The darkness. A pit born into.

Found the strength to climb out years ago.

But it’s always there. Always pulling at me.

The ties are seductive; waving the prospect of happiness.

It’s a drug. Promising what you’re after, just to pull you back from it.

The future foreseen: I will try to escape its grasp. Then, look back in regret.

The pit will then be of my own.

Someone just mentioned that we should find someone who’ll make us smile, and choose him or her for our partner. Because life should be full of laughter, so doesn’t it make sense for our life partner to make us smile?

I think it to be of a certain truth.

Yet, I beg to offer another perspective. Wouldn’t it be equally – if not more – important to be with someone on whom you can always put a smile on? I smile… Yes, I certainly am thinking of someone. My certain someone. My only one.

In giving the happiness of a smile, we receive the happiness of being able to give a smile. How many times have you tried to connect with another, only to find that you’re on a different frequency?

I smile… I smile because I see you. I smile because I when you’re not in sight, you’re still always in my mind. I smile because of you. When we look back together, I want to count not our years, but our smiles shared together.

Why do you wonder about me?

I guess it’s only human nature: to doubt, when something is important.

All I can say is: it’s in my nature – to love you; to be with you.

It’s in my nature to be drawn to you; to fall in love with you.

It’s in my nature to watch out for where you place your step, so you don’t trip.

It’s in my nature to want to hold you in my arms, and tell you it’s alright.

It’s in my nature to look at you and feel so much love, and know that I would be so empty without you.

It’s in my nature to be with you.

I didn’t have to think about it; I don’t have to think about it.

But when I do think about it, I only get more certain than I already am.

I just …love you.

I feel it growing. This spark, that became a glow, that became a flame, that became an inferno. It’s growing. Despite all that’s trying to extinguish it. All these extinguishers all around. Trying their best to quell something that they wish they had. The private domain of tortured individuals. It’ll burn me up, or it’ll shine. What won’t ever happen, is for it be tamed.

I’ll burn wild.

What am I doing wrong? What am I doing right? Is anything that I’m doing right? Am I not doing enough? Am I not doing what I’m doing right? Am I capable of doing what I’m supposed to be doing right? Do I just need to keep on doing what I’m doing till I get it right?

Questions – in oversupply. Answers – out of stock.

You took a look at my earphones.
Once-white wires; grime-coated.
You took them in your hands.
And gently, attentively, restored them with pureness.
I look, seeing you, from your gesture.

One day, some day down the road, at one of those unavoidable moments when we feel a million miles away. I’ll hold them in my hands; finger them, and remember.

Oh, woe is me, full of pecuniary woe
Slow in, fast out – that’s the flow
Though I do neither drink nor disco
Account’s inching to zero
Riches why not on me bestow?

But why do we still ride?But why do we still ride?

We still do, because, well… we just do.

Because, it’s what we do.

From that one, single moment when we rode a bike for the first time, we knew.

Knew that while the rest of the world felt more comfortable with two legs, we were born to move with two wheels.

Four, is for The Others. Those who don’t understand, and never will.

They mock us – cowards – from behind their tempered glass windows, and take pride in their air-conditioning, ABS systems, and massage seats.

They see the world through their bubble; we feel the world through our soul.

We ride, not just to get from Point A, to Point B.
We ride, because along the way we might get to experience Point C, Point D, Point C, and
We ride, because there’s no point in living life only for the destinations.

What we want to say is: If you ride, any road is good, any bike is fine.

Just keep on riding...

Reasons Not to Ride

• Rain is wet.
• Raincoats are stinky.
• It gets cold at night.
• It gets hot during the day.
• Dirty drivers throw us dirty looks.
• Parking coupons always get stolen.
• At high speed, raindrops are bullets.
• Birds.
• And how they love to poop on our seats.
• Cats.
• And how they use our bikes as scratching posts.
• Drivers.
• And their arrogance.
• Drivers think we don’t belong on the roads.
• Helmets are heavy – not all of us are singhs.
• The people who design the roads aren’t bikes.
• The people who design bike lots aren’t bikers.
• The people who make traffic laws aren’t bikers.
• Girlfriends’ fathers think we’re not good enough.
• Look at the size of lanes – roads aren’t made for bikes.
• Ever noticed how it’s always the inside of our left shoe that wears out?
• Some shopping centres have yet to discover the concept of the bike lot.
• Travel beside a car at the same speed, and you’ll be the one the TP pulls over.
• If you saw road safety ads, you’d think that all bikers crash within 30 seconds of riding.
• And on and on…

Trying to learn as much as possible, as much as I possible can.

