I Waited

I waited.
Breath bated.
For a bait.
A bed.
Feelings that fail to abate. 
Only exacerbate.
I waited.
In vain.

Absence

It has been a while. Revisiting the blog is like looking back fondly on a dusty diary.  Snap shots of thoughts, emotions and events captured in individual entries. For some, a reflection of events even further back in time.

Memories otherwise obscured or confined to the deep dark depths of subconsciousness. Silent and forgotten until roused from the brief intrusion of rememberance, they rise to the surface before slipping back to slumbler beneath the dark placid waters.

One feels almost apologetic.  An intruder in a graveyard of memories. But in what manner? As if to remember, reminisce or observe would somehow tarnish the clarity of the memories themselves. The greatest injury being the inadvertent distortion of such memories, events and emotions. That by their frequent recollection,  they become subtly but inexorably corrupted in their disturbed retrieval, oxidising in the corrosive air of current perception. A minor embellishment,  a harmless omission and the indefagible force of imperfect rememberance.

There is much to commend about the purity of memories preserved. Crystal and clear. But memories perfectly preserved are those perfectly forgotten, irretrievable at will and only discovered by chance. Fossils in the sands of time. And what joy brings buried treasure when the map is lost and the treasure forgotten?

Better a quiet and unobtrusive rememberance.  To recall and reflect then to leave with thanks.

The memories themselves are unassuming and care not if one remembers or not. The past has no patience for the presence. It need not for the present has no place in the past. They exist independent of one's desire to reflect, regret or respect.

So it shall be with the memories enshrined herein. Visited, remembered and perhaps once in a while a new event encapsulated.

Absence is not a cause for regret.

Pretend me not.

"Could you at least pretend?" He stopped in mid conversation. Some discourse about the pairing of saffron with fish or was it paella. She had lost him some 10 minutes ago. Caught between the drone of his voice and the tinkle of Richard Clayderman's Ballade pour Adeline.

"Pretend what?" She asked automatically even though she knew the answer. Dragging the rocket leaves across herplate, watching the trails of dressing left in their wake. Blossoms of brown and yellow twisting, writhing into life on the white plate.  Now a face grimaced back at her.

"That you're interested in the damn conversation. Or am I such a bore?" The indignation,  frustration evident in his voice. And the implicit plea in the undercurrents beneath, the faint tremor barely discernible. 'But undercurrents are the most dangerous. So easily disregarded, overlooked. Till they overwhelm, drag you under and drown you.  And then it's too late. Too late for anything save to mourn.' The dispassionate part of her observed.

'But I have nothing to say.' The face on the plate now morphed into a torrid mess. Of nothing. Or what a baboon might splash on a canvas and others hail as art. The clatter of cutlery on plate. 

'Could you at least look at me?'

She looked up. Into the eyes of the man she'd shared her life with. Woke up to every morning. Stubble on the chin. Tousled hair now immaculately styled. The twinkle in his eyes when he grinned. His musky scent as they lay spent in embrace.

She saw the desire, confusion and the unspoken plea now written so plaintively on his face. She struggled for words to address his fears,  comfort her lover, her friend. But words failed her.

A flicker in his eyes. Like a passing shadow. Hurt, despair,  anger and resignation flashing past in quick,  silent progression. A silent movie on the face of the man she'd known and come to read like an open book. For his emotions unlike hers while equally intense, were open and undisguised.

Scrapping his chair back,  he rose. 'I can never tell what you're thinking. I'll get the bill. See you back at x at 7..'

 'Sit down!' The words unbidden, rang out like a gun shot. He stopped startled.  The forcefulness of her sudden ejaculation surprised her. Painfully aware of the curious glances from a couple of diners.  'Please.' she added. Not as an afterthought but one she really meant.

He settled back in his seat. A little warily she could tell, surprised by her sudden uncharacteristic outburst. With an apprehensive look that one would give a dog you can't decide whether to pat or risk having your hand bitten off.

