This is a simple story. A story about how the 4 seasons began; a Queen and a King who ruled over two different lands of eternal Spring and Winter, respectively. I am the traveller, the story-teller who has had the immense pleasure of knowing them both. Here is their story.
In the land of eternal Spring, a Queen reigns proud and strong. She is the essence of Spring, the embodiment of all life. Her name means exactly that: Full of Life. In her warming presence, each gentle step melts away the night's chill, renewing life in her wake. Her kindness and her giving nature embraces all forms of life, great and small. No part is unimportant in her eyes, no one should ever be left out of her rejuvinating reign. Even the most stubborn hermits eventually yield to her sunshine. Her presence is celebrated by all civilisation, and her coming always herald new life and happiness in all her subjects' minds.
To the White King we now go. He reigned upon his throne of ice within his kingdom of white. Few had ever been allowed to have, much less survive, an audience with this monarch. Legends foretell of the cold bitter months in his kingdom, where black and white ruled side by side. By day, the King's castle was a blinding, collosal sculpture of crystal -- unequalled throughout the kingdom for its natural beauty and strength. The snow always covered up the injustices of the night, renewing life upon a blanket of white. By night, the fotress loomed like a dark sword across its kingdom of moonlight silver snow. Nightly snow always sought out disloyal subjects, freezing them into beautiful but deadly sculptures. The king was always dressed in magnificent white fur coats, though many say that he does so only to hide his black heart. The unatural snow that ruled this kingdom were once said to be his tears, a tough love that hardens his subjects and carves out some of the most beautiful natural terrain ever known. A trying place, indeed, but only if you're afraid of the cold, for beauty was always said to be the king's first love.
And did the King and Queen meet? Surely, they must have, for both kingdoms were vast and undeniable. Ancient folk-lore rumoured of wars once fought between these two monarchs, each wanting to claim the other kingdom for their own, in the name of their envisioned ideals. Though both King and Queen never spoke of the truth behind these rumours, I sensed from them both a hidden truth and sadness. This was expected, for this war between kingdoms had existed for a long time. However, it was not until I saw for myself these rumoured battlefields that I understood why.
At the boundary of the two kingdoms lay the source of true beauty. This "war" which the ancient story tellers spoke of was no more than the magical meeting between the unique landscapes of the two kingdoms. The soldiers of Spring and Winter were no more than the liquid gold of sun rays and the cooling waves of gentle snow flakes. The blood that flowed forth from the clashes was life-giving nectar -- water. Upon these fields lay a greater diversity of life and landscape than could never be found in either kingdom alone.
Where the Spring Queen's warm smile met the cool charm of the White King, her liquid fire lighted the spring fields, yielding a charging season of heat and sweetness. This season was Summer. This season was beautiful, for it was where the Queen's power shone to its fullest potential. Her warm steps and carrass ceased to merely urge life forward, but commanded life to wake and listen to her. With each wave, her hand sent forth the glorious birds of prey and bustling evergreen vegetation to colonise all that was hers, and to protect her fragile Spring fields. Summer was a land of brilliance, passion and ambition. The Queen was happy with Summer.
The White King sat stubbornly in his Winter kingdom, and sought to match the Queen's Summer. With measured grace and dignity, he sent forth his warriors in relentless waves, seeking to weaken the Summer heat. It seemed for a while that the sun would soon be drained of its heat as each cold wave crashed upon its shores of evergreen trees. The animals of Summer retreated from these waves, but in their place came others -- those who were able to adapt to the winds and the cold. However, the White King still seemed to be quickly gaining ground. The heat and dampness of Summer mellowed, combined with the dryness of the Winter winds set the forests ablaze in a slow, brilliant nova of orange, copper and brown. Young trees became yellow in the warmth, while their elders coughed and shook their coper crowns in the mild weather. Autumn was born, in all its metallic splendor. The White King was pleased with Autumn, because it was colder than Summer.
