fake plastic words

11:55 PM
Categories: analog, beauty, dreams, film, fm2n, friends, lovers, memories, moments, past, tempest. Author: sleepwalker

18th June, 9.09am:

I slept the shallowest of sleeps. I retired to bed much too late and rose much too early. I had a strange, strange dream. My cats, an ex-girlfriend and I was in it. I dreamed that Dylan, Sid and Jonsi died. She knelt on their graveyard, her face dripping with sorrow, and sat there silently. She turned, suddenly, and looked at me long and hard. I couldn't tell what she was trying to tell me with that cold, solemn stare. I had already died by then. Time was of no essence. Every scene was juxtaposed without any beginning nor ending. The mise en scene was confusing. But I remember the bits and pieces. And I remember that it was strange.


19th June, 12:45am:

As of 4.30pm today, decades ago, I came into the world in complete silence with one eye shut and feet as long as my thighs. I did not yelp a single cry. For a brief moment, my parents went berserk thinking I was a half blind, mute, semi-disfigured baby with alien legs. Thankfully, that was just a temporary joke God played on them. For whatever reason, remains a cosmic mystery. Probably for all eternity.

Fast forward to today, I am a healthy, cynical dreamer with no definite plans for world domination. Yet. There is just too much to type out the story of my life. Too much have gone by, and there is too little time and much too large of an ego (to not come off as being a tad too narcissistic) to realistically write about one's autobiography in a single page.

"My body is my temple", they say. Though I don't know if that's the case for me. I wish it was otherwise, but that's just useless wishful thinking. Over the years, my mind, body and soul have been riddled with bullets of shitty diet, haphazard hangat-hangat taik ayam workouts, infinite amounts of sins, cigarettes, and general substance abuse. As a result? I have a memory of a goldfish, fitness of a 12 year-old, guilts of a Protestant gay priest, and a perfect pair of charcoal lungs.

My only consolation lies in my firm belief that mistakes are what we're made of. I'd rather go through a life of rollercoaster than to cruise through life mechanically and monotonously with hardly any memorable bittersweet moments of stupidity and disaster. I've had a difficult, yet colourful life. And I'm thankful for that.

I'm thankful for all the memories, good and bad. For the people, friends and foes and lovers and family, that have came and gone and stubbornly stayed. For all the wrong things that I have done to others, and others unto me. For all my mistakes, stupidity and immaturity in the past. For every single one of my failures. For every single gray day and hopeless moments of utter defeat. For all the memories, and that I still have a decently semi-working one to remember them all.

I'm thankful that I'm still breathing today. 'Cause y'know, I kinda like living. More so now than ever before. And I think there's still a lot of good I can do for myself and others; friends and family and strangers. I think so. Lets just hope that's not yet another wishful thinking.

"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than to be absolutely boring" - Marilyn Monroe.


19th June, 2:20am:

I watched Nosferatu halfway. It's an insult to the film to doze in and out of sleep, so I decided to lay it off till tomorrow. I hate sleeping.

2:33 AM
Categories: birthday, dreams, family, film, friends, gemini, gray days, health, lessons, life, memories, mistakes, night, past, quote, sleep, strange. Author: sleepwalker

You can see it in their eyes. Their hopes, fears, insecurities, and the abundance of masks they try to hide themselves in. Their past, present, future. Some people carry it in their eyes their lies and truths. You can sense where they've been before, their pain and anguish, and the changes that transpired later that made them the people they are today. That fiery passion, that blind determination, that peace of mind, that sincerity.

I saw that in her. She's a person twice my age with an energy of someone twice as young. She carried something in her eyes. I remember seeing her past, present, future. Her past was painful, difficult, it was full of emptiness and turmoil. Her present is a monumental sigh of relief, happiness and a peace of mind. Her future is full of unbreakable hopes.

But what really struck me was her sincerity. She carried such an honest, innocent heart. So much warmth, so much compassion. But at the same time with the maturity and realist of an experienced woman who have gone through enough in her lifetime to know how to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground without letting her ideals turn to aloof wonders and float about with careless childish abandon.

She turned to my mom and said, "You have a powerful son".

And one of the last things she said to me was, "I can see it in you. I believe. You can move the world".

Thank you. For your honesty. For your encouragement. For your hopes. For sharing your life with me for those brief two minutes. But believe me, you gave me so much more.

6:44 PM
Categories: conversations, dreams, hopes, life, moments, stories, thoughts. Author: sleepwalker

I love you in ways you will never know. In ways that even I am unsure of. In ways that I cannot comprehend. I loved you before, I love you now, and I will love you for a thousand tomorrows that have yet to come. This uncertainty, this pain, has been carved in the vacant walls of my heart for far too long. I lie to myself with hopes to forget, even for a fleeting moment, these futile thoughts. How can it be possible? How can it ever be possible? It may never be. You and I may never be.

But I love you anyway, irrefutably, irrevocably, unequivocally.

I yearn your presence.
I crave your laughter.
I dream of you.

You make me feel alive again.

(circa 2008)

6:06 PM
Categories: dreams, hopes, life, love, thoughts. Author: sleepwalker

I've traveled far and wide.

To beautiful landscapes and foreign cities. Through dreary back alleys and abandoned spaces. Skipping train tracks and lying on asphalt grounds. Swimming in droning moonsongs and existential thoughts. Drowning in the pages of fictional bedtime stories. Into and out of the lives of friends and lovers. To far reaching dreams that beacons my pathway and the mistakes that darkens it. To bittersweet memories that cuts my heart at every replay. To tumultuous journeys of laughter, blood, sweat and tears. To places so dark you lose yourself.

I've traveled too far.

There is nowhere else I'd rather be than now. At the most trying of times, this is where I begin to search for the person I lost a lifetime ago. The battles were never this difficult, the pain never this real. The fear of an impossible future. A dim hope. Nevertheless, a shred of hope. Maybe there will be better things to come. Maybe one day I'll find something meaningful. Maybe I still have a chance.

And maybe, there's still time.

(6.01pm, 7th December 2007)

4:26 PM
Categories: dreams, future, hopes, life, memories, mistakes, past, present, regrets, thoughts. Author: sleepwalker