Leaning forward, she grasped his hands. 'I love you dear.  But there are times I don't feel like talking.  And I never pretend when it comes to you. Why should I?  It's who I am.' He blinked, stunned by her unusual candidness no doubt she thought.

Then he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in tandem with his impish grin and it was like a burst of sunshine on an overcast day. "I Love you just the way you are." Short, simple but all at once the mood lightened. The iceberg of tension and unspoken expectations shattered.  And all at once she knew they'd be making wild passionate love later.

Still smiling and holding her hand,  he called for the bill. Grinning like an idiot or a kid with his hands full of candy. She mused. But my idiot. And she smiled in spite of herself.

Words

Take the words
Chew them up 

Wet with scorn.

Spit them back
Black with dread
Covered in webs.

Words mangled 

I lie here entangled.

Seasons.

Spring

Shoots burst forth from frost
Scent of crisp green growth abound
Birth pangs morning brings.

Summer

In dreams they whisper
Tales of old all gone bitter
Parched like sun scorched ground

Autumn

Flowers in the wind
Cascade in billowing streams
Rippling coloured hues.

Winter

Lances of ice pierce true
Blood blossoms red staining snow
See how my heart bleeds

Drugged

Your love, my Dear is like a drug.
Sweet, syrupy, sometimes abrupt.
Dark with meaning, Light with candour.

The companionable silences,
comfortable counterparts to the exuberant exchanges that follow.

Like butter on toast, a rose to my nose.
Tell me darling whenceforth I should go.
For your arms my love, are inviting me so.

Rain

I look out. At the rain.
A fine mist coalescing into a shower of silver needles.

Sharp and slanted into the wind. 

Before exploding in wet demise. Silver shards on the black asphalt .
As tongues of lightning fork across the sky. 

Brilliant flashes rending the black canvas of night.
Amidst the lazy drawl of thunder. 

And the symbolism is not lost on me.
Of you and I.
And the dance we dance, to a tune only we hear.
But for now all I think.
Is of my bed and how good it'd be.
As it rains.
And so I shall.

Salut

Looking back on the previous posts, an inexorable truth comes to mind. As the years pass, I post less.

Not out of any conscious effort to abstain from doing so. In fact, the opposite may probably be so. A general sense of lethargy, the mind numbing impact of work and the simple dearth of desire would probably explain the silence.

I've always believed blogging should be cathartic. The freedom to say what you want, when you want within the usual confines of the law etc etc. Which we all know as far as our little red dot is concerned covers the usual taboo areas of politics, race and to a smaller extent religion. None of which interest me much.

Life's too serious and tedious with work and mundane, nagging problems like what to have for lunch or when your stupid ass bills are due to be concerned/ want to be concerned about the above. But the general lack of impetus to blog or the need to discuss, rant or muse has played a part. Not to mention the instant gratification of other social media platforms like FaceBook or Path for a quick, dumbed down version of a rant or muse. Not quite as substantive and cathartic as a leisurely, measured blog post but instant. Much like a quickie, instant release then swiftly forgotten.

Which in some ways mirrors the current state of affairs in my personal life. We all want to settle down, to find that special someone to share your life with. But things can never be rushed and if you know that guy you're seeing now or you previously had the hots for is uncommitted or simply incompatible, be merciful. Remove that tumor of doubt, he's never going to commit. You'll never be compatible. Save yourself and him the time and trouble of a failed courtship or the inevitable emotional roller coaster ride that accompanies such courtships.

Carnal creatures as we are, our gut instincts honed over milennia of assessing suitable mates (be it purely for physical release or something more substantial) are often perversely right on the basest most primal levels of attraction.

I've been partying hard. More so than I have for quite while. Done a few bat shit crazy ass stuff. Made quite a few new yet steadfast friends. Kindred souls with a knack for fun in the company of like minded individuals without the inclination or need to judge. Sometimes, I'm tired of engaging intellectual conversations or clever ripostes. Sometimes, I just want to be a dumb bitch, laugh at stupid things and have a good time. At the end of the day, it's the company and the friends and principles you stand by that count.

