Tuesday, June 21, 2011


Words aren’t needed, yet
Who said you would escape quietly?
Under a guise of adoration,
You cast your spell.
Did you take me to be so weak,
So as to simply buckle
Beneath your intimidation?
Your rivalry would have been an honour,
But I’m content to smile back.
You don’t realise, do you?
The favour you did me.
Your resilience burns through
A pervasive aura of merciless strength.
It is nothing but one of your tactics
Leaving me defensive.
I envisage you standing over my shoulder,
Smirking in delight,
For each step I take, each word I speak…
Someday, I will be where you are.


I'm still not happy with my writing. *sighs* 

Other than that, I realise that words have power. I must be careful with my author's notes in future. 

Sunday, June 12, 2011

The Insightful Charm

The translucent, curved pendant gleamed like the moon, reflecting greyish undertones from its circular countenance.

“Do you like it?”

I nodded, too overwhelmed to respond. “It’s chalcedony, isn’t it?”

Another nod confirmed my guess.

The medallion dangled from the delicate silver chain I held in my hand, working it to and fro.

“Here, let me,” he offered, taking the ornament from my hands and tying it around my neck.

I sighed. “Can I thank you enough?”

He chuckled. “It’s fine. You needed a charm.”

I was too caught up in observing how my new possession sparkled and glimmered in the fading sunlight, until he leaned in to whisper, “Sometimes, that is all one needs, eh?”

For a moment I was taken aback, not comprehending his words.

He pointed towards the glittering pendant. I looked at it closely, until it struck me as to how it seemed to take on a life of its own, becoming the sun itself as rays shone over its surface.

I couldn’t distinguish any colour.

He sighed, more so out of contemplation than disquiet. “You see, had it been any other stone, it would have drawn on the light to enhance its own beauty, whereas this little piece simply becomes a medium for the light to shine.”

I saw the meaning as clear as day. Glancing towards him in astonishment, I managed to utter. “You certainly don’t mean…”

He nodded, smiling. “Why did I say that it suits you? Because you yourself are like this piece of chalcedony.”


Lame, I know. But the fact that school is about to begin, tomorrow, does this to my writing, I suppose. In any case, I did want to flesh out the analogy of the pendant, but neither can I find the words, nor I have the inclination to do so. Maybe later, perhaps. 

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Matrimonial Affairs

She had always been able to figure what she wanted to do, despite the veil of indecisiveness that she wore just to give others the benefit of doubt.

But today...she didn’t know if she could withstand the consequences if she chose either way.

The sparkling diamond set in a slender gold ring wasn’t making it any easier.

She was being asked to marry. Him. The sheer intensity of the moment, as he knelt down and proposed her, shook her from head to toe.

Say, how would it be if we were married?

He couldn’t get more obvious than this. She should have known better.

“We have been living together for, what, like two years? Why do you want to marry me?”

A slightly offended look crossed his face and she bit her tongue. Oh dear, that sounded completely wrong.

“No, scratch that. I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to marry you, but, it’s…it’s…isn’t it a bit too sudden?” No sooner did she say than her hand went to her mouth in shock, her eyes wide and beguiling – the very picture of confused innocence.

He laughed. “Don’t tell me the idea of marriage has never crossed your mind.”

She looked into his eyes, surprised. In her frenzy, she had not noticed the subtle signs that showed how equally difficult it was for him. The hand that held the ring shook in the slightest, so did his gaze which wavered every now and then.

She took a moment to ponder on his remark. Of course the idea had come to her: which girl doesn’t dream of marriage? Nevertheless, fantasies apart, she had honestly not reckoned that their relationship would come to this threshold, not now at least.

However, as she looked at him, taking in his profile as he continued to kneel, she knew without a doubt how fortunate she was. Considering their diverse backgrounds and how their personalities were poles apart, she had never expected him to be so adjusting, even compromising. The very fact that he was proposing to her of all people; this simple, unassuming girl who could be said to be living in the shadow of her glorious counterparts (whom he knew, obviously) was admirable.

She looked away, slightly smiling. “I cannot dishonour your esteemed proposition, can I now?”
A sigh of relief escaped him but he didn’t spare her a retort. “You’re not obliging me.”

“Of course not,” she affirmed as she knelt down to the same level as him, extending her hand.

They looked into each other’s eyes as he gently slipped the ring onto her finger.

No words were needed.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Afflictions of Solitude

The door opens into darkness. She peers into the void, trying to discern any trace of a normal, bustling home.
“I’m home,” she whispers. Silence greets her in response.
She sighs as she kicks off her shoes and hangs the keys over the rack. Closing the door to her room only adds to the finality of the quiet that pervades through the whole house.
She leans against the door, closing her eyes. The wood against her skin does nothing to reassure her.
“Reassurance for what?” she wonders. Reassurance for the fact that she was a victim of her circumstances – it wasn’t her doing that it was her mother’s critical behaviour, her father’s temperamental, volatile tendencies that wreaked havoc on this fragile castle of dreams they called their ‘home’?
She ambles towards the dressing table, catching sight of her reflection in the mirror.
Against the soft moonlight, her complexion is ashen. Her eyes are wide, speaking more of vulnerability than innocence. Her lip slightly trembled and imagined chills pricked her skin, making her shiver.
“Is this how everyone sees me?”
Frail, weak, prone to anguish. A helpless child trapped in not so benign environs, where at each step her makings of a genius are refuted and buried under the increasing weight of insecure acquaintances and selfish motives.
Or was it all her thinking?
Her hand extended towards the mirror, the fingers lightly caress the outline of her face.
Oh, what not she would have given to have someone hold her lovingly.
Tears run down her cheeks, but she is rendered catatonic.
“Just who…am I?”
She only wished she knew. Or someone knew.
But the answer was lost somewhere within her soul. She didn’t have the strength to seek what she needed the most.
She sinks onto her knees, her head hung low. The looming silence is only broken by her quick breathing.
Darkness seemed to be closing in. She moans, a wave of despair washing over her. Dragging herself to her bed, she curls up, waiting to be taken into an impenetrable slumber.
Sleep extends its arms in a lulling comfort, the only consolation she has ever known.
But then again, who ever knew of the sheer despondency she suffered through, day and night? The fa├žade of strength doesn’t fade away, even against utter hopelessness.
“Is this what life turns out to be for everyone?” she wonders dreamily.
As always, her words echo and reverberate against the bare walls of an empty house, of a lonely heart…
Depressive, I know. However it's a result of the catharsis I had been going through. That's all I can say.