Saturday, December 02, 2006
Goodnight My Angel
And save these questions for another day I think I know what you've been asking me I think you know what I've been trying to say I promised I would never leave you And you should always know Where ever you may go No matter where you are I never will be far away I walked into the old section of One Utama today. I was meant to be here today. I was meant to be here, waiting for someone to finish work and when he finished at 4 p.m., we were meant to walk hand in hand as the sun set far away. Perhaps we would have had something in Bakerzin. Maybe do our dirty laundry in Laundry. I could have sat next to him, like I used to sit in the DJ console so long ago. Maybe I would have walked and shopped all day, being the usual independent spirit that I am. Instead I walked alone today, aimlessly among the crowd of people. I could not decide if the turn of fate was to my side. Or was fate just playing an evil game on me. Up and down the escalators, my little self just walked on by. There was always life in a crowd of people and if you hold out your hand long enough, you would feel life sweeping past you. I imagined us dancing and laughing in Slippery Senorita. We would have been there and we would have been free. I imagined walking around the tiny Pearl of the Orient during the day, looking for pigeons nesting quietly in old houses while he was working. I imagined smelling spices and looking at an old drunk beggar sleeping by the ancient streets. Instead on Saturday I nursed myself in bed alone. I was too sick to protest what fate had offered me on a platter. “I told you never to contact me unless I contact you first. My girlfriend read your message. She is watching us and now we cannot talk anymore.” I imagine my last words were the very reasons why he has walked into my life for the past six years and why I kept him in mine for the equal amount of time – “I understand”. It was the end. And still so many things I want to say Remember all the songs you sang for me When we went sailing on an emerald bay And like a boat out on the ocean I'm rocking you to sleep The water's dark and deep Inside this ancient heart You'll always be a part of me I was asked to join the Pantene search seven times today. I laughed and shook my head whenever they did. I reluctantly told some of them how old I was as some of them persistently walked with me as I walked away. “How old can you be?” “I am 30.” “You sure or not?” they said with that suspicious look written all over their faces. I cannot decide whether that was a compliment or an insult. I smiled thinking about this. Someone walked through the door some weeks ago and said that I should join the Pantene search too. Three seconds later, he said “Shit, you are too old to participate!” I had that disdained look that said “is that meant to be a compliment because I don’t think it is.” He laughed and patted me on the head, realising what he had said did not come out the way he intended it to be. He tried to explain as we walked towards the Japanese restaurant for dinner. I was enjoying the fact that he was fussing over me. That was the last time I watched him fall gently into a deep slumber and that was also the last time while he was asleep, his hand instinctively searched for mine. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found what he searched for, when his hand was holding mine. It was 6:42 a.m. on 31st October. I have watched him sleep many times. He looked like a child each time he closed his eyes. When he sleeps, these voyeuristic eyes of mine witness how all his defences melt away. All that he was left was this child that needed a cuddle. I wondered if she had watched him sleep and saw that he was a child inside too. I have drawn so near, so close to his ears and taken deep breathes so as to immortalise him in me. He will remain a part of me till the next time we meet again. It was the faint smell of baby powder or perhaps even a powdery Issay Miyake. I have gently touched his nose and studied every line and curve on his face. Sometimes he would wake. Each time this happened, he opened one eye, managed a slight smile and patted my head. “Go to sleep.” It was cocoon paradise. And dream how wondeful your life will be Someday your child will cry and if you sing this lullaby Then in your heart there will always be a part of me Someday we'll all be gone But lullabies go on and on They never die that's how you and I will be I woke up this morning, with my mop chopped hair crowding my eyes. I dreamt. I remember that I did. I remember that I was preparing for BestGuyFriend’s wedding on the 16th. I remember that a lady helped me to prepare for the wedding. I was lying naked on the bed, in a pristine white room. The curtains swayed gently against the breeze at the foot my bed. The lady was standing next to me and her fingers were nimbly pressing acupuncture points. I moaned in ecstasy as I usually would during a massage. I am a