It seemed that the ancient rumours had been hiding something else. My youthful and adventurous eye told me that there was probably another reason that the White King loved Autumn -- why he had not sought to create a land of "Summer" for himself. The King loved Autumn because he loved the Queen, and sought only to balance her natural beauty with his cold alchemy. It was during preparations for "war", the King had commanded his subjects that the essence of his kingdom was not cold and bitterness, but the essential balance to the heat of life. With that in mind, he told his most trusted generals: "Go forth, to calm the heat of Summer and cool its inhabitants, so that they might understand the beauties of our land. Show them that they can still burn without fire, shine without light and be alive without hot passion."
Autumn was born of both kingdoms. And Autumn was beautiful.
===========================
I know a girl. She is fast becoming a woman, and eventually a queen. She is beautiful, and her name tells all about her: Full of Life. She is free and she is beautiful. She bears upon all like the sun -- hot, glowing with passion and charming as Spring. Everyone smiles in her warmth. Her relentless and fun-loving nature makes her irresistible. I love her.
I am like Winter to this girl -- colder, harder and darker. I shine without the sun, for my snow is both delicate and hard. My seasonal processes are like ice, hard and transparent. Snow erases the tracks and shapes the ice. Storms and rain cover all that is ugly and unclean. But frequently, the scars remain and my heart is frostbitten.
Where we meet, it is Summer. Where we linger, it is Autumn. Back and forth we flow. Where we meet, everything should be beautiful. But because we travel, I sometimes find myself uncomfortable in her Spring showers and heat, longing for the clarity of ice. And she too, finds my palace too solid, too unforgiving, too cold to the touch. But it's these very reasons that we are different. These are the seasons we lived in. These were the reasons we loved the seasons.
These are the reasons why we can and also should be happy. Seated in our own thrones, it will be hard to understand why the other could not move to change. When we truely meet, and shed our crowns, we will see that we are the same, that we belonged with the seasons.
This story is dedicated to her, and to us. And to the enduring happiness that we shared and will continue to share.
: )
JKLM
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
Don't Stop Dancing
At times life is wicked
And I just can't see the light
A silver lining sometimes just isn't enough
To make some wrong seem right
Whatever life brings
I've been through everything
And now I'm on my knees
But I know I must go on
Although I've heard I must be strong
Because inside I know
That many feel this way
Children, don't stop dancing
Believe, you can fly
Away
Away
I've got to get away; I need a break. The past few months have been stumbling forward at an uncomfortable pace. I can't hardly keep up. A bad mix of insomnia, tears, words, alcohol, loss of appetite, anxiety and damned insecurities have mixed me up like a banana in a blender. Sometimes I wonder if I've had a chance at all during this tricky transition period. I messing up inside, big time. It's no wonder I'm shrinking. Kiat, you silly boy... You damned fool. My belief in chivalry and all the honourable traditional values have led me to nothing but heartbreak... Yet I'm stubbornly holding onto them, hoping that they would withstand the relentless waves of time and change. I find that I can't move; I don't know how to.
And I just can't see the light
A silver lining sometimes just isn't enough
To make some wrong seem right
Whatever life brings
I've been through everything
And now I'm on my knees
But I know I must go on
Although I've heard I must be strong
Because inside I know
That many feel this way
Children, don't stop dancing
Believe, you can fly
Away
Away
I've got to get away; I need a break. The past few months have been stumbling forward at an uncomfortable pace. I can't hardly keep up. A bad mix of insomnia, tears, words, alcohol, loss of appetite, anxiety and damned insecurities have mixed me up like a banana in a blender. Sometimes I wonder if I've had a chance at all during this tricky transition period. I messing up inside, big time. It's no wonder I'm shrinking. Kiat, you silly boy... You damned fool. My belief in chivalry and all the honourable traditional values have led me to nothing but heartbreak... Yet I'm stubbornly holding onto them, hoping that they would withstand the relentless waves of time and change. I find that I can't move; I don't know how to.
I'm sorry to have caused you such worry and compounded your frustrations earlier. You were right all along. I think too much, regardless of need, time and place. And it doesn't help now that there are but a few stabilising factors left in my life visa vis before graduation. But your infectious confidence tells me that we will have our time, and that we will find one another again. I'm trying my very best. For you.
