Sister

Music:Say it isn't so - Stacey Kent
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOBTDjs8ix8
Time:11:38 pm

Sister holding my hand.

Sister rubbing my back.

Sister making my lunch.
Sister singing, sister dancing.

Sister growing up.

Sister getting a boyfriend.

Sister changing her name.

Sister crying, sister in pain.

Sister laughing, new again.

Sister as a mum.

Sister as a friend.

Sister, sister.

"Have Faith and Thou Shall be Granted with Eternal Bliss."

Music: Love Sex Magic - Ciara & Justin Timberlake
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=raB8z_tXq7A

Time:11:29 am
I stare up at the cream ceiling, its paint peeling off at the edges, the perfect canvas for all the porn I project onto it before sleeping each night.  Yesterday I fell asleep before I could remember to put my hands inside my pants. The lights and shades playing on  the back of my closed eyelids made it as if I was on ecstasy, and I fantasized about my hot cousins one by one until sleep took over.  Sean walked into my room greeted with silent bodies making love, fucking to be more exact.
He climbed into bed with me and finished my whole damn collection, ending up as horny as hell.  He tried to wake me up by poking his knee in my bum, but I got annoyed in my sleep and according to him, I threw my alarm clock in his face.  I think he might be right, because my clock was nowhere to be seen this morning. But maybe he threw it out the window on purpose just to piss me off, so that I would be late for class and fuck him in the morning.

Mum called in the afternoon:
"Sweetheart, you have to come home this weekend, it's your sister's birthday and it wouldn't be the same without her big brother."
"Mum, she hates me."
"But I love you. So be there."

Itchy

Music: If I Ever Get Around To Living  - John Mayer
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytB-y0qgOKg
Time: 1:23 am
Writing when you're slightly tipsy is fun.
The keyboard jumps up to meet the tip of your fingers.  You are numb and dumb and too slow for the mosquitoes biting and sucking the fresh young blood off your over-excited circulation.
And your head bobs to the beat of John Mayer.....oh here comes the solo. Listen.
Doo-dododum-dodum-dodoludoo....
Restless tonight. Some image I want to wave away but it sticks like a fly to honey.
I am itching all over because of the damned mosquito, and I can't see a fucking thing because the sneaky thing is too quick for me.

I hang upside down in this twisted universe, holding out my bare arms and an upturned thumb, in the hope of hitchhiking into your heart. It's hard. Everybody zooms by without noticing my bright smile and they don't notice the fierce sun is burning me, lighting up my hair and other hairy parts. Flames engulf me and I scream.  A destiny is shown and I walk it proud.  You welcome me with open arms at check-point but I avoid you because I know you don't mean it. Nothing comes easy, and if this is the only thing I learnt from life, it is that I am born alone, and I will die alone.

The Departure

Music:Breath Me - Sia (cover by Juliette Valduriez)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7RJA4RxhaGk
Time:10:44pm

His eyes, soft and sad, caress her hair, her tightened lips, the very tip of her chin.
So beautiful, I'm going to remember every inch of you.
Pulling her close in one swift motion, he wraps her completely in him. But she lies like a dead flower, cold and motionless. His fingers entwine blindly around hers, repeatingly squeezing and releasing the the the fleshy part of her palms, pumping love and despair.
Closing his eyes, he searches for her lips in the dark. They are met tense, withdrawn, but a tenderness pervades. He pushes his lips against the the remaining softness, parting them with his own and breathing into her. At first he feels nothing but the reaction force coming from his efforts, but slowly he notices her little by little.  She was coming back to me.
Moistened by hot, gushing tears, a flame rekindles and bursts into a dangerous burning blaze.  Their mouths almost mold into one as he could not tell where the beginning ended.  Their lips clutch to each other as if space could kill. He has his eyes closed so the world is dark. But light burst from his heart, almost ripping from it.  There was hope.

What Gives Life

Music:Chopin Nocturne Op.9 No.2 —Arthur Rubinstein
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGRO05WcNDk
Time:1:11am

  Her thin hair whipping in the fierce wind.  Slicing the surrounding air in halves and quarters, the pieces falling soundlessly away as if a vacuum in a new space dimension had suddenly manifested itself in one of the nearby red-bricked walls.  She tucks her hair in one loose bun, and the wind, disappointed to have lost her playmate, compose a long sad howl and gradually let it fade into a whisper.  The trees listen. Toes tucked into the grass, she runs her long delicate fingers over the bark of one tall dark pine. It almost shivers at her touch, with curiosity, anxiety, and the unmistakable ingredient of fear.

"Love me." The tree pleads.
"I will love you in a way you will never understand." She replies.

The Wedding

Music: So young—The Corrs

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzLTf69vQos

Time:22:17

Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiles nervously at the pale girl, and is glad when she smiles back.  

Today's the day.

She twirls at her golden curls, so full and so ready.
Ready for what? For cushioning the rest of her life, her head next to his?
She is nervous, and tugging almost violently at her hair now.

But then outside the sun shifts in the comfort of his clouds, allowing a peek a golden ray seep out, it penetrates through her open window.  Feeling the glowing warmth on the the back of her bare neck, the girl closes her eyes, enjoying this quiet moment of blessing.
In the back of her mind, a wild rush of passion, as if tipped over by a careless waitress, spills and colours inch by inch the carpet of her tranquil spirit. Too warm, tiny beads of sweat glisten on her pearl smooth shoulder blades, forming a soft illusion of crystalled wings.    

A little white bird was composing the most delicate song, delivering with all his heart, he sang until his heart broke.  People who heard shed tears and felt genuinely sorry.

The song was made for the girl, an invitation.

The girl spread those wings and flew.

Romance as a Foreign Concept

Music: The look of Love — Diana Krall
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yr8xDSPjII8
Time:10:28am

Painted with a soft dash of warm cream, wings as crisp and fragile like honey burnt paper. Flirting with the wind, the promiscuous butterflies flutter passionately around each other.
Nearby, a soft-eyed brown bitch sniffs by, followed by four furry balls of yelping pups.  The greet each other like old friends every two seconds. Tiny tongues face wash. A stumbling childhood.
Their mother stares at the human stranger, human stranger stares at her swollen teats.
**********************************************************************


"Where is the love of my life?"

"He's out there somewhere."

"He's an asshole."

"I love him."

"Yes?"

"No."



Love exists, but just not here.

To War

Music: I wanna go - Summer Heart
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y2ujWvQ60fI
Time:22:34

Rain
Rain, single and lukewarm, in short and wide time spaces come rushing down. Or rather, seeing the face of earth rush up to them in one dark blur (it was during night time.) Then before they knew it — the pavement hits them, umbrellas crashing into, the greasy skins of the tired Taiwanese people breaking them into a million droplets.
The first troop sacrificed gloriously, their clear blood flowing underground, to the river, and finally slipping quietly into the dark and ominous Pacific.

Noodles
I looked dubiously at the greasy, brown stained grey pot the woman was holding. She carelessly dipped a dirty spoon in a big tin of unknown content, and withdrew a clump of half solid brown slush of what seemed like the beginning of my nightmare. Dumping it inside the pot, she then went on to add oil, salt, and a pinch of very dead looking spring onion.  Batting it all together with one quick spur of intensity, she made the sauce of my noodles in less than 2 seconds.  The noodles, boiling away innocently in their strainers, had no idea the cruel fate that awaits them in that dark evil pot.