Thoughts on immortality.

Imagine this.

Immortality exists in yourself.

The ability to live forever.

A few centuries into your life,

you adjust your life into a strange new routine.

Whatever that used to thrill you would be meaningless.

Every time you dye your hair a funny color,

swore at your lecturers,

punch out the face of an idiot,

made out in front of an audience.

Slowly, you'd start to question.

What does this all mean?

And then you'd turn to your threshold.

That's when the fun begins.

See, life everyday, when you have forever,

simply blends into one.

You'll learn that escape comes in a form of sleep.

That you can tune your body into hibernating.

Sleeping, weeks, months.

Until your body's ready to wake up and live again.

But when you need an immediate thrill.

A shoot up the inside of your arm.

You turn to:

Pain. Fear.

You resort to abusing your body.

Tattoos running all along your limbs.

You bungee jump, sky dive.

Forever testing your limits.

Forever exceeding your expectations.

You trace lines down your arms with a blade,

and find beauty in it's ugly pulsating gash.

Now until your thrill is over.

Until that feeling of spectacular ceases to exist.

That's when you know,

you have truly lived a life worth living.

The colors make her smile.

"Time passes by in just a wink,

but a friend like you who would never look down on me,

and befriend me despite of my status,

will always be treasured and remembered forever.

Thank you so much for accepting me as your friend.

May God bless you."

____

Day by day I ponder upon trivial things.

I think about the downfalls of unrequited love.

Of the cunning abuse of loneliness.

The kind that never shows it's form physically,

but slowly drains you from the inside.

It's hard for you to ask yourself.

Have you held the hands of a child who's been abandoned.

Have you brushed your lips across the scars on their skin.

Have you felt the need to comfort and protect them as they lay asleep in your lap.

Have you felt your heart burn when they cry as you leave.

A 4 year old curls up in your lap and plays with your Uno cards.

A 5 year old always smiles at you and motions for you to carry him.

A 6 year old falls asleep in your arms.

An 8 year old tries teaching you Tamil.

A 9 year old laughs at the highlights in your hair.

A 12 year old tells you where her presents all go to in the end.

A 14 year old promises to call before you leave overseas.

An 18 year old tells you that she wonders what it's like to have people to call father and mother.

In the end, when you ask for kisses,

they may shake their heads,

they may draw circles with their feet in the sand.

Some give hugs so reluctantly,

because they know nothing of how to.

But in the end,

they will love you with all the can give.

The awkward tangle of limbs,

even the cold stain of the saliva from their pecks,

they leave the greatest marks across your heart.

See, when it was time to go,

the girls stood waving by the glass door,

blowing as much kisses as the can,

trying to touch their fingers against yours through the panes.

The Chinese boys give you high fives,

and silly handshakes,

and swipe their hands away even before you touch them.

The littlest Indian girl with the biggest eyes looks up at you.

She wears her oversized bagpack,

wipes the back of her hand and starts to cry.

The tiny Indian boy who doesn't speak much,

who constantly asks you to carry him like 'Superman',

gives you and only you a kiss.

And the only thing they ask you before you leave is

'Are you coming tomorrow?'

And knowing that it isn't compulsory for you to come back,

knowing that this is supposed to be your last day with them,

you can't help but wonder how the college students who came to help out

can just leave the orphanage without ever returning again?

Though promises are intangible,

it's never black and white.

But with all of me,

I promise I'll be back.

Undercover lovers.

He slithers down the stairs like a snake.

Jolts, upright.

Like an electric shock that travels rapidly up his spine.

Turning around, he falls.

Head first he his the ground.

The blood runs all over the floor,

flooding everything in sight.

Suddenly, we are in a hospital.

He calls to me,

epileptic a little.

His head, no, in fact his whole body.

Covered in a ghastly white bandage.

'Hello. Missed me?' I say.

He stares at me and smiles.

'No, miss.'

I thought it was a grammatical error.

'Things like that usually occur.'

Reassures the doctor a while ago.

How long have we been here?

A day? Two weeks? Five months?

I don't know why I don't remember.

'No, miss. Who are you?'

And he repeats this until I no longer see.

Until we are at a different hospital.

Here the lights are brighter,

the walls are green.

I look up and I see a man walking towards me.

My heart burns.
For what reasons?

What purpose?

He holds up a bunch of roses.

I think I decide that I like roses, at that point.

I receive them gracefully.

'Hello. Missed me?' He says.

I think about this for a moment.

