january 2004

k blissfully reminded me that i sang (or croaked... it's up for contention) drops of jupiter on my 21st, swinging on vodka and sprite. so here's a homage to train and some excellent writing once again. sha and my luv, this one's for yous :-)

when it rains, it pours and opens doors
and floods the floors we thought would always keep us safe and dry
and in the midst of sailing ships we sink our lips into the ones we love
that have to say goodbye

and as I float along this ocean
I can feel you like a notion that won’t seem to let me go

cause when I look to the sky something tells me you’re here with me
and you make everything alright
and when I feel like I’m lost something tells me you’re here with me
and I can always find my way when you are here

and every word I didn’t say that caught up in some busy day
and every dance on the kitchen floor we didn’t have before
and every sunset that we’ll miss I’ll wrap them all up in a kiss
and pick you up in all of this when I sail away

and as I float along this ocean
I can feel you like a notion that I hope won't ever leave

whether I am up or down or in or out or just plain overhead
instead it feels like it's impossible to fly
but with you I can spread my wings
to see me over everything that life may send me
when I'm hoping it won’t pass me by

and when I feel like there's no one that will ever know me
there you are to show me

mama misses me. she always does while i'm on shoot. i know this when she starts handing affection in strangulating waves of matronly questions. kau dah makan? pukul braper balik? abeh skarang tenah shoot pat maner? and so on and so forth in similarly phrased capacities. as impatient, tired, petulant and ferociously private daughter, i shoo her away. but she comes back. most mothers eventually do (often to the dismay of affected children).

she's been taken by something these days and so in her prevailing naivety, started developing her own ideas. while it is flattering it is scary, if only because of the pounding constance she invests badgering me about it. i have partly didi to blame. sha, i can hear you titter so shuttup >( my most frequent reply to her (these days our conversations are limited to the door, the phone and my bed) is "ok BYE!", which i try to exploit as much as i can. but she really is cute. annoying. and silly. but cute nonetheless.

i just caught AM for the first time. i'm not sure whether the NYPD was from bahar or M&E, but it sets an excellent pace. i like. perhaps i'll take more pleasure logging now.

baby i started sneezing this morning. my body's insanely resilient during my gigs (although not up in sarawak... their longhouses made my nose sprint), but i'll prolly be wheezing after this ends. thank you for dragging yourself down in that state to hold me. sorry bout your berms. i hope it didn't stain :-P

thoughts for the day:
subtlety is a different ballgame.
different strokes for different folks.
people invent their own realities.

i've only stepped home. i've got to be in again by 9 to log the damn shots, and here i pace. because i've succumbed to some puerile need to be heard (or read, as is the case).

professions of exclusive knowledge are simply that - professions. i have conceded to your pasts and all you've held dear. no, of course i've no place in your boxes of time. but just as i've respected yours, i hope you do mine.

our stories are not dissimilar. do you even know the half of mine? once again, exclusive knowledge. it is everybody's pandora.

george constanza now, as promised. because i prolly won't be here again for a while. enjoy~

"the most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. i mean, life is tough. it takes up a lot of your time. what do you get at the end of it? a death. what's that? a bonus?!? i think the life cycle is backwards.

you should die first, get it out of the way. then you go live in an old age home. you get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension. then, when you start work you get a gold watch on your first day. you work forty years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. you drink alcohol, you party, and you get ready for high school.

you go to primary school, you become a kid. you play. you have no responsibilities. you become a little baby. you go back. you spend your last 9 months floating with luxuries like central heating. spa. room service on tap. then you finish off as an orgasm. amen."

ps - haha! yea baby, unky moods can go to hell. wot a waste of 9,000 "rocking" members. to digress, mama's exciting herself again (no guesses over wot *bleah*). should i worry about her blood pressure? oh wait a minute... my sister's a nurse!

it's odd the way you seem to want to know, and then berate him for his right to privacy. then when nothing satisfies, in desperate bid to salvage the mission good ol' sarcasm enters: stage right.

how about i keep a log of activities? that way, when you call to ask non-personal questions (since there won't be anything personal left to keep for our own), there won't be need to emphasise on individual rights. you know, so you won't have to argue anymore the way you used to when you were together?

