Water or Gasoline?
26 Sep 2006
one.dowsing of the selflame
i know nothing of this world that would not satisfy me for it has left me high and dry by the chase of the fleeting. indeed, nothing of this universe carries anything close to the karmic make-up of me, nothing, indeed. day in , day out, i hear nothing which bears the slightest resemblance of my inner voice which calls out for a mate. for one thing, i am neither a cricket nor a toad but a sacred being of light and understanding, probably the most morphed/warped and over-analytical creature that has ever existed in the history of nature. i do not take no for an answer. i seem to think that all things happen for some reason. i feed on the belief that i am smart enough to tell good from evil, and i, too, was the one who gave good and evil their names. i do not see a bridge which i can cross to the other side. the physical world lies sparkly and pristine like the summit of cold mountain of which i do not have the vigour to tread uphill desirously. i hear voices in the distance, calling me to take my place. take thy place, and all will be well, it says. but i looked deep into the water and saw my true path. the waters may lie but my reflection will not. it tells me that nothing of this perishable world would ever bring me tidings and joy, no man would ever satisfy… no, not me and my insatiable appetite. the waters enchant, they tempt me to dowse the selflame for all eternity. that way, neither the world nor i will have a reason for carrying this long taunting psychological banter on- the rigmarole named Confusion which started the day i was born.
two.waiting for the sun
skin and eyes skinny skinny so naturally glamorous, naturally glamorous time for earthly sashays. the sun is up, and so am i, another day, gotta play with everyone first of all pop on my lenses and see myself freshened and glitzy with anticipation, who will i meet again today? gotta have good skin, sunblock helps guard against photo-ageing and mine comes with a tint, great, cool, usual day with usual buzzwords,woohoo mess with my shag a little, ahh selection of clothes to hide my plain awkward unflattering self… act a little smart-aleckish,walk with an insolent swagger, wear my interestingly blank expression and skive thru work all day with phonecalls and smses, smile alot to get the easy way out of any bad situation, play the clown alot, turn my nose up at the bus drivers, poor public servants i abhor, worry alot about cash, bitch about my colleagues, get emo when a kid calls me auntie, reminisce about lost loves, hate my family alot, hate my brother a lot, fantasize about meeting leslie low and billy corgan, occasionally try to write a half-screwed indie hit and end up hating myself when it screws me instead, cynicism, narcissism, loneliness, negative positivity, major minority, mildly schizophrenic, at the same time, young and hopeful, knowing i’ll be more than just an average jane someday, i could be joan of arc, audrey hepburn, sexy, enigmatic, a heroine, whoever i wanna be, my inspirations come full circle when the sun is out shining on all those who are bitter and mopey like me… Gasoline lends undowsable ignition to our sad unfulfilled everyday lives.
Instant Annihilation or Perpetual Wilting
Water or Gasoline, Madame?