Settling down is still the goal but like all good things it can't be forced or rushed. I'm tired of guys who can't commit, give excuses for their failings. Whackos who chase with a single minded vengeance then go berserk when you tell them that getting to know each other better may be a better idea than attempting to get into your pants (which to be fair is still an enjoyable idea sometimes). Exes who message that they miss you and have as much EQ and empathy as a sociopath.

Is it that hard to find a decent guy? For now, I'm happy with friends and stuff I enjoy. Won't say no to the occasional hot fuck though ;)

Leave ya with Lights by Ellie Goulding. 33 weeks and still No. 2 on the charts. Don't forget to turn the lights off when you're done. ;)

"Lights"

I had a way then losing it all on my own
I had a heart then but the queen has been overthrown
And I'm not sleeping now the dark is too hard to beat
And I'm not keeping now the strength I need to push me

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine It when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone

'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine It when I'm alone

Home

Noises, I play within my head
Touch my own skin and hope that I'm still breathing
And I think back to when my brother and my sister slept
In an unlocked place the only time I feel safe

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone

'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone

Home

Yeah, hee

Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone

'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

I Dreamt.

I dreamt of dreams without doors
Of love without wars.

That we could belong
In some place together for long

Of conversations without qualifications 
Of expectations without recriminations

That we talk as we walk

Only to find you stopped the talk
Much less walked the talk.

And I remain. Alone in my dream.
For some dreams are best left unshared.

Juxtaposition

Funny how rearranging a couple of words in a single sentence can convey a meaning so different from its original form. Some times the difference is striking, often it is subtle but upon further analysis no less different. Perhaps sometimes even more, given the subtle but profound nuances that convey shades of meanings not initially revealed at first glance.

Take the phrase 'Nothing with you is forever' and juxtapose that with 'Nothing is forever with you.' At first glance, the former may appear more pleasing to the eye. More grammatically correct. But the two are different, convey different meanings. Subtle changes most clearly seen from the difference in emphasis and the implicit nuances arising from such a swap.

And you realise that the latter is of no less merit than the former. For what is conveyed is different and neither sentence is a perfect replacement for the other.

But not all words and their meanings or combined nuances change in the reshuffled sentence. Most do not. Some in fact are limited by the very nature of the word. After all, how many meanings/inflections can one impute to a word like 'not'? The word 'Nothing' and its meaning remains constant in both sentences.

Nothing with you is forever. That, to my mind at least, emphasises the words 'with you'. Nothing remaining nothing, the nuances and impression conveyed is that 'nothing (I do/feel/think about) with you is forever'. Everything is temporal, transient. Like a passing breeze.

The emotions evoked are one of mild wistfulness, resignation and grudging acceptance of the seeming demise of a futile dream. A negative connotation, realistic, even pragmatic to an extent but sad nonetheless.

Then look at Nothing is forever with you. The emphasis this time to my mind appears to be on 'is forever'. Not to say the term 'with you' is unimportant or secondary. The emphasis is on the terms 'is forever' and the words with you follow after.

Just like the flesh is formless without the bones but fleshes it out and makes it whole, so too does the emphasis set the skeleton for the phrase with 'with you' fully defining the phrase thereafter.

'Nothing is forever' with you. And the nuances conveyed, the impression given is that nothing, the things we do, you say, we think, I feel, we express when with you is forever, constant, unchanging, fixed in stasis. It evolves, grows, changes with time, commitment and our actions. Where and how they will develop is anyone's guess but ours to decide.

We could talk of more permutations. Of how a single comma could paint the phrase a toxic taint of cynicism. (Nothing, is forever with you) Or from further rearrangements, construct an aloof observation (With you, nothing is forever).

But that was never the aim of this soliloquy.

And what's certain is:

Nothing is forever with you. Forever is nothing without you.

