Tuesday, September 11, 2007

the things you remember.

So I was in the cab, on the way back from Jess's, speeding down some road with fuzzy orange lighting towards home. And just for a brief instant, we passed by this blue cab which had stopped by the side of the road, with flashing breakdown lights. Adjacent to the vehicle, was this huge grassfield which had all its colour leeched by the night. The cab-driver stood there, looking oh-so-guilty, as he furtively looked left and right, ejecting a golden stream of fluid (or so I imagine) into the darkness.

I burst into fits of laughter.

You see, I suddenly remembered the times when I was young, the times when my dad still had a mop of black hair, the sound of his ringing laughter, the times where I could actually carry my little sister and brother on my lap, how they always smelled of Johnson's baby powder and raging innocence, and how we used to go out and my siblings always had this knack of wanting to wee whenever we travelled along this particular road. The name escapes me, but it's always just before that spot, where my dad will pull over, carry them over to the tree/grasspatch and let them relieve themselves.

It's been many years, we don't go out together anymore, but I know if we were to pass by that tree now, my dad, sans quite a lot of hair and lots more wrinkles, will triumphantly crow in the same way as he always does, take a look, see if the grass had grown any taller, look look look, and I remembered all this in a heartbeat and literally burst out laughing, laughing so hard that my face was all scrunched up and my chest was so tight.

After a while, I wasn't sure why I was laughing anymore, but it's better than keeping silent, and wishing for that time to be here again - where my siblings were adorably impressionable, and my dad didn't look so weary and drained, and simply, old.

I wonder if that tree/grass patch really grew taller. Yet another pilgrimage to add to my list, I suppose.

blueprint

I will like to spend my days, as though they are my own, which I mostly end up doing in halves, for duty beckons, and I am answering its clarion call. Soon enough! I am also a veteran procrastinator.

fresh monodies

irritated.
before i lie awake in bed.
as we have always done before.
it's all about music, and more.
teacher's day; the revival of recognition.
breathing out.
i am my mother's daughter.
furious, oh so furious.
before i overcome inertia.
to trivalise, is to bastardize.

previous rants

August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
November 2010
January 2011
February 2011
August 2011
October 2011
May 2013

treatises on life

arty jen
betty boop
carmentica
charming-linn
chasing snowy cars
cheeky lynn
cheryliciously glam
clean and cute
cyclist-mad bass
darling dominic
feisty jing
fellow ditz-sista/porkSTAR
hail mary!
hell's kitchen
hero on the beach
h-Euge heart
hunky lenny
lipgloss queen
little cheryl
live n learn, baby
lolita lou
loony loon
mr popular
musically dan
m y s t j
phringe
princess tania
roger smurf
runaway pigeon
sabotage king jeremiah
sibling angst1
sibling angst2
spector dan
spunky tian
steffy bunny
sun-sunzzz
teeny wee-nee
weeeee, leonard!
yangtze yang'en

frivolous pursuits

for shallow ppl
for very geeky ppl
for the truly bored
spun prose
binary thoughts
past imprints
some stamps
montage of images
other memories

mulling over

And there were phlegmatic souls.