26.FEB.05

PARTAY

When people refuse to dance at a "party on it's death bed", it exhibits certain disrespect. When a party is struggling to breathe (or else has too much room for breathe), people tend to cluster in little groups, chattering idle chit-chat with pretense expressions for the final annoucement of the party's decease. Now the factors which induce fatality in parties may include the following:

1. The music (hill billy or elton john tunes could result to instantaneous extermination)
2. The drinks (or whats lacking of it...imgaine that! A sober party is a handicapped party)
3. The food (especially if there isnt any food except for the bowl of peanuts that has accomodated many post-toilet unwashed hands)
4. The bf or gf you choose to take or not to take (Yes. You know what im talking about, them flirting with heaps of hot singletons...or you by yourself amongst many hot couples)
5. The people (aka the shy lil ones who sit in every corner; the one that always gets drunk first and first to puke or pass out; the one that talks incessively making you wish you had a double barrel rifle; the one that bailed before they even stepped in; the couple that refuses to get a room; the one that just wants to dance but no one is willing; and finally the awkward looking host)

Of course many other factors contribute to the extinction of an party including police raids, bomb threats, comet crashing into your backyard, or simply a combination of all. Either way, the point im trying to reach across is that people should make an effort to resuscitate a defeated social gathering rather than decoying the situation.


21.FEB.05

ABIDING

Monitor her. Trace the wires that extend from this fleshy carcass. Pulse is steady. Breathing is consistent. Mind meanders. A prodigy of all things vigilant. She sleeps. She doesn't stir plots nor does she utter motives. She simply sleeps. Day and night lunges into one. Time fails to exist. To live within an limp shell of mortality. To abide to the capricious nature of the mind, where one loses grasp of thought; of reason; of reality. A world governed by erratic waves of visions. Nothing to hold on to. Destruction of matter. Devoid of sense. A life led on white sheets. But monitor her for possibilies are far too immense for the modest capacity of men.

Perhaps i shall stay home tomorrow again, to nurse my twisted mind one more day. O chemical intolerance!


20.FEB.05

STRUGGLE

Why must things always be so difficult? Sometimes i feel so tired and cannot overcome anything. Why must there be conflict? Why must there be complications and doubt? I feel like im drowning in an abyss of uncertainity and lies. Sometimes i want more, sometimes i want it gone. Why must it be so difficult? Im so tired. No sleep can cure this exhaustion.


19.FEB.05

WITH

Life with Norm.

1. KFC
2. Flimsy packets of chips
3. Imprints of his presence
4. Change for better (if not worse)
5. Hectic

It's rained twice. Heavy downpours of emotion. Interlocked fingers and kissing palms. Moments of truth. Always remembered. Insecure like a safe. Short for breathe. Butterflies. Labelled a Gem. Memories exchanged. Fearful of the inevitable. Lustful of the touchable. Days. You make me incoherent. Lost for words.


16.FEB.05

WRITTEN

Surely people's incoherent, internally contradictory, mental detritus is hardly worth chronicling. You'd have people less engaged in life and more engaged in the contemplation of their navels. Not only that, but it elevates egocentricity, the pursuit of the personal instead of the common good.

When i write, i write down my fears, seeing them articulated i reduce their efficacy. I can go back and realise how often worry robbed me of the capacity to enjoy the good things in my life, when in retrospect, there was objectively nothing to worry about. And if i can see that the fears were a rule unwarranted, then i can extrapolate to the present. This is a pursuit of the personal.


14.FEB.05

VALENTINE

I remember this time a year back, being alone but comforting myself in the warmth of my family. This year, i am once yet again, ultimately alone. So its anitcipated that i'll come to the deduction that no one can escape from being alone. I'm going to make peace.

...okay maybe not completely alone this year.


12.FEB.05

PROCLAIM

From this moment on, its just myself and The Word.
Ah Sarcasm! The last refuge of a meagre mind.


11.FEB.05

MOMENTUM

It's just a conquest. Nothing more. A quest to satisfy the enmity with my ever fluctuating ego. Theres a common pattern; the prelude, the movement, and then the conclusion. Sweet enough to burn your tongue, but short enough for it to become just another vague memory. I can melt into your lips and dissipate like the inconsistent words you dispense. Nothing can come out of nothing; you capture me with nothing, and i will leave nothing. So what, if im here late at night spooning out nutella? So what, if i feel a tinge of affliction? It's just another motif of my conquests...

I lie. You are more.


10.FEB.05

TODAY

Yesterday, i let you walk into my life. Today, i let you walk into my heart. Tomorrow, i hope you'll stay.


