Uncertain path

I wobble and skip along the pebbled path to somewhere.
Where light and clouded darkness meet in a single place.
They twirl around my fingers and brush along my earlobe,
whispering promises I can't hear and neither wanting.
My pink faded toes are streaked with stains of wine
That bind me to the claws of yesterday.
Yesterday is today gone passed.
And today is tomorrow that just came.
They are all the same. Yet slightly different.
Why do we often let tomorrow become yesterday?
When it should always remain today.
In the distance, exploding flowers and bodies
of sweat celebrate the passing of time.
The future is uncertain like a drunken man
blindly searching for the street home.
Where should I go this year?
Turn left into half-open eyes of pool shallow smiles.
Walk to the right into hands of open chances that are tightrope thin.
My feet are quivering and my hands have no where to grip.
So lets hold onto each others hands and brace the icy waves.
Maybe we'll find happiness in fireflies that live forever.
Or maybe we'll get lost on the way.
But at least we're not alone.
And anything is better than that.

Kiss

Note: Here is the next instalment to the series of linked short stories I've been writing. There IS a name to this series but I'm not revealing. Just yet. MUAHAHAHA. Hope you all enjoy!!

- - - - -

We are both children to the outside world but in our little bubble of make-believe; he was the older one in the relationship. He is ten when I am eight. He already learnt the things that I always found new. He will always be the one with the more experience. The one with the upper hand. Will there ever be a day where I could be the winner for once?

I’m lying with my back blanketed by threads of long grass. I stretch my small fingers out into the sky and imagine catching the falling stars. I still can’t believe that stars were merely flaming balls of gas. My fourth grade teacher must have been lying to me. There is no way such heavenly beings could be simply gas. Doesn’t gas come from our butts? How does it reach the sky? No. Stars are definitely beautiful clusters of pixie dust. How else do stars grants our wishes? I am halted in my childish pondering when he comes rushing into my backyard, ‘Emma, my Dad finally bought me a guitar! Now I don’t have to borrow my brother’s one any more.’ I sit up to see him trudging a large black case with shining silver clasps. I admit that I was impressed. Maybe just a little.

He pulls me up to my feet and we run next door to his garage. Hand in hand, I imagine this is what it feels like to elope with the one you love. Or so that’s what adults say. Once inside, he slams the door shut and throws a microphone at me, ‘We’re going to start a rock band and you’re the lead singer!’ I gently place the microphone back down and walk out. He pulls me back through the door, ‘Emma, where are you going?’ I glare up at his bewildered eyes and pull my most indignant expression, ‘I’m not going to be your singer. I’m going to be a writer, remember? Plus, I heard that most singers marry their lead guitarist!’ He pushes me against the wall and stares into my shocked-widen pupils, ‘And what is wrong with marrying me?’

‘One day, you’ll walk out on me.’

I don’t look at him when I say this because I’m too afraid of his expression. But it’s the truth. Most flamboyant men like him will always walk out. My Daddy did. He left the house with a tall woman with red rivers of hair and eyes as cold as a hungry serpent. That day, just before they left I held onto Daddy’s coat like a leach and she bent down to my eye level with a voice sweeter than sugar. So sweet that it makes you want to puke, ‘Don’t worry girly, I’ll make sure to take care of Daddy very well.’ Back then I thought: Isn’t she too old to have a Daddy? He is my Daddy, not hers! Back then, I still didn’t understand what she meant.
 

‘I’m not going to leave you.’
He entwines my little finger and forces me to pinky promise. I still don’t believe him. How can fingers keep promises? There is still so much I don’t understand about the Adult world. All I know is that men are liars. And Mummy looked so small crying on the floor. I never want to be her. I never want to be that abandoned kitten. It sounds so painful.

He can see the doubt in my eyes and tries to think of a way to maintain my trust. After minutes of ruffling his bird’s nest hair, he jumps to his feet with a shout and runs back to me. He stands me up straight and once again whispers gently, ‘I promise to never leave you.’ And he abruptly mashes our lips together. I stand there shocked and violated. He just kissed me. He just kissed me. He smiles at me proudly, ‘We just kissed.’ I glare at him with all my might and push him until he falls onto the ground, ‘No kidding. You just stole my first kiss you bully!! I’m going to tell Mummy!!’

‘Emma, do you know what a kiss means?’

I stop by the half open door and look back at him in confusion. What does a kiss mean? I never really thought about it before. Adults do it all the time. But what does it really mean? Is it something men do to trick women? Does it actually hold any meaning at all? Mummy told me what it meant once. Long ago. Before when she used to smile a lot. What does it mean? I can’t remember.

