It's time for the update that I don't quite feel like giving

so I just
won't.

The tail end of yesterday(it might have started in the lift ride up), spilling over into today, was a bit odd.
I couldn't quite place it, couldn't say for certain where or when it started, why or how.
I had no idea what it was that was bothering me, but it was there, bugging me half mad.

It's not over and done with, mind you.
I haven't managed to place it, and personally, I am one who believes that's the only way to make this feeling go away.
However, I am feeling considerably better, since my two-hour blade at East Coast Park with Bird.
And, after getting dropped off close to home and bus-ing it half way, I bladed around for an extra bit, just because. I quite liked it.


It's the first night without Mommy. Well, technically last night was the first night but then, The Little Creature still had dins with her.
SO, it's the first night without Mommy and I have decided to cook for us both.

Lets see what atrocities I will whip up this time(:

politics

I don't understand people sometimes,
and I wish we didn't all make things out to be so bloody complex.

If you like something, stay and put your all into it.
If you don't, then leave.
If you need to stay even though you don't want to, then suck it up. But don't go round snipping at the threads that've held everyone else together.


There are some genuinely nice people around.
Some people who go all out to do what they think is best, who in the very least, try to be good people, who give and give and give.
People like that, who manage to do all that, but still guard themselves and choose the sort of people they'd like to be around,
they don't deserve to have you turn on them.
They don't deserve to have the carpet ripped out, and then find out it's been a long time coming.


Cuppycakes don't solve everything, and I always wish there was more I could do, while staying behind the safety of the yellow line. I don't know what to expect tomorrow, and there's an itch from a spot I cannot place.
We'll see how it goes.
We will.

And then I'll blade until my legs give out.

The tiniest bit nostalgic

we can't always be prepared for the rain, but when it comes,
we ought to remember how to dance in it

Pasir Ris smells like Mondays, like sun, like picnics.
Feels like the beach, like early mornings when I should've been at school, like the only thing I can hold on to.
Corners that my body remembers to turn at, pavements that my feet find familiar.
The air tastes like breakfasts, like good starts, like waking up.

Pasir Ris rings with memories, echoes with the sound of my growing up, fills me with the ache of a phantom limb. It sings with the crunch of dried leaves underfoot, the quietness of the roads, the sound of marbles dropping against the floor.

It wraps me in familiarity, or it used to, until very recently- Thanks to the "upgrades", the "improvements", the destruction of what I now only have in pictures that will blur against the plastic of photo albums.

Pasir Ris smells like the cold gust of happiness, the crisp morning air,
the early evenings after the rain.
It feels like everything that I will ever need to walk away from, because of somebody else's decision. Feels like the quiet, during my quietest times. Feels like my toes, curled under blankets, Family-time on Sunday afternoons with fishballs and instant noodles.


I am often hollowed out and empty, searching for answers to questions I haved asked myself over and over again.


Pasir Ris tastes like tears, like the lightest blue that there is, like second chances. It breathes with the creak of swings that haven't been sat on in a while, the stories that I may or may not have told. It cries with the sound of running water, late night walks in the park,
comfort in the middle of a school week.

It washes me over with memories I cannot always remember making, the fear of not being able to let go quick enough, the idea that I am always floating and never quite safely rooted.


Pasir Ris smells like Mondays, like sun, like picnics.
Feels like the beach, like early mornings when I should've been at school, like the only thing I can hold on to.
Breathes with snippets of myself, aches with the knowing of how different things are,
finds its way under my skin and pumps itself into my veins.

And even as I piled into that pickup truck and pulled out of that carpark, I turned to look behind me.
Wondering when I'd be in touch, who would be the first to stop writing letters, and if it will still mean all the same things in just a few years.
And, after nearly four years, I find they still do mean all the same things to me.

Peace, calm, growing up, letting go.
Like journal entries at the end of the day, like tea and shortbread,

like life.

Mondays, they're just the prettiest thing these days

And so,
my Monday consisted of introducing odd-tasting, magic sandwiches to a friend who's decided that the loo in my apartment is within running distance (from wherever she was standing)

It was quite a lovely day, I must say.
Quite lovely indeed.
And Lord I'd do it all over again, because it really was all that nice.I love rain.
Just absolutely love it.
When mommy first realized that, she said (aloud, fortunately or unfortunately) that I ought to have grown up in London. I think I narrowed my eyes at her and said
"Funny that, because I could've sworn I was born preeeeeeeeetty nearby there.

