draw a circle on a pristine beach,
to confine yourself within.
then, step out.

it is still the same beach,
with the circle still on the sand,
and, you are still you.

the world outside the circle hasn't change a bit.

eventually, its is us who have the ability to confine ourselves to stay within non-physical boundaries. yet, we are also the ones who could free ourselves from it.

a bubble and a fish

once upon a time, a small fish lived in a shiny and pretty bubble.

people outside the bubble worried for the little fish. some feared the bursting of her small little bubble one day, while others felt sad for her, for in their minds all they saw was a trapped fish.

but in truth, our dear little fish never really minded. because only she could see the world through her small little bubble, how special! and, she was rather pleased with everything she saw, for they were beautiful. though again she can never be sure if the vibrant colours were from the world itself or her special little bubble.

but she don't really need to know, does she?

there are times where she would wonder quietly what would happen if she ever bump into another bubble one day.

once, she tried crossing a thin bridge spanned across a valley, and it was then when she finally realised that there are just some things that will remain complicated and tough, whether u are inside or outside a bubble.

what are the chances of 2 persons who don't know the existence of each other finding each other on this very same earth at the very same time?

what are the chances of them meeting, if 1 chooses to hide?

... characters of the exact scene can tell so much sometimes.

on the stage, some play a character out of fun, some play it to help a friend. some simply play it to see how certain character suffers according to the scriptwriter.

some gets thrown into the act unprepared, others think of ways to get onto the stage. some play it willingly, some think for a long while to decide whether he/she will sink too deep into the play.

some wonder if some characters are really as simple as they look. some question the effects on the audience and each character after the play.

resounding applause -

what comes after the drawing of the curtain (for each character)?

what an interesting play. isn't life the stage and things that happen to us different acts of changing scenes? interesting play. what marvellous actors and actresses have we - or are we?

story of a small leaf...

once, a small leaf fell into the waters.
it thought nothing changed except that it was wet, on one side.
yet it didn't see the ripples beneath its back.
and hence, it didn't know where they will reach -

if they would cross paths with other ripples or, stop somewhere.

the small leaf didn't know, hence it did not wonder.
it remains contented,
just lying on the waters and being a small leaf.

what ignorant small leaf,
what a blissful small leaf!

initially, the graph of self awareness followed the trend y = 0.1x. however, after a certain point along the x-axis (age), the graph became an exponential function. and i denote this critical point of transition by (self-centredness, selfishness). its formula being "everything is about me, period."

irritatingly, you observe that its the same case with everyone (most people) around you. and even more annoyingly, you realised your own graph is beginning to shape like this as well. and you totally detest this actual becoming of this type of "someone" whom you never liked and would never want to become. argh. totally (O_0) annoyed and irritated.

thank god for the certain few good souls around me that are not like this and don't make me feel like this either. whenever did voicing out become so important to people all of a sudden? why do i feel such a strong distaste to be around people who always speak but seldom listen? could it be because i am also one of them, hence the existence of 2 dominant species?

yet i can still feel the sense of harmonised comfort when that few good souls are around me - our turns to talk and listen are simply so well balanced? i don't really want to listen, therefore i do not want to speak. or perhaps, i don't really want to speak to you, therefore i don't want to listen to you?

but why the want for a response or an acknowledgment? why is it so important to be heard? because you can't find the right person to give you 99% of the right responses you expect to get? perhaps i am biased because i had always been listened to. yet why are there just some people you simply enjoy listening to and sharing with? affinity? play of emotions, mood?

how exactly do you stay unbiased and non-judgmental towards individual speakers? still find this extremely challenging and tiring - to be a nice and good person and at the same time stay true to your thoughts and feelings. sometimes, somehow the guilt following your want for being carefree without attachment just wears you out. can one ever get the right balance, and, even if one does get it one day, will happiness then be guaranteed?


balance.
life is about.
all.

on the wall there was a tiny little crack. if u paid enough attention, it will be spotted. but similar walls were everywhere, and the walls just keep getting taller so that they can feel the wind and that so other walls will not block them. it ended up with every single wall becoming taller and taller, constantly being blocked by other walls and blocking other walls - yet they are essentially still the very same wall (with cracks) that conceal but doesn't protects. what strange walls! what dark cloth it was covered with!

heareth.

atop a lonely mountain i stand -
reflections in the flakes of snow.
mirror my emotions - blank and nought!

if i had yelled would anyone hear me?
if i yell, what would my echo say?
heareth now.
silence.

silence then, silence now.

