The Thought Of You

It lingers around this head of mine. Your name, your face and all that I’ve seen you done. I picture you in a puzzle uncompleted, with no box to guide nor shapes on the sides to let me figure how to fit in.

Your thoughts, your revelations - a void between me and my life. Coy rejections and avoidance was your answer to my confession. Yet time and again you never fail to make an impression.

I always have this thought of a perfect woman who would made me fall head over heels for, but then I saw you. And it was your imperfections that stole my heart and soul.

Something always bring me back to you

You are the hole in my head, the void in between this space between my thoughts and reality. Images of you haunt me in the recesses of my mind, shadowing all over me like the light I could never escape.

Somehow something always brings me back to you. The places we’ve been, the things we’ve done, the words you’ve said. I can’t erase the thoughts of you even after a year has passed since we last met… Whenever you flash across my mind those scars still bleed though my tears had ran dry.

Our conscious mind can process 16 bits of information per second, our unconscious however can process 11 million. Maybe that’s why unknowingly, I kept dreaming of you… But my dreams never comes true…

And I hate it.

Alone

It’s been sometime since I wrote… And in this new chapter of my life, time just passes by so quickly. Fleeting like the wind, I could not even remember some of the things accomplished, circumstances and people met. In this string of coincidences and a little trick of fate, I met people whose life intertwined mine in situations less often travelled.

Yet in this sea of people, I felt like a lone sailor… Going wherever the waves take me. That’s why sometimes in the midst of all the laughter I sat by in my melancholic self. Wondering what’s happiness and what’s in the future.

Maybe I need some time to warm up to people, or maybe I’ve never knew how to be happy ever since love left me… 

Or maybe, I just need someone else to change me altogether.

Estranged Past

It’s amazing how a movie can bring back distant memories, memoirs locked away as the hands of time spun relentlessly. Each second tightening the screws to these chests containing the past, waiting, to be unlocked by a certain key.

Then this movie comes along, like a replay of your life in episodic moments. The songs and plot so close you could literally feel how the characters felt. It is then you realize you have already been absorbed into this vortex of the past. Reliving each bits and pieces of the past. But as the story reached its happy ending, you start wondering what happens there after…

And after the credit rolls, you realized that the seats beside are all empty and you are still all alone… Those songs of reminisce are just an epicedial of a broken past.

Happily Ever After

I love romantic movies even though I have this weird pavlovian response to tear upon them. A 6 month to a year journey condensed into a 2 hour story. A depiction of our lives in different aspects and angles framed against perfect people. Some stories reminds me of the times I had and will never have, some filled me with possibilities of another romance. And when the credits roll it filled my loveless life with some light, some hope. Like how an ending will always have a snippet of the happily ever after…

But time after time, movie after movies, this tinge of melancholy never leaves me. Like this grey line between the black and white, between your once yes and nos. As my heart and soul let you go, and as the places changed and the world moved on. I tried to detach you from the very fibre of my being… I know I could never forget you completely, but I still try.

I shouldn’t be paving the present with pain from the past as I have to let you go. Because I know you will be living happily ever after with him.

And that’s where the credits of our story roll…

Photography

Behind this lense, I see people in different shades of light. Emotions and feelings burnish through the expressions on every picture. People whom I’ve never met or knew, I stopped them in my memory, and eventually in this digital space of eternity. Intrigued by their momentary action, I closed my shutter and froze these images in my mind, in my camera.

In this masquerade of the human condition, I see people in moments they least expect, a moment, behind this camera of mine. As the 7 colours of light epitomize the 7 facets of the human condition. I put them together, one ray at a time. Hoping someday to find the perfect combination for myself.

In each picture, I connect to a different perspective. And as I decipher the different views of each individual, I began to understand them. Their feelings, their reasons, the very essence of why I wanted them to be part of my life and me, a part of their memories.

Photography is not just about keeping memories, but defining them in a way by showing others what I’ve seen. That’s why a picture’s worth a thousand words.

New Year Resolution

It’s that time of the year again. When pyrotechnics resets the count back to 0, and we just reiterate what we’ve done year after year. We count another 365 days before all these get rehashed again… We rinse and repeat and then write the same resolutions to each new year with mendacity…

Every year is like an elevator ride… We move on, up and down, between places both new and old. Hoping for new things to happen, waiting to make a difference… But at each floor, we somehow already knew what to expect. That with each level stopped, we gained and lost some people. Some exit; only to come back again, some just left the building; never to be seen again.

Yet in this constant traverse between the ups and downs, between the strangers and familiar people I see in and out. There are times I kept pressing the next floor button in this psychosomatic belief that by doing so, time will move faster.

By then I had became so absorbed in this process I fail to appreciate the things these people have said and done. Until this banal process is over, do I remember a bit of everyone. But by then they are gone…

I’m tired of resolutions, I’m tired of things I’ve said but never will do. But every year, I still make these superfluous assumptions, that somehow or another, I will be assiduous. In this cycle of constant reverberation, I’ve decided to cherish whoever and whatever I have… Not because a bird in hand is worth 2 in the bushes.

But because I never know, when I will lose them…