Drown, Cappy, Drown

The captain, his ship,
s
i
n
k
i
n
g
bubbles of breath, bubbles of life
move on up, move on up.
It isn’t time for him
to move on up.
Deeper, where the jellyfish tingle-tangle,
dotting him with shocks,
sparks.
Explosions in the sea.
People on the surface clink their glasses,
continue their dancing.
Everyone has a partner.
And down below,
he can’t dance.
He doesn’t fight.
He doesn’t want to be saved.
But with the last bubble,
he moves. on. up.

And She Gets Me

Eyeboogers: Federico Garcia Lorca - Poema del Cante Jondo

Maryam. Siti Maryam Abu Bakar. I have no fucking idea what I'd do without her. We've known each other since we were thirteen, planned to travel the world together when we were fourteen, had endless late night phone conversations since we were sixteen. We've play-fought over celebrity crushes, written stories about rock bands together, even tried our hand and being in a band together (which sooo didn't work out). She's had her allowance cut off at least twice because of all the phone calls she made to my cell phone, which I'm trying valiantly to repay by being to the one to call her now. We've had differences, but never the drama. We've shared too many secrets to count, stuff too ridiculously naff or would put us in many a compromising situation if either one blabbed about the other's nasty habits. Our family history is so eerily alike it's crazy. No one else would put up with as much patience with the ranting and whining as we do each other. No one know me like she does, and I'm willing to say that no one knows her the way I do. I love her.

Which is why it's gonna break my heart when she leaves next year. I don't have that many friends. I never saw the point of having a large social circle. I'm perfectly comfortable with the friends that I have. But then you have different.. categories of friends, shall I say? There are friends whom you tell certain things to, and another bunch of friends whom you tell different certain things to. But with Maryam? I tell her absofuckinglutely everything. More than she probably needs to know. And we talk almost every single night, bitching about every single thing. So when she leaves, it's gonna turn me into a wreck. Of course I'll still have friends here. But not like Maryam. Melissa, dear sweet amazing Melissa, when she left, I cried my eyes out. I bawled like a two-year-old. And even though that was probably the first person I ever cried goodbye for to, that still wasn't so bad. I cried the day before she left, and there's the occasionaly whimper now and then. Now, more than half a year before Maryam's supposed to leave and I'm already shedding tears at the prospect of it. Who am I gonna talk about ____ to? Who am I gonna rant about ___ to? Who am I gonna gossip about ____ to? Who? Nobody has ever given me the level of comfort that her friendship has given me. Not even Faruq, my best friend. There's things I don't tell him. In a way, I guess this means that Maryam's on a higher level of friend. She's way beyond best friend. I don't even have words to describe it. I don't know how to explain it to you. I love her.

There will always be email, I guess. Calling cards. The odd sms or two. But it won't be the same. Maryam, Melissa, Elaine, I could just call them whenever I felt like the world had turned to shit and any one of them would be able to come to my rescue. Now Elaine's left. Melissa's left. Sure, Melissa's coming home soon, but only to leave in a few months. And now Maryam's gonna leave and I fucking dread it. I know it'll only be for a few years. But by the time she's done, it'll be time for me to leave. I hate it. It'll just never be the same. I honest to goodness have no clue what I'd do without her. I love her. I love her. I love her.

I'm Not Maria Jose

I told myself over and over and over again that I didn't want to go there. And yet here I am. Here I am in that exact same state of mind I was in three years ago. yesnoyesnoyesnoyesno is hammering into my head. MAYBE. Yeah, that's it. I hate that word more than anything right now. Maybe. Goddamn-fucking-MAYBE.

There is a point in time when one just feels like curling up into a coccoon, even though she has made peace with never finding peace. But instead of becoming a butterfly, chances are I'm just going to shrivel up and waste away. I don't know what I'm meant for. I don't know where I'm meant for. And us much as I hate to say it, as much as I'd love to think that I need him, I don't know who I'm meant for.

Coccoon time. I'll be back.

