Saturday, September 16, 2006
Little pleasures
A boy at the library let his hand glide smoothly along the white railing as he walked ahead. Amelie sinks her fingers into pots of beans. Nowadays I like typing silly things in exact ways.
Welcome to a morning where you jump out of bed like you’re in your pjs going to eat peanut butter with toast made by your mother
Welcome to your bathroom that has melted from the sanitized shithole it used to be in the frozen sad mornings, into a fresh sanctuary where you can smell juicy soaps and sprinkle powder like snow on the tiled floor
I asked my auntie if my grandmother cried when they sent her off to study overseas and she said my grandmother didn't but my grandfather did! I wish he were alive. Thinking of what juanita said in her speech on dreams about how dreaming about death is a way of coping with the death of a loved one, gives me goosebumps. Like today when everyone was clapping for each of the performers at the end of forbidden city. Theatre makes people soar.
This reminds me of the persh creek family, the travelling band family that we saw at surfers paradise. They were awesome and magical like a twinkling mirage. Just where are they now? I really wish I knew. Try this someday, pretending you are going travelling, try to fit everything that really means anything into a rectangular old suitcase, see if you can. Then don't unpack anything besides clothes and treat that suitcase as the thing to salvage in case of fire in your house.
Last week:
I forgot Johnny
Tell him I'm sorry
But at least I had Lex
Sexy lex
Mohawk man with lizard eyes
moled at 9/16/2006 09:37:00 AM
Sunday, September 10, 2006
The very old man in my neighbourhood died. He was 99 and would be 100 next month. Even though he walks (and I'm not even exaggerating) at a speed that is...lemme test....3 seconds per metre, he'd walk to 7-11 everyday to buy bread when he was still able to. I think he was still doing that early this year. His black cloth shoes would scrape a little on the ground and he'd walk with a slouch and bent knees and you have to shout at him for him to hear you. He was there since I was wee. He was part of the childhood of every child in that neighbourhood who looked out their window one day and noticed the really, really, really slow-walking little old man, and who would look out their window at other times just to marvel at his speed (or extreme lack thereof). Well, see ye, old man. The neighbourhood will miss you.
Oh it's such a chilly Sunday. The kind that makes you wish you were a kid again or that you had some bachelor pad in a faraway country. I find myself either being obsessed with something or wishing I were doing something else or in someplace else, most of the time. It's like a disease I gave myself. On a more positive (?) note, these past few days have been somewhat characterised by the things me and my father bought me, who doesn't really deserve all this. But they were all good things and I'm not ashamed to be proud of my recounting of such (materialistic) buys (except one of them). Bob Dylan's cd, the most beautiful blue mosaic butterfly-shaped table, kelly genes, and my first new handphone in 4 years.
"Ye know, it's really naw-ice teh find yer soulmate" said Steve Irwin
moled at 9/10/2006 01:40:00 AM