I let the words linger on my tongue,

until it reaches a bitter bile in my throat.

'No. Sorry, who are you?'

---------

I just had one of the strangest amnesiaption dream ever.

My heart's unsettled.

Dear pretty flower name girl.

Even though I swear I'm drowning in my assignments.

I'd like to take time out of my death,

to dedicate an entire post to a very beautiful flower.

I'm more beautiful.

But it's okay.

It's about Azalea!

HEHEHEE.

Oh my god.

How far we've come from the strangers we originally were at the beginning of 2009.

I remember you sitting all alone like a dodo bird.

And I be chillin' behind with Nose.

And then as the year progressed,

I hated you.

Lol, JK but seriously.

We hated each other like shiiiiitake mushrooms.

And that was stewpit of us teehee.

And then form 5 started,

and we were tight,

like ICE ICE BABY.

I know I don't make sense right now,

I'm just so sleepy and if you all remember,

I'm still in the process of drowning.

Anyway, form 5 was easy peasy lemon squeeze meee.

The year passed by like snaaap.

And the whole 8 months of you doing now,

passed by like SNAP.

Can't believe we hung out so much together.

You officially hold the record for the Most Sleepovers Nicole Has Ever Gone to.

And also the title of Going Into Nicole's House Without Knocking.

And the ability to Sit In Nicole's Car And Not Pay For The Petrol.

HEHEHEHE.

I love you lah bro :)

K peace like a baus.

Have fun in the UK!

If you see hot guys,

remember, I come first before even yourself.

I'LL MAKE LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIPS WORK!

Kay, we need to find a day to Skype each other.

Or else, BLEH, our friendship will flop like a fish,

Spongebob Square Pants.

WORK WORK WORK!

Oh and btw,

must design a dress for me kay.

Chill lah bro, fashion design and all.

Hip and cool untilllllll.

:)

Okay lah, jokes aside.

Have a safe flight there,

hope there's not much turbulence.

And some hot dude will sit next to you so if you're bored and can't sleep,

you still can stare at him.

And I hope when you touch down,

you love the weather.

And you love your apartment.

And you definitely want to love Paris on my behalf.

PS: I'm so stealing your clothes teehehehehe.

BRO LOVE HUG.

I'm still working on the forever part.

Today, I'm going to fish out my memories.

Talk about silly things.

Strange things.

I remember your hands.

Especially those palms of yours, and your callous skin.

Your palms were huge.

I could hardly fit my fingers in between without feeling like they were suffocating lol.

I still keep the little things you did.

In my head, in my purse.

Haha. Strange, strange boy you were.

I honestly never knew what a heartbreak was like,

until I met you.

And before that there was chocolate.

Lots and lots of chocolate.

I mean, it was comforting. Beautiful.

In a way that an old rocking chair is.

Fits you, comforts you, cradles you.

Doesn't say much.

And before that, music.

Good, sextastic, shitastic music.

But even then, what was the whole point?

We were like Guns 'n' Roses,

Iron and Wine.

But the whole thing was a fraud.

For all I know, it was the only reason why I liked you.

And the hardest, most painful memory yet on the list.

Innocence.

Little quote number one.

Now, if only someone had that vast vocabulary, the emotions to match, and the passion to covey something as beautiful as that to me.

I will marry you.

:)

*here's me being a little silly.

Judging my marriage on a stupid quote teehee.

Now playing: With Arms Wide Open- Creed

Society must let the artist go, to wander off into the nebula.

Somebody give me a life.

Preferably not mine,

if that's not too much to ask.

:(

When he awakes, he dreams more than ever.

I have little simple dreams in the world.

Of one, I'm about to share with you today.

Some day, in the present, or near future, or whenever I'm young enough to pull it off, I want to be the annoying couple in public. I want to be the two idiots who dare each other to do silly things in malls, like talking to strangers, or acting like sales assistance. Making out just to watch the reaction of the people passing by.

I want to sing alongside a boy who's willing to play the guitar next to me. Maybe lay a hat overturned on the ground, and giggle at the people who absentmindedly throw money in it. We could take the money and spend them on the simplest things, like candy and fries, and ice cream.

We could slow dance on the empty marble floors, or sit and play trivial games in the middle of no where. Spend hours just reading in bookstores, finishing them and not having to pay a single cent. Listen to music in record stores, and argue about the most amazing band in the world.

But at the end of that very day, we go back to the way we are. Quiet, beautiful, uniquely us, in our own way.

And it becomes another simple dream I tick off my Bucket List.