Do I have a plateau, and how high is it?

Climbing, with both hope and trepidation. They churn inside, taking hold alternatively.

I hope the ascent’s continual, and I never see the top.

I brush off a trip here, and a stumble there. Brush off the mountain’s dirt, and steadying myself, push on upwards.

The air will get thinner and the advance will get tougher the higher I go, but it’s only natural, and to be expected.

Climb on…

Feels so weird and unnatural, to be doing something without you. You’re so intertwined with my life, that I can’t do without you in any aspect of my life. Vulnerable I have become, yes, but only to you. That’s the price of happiness with you, and it’s a price I gladly pay. For your hold on my heart is immutable, unchanging, unceasing. Such it is that any supposed moment of happiness, if passed without you, would become a moment of sadness, for our moments are to be shared, for all moments on.

A challenge met.

A day saved.

A soul fulfilled.

A heart soothed.

Blissfully enveloped in the contentment of the moment, savouring the transient tranquillity. Heart of hearts hoping for more lasting equilibrium. Musings abound: When will the destination be reached?

Why? Do I persist in being me?

Why? Do I let myself harm myself?

Why? Do I hurt one who is devoted like no one else?

Why? Do I let my humanity cloud my reality?

Vile, worthless, pile of slime.

Do you think your negligible existence worth the air you breathe in?

Grow a backbone, grow a pair, grow up.

Do you fancy stewing in contemptuous spittle?

Do you seek painful pleasure from scorn, disdain, abhorrence?

See the light – there is only darkness!

And it will be a faithful and enduring companion.

It will follow through this instance you call a life, and beyond.

So rejoice!

Is love possible without passion?

I do not know.


Coffee without smell.

Curry without spice.

Soup without warmth.

Form without function, letter without spirit.

Empty, hollow, flat, dead, signifying nothing.

I am an unwanted weed, dry, colourless, withered, a mockery of the flower aspired to.

The day I acquire a taste for frigidity – if ever there be such a day – has not come yet.


Is love possible without passion?

I don’t think so.

Tell me, tell me, what you’re thinking about.

Share with me the secrets of your heart.

Let me delve into, dive into your soul’s deepest recesses.

I want to explore you, be you, know you, love you.

Fiery phoenix, rise, and let me behold you.

Set my heart on fire, you do.

Keep me aflutter, you do.

My life, at your whim’s command.

Your love, my existence requires.

Do you see? Through fate inexplicable, bound to you, I am.

Fire. Burn, burn in me, till I am ashes.

And then, continue burning.

Desperate: without your glance would I be.

Leave me: is to kill me.

I think of you; the fire burns metal.

Guttural, primal: My scream,

Endless, incomprehensible: My despair.

Horrified, petrified: My feelings.

Ever so gently, the wind blows. Strongly enough to titillate – make its fleeting presence known – too weakly to lift the sail, or push. Its only effect, to create false hopes – to frustrate. My arms lie limp, leaden from rowing, though I can’t tell the starting point, from the ending point. Maybe, it’s the same, and I haven’t moved one bit. Looking beside, I find it empty, and find myself filled – filled to the brim, with emptiness.

I feel myself seeping away. Drip by drip. Soon, there will be nothing left. No past, no future, no present. No self. I am a discarded can. I am dry, empty. Starting to rust. My self has been subsumed so long, I’ve forgotten where I placed it. I am this lifeless body, corpse, carcass that’s misplaced its soul, and the rot is starting. I am this junk vessel, top hollow, bottom swirling with bile and sludge. I am going, soon be gone.