At times life's unfair
And you know it's plain to see
You got to know that I'm just a dot in this world
Have you forgot about me?
Whatever life brings
I've been through everthing
And now I'm on my knees
But I know I must go on
Although I've heard I must be strong
Because inside I know
That many feel this way
Children, don't stop dancing
Believe, you can fly
Away
Away
Am I hiding in the shadows?
Forget the pain and
Forget the sorrow
Am I hiding in the shadows?
Forget the pain and
Forget the sorrow
But I know I must go on
Although I've heard that I must go on
Because inside I know
That many feel this way
Children, don't stop dancing
Believe, you can fly
Away
Away
~ "Don't Stop Dancing" by Creed.
PS: This isn't an unhappy entry. I'm just telling it as it is. Give me some time, and I'll find another more well-adjusted and humorous way to look at the problem.
JKLM
Friday, August 18, 2006
We Are One
A year ago, there were a puzzle of activities that paved the way from me to you.
In the lonely darkness of a room, your digital salvation whispered a tune of home while you dreamt, unknown of the poetic eye that fed upon this magic. And yet, when you awoke, a space beside and a space within you had opened up for me. Afraid that I was too monstrous for your kindness, I crept up beside you; your trusting nature whisper a tune -- a tune that sounded so much like home.
In the electrical storm and unheard thunder of a many gathered youthful hearts, you held my hand and stole my breath. Twice. And my heart still hungers for that moment when we lingered upon our racing heartbeats -- at the eye of the storm. Every touch of your ivory hands, every twitch of your purposeful instruments, still sends a little current through my weathered heart.
Welcome to my world. Won't you come on in.
As time flew, so we grew -- together and discovered a chemistry that books were written on. So sure were we, that nothing could be more lovely, or simply more worthy. All the times in the past that you were so undeservingly wronged, I had offered and threatened to put it right. So blind was my heroism, because your approving giggles always made me feel justified.
It's not much different now; now that we are one year happier. One year more learned about the other person and ourself. Perhaps this is how we will finally become the other half. Old theories and chatter have made it a cliche, but since nothing would be a cliche when it's happening to you... I'd wait for that moment. Again, our bond is still what some books are made out of -- perhaps more of the self-help type these days ; )
Romance? Yup, it's still there. I still wanna spoil you, in spite of my better judgement. I still rhyme for you. Each day, I still choose to love you. You still shower me with your acceptance and care. You still look at me with a cheerful (anymore-and-you-would-be-staring) intensity.
Trust? A fragile seed within each of us. Now it's truely begun to grow. Only now, we just need to give it time and a nuturing environment.
A year. A step forward, together.
A year happier.
A year wiser.
A year more fearful to loose what we have.
A beginning, to many greater things.
Meet you at the next stop, baby ; ) Happy Anniversary.
JKLM
In the lonely darkness of a room, your digital salvation whispered a tune of home while you dreamt, unknown of the poetic eye that fed upon this magic. And yet, when you awoke, a space beside and a space within you had opened up for me. Afraid that I was too monstrous for your kindness, I crept up beside you; your trusting nature whisper a tune -- a tune that sounded so much like home.
In the electrical storm and unheard thunder of a many gathered youthful hearts, you held my hand and stole my breath. Twice. And my heart still hungers for that moment when we lingered upon our racing heartbeats -- at the eye of the storm. Every touch of your ivory hands, every twitch of your purposeful instruments, still sends a little current through my weathered heart.
Welcome to my world. Won't you come on in.
As time flew, so we grew -- together and discovered a chemistry that books were written on. So sure were we, that nothing could be more lovely, or simply more worthy. All the times in the past that you were so undeservingly wronged, I had offered and threatened to put it right. So blind was my heroism, because your approving giggles always made me feel justified.
It's not much different now; now that we are one year happier. One year more learned about the other person and ourself. Perhaps this is how we will finally become the other half. Old theories and chatter have made it a cliche, but since nothing would be a cliche when it's happening to you... I'd wait for that moment. Again, our bond is still what some books are made out of -- perhaps more of the self-help type these days ; )
Romance? Yup, it's still there. I still wanna spoil you, in spite of my better judgement. I still rhyme for you. Each day, I still choose to love you. You still shower me with your acceptance and care. You still look at me with a cheerful (anymore-and-you-would-be-staring) intensity.
