goingsouth's Xanga

even stranger hearts

Fri, 16 May 2008 13:36:47 GMT

you know, he said, they say every piece of paper has its black spots. i could say the same for a black piece of paper. could i?

what a nice boy you are, i said.

he watched for the stars. how lovely he thought they were. i looked to him, then myself- therein lay the flickering shadow of life; how i missed that part of myself, that content boy who could not find fault in the coexisting pain and beauty of the universe. how i missed the way i did not see past end products, see past the fact that we were born into a projected universal truth. how i missed the way i viewed the heart of all things, throbbing with newfound joy. how i missed living.

versus

Fri, 16 May 2008 07:06:00 GMT

hmm, when it comes down to thinking about it, writing is not an easy thing to do.

how i used to write: thoughtlessly, happily. everything was "indefinite, but infinite". just so many theories on what was and should be. perhaps they meant nothing but they helped me greatly. i miss that. i don't have it now.

"what i’d really like now, is to wake up, go back to the day on the overhead bridge where it was hello in the drizzle. because it is times like that, in the rarest of ordinary moments i am struck with the already innate desire to be alive, truly alive. i am not alive raising my hand in class to answer a question, nor am i alive at night when i retreat into my writing. maybe writing is mimicking life; reenacting the scenes in which we were living.

i drift past yesterday and tomorrow. i am good, i step onto the bus, into the ritual of yesterday and tomorrow. i am yesterday and tomorrow, and today i am no different. i spend time reading, but what a stupid book life is, opening to us relentlessly or intrinsically (i can’t possibly tell which) page after page. and still, the tiny stem that is god, opens to the wind its adamant leaves."

"today i was clearing my inbox and found a multitude of drafts. the complexity of mundane treasure: things unsent, things that weren’t me enough, things that were so me that i was afraid to show you. i have too many things constantly cluttering my mind, and although they may not be foremost in the grand scheme of things, they etch their tiny lives into my vessels and productivity, from the moment i wake (wanting to stay forever in bed), to the moments between moments before assembly, where we sit content in muffled blankness, to the moments in class when i am silent, drawing my hands to my head; drawing the world to my thoughts.

i am wakeful at night, a hard and beautiful time for i am alone. the rain doesn’t help, the humidity and warm puddles are like fits of forgetfulness that fiercely sever my words and intentions. buying flowers is harder (even though he said he knew that anyway, they’d all die), it takes longer than usual, and when walking from class to class there is a lethargy that pulls at my shoes. and the school jacket, even the school crest, seems heavier- it is something becoming more and more difficult to wear."

"i do not know you but it would suffice to say that i love you, with an infinite deal of tenderness, and yes, i love you walking me down the stairs into the night (for lifts are something i understand, you dislike), yes i love you next to me (for if words do not speak then the stifling intimacy will), i love your hands around me, for they are secure, and the warmth they spread takes a slow sensory cruise through my body, through my mind, to be set free, impetuously, by that smile on my face."

"the park is a great equaliser. today i revisited the boredom, the daydreams the emotionally-charged habitation of my past. the trees, the sun swinging through the breeze and the dead grass where the boys play soccer. i saw ben the ice-cream man, i let my words wander through the wind. and i let dead things amble, leased to the wind. and i left the rose at the table by the big trees, to be swept away by some other godforsaken story but my own."

efface the footsteps in the sand

Mon, 05 May 2008 10:04:39 GMT

miscellaneous funny happy photos.

i miss my friends
and aw i'm so happy feifei is gonna buy stuff back from italy for us!!!!!!
xoxoxoxo.

things have changed (have i as well?), yes, but since the day we sat on the road at night and the massive truck parked itself in front of us, it's been okay. so i got up, dusted the heaviness from my shoulders, and walked deep into the smooth black night. not the same cool dusted evenings i used to know, but a new kind of firm dry heat, less lyrical too.
it was okay.

i went back to the sea too, there's something about the sea at night that stirs that sharp wave of memory within me; something more deep and mysterious than i have ever known. i remember how my sister used to crawl past the railings surrounding the singapore river and beckon, scared though i was of falling in. i remember that. the aftertaste of the languid noon resting upon the beaten grounds. the city lights and the black river, once too overwhelming and lovely for me, now mere afterthoughts on the water's surface. the memories of beauty no less sublime.

kites

Thu, 01 May 2008 09:28:36 GMT

lucinda black bear, very very obscure band. here are the lyrics, don't know if i got them wrong. they're so obscure their lyrics aren't available on the web.

Call out the sand,
the camouflaged land
twilight and dreams
give it a name
to hold you in.

and everyone's there
the back of her hair
guessing what kind of face
she'll have
when she turns around

lost wandering
gathered in sand
take off the sun
with your name
spilt in smoky grays

and haven't you heard
the tune has gone dead
and we'll have kites
always in hand, always in hand.

mayday

Thu, 01 May 2008 07:41:05 GMT

these few days have been wonderful, i feel as if i'm under the shade, at the foot of a mountain, with all the glorious friends and days of the world surrounding me, and happiness at the peak like a flatfooted giant, tumbling down to meet us.

(yet, how it pains me to say: happiness would not have come to meet me a time ago, i would climb up, desperate to reach it, and lay my tired arms on it. how wonderful it would be then, were i to declare it, wholly, utterly mine.)

pure timing

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 02:50:24 GMT

why am i afraid of letting you down?

hiatus.

feeling for snow

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 09:50:22 GMT

goodbye, miss daisies and butterflies!
pack sunshine.

♥♥,
Lynette

pedestals

Mon, 10 Mar 2008 12:37:41 GMT

what is it, after all, that we understand of each other?
time to pray and be well.

I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Soft and warm continuing
Tapping on my roof and walls.

And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets
To England where my heart lies.

My mind's distracted and diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you're asleep
And kiss you when you start your day.

And as a song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme.

And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you.

And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you go I.

arena season 2

Sat, 01 Mar 2008 08:19:52 GMT

HWA CHONG INSTITUTION
TEAM NAME: TENACIOUS TYGERS
MOTTO: WHAT HAND DARES SEIZE OUR FIRE?

Haha frick I'm sure la!

hello ladiessss.

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 09:39:32 GMT