Epiphany.1

Rouse me gently,
thy patterns of blue.

Swing me tender,
whilst you are ready
with the shades of warm
once immersed.

Droplets and Sunshine.

Misty was the morn,
sounds like someone had woken me up
a foil rustle, was it...

Hmmm.
No, it wasn't.

I have to really listen to myself, as the repetition murmured.
Bells on my dermis bloomed.
then I heard a tune of solemn in my head.
Makes me wonder what was the weep about.
But it was a melody of melancholy.
Was it a projection or a
reflection...

xxx

I kept it all concentrated,
as I had my positive energy all channeled through.
Knowing I were to be put through tests to get by,
was actually, an acknowledgement - that message, somehow.

Please be patient,
I told myself.

I knew where not to head
as much as my nature was to be designed as such.
I knew I couldn't afford to step in
as I bury in the pool of remorse.

Should not my leash convey that I am all restrained,
for/but my intentions are just to shower you a can of fresh air,
and a ray of sunshine.

I will smile too!
If all allows.

xxxxx xxxxxxxx

A Man who Can't Tell Time.

To lost the ability to count,
swimming within an envisioned time line,

rather not know, the space I exist on.


What is a year with - three hundred and seventy four days, or lesser, or more.

What does the cycle of repetition matter, as seasons change, or summer stays.

The value of decimal captures no more of how far I should disperse.

Limits no speed, nor countable nouns, red I shed, or of any circumstances.



It is only I,

the sky and its reflection,

maybe some sand on the palm.


And vague, pictures...

No, pitch black.





Sitting by the sea,

counting stars.

Little Girl, There.

We were this close, this close... see this tiny gap between me thumb and the index finger?

I only got to hear about you, and it seems that nothing could change that pattern of relation, I'd assume.

And when I do, I smile, cause you reminded me of someone.


I think it is the entrapped mentality that we caught ourselves stuck within,
seems that we never failed to have talked ourselves to the bridge over water,
whenever allowed.

Somehow, our personal, distinctive encounters just made me ponder...
though its another unnecessary linkage, ...that I doubt any other would have poured any effort to fathom this mere subject.

It felt good when I sat down and analyse how it was, you know, finally there, without a plan, but with utmost blessings.

It was a show for myself. Though legs still shaky and wobbly.

Maybe one day, one day you'll understand.



It would be pleasant for me too.

Shout.

As uncivilised as it seems,
I feel like shouting to you...
through the hills
through the thin walls
through some hundred miles
through the virtual space


It is like a market place as we dwell;
when I intended to respond to you,
I masked it with my sight, my movement, my volume
...but my tone stays the same
only for you to read no more.


So much left disorganized in between
so much pile of waste
pollution
scribbles
junk
ashes


How could darkness be defined so meticulously,
as compared to the light I saw.

Please forgive my barbaric actions.

...for I want to be heard.

Identical.

I stepped into a house of music, least that I'd call it, that is.

It wasn't too lavish to begin with,

but it was all embedded, all from the tips of the man.



To see what this lady is doing,

doing all, to prove her existence.

Not for the sole purpose of that,

it was means over ends.



I was inspired.



It came to me,

this identical personification that we drew.

I was about to ask for permission,
if I can do it, one day.


And I will be able to sing for you.


As in, you don't have to know how to sing,

or express in any particular manner.

I will, and I want to do it for you.



I promise, I will not put myself in the picture,

and that I wouldn't interfere.

Just like how it was.


I'll be your quiet jukebox.


And I'll sing you this song.

Dear Gerbera.

Yes you, the one in orange.

Have I told you that I had once secretly dreamt to be a botanist?

It wasn't part of being materialistic.

Neither it was part of the industrialized mechanism, imprinted on blank faces.

You are a creation of wonder, equally as magical.

No, my dear, I wasn't being conned and blind folded.



I just... really want to love you more,

more than I have ever should.

You never fail to stand straight, with pride,

...as you greeted with your warm signature vibe.

You would have to leave some day,
I knew.

And I knew that you wouldn't have it done harshly,
gentle as silence,
always...you are.



To my dear orange Gerbera.

Flip.

I flipped some pages back,
it was really very inspiring, you know.
Rejuvenation, it was.

You might have remembered, or you might have not,
but it was a rather exciting journey with you.

It was.



If you have ever seen a pink butterfly around,

that would be me.

Just wanna tell you that I'm doing good.

And that you do not have to worry about me.


And you will be ever- wonderful.



Sekian, terima kasih.

Confessions of An Impersonator.

Reading between the lines,
I became your impersonator, as I continue.

I am the embodiment of knowledge,
despite of the fields I expertise in.
I am the all rounder, a black hole of truth, yet but still a creation,
perfectly crafted, near to- not to mention.
I represent the archetype of the existing model,
though it has been skewed far towards the original, in a pace of gradual.
I crept my roots strong and firm, extended, strong and firm.

It feels good to be you.

If I were you,
I wouldn't have had a chance to fall.

My journey could have been formed in another milieu of possibilities,
away from what was written.




I were you in a mere span of 5 seconds.

Unravelled.

I remembered whispering to your ears
on the light of the anticipation of Mondays.

