Monday, June 27, 2005

walk into the horizon

pre-text: for someone who actively makes his dreams reality, his passion something tangible.

muse: sda

about a boy
who thought he became a man the night he turned twentyone
he knows what he knows
but he doesnt know what he doesnt know
push the boundaries of your life as you know it
out of this small town and into the world
walk into the horizon
with your sturdy guitar and dirty blue backpack
meet new people engage in deep conversations
on politics, religion and this thing we call life
read books on philosophy
and apply them wholesale to his way of living
i am no one to criticise
but it does not seem wise to me
still go on and walk into the horizon
with passion for life burning strong in you
and if you have any left at the end of the day
write a song for me, a song about me
and sing it in a small obscure cafe
tapping your feet and swaying side to side
and write me a letter every few months
so i know you are still missing me
and yes go on walking into the horizon
with your sturdy guitar and dirty blue backpack

Thursday, June 23, 2005

fall

pre-text: the many ways you can fall.

muse: sda

fell in love with you
fell into a bed of roses together with you
fell out with you
fell out of the clouds
fell onto my knees
fell from your grace
fell into your bad books
fell apart into pieces
fell into solitary without you
and
now i am falling deeper and deeper
into this abyss of unknown

oh where are you now
did you not promise to catch me when i fall?

Saturday, June 18, 2005

don't

pre-text: i am mad at him for all i mentioned...yet i can't seem to let him go. ironic. pathetic.

muse: sda

don't call me a drama queen
just because i cry everytime i think of you
isn't life a continous soap opera?
don't call me weak and lacking in confidence
when you are the one ripping it
out from within me
don't tell me to live in the moment
and you go run away from reality
each time it slaps you in the face
don't tell me you love me
when your words are empty
and your actions...they don't even exist
don't preach your life philosophies to me
because they should only apply to you
and my life is way more intense than your simple simple life
don't reach around me and hold me close
let all my emotions come spilling out
and walk away like nothing happened
don't pretend you are making sweet passionate love to me
when we both know its dwindled down
into plain detached friendly fucking
don't pretend i am the best you will ever have
cause i am just the best you have right now
and someone better will come along

most importantly
don't come back to me
because i don't want you
but i will take you back anyway.

voices

pre-text: been stuck in a rut for a long time, and have had friends tell me what i should do, what they think i should do...and of course i have 'significant' persons telling me things and then in the midst of it all, my little tiny voice within. all these just puts voices in my head!

muse: ironically, sda and all my friends who know abt the shit gg on with him

i heard what you said
or did i hear what i wanted
and interpreted what you said differently
when you meant something else
i grew accustomed to believing what you told me
good and bad, truth and lies
and now you are just playing with my mind

you care and you show it
constantly there, never pushing, just supporting
i cry, whine, bitch, scream and threaten to die
still you stand by me to remind me i am never really all alone
same old advice same old instructions
packaged in simplicity and vigourous exasperation
i've heard it all i've heard it all

florence, you are better than this you know it!
you are smart and beautiful (i am not! am i?)
you don't need a guy like him, there are better guys out there (where? where?)
you have to let go (but i love him!)
it is his loss, not yours ( but he is the one leaving me!)
fuck him fuck him and his bullshit his fucking lifestyle his fucking fucked-up attitude (yeah! fuck him!)
listen to yourself, florence, listen to yourself (yes, listen...)

shut up just shut up all of you
i cannot analyse your hidden meanings and ulterior motives
i cannot process your good-willed intentions
i cannot debate with the voices within me
i need everyone around me to keep really quiet
and let me deal with this on my own terms in my own time
but love me any way.

Monday, June 06, 2005

my father

pre-text: i wrote this for my daddy last yr but i didnt have the guts to give it to him...so im sending it in the card that im mailing home for father's day this year. i hope he likes it.

muse: my daddy!!!! :)

my father
i call him daddy, papa at times
whichever gets me my way
people say i look like my father
i have his big talking eyes
his smile, that comes from the heart
even his malay-looking skin
we both tan way too easily

my father
he is the strong, silent type
does not talk nearly as much as me, hardly ever complains
he has his ways of doing things
his stubborn way of thinking
always giving, and never asking for anything in return
everything, he takes in his stride
his nag is not constant, yet amazingly powerful

my father
taught me always to do good
never to slam doors or tables, even when angry
money, he agrees, is meant to be spent
but only wisely
he dresses in his own fashion, which isn't all that bad
he shows me what it means to be yourself and not worry about others
other wise words he often tells me are:
self-discipline, moderation, focus, respect, and family

my father
leads by example
by doing what he has to do
and what he can do
he respects my granny and my aunts
and he volunteers at charitable organizations
he continues to work hard, even at 60 for us, for me
and he is always grateful for what he has
never feeling sorry or pity for himself

my father
and i have something special, something unspoken
we understand each other in someway
i have never heard him say sorry
neither have i heard him say i love you
i guess he has other variations of his own
like we care about you, we looked after you for so long
take care of yourself, don't go out too late
we are thinking of you, the dog misses you
but i know what he means underneath all that

my father
is the first man in my life life
and most probably the most important one too
it may not always seem like the case
but i guess that is the way it goes
my father
is not the wealthiest man or the most powerful one around
but to me
he is my pillar of strength and support, and my sheild
to me, my father is the world's greatest.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

your voice your words

pre-text: sometimes silence is really the best thing to do...when you have nothing 'good' to say to each other. i always miss his voice and i would want to hear it but after we talk, i feel lousier. it is because i hear what he has to say, what his plans are and they all only make me feel like shit. i rather deal with my own voices in my head than his voice on the fone and in my head.

muse: sda

i need to shut you up
shut your voice in my head in my life
you tell me all these things
you say you mean it you say you did not mean it you say you did not mean it that way
i cannot differentiate between your truth and lies your honesty and insincerity

all i hear is your words as they come right out of your mouth
it is so loud that that i cannot think
i cannot hear myself anymore
my life is already built around you
and now my mind is conquered too

i turn your words inside out outside in
analyse in from all angles
break it down letter by letter
consider tone and context
no space left to even seek my own perspective

i am totally exhausted with you
nothing for me to say because you have heard it all
know not what to convince you of
because we have no future together
and no common ground left

losing you now is no longer a big deal
because i have nothing else left to lose.