Only One?

I think it is important that you can be alone.

Solidarity is not an easy thing to embrace. But I believe once you really get to know yourself and find that inner peace, you will want to have a moment to yourself to savour it. And tell everyone to go away.

I believe you can be alone without being lonely.

People crowd your thoughts sometimes, and not allowing you to take deep breaths. Sometimes you think you need to be around people to be feel real: to be acknowledged, to be wanted, to be touched. Maybe all you really need is a cup of tea.

I know that you can be alone and not feel sad.

Happiness is a state of mind. The more you have, the more you think you need. Less is more. Simplify your life. Maybe then you'll know what it feels to be on the other side. See things from another perspective. But know thyself.

Solidarity can be more than just you.

An Adult Relationship

I have an adult relationship

with a man who understands why we need to laugh

who knows why sometimes I need to cry

who accepts we both have flaws

and have feelings after all.

I have an adult relationship

with a man who listens when I need to talk

who tells me when he needs share

who speaks softly to me when I yell

and it calms me down enough to hear my own thoughts.

I have an adult relationship

with a man who knows a thing or two about respect

who shows gratitude to those whom least expect it

who readily lends a hand

even when you don't think you're ready to reach out.

I have an adult relationship

with a man who teaches me humility

who holds dear to simple things because he had it all

who understands the value of the intangibles

like friendship, trust, respect and love.

Dampness

She looked down at her feet, and felt the murkiness between her toes.
Droplets of rain tickled her neck.

The cool dampness felt calming against her warm skin.
She breathed in the stale smell of the streets, its greyness swept by a misty film.
As she lifted her chin to the skies, she spied a rainbow in between the concrete timbers, and reached over to hold his hand.

About A Boy

I had a friend…

my song without music,
my essay without words,

I had a friend…
my reflection in water,
my shadow in light.

I had a friend…
my opposite of love,
my antonym of foe.

I had a friend,
a boy who couldn’t stay,
a boy who ran away.

Faerie Away!

In the middle of July 2007, I was in Faerie...

laying on green, green grass of softness;
smelling twinkles of white and yellow flowers in the meadows;
spying at rainbow coloured birds dashing amongst tree branches;
having petals of cotton and leaves of satin rain down on me;
feeling rays of sunshine, mixed with shadows of the moon against my skin;
drinking sweet golden liquid from streams of champagne;
gazing up at blankets of glitter against deep purple skies;
inhaling breaths of citrusy fruits and honey with a tint of vanilla;
tasting droplets of lemony flavoured morning dew on blades of tall grass;
tickling young white-tailed deers and bunny rabbits that come to say hello; and...

wishing, ever so softly, that happiness will consume me forever more.

Giggles

Hot tea on a rainy day,
Books that take you places, make you think and trigger emotions,
Yellow and white daisies,
Good o'thunder storms,
Cotton candy clouds, in whatever colours,
Counting stars while floating in a big empty swimming pool,
Running (in the rain),
Sipping coffee on the balcony on Sunday mornings,
Dancing to rock music around the apartment,
Having a good cry watching movies,
Watching kids play in the park,
Uncontrollable laughter,
Hugs and kisses from nephew and nieces,
Smell of baby breaths,
Macaroni and cheese,

and Giggles are good too!

Fried Eggs at Midnight

I was in bed. Curtains drawn. The fan made a soft nuzzling sound, circulating the warm air in my room. I had aired my pillows the day before, after suspecting my wheezing and sneezing over the weekend were due to dust mites inhabiting my cotton filled cushions. My eyes were still red and watery, itching from the suspected allergies. I disposed of my disposable contact lenses just hours before. Watched the tiny transparent blue tinted plates wash down the drain as I brushed my teeth.

My room is kept dim with only a table lamp to my left. I like it this way. But I worry that I might someday go blind from reading in shadows. My eyes are stinging from fatigue, but I know I won't be falling asleep when the light is out. So I continued with the story, anticipating the taming of Richard Parker in the setting of the grand Pacific Ocean.

I took deep breaths as I read. One of two nostrils was completely senseless. Blocked. The inner walls flared up. No air particles getting through. Then, I thought I smelled a familiar scent with the other working nostril. Something savoury, with a sweet undertone. Whiffs of deliciousness. I looked at my watch. Midnight. One working nostril can play tricks on you at this hour. I took deeper, longer breaths just to be sure. Yes. I think I'm not imagining it. I laid my book down and sat up. Sniff. Sniff. Sniiiiff. Fried eggs. Something more. Sniff. Sniff. Onion omelette! With a pinch of sugar to help caramelised the onions. I leaned back into my pillows. Back into the Pacific Ocean with a young Tamil boy and a majestic Bengal tiger. Satisfied that I might fall asleep later dreaming of sweet onions and sunny-runny eggs. Not questioning the source of such delicious comforting scent.

I was sure I didn't imagine it.