those electronic cameras. 
those electronic taggings. 
those times when we lit the candles. 
those times when leprosy was the fear. 
those times when buffet was in vogue 
these days the serving chopstix are in fashion
those times when hugs prevail 
these days when distance prevents 
those days when we breathe freely 
these days snuggled behind masks 
these days we head not to the movies 
these days we head to the isolated nature parks 
for a whiff of fresh air. maybe clean fresh air. *fingers crossed 
personal relationships, once taken for granted, takes a new strain 
i urge you. meet her for lunch. meet him for a coffee. give her a kiss. him a hug. 
these times, these days, they may soon be a luxury. 
many cant afford. looking at their purse of fears. 
    
Sunday, April 27, 2003
Saturday, April 26, 2003
      travels. 
armed with the flyers, telling us the must sees, must dos. 
armed with a camera, compelling us the must-takes, must snaps 
armed with eyes, that position so close behind the lenses 
we see the place, through the lens. 
we read the place, through the maps. 
we fail to put ourselves into place, to take a couple of seconds, 
to see outside the brochure,
to listen to what, the earth. the rocks. the trees. the waters. 
have to tell us.  
that present moment, 
is surrendered to the past (all we read, all we wanted, all we desired to see) 
and the future (those yet to be developed photos, the yet to be written travelogue)
and we failed to attune ourselves, outside of any ideologies. to see and take a place, to be what it is. to us. 
independent of the person next to us, the flyer in our hands, the cameras in our bags. 
promise me, the next time you travel, learn to read the place outside of all the spoonfed knowledge you have had of it.
:welcome Evan! from Sarsville to Slowville 
::kudos Emily, for fantastic displays @ acca 
*peace
    
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
      dear dead air 
one ear leans to hear your voice, the body turns endlessly, bones strained by the constant bending 
yet not succumbing to rest. 
one foot strayed into the alleyways, to seek you. 
or even maybe just a piece of your presence
one eye tears for you. the other ear searches to hear bout you. 
though the sole mouth and heart spills words and actions otherwise. 
daddy told me to refuse candies from the stranger, this time around, the stranger offered more than candies 
and foolishly i embraced all that. stranger went dumb. acted oblivious. 
and the little girl got choked on the candies. but mommy's by your bedside. fear not. 
domino-ed news: 
*shame on apple(what a name for a start!), using the icq to check out esther's significant other. i am apalled! 
  
    
Monday, April 21, 2003
      
intoxicated with your intellectual
till the day i followed ur footprints 
to see it leading to the path i fear 
it was like running with scissors
carpe diem, the sole reason i indulged today 
tomorrow never comes as fast as regrets fall 
those times we played games are over 
they have ceased becoming fun 
a porcelain heart. a new age sensitivity. handle me with care. 
those words are wicked. those actions are acidic. 
they call you names. you label them strange. 
circling. tail to face. face to tail. 
vicious cycle, yet again. 
    
Friday, April 18, 2003
      it is only in my mind's eyes 
eyes shut 
that i see the vividness of the actual experience
of seeing you once more. 
be true to yourself 
be true to all the forces around you
remove yourself, from those image making stints 
be aware that all of it is transitory 
and it will come to pass 
for me it has. and i no longer fear. 
those bumping into you-s scenarios. 
in the streets. alleyways. and lanes. 
happy easter folks!
Christ lives. sinners sin. 
    
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
      problems of today, resolved by the technology of tomorrow
tomorrow of yesterday, present time of today
i hear her speak of you. and it all speaks for itself. 
you have been around. still am around. 
someday, somehow, i will get around
to nailing you down 
you clown
    
Saturday, April 12, 2003
      another day just became the past. and we blame our last. having lusts. of a triple time. 
another night without rest. weary eyes. boggled minds. untainted by the showers of bombings. 
half the people in the world love the other half. half the people in the world hate the other half. 
half the people in the world i havent met, half the people i met, i lost the closest contacts. 
half the shoulders i brushed, i rushed thru them. sorry, i have been brash. 
autumn brings with it a hint for reflections. alittle untimely. work pins one down, passion pulls one up. just enough room for a whiff of fresh air. 
it becomes hard to find, words that are true and kind. and less hard to find, words that are untrue. and unkind. 
the values one puts down on paper, and the values one executes out in person. a unique distance. so far from near. 
    
Thursday, April 10, 2003
      i should be asleep. i should keep silence. the most ideological effects are those that have no words and ask no more, than, complicitous silence. 
    
Friday, April 04, 2003
      i am walking with my eyes shut. 
one favor i ask.
help me up when you see me falling. 
pull me up, when you see me limping. 
push me in the dam. when i am damned. 
just wake me from the dream. thats headed the wrong direction. 
i did it for many. so would you do it for me. just dont let me stray. 
i seriously miss myself. if thats ever possible. 
s c r e w e d 
 
    
Tuesday, April 01, 2003
      was flipping through my old diaries yesterday. speckled of dust settled on them. i choked when the wind blew them back in my face. how often, do i get choked by my own actions. by my non-actions. by my speech. by my silence. by the things i do and the things i choose not to do. umpteen times. i get bewildered, led astray, run amok, turn insane, by sheer human to human relations. the tongue allows more than just tasting, it keeps the bitterness. the eyes offers more than just seeing, it searches for the (in)visible. the mouth offers more than just talking, it produces silence. which generates, more talk than sheer talk. i call them lines of flights, you brand them points of stasis. 
i sing a song, in the centre of a rally. i find a spot. i draw a circle. thats my stable centre, in the heart of chaos. i know the bombs are raining, i know that brothers and sisters are leaving, for good. i orientate myself with my song, i hum in a rhythm, i try to organise my thoughts. i sing. i sing not to forget. not to remember. but to suppress the forces. the chaos. the amok. i venture from home daily, into the world out there, on a thread of a tune. and i am glad, i hum on my way home. 
in many eyes, i am an anti war radical. but i arent. i am merely searching for that ragged doll for Fareeza. and maybe a new dad, for Yasin. and what are you doing, thanking heavens that you were born into the right continent, of the right color and remarking that, theres so much one can do. and so much more one cant do. so lets all stand, and do nothing. watch the hours fly. feel the heart beat. not a second faster. 
    