Trust? A fragile seed within each of us. Now it's truely begun to grow. Only now, we just need to give it time and a nuturing environment.
A year. A step forward, together.
A year happier.
A year wiser.
A year more fearful to loose what we have.
A beginning, to many greater things.
Meet you at the next stop, baby ; ) Happy Anniversary.
JKLM
Beauty
"Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time." ~ Albert Camus.
I felt like a king just yesterday, at the hair salon. The service staff were well-trained, and their hands were blessed little workers of miracles. From the preparatory hair wash, to the cutting, styling and eventual presentation of their work of art, not a moment passed when I didn't feel honoured and at the same time humbled by these artists.
What more, the glorious work of art that is your hair?
Such subtly and maturity in the choice of colours. Layers of rich darkness hiding their precious metallic core like dark lace over a bronze bust. The somber shine of your crown glistened like freshly melted dark chocolate, crumbling tastefully to yield the youthful scatter of bronze, orange and blonde. Behind this dark curtain, waves of old gold and unrefined silver seemed to flow forth from the very root of the fount. For a moment, it seemed like the earth was yielding forth these treasures that refused to remain hidden any longer; entire families of precious metals bubbled and flowed forth from deep within these dark vaults. Oh, the flow of colours quite nearly made me tear.
I guess I couldn't just tell you all these things while you were wrapped up in that synthetic salon spacesuit, still unsure of how you should feel about this parade you were handed. I'm sure that even if I could, it wouldn't have been appropriate. That's why I came up with that crap about the treasure map, islands rising from the dark seas and the legendary bounties that the sea horded.
"Too much pirates for you..."
Perhaps... perhaps...
I guess you'd still change your mind keeping that hair anyway : )
JKLM
I felt like a king just yesterday, at the hair salon. The service staff were well-trained, and their hands were blessed little workers of miracles. From the preparatory hair wash, to the cutting, styling and eventual presentation of their work of art, not a moment passed when I didn't feel honoured and at the same time humbled by these artists.
What more, the glorious work of art that is your hair?
Such subtly and maturity in the choice of colours. Layers of rich darkness hiding their precious metallic core like dark lace over a bronze bust. The somber shine of your crown glistened like freshly melted dark chocolate, crumbling tastefully to yield the youthful scatter of bronze, orange and blonde. Behind this dark curtain, waves of old gold and unrefined silver seemed to flow forth from the very root of the fount. For a moment, it seemed like the earth was yielding forth these treasures that refused to remain hidden any longer; entire families of precious metals bubbled and flowed forth from deep within these dark vaults. Oh, the flow of colours quite nearly made me tear.
I guess I couldn't just tell you all these things while you were wrapped up in that synthetic salon spacesuit, still unsure of how you should feel about this parade you were handed. I'm sure that even if I could, it wouldn't have been appropriate. That's why I came up with that crap about the treasure map, islands rising from the dark seas and the legendary bounties that the sea horded.
"Too much pirates for you..."
Perhaps... perhaps...
I guess you'd still change your mind keeping that hair anyway : )
JKLM
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Panacea
I must have been a bad boy today, because I'm sick... Down with a fever, aching joints and swollen tonsils. Yup, even swallowing can be such a chore. Now I'm beginning to know how you feel, what more with your sensitive throat.
Then again, I must have done something good too because I was given a healthy dose (make that two) of infectious happiness from two young kids at my Grandma's birthday dinner. My they have grown... And just as I suspected, I could barely keep up with their nuclear-powered appetite for fun. After 15 minutes of play, pretend and kissing (gosh, these kids are affectionate), the fever was nowhere in sight. In fact, it wasn't until I had reached home and curled up on my bed that I felt the fever return. It seemed as if rivers of Sahara sand were grinding their way through my limbs, setting each join ablaze with a coarse, rumbling heat.