Okay, so if you're all dressed up, hair piled high and in heels that just CANNOT get wet, then rain would be a bit of a bitch.
But on the whole, it's quite nice.
I keep wanting to say, "especially when you're indoors" except it's not true in the least!

Thunderstorms,
they're fantastic when you're curled under the covers together, and talking about nothing.
Or nursing hot mugs of Hot Chocolate.
But they're also quite brilliant, when they catch you completely unaware, and yet it's perfectly fine to get soaked to the skin. And so we do (go get soaked to the skin).
Well, so we did,
and I thought that was just lovely, that time.

Like today.
Like talking, like falling, like curling up, like actually working your brains on a day off!
Like being comfortable, feeling ease slip between your shoulderblades like it's always meant to be there.
Like waking, to a reason to smile.

So I just randomly thought I'd put up an insanely old picture of me to say
HELLO WELLO(:

I picked it because the feel of today was sort of like the feel of that day in the picture.
Except with a hell lot less smokes today, and being indoors. hehehehhe.


And I am happy, truly I am.
So I'd like to take it as it comes as opposed to having my brain upset with too much thought.

formspring.me

I can't promise I won't lie, but I'll give you a good something to read(: http://formspring.me/charisvera

rawr

I would like some order in my life.

I miss Muay Thai terribly, so I will go back to it. That and swimming, and blading, and running now and then (and not from school to school)
Cut out the smokes, and return to the comfy-ness of fish and fruits and fruit juice.
Sugar (in the form of drinks), I will save for the weekends.
I think I've loaded up on enough desserts this last month and a half to last me the rest of the year.

It's taking its toll on me, I swear. And boy, do I feel old saying that.
meow.

I will return to assignments, to flying through them at break neck speed. And there is work, which I feel I should put more heart into.
And there is also Tuesday Tunes, on May 4th,
flea market thingy with Eme and massive blading sessions with Bird, as often as we can before she leaves. Which isn't a long time away.
There are things to pack, things to chuck
and things to write about.

I think I've aaaalmost settled on the font I would like for my major tattoo which I'm getting in just under a month, just needs a bit of artistic input from Moon.

I will move my bed back to its original position eventually, and hope to spend at least my last few months in nice, clean space.

And then, and then, finally,
I will transform into a walrus:D
ORHORH


-------------

So that wasn't me on Incredible Tales, and if you sat through it, I am terribly sorry.
The last I checked, it was supposed to be episode 4, but you never know with these things I suppose.
My eyelids feel drawn to each other. I'm going to pop into the shower and crawl into bed.

There's tomorrow, and tomorrow is a thought to smile at.


xoxo

"They have an entire history," she says,
"And you'll make your own." the best friend replies.
"But there's so much of it, so much of it."


Dear Bird,
I miss you.
I feel like calling you and keeping quiet on the phone while we listen to the sound of each other's typing. While we listen to the sound of us typing to each other on MSN, sometimes.
I feel like being eleven years old again, and sitting at the grandstand with you during recess. And just sitting there, in impossibly comfortable silence- especially for eleven year olds,
and staring out at the field.
At the random girls running, at the ones on the monkey bars, at the girls jumping up and down the steps.
Until the school bell rings and that demonic circus tune plays over the speakers and we find that we have to trudge back and assemble.

Because some of the best conversations I've ever had in my life, have been with you, when we weren't even saying a single thing.

Love,
C.

The swinging doors of real life

How will I tear myself away from you, when it comes time to go.
When the roar of the world drowns out all thought and need and will take one with it-
whether or not we're prepared,
whether or not we want it to.

lifetimes in phases

and oh, she's woven in beautifully, and tightly, with the threads that make up your life.


Overlapping fingerprints in dust that has settled and resettled,
marks on the window pane, from that day you both spent pressed up against it, to startle the neighbours.
You're written in each others diaries, schedule books, marked on each other's calendars that date back a lifetime.

and oh, she's woven in beautifully, and tightly, with the threads that make up your life.

We're nose to nose, lip to lip and I have no idea what she's thinking.
My thoughts are fleeting, but they come back after.
Curl up in a corner like a dozey cat and pretend that they've been there the entire time,
they haven't, not really.

