Crash

Music: Kelly Kelly Clarkson - Where is your heart 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_s7RKf4tLQA

 Time: 10:00 pm

How ridiculous is it, that a heart can flip moods like an expert cook with steak.

I treat my symptoms with verbal therapy. I heal myself with a spoken truth.  Like a child softly murmuring and then carefully but clearly articulating new sounds.  Addressing life's problems in the face. 

Come again a neon blue. The blunt stabs denting the walls of my sanity.

Make stronger.

Mask

Music: Radiohead - No Surprises

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5CVsCnxyXg

Time: 21:02

  I quickly transform my face into lines of rigidness.  It's quite a clever mask and most times I'm quite proud of it.  But lately I've begun to fear the mask is taking over, and the delicate parts of my face can not tell when the act is over, and stays contracted.  I massage them with the tip of my fingertips.  Clockwise, then anticlockwise.
  I go about my daily business with a blue sky capped above my head, a true bliss considering where I come from.  I imagine Taipei gloomy, with its grey population trudging about. And here I walk with my water bottle, temperature cool and giving away to the surrounding heat. I walk back and forth between my office chair and the conference room.  That's where I refill the my water bottle.  The water enters my bottle in a steady flow but my mind is a blank flow. I peer out like an aging prisoner sentenced to love.

I never look forward to you.

Music: TINA MAY & NIKKI ILES - Change Of Sky
 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQnY4F_RtXM

Mad and tired. derit dna daM. If there was no bubble to begin with why does she feel like as if the bubble's burst?  Then one feels so ridiculously foolish because she knew, she knew that feelings were not trustworthy.  Of hers or anyone's.

Shallow music enter ears of regret.  Never once have they fallen together in the whirlpool of gold at rainbow's end. A dip or two, she says guiltily, I only splashed about a bit, nothing serious. But she wrings her hands as she vomits up ribbons of lies.

I never look forward to you.

Let us mourn without music.

Time: No Time

The immediate dash of pain as it sears through my hanging hope of freedom from a simple weekend.
A simple two day weekend.
Gone! Gone like the wind!
Gone as swift as a young antelope would charge down a golden autumn hill.
Crushing the dry leaves into a million dead pieces as he goes.

people that make me angry.

Music: Natalia Kartashova plays Liszt - La Campanella
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&v=QihpVhJ-yUU&NR=1
Time: 5:50 pm

Anger bubbles up and hit her contracting throat. Rude obnoxious stuck up twigs for legs, she curses under her breath. She presses the crisp white sheets in halves and then in quarters. Fingers trembling slightly as heat of fury hiss out at the tip of her clear cut fingernails.  Tucking in the sides of the sheets with small tugs and presses, she cap seals newly made beds into tomb like tents of white.
That's you dead for infuriating me. You, you, and you.

I would hang you by the hair on the steep cliff of Cape Canaille. The salt wind would whip you silly. Nobody would hear your screams.  There is nothing gentle about the Mediterranean when a  punishment is sought.

Very Precious

Music: Lose Yourself to Dance - Dafttpunk
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TBXv37PFcAQ

Time: 4:20pm

Strewn like beads of silky pearls across the neck of a blue universe. Thoughts treasured like precious stones lining the peripheral of thy mind.  My breath echoes off your skin in soft thunders. Entwined from the roots of our minds an inspiration takes a double take to flow.

Awakening.
In the very lovely minutes of my time, I dress my breasts, my thighs, my feet and my fluttering spirit. Everything is in flowers and petals. A scented spray of thick cotton candy. If I tread a pebbled path of the unknown I make Spring follow.  This was the idea.  This was the idea all along.

So I skip along the shrubberies of my everyday life with exaggerated gaiety, blossoming joy like a fertile rabbit. Pretty flowers I bend down to pick, and they delicately cut my fingers with their delicate thorns.  Pain was a necessity.

Afternoon, in bed with dreams.

Music:Stacey Kent - Hushabye Mountain
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sn6Tol70BjU

Time:3:10 pm

Ripping a delicate purple cloth in half, it tears from the middle. A soft hum lingers in the afternoon air as bees of lust buzz in the ears of the unfortunate ones. Fresh, like wind rippling over wet grass; gentle, like a single sliding tear of the deep sea mermaid. A blanket of silver stars glimmer in humble delight.
All images crumble into one warm blend of caramel. The back of my eyelids speak time. Slowly I open them like one would with a heavy window. A world of sorrow greets me.
It was something green, something blue, and maybe a touch of pink that floated in and out of focus on the soapy surface of that bright bubble. The bubble you, me, no.... we blew together.