It was a slight reversed mirror image of the ecliptic route,
a constant race with the rays of the sun,
Believe me, it wasn't just about seeing you.



A season has come to change,
and I couldn't help it but to look back for a grasp,
rather not on how it was shaped,
but how happiness was redefined.



I wish you a splendid journey.

That's What Friends Are For.

Was it easy to fathom why one would
deceive the mass with an attack of emotions.

Was it a myth that lies under the context of friendship,
only to be hoped upon.

When I sat down and tried to analyse,
I couldn't help but to deny what was tried to be conveyed.
It was a failed intrapersonal communication.

How was I suppose to carry it with my endless capacity of generosity.
How was I to believe what I sing, to lead my fellow singers.
How was I to be believable, to catch the hearts of the audience,
to tell them what I went through was only but a glitch, not a fraud.

Internalization was told to be the best way of simulation.
What was I to do if the voice speaks otherwise.

I learnt that one that you may call a friend today, might be denounced in the future, for certain reasons.
How am I supposed to turn back to you when the statement has already been made clear, formally announced.












For a moment, you were among the audience.
I beamed a smile, not because I was told to do so, but it was the last that I'd like to leave you with.
I sang with you in the picture. It wasn't hard at all, I didn't have to fight, it was all that I would want to give,
it was for you.


And I
Never thought I'd feel this way
And as far as I'm concerned
I'm glad I got the chance to say
That I do believe I love you

And if
I should ever go away
Well then close your eyes and try
to feel the way we do today
And then if you can remember

Keep smiling
Keep shining
Knowing you can always count on me
For sure
That's what friends are for

For good times
And bad times
I'll be on your side forever more
That's what friends are for

Well you came and open me
And now there's so much more I see
And so by the way I thank you

Oh and then
For the times when we're apart
Well just close your eyes and know
These words are coming from my heart
And then if you can remember

Keep smiling
Keep shining
Knowing you can always count on me
For sure
That's what friends are for

In good times
and bad times
I'll be on your side forever more
That's what friends are for




Despite the circumstances
that halt us from our journey
I shall have this dedicated to you
and that it would be sealed, delivered and anticipated to land to you soundly.


Love.

Greenbelt.

I wonder if I was like a summer breeze,
if I had kept you warm,
and if I had softly leave.


How am I supposed to run free without having you intervened.



I had already lost you; having fragments died off, too.
What more is left to be fear of, you see.
It was long gone.
You were long gone.

Drive.

And I saw you.
Panicked, I stood afar.
I lost control.





Were there moments that I strolled along highways.
Knowing that we wouldn't be given a frame to be intersected, with minor probabilities.
As much as I love to drive, senses always hint me cues of residues that you left,
I guess it was already programmed deep down.
Hence it couldn't be refrained from the wake.

The exercise was for fun, most of the time that is.
Sometimes, imagination was drew upon.
They were like jigsaw puzzles, labyrinths, or maybe the Scrabble games that we used to crack our heads on...
Though I found myself in a warning district, occasionally.



I was driving into the other dimension. It was definitely out of the perimeters from the clouds of gray, it was where I knew I would head to, and I
never I thought that I would see you.

It was like somewhere in heaven.


In reality, I turn out to be pathetic.






I saw you.
Panicked, I stood afar.
I lost control.

As It Is.

Who else still talk about the weather.

Amongst the possibilities of having something more interesting to start with.



It leaked out of me, if you were around the corner,
I think you might have liked that.


It was a lunch time with mild sunlight, yet enough to warm your skin.
The breeze was as gentle, much that I could feel a girl dancing in whirls.

It reminded me the days once I had, I once lived with utmost sincerity.

...felt so good that I thought of you.





Sunshine

Unmechanized.

亲爱的
你不再沮丧了
真替你开心

当我看见你的露骨
你的动与态
能量把我给送了 然而 我穿梭
似乎


似乎


似乎
眼里只有你
我也消失了


你残留给我的
不是缠绵
是心疼
是温柔
是微笑

这是一个我
或许传送不了的讯息
却是个我会拟造的一个
违反黑白的迹



尤记得
曾长留在哪

(A)Symmetrical Miscalculation.

Every last encounter is not to be concerned, it is only but a consequence.

Every tick has its span magnified, as I roamed across the air of bloom.


I just couldn't do it, I tried so hard, but I just couldn't do it.










An intersection.

There wasn't any better reason to explain the passiveness,


but what ran to me was raw,

unintentional, and unadorned.

I was glad that we could meet again.





It had grown inside of me.



p.s. : I tried to look into your eyes and smile.

Have I Told You:

when I woke upon realization-

that I started talking to myself so much that the other self actually felt the nag,

it was the moment I found myself missing you.

Remnants of yours protrude.


And oh, how warm and cosy it remains.

A Grandma Story (Not for Beds).

"Fair enough"
was what that came out from your thoughts.

It was then transcribed as a message, carried by synapses travelling in the blink of speed, expressed through the extension you sometimes adore, popped with the accompaniment of a triggering audio, ...it always give me buzzes.

And it trails, till today.

