There’s a party up in the sky! Fireworks and drums and everything!
The light flashes through the window and fills my room for a second.
I can hear an orchestra…
Dedrummm…. Dedummmmm….
Tsk tsk tsk
Drip drip drip
And the beat goes faster…
Drrrrrrr
Tshshshsh
Drrrrrr
Tshshshshshshsh
My feet tap with the rthym under the covers…
My head dancing…
My whole body shivering…
And a childish smile find its way to my eyes!
Hello Winter 
Previous post’s title is “no tomorrow”. I take that back.
In this dream we live in there is past, present, and future.
We have a tomorrow. Bright or dark, doesn’t matter, but it exists. And it is but an illusion. A very real and prevailing illusion.
Knowing what really matters and what shouldn’t…
I shall start rowing my boat… gently down the stream…
And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it’s a very very
Mad World…
Mad World…
Soft and innocent
She draws you in
Smoothly pulling you
Out of your skin
Like a moth you go
And like a moth you burn
And like a man you hurt
And turn into stone
But close your eyes and carefully listen
To silent sounds and secret signs
Certainly as ever there’s a story
If you read between the lines
Neither a victim nor a villain
A soul where both meanings combine.
Soft and innocent
She’s taken in
Smoothly Pulled out
Out of her skin
Like a moth she went
And like a moth she burnt
And like a girl she glowed
And turned into flame
So close your eyes and carefully listen
To noise of silence, screaming signs
And just before you write the story
Read the old scribbled lines
Neither a victim nor a villain
A beset soul with both notions combined
Far far away from home, in a house that does not believe in birthdays, I decide to skip a year. I will not be 24 this year. I will not grow older this year.
And the day turns to dusk and dusk becomes night and the night shifts to dawn. And I am not older. I am not younger. I am me and I expand in indefinable dimensions, not age-related.
October.
Fall.
Leaves. Plenty of leaves. Yellow leaves and red leaves and orange leaves.
Wind. Fresh cool breezy wind. I walk on Air.
Downtown stands and subway heat.
Random people walking, smiling and spreading peace.
Friends and laughs and giggles over early morning coffee and snacks.
Goodies.
Cinnamon. Banana pancakes. Blueberry waffles. Pure Hot Chocolate. More Coffee. More Cinnamon. Lots of Cinnamon. Cinnamon Apple scents. Candy Apples with Cinnamon and Caramel. Cinnamon apple pancakes.Cinnamon Air. Cinnamon Leaves. Cinnamon Sticks. Cinnamon Colors. Cinnamon faces and Cinnamon clothes.
Night time. Sushi. Karaoke. Laughing like there’s no tomorrow.
And sing.
Clouds. Bird’s eye view.
A walk in the woods by the lake.
Trees. Trees. Trees. Green yellow and orange.
Sunsets and waters.
And Peace. Good friend and Peace. Nature and Peace.
Missing. Nostalgia. Smiles. Texts. And a Song.
Text. Text. Text.
Long drives. Music in my head. Shy Bright Sun.
Night and a Halloween-themed park. A ride. A maze. A hay ride. And Pumpkins. Lots of pumpkins.
And Family. Old friend and Family.
“I am here to satisfy your taste buds” he says.
Burritos. Pizza. Sushi. Indian. Herbal Teas. Ice cream. Lots of Ice cream. Heaps and Heaps of Ice Cream. Frozen tongues and slurred words and loud giggles. Ice Cold weather and rain. Nonstop rain. Running. Chuckles. Warmth. More Ice cream. Nonstop rain. Nonstop Ice cream. And Hats. Many many many hats.
Those few moments before I fall asleep. Late-night-cold catches up. I shudder. I shake. I drift. I frown. I miss. I shake. I come back. I smile. I think of the day. I think of the song. I close my eyes. And it’s morning again. And it’s autumn again. And it’s red orange yellow and green again. And it’s cozy and beautiful again.
And today I say goodbye to 23.
And tomorrow I welcome 24.
In peace and quiet.
And fall.
As thoughts lay scattered inside my head – taking a short break from all the running and hiding and seeking – I stand right in the middle in blue baggy overalls and a green bell-shaped hat with my uncombed hair tied in a loose cluttered ponytail.
