My Manna - Part III.

Dearest My Manna,

I share with you my song. The song I have been keeping in the dark for someone who could hush away all the silent screams underneath. I searched for you in every chance I came across, I prepared myself for all the mad follies of despair, I masked all the weaknesses in a make-believe courage. Alas, the walls came tumbling down and you found the delicate thread with which the recesses to my core was pulled.

I had so many things to say to you but all of those things, huge and explosive, broke into smaller insignificant froth popping into the empty air filled so pleasantly heavy with your presence. You are my garden, abundant with blooming daisies and green pastures painting delights to my heart. You are the bewilderment of joy and sorrow I sometimes wish was surreal. I wish I never knew you at all. Because now the angels you have summoned so forcefully have spread their wings in an uncontrollable manner that I have to muster all strength within me to keep them calm again.



*Then we sat on our own star, and dreamed of the way that we were, and the way that we were meant to be. Then we sat on our own star, and dreamed of the way I was for you, and you were for me. Then we long to dance the night away, and turn into each other saying "I love you, baby, I love you" the way young lovers do...

A peek.

The Little Black Book

Why?

Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. Live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually without even noticing it, live your way into the answers.

-Letter to a Young Poet
Rainer Maria Rilke

Oh my Lolita!

I keep thinking of my Lolita - the one which I lost in Singapore, along with the stalk of pink rose I almost sloppily let slip from my hand. How reckless of me to allow such deplorable chance to happen!

Looking back, I realised that there exist different facets in your Life which you are habitually thankful of. And while I sigh in abundance with clear and great gladness that I, in fact, managed to save the pink rose from falling into an undeserving hand, I still cannot stop being so bothered about my Lolita - please, where do I find her replacement?

Back brace needed.

Backbone is fractured. In no-one to confide.

My Manna - Part II.

The taxi halted, putting a grind to my train of thoughts. Almost automatically, I had a violent vision about the driver for sequestering the world I had so perfect in mind and shattering my dreams into tiny snowflakes against a summer's day.

This is for my Manna.

The kiss which remains perpetually unfinished lingers on my chapped lips. It is to be sought out again - the taste upon my lips, the deep laceration of your tongue going straight into the deep recesses of my heart. I miss the tangled taste of your cigarette smoke and body heat leaving me gasping for air, your stained breath on my chest arrested by the sudden utterance of guilt and the stop of rain wetting the cracked Earth recalling us into reality.

I love your lullabies. And I miss them. I miss the convolution we shared when I opened my foggy eyes and stared into yours, looking for an earthquake which would devour all my fears and which froze all sense of time. At that moment, I felt my body floating mid-air in an unknown place and in motion, swaying from left to right to the point of forceful shake until the end of the rain broke the adventures we braved for.

You are my lull in the storm - the pacification I have been chasing after my whole life. You are my Orpheus as much as I am yours. Maybe a whole lot much more.

We embarked and disembarked from a journey. A never ending journey from midnight to dawn and to midnight again, searching for that moments which would translate into one moment that lasts a lifetime. Perhaps we have been asleep, perhaps I have been wheedled too much. In the end, there was no tomorrow- only the sound of crackling hearts and the rattling of a closed door.