erised

"erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi"

times where i wonder,
what exactly would i see?

would i be surprised?

if i were, does it mean that i do not know my own heart?

its perhaps not too difficult to know what we like,
but 'love' and 'desire' are strong, dangerous words.

the kingdom of night and glass

the castle sat atop the mountains, surrounded by perpetual darkness, engulfed by an air of magic and mystery.

she could feel her own heartbeat quicken.

should she?

atomic number 82

 a heavy metal denser than most common materials, yet also soft and malleable.

much like the same word in verb form.

ashore

a relatively mad 48 hours of sorts.

first instance of anger, perhaps more disappointment? 

tough to be you... i guess.

how many masks do you need to adorn?

just the tip of an iceberg from my end,

and oftentimes i've caught myself looking ashore.

an idealist like yourself - what keeps you going?

i mean, besides coffee, of course.

a little.

there goes my heart beating,
cos you are the reason.

swim every ocean just to be with you,
fix what's broken, make sure the light defeated the dark.

just a little closer now, come a little closer now
glance, once more.

the furry beast just grew a tiny bit.

just
a
little
bit.

day 66.
56 days to go.

a slight beam?

so.

seemed like you really beamed today.
hope this snapshot will stay with you for a while, and remain warm for some time.

another two months or so should do the trick i guess,
am already feeling it slipping away.

the beast, finally tamed a little -
a rather adorable creature still, nonetheless.

think i may also finally have an inkling of my soft spot.
its "the" sense of being misunderstood by the world.

when perhaps, deep down, one is not
every bit as evil or mean as perceived.

perhaps, beneath that strong front,
one does possess a gentle side that can do with some tender care.

no matter,
just another two months.

blink of an eye,
i'm sure.

dreaming

we're not in love
we share no stories
just something in your eyes

the shadows know me
fall into the dark side

we don't need the light

i see it, let's feel it
while we're still young and fearless

beneath the sky
as black as diamonds
we're running out of time

don't wait for truth
to come and blind us
let's just believe their lies

no secrets worth keeping
so fool me like I'm dreaming

a simple name, miles away.
brief, gentle flutters.

a month, in a moment.

hypothesis: day 13

a small project
a four-month hypothesis

none, or none.
december twenty eighth.

today the beast grew a little, just a little.

a rather adorable creature still,
(at the moment).

grey eyes.
this little creature has clear, grey eyes.

it would appear this little creature
is brimming a little too.

understandably,

who wouldn't love a little escape -
especially a sanctioned one.

next hypothesis forecast: probably two months later.

chambre de chassé

feed the beast,
it grows.

too easy,
to lose.

thoughts,
they wander.

(my) reflection,
your eyes.

your reticence,
matches mine.

never lingered,
perilous.

strangely attractive -
such mysterious aloofness.

wrapping my head round
this gentle leap,

this unavailing skip
of my own heart beat.

a little more gauche,
a less redolent sonata,

and desire,
the sooner siphoned.

yet, the hardest logic remains.
a third entity to pique my interest -

seriously, genes?
compromised, much?

good thing,
nothing could come out of this.

perhaps then i could afford to be a little more indulgent,
and feed this little beast of mine a little more,

just so i can continue to be amused (at myself, mostly).
after all, there's simply no way i can lose in this.

this fish that dreamt a world away,
surely has no qualms in her most recent imagining.

masks.

masks are but accessories to adorn when facing people who does not matter. pretty useful, i'd say. all the right moves at all the right places.

go ahead and wear a mask. so when you're with people you truly care about, you can simply remove it and reveal your true self.

go ahead and wear a mask. so you won't ever have to change who you essentially are. masks give you the option to hold on to the real 'you' at your core, and at the same time survive the not-so-"real"  world out there.

still think you know me?

some

books of old
legends and the myths
don't see myself upon that list
where'd i wanna go?
not looking for anybody

perhaps fairy tale bliss
something i can turn to
something just like this
someone i can miss

someone just like this.

heaven, bridge, ocean, drops.

"... but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?"