Singaapuraa

The ONE day I wanted to go out. And the rain gods in Singapore decided to have a party. Babi.

Fuck it, I’m taking an umbrella.

Presenting, The Result Of Procrastination

( ) snuck out of the house (seriously!)
(X) gotten lost in your city
(X) seen a shooting star
( ) had a serious surgery
(X) gone out in public in your pajamas
( ) kissed a stranger
(X) hugged a stranger
(X) been in a fist fight (does taekwondo training count?)
( ) been arrested
( ) done drugs (been wanting to try speed, though)
(X) had alcohol
( ) laughed and had milk/coke come out of your nose
(X) pushed all the buttons on an elevator (all the time)
( ) swore at your parents
(X) been in love
(X) been close to love (even better than the former, may i add)
( ) been to a casino
( ) been skydiving
(X) broken a bone (twice, without even realizing it)
(X) been high (on sugar and life)
( ) skinny-dipped
(X) skipped school
( ) flashed someone
( ) saw a therapist (i need to)
( ) played spin the bottle (i want to)
(X) gotten stitches (i had to)
(X) drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour– or water
(X) bitten someone
(X) been to Disneyland
( ) gotten the chicken pox (20 years old and still uninfected)
( ) kissed a member of the same sex
( ) crashed into a friend’s car
(X) been to Japan (transits count!)
(X) ridden in a taxi
( ) shoplifted (i’m so good that way)
( ) been fired
(X) had a crush on someone of the same sex (jessica alba, oh droOoOoL)
(X) had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back
(X) stolen something from your job
(X) gone on a blind date
(X) lied to a friend
( ) had a crush on a teacher (except for michael vartan on never been kissed, yum)
( ) celebrated mardi-gras in new orleans
(X) been to Europe (aah, Paris in winter)
( ) slept with a co-worker
( ) been married
( ) gotten divorced
( ) had children
( ) seen someone die (i’ve seen people on the brink of death, if that counts)
( ) had a close friend die
( ) been to Africa
( ) Driven over 400 miles in one day
( ) Been to Canada
( ) Been to Mexico (God, I WISH)
(X) Been on a plane
(X) Seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show (don’t remember much of it now)
( ) Thrown up in a bar
( ) Purposely set a part of yourself on fire
(X) Eaten Sushi
( ) Been snowboarding
(X) Met someone in person from the internet
( ) lost a child
(X) gone to college
( ) graduated college
( ) done hard drugs
( ) tried killing yourself
( ) fired a gun (i missed gun training during police cadets, damn)
( ) purposely hurt yourself
(X) taken painkillers
(X) miss someone right now (missa and faruq mostly. sigh)

Okay, let’s get some real work done.

(Does anybody watch Laguna Beach on MTV? That Stephen kid is hot)

Definitely Maybe

I think too much.

Paranoia snacks on my guts, wasting away my insides until the only skin and bones and too much hot air is left. I think THINK overTHINK every littlebittybitty detail. whywhenhowwherewhowhat munching away happily on my heart. My brain is frazzled like a steak left on the grill too long. My fingers are tap-tapping on every surface. My legs won’t stop bouncing.

I’m thinking about nothing and everything. Anything and something. SomeONE. Him. Him who occupies the space continuum I call my thoughts. Him who makes me laugh. Him who makes me want to be. Him who sings like an angel. Him who ♪wants to sleep his way to the top, who wants to be POPular♪ Him the dork, the blind blind bat. Him, the sprinkling hot piece of ass. Him with the (finally) beautiful masculine hands.

Why him why now. Spending a week in isolation with someone and coming out even deeper than you were before confirms it yes? Does he want me? He suspects something I’m sure. And he knows how I look at him has changed. With everyone else it’s immediately ‘wowIthinkhe’sreallycute’ but with very VERY very few I take twenty gazillion years to admit it. To make sure that it’s right.

It took me a while to confess. And it feels right. For now. It does. It does. It really does. It won’t last. I know it won’t. But I want him anyway. I do.

(Stop shaking, leg. Stop shaking, hand. Stop shaking, heart.)