wake / half past july

(no subject)

SILENT FILM 
a prompt for you to dream closer to me.

i.
Listen to this,
I'm channeling my daydreams into tangible forms of goodbyes,
the kind I would snicker at when I think no one else is looking,
but also the sort I want the most;
hear:

ii.
"I'm left dying on the sidewalk due to some mundane circumstance
and you hold my hand,
and say something I can no longer hear, half bitter,
half longing,
but mostly just smothering.
I'm
choking,
and whisper --

iii.
"Pardon?"
Followed by a long silence where only our fingertips exchange gestures
of vague understanding,
wishing they knew each other better, as they travel
from the foot of the ring finger
to the ticklish section along the wrist,

iv.
and the bus wheels screech to a halt at our stop
but our sleeping knees continue their siesta.

v.
Pillow talk
(and fights),

vi.
while getting drunk on each other's residue
tedium of
all-nighters,"

vii.
and quite hastily
the credits would roll, inconsequential and anticlimactically comical.
All I'm doing is waiting
for the cue of the aisle lights
to chorus,

"fair Night,
good Morning;
but this is how it ends."

__

Apparently it's National Poetry Day in the UK today. I'm not from the Little Continent, but it's a coincidence (and excuse) for badly articulated confessions.

Good evening, there are thunderstorms brewing quiet battles outside my window.
restructure / don't you tire of me

dearest interlude

Wasabi
Andrea Gibson

The plan was to play hard to get, that's right.
I wasn't just gonna go giving myself away, I'm no easy catch.
Can you really see me in fishnets? No.
I always found myself slipping out the holes,
swimming back out to sea.
I'd never been anybody's sushi roll.
But she, has lips like wasabi.
My eyes water every time we kiss.
Makes me wish we had a porch swing
and a little home.
Makes me wish I could right wrongs
instead of poems.
The heart is a bullet that's terrified of blood.
Love is a windshield wiper in a hurricane;
Nothing is ever clear.
You mistake her name for the moon,
Mistake porch lights for stars
And sometimes they are.
Her constellations lead me home,
Ten thousand shades of open
And if there's one thing I've ever known
in this world for sure is that this girl
is gonna crush me like a small bug,
leave me so freaking broken there will be
body bags beneath my eyes from nights
I cried so hard the stars died
but I'm like, go ahead, I'm all yours.
I would kiss you in the middle of the ocean during a lightning storm
cause I'd rather be left for dead than left to wonder
what thunder sounds like.
I'm not looking for someone who can save me.
Liferafts might keep you afloat but they rarely get you anywhere
and I've got places I want to go.
So break me in two, peel back my rib cage and
cover every page of my heart with love poems
that you will burn someday.
The most fertile lands were built by the hands of volcanoes.
And I want to know what grows beneath the drone of
hallmark and roses.
I want your goodbye to feel like explosives.
Your lips a burning building without fire escapes,
Your hips the gates of hell if I know if heaven exists,
but this will do just fine.
And I want to be life lines on the palms of Jesus
when the nails went through.
Is that really, really creepy?
Just in case it is, let me also say I want you sleepy-eyed
in the morning waking at my side like a warm summer sky
born from so much softness the horizon cries
every time nightfall comes to take you.
Let me also say that I want to make you sandwiches and soup,
and peanut butter cookies — though, the truth is,
peanut butter is actually really bad for you cause they
grow peanuts on old cotton fields to get the toxins out
of the soil — but hey,
you like peanut butter and I like you.
Let me also say I've never seen anything more gorgeous
than you were that night.
The moon bending through the window blinds.
I told time by the light casting shadows across your face
while you told me the story.
My grandparents were married for 63 years.
On the day my grandfather died, he laid in bed and said
Nothing but love love love love
then he puckered his lips and kissed
my grandmother for the last time.
Love is like sunshine. Sometimes you have to get burned
to know you were there and I want to know that I'm here.
Every single part of me — my heart open as
the river's eyes the first time it sees the ocean.
My God, look at those waves.
Listen to that thundering tide.
Can you imagine anything more frightening?
Can you imagine anything more alive?

I discovered this poem through patricia's journal. It speaks to me at an implicit level; too many emotions, too little white noise, and maybe, just right.

It is very strange to find a small, secret part of the universe riding on exactly the same frequency as you, when you don't have to second guess your defects nor sew a patchwork quilt of faces to make the futon feel a little more welcoming. Perhaps we are a little more psychic than we really think we are, to at least one other wandering person out there amongst the thistles.
timeless / only silence

understanding distance

I want to do a study where I shadow a regular individual 24/7 and blend into the shadows in the perspective of my subject. I have this weird theory that the loss of identity doesn't only pertain to the way you view yourself, but how easily it is to be disregarded or sidelined.