Strain harder. Run faster. Move quicker. Rise higher.

You have to.

No one will wait.

You have to.

I remember when I stood, and with my head raised, I had to squint to shield my eyes from the falling raindrops. Hit my face, my clothes, my body, drenching. Looked out over the water, the expanse soothing. The wind touches me, and I shiver, but just a little. I’ll get used to it. I got used to it.

Riding with the pack. Roadbikes, and then there’s me. With my fat tires. Them, with their swift road tires. For every ounce of their effort, it takes me thrice just to keep up. As I strain, I reach the recesses of my being, reach into a reserve of primal energy and go on maniacally.

I have to.

I.

Dear Friend,

Thank you for being there. By there, I mean here, by me. Thank you for being how you are. You’ll have your own family soon, and I am happy for that, and wish you, and your family, only the best. My powers are limited, at best. But whatever I have, whatever I am, is at your disposal, should you need it. Our closeness - not measured by proximity, nor time.

But by bond, and brotherhood.

Me

The feelings ripple within. Waves bouncing off my insides. Churning, churning.

The gulp in my throat.

The path. Me walking along it. Strolling at times, trudging at time, crawling at times.

I look at my shadow, and smile wearily. I had hope, and now, I have my shadow.

I would caress you if I could. Rip you away from my feet, and embrace you. Having you, is bittersweet. You’re the devil I know. At least.

To whom do I belong?

To the one who makes me smile.

To the one who makes me laugh.

To the one who makes me dream.

To the one who makes me better.

To the one who makes me whole.

To the one who makes me love.

To the one I do the same for.

To the one.

I’m yours.

Moving… Moving… Grooving… Grooving… Smoothing…

Moving forward… Want to… Go faster… Not fast enough… Want to… Need to… Go faster… Being left being… Can’t… Can’t get left behind... Don’t know… If time is being wasted… Need to… Do more… Need to… Go Faster… Want to do… So much more… Arrggghhhh…

Let the fire stay… Burn inside… Till the end… Want to burn… Throw myself in the fire… Let me be burnt… Or let me burn… Always managed to stretch myself… Will stretch myself…

Burn with me… Let us burn together… Till the day we burn to ashes…

Burn…

Forgive my quirks, my shortcomings, my weaknesses, my foibles, my idiosyncrasies, my peculiarities.

Forgive my intensity of feeling, which sometimes brings us both intense discomfort.

Forgive my illogic, I think of you with my heart, not my brain. And when emotions rush through me, I find it hard to act as sensibly as I usually do.

Forgive my absent-mindedness, which despite me, is still a part of me. Though when it comes to you, I try to take special care, as I never have for anything else.

Forgive me, and I foresee a lot of forgiving needing to be done in the course of us, for I also foresee our course as being long, and if there is an end, I do not see it.

Was… So close to… Losing you…
We were… So close to… Losing each other…

Something, others could never claim to have.
In such a short amount of time, so quickly, so sudden, tested.
Without warning, without preparation, without caution.
We were tested.
And, without hesitation, without thinking, without consideration for our own self.
Rather than our own self, we chose each other.

Didn’t wish for it to happen.
But glad that, it opened my eyes, made me see, what I have, what we have.

Dare to say: I will never ever be able to find else someone like you. Not close. Not ever. Never want to. I’ve already found you. And you've already found me.

How many more days do we have?
We don’t know.
What we do know, is that we’ll cherish them together...

Dear Yules,

I guess this is it. You are free now. Free from The Neighbour (!!!). To my good-friend-who-happens-to-be-a-girl, I wish you the best. You will continue to have my constant friendship (minus the constant irritation). Whatever you do, think of me and remember the year-plus that we spent talking, gossiping, complaining, griping, bitching, commiserating, consoling and whining together, and just being a friend to each other.

Your Perpetual Neighbour,
Daniel

You. Don’t look at me like that, your gaze is the brightest sun melting the softest butter. Don’t hold me like that, my defences go down and my legs are jelly. Don’t smile at me like that, I swoon and can’t think straight.