‘It means I love you’.

Please support Buoyan

The video above shows my good friend Richard's dance crew Buoyan .

Buoyan has been NOMINATED for "Group of the Year" by StarCentral Magazine. Personally, I think they deserve to win this as I know that they work very hard to be where they are now. If you liked what you saw in the video, please vote for  Buoyan. Much appreicated!!!

The voting poll closes on the 25th September, 2010. So please VOTE for "BUOYAN DANCE CREW"

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

They are a young and an upcoming dance crew in Australia. Their age ranges from 16 - 18 years old. Each individual within the crew expresses a different style and outlook on dancing, thus, their dance styles are variable. However, they are all freestylers.

They've competed and placed in competitions, whether it may be international or national. They have placed 3rd at World Hip Hop Championships - Australian Qualifier 2009 and 2010 Varsity and also have won freestyle dance battles (FLOS), placed at local competitions like Super Seven and competed at Australian Hip Hop Championship as well as Groove Battlegrounds. 

   

Unitled feelings: The Girl (part 2)

Love. What does such a word actually mean? Is it mutual feelings for one another? Or. Wanting someone with each and every cell in your body? Or. Knowing that his smiles were never for you and still stupidly and readily you'll wait for that one moment where your eyes meet? Let me tell you what love is. What it really is. Love is a mirage. It is there when you are most desperate, teasing in the distance. Just when you think you can quench your thirst, you are drowned by dry, course sand. Your heart, it becomes so full of sand that it stretches slowly until one day it explodes. Then you are left with nothing but pain. Love is painful. Love is hurting but still smiling.

You. You are the most confusing person I've ever met. Always, you are joking and laughing at the day but sometimes you are so serious that its frightening. There are always an underlying message in your words but I'm lost with the possibilities. You are the only one that sees through my forever mask. Sometimes, my eyes follow your movements without thinking. I find myself lost with the way you walk slowly but confidently. The way you smile and how you always open the door for me. I always watch you but I don't understand you. You confuse me. All I know is that when ever I'm with you, I'm always happy. Sometimes though, I forget that you're still a kid. That I'm an adult. That in reality, we lead very different lives.




I was lost in a sea of alcohol flooded bodies drowning in sweat. I never liked these parties. They were pointless and demeaning. But only a few minutes ago Jake called to come. There was something I had to see. Something about my boyfriend Adam. I didn't like the sound of his tone. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I already knew. The answer lied screaming underneath all his smiles. His jacket smeared with lipstick stains when I hardly use make-up. His busy days with no time left for me. His shirt no longer holding my scent but the faint smell of her. The answer was obvious. So it did not surprise me that behind the closed door was him sleeping beside my best friend. The answer was obvious.

I didn't give him any time to explain. I walked back out that door with only one word: Liar.
You won't see me cry.I was an idiot. Blinded by my own stupidity. Blinded by his lies. He never loved me. Blinded by my own fear of loneliness. Somewhere deep down, I already knew that he was having an affair but continuously I kept on making excuses for him. Excuse after excuse. But seeing the truth was different. There was no way to pretend that it never happened. Lies. Lies. They were all lies. Let's drown every memory with alcohol. I wanted to forget. Let's drown every memory with toxic. Poison versus poison. Maybe somewhere was an antidote.

The tears swirled with the foam of cold bitter beer. Bitter like myself. I swayed and weaved through people. For once I blended in with the faceless crowds of parties. For once I just didn't care. As long as no one saw me cry. I am weak. Soon all I saw were blurs of people. Blurs of reality. Please take me somewhere far away. I grabbed another glass. How many was that? I lost count. I longer ago lost count. It was too many. Just like his lies. I couldn't take it any more. I needed out. I needed to get away. Everyone walked passed me and I walked through them. There was no one here for me. No one is important.

Outside, the kind wind kissed my cheeks lovingly. I watched as a pair of fireflies waltzed around each other. I envied them. They were in love. They were free from the lies of humans. Humans are ugly. Why was I born to be human? What was my meaning in life? Was there a way for me to skip ahead of time and reassure myself of my happiness? Underneath a tree, like a guardian angel someone watched me. I could feel his caring eyes. Was he my saviour? Please take me somewhere far away. Something in my heart clenched lightly. Slowly like Fate reeling in his fish, I walked towards the man that watched me as though I was the most important person in the world. Maybe I could be. Something in this moment told me that this was a meeting that was predetermined. With all my concentration I willed myself to ask him: Will you love me?

