The Book of Disquiet

All of this comforts me with sadness. Perhaps one day, towards the end of the future, someone will write a poem about me. A breath of music or of a dream, of something that would make me almost feel, something that would make me not think.

I took a long time getting ready to exist. Sometimes I have the warm tears of those who don't have and never had a mother; and the eyes that burn with these dead tears burn inside my heart. I don't remember my mother, she died when I was one. My distracted and callous sensibility comes from the lack of that warmth and from the useless longing after kisses I don't remember. Ah, it's my longing for whom I might have been that distracts and torments me! Who would I be now if I'd recieved that affection that comes from the womb and is placed, through kisses, on a baby's face? Whoever held me as a child against her face couldn't hold me against her heart.

My skin and the skin of the pillowcase are like two people touching in the shadows. Even the ear on which I'm lying mathematically engraves itself on my brain. my dreams, they are so gentle that I keep dreaming them as I speak.

They all have, like me, their future in their past. He's not drunk, he's dreaming. He's attentive to what doesn't exist. Perhaps he still hopes. My eyes returned to the man's back, the window through which i saw these thoughts. I had the same sensation as when we watch someone sleep. When asleep we all become children again. This man's back is sleeping, His entire person, walking ahead of me at the very same speed, is sleeping. I look at the other people walking down this street, and I embrace each and every one of them with the same cold, absurd tenderness that came to me from the back of the unconscious man I'm following. Most people think with their feelings, whereas I feel with my thoughts.

I'm a well of gestures that haven't even all been traced in my mind, of words I haven't even thought to form on my lips, of dreams I forgot to dream to the end. Let's not forge to hate those who enjoy, just because they enjoy, and despise those who are happy, because we didn't know how to be happy like them.

I love it because I hate it. I like to look at it because I hate to feel it.

you don't listen to my stories anymore

and in the meantime i have nothing to say.

i'll always be by your side, even when you're down and out. i'll make your bed, i'll cook you food. i'd do these kinds of things, i'll be the best girl you'd ever meet. fill these spaces up with days. in my room. i can't sleep, i can't speak. all these years are locked in my drawer. you pulled me through time. it was always you.

i keep my distance but you still catch my eye, a face on a lover with a fire in his heart. all the things i've tried to say were never easy to explain, they were always meant for you. and all the pieces that remain will build a place for us to stay. they were always meant for you. its impossible to tell how important someone is, and what you might have missed out on, and how you might have changed it all. i think that if we were all we had, thats more than most people ever have. you know that something inside of you still plays a part in what i do. don't stop now that we're almost there. if you weren't real i would make you up. you're special, you're a rocket through me, honey bee.

and i miss you, even here taking it all in. the sand carries the moon on its shoulders, is it possible to put this night to tune and move it to you? don't cry i'll bring this home to you, if i can make this night light enough to move. and if you're gonna wake up, you might as well wake up with me. and if you're going downtown, i might as well be on your way. i need you in the world.

if you want to feel, then we better start touching. if you want water, then we better start crying. it you want tears, then we better start dying. waking up without you is like drinking from an empty glass. it only takes a moment to knot ourselves together, like the ends of a rope, longing to be knotted together. but even lovers have still lives, whole months where they hang together like moths. so from now on love, we will always be about to touch, always about to destroy each other.

your carpet is blue so that it matches your shoes, its like the way drains smoke in new york and its in everything you do. i've made up memories about you. its the way you talk in twos, it's like playing with your food. it's in everything you do. i miss you like the deserts miss the rain. take it slow, take it easy on me. it's the dirtiest clean i know.
you feel alright to me.
but we need hints before we get tired. cast some light, it will be alright. for now.
and while i'm waiting for something to say i'll love no one and let no one love me.

stop talking.

pangea, we used to be together, why'd we have to drift apart.

it sounds much better if we're close together. oh sweet dirty things, we could find an old boxcar in the woods to make our home. it was always for you. all the memories that remain will build a place for us to stay. step a little closer to me, so close that i can't see what's going on. you're my memories when i smell your skin. i wonder if she's what you need because you could be in my life like you've been on my mind. please hold onto me like melted butter, like snow that falls from above. i like the heat of things that speech cannot confirm.

when we find the perfect water, we'll hang out on the shore.

why does everyone like to put me in these situations? fuck you all.

i just recieved some exciting but stressful news.
and, i have to go to work soon. for an hour. steal some ice creams etc etc.


i'm kind of in the middle of things again. i think it might be time for change. either i need to get out of here, or i need to sort myself out. or possibly both. but strangely i am kind of enjoying this. hopefully i can cope for another 2 months. until my extended family returns haaaaaa.
december!

yes of course i miss you and i miss you bad,

but i also felt this way when i was still with you.
this is no longer mine, there's sadness written on every corner.




i think i may be getting sick from stress.

but. on a much lighter note. i still enjoy the little things like eating noodles in the middle of the night, and smoking on the balcony, staring at the sky, listening to music. this is all on the balcony still. and butterscotch shots, which i cannot locate anymore. so its not that bad.
but i am still quite stressed.

i miss the good times. i cannot wait until december. i have a feeling i will be very happy in december. like happiest all year. time apart is just too stressful for me when there is no communication. i hate the internet. this is why i could never possibly handle being married to a business man hahaha. business trips will stress me out. i guess i should learn to be less affected by everything, but then where will i go?



so i'm sorry if i disappear for a while.

all the things i've tried to say were never easy to explain..

i was looking through photos and i came across these. and i can actually say that i was really happy that night. around that time, were some good fucking times man. i'll never forget it. best times this year. first half of this year basically. after january. i miss you jen. i miss you anant.

there were good times recently too. but few. special ones.

so i don't know what will happen.

