不说出的温柔

喜欢抒情摇滚，因为它的爆发力最能带出情感等待决堤的力量。一种努力压抑，却最后还是释放。当中有一段不长不短的等待，接着是无奈，然后释怀。有时候爆发出的，是绝望，是放弃，是勇敢，是希望，是决心。但始终 如一的，是一种不顾一切的潇洒。喜欢这样的勇气。

a happy dance

ching tells me her heart does a happy dance whenever she sees josh. i imagine that it's a sort of excitement? my heart doesn't do the happy dance for anyone anymore. or did i ever? i dunno. it's just hard for me to imagine how it might feel like anymore. i feel like those robots with Artifical Intelligence trying to comprehend human love in futility. haha. i never thought i would be here in this position. i thought i had to be a master of emotions, knowing and understanding every human emotion. but empathy is not the same of being capable of feeling those emotions myself, i realise. but it's not a missing part that i have to fill up. not yet.

i'm glad to be here, an unspoiled haven,
fertile soil for my musings without having to answer to anyone,
or scream against the howling wind for it to stop
and hear what i have to say.
for this is my ground, my words and my solace.
i hope no one else trespasses, i hope i don't let anyone in.
the call last night drew the life out of me
as i felt the worldliness in her slowly consuming her voice,
and me heart trembled in fear
and finally sank in oblivion.
it was a bad experience; i've been there before.
and i let myself dwell in that again.
it's not good, not good for her, not good for me.
i need to be more spiritual i know.
to save her from this crazy world.
and to keep myself safe, too.

eulogy

was it a few days ago?
that the rain receded as fast as it came, all in a matter of 2 minutes.
it came, just to induce tears,
down the face by the window.
that window, streaked with rain, silent.
and i couldn't speak nor turn my face away.

i remember, so long ago.
everytime you toss my sister up into the air,
chuckling with laughter and with smile in your eyes,
my heart raced and i was afraid you'll drop her.
but you were unafraid, tossing her higher, higher, higher.
i thought you might even hit her against the ceiling or something.
silly me.
you'd ruffle my hair, bend down to my height and ask me to visit you someday when we bid farewell.

i thought of your broad shoulders, your strong back and your big hands.
how you used to walk so swiftly with big strides,
as if the decades of age added onto you were just numbers and nothing more.
and you never merely spoke, but bellowed with your low voice.
so loud, i thought you had a mic hidden somewhere.

i remember thinking what a handsome man you must have been, in your youth.
strong, confident and brave.
year by year, i wondered if you were really as old as they say.
i watched your graying hair turn white,
but i see the zest in you.
i heard my parents talk about how you're really getting old,
but you continue to seem so strong and healthy to me.
you still bellowed and laughed so heartily.
i saw how you needed your walking stick one year,
and i finally understood the inevitability of time.

a man, who pulled through the death of a son, who looked after a wife who went blind grieving, who was a dear friend.
a man, who left at the age of 80, peacefully in his sleep.
a man, whom i only knew as Uncle.