Could you imagine living with these... these... kids? Hahaha... I'm sure it'd turn out to be a different story by then. But, oh for the sweet and careless abandon of a 6 year old. Her easy-going unadultered trust and hunger for fun simply sweeps aside all things in her path (and mine, literally). How many times have you had the pleasure of a bubbly 6-year old girl come diving into your arms, shortly scrambling up your half-buckled knees to seal her vice-like grip on your waitst? Haha... never mind that she was wearing a skirt. She seemed as if she could be wearing nothing for she cared. Several times, I had to remind myself not to be as restricted as I would normally be with "grown-ups" when I played with her. So genuine, so fraglie, yet so fiercely alive. Her youth infected me, and for a while, I was in love with her.
I dread the day she would get hurt. Musing to my brother in the car, I remarked: "give her a few more years and she wouldn't even come near me." Haha... how true. We all grow up, just that some of us refuse to grow old.
The boy was a slightly different story, though. He longed for a playmate, but was already beginning to feel inadequate around his female peer. However this inhibition was short-lived -- because once this crazy cousin of theirs began running around like a madman, arms waving in the air, he was joining in the fun like a rugby scrum-head. Pretty soon, our two cheeky pumpkins were slapping one another's bottoms and trying to peep down one another's shirt. Bad mistake.... cos before I knew it, they were tugging at my polo t-shirt too. Kids....
I guess I'll have two more reasons to keep the faith in my extended family -- these kids, and their parents. Watching them change and grow year after year at these gatherings, I found myself lost for words for fool-proof child upbringing solutions and mantras. Truth be told, I hated the quick temperedness of my parent's generation, and as a result I swore never to follow in their footsteps. However, I realise that children are a tough nut to crack without some show of authority from the adults. Not that we need to oppress them, but we need to show them who's in charge, and show them who they can trust. Heck, eventually they're gonna look back and say something like, "I wanna be just like that (I hope)."
All in all, I had a fantastic dinner because of the kids. It's nice to know that there are people you can really talk and have fun with in your extended family. The rest of the adults? Haha... They're a different story. Not today; I'm not in a PR mood today.
---------------------------------------------------
Caught the NDP pre-parade festivities on TV today. I loved it! All 15 minutes of all I watched from behind slitty eyes while curled up on the TV couch. Never mind the fact that the screen was somewhat horizontal and I wasn't feeling too good. :)
This year's parade and festivities simply overwhelmed Kallang, and for the first time as an audience, I envy the people on-site now. How I wish I could be there to be immersed and swept away in this wave of optimism and patriotism. So much effort, such beautiful smiles and emotions -- this is truely what a national day is about.
I was just in time to catch a brass band's parade opening performance. FANTASTIC!
The coordination, the smiles, the trust in their conductor, the magic of their suspended confidence... All stirred up into a melting-pot of loud jubilant music. I swear I almost cried. As I watched a row of drum-sticks rain down their commanding strokes on those white skins in unison, I was filled with a deep admiration and appreciation for their efforts. I wanted to clap for their effort, to applaude their beautiful performance. Ah... and I remember that you were once in such a position. What were those years like?
-------------------------------------------------------
As I type down the last bits of my thoughts for the evening, I anticipate the woody slumber I will soon undertake with the help of a little white pill. I hope that I get better tomorrow. There's tonnes of things waiting for us to do.
JKLM
Then again, I must have done something good too because I was given a healthy dose (make that two) of infectious happiness from two young kids at my Grandma's birthday dinner. My they have grown... And just as I suspected, I could barely keep up with their nuclear-powered appetite for fun. After 15 minutes of play, pretend and kissing (gosh, these kids are affectionate), the fever was nowhere in sight. In fact, it wasn't until I had reached home and curled up on my bed that I felt the fever return. It seemed as if rivers of Sahara sand were grinding their way through my limbs, setting each join ablaze with a coarse, rumbling heat.