THE FUTURE FREAKS ME OUT. i'm on fire. haha brings back old times. but yeah really, im scared but also, fuck that.

this is not a love song

i love how they looked so good together, yet had no photos together. ha. i have no faith in marriage. but things are meant to be hard i guess. the savoury moments are the juicy tough ones, otherwise where is the sweet if there is no sour? mmmm. it becomes sweeter because of the sour. you'd think that my parents would become sweeter because they are so sour but no, ha it doesn't work that way, silly me. there will never be photos of us all together, because my dad is the one who takes photos. sad.

why isn't the internet working?

i want to go out and play with my new camera but i have no time. i'm very tired of working. and i'm tired of people leaving. damn you uwcsea for giving people the urge to fuck off to uni. no one ever comes back for good. because no one is singaporean. because singaporeans arent allowed to go to that school unless they make a big deal and have a big suitcase full of cash for some bizarre reason.

and while we are on this topic, whats going on here?! i mean haha what do i know, i can't even come up with the right kind of vocabulary to put out what i'm trying to say. but they are screwing it up slowly for themselves. i dont think its going to work, the casino, all the new buildings that will cost your organs, a few arms and all your legs to live in, all the new hotels. singapore is very green, i agree, but they are plucking out all the trees for this. and planting bushes. i'm ranting and it's not making sense because its quite an effort for me to think of words to describe this haha.

but i don't get it. confuse.

"unfolds feelings you might have trashed"

Initially a ‘t- shirt publication’ formed by two lonely designers from east London, in attempt to document emotions, statements, expressions that conditions human idiosyncrasies, T-BOOK is now full apparel collection.
Perennially love-struck, their t-sare coming apart at the seams with rose-coloured storylines and mix and match words for every guy and gal who wears their heart on their sleeve.
This season sees T-BOOK ’s pages clouded by lonely hearts, pining like MISSING MACHINES. Machines, as a visual metaphor for the relentlessness of missing someone. Or rather, today’s machines such as phones and clocks and laptops, that keep love together or apart.
Cogs and nuts and bolts became beautiful pattern prints on garments, as if the clothes are the machines that unleash what the hearts want to say, very boldly, ‘I MISS U’ or ‘LOVE DON”T WEAR AWAY’. There are also cheeky ‘SO LONG’ mitten scarves and sleeves to hold your person from faraway.


i love it.
missing machines. oh my god.

i won't forget, i won't forget.

the way you said move on, move on, there's nothing changing. and while i'm waiting for something to say, how will you know if he's kind? i will wait for you, but please come soon. you've seen more than we know, hold on. in the meantime, i have nothing to say. happiness only reminds me of the people i hurt and the mistakes that i made when i was down. where are you going? i want to find love here. i knew somehow, when you looked up and over me. it means nothing to you. you could go all day and not make a sound. you make me lonely when you're here. when you're not here.

yeaah so, it kind of occured to me today that i'm slowly losing my mind. even with all the people that i know, somehow, i just don't spend enough time with them to feel like it was like most excellent savoury times. its stressing me out because i want to spend more time with everyone but i have a million things to do all the time. it's been ages since i stayed out all night with someone and just talked. ok that was a lie, i did it on tuesday with ed, and that was probably the first time we actually hung out like that, and it was weird and wonderful. which is why i'm suddenly thinking that i need to do this more often because its what we need. to save us haha corny. i don't need a boyfriend, as my mother seems to think otherwise. fill up these spaces with days.

things that have happened in the past. that have probably pushed me in this direction. today, my mother told me that when i was born, her mother was the one that took care of me when my mother couldnt handle it, which was often. and then i thought.. what if thats the reason i feel like crying every time i think about my grandmother? i miss her so much, even when i see her, because i know that i've missed out on so much with her. this weird attatchment i have to her is cos she was the one that was there for me, she was the face that i saw. and then now i hardly see her and it breaks my heart. and i also thought about why i also feel this way about my father.. even though he is here often enough. he's the most annoying person i've ever known in my entire life but i still feel like this. time feels wasted, and the future feels pushed for time. i'm not making the most of this time, when i should. i think that this is what is really bothering me, that there isn't enough time for anything and anyone. i mean, there is, but also, its never enough.

it's too much thinking to wrap myself around right now. i'm tired. there is this annoying beeping sound coming from outside and it's distracting me. i thought it was my alarm clock first, then i thought it was my phone.. but soon realised it wasnt even inside my house.

now i've lost what i was saying.

and while i'm waiting,

and in the meantime,
i have nothing to say.
for no one.

the construction sites are lovely. i want to go inside, but i'm not sure if they would let me, and i'm not sure if it is safe. for a large number of reasons.