“Under You”

It was time to kick myself for wasting away; life was on the edge and yet it was still a blur. I embarked on a (very) personal journey, to rid myself of being in depression. In my very little own world, joys and sorrows are measure by my standards, and experiencing harrowing highs and lows in daily flashes were self-destructive. Four months into California, the ridding of my self-pity was almost complete. Solitude was madness; but bartending, or at least working at the bar, was my life-saver. Right next door was a Ramen noodle shop, whose demographics were limitless unlike its neighbouring bar. Working right next door was Minami, or Mimi for short, a girl that anyone would love to pamper. Her large round eyes seemed to be begging whenever she’s asking for something, and she smiles rain or shine, in pain, defeat, in joy, in doubt and other unconceivable circumstances. The only annoying part about her was her idolization of Hollywood. In all the small chatter with her, I found out how much she wishes to be someone else, to be a diva walking on red carpet or whatnot. The reason she absolutely adores ‘I am Sam’ was Dakota Fanning whom she thought was stunning; I thought the performances were stunning nonetheless, but it was the immense use of the Beatles on the soundtrack was what captivated me more, in particular, ‘Across the Universe’.

Thursday, the night of 4th June, I succumbed to my landlord’s belittling, leading to the obvious conclusion that I was now homeless. I moved my belongings down to the bar, with the idea of turning it into my temporary shack. It was at this moment, where the basic need for survival, namely, a home, was of utmost importance, that a gleaming pair of eyes turned its sight upon me. At the footsteps of the Ramen noodle shop, Mimi stood and watched as I slowly stumbled next to her, where she invited me to her place for the night ‘since we could go to work together the next day’. What a premise. But I admired her kindness and was not ready to turn her down under current circumstances. The implications of the situation I have not fully come to terms yet dwindled with her charm, where we laughed off about our fortunes, about how we’re not even close to realizing who we are or who we could be. She prepared her famous Ramen noodles to my delight, at the same time hilariously performed a number of scenes from a Japanese movie that I bet she has watched a dozen times. If there was one thing she made me feel, it’s that I felt more alive, more conscious about existence, life and relationships with people. How is she able to withstand being with a half-assed bartender, still without a real job or aim in life, who cannot yet decide between watching Jerry Maguire or Fight Club even after finishing a hearty bowl of Ramen? The answer was probably in that I may not be as worthless as I seemed to be and that her kindness was overlooked and deemed an over-eagerness to be loved. We nuzzled onto the sofa bed, with the TV playing The Mexican, as we carelessly talked about nonsensical ideas like being famous or dating the famous. It was a topic which would have put me to sleep instantly, but for her curiosity and kindness, I repaid by being attentive. I woke up with the bright summer skies in full bloom, wishing the clouds would exercise care in allowing sunlight to invade people’s privacy. When I had fully shaken from being immobilized in sleep, I found myself under my petite host, her head lying on my stomach, her arms wrapped around my back, softly breathing and enjoying her rest. I’ll always remember how enormous those feelings being pinned back were, how long that moment seemed to feel, and how deeply appreciated I was by her tenderness. I smiled at her, though she was not looking. She had taken over me.

A tribute to a dusty album on my shelf

If you’re wondering why the hell am i spouting nonsensical posts about nobody in particular, have no fear; i’m plainly living on a temporary inspiration on creating a series of short stories based on songs from an old Better Than Ezra album i happen to find somewhere in my room that i had forgotten i had such a disc, and the reason why i bought it. Listening to it again, the memories of being in the 90s rolled once again. They spawned a hit or two in their early life as a band, (and they still exist today) but still maintained little else in terms of history. It’s sure great to feel a sudden sense of inspiration, and look for 3 more shorts to come by.

It’s part of an experimental writing exercise where limits are in place, but the boundaries of exploration is like an experimental journey. Where the end result is something you anticipate, not envision. So i shall stop bragging about how highly intellectual i am, and just paint paragraphs in my head .

Obviously, any critiques are welcomed.

Alison Foley

Temptation has been one of the greatest killers of man, if not mankind. Life would be mundane had no one ever drifted into temptation and contemplated very fundamental sins. Man can only forget loneliness through the company of another being, with the obvious choice in mind, the opposite sex. Similarities dissipate into thin air faster than the speed of thought (meaning you do not even think about it) but the opposites, like how our limitations of perception of good is represented by something evil beforehand before we can distinguish from either, extend our existence and provides us with a purpose in life; to co-exist and understand one another. It’s funny how our species have aims to mate without the consequences of reproduction. Mating is a sign of co-habitation in process; proving 1) we need each other to survive, and 2) that despite all the differences, we are still attractive to one another. Or at least a need to be attracted to one another. The point is, our advancements as a species make us far too brilliant to be limited by a place like Earth. We’re smart enough not to overpopulate the world with our brilliance and let it self-destruct within our calamitous desires that would belie our fate. That is wisdom.”

