We need vending machines for:
A hug when we are weary
Moonlight for romance
Humanity when we are unfeeling
Unwavering courage when scared
Some smiles for gloomy days
A can of hope for the desolate
Open doors for prodigal sons and daughters
Freedom for all to take.
Just a random thought: 😉
I’d rather have a
Million little happy things
Than one hefty one.
Filed under Uncategorized
I was going to respond to Writing 101 but they want letters so oh well. Anyway, I got ‘plastic’, just apt to exaggerate this true story’s original conversation topic a bit for kicks, written in colloquial English:
Me: Eh… So you really want to do plastic surgery next year in Korea har?
He: (Not looking up from his tablet but nodding his head) Mmm.
Me: (Brandishing pic of hot Kpop hunk) Then may as well make nose also, like this.
He: (Still not looking) No need lah I only want to remove the lines on da face.
Me: Aiyah spend money already may as well do more. Then look like Korean star. Then after that we take wedding photo again there and tell everybody I got married again to a Korean hottie. (Waves hot Kpop hunk photo in front of him again.)
He: (Finally looks up. Stares at the photo a while, then nods his head before returning to the tablet.)
Moral of story:
Men: Never agree to anything your woman asks of you when you are distracted on your phone.
Women: Always ask for what you want when your man is distracted on his phone.
I was just thinking about this while revisiting past writings.
When the nights get too long
And sleep keeps a distance
When the pain and sorrow
– or anger – threatens
When the soul is weak
And the heart grows restless
Heavy thoughts build up –
Worry, paranoia, guiltiness
Tear away from those chains
To reality that bind
And sprint like a madman
Away for a while.
What, flight’s delayed?
But I need to go ay-sap!
My laptop’s waning
My phone batt’s ebbing
I need to update my status
Post a post, tweet a tweet!
I guess I’ll go to the cafe’s
Get a cup of coffee
Maybe chat a bit with the waitress
Get into the locality
Lucky I’ve got my
Trusty ol’ pen
My ticket to revisit
Those days of writing by hand.
I thought I chose love
When I let go of
Beliefs, so you can be
Here with me
I thought I chose love
When I changed into
What I hope is better
Than what was me
I thought I chose love
When you showed me
It took more than love
For love to live
Yet
It was love that chose me.
Had done this some time ago but was waiting for part three to kick in. I guess part four’s a rebel that ran away with me.
Funny how the simplest things are always the toughest.
Wryly, I pressed the knob on my phone and watched the screen light up for the umpteenth time then wane again. I sighed and turned my attention to the mangled slip on the table. The faded numbers called out, familiar yet distant.
I’m too old for this, I griped silently. I turned the screen back on and unlocked it. The message I composed looked up and I stared down at it a while before I keyed in those crumpled digits.
Then I sent it.
For the rest of the day I immersed myself in work, refusing to give in to my curiosity. Yet when I finally checked my phone, still a tinge of disappointment with the non-reply. “Well, at least I’ve done what he asked.” With impending deadlines, I quickly shelved the incident from my mind to focus on them.
—
“… so with the new tone that the client’s looking at, we’ll have to tweak the copy a bit…” Another meeting with more edits. I was taking notes on my phone almost frantically when an incoming call interrupted my fingers. Apologetically, I excused myself and placed the phone to my ear, walking briskly out of the room.
“Hello? Sorry, who’s this?”
“Ah. Hang on please.”
I could hear two voices in the background as I waited, then a rustle and someone spoke.
“Hello.”
I froze.
“Hey it’s you. Good to hear from you. I was thinking you might not have gotten my message.”
“Yes, I got it. Sorry I didn’t reply till now; it’s been hectic.”
“I can imagine. So yep, ankle’s fine, no worries.”
He laughed; that nasal, deep chuckle.
“But there’s one part of the message I didn’t quite get. You said you didn’t mean to ask for my autograph?”
“Oh… er, it’s a long story, but never mind. It’s good anyway.” Damn, shouldn’t have added that in.
“So you didn’t want my autograph?”
“Er… no, that’s not what I meant! I mean er… ahh…” I was tongue-tied with the sudden need to explain, worsened by the knowledge that the whole meeting entourage was waiting for me.
“Yes?”
“Erm…. can I call you back? I’m….um, actually in a meeting.”
“Ah, sorry to interrupt. Yes, you can call me at this number any time today.”
“Okay. Sorry about this. I’ll get back to you.”
“Sure. Hear from you then.”
“Alright, bye.”
– End of part four –
As I lie on my bed
His music passes through
My being and tints it
Grey skies and silhouetting trees
The occasional swallow flits past
For a moment time flows
As the sun rises
Slowly, healing.
Awl and Scribe 