cold snowy white mountain top,
an ailing sweet rose lay.
what chilling wind!
how cold the night.
still as dead, petals danced.

weird beings,
heareth!
heareth of the wordless voice.
heareth hard -
for my heart's longing -
the soft cotton wool shrouded by large floating clouds.

as i wonder
as i thought
that nothing and nothing
from nothing to nothing
through nothing but nothing.

so will the stillwater flow,
so will the river run.

so will i be claimed.

silence then,
silence now.
heareth.

water faerie took a slow walk by the river one night. she saw a few stars shining ever so brightly across the milky way and stopped by the riverbank. the river glistered silently, reflecting rays of soft moon light from the quiet crescent hanging in the dark sky. her little rabbit friend popped its head out from among the bushes and hopped gracefully onto her lap as she sat herself gently on the grass.

this rabbit was to her, a truly special one. it was as if she felt a connection with it the first time she carried it. and whenever she was with it, no words need to to be said. they could sit like this for hours - if there ever were a time concept in her land at all! yet strangely, this particular night, her heart started humming a song, one that contained a distant memory which she knew she could never recall, because of the promise. "but it must have been a beautiful one." she whispered to herself, that she was certain. and that promise which she had to keep, why couldn't she remember a thing about it at all?

though so, the very next moment, our ever-so-impromptu and slightly mischievous little water faerie, (whose mind is constantly filled with thousands of creative ideas), bounced up from where she was, and invited her special rabbit for a dance. she then raised her right hand to the darkness, and drew a thin line with her fingers, joining the brightest star across the sky (at this very hour) to her special rabbit. she closed her eyes and made a silent wish. and when she opened her eyes once more, she saw him.

just then, a music begins to play itself, and they began their dance - dancing like no one is watching - because there really is no one watching (or so thought our little water faerie). their sliding was graceful, and occasionally a couple of delightful turns and swirls. and little water faerie wondered hard at this familiar dancer leading her along the riverbank. it was as though she ever danced like this before with him. but where? when? his smile felt so dear. yet the memory just slips away each time she tried to hold on. why... after frowning for a while, she finally decided that now should not be the time to think, for in this place, you never know how long the magic will last. so she closed her eyes and followed his lead, and they danced away, into the night.

love thursdays. u simply lose track of time when u are doing something u truly enjoy, whether u are good at it or not doesn't really matter anymore...

if only time could come to a stand still this moment.
then nothing more would happen.

appears for one single dance and then kind of really just vanish after that. that would have been kind of the perfect setting. looking at just that glimpse of a second, and strictly nothing more after that. feeling free of any thoughts just for that moment itself and that will be enough. for me.

really liked this song in twilight. the tune. the setting. the scene. the atmosphere. the dance.


Flightless Bird, America Mouth

I was a quick wet boy, diving too deep for coins
All of your street light eyes wide on my plastic toys
Then when the cops closed the fair, I cut my long baby hair
Stole me a dog-eared map and called for you everywhere

Have I found you
Flightless bird, jealous, weeping or lost you, American mouth
Big pill looming

Now I'm a fat house cat
Nursing my sore blunt tongue
Watching the warm poison rats curl through the wide fence cracks
Pissing on magazine photos
Those fishing lures thrown in the cold
And clean blood of Christ mountain stream

Have I found you
Flightless bird, grounded, bleeding or lost you, American mouth
Big pill stuck going down

is having a hope and then losing it totally better than never having it in the first place?
can we say so for some other things in life? like love?
to never have found true love at all is definitely better than to find it and then lose it one day?

to experience both sadness and joy and never forget either or never to know at all how it felt having them?

there's so much more to see and learn in life. can one go on forever thinking that life is just the beginning for them?

twilight. new moon. eclipse. breaking dawn.
how can a love so intense, so strong last for eternity and yet coexist with happily ever after?

too good to be true.
too hopeful to let go.

sometimes its only when you don't know where to look that you find it.
life's lesson just has to be taught in the most innovative way.
hah! life.

just when you thought you've looked deep enough, it just gets deeper.
just when you thought you've thought wide enough, it just gets wider.
just when you thought you've had enough, it just wouldn't stop.
life. amusing life. but perhaps not the one living it.

its been quite a while since i last remembered about the pandora box which lay quietly, deep down on the floor bed of the springs.
but its fine. the key is not with the box.
the ripples across the springs are temporal. that i am sure.

it will stay shut. for that i am certain, for i had already forgotten where i put the key.