And I don't know about comparisons, of any sort, or their existence. I don't know about lies, whether they're white or not, or even accidental.
I suppose there's always a thing or two that you say because it's the first thing that comes to you, except that after it slips out, you sort of wonder if that was in any way, a little bit of a lie.

Personally, it feels a hell of a lot better to be kept in the dark, to keep the tinted glasses on, to keep the world feeling like it's spinning on a single axis and that, that is all that matters.


It was a lovely day,
But I am tired today. Today I am a mish-mesh of things, a collage of cut outs that are just about as much word association and metaphor as they are literal.
And I, am so brain-drained,
Kirsten's watching me doze and wake in front of her. It's terrible.


I will talk another time.

On my way back home.

Leaving.
Downtown.
San Gabriel.
City Sunset

Random afternoon, that so happens to glow with insane beauty when you randomly step out of the house.





I am excited, as much as I don't seem to show it.
But there're a few things I can't quite seem to put to words.











Yet, no matter how much we can't wait to leave, there's a part of me pushing down on time with the weight of me. Toes trying mightily to clutch at our foundation through the heaviness of re-soled shoes.
--Rebecca Wolf

"Sometimes we're the only ones that matter and that other times, we're tiny compared to the things around us."
She says this, on a carpet of green speckled with brown bits. My shoes, her backpack, my notebook, real life, in a carefully collected pile just out of reach.

And at the time, it's just a tad difficult to see the forest through the trees. Not that i didn't understand of course, it's just that i couldn't link it up with all that might or might not happen.

But then the sprinklers come on, and somewhere between dancing about in it and running off soaked to the skin, we stumble through the swinging doors of real life without even noticing it.

It leaves me a wee bit dazed, and i don't always know where i stand.
But when i look up around me, at the forest i can now see,
I realize, that i am tiny and insignificant compared to everything that's around us.

my breath catching, my fingers- stilled

I love Hong Kong:D
More so in the winter than the summer, but then,
I don't quite remember summers there. I don't know if I've even been.


This is my Godma, Abby.
She's one of those insanely beautiful people who are beautiful because of their personality and just like, everything put together. She's mommy's age, but I guess she doesn't look it because she didn't go through the trauma of childbirth.
hehe
(and don't we love you for it mommy!)

mm, Hong Kong, yummy(:



So today I talked about things I don't usually talk about out loud. It's usually all in my head, and even though it get pretty loud in there, I don't think it's ever been spoken about in detail. Not out loud, not in real life.
It was a bit strange.
And uhm, I don't quite know how to feel about it.
Not just how I feel but what I've said, now that it's been said out loud and how to feel about how I feel, so on and so forth.

I don't quite like realization sometimes. The moment it hits you that, "uh oh, I said what?"
Or that maybe, even though this difference is supposed to be a good thing, the strands of fear that are a lot more familiar than you'd like might just be starting to thread itself under your skin.
And the thought (that doesn't always necessarily lead to realization) that maybe, it's all just what you're making it out to be.
That thought, it kind of tends to make one freeze up, just a little bit.

A lot of things get me a tad confuzzled right now. And I wish I could sort it out better.
But I can't seem to.
All I've ever done is dissect things and put it into words. Clear words that I can bite into and understand. I don't know what's wrong with me but I can't sort anything out in my head these days.
So instead, I'll just waddle off, grab me a malted soy milk and have a night time smoke or three.


Hong Kong awaits:D



Goodnight furry children of the world!

the sound of smiles and the taste of Mondays

Her words, they're just the prettiest things sometimes

And i'm scared of tipping balances

Dear victor,
I hope you're okay.

Love,
Me

the things you hold on too tight to,

they will promise to slip right through your fingers.




I've never understood why some people feel that their lives are all about holding on as tight as they possibly can to all the good things they have, and never letting go.

It's a lie, I say, a lie from the media!
They make people believe that if you don't capture whatever good thing you have going for you, stuff it under your shirt and weigh it down with the weight of yourself,
then it will disappear. That good thing you have going; your job, your relationship with your children, the person who actually did call back the next morning, it will run away and you will feel lost and empty for the rest of your life.


Meh.

I think people need to get used to the idea that nothing will stay put for too long.
Instead of drawing up elaborate plans of how to shackle this good thing to your ankle forever, just sit around and appreciate for Chrissakes.

Maybe that's what my grouse is.
That some people can't seem to appreciate.
Thinking about how someone else is so much more fortunate because they get to live in your favourite chocolate shop while you can only come in on weekends, is not appreciating the time you actually get to spend in the chocolate shop.

