noise

The thumping music is giving me a headache.
The woman dancing on the bar is intruding into my space.
The beer they ordered is pushing my limits.
I question myself why am I not making an exit.
And I don't see the purpose of this badly-made limerick.  ¶


12:31 by aberwyn 2 comments

Sindee

A chance meeting.
Sparks flew.

A sordid affair
turned sour.

A young life
expired.

Media vultures
tore through the carcass.

Self-righteous hyenas
shredded it further.

"The truth!
We want the truth!"

The Truth.
Only three knows.

Two spins
their own tapestries of truth.

One became
Victim of the Truth.

A Game is played
to accept one version of the truth.

The Law
will prosecute the loser.

Nobody
will know the Truth.

No one
seem to remember..

a betrayed wife's
tears of disappointment..

a grief-stricken mother's
lament of bereavement..  ¶


14:35 by aberwyn 1 comments

We

"When we use the 'we' pronoun we place two people behind a joint action almost as if they form a composite being. Many languages have a special pronoun to use about two - and only two - people. This pronoun is called dual, or something that is shared by two... When this pronoun suddenly make its appearance, fairytale rules come into play, as if with the wave of a wand... 'We'll go for a walk!' It's so simple, Georg, just five words, and yet they describe a chain of events so pregnant with meaning that they go deep into the lives of two people on earth... 'We'll shower' Veronika said. 'We'll eat!' 'We'll go to bed!' You don't need more than one shower-head when the form is used. You don't need more than one kitchen and one bed."

~ The Orange Girl - Jostein Gaarder


When I looked back at the past relationships I had, I realised there was only one when I felt this 'duality' strongly. It wasn't a long relationship, lasting for about a year. In fact, it was not one that I remember much about. Yet, when I read the above, it was this particular relationship that jumped out and memories started flooding in.

We were seldom seen without each other in campus, or anywhere else for that matter. To even think of doing anything without the other was blasphemy. Friends felt weird when they see one of us without the other. Even the canteen operators knew us to be an inseparable item. When I was down and out, she was always there, even at the expenses of her parents wrath. When she was in need, I would be skipping lessons to be there for her. The concept of the individual 'I' ceased to exist. We were one, through thick and thin.

I guess it was a time youthful innocence, when the poisoned daggers of Life had not yet the chance to sink into one's vulnerable back, where the poison have not coursed through our blood, to make us suspicious and wary of even the closest one to us. It was a time when we loved with our heart, our lives.

As we trod through the Jungle of Life, sometimes bashing through the thick undergrowth, at other times walking along the safe and well traveled path, we learned to sit in a tavern with our back against the wall, observing the crowd, with our back protected. We learnt to shield our scarred heart from the elements. As times go by, we became survivors... and forgot what it is like to love wholeheartedly. We were obsessed with the need to survive in the Jungle. We became obsessed with Self. For fear of pain, or even selfish reasons like fear of being seen as an extension of the other being at the sacrifice of self, we chose to avoid opening our hearts to the significant other. We fear being seen as halves of an entity. It is always fear that makes us selfish.

------

I want to tell you that you complete me, but would you let me complete you?

------

'We' ~ such a simple word... yet so hard a mission to fulfill.  ¶


11:34 by aberwyn 3 comments

bed of roses

I want to lay you down on a bed of roses,
see the thorns pierce your skin smoothly,
enjoy the sight of growing red speckles,
beautiful contrast against the ivory canvas.

I want to see your wide-eyed wonder,
surprised at the beauty of this stanza.
I want to hear your exuberant song of fear,
to the rythmic drip of your lifeblood slipping.

I want to lay you down on a bead of roses...  ¶


14:56 by aberwyn 2 comments