water fairy stood by the seemingly young tree. a small tree without doubt, yet all the more she revered it, for its beginnings were rooted in the very first days of the earth. she taps once, and then knocked twice before she affirmed it was hollow. her heart sank, without warning.

looking up, she reached for a deep emerald-shade apple hanging just by the outermost branch to her left, and tugged at it gently. she sat down, leaning against the tree and tossed the apple between her hands. she wondered for once why she had been so taken by it before, and why she wasn't as fascinated now, though the apple did not look a tiniest bit different - sparkling, tempting since the very first time she had set her eyes upon it.

she slowly raised it to her lips, the light crunch startled her a little. a tear had escaped and trickled down her cheeks at that very same moment. she was puzzled, for she did not understand why, for she was feeling truly peaceful when the tear had slipped. a sour and bittersweet apple. the aftertaste lingered on a second longer. how interesting. the taste was definitely more memorable than she intended it for, unlike any taste she has had before, in fact. she wasn't sure she liked it, neither was she certain of taking another bite so she looked at the apple intently, her gaze was so deep yet faraway that, if you look into her eyes at that exact but fleeting point in time, you will see nothing, and nothing only.

existence of the abstract existence.

what exactly is the evidence to prove existence exists? memory? flawed. since everyone remembers things differently, as with the way they look at them. even more flawed if existence is distant, since a large part ends up relying even more on the way of and the different people who interpret the very memory.

so let's say if trust varies proportionally with the consistency of memory, which varies consistently with the number of people remembering anyone or anything in particular (that has ever existed before), then, if we don't trust humanity then we can never trust the concept of the existence of anything outside our time frame and space dimension totally.

and so, if you ever have forever in your hand, you can actually create the existence of infinite 'anyone's and 'anything's as long as you are able to alter memory. so essentially, memory is so easy to mistrust, easier than anything else in the world? taking into consideration the fact that human beings are not exactly the most trustworthy species to start with.

then again, given time frame restrictions, what might be the point of ensuring and remembering the 'existence' of someone or something seriously, if there is no way to change or undo anything about them in the first place? history.

i am never less-fasincated with it no matter. the ultimate source of some truly wonderful and exciting stories and imaginations, and which never have to really come true to bring amazement, fun and even joy to the ones creating them as well as the ones listening to them. most of the time though, the more you are able to believe such stories and imgainations can exist, the more enjoyment you derive.

why is escapism necessarily bad if it brings nothing but a moment of sheer happiness? no one said that happiness has to be eternal or else it would be useless, for the very group of people who said that, they probably would have contradicted their very selves immediately?

if we can dream something into existence, by working really hard at it, then can we dream a person into existence too? or it hugely hinges on our interpretation? i.e. if certain dreams are able to exist in reality, so let's assume that we believe very hard in the existence of a soulmate, our very own soulmate. would then the person really exists?

and then what if i earnestly believe in his existence, yet i also sincerely believe that we will never meet? can something or someone that doesn't exist be as important or more important to us than any random person who already exists in our life, simply beause of the very notion of hope he brings along with him?

like so many things,
so many things exist.
i realised that i don't need to meet my soulmate to make sure he exists.
i just need to know he does and he will.

neither am i sure i'll ever want to meet him
for we are all born simple and content.

trading in the certainty of never finding yourself complete again if we ever lose each other one day just to feel what completeness is, is just requiring more courage than i think i have. serendipity, nonetheless. life is larger than finding our soulmate? just like the concept of happiness coming in more than one form.

rich and complete happiness versus the simpler happiness, perhaps for now, i'd want nothing else except the simpler. if we were never offered options, would we really stay happy the way we had been till forever?

满园玫瑰我以为找到我那一朵
认真爱了却狠狠刺伤我的双手
责备什麽人也没有用
玫瑰都红难免看错

望着天空爱是风活在童话里头
小王子说有些事流浪过才会懂
原来每颗心都有个洞
找不到真爱会一直寂寞

我但愿有一个人在等我

在属於我的612星球

好让我忍着痛也愿意往下走

不快乐至少要有梦

一定会有一个人在等我

无条件拥抱着我的所有

想遇见我还要翻越多少山丘


花别谢太快请你等等我
擦干眼泪一个人漂流在这宇宙
小王子说爱一定开在某个角落
不想相爱的人那麽多
我会幸福吗在什麽时候

leap? no.
don't want to start things on the wrong step.

don't want to start anything at all.

not now. really.
like it when my plate is empty.

people are so funny.
i am so funny.

peter pan...
could he really stay so happy after wendy left?
would he change his mind...
if asked again to choose

nonsensical blabberings.
don't mind me.