The night has so many faces. At times she is a friend, companiable and close as you walk in friendly silence. Other times she is a lover, the air slipping like silk sheets around you, tender. Tonight she was bitter, turning away when you tried to catch her glance and the coldness clutched your heart so that you could not breathe, and the harshness of the wind brought tears to your eyes.
There were times at night when I sat at my window staring out at the moon’s waning girth and smooth sallow light and the loneliness that took me was so fierce and startling that it winded me. I tried to put my arms about myself to imagine that it was you instead but moonlight showed up my feeble attempts for what they were. Who could have known that that kiss in the doorway was to be our last? But it hardly matters anymore.
Unsurprisingly, the solitude of the night has not passed as you have from my life. We are after all, alone…even as we try to surround ourself with sound and touch, smell and sight. When night falls- the world becomes as it truly is- a void. And you with your outstretched arms, let darkness fall like rain and know that the feeling in your heart is just one more night calling out to the one without.
In the Nazi world of post-teen grooming, I think I’ve developed a mild phobia of bare toenails. Of course, a mild phobia is not enough to overcome the inertia that accompanies each re-laquering of our calcified extremeties so I mostly hope that my friends are too myopic to notice my raggedy toes and their chipped coats of paint- my face is more interesting anyway (I hope). But when I do get down to do the deed, there is always the immense satisfaction that a glorious and unmarred new set of twinkies bring. Was obsessed with my OPI Big Apple Red before (must have that leetle bit of scarlet that part of me always craves) but now, after some successful rummaging through Mar’s closet, I have unearthed a hitherto abandoned and pristine bottle of OPI’s Second Honeymoon polish which is a pale opaque pink much like what they use for french manicures. I love their names! This one reminds me of The Debutante Divorcee (secret fans of Plum Sykes’ smarmy tales will know the one).
Anyway I have ten “nude” coloured toesies now and I am happy.
When the morning proves to be lazier than I am (a feat!), I find it rather inexcusable NOT to blog.
Yesterday was my self-proclaimed devour-HP-in-one-sitting day- an exercise I know I am not alone in. And *sigh* I feel sooooo sad now. Harry Potter hangover I call it. A part of me can’t believe that I can’t immerse myself any longer in the wonderful parallel world JK Rowling dreamed up. Part of me can’t accept the fact that the characters we met those years ago are now all grown up, and so have we. Part of me is becoming damn emo. haha.
We were doing this thing where we try and figure out what a person’s name SHOULD have been and I couldn’t figure out what Tim should have been for the longest time. Er…Tom? No. Jasper? Hell no. Jeremy? Eeee NO! So the list went on. In the evening when we met at Peach Garden for our occasional eat-so-much-duck-you-could-birth-to-a-duckling feast inspiration struck!! GODRIC GRYFFINDOR!!!! Oh yes!!! You are Godric my dear. As sure as I am that Anna Wintour’s ugly hair and Lagerfeld’s dumb shades will never change…(which is surer than I am that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west etc). *grins* Godric!
Oh boy I had so much inane fun with that last night. I was so annoying.
In other news, ain’t it sad to be a Muggle? Pathetically, the most magical thing on me is my handphone.
Stuffing your face with oven-warm gingerbread treacle cake, dark smooth bitter chocolate and dragonbeard candy.
Oh and sipping a tall ice cold cappucino alfredo beneath the grecian sky (perched dangerously on the edge of a volcanic caldera) comes in a close second.
Oh yes we can dream.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and overburdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
This is perhaps my favourite verse in the whole bible- so I was really delighted when it came up in yesterday’s daily readings. I think it sums up everything we talked about in cell yesterday- about taking his yoke instead of shouldering our own burdens alone, realising and being glad that we don’t walk our journeys unaccompanied but rather that He is there every step of the way, even if we are unaware. Even when we try to hide- where can we run to that He will not see? Even the darkness is radiant in His sight.
Oh, the daily devotional blog is this one.
Everyone looks so happy here… makes me smile just looking at it. =)
thank you very much.
I thoroughly agree with Aun’s mini rant about this so-called Tanglin Village place-
by the way, in my opinion, whoever came up with the name Tanglin Village should be smacked upside the head!
Seriously the gahmen is taking this urban village thingy far too literally. Spontaneity is rare enough as it is! Cultured spontaneity???? What is that? Regulation, (in case they haven’t figured it out yet) is the antithesis of la boheme.
So next time someone mentions “Tanglin Village” to me…I’m going to stare blankly back and say, “Huh? Where is that?”
Do the same Friends!!!! We all know that a place is not named by the flippant fancies of a faceless bureaucrat but rather, earns its moniker by gradually winning the affections of its denizens.