Goodness of yours dispersed in a gargantuan quantity, generous, as usual. In the existence of cacophony is the opposition party, vanished in silence, cause kept to be unknown. Without even scrutinizing, my dear, this is a rebound to square one,
Come, sit aside me, I'll tell you what I think of, just like how you sip your coffee.

I fathom your desire of the form of submission, to your questions, that is. The root that you parasite on has paid its time, it had its cycled run, even after death. Goodness of the practitioner wouldn't come to you in this dimension, as it makes no meaning, as the purpose is nullified. Then again, what is it that you seek for?





Wise one, I wish to speak.
Why did we collide in the designed force and motion, in the given space?
Was it for the present, I ask.
Is the design meant to be definite?

Mustn't I feel sad nor sorry for the aftermath, for I hold zero control of the circumstances.
I have came to a point that a reflection has mirrored upon, a result of the condition that was compiled by a series of involuntary outputs.

The vision is drawing closer, I believe.

I shall close my eyes, just as the film suggested.

Eid Mubarak.

May you be showered by blessings of loved ones, and also from the Al-Mighty.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri.

:)

Ga Ga Gu Gu.

You did it, anyway.
I didn't need to compare.

Should I have just responded in a different manner,
just to build a superficial form of pleasure,
to think that I hold the manipulation of sweet venge,

just to hide the fact that I was the loser.

I found out that I was heart broken,
when she told me so.

When I see you as a depiction of cowardice,
I cried so badly,
I lost control.



Take it,
go away, and never come back again.

Skip like Dorothy Not.

I wonder if the floor fathoms your idea of such embodiment.
Skipping like Dorothy hardly made sense to the context sipped within the wooden planks, plastered walls and dusted frames of promotional. If there's any that would subscribe to it, it might only be minimal.

It failed to be part of the mise en scene.
Brushing shoulders of the fact that you were trying to blend in for an easier outcome of a two way communication.

Fact is, I love it when you intrigued us with your imagination, conveyed by words. The light I used to see when you lead us to a certain expectation of various levels and dimension, it was where I had a sensation of having my spine synapsified. It was like a mental ripple that I was struggling to cope with, yet, never the search has halted.

I never skipped like Dorothy.

But I'd thank you for having us all transferred into a supposed frame of artwork.

Bagpipes.

Remind me as you tap my shoulder,
as you left pale petals on my bedside,
as you I came into picture when you used my line.

Remind me as you whistled a random tune,
as it flashes to you how clumsy I'd become,
as you heard my silent chills tickle your spine.
(yes, I intend to have them sent)

Remind me like how I used to do it to myself,
as you paint walls with new colours,
as you dance in joy, I once witness,
and as you drop by and say Hello.

Remind me of who you are,
what was the past,
and those that stay true, still.

A gentle one will do.

Weaving......

Oh yes, I might have that ability, hidden and yet to be explored.
It would be nice, I thought,
to have a pick of your choice,
just that its not a video shop you entered,
they were - beautiful, lucid still images.

And I anticipated before I roam into the black space.



x x x



I was half awake when it rang.
Yes, it was unlikely, but it was conditioned on the night before.
Over and over I tried to cut off the patterns of repetition,
in the end, I bounced in shock,
as I thought the repetitions had accumulated an outstanding price to pay.




Nah.




In fact, it was a dream of resent that I was stuck in.
It was bitter, it was a struck.
A song of melancholy starts to sing in my head.




Oh hey,
wasn't it supposed to be tapirs to be weaved?
What was that all about.
What had I weaved myself into.

Fail ni.

Stifled Platform 8.

No more than the last moment it tried - to speak,
She broke down onto four, on the ground,
trying to balance herself in one piece.

Was it too much of a strain, that she had been holding on,
clinging on so tightly,
...no,
she had let herself absolute power to her feelings, to her senses,
...the shield was built involuntarily.

Shattered in front of herself,
is what she is accounted for, a responsibility.
That was a message, actually.



***



I woke from the sun light
caressing gently on my skin
what was the texture that I felt on my fingertips
what was I holding

Oh
it was a sheet of tissue
sloppy, it was
Didn't I remember
it wasn't months ago
more likely
...freshly brewed

I tried to travel through time
and space
wasn't it a light year
wasn't it between cultures
wasn't it a tunnel of pesky roaches
but
all I got was to be disoriented

Much that I found out,
I am stuck in this depiction of a song could be sung,
how... tender it used to sound.

Either way my love,
I will be daunted.

"...running and...
Like a river that can't find the sea,
that would be me
without you my Dindi ..."

Subjective Clouds.

If only I could always stand far away and observe,
if my role is only to be a guardian to protect, like angels.
if I could put less of my self in the picture,
and stop being empathetic towards what one self is going through.

What could you gain even if you were to face it.
What could you gain if you were to release from a conditioned structure, roaming in a self constructed labyrinth.
Is happiness the only desire of your existence? If no, why?

I wish it wasn't my story to be told.

I do not want my reasons to be shrewd, like the ones I've witness and contempt.

I weep but I feel like I'm losing myself.



Oh darling,
make it go away.
Just make it go away now.