We always believe we deserve so much more.
We don't, not really. Hell, we don't even deserve half the nice things that happen to us.

So I think sometimes we need to learn to shut the fuck up,
sit back, breatheand just enjoy it for as long as you get to.

Truth on ceramic tiles

"The way you take a picture of someone is how you truly perceive them."

"Visualize an entire scene, or pick an emotion to feel, and then say this word. The key is to have the audience feel what you feel, see what you see."

Art, it has a way of taking our meanings and interpretations and then pouring out from us and onto the blank piece of whatever it is one has decided to work on. And that is why we feel so close to the things we produce sometimes. Especially the things we didn't necessarily work on, but just slipped out from the tips of our fingers instead.
Songs on napkins, acrylic on canvas, glass paint on ceramic tiles.
Because it's parts of us, that's melted into our work. Bits of our insides, having slipped out, quite by accident, and moulded intself into the piece.

And that's us at our most raw, isn't it?
When we look at the finished piece, take a beat, and then realize that it's saying exactly what we might have been thinking or feeling, without even realizing it.
When a word we don't normally use finds its way out of the lead of the pencil and onto the paper, and we do a double-take, unsure if we're even using the word correctly and then finding out, via dictionary dot com, that the word is most apt.

When we stop thinking and let our soul pour itself out, all on its own.

the long journey home

Time warps are funny, funny things.

The journeys home, aren't very long at all really.
It's surprisingly short sometimes, in fact.
How very odd.


So,
my weekend's been quite lovely so far. I don't mind it at all.


I got caught up reading some old letters that I never sent.
They made me tear up a wee bit, and what scares me is realizing that not a lot's changed, in some parts of my life.
I still feel the same for this person and this person still evokes the same feelings that he always has, in me. The same sense of familiarity, comfortability, the sense of solid ground. The feeling that he's known me forever, and seen the most disgusting days of me. That he is, very simply, my best friend.
It's a bit of a shame in some sense though, because I look back (at the letters, at what has or has not happened) and ask what I'm doing and why I felt, and still do- to some extent, the way I do.
Truth is, I don't know.
Maybe because I believe, and always have, that he is more than these days that he has.
Maybe because I wanted to believe that I get it, that I understand, that it doesn't make me sad.

And everytime these days come around,
all I seem to find to say is, how sorry I am.
That he feels like this, that I don't know how to be there, that I'm not enough, that I am sad, that I feel sad, that I don't get it, that I don't quite understand because if I did then I wouldn't be sad, and oh, I would know just what to do, and I don't.
Even now, I find myself wishing that I did know just what to do.

Still, I don't.




My Sunday afternoons, they've been nice.
It might be the weather or the dessert (what in the world!) or the company or a combination of all of it. None of it's been the same, but they've all been quite nice.



Lets see how long it takes us to get home this time, shall we?

somewhere in my wicked, miserable youth,
I must've done something good.

fidgetfidget INK! fidgetfidget

DAYUM.
This wait/weight/heart rate(?) is killing me. RAWR.
Time to get off my tush, I am suuuuuch a mess of drooling jealousy right now!

I'm teeeeerribly excited, and well, waits always make things worth it I feel.
So no, this doesn't mean I'm going to say, forget it and settle for less.
Oh no no,
when my turn comes, it will come.
And you can bet it will look absolutely gorgeous.

*twiddles thumbs*

Mymymy!
I am jealous but excited, motivated but a bit like, "meow, i'll probably not be skin and bones and it wouldn't look nice on skin and bones anyway. and i hope to God it looks good."

I am soooo in love. Argh.
One month and waiting.
Then I will sit through two sessions, put madly close together.
I hope it can be done in two sessions though.
YUM!

I am smiley now(:
oooooh, it is love, this! The shadings, the curves.
Mine will be Fab too! IT WILL!

inside my head

Vespa, off white. Classic, vintage- looking.
Crisp morning air, the smell of happiness. My name called out by voices that sound like different versions of my mother and my grammy.
Sunlight shining through the spaces between branches that hold on to oranging leaves. My feet, on steady ground. Cement marked with history that i get to add on to. The world, shifting, shifting but for the very, very first time, taking me with it.

A car close to extinction, old fabric interior. Life within a life, home within home. Polaroids tacked to the dashboard, jacket tossed into the seat on my right. Windows wound down and Sara Bareilles on repeat.

