Saturday, January 22, 2005 

insomnia | gosh look at the time

440am
saturday 22 jan 2005

[ by the dim light of the gogglebox i get up from my bed to write.
by the aching strains of japanese R&B i recall the loneliness of watching initial D 10,000 miles away, a stranger to the outside.
by standing between two recent songs, lee hom's forever love and tao zhe's 愛我還是他 [who do you love], i'm amused by their contrast.
this time last year, what did i yearn for?
this time next year, what will i hold onto?
i know the answer.
but do we really dream in black & white?
my random perspectives only soak up sorrow and-some peace. ]
- lx c.

07:15 | |

 

nameless again [do you see a pattern emerging]

[ fine, clear glass window.
rainedrops racing down,
different speeds,
quick successions,
collecting into the
stone streets of Orchard Road
below.
heavy but fine downpour
of heaven's tears,
a cool night,
no lack of solitude.
two lovers drift by,
hoping to catch the
same glimpse i have.
of raine, crowded streets,
and the smell of Christmas
beckoning.
same time, a year ago,
what did i hope for?
same time, a year from now,
what will i be holding on to?
no lack of solitude,
and love.
the misty window,
stained by rainedrops
forever etched into my memory
my consciousness
my hope. ]
-lx c.
2113hours|18nov2002
cineleisure

07:06 | |

 

nameless

[ i take off my glasses
from my tired eyes
that blink to ease
out the tears that
revive a once broken desert.

i turn on the radio
as i drive down
that lonely road,
dark and cosy,
hues of grey & brown
shades of black shadows
fading into the tree-lined
sidewalks of suburban America.

the sounds of old jazz
plug into my ears
reminding me of everything
melancholic and mellow.
frost on my rear window glistens
as car headlights swallow into
my tired eyes;
i feel also the aching of
a yearning heart.

cold leather seats,
driving alone, the wailing
of miles davis'
a'round midnight, as it
dawns on me that this
is bliss.
down that wet street in
Chicago i go;
i do not want to get out while the song plays.

i leave the engine running a
little longer,
the color of jazz breathing
life into my cold heart,
as i wait for eternity
to arrive.
and then, i cease to be.
blink. ]
-lx c.
eighthhourfortyeighthminute, nvmbr|eighteen|twothousandandtwo
a taro turnover @ cineleisure orchard

06:48 | |

Wednesday, January 19, 2005 

s!lence

for a while i was thinking if i should publish some of my past words here, or remain in private a trancient recluse. i decided there is no point in writing stuff that people won't read on any given day, or even make sense out of; but there is a good certain silence that comes from reading words that may provide some remedy for one's heart. even if it were only for my own one's heart to seek refuge.

i was in high school grade nine, the year is nineteenninetyseven, prolly in the late summer/fall. i write:
[ it is late. the rain falls softly, and a single lamp shines through the darkness. the silhouettes of the trees dancing to the wind. for once, the peace of night brings pleasure to the heart, and healing to the soul.
on such a night, a solitary face peers out of a window, awake when all is asleep. he hears the rain, but cannot see it; he notices the single lamp all by itself, and looks around for other lamps, but they're all distant. this face, with blind eyes and deaf ears, watches the night sky for stars, but is received with only the shroud of the clouds. the moon is nowhere to be seen.
disappointed, the face expresses a pensive visage, a countenance full of thought. he looks into the expanse--wondering, pondering, remembering. tranquility does not calm the heart of pain, and does not ease the loneliness, the frustration, and the restlessness.
it is late. the rain patters silently, almost to a stop. the lamp ceases to shine, and the solitary face is greeted with shadows in the deafening silence. ]
-lx c.

03:11 | |

Sunday, January 16, 2005 

Learning to Breathe

| Hello, good morning, how You do?
What makes Your risin' sun so new?
I could use a fresh beginning too
All of my regrets are nothing new
So this is a way, that I say I need You
This is a way

That I'm learning to breathe
I'm learning to crawl
I'm finding that You and You alone can break my fall
I'm living again, awake and alive
I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies

Hello, good morning, how You been?
Yesterday left my head kicked in
I never, never thought that
I would fall like that
Never knew that I could hurt this bad

This is a way that I say I need You
This is a way that I say I love You
This is a way that I say I'm Yours
This is a way

That I'm learning to breathe
I'm learning to crawl
I'm finding that You and You alone can break my fall
I'm living again, awake and alive
I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies
Yes I'm dying to breathe in
These abundant skies
I'm learning to breathe
I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies
Hello, good morning, how You do?
How You do?
[ I'm dyin' ] |
-paraphrased from Switchfoot's Learning to Breathe

22:58 | |

Saturday, January 15, 2005 

one year

post number one.
it's been, one year approx since my return to singapore.
january 21 i believe.
still working out this blogging notion, so i won't trouble your eyes and mind with my inane prose and let you enjoy the emptiness of black.
[fade]

04:48 | |

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