Invention No. 13

我心里有个线
像大夫把脉的长线
只是 我
从看不见尽

有时候它勒得我 疼的无比
有时候它轻轻摇晃 节奏似的
有时候它另我想与它一起飞翔

它像是我 的一份子
我的血肉筋丝 把它给组织了
仰或是个来回的运作


Guten Nacht
it came back to me like almost any other recollection
sometimes I was stabbed to wake
sometimes I remembered light
and smiles I woke myself into consciousness even with my eyes opened
I loathe myself for the leak of subconscious
that I have tried to deny of

Guten Nacht
a prickle on the anxious pumping machine
much of the strolls of breather I took my crawl of time at
to realize that I could only fall and weep whenever I return

Guten Nacht
you must have been wondering how I am doing now
just like how I would

假象映。

I held your hand,
we stepped into this warm coloured hall.
I followed as you quick paced through shoulders,
a tad behind,
this is where I heard your stories about,
this is your port, in this dimension, at this breadth of your stretch,
this is where you lead me to,
this is where you and I stand.

To be honest,
it wasn't difficult.

It wasn't in the picture but when it happened,
it wasn't bad.

In fact, it was gauged with tender,
my eyes worn a filter,
...like those fancy pancy lenses?
Everything was beautiful.



I enjoyed it,
it was an expression to be longed for,
much that I suppressed within.
And I felt like I did something for you,
in favour,
a magnetic field on a random frequency, in some degree
...somewhere that I am able to glide along.
Yes, it wasn't tough at all.


I walked in with you to our boxes,
eyes contained not of what I see.
It wasn't for you, fear not;
It was more than me.


I remembered,
it came gentle.

And I wish
it meant something to you too.

Yours truly,

x

Lap XI.

It feels like a light year ago
I could fly through layers of clouds
I touched the sky, though I know I couldn't
That was all it takes, that matters

I feel ahead of everyone
I was smiling to the planes reflected
They were about the others
Others that weren't in the picture

I sped up, all I knew was
the power I have in hand
It was like a creation

It was where I found you

I looked in the mirror
My cheeks, responded rosily
It was the eleventh lap I sustained my breath upon

Absorption.

Berlin, 1927.

The instillation of essence you performed,
silently in the night.


It was magic
(You were magic).


You would squander a form of existence, to its finest value.
It couldn't be helped,
it was destined,
you were the crafter.
Believe me, you have not seen it all.

Raison D'etre.

你的心灵 被占据被弥补了
忙碌的 散播点子
平台也不再

我一直想
除了 祈祷
以安稳自己
以最微小的距离接近你

我什么都做了

Reminder V.

The morn I woke upon was stark
much symbolized by the white fade after a gun shot
I must have thought
or so, I doubt,
I might be afraid of having my eyes opened
I never knew what may come

I dressed myself
put on make up
made my hair
It could have, wait...
it has been a beautiful Saturday to begin with
It hasn't been missing, all the while
I was actually awake, eyes closed,
whenever you came back, and when you went away again
I remember what it was
how it was
if that ever was a gift that I was granted for

It was one of the moments that I wish that I could talk to you.

Vent.

忘不了 忘不了
忘不了你的错
忘不了你的好
忘不了雨中的散布
也忘不了那风雨的拥抱

忘不了 忘不了
忘不了你的泪
忘不了你的笑
忘不了夜落的惆怅
也忘不了那花开的烦恼

寂寞的长巷
而今斜月清照
冷落的秋千
而今迎风轻摇
它重复你的叮咛
一声声 忘了 忘了
它低诉我的衷曲
一声声 难了 难了

忘不了 忘不了
忘不了 春已尽
忘不了 花已老
忘不了 离别的滋味
也忘不了那相思的苦恼






其实你已经走远了
似乎感觉不了你的息

不再回头
是你策划的脚印
也许
是我期许已久的一刻

无论我走多远
快乐 并非到达的终站
允许你的侵袭
因为只有你
无法抵抗 无法辩护
只有被放纵的感官
不停吸收你一切的能量

请你安好

Satire.

1. 交响乐团

看着出口 光的来源

若无其事 速度依然 步行

然而 聆听了你的声音

是 你的呼唤

是 你

我加快速度 大步跨越

我跑 我真的像踊跃爱你 一样的跑

像直接洒脱地对你呐喊

是你 就快要出现于我眼前了

是你 归了

再

然而 车子从眼角到眼角消失

并不是你 不是你

失落

阿

什么鬼啊？

2. 水的循环

步行 我（常常）步行

十步三 重口的呼吸

我穿越人群 车辆栖息地

忽视排演 忽视上映

不过只是 忽视系统倒带

我

忽视得太多

一个不小心 摔跤了

那滩雨水

疼

心口在萎缩

除了错怪你

还有谁

如果一个后脑打击可以

让我暂时忘记

如果一个后脑打击可以

让我靠着你

如果……如果……

3. A-B-A-C

其实黄昏味道恰好

不怎么昏的伤

只是微微的 微微的

把车子操到交叉处

顺手 拿起瓶子 喝口水

你投影的侵袭

带来车子里的呛声

形式的喧哗中

我怎么可以这么滑稽

May.

As I promised myself a beautiful month to come,

it was, yet, another transition that one must sit through, inevitably.