__

what is the threshold for feeling
where weariness threatens to capsize

when the brink of a crisis

wipes  
                  me
                                     away,





                                                                                                                                             and surfaces

who liberates me up at the end of the day.
detain / find the one to replace you

help me quench my thirst for Infinity

for the darkness only serves to vacuum (my) beginnings
of star children who ride on memories of broken constellations,
surfing down the Milky Way in a precarious simulation of an adventure.

The wind skimming their skin falls apart in evasive chemical equations
(as their bodies gradually disintegrate with the sandpaper friction of pining
that stretches 
like taut strings of a Cat's
Cradle from



what used to
be a
refuge.)

__

It's a complex feeling when someone wishes you could be erased.

I don't really know what expression to make in response to that.
don't lie / small talk is just fine

lost the parallel

Recently, I've been overcome by a series of nightmares which outrun me repeatedly every time I allow myself to drift off to sleep. It's a kaleidoscope of people I know and love, twisted into terrifying proportions and perspectives against me, and the most simple concepts of trust and affection corrupted by paranoia and subconscious disgust. It's pretty depressing. (;´д⊂)
Sleep is becoming more of a (literal) nightmare, rather than my usual means of daily escapism. I wake up feeling more exhausted than before. Externally, there are more wonderful, than bad, things happening -- I wonder why my internal system does not corroborate.

I feel like I've been a terrible friend lately. When left to my own devices, I tend to sink so seamlessly back into introspection and reflection. I feel like I've been self-absorbed, allowing myself to wallow in insecurities and isolation though I actually miss everyone. I have a bad feeling I'm actually very masochostic, ahaha. I have this weird mindset in which the more I torture myself, the better I will feel after... whatever stressful task I'm partaking in at the moment.
Once I get this design task and its accompanying tedium out of the way, I want to be less of a hermit again. 

__

Randomly: I'm listening to the Artemis Fowl and the Atlantis Complex audiobook while doing my designwork, and it's precious. I love Arty, and psychological problems are my guilty pleasure. Doesn't help that I've been feeling rather insane myself lately. /laughs
detain / find the one to replace you

an anthology of regrets



. on continuity

What I've been doing for the past few weeks: tons and tons of storyboards for the oneshot MP is working on right now. I have mixed feelings about the experience: whether I'm really as good as a team worker I thought I was, the standards I set for myself (and others), disappointments, satisfaction, but of course, there's also that bit where I think I'm looking forward to studying animation in future. Come quickly, animation major. I think I can begin to envision a career in this for myself.

About that thing about working in teams, it remains a work-in-progress. There are many times I still wish to monopolise my time with art as something wholly personal and sacred. That's just my naivety, of course, especially in the face of uni and work in future.

Collapse )
versus / bring it on

strangulation

Eloquentia, disquiet, aggravation, a little too much silence
and then, quite suddenly
(white) noise.
I can't
remember.

My mediocrity is driving me crazy.
don't lie / small talk is just fine

we'll find better days


Something I decided to take part in as a contributing artist! I am so uninformed about most of the fandom headcanons and characters because there are way too many universes. ((((゜д゜;)))) I'm hoping to strike it lucky by claiming a Green/Red-centric fic or otherwise I'll take this opportunity to learn more about the other characters, ehehe. Nonetheless, I'm excited to be working in a team to create something immensely awesome. 

I'm nearly entirely better now! I've started to build up my old routines once again: I've taken to exercising daily (okay so skipping and singing at the same time has got to be bad for my heart but it's pretty fun, really! /coughs noise pollution aside), as well as drawing like there's no tomorrow (I've been posting on my art tumblr almost everyday alsdkjf). I realised that the two weeks of doing absolutely nothing has fired up my love for art again - probably due to withdrawal symptoms. /laughs  I was feeling unmotivated before, so I guess the time away from art was a blessing in disguise. I hope to really join some art roleplay groups this time because I really want to train myself to design some original characters instead of fanart all the time.

I haven't been out of the house since the interview too, so I'm pretty thankful to be able to drag myself out to a tea session for accepted students at the School of Art, Design and Media tomorrow. In the case that I have to stay in Singapore, it'd be great to see what kind of students I'd be studying with! Maybe I'll feel less upset about it too, hehe. I want to feel happy no matter what my future is and make the best of it.

In other news, Kimi to Boku II and Tsuritama are pretty awesome. The series this season are so promising. (●´◡`●) I have tons of other stuff like KuroBasu I want to start watching too. /nerds out