Why are you being so safe with your compliments for me?

Because I'm afraid

There's no need for confessions and announcements
No need for congregations and segregation

Of all I want and all I yearn,
I'll walk away,
If I have to be
number two.

Vicious

Iran, 27th December 1978 as the demonstrators faces off against the army in the Anti-Shah protests.

Full report on Al-Jazeera.

Iran, 27th December 2009 in the mass protests against the Mahmoud Ahmadinejad-run government.

I feel like being unreachable to the general mass till further notice - that includes you

I lie there in your arms, kissing you, staring you in the eyes as our lips munch on each other. I want nothing more than you staring into my eyes when I kiss your existence out of you.

And as I lie there, you in my arms, holding your head close into me, it struck me. Thinking what it would be if something were to happen to you and I couldn't hold you like this anymore, scared the hell outta me and my heart beats faster as I hold you tighter, as if that would change the forces beyond me, and THAT scared even the bejeezus out of me, realizing that I may be in too deep.

Should I pull back babe?

How can I, as you cheer me up after a horrendous day at work.

How could I, if every time you see me you land somewhere close to me.

How would I, if every time I sulk you talk me into smiling again.

How could I, if every time your friends bully me you defend me.

How should I, if my body's in pain you're the one to give me a back rub.

How can I, when these days you're not like before.

Listening to me, loving my company, my kisses and my body, not hiding me.

I know I have a history of being noncommittal and have this minor fear of settling down (with the wrong person). I run when thing get rough or too close for comfort. Words people throw me came back to mind. "You're the sort to cower rather than query when in doubt, especially when you can feel your heart will be involved deeper than you meant to. When people provoke, you feel attacked, and you will stop interacting so that people won't have anything to use against you. But this is when they want you to fight for them."

"You have a problem with commitment."

Do I? Really? But then again, so do you.

It used to be, all about the sex, and the music, and the escapism we share.

Now it's the witness to my life, the conversations about life, politics, news, books, movies, ideal lifestyles and ideologies. About us, our past, present and future. About truth and lies, and the grey area in between.

About you and me, doing it on the balcony with a vibrating condom.

Babe, should I be pulling back from the chemistry that makes us lovers?

Perempuan kau hot.

Vain in Vein

You I punya.

Ok. Sampai bila?

Sampai I bosan.

What if you share me with xxx?

I'm okay, if you're okay sharing me with someone else?

Alaaa, you perempuan, mana boleh?

Why not?! You tamak boleh?

...................

I pun nak tamak, I want you all to myself.

Ok.

You I punya?

I you punya.

Tony Takitani

Why are we going back to our hedonistic ways?

It's not human to not be jealous. I'm not jealous.

I miss home today. Today I'll be at MY home. Watching Tony Takitani and enjoy my bed.

We're behaving like a couple in love. When we're just two sinners meeting each others' match, and melting in each others' warmth.

Next time I pick you up, we'll lie down on the roof of my car and gaze at the stars.

You're louder in bed these days. More frantic, more physical and the way you just fucking moan out my name, over and over again, drives me insane.

Don't stop.

Do you think we'll ever get bored with each other?

Akannnn.

I'm not feeling that yet.

=)

You, I think the tequila made me horny.

You're always horny.

I like it how you're always pulling me into you. The things you say, things I wouldn't normally believe about myself.

How you kiss me a few moments longer than I thought you would.




You think he'll be angry if he sees what we're doing?

Voices in the Dark

I nak you.

Kan you tengah dapat I sekarang ni?

I want you to stay.



I like this.

What?

You, mine at this moment.

There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart's desire. The other is to gain it.

I've always imagined a story of us. We'd be pretty much the way we are right now. Masses of sin, moving in sync with the rhythms of the rain beating up the soils of night. Neglects the world, abandons reality, waiting for the time to incur the wrath of adulthood and responsibilities.

In this story we'd be pulled by a gravity stronger than the chemistry that binds our time in each other. I will drift away, and you will let me.

It will be a year or so till we care to hear each others' voices again. To breathe in each others' necks again. To leave soft lingering kisses in each others' skins again. To pull and tug each others' beings into existence again. To lie in a standstill breathing in the scant scent of sex in the dewy morning breeze again.

You'd be with another person. I'd be a careful hunter. One day you'd be lying in a haze, lining the surfaces that make her a woman, and nothing else crosses your mind but me.

The laughs that was annoying became endearing. The lazy eyes you once thought was empty now came with a glint you'd wish you can capture, like a battery-operated soul was injected into it. The gasps and pants that you find hard to resist. The lips you wish you could dismember for you to keep.

You'd have grown wiser by then. The discerning bone in your body had grown. The man in you wanted to abandon the boy that was. Nevertheless, bringing along the youthful soul that longed for the girl you once alternately trod and cared for deeply from yesteryear.

Trace us back, take us back

Does your hand still remembers mine? You'd ask.

We barely hold hands, beyond the dizzying nights in your bed.

Maybe that's what was missing.

And proceeded to pull my battered, tattered hands, curled it up in a soft fist, inhaled the scent of time and tire, and you kissed it, not with malice nor with chagrin, not with lust nor with desire. But just with warmth, longing for the same soft skin that once stroked your hair, soothed your face till you sleep.

And you hold it longer than you would have had. This time the fear of letting go as imminent as the fear of falling.

But of course, my imagination reeks of euphemisms. With life taking its due course, and books being better only when it leaves a long trail of lost hopes, failed dreams and numbing pain behind, I'm left to pick up the pieces of my eyes. Gradually forgotten, with traces lost forever, nowhere to be found.

People have lost track of me before.

Red Ruby
5/12/09
Sober

Happy birthday.

May you get what your heart desires.

Visit the Voice

AKU

Kalau sampai waktuku
'Ku mau tak seorang kan merayu
Tidak juga kau

Tak perlu sedu sedan itu

Aku ini binatang jalang
Dari kumpulannya terbuang

Biar peluru menembus kulitku
Aku tetap meradang menerjang

Luka dan bisa kubawa berlari
Berlari
Hingga hilang pedih peri

Dan aku akan lebih tidak perduli

Aku mau hidup seribu tahun lagi

Maret 1943

Chairil Anwar (1922-1949)

Va-va-Voom!

You got me confused.

I'm convinced of one thing, and another happened?

But then, there's still that nagging suspicion.

What is it do you want?

Vile Vermouth

We're too similar.

Our mother issues.

Our self-mental-illness-diagnosing traits. (By the way, I'm pretty convinced I'm a manic depressive and Bipolar)

Our sordid saviour in the form of self-torture.

Our freedom in escapism.

Our sense of Lost and wanting to be Found.

Our collections from walkabouts.

Our interest, but your talent is God-sent as opposed to mine.

But hey, he wants you. He wants you he wants you he wants you.

I'm left to be the undocumented girl in their life.

Again

and again.

And again.

So who's got it worst babe?

photo ©2009 chris rain

3:51pm
1/12/09