I'm so afraid I'm screwing everything up

terms and conditions apply

you love me
but

there's a but

Lepidoptera

fluttering in the cold air
specks of silver catching glimmers of the rising sun

barely touching the water's surface

then


we drown


all it takes

-the wind

didnt really matter;

we only had six more days to live.
six pretty days.

i know.

1830

i was supposed to be there

i never made it

again

and again

and again
and

again

i know
saying this won't help but


sorry.

Curtains of Bel-air

What were the songs we used to sing
the ones we sang during those long nights that never really seemed to end but eventually did anyway.

What were the words I used to write,
the ones I wrote at the back of all your books just so you'd have something to read when you got home, bored.

Where did I put the stack of graphite potrait sketches,
the ones that never looked like who they were meant to be.

By now
looking out,

you'd probably have realised that

After a while


The questions come back,

haunting.
never changing.

along with the Lack of answers.

dear you

you are a wave
you swim out onto the shore- maybe wrestle with the starfish
see the sky, feel the sand, pool around the little feet of children
it's quite a trip is it not.

wading, floating

drowning

sinking


but

remember

back to the ocean that's where you'll go running back to,
on your knees,

against the crashing tidal waves,

pleading mercy

and you know it.

we all do.

p/s


don't bother.
waves can't use life jackets.

Robbie, the Beach and the Man whose technicoloured trunks could not be moved.

I dont know how long I walked today.
As I stood upon the beach, the wind bellowing against my skin caused the smell of salt water to saturate my pores.
I looked up into the ominous sky and it hit me that I was staring right into Time itself. The dark and light clouds alike shifted hurriedly across the powder blue sky as though in a race, no time to stop, no time to stop. Over my head and off to an uncertain destination.
It was like one of those perspective photographs where everything except your still, still body was in a constant positive velocity, speeding along an unstoppable current into Eternity.

I should probably note that my mother cautioned me against going to the beach as she briefly left for work, for fear of the looming dark clouds in the sky signalling a possible storm.

Of course, I still walked on anyway. People don't stop living today just because of some dark cotton candy in the sky. They don't. They still carry on doing their thing. Or maybe that's just exclusive to stubborn old me.

I made friends with this guy who owns a retired racehorse and I feel so haappy to be able to pet it and rub its forehead as much as i want everyday :) I rode him too.

I wasn't all too enthusiastic about spending a week out here. but ah.

I supposed I needed it.
I mean, look, I got my inspiration back, I'm writing for now.

And who would've thought that a someone I don't know whacked me into my senses again.

There's this lady about fourty who lives in the same building right now. Every morning, she gets up early, walks all the way down to the swimming pool and swims for an hour or so and then gets back by herself.

And she's only got one leg.

Every morning I wake up early, have breakfast, take long walks at the beach, play with a horse and laugh at strange old white men with their reddened faces and tight multicoloured swimming trunks. lol. (still so killing myself for not bringing the camera. ARGH)

Later on I walk some more until I get tired and return, maybe grab a chocolate bar from the shops. And sleep, sleep, sleep.

and I finally put it on paper...

.

...and realised it doesn't matter, my friend. There's nothing to feel. Leave because you can.