Essence of Absence

In absence the sun doesn't shine.
Peals of gold that divulge the paradigm
Of senses garbled blind
Riotous shrieks of colour
That mock the divine

Out of dark does light divide.
Fields which unfold before hungry eyes
Down the myriad hued tiers of paradise
The sun in yellow does arise
In essence, your love, my divine.

Repulsive regret.

Having moved on, I thought the selfish brat of the ex, as the last one shall henceforth be known, would have gone on with his life without a care in the world save for the usual bemoaning of how stupid the world is and the alleged idiots at his work place in particular. Sleep, Self, Work with the occasional Sex thrown in (on his terms) really defined his life. I was wrong.

Apparently Brat was emo the other day, posted some msg on his Facebook stating that he 'was still in love with (you)'. Got a semi excited message from a mutual friend, who meant well I'm sure, God bless her soul, alerting me to the same and proclaiming that she thought he, the Brat, was referring to me. Like I said, I'm sure she meant well knowing how much angst the tumultous relationship and subsequent breakup caused me.

Not that it mattered, he's history and there's very much someone special in the picture now. ^^. But I did message him a friendly message, enquiring which of his paltry past loves he was pining for once again in keeping up with his self-requested wish that we continued to remain friends after the breakup because 'I was a very nice person'. A masquerade that was wearing thin as a result of his idiocy, propensity to block me on whatsapp for no reason whatsoever and generally treat me in a manner you would not treat an acquaintance, let alone a friend.

His reply as usual was retarded. Reticient, bordering on the insolent. A short, curt 'Y u curious?' followed by a dismissive 'No.' and a 'Aiya anyway none of your concern la.' So when I replied with a short terse message that basically went yes it was none of my business but friends just talk in general and if he was going to be a jackass, he could take his so called request for friendship and screw it. That he'd always be single if he wasn't going to change and start thinking about his future partner for a change. And if he still pined for this lover of his, he should go for him but not ever find another as a substitute.

I was rewarded with a single no. 'Nobody no substitute.' And 5 mins later, because often when we were together getting a coherent, non-one word reply from him was often like winning the lottery, he asked 'So wad if I say is you?'. I wanted this sickening man to be honest with his feelings, to say what he could post on facebook but would never be honest about, so I replied 'Dun say wad if, say it if it is and I will tell you'. Fully intending to tell him when he did, that it was too little too late, I'd moved on, found someone who truly appreciated me and that he should seriously think about the other party and not just himself in a relationship.

Of course, I never got to say all that because he inexplicably (well perhaps not surprising thus far given his retarded attitude and behaviour) blocked me that very next minute after that single reply I sent. Which of course cheesed me off no end. I've moved on sure. But seriously wtf?? Such rude, recalcitrant and totally reprehensible conduct is simply mind boggling. And it annoyed me for at least 1/2 a day while on my holiday. Unforgivable.

What do u say to someone too rude to reply, too reluctant to be honest to his own feelings, too ready to give excuses, too random to analyse, too reticient to care, too rigged to lie and ultimately too repulsive to bear?

Nothing. And so I won't.

My only regret now is having wasted 4 months of my life, money, sweat and tears on this repulsive, gutless man who can't even be honest with his feelings and blames everyone but himself, and not moving on earlier. I know I've said before anger is an excellent purgative but a poor restorative. But believe me, right now, purging this Brat out of my life has never felt better.

Rotten to the Core

You weren't very promising to begin with.

Spiky on the outside, hard, unyielding, forbidding.With just the faintest hint of the fragrance within.
A heady, intoxicating mix, at once overpowering yet fragrant. The allure of the flesh therein.
So I tore my flesh from rending that skin, bloodied my hands on those treacherous spikes.
Just because I believed there was something worth the pain within.

Then delving deep inside, through the layers of spike, I saw at last the sought for sight.
Golden, yellow, creamy delight.
But the flesh was more bitter than sweet. It even made me weep.
Yet still I ate, confident that sweeter flesh did await.
But the seed I saw, was black and hollow to the core.

