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Archive for the ‘Write On’ Category

Shortfall

Posted in Write On, tagged on August 17, 2009| Leave a Comment »

Me DucklingsSummer refuses to linger. Very quickly 24°C weather has turned the page and me ducklings… instead of splashing at the Pokrovsky pond, will have to make do splashing in the bath tub these last couple days or so. It stayed 11°C for a few good morning hours yesterday as Autumn rain has fallen. And I? I stayed indoors minding my wordpress and mending my Spring chook.

 

No, I lied. It was nowhere near a ‘spring’ chook. It was a Doux frozen chicken, the kind we used to get in Oman, after we discovered how fatty the Sadia chooks were. Anyway, as I was fondling her breasts and caressing her thighs gently scanning for missed hairs (stubs from feather follicles), a film of her skin fell off. Did I say I did it gently? And as I was holding her by her back, I crushed the sides of her spine and her ribs too! It was then that I realized that the chook could have been older than me!

 

And I, I am no spring bird either. I am a four-season sexy swan mother goose who just got herself a pair of Viking winter boots – yeah in the middle of summer! Looks like I am going to have to learn to fly this year, if I can’t ski or skate. Hmmm… that made me an old dog who has to learn new tricks because I live in a Siberian husky country. Woof wolf!

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Vagabond

Posted in Travel, Write On, tagged on August 15, 2009| 4 Comments »

If we can't be beggars, we'll be choosers.

Three homeless people in St. Petersburg
who were neither beggars nor choosers.

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Lucky Lucky Me

Posted in Write On, tagged on August 14, 2009| Leave a Comment »

She kissed the corners of my mouth, rocked me in her arms stroking my shoulders and held me so close to her chest, that it was hard to believe she wasn’t the one bringing me to this world. And it wasn’t until when she said, “It is good to have you, dear” that I let that little child in me cry the longing cry for a mother.

 

At half past three in the morning she left me at the door and for the first time in my life I realized how my mother never left me. It was I who left her time and time again. And she has never asked me to come home, as though she knew I would always carry her in my heart. She knows I do.

 

Mom getting her mom-entum...This other mother of mine had once asked me to come home to her when her son lost his way home to me. And this other mother of mine looked me in the teary eyes at half past three in the morning and wished me luck as she knew all I need now is just that. Luck. She knows what I am out of.

 

  

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Rodong

Posted in Write On on August 14, 2009| Leave a Comment »

Good morning orang Mentekak aka Mentakab! Owk tok koner today?

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Drize Me Cravy

Posted in Write On, tagged on August 14, 2009| Leave a Comment »

The Craving

 

The crave is back. Branded with a new spank and it drives me wild.

 

 

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Quizás Quizás Quizás

Posted in Hurt, Write On, tagged , on August 14, 2009| 2 Comments »

Perhaps… the trouble with being strong is, people assume your heart can never break. Well, it is heartbreaking to break the news, but it can. It does. And when it does, no one usually knows what to do. So your heart breaks, you break down, and that breaks others’ hearts to see. The funny thing is: no one would do anything. And the sad news is: no one can. Perhaps that is why no one does.

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Perhaps no one can break your heart unless you let them. And perhaps no one can mend your broken heart, then, until you let them. Perhaps you are not strong anymore. Perhaps strong is not what you have to be. Perhaps you just have to jump on a different streetcar named courage… on which no one looks back. And perhaps you too should try to do so, letting no one break your heart and letting no one mend it.

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Let me let go...

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Or perhaps the only letting left to do is… go.

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Miles of Smiles Away

Posted in Write On on August 10, 2009| 7 Comments »

The Rostrum

 

We were small people lucky enough to be in one of the most amazing places in the world. St. Petersburg sure changed my attitude and perspectives towards history – the learning of it, as well as the understanding of it. I now know why Russians don’t have much to smile about. I know I do.

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изоляция

Posted in Write On on August 10, 2009| 4 Comments »

Better than what Rastrelli could've designed...

 

I have definitely taken more pictures this trip around than I have ever done many many trips before. But now looking at them all, I keep going back to the very first pictures I took during the last hour train ride approaching St. Petersburg. This is my favorite. And this is specially for my Anastasia out there.

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Talk On Corners

Posted in Write On on August 5, 2009| 4 Comments »

Mom's 60 year-old chair re-upholstered early 2009. It was lime green before.

 

Especially for my Nina Bobo who requested to see this 60 year-old-re-upholstered-lime-green-in-its-former-life chair… up-close and personal. This special chair has been my nursing chair, my crying chair and now my blabbing blogging chair tucked in a corner between my living and dining areas. Thank you Nina, for the request. Thank you Mom, for the chair.

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She

Posted in Write On, tagged on August 5, 2009| 3 Comments »

Enida's private corner

Answers?
Oh yes, she does have answers for every question you ask. Just ask, she’d say. She is equipped. She is loaded. All you have to do is shoot! Yeah, you shoot. She doesn’t do the shooting. Because when she does, she would expect you to be loaded with answers. And her definition of answers is those sentences that don’t end with another question mark. Yes, she is very particular that way. So if you answer her question with another question, she takes it that you are not willing to answer. She might as well just look at herself in the mirror and ask the question to herself. Or better yet, just talk to herself. Or the best yet… not to ask or talk  in the first place. You pick, then, if you’re going to answer her question with another.

 

Angry? No, she is not angry. She is simply telling you what you don’t seem to know about her. Or perhaps she is correcting what you seem to have misperceived about the person you claim to know so well for so long. She can see that being assertive always sounds ‘angry’ to you. She’s changed, you reckoned? Of course she has. Who hasn’t? Look who’s talking now. One year has done a lot to her. Shall she say more about ten years? You remember her one-size-fits-all statement of “It’s one that eventually makes a million.” Don’t you? If you can’t remember that, I don’t think you can remember much of what she has said. And she doesn’t say hacks-a-candy of a lot.

 

A corner in a room...

Yes, she has pretty much been tucking herself at her own corner lately – which she hasn’t done since late 2002 or somewhere there. Seven years, four countries, six houses and another kid later, she thought it would be good to re-upholster Mom’s 60 year old chair for her corner and let Mom mum her there.  And for the next twelve days, Mom will be there for her.

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