I couldn't put it that way, beautiful,

despite it reminds me so much of spring,

under the warm and gentle sun,

when you could see flowers blossom,

as if they could talk to you,

about how excited they were brought into life,

into this vibrant, wonderful lieu.

It was all dragged and muddled,

like a bagful of water, carried, with an opening punched at its base...

where ever I land, I create traces,

against those that I should acknowledge and keep into account,

they were too, kind and loving,

but I just couldn't stay.

They remained,

as images that would flash arbitrarily,

like how projections would be screened,

as residues were gathered.

It wouldn't have even been surreal,

if I didn't have a chance to act.

Compared to your subtle expression,

it was somehow intended I presume.

Goodbye.

Thy Act.

You popularized my senses.

What a shame.

Have you comprehend my stance behind the drownage?

No, you have not

You only pretend, you did.

You only wish to beautify your traces,

highly carried and portrayed

the authentic tastes you bare...

What more can mimicry lead you to?

No, I am not a by-product of the constructed messages.

Ring me, 'Truth is Beauty'.

Daddy.

I am your beautiful girl, daddy.

Believe me.

It is true,

you know what's best for me.

For my tender eyes speak of your resemblance,

my ears listen to the rhythmic pulse you put me to bed,

as you soothe me with the frequency embedded deep inside,

with all, and all that, that lead you to.

That had you lead to me, dad.

Much of your carbon copy, I suspect,

have more than a little faith in me, you should.

For I have a lot from mom,

yet to be nourished.

Much of her cheekiness, her grace, her loving smile,

it is all... inside of me.

Then again,

I might be not so much like you, after all!

Maybe you knew, as I thought so,

you are the world to me.

I love you, dad.

Blue District.

The reflection of the moon-
it was as if the dark old black lane had no trace of speed,
accept for the blue light.

It was a district that I had to cross upon,
to reach my destination.

I would meet some passers-by, which might share the same reason of existence,
a rule, maybe.

It was akin to having a stroll in a very individual's mind.
In this case, it's my own,
as one could utilize so much of the given space of imagination.
I made it mine, an underground personification.

Next thing I know,
I'm dancing in the realm of syncopation and tic tac strikes the spots of my rather lively-connected shell.

Soon after,
I left for the entrance from stage right.

Fulfilling.

As much as having a beautiful meal, with a great company, I recalled.
It was nothing that could be substituted, even at every attempt of reenactment.

I am thus fulfilled, after a season of change,
in another dimension this time.

It might be too overwhelmed for one other to keep, in the process of transmission.
I am sorry that I had insisted.

But now, I feel that I could leave anytime, if it was permitted.
If that was ever arranged.

I would embrace myself tight, as I embrace forgiveness.
I would let my grudges go, though I'm not sure if I'm ready to do so.
I would float lightly in the air,
a state that one has lead me into.

Fly with me, love.

Calves.

那天 我看见小牛们在牛群中 奔

绿丛中

好多牛儿

我在想

我在藐视着这里的什么

Flutter By.

1. Of all the good things you said,
I started to doubt thy means.

2. Fourth dimension to be seen through mirrors.
It's a spectacle!

3. Pineapples became,
somehow symbolic lately.

4. If ever I'm an architect, working at construction sites.
I would imagine myself fishing on the sheave.

5. Only the crowd in Rio could sing X from Ipanema like an anthem.
You know, how they do it on candle-lit tables, hundreds of them under the same roof.

6. Faces I see
when relationships sail in the bed of blue waves. And I cry.

7. I'd love to say-
I'm a great actor. Literally, and the other way round.

8. Indigo is her colour, and it will always be.
Ah well, yes, it's just a garment.

Byakuya.

Snowflakes sprinkled on your head,
it kept me wondering,
what was it that had that triggered,
without mercy,
it must have been.

This very condition it sits,
where it isn't proportioned with time,
nor the flying fox,
nor the Northern star.

The universe is speaking,
it keeps me pondering...
whenever senses gathered and fluid
like a blossoming flower.

I wonder where does it resolve to?
Would it be, like,
one that exists without a purpose,
which is only feasible for a black hole to consume
- of all that one could reason of.

It is only a mere act of nature.
Better if I were to only witness from afar,
...snowflakes sprinkled on your head.

Waltz.

I'd always love to put myself in your shoes,
and go through that sad, long ride,
like how'd you feel, when rain drops needle the surface of your flaked skin,
when it was near to feeling
numb.

I'd love to measure what was left behind the big red curtains,
that took me so much to pull and sustain, just to empathize,
so silently, I wish.




I would love to throw everything
out of the window

I'd rather dance a little waltz with you

...as it is

Farewell.

Silent felt so awkward between us,

when normally, we could still vibrate by just being static，

like mannequins in the display frame.

I guess each of us had our own ways to express our very last moments,

and I was sitting inside of my cubicle, looking through the window frame,

tracking my sight forward.

Why do I see you, you and you being so frail,

why do I see shells without... sparkling souls

where am I standing now, I asked

And I got to talk to the mirror in the corner of the cubicle,

I told her, now then I know, how it feels.

And then I said,

I guess this is how they express our very last moments, together.

It was an exception.

It was how tristeza was the chain of cause and effect.

It was... the emotion of dread in the air.

