the focus

I have so, SO many things I want to write about.. about the past week, how busy and crappy it's been.. exhausting trainings that leave me so drained I fall asleep the next day in class, how I'm slipping behind in class and how the house carnival is driving me CRAZY. I want to tell everything. [tim msged and asked if this week was better than the last. I don't know. can't remember last week... sometimes it's good to have a short term memory.] I also want to rant and rave about certain people, certain relationships I'm confused about and I'm wondering why school's the way it is.

But. I think it'll be more fulfilling to write about other things. (:
There was this time... a few weeks ago, I wrote. I spent hours writing and then when I tried to post it, everything got lost. Hours, you know? ohwell. "It's only words..."

I hear the piano playing now and it sounds wistful, lonesome. I love the violin, it's as human as instruments can go. When I hear the music soar I tremble all over- I'd like to think it's my soul struggling to get out and be the music. The saxaphone is.. sexy.

I heard the piano playing... it sounded wisful, lonesome.


________________________________________________________________

10th march.

Look through my eyes and see-
All the events that happened to me.
-
Children whose souls colour their clothes
An indian sky soaked with stars
The indian air twinkling with fireflies...
An indian shooting star.
Eagles, as common as ravens.
The vircarious tranquility of soaring in the drafts.
-
Hear what I heard
-
Children who die from falling off the roof while playing with their kites...
[Alternatively you can die by falling headlong into an open well.
Still playing your kite.
You choose. Life's a game where other people lose.]
Muslim voices raised in worship at 3 in the morning.
The groan of malaria.
Withcraft.
-
A dead, bloated body floating on the gange river. Entangled among debris...
No one bated an eyelid.

[ ]

Except singaporeans like us.. gwaking. "

____________________________________________________________


June 2003

"Black ink fills the otherwise empty spaces of the whiteness.

Surrounding the atmosphere are
Generalities.

Longing to break forth from the mundane, mediocre monotony-
Is there such a form?
Interpretations enter unbidden into my mind's eye, confusing and I'm losing my perspective
Of what I should be focusing on.

Nothing seems to come out the way I meant it to,
and generalities are still conveyed in the end."


____________________________________________________________

December 2001

'Homesick'

A baby's wail pierces the air
as I sit on a mud floor.

Waiting.
For home.

The setting sun beats across the walls.
Grimy.

I hear children playing below.
But they are not my playmates.

In an emotional zone.
Caught.

Between India the reality
And Home where my heart Is.

Something is not quite right.
But what is it?

Confusion threatens to engulf.
Then it strikes me.


I am not home.
Yet.

_______________________________________________________


mmm. That's about it. I still like these two even though they're pretty old. The rest... ohwell. Words come and words go.
I love writing. I'm in this zone where what I do and say is what I am without inhibitions. Yeah so what if my writings don't meet your standard? I guess it's a risk I took posting all my musings on the world wide web but. it's my two pennies' worth too. We all have to story to tell. Whether we do or not is another matter. I'm telling mine as I go along.

-pause-

bah. The knee's aching. It was the head last night. I'm no longer zen... write mode is over I think. Pity. Ohwell what to do what to do. Now to post this and find the knee guard.

Back to the real world for me.