Monday, 1 December 2014

What is this darkness that I keep falling into? 
I stumble around, trying to find my path. 
My hands are cut and scratched from things that I can’t see, 
My shins and feet bruised and bleeding. 

Why is the path that lies ahead of me void of any guiding lights? 
Why do I search and seek, but for naught? 
My heart yearns for lucidity, but none do I find. 
What now?

I cry out into the emptiness,
There is no one that hears.
Or is there no one that answers?

Hope, my dear heart, hope.
Tis life has more, and surely this journey too.
Dream, my dear soul, and dream more,
Else I die alone in this darkness.

Saturday, 29 November 2014

parallel lines on the right

I sat there patting the sand together to build a sandcastle, but she sat there moulding it into a heart shape mound.

Maybe it was subconscious. Maybe it wasn't. There wasn't a way to know for sure. 

The moon was dim, and not a single star in the sky. People were chatting and laughing in the background, and the air had a foul smell - probably from the residents burning their rubbish nearby. There was no romantic music, just the sound of terrible singers from the karaoke in the surrounding buildings.

Sigh. 

Maybe it was for the best. In some other universe, we could have been more than friends. We could have grown old together, building sandcastles on the beach. But not in this universe.

And so I laid down and gazed up at the sky. My vision blurred as tears started to come out. I struggled so bad to hold it back. Not like this. Not in front of her. I need to stay strong.

Then the sky joined me as raindrops fell ever so lightly. I looked at her and wondered, will my tears be lost in the rain? And then I saw her tears.

I curse this disease. Why does she have to go so soon?

Wednesday, 21 May 2014

Paper Planes

Some of my brothers take to the sky, while some fall. Some seem to go on and on, with the wind beneath their wings, while others end up flying backwards.

We are all seemingly similar, yet vastly different. Can anyone predict our flight course? Maybe. Maybe not. But still we try.

To take to the sky. To soar like the brothers before us. To go on and on, reaching Neverland.

---
Paper plane,
Fly away
And take my dreams with you
To where you want to land
Paper plane,
Don't forget
Where you came from
And the people you left behind

- Jan

Saturday, 10 May 2014

I sat by the window, looking out at the yard. The weather was great to be out playing. The sun was shining, with no rain clouds in sight. Three kids were out playing football in the yard. They were laughing and running, chasing each other round and round to no end.

Sigh.

Youth. When did age overtake me? I feel every joint in my body aching, and the thought of running around and kicking a ball juvenile and unnecessary. Get a job! Get married and have kids!

And then a shout distracted my thoughts.

---

“John! Why aren’t you out playing with your friends?”

“They’re just kicking a ball. I’m too old to be running around pointlessly.”


“They’re your classmates, and you’re ten for goodness sake! Stop talking like that and go play.”

---

Sigh. Maybe I grew up too soon. Where did my childhood go?

Wednesday, 7 May 2014


Oh dear flower,

When did you bloom? I have lived my whole life in this room, and yet I never noticed you by the window. Oh how beautiful you have bloomed, with your petals so brightly coloured. How did you grow without me realizing your beauty, and how is it that you crept up to this height without awareness? I hope you live forever, through sunshine and rain, and continue to brighten up my every day.

---

Oh dear flower,



When did you wither? It was not too long ago, when I saw your petals so brightly coloured. What made you this way? Did the weather make you waste away? Was it because I did not pay you enough attention? Oh dear flower, I do miss you oh so much. But I know that my life was better because you were once a part of it.



Tuesday, 25 February 2014

Kite flying

Sometimes, it's okay to cut the string and let the kite fly away. We try so hard to hold on to the kite, but the winds are too strong, and the string is cutting into our fingers. Maybe it's not worth it anymore. Maybe it's time to let go, and find a new kite to fly. Or a new place to fly.