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Memory Keeper

0 comments Posted by muse at Thursday, January 27, 2011

We all have our own assigned memory keeper.


The journal.
The diary.
The confidante.
That box of nostalgic objects stored and stashed in the most insignificant places.
The photo albums.

Mine is in my itunes. Each song with their lyrics are my own story to tell in someway. I like how each stringed notes evoke a different memory and emotion each time they are played.

I feel like a bars of Mars earlier. Of Snickers. I was staring into space at "Beautiful Mess"by Mraz earlier. Sipped tea and wished I had a field with kites to sit in with my book. But am trapped somewhere in the towering concrete jungle with no desirable timing to embark on a quest to find a park.

At 5pm in Sunway, you need a certain degree of patience and foolishness to head out road-tripping. Because you know all you will get is this notorious massive carpark jam. All the Mars bars and Snickers couldn't save your temper.

Hmmm. Mars baars.....Snicckerss.....
Now I wish I carry my Mr simms jellybeans around.
Roar.

 

Catharsis

0 comments Posted by muse at Thursday, January 27, 2011


Sun kisses the earth
And the leaves held on the urge to reach
But the finger we already coming forth,
Plucking the dew-dropped fronds from the ground.
And who to hear out the silent screams but her alone.

Friday Friday Friday
The alarm barely woke this dreary mind and yet it has been rudely awaken.
We were all running away away again this time.
The murderers and mercenaries and zombies and monsters.
None could catch up no matter how close they came by
Even if she could feel their breath down her nape,
They couldn't catch her.

And there, she'll be forever on her feet,
Wheeling on dirts and stairs and puddles.
Who's the masquerade behind the facade her fear?
Who's to say when this dreams were coming?
Who's will wake her from the sleeps?

The music played low,
Soothing in its own domain
Pulling all the sinewy thoughts and drained limbs back home.
The lids open back into the darkness
But we couldn't see the difference in both the worlds.
We wonder we wonder,
Timelessly
Aimlessly
Frivolously

That maybe, she's trying to break free, away from her.

 

DC_0816

0 comments Posted by muse at Monday, January 24, 2011


Her hair was long. Her hug was tight. Her cheeks were full and her smile was big. It was a camaraderie in the oddest of places.


For amongst the drips and white linen sheets, there were laughter. Loud bellowing laughters from all of us. The crowd were rowdy. The music too loud, but the nurses and patients were oblivious.

No death gloom nor the smell of antiseptics can dampen our party spirit. Party was the word I chose because we were really partying. There was alcohol and streamers and music. We were dancing and screaming and laughing. She may be on her bed, upstairs in the ward but I can feel her humming along the bass beats and tapping her finger along the bed railings. I don't remember the words you said to me, but I remember you saying it.

I hope you're telling me you are happy, cause that was the way the dream made me felt.
Funny, how we manage to meet again this way.
We miss you so.

 

Twenty-eleven

0 comments Posted by muse at Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Hey.

The new calendar year has moved in along with the cold Artic wind. But the last days in December is already feeling archaic. Or is it just the time lapse of the dreading heart? But what was there to dread at the start of another 2011?

Another 2011... Pfft! Like I've been there once upon in the past. Perhaps, somewhere in the corner of my mind, I had conjured up 2011 once. And having to relive it on real grounds seems a tad too disappointing.

I helped myself to ample time of sleep and what if's and pointless poignant thoughts. I relish in the idea of an addition . I believe in the turn of times. I planned a thousand falls and one happy ending.

But all I get was the many ways I'm shredded down to the barest elements. The many windows lifting up the shed tears rolling down the cheeks in bed. I remember not wanting that hug. I remember running away. I don't recall the times I actually wanted something.

Because the only thing I remember was how all this would end.

The year had already ticked solemnly. The smiles faded as fast as it was formed. The loss of a familiar face. The sudden truth of how fragile and how unexpected one life is demanding a whole chunk of gaping void inside this numbskull of mine. The tears couldn't had formed for it was illegal. The silent mourn was acceptable. But who am I to say its okay to cry and that she would be released from her sufferings? That perhaps she wanted more to life than to rot away in the ground? I know I would want that.

But would you rather give up? Is dying something you should accept or fight for? When do we stop fighting? When do we not fight and not deny? Funny how I am ranting when even he put up the bravest front and smile chin up. I feel most undeserving for the tears I did not held back.

Lost one. Losing one.

I don't know if I'm running away once more but it sure feels like it. I do wanna love you. I do wanna try. But I can't even remember why and where and when. I don't even know how I ended up back to 2009. I don't remember your face or your voice or how it feels to have you beside.

And we begin another year with failing discipline and rain clouds. How morbid and distasteful can I get.

Roar.

 

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