its raining its pouring

my muse told me
dont be afraid,
of knowing
of trying
of making mistakes

i feel so sick of myself
of doing all the above
it makes me want to run and hide
in memories of yesterday

i tried doing the same things that used to leave me speechlessly enchanted
but the harder i rummage, the harder i fall
into icy cold relfections of reality
and shadows of missing smiles

if this place is perfect
why am i only smiling in my dreams

write on

the wind was blowing in our faces when we walked down memory lane, with our heads buried in the present and our mouths nibbling at the future

"when you have no idea, fall back into reality"

"i can't do something without a reason"

sometimes, i have to admit, reality is suffocating. everyday i wish to wake up to a new beginning, only to realise i've fallen deeper into vices. my new remedy to uncertainty is butter, my spring soundtrack the chirping of birds outside my window, blending in is my new superpower. i've learnt to end smalltalk with a worn out smile.

she said "even if you don't give a shit about the world, there must be one thing, the very one particular thing, you do care about"

it took me three drafts, a truck load of courage, some more to stop myself from backspacing everything and pretend i don't need this space, these words to save me.

but i do. and if there's one thing i do care about, its me and my words.

because unlike everything else thats happening, i do care about this huge white empty space, and the fact that something as simple as black letters can make sense out of nothingness.

because you cannot write about something if it doesn't feel right. if it doesn't touch your heart.

it's as simple as that.

so, sorry but i cannot let reality numb my heart. i have to write on.

lets imagine this is a story and we'll always be playing a part of it

the making of a dream

i was adding butter into some yellow sludge called banana cake when suddenly, out of the blue, i asked my sister "what does home feel to you"

she said "this is home"

I remember the thing closest to home, is the red roses i see in paris, the chill air I felt when i stepped out of claridges

i kept stirring the mixture, my mind as cloudy as the white foam

i felt so wrong when everything is so right

"maybe someday, I'll write."

"i'll open a bakery, one section labelled homemade, the other patisserie."

"you think its hard to make a movie? even one with a small budget?"

" i think its sad to stop dreaming"

and the kitchen was suddenly immersed in the smell of a sweet answer.

dream on girl

today, i decide, its not worth it

to make pretend that its time to give up your dreams when thats the only reason why you've been living

to hurt the ones you love

to lose your words your smile your time

this might be wrong

but if its all it takes to dream on

i'll take the plunge.

we are born to forget -but only the worst and lets remember the rest.

yup. i survived another breakdown.
am currently on med and a new lifestyle.

the winter blue's been haunting a little too long
i wish spring can take the plunge and let the buds blossom so we can all be reminded how beautiful we still are

i once wrote to a girl "we are born to forget"
i am right but also so wrong
because we tend to forget the best together with the worst.
we forget the reason why we smiled
we forget the ones who deserve your love
instead poured too much time into those who threw it all down the drain
we forget we traded tears for every heartbeat we skipped
we forget how it felt like to fall head over heels for someone something some song some promise
and how good it is to be home.

it took some love from brown, some words from sherborne, a flood of confessions and some belated talk to recall the best

so for now, i'll take it easy and try to remember the rest

i wish. i knew.

do you sometimes feel that you're remembering
a you thats very far away
and the one that looks back in the mirror
doesn't feel familiar
no sadness involved. just different. just not the same.

i used to fall head over heels for things i like
now that i learnt how to control my desire
the enchanted feeling seemed so foreign
i wish i can stop falling out of love
and find my way back in.

i wish i knew where to begin
but how would it be possible when i don't even know how it ended
it's just like how the gloomy winter's lingering a little too long
i don't want to make this numbness permanent

so i say a little prayer
and wish that on the morning when the sun decide to shine again
i can recall
the reason behind the effortless smiles

foolproof

he repeated something i quote randomly

"words come easy when they're true"

it took me more than 3 drafts before this post gets published. the struggle is: i wonder what i want to make permanent. the memories? the pain? or its aftermath? i realise, its really only the love.

when i decide to go through my 25 most-played songs on this warm sunday morning, the pages of yesterday flipped like the feb issue of elle i've been reading over and over again for god knows how many times already. i like to label my happenings with their own soundtracks. loop a john mayer jackjohnson and you can indoctrinate yourself that it once felt as good as it had been. tug the crumbs of bliss gently underneath somewhere so it doesn't bother you no more.

when you can't decide whats right for the moment, stick with what's fool-proof.

for me, is the equivalent of demin, grey blazer, chanel and myself.