Some Thoughts That Came at Once

Feels like the a story

you might write for yourself

Minus the dramatic mumbo jumbo
It's where love, the true kind, comes in silence
that looks like an old friend
None of that love-at-first-sight crap
sweep-you-off-your-feet nonsense
the kind that comes along
lace through your fingers
take you for a walk
long enough for you to realize that
this is what you've been holding
your breath for
and closed your eyes
in knowing anticipation
it's natural like finding an old self
so familiar it's almost taken for granted of
until you realize that it is
what you see, feel and breath with
like the step that comes before this
and must come after
no dramatic climax
absent are the tragic endings
the happily-ever-afters
just that resounding satisfaction
of having touched it
that it is yours
just that once.

Duran Duran says : 'I come undone'...

I hesitate to write about my life here for fear of it sounding 'kebaratan' and myself coming off like a 'mat-salleh'-wannabe (I really am not).

I hesitate to write about my efforts to preserve my Malay heritage for fear of sounding desperate to hold on to my roots and failing miserably at it.

I hesitate to write about myself at all for fear of coming off like a chronic narcissist.

I hesitate to write about the things that I like to do - cooking, gardening, crafting - for fear of coming off like the stereotyped housewife-blogger.

I hesitate to write about the things that I miss about Malaysia for fear of sounding like I'm reinforcing the fact that I am overseas - perceived by many back home as a luxury but is really quite the contrary.

I hesitate to write about my true feelings for fear of sounding weak/pathetic/sick/desperate.

I hesitate to write about religion for fear of sounding like an extremist - I've seen other people's take on Islam and to voice mine would definitely make me come off like an extremist when I'm simply being a Muslim.

I hesitate to write about my dreams and goals for fear of them never coming true.

I hesitate to write about serious issues for fear of sounding like pseudo-whatever.

I hesitate to write about the things I cherish for fear of sounding like a braggart (maybe on some subconscious level I AM bragging).

I hate exposing my insecurities but I feel it is necessary since they are some of the things that are clouding my brain. I read somewhere in O that it's good to put things on paper what you can fully understand. A good spring clean might prove to be just the psychotherapy I need....hopefully.

Mother Nature's Got an Apetite!

Monday Night's REM display

Reporter jabs his mic in my chest
'Do you care?' he asks
'Specifically about what?' I say
He jabs the mic into my chest
I took a step back
and fell into the sea below
Since the water was muddy
I thought it right to follow the current
My friend the whale finally swam by
He had a card that said he's my twin
I asked him 'How do you know?'
He said he didn't
But I might be too big for him to swallow
The only way for us all to know
is for him to let me go
and watch me grow
'If I do that, will you come back
and tell me "I told you so?"'
I told him I would
He gave me a ride back to the cliff
I climbed up into the news conference
Reporter jabs his mic again
'Do you care?' he asks
I don't know if I care
I might try to find out
if I care to find out
but now I have an appointment
with my friend the whale
the twin that gave me a ride to the cliffs

yours truly,
Lily the dilated pupil

2a.m. Biology Quickie on Aviants

The brown-specked bird I saw bobbing around our backyard yesterday is the song sparrow. The red-breasted one perched on the big silver maple in front of our living room window is called an American robin. The pairs of geese we see more and more often since the receding of winter is know simply as Canadian geese.

I know this due to a relic left in our house by it's previous owner. It's a wall clock with a native bird adorning each hour.

I remember the birds' names because of the ten-minute transition period I give myself upon waking up in the mornings during which I stare at the clock, count the seconds (and memorise the birds' names) and pull myself fully out of sleep.

I am not a bird watche. It's not an activity that's entirely pointless, but the point to doing isn't entirely justifiable to me. But then, the same could be said about watching t.v. so perhaps I should give it a try. Bird watching, that is. I'm already a master at t.v. watching.

Care to join me, anyone?

You, Me and An Eternity

I nervously drummed my fingers on my glass of cold water. The television blared at an annoying loudness while the weight of the heavy silence hung between us.

I realized I had started shaking my left foot. Out of nervousness perhaps? Then I noticed that his left foot was also wagging like a dog's tail. Was I subconciously immitating him or is it the other way around?

Such is the conundrum.

Anything I might venture to say will be infected by the awkwardness that this silence has become. There is no possible way to assume an air of normalcy once the period of awkward silence has imposed itself on our nervous presence.

I should not have let it begun in the first place, this awkward silence. The trick is to keep up an exchange, however banal or pointless, prosaic or preposterous.

I was going to comment on the way the great angasana tree in the yard was listing abnormally towards the house but I decided not to. I thought I might sound desperate for a conversation.

What a mistake that was. Now I really AM desperate to chat.

Write, for the love of God, Write!

Must start writing again.

Too many

internal conversations

clouding my thoughts.

Must put them into words

before they cause

further speech impediment.