very tactile person and even as a child, I have always enjoyed massages. In this lucid dream, my love petals swelled to crimson red and my eyes fluttered. She leaned over and whispered into my ears. I shook my head as my body squirmed. I was fighting and a second later I was relenting. As I opened my eyes, I saw her burying her face between my legs and the dream felt so real that I thought I felt the sensation of a warm tongue gently threading down to my secret garden in this physical world. I reached out and with a trembling right hand, I protested and pushed her away. “Just relax,” she said as she drew near me again. She crept slowly like a serpent snaking up my legs. “I love you, Otto. You know I love you. Just relax.” “I can’t relax. I will never be relaxed,” I said as my hands slid down. I sighed as I pleasured myself. She laid by my side as I said to her in my dream that there was only one man who could satisfy my soul and quench my sex. And as the waves of orgasm rushed to me, I called his name. The dream was so distinct that I remember every little detail, even the sensation of a woman’s tongue on my scarlet bud. And I remember the name I had subconsciously mentioned in my first same-sex dream. I remember the name of the man who satisfied me so completely that I cannot have another, not even the sweet taste of a woman’s soft tongue. I remember the name of the man who fulfilled my every need and the name did not belong to him. I caught a glimpse of him sitting on a makeshift box in a corner. His eyes were focused. It was always nice to watch him work, with his work-self being more reliable than he usually would be. It was the one time when he was sharp and disciplined. Instead of the usual me - running towards him and feeling all excited and happy - I turned around and walked away silently in my magenta tulip skirt. “My chapters are written and my book’s complete. Goodnight, my angel. It’s time for me to go. Someday you and I will be gone but words will stay on and on. Words will never die and that’s how you and I will be.” *** Related Links |
about your post on wednesday- maybe the whole feminist [did i spell it correctly??] movement was in fact started by the men who were tired of being the breadwinners cause they have to provide for everything. imagine how convenient it would be if they can divide everything by half, especially money. and i bet that they said they would do some household chores to make it sound good. but them liars never make good of their word cause we're still doing at least 75% of e household chores- not the half they promise.
hahs. crap =D
ava: and i think you're an uneducated uninformed unexposed bitter woman who lives in a small village....why don't you wake up and smell the f*uckin roses (excuse my language).
if you opened your eyes and widened you narrow thinkin a little....you would realise that a LOT of the young women these days have NO CLUE AT ALL on how to do household chores.....(mind you i did not say ALL young women). in fact when i was overseas some years ago...almost 75% of the girls studying abroad at the time did not even know how to do simple things like laundry, cook, let alone clean the house. SOME male dominated student houses were surprisingly cleaner/neater than their female counterparts. there were of course exceptions to this as there always is.
don't go around with your stereotypical "male bashing" if you have no inkling on what you're talkin about. its women like you who are the cause of all this male vs female mentality. none of us are perfect and if you think any of us are you're the biggest IDIOT around.
otto arnt u going 2 comment on t above? been reading yr blog n its been getting heated lately. I think u wld say: make love not war. So come on readers stop condemning each others comments.
Anon
When I clicked on Ava's link, it led me to a page which listed the girl as being a 16 year old.
I try to remember who I was when I was 16 and all that I remember of myself was innocence. I also remember arguing with my parents a lot because I thought I knew everything.
Many girls these days are far wiser at a younger age. I do not know whether I am happy for them or I'd cry for their lost of innocence.
So as far I am concerned, Ava can write whatever she wishes. Her perceptions are those of a 16 year old girl and you cannot fault her for being 16.
Do you think ANNN is getting all heated up? I have been writing to almost nil comments/feedbacks. It is nice to receive some, even if they are discussing the issue passionately.
It only proves that my readers are a smart bunch =)
otto am not the same anon as t second anon.am the 3rd anon. i just thought how she responded 2 ava was way 2 harsh with uncalled 4 bad language.she may be right saying some men promise but never do it. yes hot! people can comment n rebut but do it respectfully. and not hurt other people's feelings or how they perceive things. w all hv our reasons why we perceive differently.what say u?