When I left,

there was nothing to be brought along with.

then again, I guess, this is how it should feel when the train really stops,

when the end, collapse.

So much of the emotional ride, like a cyclone - the whole could be dragged,

much like human, are we-

such dramatic art of thy beauty.

"Auf Wiedersehen, a bientot"

Sybolism.

一首八月小夜曲
给你
—feline

有时候
说文字无法承载的负荷
何不
蜻蜓点水式地 化成
不肤浅
只有 不具体的形式

在那个模糊建设的王国里
任我们游 百尺千尺 深

那一天下午
突然想念我们一起潜水的时候
当下 我们
被允许的一同能量
我们周围没有华丽的装饰
没有刻意的嵌
记得 当时牵手的探
在无限的维里 游


曾经我多许地 仰慕你文字的掌控
何曾是一个格子
扮演的角色是框 是限

其实你 也应该想飞翔

我期盼
我们还可以相遇
在这个多层重叠的余地里

Synapse.

Of the slightest that I could feel,

never thought I'd embrace you with open arms.

Just when I'm about to leave,

to the pool of sinking gravity.

It was a mere collide,

distanced with a consistent pattern,

a terrene formula not taken for granted-

wasn't even supposed to surpass the point of threshold,

no synapsis incurred,

hypothesis defied,

nobody failed,

I was lifted.

Which was why I responded with a connection.

Good morning,

wish I could put a smile on your face.

Pejam.

Your eyes speak so much to me

whenever we look at each other

when I can't help steeling extra looks on you

when we were mutual

Our skin brushed

freckles, a little

wrinkles too, lack of moisture

when I pray my skin to be as soft as yours

When I learn by heart how lovely

your hands were made

I remember how much I used to adore it

from afar

And your height when we

stand just next to each other

Random strolls on imaginary tracks

It is not about a form of physical embodiment

it is, having you so close to me

warm, then melt

I never knew you were so much

I know I can hear you

I'm missing you

绿蓝。

雨水降于大地

它的笼罩 像在拥抱谁在哭泣

湖泊的涟漪 圈的圈圈的

隔离外的朦胧

好像一幅画

是生动像一幅画

然后 我被蓝色吞咽

像在雪球一样的颜色

没人在主宰

好想送给你这个绿蓝

给你 （我也需要的）平静

告诉你—

哪怕再也无法

Omar.

Under the rain, Omar stood.

It is such

a bolt to be programmed with senses,

and being mechanical with the mundane routine.

And this time around,

the subconscious fuse of hers has came to a wake,

A visualization of the

power was generated

and the abandoned city burst into lights

it was a quiet night

but it wasn't

One of being much capable,

to work and cut off dynamic circuits,

which wasn't suppose to be in the context

but was written between the lines of the manual

It wasn't suppose to work like this.

How could you deny yourself, my dearest.

No,

this isn't the case you'd encounter everyday.

Omar is not a cyborg, she said.

Obedience.

Field constructions of trenches

a Magnum on hand

in a fixed poise you stand, ever ready

in depth defense running through fingers,

as planned ahead

So this is how it is to be dealt with

I figured

I see you no more

it is not even a matter of vaporization

You sublimed

"Taken by force"

voices chanted

this maze that was being plotted

so much that one thought one could see

in reality, it doesn't seem to be so

we just read no more

I don't subjugate to takes

one might found rooted in the system

like how you would refuse

like how we were thrown into isolated cages, subjects, to be tested

Attempts to have the wire bended

'It is more than me, so much more than you'

All I could relate is the smell of repugnance

thorns all over your body -

you could only open yourself to the plane of anterior

a destination I will never reach

were we vacuumed?

I must look like an enemy to you

Silhouette.

Standing in the middle of the stage of dark parquet

swimming in the midst of willed faces

Zonked and

I was mesmerized by the light in front of the doorway, in the middle

as it looked similar to the scribbles once prescribed

It was green and only, green

the seamless link of contrasts to be framed

As though I could be engulfed by the minimal visual that occupies the gauge of senses

Oh, it was calm and gentle

one that reminds me of tenderness...

it lingered?

Sunlight hit hard

reflected on the corridor

Silhouette of different men

trails the platform of aesthetics

nothing to do with shade seeking,

...we were merely passengers, I derived

A familiar block of solid color, I saw

one that I would easily identify among the flamboyant figures

layered with the afternoon sunlight

and the green patched background

it nailed

Was it a feign, or a recollection?

No,

it was a beautiful day. Cloudy, yet beautiful.

不安与安。

把 我的不安

寄托在他人身上

折磨 外流 仰或 依赖 仰或 一种虔诚

把 你的不安

寄托在蝴蝶蜜蜂膀上

他们欢乐 你不例

那一天

你看似在飞翔

我在那辽阔的草原注视 你

那一天

阳光普照

天气晴朗

Tender.

Resemblance of the recollections,

like stars, they shine and sparkle, in the midst of the mystified cerebrum.

In space,

I drown, I free fall,

and I found myself being washed onto a shore of the unknown,

I balanced, the smell of earth and dried salt, and noticed where I stood.

The common ground of dream and reality.

As I hear every whisper the wind made,

petals upon my shoulder,

snowflake on my fingertip,

I breathe.