Distinctly asian smells in non-asian places. Oh, that song. That odd chilly breeze. What once served to bring back memories, becomes one that brings back memories of bringing back memories.

Frisco, with its color and slopes and art and joy. With its life, that fills you, infects you and makes you want to want it to seep from your very pores.

And late afternoons, in the empty aisles of hypermarts, looking but not seeing. Leaving only with a pack of smokes even though you've still got a full pack in your purse, and your fridge is empty.
Pass the tea and sympathy becomes the phrase scrawled in curly letters on the walls on the inside of your head.

Window, smoke and port, cat by my right foot. Familiarity in moments that feel just a tad too cold. And, the thought of you.

It might be all the desserts(:

Sink with the tide,
rescue me if you like
I'll be leaving it all up to you
Think how we tried,
It's okay to be lied to
as long as it's only by you.


The week's been fantastical.

Oh why Hello You

Today turned out to be unexpectedly, surprisingly lovely,
and in quite a few ways too, might I add.

So I am nicely burnt, down one Chubby Hubby but up a Chubby Hubby, a Fudgy Brownie and a Smore.
Post- roasting session also saw me vegging out in an awfully nice, cozy way. After the spasming while playing Dead or Alive on The Little Creature's xbox that is.
I quite liked the unexpected company, it made me smile a whole lot more than I thought I would today.
Funny, that.

And then there was sushi for dinner with mommy and my on-screen daddy, and dessert.

And oh, there is tomorrow!(:
This girl is going to sleep a very happy bunny indeed.

The public pool

It's the first taste of a real-life Monday,
and I don't suppose I saw it coming so soon.
Maybe that's why I feel a little off balance today.

I'll go out in the sun today,
it's always helped me breathe.

time warps

and you've gotten me in absolute pieces.
Smiling, yes,
But just in absolute pieces.

It's nice.

On the front lobe of my left side brain

So I really didn't foresee this massive bumming around at Vee's yesterday, but it was pretty awesome and much needed i suppose.
^^

I finally managed to watch a couple of eps from Season 5 of How I Met Your Mother.
Except Lily pisses the fucking crap out of me,
NO THEY DON'T NEED TO HAVE THE BLOODY TALK YOU DIMWITTED TWAT.

Okay, I'm good now.

Hmm, a lot of messy mess that needs to be cleaned up.
It's not my mess though, but I wish I could be of more help to be honest.

Yesterday evening saw me having dins with the band, well most of. Wang and Deb joined us for the 11pm surprise. And Asher, darling that he is, pushed his plans back to hang out more.
It was lovely, seeing them as they were, hearing them catch up. They'd randomly go, "okay, lets not do NS talk with Charis!" But really, I honestly didn't mind because they were catching up and having fun and I liked seeing them like that.
Truly, I did.(:
So yes, they met Hilbert in person and listened and wowed.
And yes, Wesley, one day that will be you and my adorable children will clamber onto the stage and scream your name!
As if meeting up wasn't celebration enough, ROSHEN PASSED HIS DRIVING IN THE MORNING! So yes, drinks last night might just have been one of those last nights where he doesn't have to plan in advance whether or not he'll be drinking. aye.

So it was altogether quite good.
And we all clambered back home a little after one, save for Asher who was heading off for his life. hahaha.

It's Sunday!
And I'm having an all out family day with the family.
Sort of.
We ordered in Dominos for brunch and it was good. Grammy called though and so after the first ten minutes, it was just The Little Creature and I, and Glee, which was on telly.

I wanted to go for a swim, except, Sod's law being what it is,
the sun's gone down now. RAWR.
Maybe I'll go blade instead. I don't know.
Maybe I'll go be a disgusting little git and go sleep. TEEHEE

So, the Vineyard Loft dates are all set, and rehearsals are sort of booked.
This will be good.
It will be gooooooood(:
I'm terribly excited, and I've missed the boys so much! ACK.


So world, look out,
A Boy Named Sue, in its full glory, will be playing end of June(:

Meanwhile,
May, it looks a bit funny.
I don't do this, but hmm, lets just have a lookie-look shall we?

Conversation

"what in fuck's name are you doing?" i ask.
"i.i really have no clue." comes the hesitant reply.
"do you want to, i don't know, maybe stop?"
"no. No i don't think i do."
"and why's that?" i ask, annoyed and concerned all at once.

