Drop everything else.

I bumped into someone.
She turned out to be who I was looking for.

splashwurks

quote me on this. splashwurks will be greater.

Viet.

Last week, I couldn't wait to go. Today, I feel like staying.

Control.

Maturity is acting with restrain, simply put.

Waking up.

Your smells linger in this room. It is going to take a long time for them to go away. The room has eternally changed. One I can no longer recognise. I miss you.

A story about Quiet

There was a beautiful lady once who lived in the west. Her name was Quiet. She was a quiet lady because she hardly spoke. Her beau who was contemplating marrying her was also quiet. Quiet in his own way. So they went on with their lives in their very quiet ways and it was strange because they were actually living in an extremely metropolitan city. It was however, not too strange to them because they liked to be quiet.

One day, Quiet told her beau that she wanted not to be quiet anymore. She said that she would like to chirp like birds, roar like lions and even croak like frogs and not live another day without making a sound. He was stunned because it was a dramatic change. A change, he could not swallow. It meant that he could try to be not quite quiet like Quiet or call off his plans. He chose the former because Quiet was a beautiful lady, more beautiful than most. Though being not quite quiet was indeed a feat for Quiet’s beau, he was willing to take up the challenge because it was indeed also quite a feat to land an exquisitely fair lady. But alas, it was not to be. Quiet would like to go and explore her new found unquiet adventures with another else. To chirp like birds, roar like lions and croak like frogs.

And he was quietly heart-broken.

Her

She called me out of the blue and came to my house to meet me.

She has never done that before.

I went down to meet her and we sat on the stone bench at the park for a long while - quietly. I stole brief glances at her, afraid that any long looks will interrupt the awkward silence. She didn't look at me.

A familiar stray cat, brown and dirty, crawled past us.

Are you really going?

I didn't answer. I looked at her and I felt the familiar fluttering of the heart. The first time I felt that, she was getting off a public bus. It hasn't changed all these 8 years.

And I saw that she wanted me like I want her. So badly. I must have imagined a million encounters with her from my vocabulary of borrowed images, but in that instant, I just didn't know what to do.

I wish it is merely erotic but I know it isn't. I know the difference. With most other girls I have dated, sexual advances are merely a verbal consent away. With her, there is always a space. I like looking at her from a distance like she is a complete stranger, knowing that she knows me but knowing simultaneously, that I will never totally conquer every part of her.

This unreasonable space is also a magical space. I stared at her. A stranger once whacked me for staring. Staring is plain uncouth, I know. I wouldn't like it if a guy were to stare at me for a long time. I would certainly give him a piece of my mind. And if he were too big, I would consider convincing the police that he was staring at me and make an arrest. But this stare is different. It has a different effect altogether. It opens up the magical space.

When will you come back?

Between us, I saw a rainbow. I thought I went mad when I saw crisp, white doves whistling through us. Beautiful chimes with unidentifiable tunes hummed softly in the background. The space was so colourful, as if I was spun around and around in a retro room with retro lights reflecting spots from the mirror ball in the middle, only much better. Roses fell like rain. Perfectly round, colourful balloons flashed past. And I was taking a really magnificent express, tunneling through an amazing cascade of colours. I knew I will never be tired of it.

And for the first time in 8 years, we hugged and I teared.