Monday, November 30, 2009


Who goes there?

It is I.

What bringeth you here?

‘Tis of no concern to you, my love

Forgive me, I am but following orders

Follow your heart instead, beloved

I would if I could

I know

You must go back

Ah, but not without what I came for

What do you seek?

What you hide

It is not mine to be given at will

It is now

I cannot let you in

You will

Not now




You shall not pass

I’m already in


Friday, November 27, 2009

Letter to my 16-year-old self

Dear 16-year-old me,

How goes it?

Not too well, eh? Your O/Ls are coming up and you haven’t studied shit. Don’t bother starting now – you’re not going to remember anything; you know that. You’re one of those last-minute slackers who won’t be caught dead studying for an exam until you’re left with only three months to go Yes, you’re not going to touch your books till September; mark my words..

Don’t worry too much, though; you’re going to do just fine. The results won’t be anything spectacular; but at least they won’t make your aunts and uncles wanna disown you – that’s not going to happen for another four years (oops, have I said too much there?) Here’s a teaser: You’re getting ‘A’s for the subjects that matter (five of those) – go figure. But do take your studies a bit more seriously. I can’t tell you right now whether or not you’ll regret your current attitude towards academia and the usefulness of paper qualifications (or the lack of it). I honestly don’t know yet. But the ‘what-if-ness’ of it all is going to haunt you for some time to come. So, be warned.

Let’s talk about your nonexistent love life now. How’s that girl from Literature class you’ve been eyeing? Yeah, the really cute one. You’re going to ask her out a few months from now. Oh, yes, you are. And she’s going to tell you that she’s already seeing someone. Guess who that someone is? It’s that slimeball/douchebag/asshole who’s always sweet talking all the girls in class – including the 60-something teacher. But don’t worry; you’ll be over her in no time. And then you’ll move on to bigger and better things – literally (don’t ask). But she too is going to break your heart when you learn that she’s been in a serious relationship for several years. And guess what? Eight years later she’s still seeing that guy. You’re going to be happy for her.

We’re not done yet. Two years from now you’re going to fall for yet another girl from that same Lit. class. Don’t ask me who that is. Where’s the fun in that? But seriously, WTF, man? Three girls from the same frickin’ class? What is WRONG with you? Oh, W. T. F. stands for ‘what the fuck, by the way’. It’s… er… ‘netspeak. Never mind. You’ll learn these things soon enough. Anyway, this girl is going to confuse you a little. Not intentionally, though. She’s a complete sweetheart (despite the fact that she’ll be going out with one of your closest friends from school. Yes, yikes! I know). I’m meeting her and another old friend for lunch tomorrow. So, don’t worry. It’s all good. And, yes, you’re going to be over her too – and you’re going to remain friends. Isn’t that great?

You’re probably worried sick right now after reading this. My apologies. Don’t worry, dude. You’re not going to remain single for too long. You’ll find love in the strangest and most amazing places. Yes, plural. Just hang in there.

Be nice to your best friend. I know he seems like a dick at times, but he’s been your best friend since the first day of school and he really cares about you. A few years from now the two of you are going to have a major falling out. He’s going to stop talking to you for some time. It’s only going to be temporary but you WILL miss him a lot – even though you’ll never admit it.

That other old friend I mentioned… the one I’m meeting tomorrow together with your ex-crush… she’s going to be the reason for the fallout, through no fault of her own (you’ll be meeting her next year). She, you and your best friend are going to be really close. Really close. It’s going to be a beautiful (read cheesy) friendship that will last a long time… until another mutual friend from school starts dating her. This is going to piss your best friend off for some reason. He’s going to blame you for it and accuse you of siding with her when she gets tired of arguing with him. You’re going to get caught in the middle. To you, they’ll both be equally important, but life is never fair, and so things will naturally get ugly and that’ll be the end of that dream friendship. You’ll lose them both. But don’t feel too bad. Your best friend will come back, eventually. And you’ll mend fences with the other one, years later. Tomorrow’s meet up has aptly been titled the “Super-awkward-meet-up-2009” by her – wish me luck, by the way, I’m meeting her AND my ex-crush at the same time after a very long time. As for your best friend, he’s in Singapore now. I’m still in touch with him and we’re still good friends.

Anyway, I bet you’re feeling all dizzy and stuff now after hearing all these bizarre “predictions”. So I’m just gonna bugger off now and leave you dazed and confused – which was kinda what I had in mind when I decided to write to you. I’m masochistic like that. Sue me.

Okay….. Adios then!

Oh, wait… one piece of advice before I go: Don’t ever, I mean EVER get an internet connection. It’s going to destroy you.

Who am I kidding? We both know you’re not going to listen to me. Fuck it.


Yours truly,
25-year-old me.


Excuse the disjointed, somewhat long-ass post. Kinda got carried away and I AM supposed to be at work after all. -_-

Anyway, thanks to Ladida a.k.a. Gutterflower for the tag. :)

I hereby tag Makuluwo, Chavie, Chathura and Nefarious. Take it away, guys. :)

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Work in progress

Peter "Gabriel" Abraham picked up his pace. He had no time to lose. It was starting to get dark around him. Clouds had gathered overhead and there was a sense of gloom in the air. A cat meowed in the distance and an old homeless man rummaging through a trashcan paused to have a look at him. The man considered the stranger for a moment and went back to his business, clearly uninterested. The wind was beginning to pick up speed and Peter had to adjust his hat more than once; but he kept on walking. He had less than an hour to complete his task.

He had barely walked ten paces down the alley when Peter found himself staring at the dead-end ahead. It was lit by a single Sodium lamp and the light was casting eerie shadows on the brick walls nearby. The sun appeared to have set. Or maybe it was her, thought Peter. He could see there was a figure moving impatiently in the shadows. Lucy had arrived.

“You’re late,” spat Lucy.

“I got held up,” said Peter nervously.

Lucy stepped closer to him and as the light hit her face Peter could tell she was trying hard to suppress her anger. Brow furrowed and jaws clenched, she had an air of someone ready to kill.

The Tracker gave Peter a piercing stare. Her cold, dark eyes seemed to bore into his, as if she was trying to read his every thought. It did nothing to improve his nerves.

“Where is it?” she demanded.

“Somewhere safe.”

“Somewhere safe? Somewhere safe? I thought I told you to bring it to me!”

“Well,” said Peter, still nervous but not giving in, “it’s safer where it is right now. In any case, I couldn’t have removed it even if I wanted to. He wouldn’t have let me.”

“Then you should’ve fought for it, fool,” snapped Lucy.

“I didn’t want to.”

There was a pause. Peter could hear the distant rumbling of thunder.

“Why ever not?” she asked curtly

“I… I’m no match for him.”

“You’re pathetic,” she spat again.

“I’m sorry,” said Peter, and he meant it.

“You’re sorry? No, Gabriel, you’re not sorry. Not yet, anyway.”

Peter looked at her.

“Kneel!” she commanded.

Peter did as he was told. He didn’t know what Lucy was about to do but he hoped and prayed she would be lenient with him. She took his hat and tossed it aside unceremoniously.

Peter watched as it rolled away into a nearby dent.

Lucy put her right hand on his head. Her long, sharp nail dug into his scalp and Peter let out a whimper of pain as she began to draw a line across it. He felt her finger move in the shape of a triangle. Blood started trickling down his hair and Peter watched, horrified, as a big drop of it fell from the tip of his nose to the ground with an audible thwack. His entire body was shaking.

“Get up,” she barked.