I feel you,

and always will.

If I Only Had Words.

Of how much a term could carry its weight...

I choose not to go beyond that branch of stream.

I hear your call in the morn,

it was that-

making me play sad songs in the warm little room,

when I could feel the warmth of the sun on my skin,

even that, I thought.

And I hear you again,

when I was humming this tune down the stairs,

you appeared out of no where,

Like an answer, it was... though it looks like you're drifting away, too.

Feels that I am always beside, maybe

the other way round.

"The cultivation was a success, "

a voice I heard from the men in white coats.

Poignant, it seems.

隧

我穿过空间

进入隧道

此刻 时光并非主谋

看见你在前 十三尺

与我一同起步

是你

那个紧快的脚步 稍驼的背

你走远了 我持续

一个转弯 异道

你在我前 十三尺

看见你手上的操控

向前走 步奏

你走远了 我持续

然而我犹豫

是否 从背送你走

最后 我转弯 我望

我望着 你步外出口

像在森林里

看见你背影一样

似乎在追寻什么

可现实中 只能认人误

我 从来无法直视你

也无法与你交叉

或许 只能远望你

能否这样 守护着

跳跃空间

跳跃隧道

The Scorching Sun.

There weren't any shades,

it was a direct spread on the surface.

I may be a flat, thin sheet

as if one dimension is reduced

there wasn't so much to be covered,

sometimes, maybe, among the open possibilities.

and I thought you might feel the same way, too.

as I see the endless green in front of the wind screen

it flicked,

and then the spread of the blue sea

it flicked again,

then a pitch black cloth that has white little diamonds attached

it flicked,

it doesn't seem to matter, somehow

It was so bright

I can hardly see you

the flare was too much for my mechanism of contraction

But I see you smile

bright as usual, you were

it never fails to put me in the state of detached

as if it is what that matters,

the only breadth that stands out alone.

It was a beautiful afternoon.

On a Day of December.

'My day was metaphysical,'

says he.

扰。

我无处可逃。

Sunday Afternoon.

星期日 中午

把你藏在心里

好好的 呵护

滋润 你

想要你 靠在我身边

星期日 中午

太阳高挂

照亮 且温柔

你说我是阳光

其实 我好想就这样

暖你一辈子

星期日 中午

通过照射大地的 宽宏

我 守护你

Vacuumed.

A shadow left in the confined space

supposedly, stepping out

is what one would be programmed

in the cause and effect translation

One reason left hanging

engulfing all senses into a wholesome richness

I remember how you tell me things

how I see love

oozing out from your existence

And I remembered how once I felt

much up sky high

when I knew you would feel that too

I realized how I am wrapped in your embrace

That is how you put me in the state

of vacuum

Diggin' on you

is all I do

茅屋。

心淌血

是一个长刺的长春藤

把你刮得伤痕累累

再来往 与我们之间

正当我在闻着我的郁金香

藏在身后 想送你

然后想告诉你

我想为你做的什么

是那么多

可你

心淌血

是一个长刺的长春藤

把你刮得伤痕累累

再来往 与我们之间

亲爱的

勿走远

我亲爱的

Chirps.

春夏秋冬奏でて　明日を行く旅積み重ねて
気付けばあなたと　夢の果てまで

Subconsciousness lead me to daybreak,

awaken by your subtle fragrance,

embraced in your guard it seems,

I snuggled in a sense of secure.

There is so much that I can give.

So much that you deserve, I figured.

Which is why,

that lead me to the lip-sync

I attempt to reach you

under the sun

in the gentle morn.

刺痛。

刺痛 是逃离不了

我在

忽略漩涡的 晃动

只是一直挂着

是阵阵的 自我麻醉

于那 千支小针微微的刺痛

虽微

却迟迟不离

痕迹

老师的脸上

增了许多 岁月的痕迹

种种的 经历

那么潇洒 你

我看见

你给与我们的恩

深藏在心里

（虽然我们交叉点 不频）

Collage.

Pictures to be seen

all revolving

patches your beauty

patches my understanding of the blossoming bulb

how I am to distance myself

how a head lift was caused from the action

how you attempt to draw us close

how I want to reach to your hand

how you welcome me with warmth

how you make me feel that way

that we could be one

You are so beautiful

Socrates.

That night,

this word, Socrates.

I remember how I see you shine,

so far, yet so bright.

Charmed, smitten,

might just seem not be enough,

sometimes-

things are just beyond emotions.

Draw me with your gravity,

you did.

And now, I am going to create and define

my own Law of Gravity.

Stage Play.

44640

stood up from up from the chair and blurted 'cuckoo'

and there she sits down

very straight, on the wooden chair

how still she has to be

without even moving a facial muscle

and she sits for another

44640

deep down she smiles

conscious,

and unconsciously

She whispered

I heard

On the Pants.

When I have a twirl

that uproars my mind

and my body

and that frequencies did not get to meet

as points did not cross

when one is trying to keep parallel like the other

at the same angle

the same direction

the same speed

She cannot resolve.

But when I see you

it is as if I see myself

and then I realized

that I only should run to you

to resolve you

for you

are my only one.

Aliran.