My attention was drawn to Alison’s words, but not the meaning. I was not so sure myself if there was one in the first place. I stared into her starry eyes, while in my inexplicably intoxicated state, was content at sharing laughs with her over nothing at all. We were drunk, bored and lonely, and particularly stoned in our smoked, sweaty outfits, that we were still too shy to remove. Lying next to each other, running short on cigarettes and alcohol, last cigarette in my right hand, last green whisky bottle in her left which we happily wrapped our lips with while we took turns to serenade each other with whatever charm we had left. I was so drawn in by her erection inducing smiles down at the bar where she works; whether or not it was me she was smiling at didn’t matter. We hit it off like two souls drowning in an over-eagerness to be with someone who could listen as much as they talked. I liked her. I liked the fact we could be so spontaneous with one another, and as if without a care, could get as smashed and stoned as life allows us to be at either my place or hers. We couldn’t care less. We both desire an audience, and each other is just who we need. Her smiles might cause my blood to circulate faster, but it did not compromise my comfort of being with her. Mind you, there was nothing much sexual of our relationship; we kissed, hugged, held hands, fingered each other’s hair, maybe a little tongue, but hardly explored further than that. She was 29, and had enough sex. I was 25, and looking for a meaning in life. Tonight was no different. We stared at the ceiling, what was once an unfamiliar sight for me, but passing out on the floor and subsequently waking up the next morning looking at an unfamiliar ceiling seemed to bother me less and less each time. There are times when 2 persons are looking at the same thing, and their thoughts are seemingly connected by a string, and we were like souls in tandem. We needed each other, the affection and a certain mutual respect that we believed we could afford one another and through the immersion of our unfulfilled desires, lift us up from a cynical and rampaging state. Those were among the last words I heard from her, and the visions of a ravaging beauty I had become so fond of was immortalised as a photo still. I was, and forever will be, wounded by her death, knowing I accompanied her in wasting away, but did not let her know how much I wished she would be content with just me. So long, Alison Foley. So long, bye bye.

At the stars

3.00 am. We’re driving in your car. My heart was behaving wildly like a lost child, but this child, at least in his own world, was far from being seated in a car. Like a burning jet nose-diving in all its glory straight down to hell, where I, the imaginary pilot, could no longer wrestle control and take any rational course of action. It is hell (where all the good things are), and pure ecstasy at the same time. Hell, the way I defined it, was a plane where desires and rationality do not meet in equilibrium. Diverging hearts and minds stirs the echoes and they ring in your ears so loudly, yet fall short of a trumpet of war. Ecstasy, the way I think about it, was being in this unbelievable state of consciousness, where you are not even certain how conscious you are, where reality and dreams do somehow equate. They’re such a rarity, that gushing split seconds of plum and torment. It’s not even funny how each word bears weight; the sharp ones stacked thornily on your head, and the pleasant ones dissipate into an unseen, unnatural fragrant to-die-for. That illusion of chasing this sweet smell of something detracts you from feeling the thorns the moment the blur turns clear. You realise there are thorns everywhere! And then you remember the aroma, albeit faintly, but keep your heart beating like rhythmic pulses envisaging a certain soundtrack to go with it. You have had that song you wanted to suddenly come to life now, but it’s the pictures that take its place in your capsule of a mind. But at the end of it all, I looked and screamed out at the stars, hoping that you’ll never have to take me back.

That’s the beginning of my love-hate affair for someone I truly adored and despised, unattainable yet an enviable friend, the girl I seemed to know from afar. She was fascinating. I should have dropped her at her door. When I finally did, I came back in sudden randomness with one phone call (obviously, I made the phone call), blushed upon meeting her face at the door, looked at my shoes as if it was the mirror, and smiled politely as I entered her domain. We watched a movie, which only after intermediate viewing, I recognised it was a movie this dearest had laid eyes on before. Her giggles, her wavering eyes latching onto discontinued joints of a world around her; books, magazine, her minor fiddling, which suddenly ends when she puts in an attentive stare at the widescreen box I had been pretending to observe with vigor. She’s an absolute delight to look at; a joy to behold to me, the onlooker, that the more I see the different sides and angles, the more I think there is a deepness that is unfathomable about this beauty. I want to know her and relate to her, but she keeps her guards up, barring infiltrators lacking charm and wits. Her dreary eyes by the end of the movie were contemplating sleep, but I was reluctant to allow an unbecoming finale to take the airs of such an awkward yet pleasant moment. I carefully poured bits and pieces of my life and my relationships, not ever knowing if she were even a tiny bit interested in it. After thinking it to be unfair for her kindness, I rapidly said good night, thinking the next morning would be the same again. I loved the smell of her long, straight, silky hair which covered parts of her ample forehead, strands of which were littered by her cheeks and by now her eyes, which were crying for sleep and her apparent lack of rest made her a fine, gentle and extremely adorable woman. What my eyes saw, my heart tacitly agreed. She was stunning, even in her droopiness; her ruffled hair mindlessly spawned thoughts protruding even the most lyrical beauty.

How I wished this was an energy bar!