I tiptoe – barefoot – with a straw basket, and approach some of the thoughts lying around. I pick one up, hold it close to my nose, smell it, look through it, shake it near my ears, look at it again, decide to either put it in my basket or throw it back to the pile, then move on to the next.
I gather what I need for the moment, and I go to the center where a huge witch pot stands in glory and anticipation. I revise the basics of my signature recipes, and decide to add random flavors to this one. I pick the thoughts and throw one in at a time. After each throw of every thought, I add ingredients. A pinch of optimism, a dash of excitement, a hint of madness, two table spoons of patience, a sprinkle of fun, a few whiffs of magic, one cup of innovation, and two full cups of faith poured slowly while stirring.
I bend closer and breathe in the aroma, eyes closed and smiling. I stand back straight with contentment.
I leave the stuff cooking and sit down cross-legged near the fire. As I wait in patience, I sing a soft lullaby and watch the flames dance.
And I wait.
He/ It is here.
Say hello.
*Hello*
Smile and wave as he/it approaches.
Now sit down.
Communicate.
.
Illusions, fiction, and reality…
I put them all in the blender. I push the ON button, and I watch them as they mix and mingle and dissolve. I watch the color of each fading as they form one unique shade of a strange familiar color. I pour my cocktail in a silver cup and drink it up.
That’s what I do.
.
.
I know facts.
I know facts that keep changing.
I notice the change and I record it.
I know the facts.
I know they change.
I can sometimes predict the change.
I cannot however always predict the form of change.
I know the current facts.
And I do not trust their consistency.
.
I know I do not know much.
I take everything as it comes. One thing at a time.
And I wait.
.
I know it’s not you. Not any of you. It’s me. My perspectives and I. My daydreams and Myself. My disappointments have to do with me, not you. And knowing this, and knowing the facts, and knowing who I am – or most of it – I calm me down. And I tell her to wait (she who is what I am inside and out in every unique freakish possible way, my yin). And I tell him to wait (he who lives inside of me and occupies about one third of my brain, my yang). And I tell them to wait (little mini-me’s that occupy that little space in my head). And I tell myself to wait. And that’s what we do.
.
Frankie says in another context “the best is yet to come”
I believe him.
I know there’s more to come than just “the best”. I know Good and Bad travel together. I know how intense one of them could make the other.
But I have faith. In Good. And in Bad.
Most of all in Me. In my allegedly supernatural power to focus on Good, highlight it, and disregard Bad.
It’s not fear this time. It’s impatience. Longing.
Okay. And maybe one ounce of fear.
But I’ll close my eyes and surrender.
Come what may.
I’ll breathe it in with acceptance, and breathe it out more enlightened.
Come what may.
Already.
.
As for you/he/it.
Time to go.
Say good night now.
*Good Night*
Now leave me alone.
I remember your house. I remember the main street and the alley, the nearest supermarket, the old staircase and the balcony, the old wooden door, the dining table facing it, the cozy living room (which used to be a bedroom), your room, the guests’ room, the little bathroom, the bigger bathroom, and the kitchen. Did I leave something out?
I remember your sweet smiling face as you open the door and ask me for a big fat kiss.
I used to spend hours in your long narrow balcony, watching people in the street, listening to the neighbors fighting, singing and even talking to myself. You caught me once talking out loud to myself – I wasn’t being careful – I blushed and I defensively said that I was talking to a little girl in the street! You didn’t comment, you went back in and left me with my illusions. When I was younger I used to race my cousins in there (out there); the narrow balcony extending across the side of three rooms was huge for us back then. I remember the other little balcony too, but I rarely went in there. It was always stuffed with mysterious things in plastic bags and cardboard boxes. I always stayed clear from that one for fear that mice could be hidden anywhere beneath the piles of boxes and within the bags. You made us believe that just to make sure that nobody messes with the things you keep in your little balcony.
I spent many nights over, weeks apart from one another. I remember jumping into your bed in winter tucking my frozen feet under the covers. You used to warm them with your own feet while tickling me, and I could hear you say through my giggles “those icy-cold feet of yours are freeeezzing me”. I never cover my feet now! They’re never cold. Was that you? Did you warm them up forever?