~ robert browning

what if one never actually thought about reaching the heavens to begin with?

what if all one wanted was to build a bridge to link everyone together?

what if all one wanted was to contribute in small, simple, little ways?

what if heaven is so far away one begins to lose sight of everyone and everything she loves?

what if one misses her little corner on earth so very much?

“my life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?”

~ david mitchell

same box.

"after the game, the king and the pawn go into the same box."

6 years on, a new perspective.

there are many games to be played in one's life; some born of our choices, some of circumstances, some inevitable.

some we lose, some we win. some well-played, some less so. but of these games, one thing remains consistent - we learn.

choose each battle carefully - ready the chess pieces - decide the right time to fight them.
fight all battles well; give your best shot in every game, play fair and aboveboard, with wit.

then, regret nothing.

start.

as it was in the beginning,
it is now,
and ever shall be.
world, without end.

the wheel reinvented,
the cycle, repeated.

the dripping,
the reaping,
the mirror.

possibility

one's perception,
another's contraption.

a born contortionist,
conformed by nothing.

boundless,
reach.

walk.

i led a fine steed across the fields.
i thought, perhaps if i gave it a little more time,
it would reach its full potential.

tired of trudging, pulling it along,
at last i stopped.
as the dust settled from around us.

i stood and watched, thinking.

perhaps my sight has been set too far,
and my hopes, too high,
a marathon, not a sprint, i kept telling myself.

but i keep losing my grip on the lead rope.
maybe i should walk instead, on my own.

sky thief

walking between the raindrops
riding the aftershock beside you
off into the sunset
living like there's nothing left to lose
chasing after gold mines
crossing the fine lines we knew

hold on and take a breath
i'll be here every step
walking between the raindrops with you

will you, still?

wonder why you came to mind during the movie... despite knowing the impossibility of it all. if our paths had crossed earlier, would things be different then, sky thief? would you still be you, and me, me?

love. a dissection

“to love at all is to be vulnerable. love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. if you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. but in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. it will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. to love is to be vulnerable.”

'love', best summed up by C.S. Lewis.

the 10th year, 12 days late.

a voltex of kindred spirits,

an old soul by the window.

the yellowed willow billowed -

a serenade by the canary.

in her mind palace an empty throne sat.

time slowed, eyes closed,

zugzwang

the selection - a thought.

the selection novella.

despite its predictability and typicality, kiera cass accurately illuminated the hopes of (i dare say 90%, if not all) ladies when it comes to the notion of love.

its protagonists, america singer and eadlyn schreave, both expressed characteristic traits that are highly relatable by majority of the female gender in my generation especially - independent, thinking, afraid of getting hurt, and enjoy our freedom a little too much to settle for the fleeting notion of 'love'.

while both protagonists did not exactly consciously look for 'love', they somehow managed to stumble upon it under a series of unbelievably coincidental circumstances. afterall, if a guy of maxon schreave's calibre were to turn up in my life one day, confessing his unconditional love for me for simply being who i am, and not bat an eyelid to take a bullet for me - i'm certain there's no way i will be able to resist his charm.

here's the catch though - neither 'the selection' nor 'maxon schreave' exist in real life - and i am well aware of this. perhaps for me, at the end of the day, i'm just waiting for someone to remind me of this song by chantal:

"somethin' in your eyes, makes me wanna lose myself
makes me wanna lose myself, in your arms
there's somethin' in your voice, makes my heart beat fast
hope this feeling lasts, the rest of my life

if you knew how lonely my life has been
and how long i've been so alone
and if you knew how i wanted someone to come along
and change my life the way you've done

it feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
it feels like i'm all the way back where i come from
it feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
it feels like i'm all the way back where i belong

a window breaks, down a long, dark street
and a siren wails in the night
but i'm alright, 'cause i have you here with me
and i can almost see, through the dark there is light

well, if you knew how much this moment means to me
and how long i've waited for your touch
and if you knew how happy you are making me
i never thought that i'd love anyone so much

it feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
it feels like i'm all the way the back where i come from
it feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
it feels like i'm all the way back where i belong
it feels like i'm all the way back where i belong"

and if one day he ever decides to appear in my life, i hope for two things - that i will at least notice his presence, and maybe, just maybe, be brave enough to jump.