two girls crying over smiling cake

when u find urself indulging in cheesecake last nite and again in the morning
and maybe craving for some in the afternoon to come and maybe as dessert for later tonite
while u are in some immense dieting mode
then maybe
and very likely
u r in denial of all the pain inside

suddenly the Ocean cocktail stings my heart like some overloaded grey goose
when she told me with tears framed in her eyes
"he said he didn't love me no more"
if some words like this some swords like that can break a listener's heart
i dont even want to pretend i could saviour her silent bleeding
maybe its different but very indifferent in some way
believe me when i say what more can be said and done
two girls seeking answers in some blueberry cheesecake

didn't they tell us to smile and laugh like there's no tomorrow
no they didn't tell us all the cheesecake's not the reason but the remedy
how can they actually say it's just not the right time
and not realise it never had been and never will be

why are there two girls crying over smiling cakes

spare the interrogation. spare the fuss
every being is wounded one way or the other.

someone patch up my rare wounds

don't shed no more tears. it's killing me.

A man. A child. Some Love. a Pinch of Hope

Then he placed the doll back in its tiny house and looked her in the eye

His gaze embraced her tightly as if her every movement of hers mesmerises him like the first laugh first cry first step

I’ll never know whether she returned his gaze in the same way, I’m privileged enough only to appreciate her silhouette

But everytime she moved a doll placed it on its petite bed she looks up at him

And gave him the angelic smile

Which, I doubt, if doesn’t melt every heart, would at least one

They never touched

It was either she who showed off the doll’s routine lifestyle, or him pretending to imitate, yet failing at every attempt to mimic the gentleness of his little precious

There they sat, in the middle of all the shoppers, boarding announcements, people frustrated by gate numbers boarding time

There they sat in this little heaven of their own, waiting for the angel of their lives to return, all the while treasuring every second of bliss in thee Eden gardens

Who says a heaven isn’t complete without apples

I say all it takes is a girl a boy some love and a bunch of hope

For that angel to return

written: 2:25 p.m sapporo airport

P.S. this is the teeniest effort i've placed in a blog post. took me literally one second to Ctrl+X then Ctrl+V everything from word to the world wide web. don't even start pointing the finger at my laziness. blame the MIA wifi in nihon's domestic airport.

updated (via sapporo, Japan.)

they call it a getaway for a reason
the run to nihon is ususally an excuse for pro-longed shoe-hunting bags yearning and fake braids spying
who cares abt the fugly unreasonable inexplicable exchange rates yeh?

i usually dont prefer to reminisce the new post icon when its an hr ahead here and knowing theres more shop-till-i-drop in the days to come
but please someone fix my i-m-so-tired-but-i-couldnt-sleep
trust me, nth can be worse than staying awake sober when everyone is getting high in their own dreams

maybe i just want the sad post below to sink a little lower
a little further
down
down
down
down
down
and not self-prioritize itself like the sweet memories and the hazardous pain
please let me sleep in this mess of wounds and wake up to a valley of sushi boulevard of clogs

even the japanese skies are crying

"you promise we'll never come back?" " i promise."

when u find yourself wandering alone on a peopleless road at 1 in the morning smelling the hatred of knowing someone u once loved loved someone else seeing only teary trees wishing oh-if-only-someone-could-lift-the-weight-from-my-heart wondering if last year had been anything more than some mistakes and heartaches

then out in that nowhere

it surprises even the myself when all i can think of is this

the blog

the words

the silent written revenge

or maybe, better put, the long-due confession

why did i hear my own sobs felt my own tears when i heard that he almost kissed her the other night

its so predictable its almost what would and should have happened

its either him kissing someone or me falling into others embrace

its always just a game of who-gets-there-first

but as i tried to relate the spoken news into unseen reality

i felt these foreign waves of pain

washing out all other emotions on the inside

it started from the toes to the head

then came the cold limbs

the pounding sense of hunger

and an appetite bloated with mistakes regrets

it always begins with the pain

the pain from the loss and not-found

then almost immediately anger finds its place with the waterfall of tears

the rage of falling victim to believing oh so foolishly

that words like you-are-the-girl-of-my-dreams still exist

the anger of not knowing the formula of forgetting

instead got scratched and torn and wounded for merely believing for one more time its right to hold on and not let go

the worst part u wana know wut the worst part is

it is when all the answers to the questions directed themselves to the founder

it is exactly like how the needle of a compass always points to the north

the worst part is when u realise

u are north

u are the voices in ur head

u are the one who hoped who got urself hurt who fall head over heels for the wrong person

again.

again?

again...