We woke up one Friday afternoon (my cousins and I) to your voice calling us from the kitchen, asking us to get up, pray, make up our beds and help you with the cleaning. I got up first to get to the bathroom before anyone else, you were so proud of me for being so ‘obedient’. I was about to make my bed and help out when you called me. You said “don’t do anything, they’ll do it, you’re the lady here. You just sit here with your arms folded and do nothing”. I smiled and told you that they were ‘ladies’ too and if I do nothing they’d be upset. You thought for a while then said “fine, you just make the bed then, that’s the easy task; I’ll come help you, but don’t do anything else. Can’t you see how skinny you are? They eat more and so they can work more!”
I remember one of those days; my mother had a little fight with you when she found out that you used to give me sugar cubes behind her back. She said they were bad for my teeth, but you knew I loved sugar and you were being kind to me as always. You stood up for me when mama yelled and you showed me the hiding place where you keep heaps of sugar cubes, just in case you weren’t around when I wanted some. So is that why I have bad teeth?
I remember the chair you called daddy’s. It was always saved just for him; none of your other sons-in-law could sit on it when he was around. You made it clear that it was his.
I remember what you called me and my sisters: I was your ‘honey’, my big sister was your ‘sweet strawberry syrup’, and my little sister was your ‘little sugar’.
I remember how you called – or rather categorized – your own sons. One was your heart, the other your shoulder, the last your back bone. How did you do that grandma? How did you categorize everyone and everything like that? Do I get that from you?
It’s been a long time granny, a long time since it all happened (used to happen) and a long time since you’re gone. Why am I remembering all of this now? Is it the fear that one day I’d wake up not remembering a single memory I had with you? This thought always frightened me; the thought of living with no memories to look back to and reminisce. So can you hear me granny? I still remember things… and I miss you.
.
.
*This post was written a long while back, around 3 years ago. The reason I’m posting it again in this blog is simply cause I’m a little nostalgic to my childhood years.. and my granny. It makes me smile from the heart.
**Another possible reason: I don’t feel like writing anything new.
Sweet Beautiful Aya
You said you say the word “beautiful” a lot. I don’t. Yet, whatever or whomever I refer to as beautiful is probably more than just that. Words are never big enough to contain meanings.
So here’s the tag:
The rules are, erase the answers already listed and fill in my own then pass it on to four bloggers of my choice. And here we go.
1. Who is the hottest Movie Star?
Just one?! I think I’ll go for Johnny Depp this time.
2. Apart from your house and car, what is the most expensive item you have ever bought?
Never bought either. The most expensive item I ever purchased would probably be my laptop.
3. What is your most treasured memory?
Have tons of those. It’s always very hard for me to choose just one thing out of many. Today I choose this: laying out on the roof with my cousin and my little sister, heads to the sky, watching clouds as they go by and making shapes out of them.
4. What was the best gift you ever received as a child?
A small – very small – piano thing. My granny made mama buy it for me
5. What is the biggest mistake you have ever made?
I don’t believe in this. I mean I do make “mistakes” as I go about my life, but that’s not how I perceive them. In the bigger scope of things, they’re just paths I was meant to walk down to experience and learn from. With every supposed mistake, a more defined me comes to the surface. I have no regrets but I do pray for forgiveness as I must’ve wronged others along the way.
6. 4 words to describe yourself?
How about 6: I mostly live inside my head.
7. What was your highlight or low light of 2008?
Ouf. Hmm…
Crap I can’t remember.
It’s probably.. hmm…
Naah I can’t be sure!
8. Favorite Film?
Tough… I can’t choose a favorite film. At least give me the space to mention 4.
9. Tell me one thing I don’t know about you.
I have an invisible guardian angel…
And I’m not completely in denial; it’s just a company I like to keep most of the time.
10. If you were a comic book/strip or cartoon character, who would you be?
Hehe… my friends would say I’m Simba. One day though, I’ll make my own cartoon character that resembles who I am.
Tagging:
How about this: whoever reads this is tagged!
*B.B.T.T. stands for: Beautiful Bird Tag Thing
Evaluna
They Said...