with |ove; me

Monday, July 09, 2007

one of my favourite pictures, as you might be able to tell.

so this afternoon was messed up,
and any attempt on my part to makeup was completely disregarded.

there's nothing much else i can do, is there?

so i've attempted to clean up my room,
only finding myself settling on the sheepskin carpet and pulling out that forbidden box.

i tilt it towards me, pulling out familiar thingies,
reading stuff i recognize as my own handwriting.
placing dates.

then i pull out old presents.

i suppress the urge to cry-
pick up old tickets and let them fall back into the box, carelessly almost -
rummage through pieces of cloth, paper and a couple of soft toys.

there's an old present.
a night light with a cardboard outline of the southern hemisphere.
my seventh month present to him.

i pick it up,
it's in pieces.
the edges i had carefully taped together are ripped from each other, flattened out to fit the box.
the night light and other half of cardboard are disjointed.
run my fingers over the holes in the cardboard.

when the nightlight shines through those holes,
it projects the whole southern hemisphere in your room.

i trace the little extras i've punctured in:
happy 7th month
i heart you

flames to dust
lovers to friends
why do all good things come to an end

my mind can't help wandering back and recreating the night i made that for him.

it's like a tattoo,
you never forget what happened,
how you made the art piece.
you don't forget how you felt, ever

i spent all of two hours
puncturing little holes into traced out pictures of star warriors and whatnot.
punctured tinier holes in order to link one star to another to another, and yet another.

i was contented and happy when i was done.
my blistered fingers meant nothing because i was sure
so sure he'd love it.

who knew that a year on,
i'd be pulling it out of a heap,
carefully taped edges torn and nothing more than -
to anyone -
a piece of junk.

and all i could do was curl up and cry and cry,
the sounds from my throat,
barely recognizable as my own.

my head hurts from crying too much,
and my eyes are sore.

i'm gonna take a huge bunch of pills and go to bed now.

- xoxo
charis loves you
10:34 PM

Comments: Post a Comment

only yours baby

i'm charis vera Ng,
i'm NOT a Singaporean, i was born in UK
but i spent most of my four years in scotland
i love alastair(:
i'm doing my best to live for God though i often fail miserably

ok,try this:
you're this girl who's flown over to this country when you're no more than four years of age
you resent your dad for it,
and it doesn't help when things between your parents don't work out either.

so you miss your home terribly,
you miss going strawberry-picking,
you miss eating boiled eggs out of egg-cups
and you miss warm and cuddly Uncle John and Aunty Esther.

instead,
you find yourself forced to change
and adapt in a horribly hot place
where in primary school,
you meet cold,heartless little kids who ignore you and don't let you play "family"
just cos your accent is different.
early on,
you get weird looks and you find yourself going for recess breaks alone.
your classmates complain to the class teacher when you call them stupid
because they don't understand what to you is simple english.
but they leave you alone when you call them an imbecile
because they don't know what it means.
your primary 1 & 2 class teacher takes joy in complaining to your mummy
because she detests you.
she detests you for constantly correcting her english grammer and pronunciation in front of the class
you soon realize that you can actually gain and keep friends upon them finding out your mother's an actress
but by that time you've more or less forced yourself to lose your accent which makes communication a lot easier anyway.

that was the little girl charis,
now,
on top of that,
i can be a total biotch sometimes, towards people.
and don't tell me you aren't sometimes please.
but i try my very best not to bitch about people.
im a dangerous shopper(=
i never know what i want or need til i see it.

i don't like television.
now that's a first innit?HAH.
bet you never knew someone who didn't like tv
well i don't
and i'm not trying to be different and difficult
it's noisy and boring
i like music:)
i find eating a chore but i love snacking
figure that out
i find certain kinds of pain addictive,
no, i promise i'm still sane.

which is actually pretty remarkable for someone living here,
in this time and place
where you normally get loads of homework,
tests with questions that look like they're in foreign language,
and where everything's a competition to be the best,
the prettiest,
the most popular,
the most hated,
the thinnest,
the fattest, the coolest
the list goes on.
one shouldn't try to be something you're not,
but everyone knows that's easier said than done.
like duurh.