For you repaid trust with deceit, loyalty with disdain, support with scorn.
And I shall never partake of such fruits again.

Soliloquy

"Na" he said. Pushing a large black Mont Blanc paper bag at me without so much as the de riguer niceties. He was almost an hour late, no apologies, no explanations. But this was his SOP, the man I'd dated, the one who proposed and the face I'd addressed as 'Dear' for slightly over 4 months.

An impassive countenance that masked unfathomable thoughts. A face alien in its familiarity.

"Where you wanna go?" he quipped. "Weren't you supposed to have made plans?" I queried, that sinking feeling that often came hard on the heels of one of the many, many lows in our relationship setting in. He had none. "Let's go Orchard." came the monologue. And that was that. It'd always been the case for most of our relationship, him wanting to do something, eat something, watch something at his time, his convenience and of his liking. Inexplicably, I caved most of the time. At the risk of sounding like a corny old romantic, such is the power of love. No other logical reason to explain why an otherwise perfectly rational person (i.e. me) would not have thrown a bitch fit or let him have it as some of the previous ex-es (alas) experienced when they crossed the line.

Tonight was scant difference despite the change in status of the relationship. Apart from the choice of cuisine, everything went according to (his) plan. Dinner venue, dishes ordered, aimless, futile window shopping. Right down to his clockwork smoke breaks. I hated it. Yet I remained an obedient, silent follower to the imposed routine. With nary a thought of protest, a prisoner of my basest, most subliminal emotions. Emotions palpable in intensity, impossible to elucidate yet impossible to ignore. While the seat of reason and thought cries out stridently to abort, reject and terminate. Cries lost in the maelstrom of turbulent sorrow.

While he was at the gents, I sneaked a peak. At the mini complimentary gift card that inevitably accompanies such gifts. "Dear XX" it began.

"Happy Birthday & Best Wishes.

YY"
A cold clinical message in small neat italicized handwriting I always found so at odds with his rough, unpolished even halting manner of speech. No 'love YY', no hint of warmth in that greeting, not even a short explanation or thank you message for the 4 months that had flowed past. The message would have fit right in with the perfunctory well wishes one proffers to a superior, albeit an unpopular one.

My heart sank. But why should it? Why expect anything more from a lover turned stranger who had so flippantly cast aside what he once strenuously declared he'd hold on to? Why remain imprisoned by feelings that would be neither acknowledged nor reciprocated? So many questions, so few answers.

Though this much I know, the physical attraction and desire remains strong. That familiar set of his jaw, the boyish visage, the prominent pecs, the swell of his arms, the soft mound of his slight paunch, the shape of his ass, his swagger and smell all couple to form a heady, irresistible cocktail of desire and deep-seated longing. To hug and to hold. Which I guess is not helping the extraction from this emotional quagmire.

I know it's time to move on. I am desperately willing myself to. I know I deserve better. No need for the cries of the many well-wishing friends to reiterate what I already know. Though I am thankful for their support. But knowing and being able to do so are two very different things indeed. Though that is certainly no excuse. Anger may be harnessed in the process, to facilitate a speedy extraction from this quagmire.

But experience has taught this. Anger is an excellent purgative but a poor restorative. The medicine should not kill the patient. I have cause to be angry, I certainly was angry. But anger will not be the salve to soothe the wounds in the long run. I know I have to move on. It's just a matter of finding the strength and right medicine to do so.

A friend once said, the best way to get over a man is to get under another one. Now if only things were that easy.. heh.

Not. - Navi's Admonishment

Blame not the foul north winds,
for the rank stench of decay and complacency .

Look not to the sands of time,
for succor in your quest for redemption.

Shake not your fist at the barren heavens,
for its callous contempt for your cries of refreshment.

Cling not to finely wrought metal for comfort,
Cool to touch yet quick to burn.