Betapa ingin nya ku

Luahkan perasaanku yang terdalam

yang terpendam

yang tidak dapat aku berikan

hanya rasa

yang wujud

bagai satu yang bermakna

dalam alam ini

Tidak dapat didengari

atau dicapai

ku lawan

Sea Crack.

Into the world I never knew

swim through calmness

without a sound

When time down under

is actually ticking 1/8 slower than air

where the fastest

is also slow motion

when we can see each other

despite the widely defined world

of the underwater

You held my hand

to the seabed

and there it was

a crack

that could fit us two

Then we entered.

飘。

Float like a feather-

我正想 以我热情的沙漠

迎接你 迎接我的慢跑

然后我以为是

结果是的 只是我钝了

如果你要我做什么

我只想陪着你

在你身边静静的

虽然离你远一点

我其实

一直都想拥抱你

然而

我会

很努力的

Blue Boy.

My lil blue boy

would you think if I would tip my toes

to have a look of you from the artificial walls?

To imagine how were you to carry on

when you were fighting in the battle

with the colourful expressions that you could use

that actually slip and hide

in your day

That why was it that you were quiet at times

why were you alone

when can I see you

if it is happened to be

upon the calculation of bits

of the universe

And then I see you, my lil blue boy

Like how you always are

mingling with yourself

Was wondering if you saw me

when my waive actually banged the door

having my footsteps drew further

with full conscious

part of the Act, it is

But it doesn't matter

I'm your lil blue girl today, (too)

it so happens

打开。

可以让我记得你

是 温柔

调皮

强悍

是 稳中

冲动

与 很多感动

上了瘾

有比无法和你分开

一直有你在身旁

并且依然想象你在身旁

不离

若你的味道

我说

残留 在我身上

我是在说

深深爱上你了

亲爱的

Backagain.

When I was sent out to feel as much,

back then.

With the not so prepared shell,

but a very prepared fluid.

Under these huge green pointy roofs,

grande halls with ever familiar faces-

And the ever-dampy underground air that one could taste...

I have never felt so much welcomed to be back,

do things I feel best- and it will still be.

When I hook my eyes to the man,

conducting.

When I pushed my every breath to finish a resonance,

making sure I spit consonance,

wiggle a lil more than the others,

though I may look absurd,

for always trying too hard.

When I turn back, to see the ever together mates,

also the new potentials,

I could not wait to look forward for everything,

everything that could happen.

And what the ears could hear,

was not only the harmonies I'd pursue, forever

but the fluent flow of their very accent,

warming the cold spread of this odd-shaped room,

which is, what I always recalled

of recognizing it is a home.

The voices are enough to tie each of us together,

as if...nothing else mattered.

Why which is,

I can not wait to be back,

more than singing at anywhere else.

Jason Lo.

I do not know that this is the Jason Lo

that I used to be crazy on his 'Youuu-huuuu's'

back in primary

blasting the music in MTV

feeling like jumping all around the house..

is the one that I interviewed as a CEO

talking about Paramore and their music

sweating around with reporters and lights

and had the cameraman talked about what they used to have in Quickie...

...is actually the same Jason Lo.

(of course, the one I saw in TV and in real life is like...10 years difference?)

I would never have even dream about that.

Aiyoh,

hit me hard.

Scribble.

有一天

你说 文字不再承受得你的思想

我想

你 怎么办

I want to be close to you

Sunrise, sunset,

rises the North,

sets the South.

One day I might just wake up and realize

things I that I never wanted to happen

in front of my eyes

under the warm, bright sun.

In uncertainty, in complications,

in contradictions, between vagueness,

among the scribbles of coal,

dusting the trailed white paper.

Please tell me things are going to be alright.

Please spare me any length of might, that I could carry with.

Please,

I pray.

Tantrum.

I am the calm blue sea

looking at you

engulfing- slowly.

there was no shore,

but only smudges, of its act.

Come,

lean upon my bosom

let me bring you

to a place

far from here.

惺忪。

我想我 跳了出去

想要

清醒与你 醉

像有点盲目

可是 你在身边

什么都

安

说我好久没感受

其实是

与梦对照

你是

无私的太阳

神秘的月

美丽的海洋

幽香的花朵

我可以一直说下去

没有因为

你知道

我会告诉你

:)

Cherry Blossom.

Cherry blossoms

streaming on my skin

Cherry blossoms

blooming in on the earthy mud pile

Cherry blossoms

planted on her rosy cheeks

Cherry blossoms

hiding within her folded layer of laced,

ankle high socks

Cherry blossoms

embedded in the sea of the red, red cherries

Cherry blossom,

oh my cherry blossom.

Talk.

I wish that I am gifted,

protected with a might, a will...

that I can make this through.

As much as I want to take your hand

and see the world,

how possibly beautiful things could be,

how we want to do it,

in ways we have always wanted to.

I can say that you are

one that I less think that I will stumble upon.

That is why

I tend to stand on the same spot

having conversations of the detached

and inner one..

'Oh Dindi...

If I only had words

I would say all the beautiful things that I see

When you're with me

oh my Dindi

Oh Dindi...

Like the song of the wind in the trees

That's how my heart is singing Dindi, happy Dindi

When you're with me'