what makes pple move? what makes them uproot themselves and leave everything they've ever known for a great unknown beyond the horizon?
answer's the same the world over: pple move in the hope of a better life.
life of pi; yann martel

a few months ago i would've worshipped this, but i've lost something since then. i've resigned to all the greater forces that keep my blood warm. i no longer itch to leave this place. i just long to leave.

this is the year of the monkey. the last it came by was while i was ripe with youth - silly girl crushes and romanticizing "teenhood". my mother had a habit of expressing to strangers how she thought i was too carefree. "happy go lucky" she put it. well mama, do you ask yourself where your girl at 12 is?

she sits alone by a lamp post
tryin to find a thought that's escaped her mind
she says dad's the one i love the most
but Stipe's not far behind
she never lets me in
only tells me when she's been
when she's had too much to drink
i say that i don't care
i jus run my hands through her dark hair
then i pray to God you gotta help me fly away

and jus let her cry
if the tears fall down like rain
let her sing
if it eases all her pain
let her go
let her walk right out on me
and if the sun comes up tomorrow
let her be
ler her be...

this morning i woke up alone
found a note standing by the phone
saying baby,
maybe i'll be back someday
i wanted to look for you
you walked in i didnt know
just wot i should do
so i sat back down and
had a beer and felt sorry for myself
saying

let her cry
if the tears fall down like rain
let her sing
if it eases all her pain
let her go
let her walk right out on me
and if the sun comes up tomorrow
let her be
ler her be...

last night i tried to leave
cried so much i cannot believe
she was the same girl i fell in love with long ago
she went in the back to get high
i sat down on my couch and cried, yelling
oh mama, please help me...
won't you hold my hand and

let her cry
if the tears fall down like rain
let her sing if it eases all her pain
let her go
let her walk right out on me
and if the sun comes up tomorrow
let her be
ler her be...

it hurts that everything's changed. why do you insist to prolong your pain? all that's been me and about me have left. i am empty. and lifeless. and everyday i ache for home.

i am a destructive force. i am contained in four walls of my own anger, and then i implode. which is when it all begins. again. and i push away all who's ever loved me, all who's ever cared. i cannot apologise enough, because i know how much i've hurt you.

i've only had 5 hours repose, but i'm dandy. why can't i wake with such ease when it's time for work? my packs aren't lasting me 3 days anymore. my sticks are scant by the time we're back in office. but it's one of the subtle joys of shoots. all that stress makes the shittiest rolls of nicotine taste like a little slice of heaven.

i should place you baby, on a conveyor and run you through parts maintanence. the speed with which your body's unscrewing itself is almost alarming. keep those ankles warm.

i was robbed of any semblance of progressive online space when my (jurassic) metal box expired on time. she does this once every two years, so i am left to other devices. excuse the vacuum.

morpheus romances me. he has been since 6 this morning. it's been more than 24 hours now, since our last. i need to relent. but i owe this space.

didi's engagement (or wot remains of it in sluggish memory) was fun. interjections from animated relations are phrased as follows (and enunciated likewise):
e'eeeehhhh
a) lawa
b) jambu
nyer diaaaaa... macam
a) ziana zaaaain!!
b) erra faziraaaaa!!
c) sitiiiiii!!

as dutiful bestfriend, i lent her my show of moral support (for embarassment at having been associated with any/all such figures) by way of grins, snickers and one-liners (i emphasised the latters). she was not allowed to display middle fingers of either hand. you can see now why it was fun. for me.

unky moods aren't in business yet this year. 9,000 mood-less members. wot ever shall we do?

sha has jason alexander, pinned to her cubicle in all of george's splendour, ranting about the biggest absurdity of life. i am tempted to run it through here, except it all swims in my head. and regurgitating it from moony memory (esp MY moony mem) is supreme injustice to some very excellent writing. so. i shall waltz in next monday, un-pin, xerox, re-pin, sweep home and promptly reproduce it here.

babes, at the end of the day there are parts of you that will hanker for skin, and smell, and arms, legs, lips. i know how ridiculously near you are to swearing off babies (of the gurgling kind), but i DO know you are surely farther from that (point) than as you would've been if taufik hadn't chanced (cheh chanced eh? cam budak tuh accident gitu ekhehkekhe). my point is this: relationships = love = companionship = company = ?

? being time. inevitability, whichever the inevitable may be. you gotta stop thinking about surviving the relationship, and start thinking about how you survive it. stop treating relationships as something altogether separate from everything else, because it's really all the same. everything needs a f.o.c.u.s.