The other turns away, reaching for her menthol lights. Instead of taking one out though, she traces the sides of the box with her index finger, just runs over it, again and again.
"because," she says carefully, setting the box down, and placing the lighter directly in the middle of it, "because she makes me feel all these things that i never thought i could feel."

There is a beat, a slow exhalation of breath neither of us knew we were holding.

"because she makes me smile. Because she makes me feel. Because," she pauses, pulling out a cigarette and tapping it lightly against the box, "because she makes me want. And she makes me want to want," she lights up and turns away to expel the smoke,
"even though i know full well that i shouldn't. Even though i know that i can never hold on to this."

"It's going to hurt, you know." i say to her, "it's going to hurt like a bitch."
Her eyes hold mine for a second, and she nods slowly, taking it in, letting the energy between us drop.

"I know," she says with a half smile.
"and the problem is that it doesn't change anything."

And mirrors, sometimes they don't give you the reply you expect.

Brown leaves set against green, green grass

and no one's made weekdays so beautiful before

So. The week's come to an end already.
For some strange reason, in the last few weeks, i haven't been filled with the need to sigh whenever i realize that i'm about to embark on yet another week. I've always loved work, and still do, don't get me wrong. It's just, even the most passionate of people would sometimes think, "oh my word, there's woooooork."
And these weeks, i haven't been saying it with such immense dread in my voice. So it's nice.

I find my days are a decently comfortable balance these days, with just about enough time to smile and be insanely weird in class for the kids.

So. It's Friday, and i'm on the long and dangerous voyage back from my class (that ended at half five.) i've got to chuck my stuff down, drown myself in soap and water, and then head out again. Quite honestly speaking, i haven't the slightest idea how we're getting down tonight.

It's Tanny's 21st see, and as i type it, i realize that i'm pretty excited about it. Time to get fucktastically shitfaced, from what her event has promised. Although, i don't know really, if that'll happen. Been that long a while i suppose. Ah woe is me!
I've no idea what in the world to wear to the party either. Meh.
But what am i complaining about eh? Considering most of my Fridays nights for the last couple of years are usually spent working or just crashing out at home.
This is good(:

This week, it's been quite nice i'd say. It started off brilliantly on Monday and then Tuesday just completely blew my mind with absolutely everything from having a brilliant day at work to dinner (or lack thereof) and sunsets over glistening waters. Wednesday and Thursday saw me on a bit of a sugar high and then i sailed into Friday.
Friday, which has worked out lovely for me so far. Albeit hopping into just one more cab than i'd like. (the 72 bus queue stretched on for foooooooorever. It was ridiculous, i swear)
And oh Friday, it hasn't even finished yet! Ah, all these reasons to smile. It makes me want to dance around barefooted in grassy fields sometimes(:



and oh you bubble over, and i can't help this crazy smile i end up having

Alice In Underland's Wonderland

It's gotten me a bit flummoxed, to be quite honest.
I'd like to watch it again, to lean forward in my seat and catch everything that has to be said.

All those new names and words and phrases, they flew by me and I couldn't hold onto anything in that darn cinema.
But there're idea behind some things, that no online resource seems capable of pointing out.

I want to watch it again, and understand and feel.
Because I felt, and I teared,
but I feel like there's even more to understand.

What an interesting movie,
demanding that I rewatch it, and try to understand.
Most interesting indeed.

Lord, You move me in the oddest ways

Every Little Thing

Let me in
to see you in the morning light
to get me on and all along the tears they come
see all come
I want you to believe in life
but I get the strangest feeling that you've gone away
will you find out who you are too late to change?
I wish I could be
every little thing you wanted
all the time
I wish I could be
every little thing you wanted
all the time
some times

lift me up
just lift me up don't make a sound
and let me hold you up before you hit the Ground
see all come
you say your all right
but I get the strangest feeling
that you've gone away- you've gone away
and will you find out who you are too late to change?

I wish I could be
every little thing you wanted
all the time
I wish I could be
every little thing you wanted
all the time
some times

Don't give me up
don't give me up tonight
or soon nothing will be right at all
salvation
will you find out who you are too late to change?

I wish I could be
every little thing you wanted


And why do we forget, (and we do without even noticing), that there's always been someone waiting right on the fringe of our everyday.
Just, waiting,
for us to believe,
for us to ask,
for us to want to want,
for us to want.

