Only if guilt doesnt find me being a dreamer all my life.
"All those beautiful boys. Tattoos of ships and tattoos of tears," CocoRosie.
Just like any other usual boring days, I sat here staring. Pretty much a shithole, en-suited with a phone-booth sized shower room, a double bed too big to be alone in, a messed up collage of pretty clippings right in my face, stationery/books/movies/chocs/trash filled the desk, a shitty internet connection, the ugliest curtains you've ever imagined, the chilling breeze that never fails to find its way through the tilted window, a stinky corridor and the Ghetto Boys hanging around the blocks dumping glass bottles at our units. The best thing though; my ever beloved Audio-Technical stereo headphones blasting Mondo'77. Life would have been worse without it. And my guilty pleasure of watching tons of American T.V. shows on the www. . .
Its amazing how your mind fails you; you remember nothing of any presence as you see yourself in a photograph. And it all seems so strange as you wonder if that was you indeed. Some photographs just dont trigger any recollections of sort and fear envelops as one doubts this reality. Time steals Memories with no mercy; and simply teases you with headaches. The worst thing that may happen is when your mind gets disillusioned and you just cant tell what was for real. Hallucinations and denials aint the nicest beings; bundled with a burning heart and ruined lungs.
My 'evil' twin sister - the princess of darkness (yes, and I'm the princess of reverie) wrote me a letter sent from Argentina, attached with a photograph of us in the Mickey Mouse Mascot costumes taken when we were 9. I thought of her all these time, I wished I could slip into her dreams, draw on her shoes and steal all her sorrows away...
Yet she need not a photograph to remind her that the closest thing she ever remember of him is close to 2 decades ago -- riding high on his shoulders watching the hippos stuck in that confined pond, that prickly beard and him screaming at her with a cane while she locked herself in the bathroom. She cannot remember what she had done. And the fear of his uncontrolled anger towards the woman who is destined to bring her into this ridiculous world; then, she wished she had a broken home instead of one pretending all to be alright. She'd always wished not to grow up cos days of sitting in a car, looking out of the window with nothing in her mind - nothing, is the most enjoyable ride ever. Then, she had the superpower of controlling the world - for what was to happen and not to. It's strange but she was definitely stronger then.
We only had each other although we do have an elder brother who gave no fuck to nothing; yet now me and her are thousands of miles away. I didnt know what to reply her, I only sent her a picture I took on our birthday while I was out standing by the shore alone. I wasnt in it. She would have knew what was in my mind if she'd seen me in it; I didnt want her to be worried, I only wish for her to be happy and high.
I wonder if Wai's dead. Been awhile since I last heard from him...
Just like any other usual boring days, I sat here staring. Pretty much a shithole, en-suited with a phone-booth sized shower room, a double bed too big to be alone in, a messed up collage of pretty clippings right in my face, stationery/books/movies/chocs/trash filled the desk, a shitty internet connection, the ugliest curtains you've ever imagined, the chilling breeze that never fails to find its way through the tilted window, a stinky corridor and the Ghetto Boys hanging around the blocks dumping glass bottles at our units. The best thing though; my ever beloved Audio-Technical stereo headphones blasting Mondo'77. Life would have been worse without it. And my guilty pleasure of watching tons of American T.V. shows on the www. . .
Its amazing how your mind fails you; you remember nothing of any presence as you see yourself in a photograph. And it all seems so strange as you wonder if that was you indeed. Some photographs just dont trigger any recollections of sort and fear envelops as one doubts this reality. Time steals Memories with no mercy; and simply teases you with headaches. The worst thing that may happen is when your mind gets disillusioned and you just cant tell what was for real. Hallucinations and denials aint the nicest beings; bundled with a burning heart and ruined lungs.
My 'evil' twin sister - the princess of darkness (yes, and I'm the princess of reverie) wrote me a letter sent from Argentina, attached with a photograph of us in the Mickey Mouse Mascot costumes taken when we were 9. I thought of her all these time, I wished I could slip into her dreams, draw on her shoes and steal all her sorrows away...
Yet she need not a photograph to remind her that the closest thing she ever remember of him is close to 2 decades ago -- riding high on his shoulders watching the hippos stuck in that confined pond, that prickly beard and him screaming at her with a cane while she locked herself in the bathroom. She cannot remember what she had done. And the fear of his uncontrolled anger towards the woman who is destined to bring her into this ridiculous world; then, she wished she had a broken home instead of one pretending all to be alright. She'd always wished not to grow up cos days of sitting in a car, looking out of the window with nothing in her mind - nothing, is the most enjoyable ride ever. Then, she had the superpower of controlling the world - for what was to happen and not to. It's strange but she was definitely stronger then.
We only had each other although we do have an elder brother who gave no fuck to nothing; yet now me and her are thousands of miles away. I didnt know what to reply her, I only sent her a picture I took on our birthday while I was out standing by the shore alone. I wasnt in it. She would have knew what was in my mind if she'd seen me in it; I didnt want her to be worried, I only wish for her to be happy and high.
I wonder if Wai's dead. Been awhile since I last heard from him...