Could you imagine living with these... these... kids? Hahaha... I'm sure it'd turn out to be a different story by then. But, oh for the sweet and careless abandon of a 6 year old. Her easy-going unadultered trust and hunger for fun simply sweeps aside all things in her path (and mine, literally). How many times have you had the pleasure of a bubbly 6-year old girl come diving into your arms, shortly scrambling up your half-buckled knees to seal her vice-like grip on your waitst? Haha... never mind that she was wearing a skirt. She seemed as if she could be wearing nothing for she cared. Several times, I had to remind myself not to be as restricted as I would normally be with "grown-ups" when I played with her. So genuine, so fraglie, yet so fiercely alive. Her youth infected me, and for a while, I was in love with her.
I dread the day she would get hurt. Musing to my brother in the car, I remarked: "give her a few more years and she wouldn't even come near me." Haha... how true. We all grow up, just that some of us refuse to grow old.
The boy was a slightly different story, though. He longed for a playmate, but was already beginning to feel inadequate around his female peer. However this inhibition was short-lived -- because once this crazy cousin of theirs began running around like a madman, arms waving in the air, he was joining in the fun like a rugby scrum-head. Pretty soon, our two cheeky pumpkins were slapping one another's bottoms and trying to peep down one another's shirt. Bad mistake.... cos before I knew it, they were tugging at my polo t-shirt too. Kids....
I guess I'll have two more reasons to keep the faith in my extended family -- these kids, and their parents. Watching them change and grow year after year at these gatherings, I found myself lost for words for fool-proof child upbringing solutions and mantras. Truth be told, I hated the quick temperedness of my parent's generation, and as a result I swore never to follow in their footsteps. However, I realise that children are a tough nut to crack without some show of authority from the adults. Not that we need to oppress them, but we need to show them who's in charge, and show them who they can trust. Heck, eventually they're gonna look back and say something like, "I wanna be just like that (I hope)."
All in all, I had a fantastic dinner because of the kids. It's nice to know that there are people you can really talk and have fun with in your extended family. The rest of the adults? Haha... They're a different story. Not today; I'm not in a PR mood today.
---------------------------------------------------
Caught the NDP pre-parade festivities on TV today. I loved it! All 15 minutes of all I watched from behind slitty eyes while curled up on the TV couch. Never mind the fact that the screen was somewhat horizontal and I wasn't feeling too good. :)
This year's parade and festivities simply overwhelmed Kallang, and for the first time as an audience, I envy the people on-site now. How I wish I could be there to be immersed and swept away in this wave of optimism and patriotism. So much effort, such beautiful smiles and emotions -- this is truely what a national day is about.
I was just in time to catch a brass band's parade opening performance. FANTASTIC!
The coordination, the smiles, the trust in their conductor, the magic of their suspended confidence... All stirred up into a melting-pot of loud jubilant music. I swear I almost cried. As I watched a row of drum-sticks rain down their commanding strokes on those white skins in unison, I was filled with a deep admiration and appreciation for their efforts. I wanted to clap for their effort, to applaude their beautiful performance. Ah... and I remember that you were once in such a position. What were those years like?
-------------------------------------------------------
As I type down the last bits of my thoughts for the evening, I anticipate the woody slumber I will soon undertake with the help of a little white pill. I hope that I get better tomorrow. There's tonnes of things waiting for us to do.
JKLM
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Reply
"Love is a choice you make from moment to moment." ~ Babara De Angelis.
And so, to your spritely step I shall try to follow. Because I am beginning to understand what free-spirited soul yearns for, I will gladly not be me so that you can be you. These changes are mine to undertake, for now. These other burdens are also mine to bear (and eventually shed) for now.
I ask but one little thing: that you try to understand the fine line between leading a care-free and eventful life and one that is somewhat reckless lies simply in an adequate amount of thinking -- be sensitive to the things around you, because it is still possible to lead the lifestyle you so love and be adequately mindful of other things at the same time. You don't always have to loose one to gain another.
With me, you'll never need to loose in order to gain, again.
Because, "from day 1..."
Always Yours,
JKLM
And so, to your spritely step I shall try to follow. Because I am beginning to understand what free-spirited soul yearns for, I will gladly not be me so that you can be you. These changes are mine to undertake, for now. These other burdens are also mine to bear (and eventually shed) for now.