Perceive instead the rot within,
the impatience, insensitivity, idiocy.
The face painted ogre you bedeck in finery.
The one you prostrate before in abject adoration.

And rouse,
from this reverie you so obstinately cling to.

SMD. 'K?

The evolution of a failed relationship - in three Letters.

Sell me Dreams;

Shake me Dizzy;

Suck my Dick;

Suck me Dry; then

See me Die.

Lies of the sky.

Do not lie,
when you talk of things that fly,
And jewels in the sky.

For in my mind's eye,
all I see are men that squirm beneath pewtered wings of vacuous glory,
And stagger with vapid smiles and fevered brows.

To where they do not know,
only to find what they do not seek.
As the world shudders with every step we take.

Fallen

I love your honesty, when you look at me with eyes that glow like liquid onyx, the purse of your lips tight and unyielding. The words unspoken, yet elucidated in every shiver you make, the nonchalant puffs you take.

I muse over your quizzical regard, the cock of your head. The remarks you make and the punishing speed of your gait. I ponder, dissect, dissemble, reconstruct every statement you make. To fathom your thoughts and the ticks that make you tock. Till I hear your raucous laugh and see your impish face.

I love the warm flush of your face, the rough crush of your embrace. Wreathed in smoky musk, your gentle probes, tentative, like in a daze.

I like that you will spare this post nary a thought. Perhaps grace it with a little snort. Like ballast to my heady helium, the Sun to Icarus. For I have already fallen, fallen for you.

Exodus

It used to be a good place to work. Friendly environment, good hours, decent work, shitty pay but hey something has to give and we were fully apprised of the fact. Comfortable, auto-cruise mode and you can understand why some people entered and stayed with a view towards retirement in the firm. I was even guilty of that once. Complacent and comfortable with the pace of things.

But times have changed, competition has picked up and while others are adapting and moving with the times, we seem to be stuck in a rut. Things have deteriorated slowly but steadily over the past couple of years. The laissez-faire attitude, lack of a clearly defined work structure and nelsonian blindness to changes, things which had initially appeared to be strengths of sorts, became afflictions. The absolute lack of system, the dearth of direction, the absence of channels of feedback, the wholly arbitrary and autocratic decision making all coupled to form a debilitating malaise emblematic of everything wrong with the department.

This in turn affected the work coming in, the quantity, scope and complexity of which began its inexorable decline. As one person noted aptly, the kind of work I'm getting and doing these days is sheer junk compared to what I used to be doing when I first started. Add the mind boggling attitude of senior management (i.e. those that mattered) towards the bread and butter areas of litigation, the lack of appreciation and transparency as well as an alarming tendency to ignore and address the problems on the ground, and you had a systemic failure of the system. If the current status of things could be regarded as a system that is.

The groundswell of discontent has hit the roof. What started out as a trickle, the first couple of resignations tendered has now triggered a tide. 6 in the span of 3 months with more to come. And soon pretty much the entire batch of associates will be gone in the next few months. The scariest thing is none of the problems have been addressed, not a single meeting convened, no damage control. All you see are a lot of worried faces, general denial and morale amongst those without plans dropping to an all time low.

You know you have a problem when all your associates are unhappy and are resigning en-masse in the span of less than 5 months. It's even worse when the resignations are not engineered for a walkout to a single firm but carefully considered decisions made to move to various places, united only by the collective conviction of the need to move and to move now. The total inaction and denial of the senior management based in no small part on a very myopic outlook of personnel replacement premised on replacing the seniors with cheap inexperienced trainees is stunning in its stupidity.

No one wants to be on a sinking ship. And right now that is certainly the sentiment on the ground. I'm glad I made the choice, for the path from now while harder, shall inevitably be more rewarding, more personally satisfying with a clear path for career progression. As for them, if nothing is done, they will find themselves with a dead department left to run very soon.

Lying with Liars

I remember that night.
As we lay in bed and you laid your head on my shoulder.
When I said the fault lies with none and that you should lay your cares on me.
I lied.