The Continuation

Ed started to cry on the bench he used to squat on his messed-up unwanted day when he was a little dork that wore over sized jumper paired with crocodile look-alike sandals. He felt his body started to shiver when everything was exactly all right. He put his hands into the pockets of his yellow raincoat and his fingers wildly looking for a piece of a torn paper he used to scribble when he thought that he needed something to be jotted down for it would be lost in his memory.

He couldn’t bear the fact that he had a very despairing short term memory he couldn’t even remember his birth date.

Sometimes when he thought about this thing, he would bawl on his own because he loved to remember back the days when he hit the sack on that lovely summer morning at the back on Samuel’s lawn where the Jared twins will cheekily threw him with a massive amount of solidified clays and an enormous velocity of water jet.

He enjoyed those times. Ed wanted more. Ed wanted Paul to hug him right now so that the nightmare that haunted him all this while will vanish and he wanted Paul to see him stood up on his own, being an independent and still cling on him for a little sprinkle of love.

It is still the continuation

So it wasn’t about Ben or Canberra at all or the kids that threw their own poo at him after a day of unwanted commotions. It wasn’t the scent of morning mist that kept him fumbled into past memories or the maple leaves that fell down on the lane of wisteria in some unknown provinces in Sussex. And it was absolutely not about the hideous hair he had in the unglamorous salon where did all people sink into the hardened pillowed chair waited for their hair to be uncurled.

It weren’t those occasions that smacked his rib cage out.

He knew it because everything seemed to be as normal as any day he had experienced for the last couple of months, where he saw butterflies and moths teeming over a bouquet of flowers with variations of magnificent colors and he couldn’t differentiate what was the difference between butterfly and moth because everything seemed to be as colorful as he had went through just like on this very precise moment, where his feet nailed vertically on the ground and he couldn’t feel any movement to free himself. And he knew that the cursed has been released.

He knew that the guy who was passing him over, the guy that left his palm with slight and thin scent of multiple hundreds of quid of perfume – was his remedy to his own mysterious illness. He was in love. An arbitrarily love from a man to a man. It wasn’t a brotherly love but rather a passion (and of course love) to the same communal genitalia group and he knew it wasn’t something ordinary for this kind of inter-gender affection to be happened to him and he wasn’t really sure whether his sick unadulterated mind had been polluted by the homosexual provocation of the en masse media he saw on the tv or was it just his biological and physical need for a companion.

He couldn’t explain. Maybe for now.

But it was that guy’s face that haunted his dreams for the last couple of weeks and it wasn’t scary at all but rather amusing and exhilarating and sexually compelling.

He thought that he needs to figure this squashy depressing feeling out, sooner!

It is the continuation

It was in the morning, cold misty morning where solid clog of haze blurring my sight. The temperature was so damn low that it shivered my every muscle to the bone – the coldness owed me a wonderful stretch of blanket to cover my complete torso. I woke up climbing down the stairs with hand fully gripped to the banisters just to feel every puff of breath I inhaled, hardened and coarse – just like the frost poking up your nostrils on the hard winter morning.

Still months to come after just a few days I was here to soil this fertile land with my preserved knowledge and for me, my unknowing deserved to be garnished with another part of the world I haven't seen before. It was woods and jungles and more leaves and more woods and branches of the species I haven't known peacefully grow in the vicinity of my own brand new polished home. It was like reminiscing the day you first arrived in Sussex not to know every single thing in front of your eyes. You tried to focus and tried to recall everything you've seen in the book you bought in Kinokuniya but in a way you were excited to scream that you knew this and you've seen that but alas it wouldn't scream out of your mouth. It was well preserved.

But the days in Sussex were completely different from the days everything did shamble here in this God-knows-what-creature-would-come-out-from-my-backyard place. It feels like the interference of two different worlds and forcefully asked to mix up together by some sort of weird chemical and physical and biological reactions so that a brand new culture could be cultivated and people could adapt to their own preferences.

I haven't tried any of that mixture because I wouldn't dare to change the way I already lived, the way I've been brought up, the way the Sussex boys saw the life from their own perspective.

I saw Canberra and I saw Ben on a single wheel of his bicycle. Ben did that twisting with his handle on the formation I never knew while I saw myself holding my muffler trying to get it rounded back on my neck. And suddenly I couldn't see myself and Ben and other people lying on that park on that lovely fall evening. I couldn't see the view I was profound to saunter the next evening. They disappeared. The world kept on shaking I couldn't hold my feet to the ground.

Everything flashed back to where it did belong to. I rode the bus this morning just to be gaped in awe about the amazement I saw within a few reach of my hands. The mountains, the hills, the small rivers, the dew that scattered all over the window. It was awesome to be knocked on the head that you were alive and still breathing to see this dew dripping from the tip of the weird species leaf of a tree and you love it and you became someone you didn't know because from the first day you were born to the hour your age had befallen on 20, you never knew that this kind of place ever exist. You just didn't know.

And you started to become someone even weirder that you can't recognize that it were you. Suddenly the sudden comprehension struck your head like an atomic bomb you knew will explode then you tried to run and to evade every single possibility that you had known will result in your own casualty. It was freaking mad. All of a sudden you started to cry and began patting your own head just to be regretting your own past sorrows.

And in the end, you think you will have the benefit of the doubt, and you started to screw everything up and you couldn't bear the fact that everything did shamble everything again when your hopes started to bloom.

And it was just the time that you hit the voracious fire and relentlessly hoping that you were back in Canberra watching Ben and his bicycle and you wished you were transported back to Sussex just to see yourself in your schooling uniform.

My life could be trembling. But I am pretty sure that you will feel what did I feel just now.

My Crooked Stupid Little Life

It is always happen to me when I have many things to be written, it will just vanish without any clear interventions. It halts. It is augmenting the superficial thoughts I’d withdrawn a few fortnights beforehand. It is like an undressed girl trembling herself arguing about her existence and the self-despoilment and the whereabouts the occurrence of her nudity. Like I had experienced just now, the mind boggled with a pool of unfiltered ideas, it tried defiantly to channel the thoughts to people around, but it was rather persistent and reluctant to be perceived. It feels like a big gigantic balloon bloating inside your tummy and waiting to be burst out. It is horrifying to think about the possibility but the real thing could be happened and for some reasons it couldn’t be avoided.

Life floats like a bubble in open air. When the wind blows, it pushes you to the top, when the heat goes, your life will sink until you drop.

Luminiscent

"She cries"

"I didn't do anything"

"She thought that you will leave her alone. She couldn't bear the fact that she will be raising your son without even know the path that she should follow"

"I love my son. The only world I know"

It was in the morning. Cold misty morning where dew started to clog the window in my little cubicle room. The window had been the one who always gave me the clear picture where I should go every morning. Whether to head to the north or to the west. Usually it was the north that I followed. The path was clearer and the ground was more even rather than the west. The west was shorter but has been perforated and even lit badly.

It has always been when I didn't sure whether to head north or to make a tow and head to the west. It always been a confusing choice. It just like when you have a lot of things you want to say but eventually it jams inside your brain and your nerve gone mad and you don't even know what to do.

I'm getting used to it, over time.


I am so alone right now. It has been a couple of days that I sat outside, far in the middle of the lawn and began deliberating and pondering myself about everything. I've lost a lot of things lately and I didn't even sure whether they were recoverable or just going to be perished in the nick of time. It was great to lay back and watch over the sky, how the stars blinked defiantly, how the moon portrayed the blue canvas with it's dimmed color and how great the God is, making everything goes perfectly without any interventions.

I think the sky would be bluer for months to come.



It's El Nino you know!