cheek

de silva

dilbertinpink aka guilty pleasure

foo

sopi

suet

the premiership

wild man

life

religion

art

what kind of pain is this? it doesn't sting, it throbs in every limb and every organ.

so wholesome, this pain.

what kind of emptiness is this? there is less and less in my cup, when i try to fill it up.

so stubborn, this emptiness.

where can a shadow run away to? it is only there where is light. in the dark, the shadow fades away into other shadows. tonight, the great dark shadow orgy!

about time you grew up, son.

let's end on a wish! i wish my heart didn't fall into my gut, every time i think of you.

wishful thinking come from the same spring as self pity.

ENOUGH. just stop feeling like such a vagina, and more importantly, stop doing such stupid things.

start taking care of your family you sonafabitch.

this is the story about a few lessons i learnt when i was thirteen years old. i was the ketua tingkatan of my class, and our class was shared between us, who were in the afternoon session, and some form 4 students, who were in the morning session.

the class was being scrutinized for being dirty, and so arose the issue; who was responsible for it?

a system was developed: at the beginning of each session, the ketua tingkatans would write a report on how clean the class was. on day one of the reporting roll out, i pretty much reported every ridiculous trivial dirty detail; fans were dirty, some chairs were placed 'properly' under desks, and et cetera and et cetera and et cetera.

the evening came and went, the next morning said 'hallo!' and dissapeared, and suddenly it was the end of my afternoon session classes. as i was leaving the classroom, the class teacher from the morning session

in my mind; "what the fuck, she's been here all day?"

anyways, she walks up to me, and tells me to look in my classroom, and points out in fifteen thousand ways how the class looks a LOT worse than how it does when we show up to class. she tells me that if she made a complaint, we'd get fucked, because we're kids, so i should never pull shit like that ever again.

lesson one: noob enthusiasm versus genuine enthusiasm. there is a difference, and knowing it could save your life.

lesson two: don't point out to others faults that exist in yourself. you'll just come off as being a dumbass.

a day, and soon, weeks
recipe one; potatoes and leeks.

midnight in the garden with you
the trees bending under the weight of
lush leaves of many greens
bespeckled with silver moonbeams

a touch, a thrust, the sin of lust
a child is buried beneath
lush leaves of many greens
bespeckled with silver moonbeams

mother dearest, oh pray for me
her gravest crime was curtained with
lush leaves of many greens
bespeckled with silver moonbeams

goodbye, for now. for now, goodbye!
we loved, lived and died for the promise of
lush leaves of many greens
bespeckled with silver moonbeams

there is an imagined sanctity that is attained in self depravation.
a belief that a good spirit will fill up the void created with sacrifice.
open spaces attract all sorts of characters.
i tell you solemnly: beware the bad, for evil works in equally mysterious ways.
i believe in the bad, not for the sake of duality, but because pessimism is rewarded more often than optimism.

the good, the bad and the ugly; me. the trimurthi of maya, the gross ménage a trois of this life, and the next.
(and the next, and the next, and the next...)
constantly fucking each other.
mostly me.