I woke up to an unfamiliar warmth and the scent of a man. Sleeping beside me was an unknown man but somehow I was not afraid. I never felt so safe in my life. He was my guardian angel. I sat up and realised that I was lying on his arm. How could he do that? A man I knew nothing about was more kind than my ex-boyfriend. Someone I knew for a year. Glancing at my watch I discovered that to my horror that I had an hour before my lecture. My professor was going to murder me. Quickly before I left, I gave my saviour a kiss.
I hope we'll meet again.

Before Unknowing. . . .

There was a boy. . .
I had known him since primary school (elementary) and up until the end of last year, I attended high school with him. During primary school I was never interested in him even though we had 5th grade together. However, he was not invisible to me. He could never be invisible because during primary school, he was the subject of almost every girl's attention. He was Mr Popular. I was probably one of the few girls that didn't fawn over him.

Then, in year 8 he started catching the same bus home as I did. Even though his old bus stopped closer to his house. He told me that he voted for me to get into the student council. He started talking to me. He sat next to me on the bus several times. I started noticing him more. Soon, all I could see was his smile. I had fallen for Mr Popular. The one guy I said I would never fall for. I wanted to be different but even I couldn't resist his charm.

I never once allowed myself to think for more than a second that he liked me. I was never a really confident person. I thought that I was too aware of him. That I was being over conscious. He was always there. Sometimes, when my class had P.E. I could see his class on the opposite end. Sometimes, he would run over and give me one of his sweet smiles: Hey. I always replied back happily. Sometimes, he would hide behind me and use me as a shield. His large hands on my shoulders. Sometimes, I can still feel his warmth. I remembered the first time I gave him a Christmas card. His shocked expression. His smile when reading. I remember my red face afterwards. Even though, I was happy with him, I never thought he would like me. I thought: Someone like him would not like someone like me. After a year and a half I gave up.

I was wrong.
Yesterday, I was on Facebook. I was bored and so I toyed with one of those applications where you can find out what people thought of you after unlocking with points: BFF. So I found one where someone had answered yes to: Have you ever had a crush on ****? I was really curious so I unlocked it. To my utter surprise and shock it was none other than Mr Popular....

I was really happy. It made my heart beat furiously knowing that at one point in time someone shared mutual feelings with me. It was a real confidence booster. Though, it also created regrets. If I had gathered more courage. If I had a stronger will. . .What would have happened? Would he and I be together now? Would I be happy? These questions will probably haunt me for a long time. But I'm happy to know at least that he had liked me. Even if it was long ago. Even though I missed my chance.

So the moral of the story is folks: ACT ON YOUR FEELINGS !!!!! DON'T HESITATE

Because opportunities are rare. When they come, don't hesitate or you'll be left wondering of the what ifs and the things that could have been.

Hesitate and you'll regret. Wait and chances are lost.

TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS DAY !!! again

To Write Love on Her Arms is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide.  TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery.

You were created to love and be loved.  You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. You need to know that your story is important and that you're part of a bigger story.  You need to know that your life matters.

Everyone is important.
Everyone deserves to be loved and know that you're love. Love is the best cure. 

            To Everything


The plan is simple but very effective. For one whole day, walk around with LOVE written or drawn on your arms. The point is to make it as attention grabbing as possible. You want people to stare and wonder. You want people to ask you why the hell did you get fake tatoos or graffited your arm.




YOUR ANSWER: To Write Love On Her Arms Day: to bring awareness to depression.


JOIN THE AWARENESS. I'LL UPLOAD MY PICTURES LATER !!! ^^

Mr Ebay Reject

So my friend started a 2nd hand online shop at Mr Ebay Reject
I absolutely love 2nd goods. When I buy them, its like I'm breathing into them a 2nd life.
Sometimes, I like to imagine what their past life was life. Did they have a good owner? Were they loved?
Or were they totally mistreated and that is why they're being sold 2nd hand?
Well, regardless of past events, everyone needs a second chance to live and breathe.
Humans need to slow down a bit and learn from the voiceless objects gazing at you from the windows. Listen to their cries and please of mercy. They don't want to be burned to death or left forgotten in the gutter.
Next time you have some spare cash, pop by a 2nd hand store or if lazy just click on the above link.
Mr Ebay Reject is an online 2nd hand shop that gives everyone a second chance.