7.FEB.05

I AM

Define yourself. Outline your past. Clarify your present. Analyse your future. Don't lie. Don't scrutinize. Don't hesitate. They'll doubt your integrity. They'll arbitrate unjustly and slot you somewhere inexorable. You could be scrubbing for the rest of your life trying to douse away the label they have sewn on you; crying for chasteness in identity. You can't be blank once you've been dabbed with ink. Don't look back. They don't like that. It confirms regret, and regret validates mistakes. Smile. Nod. Use eloquence to persuade perfection. Obstruct their critical eyes with confidence that sweats from your very pores. Sure, you know who you are. Sure, you walk a step forward with every two steps back. Sure, you are an osmosis of social movement. But they dont know that. They dont know that you're indefinable; that you co-exist without a description; without a denomination. You are a deviant of life itself. I am all.


5.FEB.05

INCONSISTENT

My confidence wavers. My heart thuds irregular beats. My stomach churns. My control has eloped with your touch. I'm gone.


4.FEB.05

SUBSTANTIAL

Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum

I am human; i consider nothing human strange to me.


1.FEB.05

EXTEMPORANEOUS

Tap. Tap. Tap. Her set of freshly manicured nails tapped crisply across the keyboard. Ocassionally, she'll toss her head, sending her soft fall of curls bouncing over bare shoulders. Tick. Tick. Tick. The standard white faced clock meditated gravely as its hands struggled against the heat. He walked in with a click, standing a good 6 foot 5 next to the door. His hair was cropped neatly with a few sweat licked strands plastered across the forehead like paint. His languid eyes fell on her well framed face as she looked up; she was young and that could only mean one thing - judgemental. She gave an exaggerated blink, opening her fan of lashes as she glared back; completely unconcerned. The man coughed and shifted his glaze onto a neglected pot plant near the corner, exhorting energy to speak. She glanced back to the computer screen and said in an apathetic tone, "Full service or...?"


31.JAN.05

MUSIC

It makes me in awe to watch another dance so perfectly in tune with the beat. It's i suppose in a way alot like making love, only with the music. The steady rhythme seems to creep through their thin epidermis, cutting through the strands of muscle and into the rushing bloodstream; infusing with everything internal. I let go sometimes too, and give in to the rocking bass. Twirling, swinging and singing loudly (and perhaps out of tune too) in front of my mirror. I like watching myself so carefree and a little insane. I like falling on the ground in a daze gasping for breathe, all the while with the lingering beat tingling underneath my skin.


30.JAN.05

EXPECTATION

How do you forfeit all expectaions that's been placed on you? When i was young, i always wanted to be a policeman. I would have a red plastic water pistel gripped tightly in my sweaty palms whilst i ran around whaling like a police siren. I was a goddamn good policeman too because i caught all the bad guys that hid behind the doors, closets and cracks between the floorboards. I would throw each criminal into a paper box weighed down by books. My little red pistel never ran out of water and the jail never ran out of space. My mum would pat me on the head all the while beaming as she says, "Shhh, policemen have to be quiet" I would continue to run around the room pouncing from one spot to the next, whaling just a little softer.

When did these conceived utopias cease? When did parents start embedding expectations in their children's ambitions? And when did personal goals become so remote and difficult to grasp? What I want to know is, how do you stand against obstinate lapping tides without falling into them and being swept away into the ocean. When i was young, i wanted to be a policeman so i would have control.


29.JAN.05

RETURN

Thirty-five days dies quickly. The sun sets; ephemeral but beautiful, leaving a dash of superb colours and then it is gone as darkness swallows the day. Second world China is like a sunset. Living in the showcase city of China, Shanghai; i was overwhelmed by the noise, the people, the traffic and the grey apartment buildings spiked with flags of laundry. The jagged city of skyscrapers and construction sites represented strength, potential and economical wealth as all great cities should. But it held neither progress nor promise on a social level. I was in a crowd that robbed me of company. The society lacked unity, lacked spirit and lacked traditional culture. Instead it has fallen to superficiality and superfluous social rituals. The disparity between class groups is so distinct that a armless man would be kneeling on the streets at -4 degress whilst Boss suited men walk into the nearest Versace store. A family of three would struggle on an income of 700RMB a month barely full whilst another would be travelling to europe on a regular basis buying Rolexes and LV bags. There are only two roads to be successful; being a high government offical or a demoralized businessman. Corruption reigns.

On visiting Shanghai i was enlightened to my own self-indulgence and selfishness living in Sydney; a home omitted of relatives. Upon meeting my extensive relatives and seeing their individual lives and situations, i realised how fundamental family is to a person. I scaned many of the familiar faces now deeply etched and realised that the years has crept through them like a thief in the night. It made me sad. Their stories touched me, their bravery and struggle in life inspired me and their warmth and presence moved me. This was one of the irreplacable splashes of colour left across the sky of my world.

I will always travel back to Shanghai regardless. It's heritage. The sun sets to allow for another sun rise.