i need no are-u-okays. i need no miracles. i need no other shoulder no other helping hand

this time i need to pick myself up

replay the pain and remember it

remember the price i have to pay everytime i fall for another fairytale

the reason why no one deserves to be too happy

and no one too sad

for once fatigue became the best remedy

i wonder if it meant anything

if i meant anything

if everything meant anything

and the crumpled note was left unread

amongst the bushes where we once sneaked out

if only u got my words

if only it would make a difference

its best to say ciao when u know something just doesnt deserve forever

Dear you,

on certain days when your head's going in circles after immense overly-repeated parking and u-turns
when summer heat's closing up on you like some sweaty panting guy unconscious of his bad breath
thats the time when i'd crave for a little romance off the paperbacks
and some left-over sushi that sat awaiting in the fridge
never losing its cool

when i come to think of it
i'd forgotten the last time some stranger's words brings a smile
as my eyes began jogging along the Savannahs the conversations the "I"s
my other senses came alive as well
some he-looks-her-in-the-eyes formed as vividly as reality in my head
i wondered whats the "her hair smelled like strawberries" scent all about
there would be a sudden "aww" outloud
or a silent tear which forms a darker shade of yellow on the coarse paper before i even realise
all the while i sat, in bear's embrace
the words stirring up memories
of some man i once loved now hated
of some boy i once thought i liked and still secretly does
of some someone in the future who would bring the same smile same frown same tears
as nicholas sparks had with his words



who needs a hug when we've been rocking in beary embrace
who needs a kiss when words like his nudges our heart
who needs the arm round your waist if it fades as soon as it untwines
i need only the words that takes me to the very beginning
and make every moment last
forever

keeping the idyllic sunday afternoon to myself
with the remaining bite of camembert and a spark of romance





oh and only if i could rest in his embrace
pretending for a moment that it would last forever

Love,
Chau

sunblocks, swimpants

it surprises me how the littlest thing brings back the fondest of memories
this time they are sunblocks
how i used to turn to beach towels bikini and sunblocks
on my most frustrated days with biology test econ IAs and chinese essays due first day of a tormenting week ahead
how i used to find immediate content in whipping all standing sunblocks on the shelf
grabbing my speakers before dashing out into the alluring blue skies smiling sun
running into martin round the bend.
him and his red swimpants.
we'd skip along the shades fallen leaves soft warm rays
until we rid the clingy heat by throwing ourselves into emerald waters
as the sun sets in it would be all giggles splashes you-race-me-to-the-other-end
almost everytime i'd make him get us diet coke
sometimes i'd hint at the desire for honey mustard pretzel pieces
we'd fight a little tease a little laugh a little
but in the end i always get my pretzel pieces
always.

on other days when the sun decided on a sweet short visit
the fact that we're wet both inside and outside the waters always amuses us
we'd dance in the drizzle, pretending the world's an ocean and we're never going to leave it
we'll always be fishes in the water
and nobody can take our breath away

i used to teach him my proud tanning routine
starting with pre-tan sunblock, followed by tanning sunblock, ending with post-tan lotion
the idea of carrying bottles of sunblock annoys him
to him
its always just red swimpants.

before i met martin i swim for seconds instead of the sun
its always only about how to beat the clock beat my peers beat myself
its never about the sun

i am surprised he remembered all the sunblocks
i am amazed how i've never forgotten his red swimpants
i learnt that some memories just disapper
others come back for random catch-ups

today's the sunblocks and red swimpants
i secretly wish that this time
they'll stay
forever.

Nothing is all i know

initally i'd like to splatter angry bitter depressing words upon this innocent white canavas
i didnt know what exactly but SOMETHING pulled me back
is it the fading rebellion or the weary of revenge
or the inadequacy of words or the confusion of feelings
is it because patience replaced self-pity as days goes by as i grew up
or maybe its just because things that used to rule my world doesn't seem to matter anymore

so i gave up all the hoping expecting perfecting beliving
traded them for immunity towards disappointment frustration revenge self-pity
but today i spotted
this tiny crack on my wall of belief
oh and i actually thought it could endure the hurricane of dismissal

a tear fell somewhere down the abyss of heartaches
but so lightly it failed to wake the ripples

i'd like to believe
that for the past 17 years of every 365 days
i'd work to the best of my ability to make HIM proud, to be his pride.
yet his modest appreciation lavish disapprovals stirred up storms that shook raged shattered my ego confidence and the fragile relationship between us
everyday i looked into his eyes i saw only the reflection of imperfection
theres always something i did wrong
something i need to ammend
some punctuality i'd like to learn
some manners i'd failed to pick up
some past i'd never understand
some stupidity that defines an eighteen-year-old girl in the eyes of the father

theres always some questions i'd like to ask some answers that never manage to fill the gap
am i not good enough not even for once?
if you want a saint as the daughter can you just tell me what else i could have done
is it a new sin to eat cereal in the morning and not go to bed before midnite
would it be better if i just shut up and you do the lecturing
is it my fault that i know less about the world out there than you do
just because you've survived the second world war right before i was born






he asked if i'd like to share cheese in the fridge
i'd want to belive he'd actually liked cheese
i pretend i didn't think he cared
sometimes
even cheese can't stop the bleeding