I ask but one little thing: that you try to understand the fine line between leading a care-free and eventful life and one that is somewhat reckless lies simply in an adequate amount of thinking -- be sensitive to the things around you, because it is still possible to lead the lifestyle you so love and be adequately mindful of other things at the same time. You don't always have to loose one to gain another.
With me, you'll never need to loose in order to gain, again.
Because, "from day 1..."
Always Yours,
JKLM
Saturday, August 05, 2006
It's All About You
An hour and a half -- that's how long it took for me to travel home today. I woke up on the whining train to the piercing yellowed lights of the train cabin, feeling a slight headache coming on. Was it my sleeping posture, or was it simply these words struggling to form inside my head? Try as I might, I just couldn't get back to sleep. Counting the stations with my eyes closed, a truth came thumping upon my forehead.
Neither my eyes nor my imagination have mercy on me these days. I still see things in the same extravagent fantasy I used to. Little nuggets of our everyday life still lay scattered around me, calling out to me to pick them up. How could I resist?
For example, the strangest and most attractive parts of women's bodies showed themselves to me today. The back of a woman's knee can whet the appetite like the succulent silky folds of a ripe oyster's muscle. The locks of another roar brown and walnut gold in cascading nectar falls, tickling playfully her pearl-smooth shoulders, teasing and whispering a siren song of their trails of hot naked skin.
How does one hide from such incredible music that flows through the soul? For in each picture-perfect sighting, I see a fragment of you. But it is also through this music, that an invisible conductor waves his demanding baton to signal the descent into a somber chorus.
Yes, things have changed -- more accurately, the conditions have changed. All the little things point to suggest this. While I had successfully built my world all around you over the past year, I can no longer do so nor expect that you do so in return. To be truthful, I had assumed that a year was long enough to know and understand you; nothing reveals like patience and time combined. So this is also you.
But we are like flowers blossoming, merely opening up to become more truely what we really are. I wanted to show and accept you into the center of my life, but it now seems so selfish and impossible. Because you always had your life to live, and I should be satisfied that I am a part of it, not the center. Oh, but the craving to belong and feel so special again...
So fly, butterfly. Within your wings lie your field of blossoming petals, and in your nectar flutter-trail this flower will try once again to open up and shine. The old magic is still there, hidden within the shifting sands of our shared time. Perhaps one day we'll rediscover the fascination for one another that haunted our days and nights not so long ago. But for now, grow we must. And endure I will.
I'm stil all about you. Are you, too?
Neither my eyes nor my imagination have mercy on me these days. I still see things in the same extravagent fantasy I used to. Little nuggets of our everyday life still lay scattered around me, calling out to me to pick them up. How could I resist?
For example, the strangest and most attractive parts of women's bodies showed themselves to me today. The back of a woman's knee can whet the appetite like the succulent silky folds of a ripe oyster's muscle. The locks of another roar brown and walnut gold in cascading nectar falls, tickling playfully her pearl-smooth shoulders, teasing and whispering a siren song of their trails of hot naked skin.
How does one hide from such incredible music that flows through the soul? For in each picture-perfect sighting, I see a fragment of you. But it is also through this music, that an invisible conductor waves his demanding baton to signal the descent into a somber chorus.
Yes, things have changed -- more accurately, the conditions have changed. All the little things point to suggest this. While I had successfully built my world all around you over the past year, I can no longer do so nor expect that you do so in return. To be truthful, I had assumed that a year was long enough to know and understand you; nothing reveals like patience and time combined. So this is also you.
But we are like flowers blossoming, merely opening up to become more truely what we really are. I wanted to show and accept you into the center of my life, but it now seems so selfish and impossible. Because you always had your life to live, and I should be satisfied that I am a part of it, not the center. Oh, but the craving to belong and feel so special again...
So fly, butterfly. Within your wings lie your field of blossoming petals, and in your nectar flutter-trail this flower will try once again to open up and shine. The old magic is still there, hidden within the shifting sands of our shared time. Perhaps one day we'll rediscover the fascination for one another that haunted our days and nights not so long ago. But for now, grow we must. And endure I will.
I'm stil all about you. Are you, too?
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