No. Actually. Never stop looking at me. Never stop holding me. Never stop smiling at me. Never stop loving me…

Standing with you
We knew we’d be forever
Oh and when you held my hand
I knew it was now or never
These are the best days of my life

Don't wanna miss a thing, with you.

You see through me, into me, and see me for what I am.

And I’m glad that after doing so, you chose me, as I have chosen you.

Pigeonholed Hard

Apologies, not a lemming.

We get it on most every night
when that moon is big and bright
its a supernatural delight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

we get
everybody here is out of sight
they dont bark and they dont bite
they keep things loose they keep it tight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

dancing in the moonlight
everybodys feeling warm and bright
its such a fine and natural sight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

we like our fun and we never fight
you cant dance and stay uptight
its a supernatural delight
everybody was dancing in the moonlight

dancing in the moonlight
everybodys feeling warm and bright
its such a fine and natural sight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

we get in on most every night
and when that moon is big and bright
its a supernatural delight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

dancing in the moonlight
everybodys feeling warm and bright
its such a fine and natural sight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

I could never hug you tight enough. Could never hold you close enough. Could never kiss you deep enough. Could never see you long enough. For it to be enough.

You’re the first to have helped me get pass my reticence, reluctance, reservations, and reach out. It was on that breakwater on the beach, being one with you, when I realised. What was fear and doubt and pride and ego? When I could have Happiness? What was everything else? When I could have You?

In which ever way the wind is blowing, I will kindle our love till the world stops turning. I’ll keep this fire burning. Even when there is no light above, when it comes to you and me, I’ll keep it burning.

I’ll be your friend, your lover, your light.

Sun rays pour in through the glass.
Sunshine and me, bathed in warmth.
Outside, and in - warmth.
The light has a, different hue, in the liminality of late afternoon and evening.
The fragrance of coffee seasons the air, but besides that, the air seems fresher, full of life.
Could it be because I’m sitting beside her?
A curtain of hair, brown-tinged black, shy her face away as she looks down to read.
Her lips glimmer in the sunlight, the rest of her glows.
Looking at her, thinking of her, subtly smiling for her.

She asks me to change seats, and I ask why. She says she wants me to sit beside her, closer.
At that moment, I was a pile of clay… Her pile of clay…

I take her hand, and I kiss it. And wish her scent never leaves my lips.

Twist throttle. Sneer. Fists clenched. Eyes squint. Brake in contempt. Catch me? Go ahead. Haha! Sob… Yeah! Arrgghhhh! Save me from myself. Hey you, watch me! Strange: this world. This world: strange. Stranger on the planet: I am.

Disjointed? Totally!

Sometimes, I don’t know how you feel.
Sometimes, I don’t know exactly how I feel.
So, will you light up the way into your heart?
And, in doing so, light up my heart for all times.

"I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am”

My first, and my last.

Signifier: Sweet and Chewy Fruitella Strawberry

Signified: Chewy Sweetness! Burst of Sunshine in the mouth! Sweet memories!

Rushing. Firefighting. Things going wrong. Multiple critical issues all requiring immediate and undivided attention. Feel like puking. I’m in heaven – if I were a sadomasochist…

Taking a short breather to post.

Single, solitary ray of light. Sunshine. One is enough. How could Sunshine be lovely, cuddly, huggable, make you do silly things, make you lose sleep, and most importantly, make you smile, altogether? Gathering courage to say properly what has been, but not really said.

You’re the sun that shines on me. And also the moon that pulls the ebb and flow of my tide.

You’re a butterfly, and every flap of your wing effects a hurricane within me.

Beside you. Facing away, but I’m watching you, and thinking of you. Every time you rub your neck and arms, and I see your skin irritated red, I worry. Every time I see you coughing, I wish it was me instead.

You touch my face to wake me up, and I reach out to hold your hand. Only for a moment, but it was enough to know it felt right. That your hand belonged in mine, and mine, in yours. And when I had to let go, it was with great reluctance.

