looking past the mirror in front of me, I see what is beyond the lines forming under my eyes, with brows slowly shaping into an arch of non-conformity. I see the nakedness of my femininity reaching its value. I do not see curves, rather it is the simplicity of being who I am that suppresses the madness.
Insanity... I have no clue what that means anymore.
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
Ballad of Wonder
Place upon the cravings of the early morning,
From which the heart shall claim the sky,
The soul that never rest from knowing
A shell of dreams that never die.
Thus, move with the shadows doubt
And believing the void without,
And living slightly less regretting,
While knowing powers deep within.
And curse, and play, and give, and feel
The many things so profoundly real.
Again, and again the mind still wonder
The thousand mysteries to love and ponder.
For soon this frail vehicle of flesh and blood
Shall pass with time and turn to mud,
But the mind and the heart will still be glad
For all the wonders that they once had.
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
April Fool's Day
Swiss Miss Family

I missed my ever cousin Nico. And his tie is a delight to my eyes. Pink. My favorite.
Sunday, 29 March 2009
ZED

Thursday, 19 March 2009
Wine Overdose

Monday, 16 March 2009
Saturday, 14 March 2009
~nipped.
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Carl Raymon

It's a loot of chocolates and more chocolates from white to dark... Yum! More Japanese goodies, those sweet mochi. Sticky! Of course, Carl Raymon's packs of sausages. A book. An album, set of pictures of places I would like to be at, whenever I feel like thinking and to be secluded from the madding crowd. Oh, there's me! Woot! I have to unpack now before I'd dig memories from the past.