Untitled

Hello Lovesick fools ^^

I am happy to present to you my first guest blogger, Jodi from You Don't Want To Read This. She is a delightful person who has experienced many things in life and like many of us, she is still trying to figure things out. Many things are still left unknown or untitled. So whenever you're free, please visit her. I highly recommend it.^^

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I pushed him away, and then told him that I wasn’t interested in any of the things that he wanted. “I think that we should just keep things casual…. Like you said to begin with ‘you don’t want anything serious’ and the more that I think about it, neither do I”. After that, so many things went unsaid, feelings covered up; masked with carefree attitudes and pure lust. I had no idea at the time that one sentence could ruin my entire world. 

Hours, days, and then months; we spent all of our time together. Dark and mysterious, he took my curiosity to his advantage and lured me in like a cave hidden in the middle of the woods, and little did I know I would never make it out; I would be lost in him forever. I wandered that cave aimlessly and discovered the wonders of his personality, things that no one else would ever be able to find. Soon, all that I wanted to do was stay in that time and explore the depths of who he was; I wanted to be the first to discover all of the uncharted territories of his mind and his soul. So there I was, lost in him, not looking for a way out. 

“What do you mean you changed your mind? You can’t just change your mind like that. You said that I was right and that the only way that things would work is if we kept things casual. What happened to ‘love doesn’t work, life isn’t some fairy tale’? You’re the one that didn’t want this, that didn’t want us.”

“Fine, forget that I said anything.”

He held me that night and for the first time it felt like we were hundreds of miles apart. I was what he wanted, and now he is what I want but we’re both stuck. I can see him in the distance, he isn’t moving, he isn’t trying, and he’s just standing still. I can’t find a way to get to him, I’ve tried every possible path and I just keep getting lost and finding myself further away. I need him to move, maybe if he tries to come to me, I can meet him halfway. For days I scream at him, hoping that he can hear me from far away ‘I need you to come to me. I’m ready, and we can make this work.’ He hears every word that I say, and he wants to try but there was something getting in the way that I couldn’t see. And no matter how much he wanted it, or how hard he tried, he would always be tied down by that one sentence; those few words strung together played over and over again in his mind. He wanted me, and I wanted him, but now it’s too late. So I lay there that night and closed my eyes. I listened to him breathe and I inhaled the lingering scent of his cologne on his sheets. I wanted to memorize every little detail about that moment, my last moment with him.

3 years' Unknowing- The Beginning

Someone once told me that I should make my life into a story. Apparently, it would be interesting
or heart-throbbing. I still wonder about the enthusiasm people would have about my life so I opted instead to write about my love life since after all I specialise  in romantic literature. There is something else too that is precious about this story: it contains the past three years with and without my unknowing guitarist. This account is my last farewell to him in which I finally reveal his name.
This post will be quite long so I am dividing it into 3 inidividual posts. Sorry for the inconvience.

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

    3 year's Unknowing

The Beginning

I lean against the tiles which send shivers down my bare back. The dress, is it too revealing? I wonder if I should have worn something simpler? I wonder if I should have chosen a different meeting place. What if someone recognises us? Maybe, he won't come in the first place. This after all, is merely my own outrageous request. I caress the digital camera in my handbag and question the possibility of a photo. A selfish keepsake for when years later, I no longer will be able to visualise the twinkle of his eyes. Even so, I will remember always the three years I had with and without him.


I glanced down at the blue ballpoint pen I held in my hand with shock. Had I just gone with the flow and told a complete stranger my email address? I analysed the gleaming pen lid in my other hand and confirmed that stationery supplies don't drag themselves from my shoulder-bag and squeeze themselves into my palm. I slumped down from my standing position and gave out a long sigh: Why must I always be such an easy person? I should learn to say no. Why can't people let me finish Vietnamese school without any difficulties or allow me to wait for my brother in the opposite classroom in peace? Is it so much to ask for?

Every Sunday, I am dragged out of bed and to Vietnamese school thanks to my beloved mother. The following Sunday after the suprising incident, two boys showed up at my classroom during lunchbreak. My good friend Duy Li happened to know them by the names of Anthony and Victor. Anthony, was the name of my 'complete stanger' and it came to be a name I would fear for a long time.

To say the most, I began to dread every lunch-time for lunch brought Anthony. He was a peculiar young man. Peculiar being an understatement. He was always sitting too close or asked uncomfortable questions. I being such a pushover didn't know how to respond. But with Anthony, there was always Victor. And he was my little sparkle of light amongst the darkness.

