therapeutic violence

Just like the Aristolean view
Of tragedy impacting its audience
Violence can be cathartic- You should learn to give it
More of an open minded fair chance. View it
Not through the spectacles which
Society his forced you to wear; nor the in-vest-ment of the
Straitjacket of vengeance, which some may think look fly.

violence can be an anodyne.
Without precipitating the
ritual murder of my brain cells
Or making me regurgitate everything from within
into a waterhole.
Ancillary
to the real issue but
auxiliary to relief
like drugs or alcohol or
expensive cigarettes,
violence is always there for you- without leaving its
permanent mark.

Lights and disco and all the works
Flesh and dress - treating
The Senses.
Gave my girl a fleeting
Moment of an eye-flirt.
Nose broken, teeth chipped- smell of
Blood on my fist
Commotion. Bouncers
Acting like they know how
To deal with this
They haven’t dealt with me
The
Amoral
Manichean
candidate for infliction
There are no gray areas- I blame Adam Weisshaupt for this
Violence is what I do- take it
You can’t leave it
Felt like I
was on the hostile
ground of Laconia- a man
Looked and acted like Leonidas
But he was unequipped to deal with a minor
Situation such as this.
Let alone take the reigns of a
Militaristic
State which Hitler couldn’t dream of.
He wouldn’t dare hurt me
No
Im king-fucking–kong
Violence is always with me
I can get it with money or
with love or with
a gun.

Love and cigarettes

My pack is half depleted
I’ve smoked far too many
Sighs a-sorrowing hugs,
A borrowing
As I traverse the shadows.

Gray’s Inn road, Russell Square.
Dead of night
Alone, walking.
Walking.
Rebonded hair, moist eyes.
slacks and slippers.
“do you remember me?”
blank look.
Memory recall-
“do you remember me?”
no answer.

I need replenishment;
Off-licence eludes me.
Call for a loser.
Should I pick up?
Jilted, lost- not enough.
Smoke in my eyes,
Sweet pain
Mingled with acute hurt.
Flakes on floor.
My broken heart.
Bitterness prevails- need her back
If she cant remember;
How could I forget.
No.
no way.

Morally indictable offence,
Tried for treason;
Betrayal of the heart
Was I not betrayed.
No evidence.
What
So
Ever.
Claim without cause.
Prestidigitator

I shall smoke my last cigarette
Whence I cannot kiss again.
2004
draws to a close.
penultimate
cigarette
extinguished on my tongue.

still waters run deep

I have never known a truer exemplification of this saying than what I experienced today.

A typical blond-hair, blue-eyed white girl. Quiet and shy demeanour. Aesthetic in the same sense as jiejie is: no one could contend she’s ugly, but no one would probably regard her as Halle Berry or something. In short, a nice thingy to decorate me as I sauntered down to Selfridges to get my Dior Homme jacket which I absolutely adore =)

Ok let us not digress from my exposition of this beauty. An artist, caught up in the pursuit of passion rather than financial success. Content to spend her life “in a cardboard box” for the struggle of her art. Observant and rational, able to read people with stunning depth and accuracy. Family orientated person, emotionally close to her parents and sibling. Regularly suffers from home-sickness.

At first glance, perhaps just a slight deviation from your average run-of-the-mill girl.

Here is the surprise: she fights. And does it well too, not technically, but with ferocity that would make you shudder. Reminds me of my ex-roomate. People who are inspired by anger. The blood-pumping machinery builds up to a boil, unable to contain itself, it has to find a victim.

Having said that, I’d be so hurt to actually see her in action. I would never wanna see sweet Lauren lose her temper and do something she’d regret. I kinda pity those who’ve told me about what she’d done; they have seen it, which must have been a hurtful experience. It is utterly contrary to her good-nature (as opposed to me, for I have no good nature).

She told me she was glad her ex-boyfriend didn’t break up with her face-to-face. She was worried that if anything that could remotely be conceived as a weapon was in close proximity would lead to something going terribly wrong. Sweet Lauren please don’t do that. Control yourself.

I don’t know what else to say, this entry has made me rather despondent. It is quite a melancholic tale don’t you think?

Missed two tutorials this morning. Feel really guilty. And im not working hard. I have not done a single bit of work today. Not one bit. Trying to deal with that sickly taste at the back of my mouth from the stomach acid i have to deal with for drinking too much last night. This is meant to be the be-all-and-end-all of my education, and I do not seem to be making full use of it. Majorly fucked up. Sometimes I wish I was like Lauren, or my baby for that matter. If only I could be contented with less. Id just read history and become a lecturer or something.

This blog is distracting. Plus, its not making me feel good about myself. I can no longer write as well as when I was in Singapore, don’t u reckon? I think I’m in a crisis stage of my writing development. Fucking law school.

And hence, I shall go on blog hiatus. This blog shall be relegated temporarily to a mere conduit for communication. Love ya all!