Worried.

Of speeding. Of going too fast. And then being clamped down for that. Hard to gauge when there’s no obvious speed limit sign. Or a warning letter before my advance is arrested. Even if there is, the sign’s vague and I can’t make out the details. So I don’t know, if I’m going too fast, too slow, or going just right.

Analogies: convenient little things.

Unlikely friends.

Started out on the wrong foot. Rubbing the wrong way sometimes. Took a while to size each other up. I’m not unaware that I’m a difficult personality. I try to make up for it in other ways, if I can, if I’m not obliviously wandering in my own world. For the long haul. Looking to the future together. Destinies intertwined? Maybe not so dramatic. But there’s alignment.

Let’s try to see if we can’t make a tasty rojak together.

Missing.

Like feeling that you’ve forgotten something but can’t remember what it was. Just that this time, the feeling lingers, and you know what it is you’re missing. Sunday morning, sitting at a café feeling lost, and the music isn’t helping.

Want to find it back soon.

Looking forward to the end of the day.
So my day can break, and I can be whole again.
So I can see the sun, be awakened, and be alive again.
So bright and sunny, I crave its rays, its warmth bathing my cheeks.
Thinking of the sun - want to be in its glow.

If the face turns red, it’s not flushed – it’s a blush. Weariness of the day, overcome by light-headed, fuzzy warmth. Directing dreams in the sleep, and carrying onto the next day. If this was a remote island, I would have no use for a boat.

Oh, where art thou? Haven’t heard, or seen anything for this day. There’s this creeping, sinking feeling coming over. Like being held aloft previously, and when without, gravity starts to pull down. No wonder it’s a rainy day again – the sun’s missing.

Worried. Of not being up to it.
Why. Do you look so sad.
Don’t know. Who I am.
Trying to. Find out who you are.
Wish I could. Help more.
Going. With the flow.
Let me. Know more.

Caught myself smiling. Then I realised, my mind was somewhere else. Not far, far, away. But still, thinking. Hard to focus when half your brain’s been taken up. The RAM has already been allocated, willingly. Going more on the fuzziest of fuzzy logics now than on being logical…

Don’t know. If it’ll end up, like how I always do. Need. To. Get along with the rest of the human species. Still figuring out how. Please, be patient with me. Not, used to other humans. Not, even comfortable with meself. Don’t know, if words are all I’m capable of. Hope – not. Let down – I might turn out to be. Hope: that I’ll live up. Why: Is it always a struggle? Hope: That I’m more good than harm.

Just because it was mute before, doesn’t mean that when it speaks it’s barking.

Switching the MP3 off – but another beat is starting to play.

Looking at the screen – thinking somewhere else.

Laughing my heart out – outside laughing, inside smiling.

Food turning cold – sorry Food, you know I’ll always love you.

Hours passing – how did light turn to night so fast?

Time to go – watching till out of sight.

A little more than two years since this began.

At least, I can say, I’ve made the first, few, baby steps towards the direction I want to go before the eventuality of death. What have I done since? Accomplished how much? The reticence to answer doesn’t signify well.

In some areas I have shuffled forward. In some others I have stumbled backwards. At least I haven’t stagnated. At least I’m not in the same place I was before, looking around and realising that everything – including my youth – has moved on without me.

At least I still have my two best friends. I’m not exactly sure, how things are supposed to go, when you’re best friends growing old. We’re not technically old, but I do feel that way, and I’m thankful for that grounded, mature feeling. Like a mature glass of wine, instead of a can of fizzy drink. I’m not sure how things will be when you’re both married, with children, and with the corresponding competing concerns. I’ve chosen my best friends, and this number is unlikely to increase through the course of my life. And even though our directions might diverge, I hope we’ll continue sharing our joys and sadness, and continue mutually being able to be the few people in the world we can be totally true with.

At least I’ve felt a few incipient, doubtful yet hopeful stirrings that might just prove that I’m not totally hopeless. And I hope that whatever I’ll do, on balance, it’ll be for the better. To generate more smiles; to mean something.