Victor and I turned out to be very compatible. We were both book lovers but of very different genres. He:Historical fiction and I: Romance. In Victor, I found my writing companion who understood the difficulties of writer's block and the constant scrapping of stories that not even my bestfriends understood. Soon, my every thought began with Victor and ended with him. But, all I could do was keep it bottled inside. When I saw myself in the mirror, I was someone not worthy of him. I was always cruely reminded by people around me that I was short for my age. Everywhere I went, whispering giggles trailed my back or random girls would collide into me screaming: OMG she's so CUTE. SO TINY. SO ADORABLE. And they would disappear like it was normal to hug strangers forgetting the issue of personal space. Because of years being insulted in such a way, I began to loathe the word "Cute" whenever it was associated with me. Never, ever I want to be called 'cute'.

Victor and I continued to grow closer with thanks to the internet. Soon it became a routine for me to talk to him for at least more than 2 hours or until we both struggled to keep our eyes open. We shared family stories and when came a time for me to test my loyalty to my Step-Dad, Victor was there through the nights I was bawling my eyes. My biological father whom I haven't spoken to for more than 10yrs invited me to the wedding of my older sister to which I never knew I had. He helped with the decision that I shouldn't abandon my past and that my current father would understand. And I with that decision, I attended the most awkward wedding of my life.

Around the middle of the year, Anthony began to regualrly ask me out on dates to various places: The Arts Museum, cinema, dinasaur museum, amusement parks and so on. To which I politely declined. During one lunchtime, it was announced quite loudly by a classmate that Anthony liked me. I looked at her with an expression which could only be described as shock and turned to Victor for help. He merely shrugged: What can I do?

Near late November was my year 10 Graduation in which I completed my school certificate and became eligible to continue to grade 11 and 12. For the ceremony, I decided to change my curly hairstyle to become permanently straight. The next Sunday, I skipped along the pond that was adored by my Vietnamese school and arrived infront of Victor with my new long hair floating after me. I smiled at him questioningly: So What do you think? He glanced up at me from his book and gave me his twinkling eyes: Cute. My heart stopped. That day, I walked away with his gentle and sincere voice still lingering in my ears. Cute. Inside my heart, something bloomed.


'Am I late?'
I blink away the memories and beam at him: No, strangely you're not.
He let out a chuckle and we entered the cinema. Maybe, this wasn't a mistake after all.

(To be continued)

Nothingness

It has finally hit me. Wordless. Speechless. Writer's block. My heart has run out of things to say or rather it has become too numb to generate feeling. Emotions are the basis of my writing. I am nothing without feeling. Simply, I am nothing.

Here is a poem from the novel Looking For Alibrandi by Melina Marchetta. Its a must read. A novel about finding who you are in a mist of confusion. About change and the necessity of change in order to live.

Can you see what I see?
No I don’t think you can
I see images of nothing
and I attempt to make that
nothingness mean something
As hard as I try there is
still nothing and that nothing
is meaningless
I am somewhere else now, outside
I am surrounded by people and                             
the sky. I see the people and the
blueness of the sky
but still nothing has changed
everything remains the same
I am still alone.

           Looking for Alibrandi

Chance Encounter. . .

I am still waiting for my fated one. . .

So I start university this year at ACU (Australian Catholic University)  which wasn't my 1st choice but going to university at all is great.
At first I couldn't decide whether to choose climate science or Bach Arts because I am choosing between two passions: saving the environment and writing. In the end, I had to think realistically whether or not I will enjoy the course and whether I will survive for the next few years.
So after much consideration, I chose BA Arts.

I didn't really like the idea of going to ACU at first. It felt wrong. I wasn't Catholic, not even the slightest bit and don't plan on ditching my precious religion (Buddhism).

I am a romantic in every sense and I am always waiting and hoping for fated encounters or meeting my destined one. It is clear that I have indeed met someone but he long ago had his heart taken and I for 3 years have been watching in from afar.

I decided that university would be a great place for a new beginning and fated encounters
but the thought, 'I won't meet my fated one in such a place' ran through my mind while I waited for my course advisor. You see, I am not racist or anything but having been raised by traditional Vietnamese parents, they always wanted me to marry someone of my own race and that belief has been nailed into me since young.

However, soon through the corner of my eye, I saw a someone. He sat a few meters away from me. He was an asian boy. From where I sat, I could see him clearly and noticed something red around his neck. There is only one thing that is red that hangs around an asian's neck and that is a buddhist pendent.

I found out from him that we will be doing the same course but I don't know if we'll have the same units or same timetable. I am glad that I found someone to talk to amongst all these strangers so I hope I will be in the same classes as him.

But I realised that I never asked for his name. . .