I think we often miss out that He hurts too, that He cries,
that He wants and wishes.
The magic isn't in the snapping of fingers, it's in the story of getting you to believe.

We don't stop to think, that maybe while we're desperate for something else,
He's been desperate for us.



for us to say
"Daddy, sit here with me."

Clavicle

What I had to tell you most today, I whispered into your neck. So that I can tell myself I've told you and so that there are things I might keep, even when it still really makes sense for you to know.



You don't know it, but you don't really need to have me in the light.
And when you trust yourself a bit more, we can both just close our eyes and wait.

My incredibly lovely Tuesday

Today's two hour break had me hopping onto Afwan's bike and we took off to a Macs that wasn't Limbang Wet Market

We hung out and chatted and it was bril.
And after, I had Northbrooks, which I've missed terribly(:
As usual, they were lovely, and I honestly hope I'll get to take them for their last couple of lessons.



Theeeeeen,
there was strawberry cuppycake, an acoustic version of Chariot playing more or less on repeat,
dying shoes that held together for long enough so I could spin about randomly on pavements because I wa just that happy.

And then there was sunset.


Sometime after half past five,
I found myself in a heap.


But by some kind of miracle, I managed to pick my brains off the floor, stare in awe and take in the everything that was this bella notte,
and come back home.


So yes,
this was my pretty perfect Tuesday; I loooved the balance.

Fer rel?

No, really?

My Easter Monday was impossibly, jaw-droppingly beautiful.

Really? These skies, the colour of the water, the breeze?
It was ridiculously brilliant and difficult to believe.
But there I was, arms slipped around me as I took snapshots of sunsets that could only have been taken out of a painting.




and I did, but I didn't count on her reading me so well

Toilet Paper Love Letter

So, I don't know about you, but I noticed that I don't post the lyrics of my songs up very often.
This is Toilet Paper Love Letter,
and it's one of the songs that I like a bit more than the rest.
So far, it's only been performed live once, and it hasn't been recorded.
Gen, Van and Ci Wei who I hardly see these days were part of the group that got to hear it, alongside Victor, Vicky, Mommy and Janice who're aaaaaalways there(:
Everytime Gen's seen me since then, she always starts warbling bits of it and I get superbly embarrassed but she tells me, wide-eyed and honest that she really really likes the song, and that's the only reason she does that.
Funny, that.

So anyway, just in case you wanted to know,
I actually wrote this in the loo.
I took my notebook and pen in and hogged the cubicle until I was done.

Hopefully, I'll get to perform this at the Vineyard Loft event on May 4th. I'd really like you to hear it, whoever you turn out to be.

Enough.


Toilet Paper Love Letter

This, this is my
This is my toilet paper love letter
To, a lover who’s not real
Kiss, kisses of
Kisses of drunken stupor
Commitments made in the dark
The sound of breaking hearts

Can you fall in love with dreams?
Live in castles built in the sky?
Smell the roses that you pick,
Listen to Janis Ian and not cry?
Oh the lights, have they been dimmed?
Maybe we were all pretense
I could fall in love with this dream
But toilet paper love letters
Weren’t meant to be sent

This, this is my
This is my toilet paper love letter
To, a lover, non-existent
Lipstick-mirror writings
About a love, that isn’t

Numbers written on
Written on serviettes
Cell phones ringing with calls that won’t come
Realization, that comes with the sun

Can you fall in love with dreams?
Live in castles built in the sky?
Smell the roses that you pick,
Listen to Janis Ian and not cry?
Oh the lights, have they been dimmed?
Maybe we were all pretense
I could fall in love with this dream
But toilet paper love letters...

Can cold nights make you fall in love?
Promises be wrote in the sand?
Fingerprints left on your skin,
By an imaginary hand
Oh the candle, it’s blown out
Perhaps we were only pretense
I could fall in love Just tonight,
Because toilet paper love letters,
Toilet paper love letters
Weren’t meant to be
sent

-Toilet Paper Love Letter
Music & Lyrics by Charis Vera Ng ©

hallway.

Life is fair.
If she can, then surely my turn will come, won't it?

I want to know how it'll feel, when you get to the most perfect point and then look back. I want to have an idea that i can smile at. I want to feel, but it's not my turn to feel.

So, i will sit in empty chapels, run my fingers over the rosary,
And wait.

Black and white

I am more feel than i am logic,
More gut than i am words.

But still, i can breathe and surely, that must count for something.