Soul Queen.

Fields of Gold

Getting back on feet after a fall was never easy. Well, this depends greatly on how big a fall you've had. No one ever had a good way to categorise a fall. Or should I say, it's subjective. However, if you do feel me, feel me saying that the intensity of anything is never meant to be measured by time. Mom was worried, so I see. And she's been rendering support the way she has never really done in the past.

As a result, the other living organism who suffers apart from myself is Sparky. I went to her today and was astonished to see her sleeping on her own faeces. Hay was everywhere, food pellets too. She looks like she belongs in the slums. I feel guilty but things would have been better if Brownie was still around, I am sure. Just like me, we are both entrapped in a predicament that's forcefully inflicted upon by someone else. Hers being me, mine being someone of certain significance. The difference here is that I am the only one who can get her out of this mess and I am the only one who can get myself out of this mess. What a tricky situation.

Old English turns me on. I chanced upon a note from a stranger who uses words such as beauteous and desiderata; I raised a brow. Impressed, I knew I had to reply. English, English, English! Never would I have thought I'll be this influenced by Dickens. This set me on a mental frenzy, thinking about things I used to very much ponder on five years ago.

Five years ago, I was living the expired teenage dream of being a waif. I've walked Ann Siang Road alone many times, with a notebook in hand and scribbled anything which came to mind. Poems, proses, notes and pompous words which I believe will one day come of use knowing I'm so melodramatic and such a sucker for riddles and gnomics. Five years ago, I was cold with walls as high as skies fenced around myself. I was the core and no one mattered. Gradually, the layers began to shed.

Time is the best solution to any problem. After all, it was Time which got me away from Bennett. We tried chasing Time but its innumerable horsepower always beats us to it. We are all its slaves and yet at the same time, it's the only thing which can save us from ourselves. Time sheds clarity and with time, truth unveils.

Without truth, we're all savages.

"So you may ask, what's the truth here Westminster? Well, I would say, the truth being I being the most inconsiderate and selfish brute. And it is most unfortunate that you found and dug out a piece of broken bone from the fields of barley I've ploughed for you. Look upon it here. It was gold, grandiosely shining in the beating rays of the evening sun and it was for you. I've worked on the field and ploughed it just for you. And no, it wasn't a field of romantic purple lavender because it'd be impractical to, for I know purple was never your favourite colour. Gold was, you love anything shiny. The broken bone here, having unearthed, tainted the whole picture. You see, it was never meant to be unearthed, I've been trying to keep it away, far from your sight and senses. You found it eventually - an act of God's will if you may say! 

I have dreams to chase. When they materialise or at least, when I've found the first step of stairs which will lead me to them, I'll come to you again. Then, make this a chase that's hard, but not too hard."

"But Westminster, it was never Cissy's wish to have found the broken bone. You call it an act of God if you shalt. And I've forgiven. So why is it impossible for you to stay? Time with its innumerable horsepower will beat us to it. Won't it be a shame if we embark alone now that we're standing together at this crossroad finally and after a five year hiatus? Weren't you wanting this five years ago? Will we grieve upon this loss when we realise we're unforgettable? Who are we to challenge Time? We are not Greek Gods here, we don't wield swords nor do we control the rain. But if you must go, remember me, the nights and days we spent, the moments we created, and if you may, the times we kissed."

Then wear the gold hat, if that will move her.

If you can bounce high, bounce for her too.

Till she cry "Lover, gold-hatted, high-bouncing lover,

I must have you!"

-Thomas Parke D'Invilliers (Francis Scott Fitzgerald)

Milestone #Leo

It's amazing how time works its way around things. A good one week ago, we promised to re-visit this singer at Rick's, One Rochester. And things right now are pretty fucked up; the predicaments I'm facing are beyond me. Unable to comprehend the gist, reason, and letting 'why' constantly running all over my mind, I broke down when my iPod Classic of 3 years decided to - you guessed it - broke down on me.

Tried to reset, went to iPod/support and racked my brains out sans the opening up of it, I decided to give up and went out to get myself a iPod Nano. From 80GB to 16GB, from black to white (because they ran out of black), songs remained at a count of 2222 and everything else is still pretty much the same. Well, there's Nike fitness pre-installed in it and this comes in handy when I start to run again very soon. As if the current 'me' now is not intimidating enough, I decided to crown myself a true blue Greek Goddess in a matter of months (narcissism is my middle name, you don't know this?). God knows why I lost all motivation to get back in shape after the sixty laps I swam a few weeks ago but I shall dedicate my focus into becoming beyond reach. 

You can't kill me if this is what you want. What gravitas of your words they bear? 

Metaphorically speaking, the break down of my beloved iPod Classic shed some light into the clarity of things that are taking place now. 3 years, three months, whatever the span of time, if it's beyond repair, it's beyond it. Let's replace it with a younger option then. You guessed it.