Park Affair

Hyde Park, 2008.

How do you enjoy your time in the park? Laze around and wait until it gets late. Walk steadily past all the trees and greet all the blooming flowers. Read a book and pleasantly find yourself dozing off, gently feeling the breeze of the wind beneath the rustling of the leaves. Birds a-chirping. Dog a-licking your face...Haha. Kidding.

I had a great time while I was here in Tulsa. We didn't even have to go far out of this state to truly enjoy ourselves here. Sure everyone told us what a cowboy town it was and how dead boring things could get if you didn't have a car.

There are always parks if you go out of south east asia. Its in their bloods to celebrate trees, and maybe it is also due to the climate. So parks are a lot more enjoyable where it is cooler. Reasons aside, I believe that we both experienced what it was like to have been surrounded with strong art influence (I'm relating this to the painters and poets that we read about..not ourselves), and the means to express themselves through words and drawings.

Being in parks makes me happy. And I've always taken them for granted. The trees. The flowers and rocks. Being in parks sort of make you believe that you could actually make time freeze.

Peneman Setia

Terima kasih kerana selalu menemani saya belajar di malam hari.
Saya sayang kamu.

clean sheets.

Youth was the time when I never noticed anyone around me, and I didn't know that the boxy part of my body above my butt was called the hip.

I've always wondered if I was born without a womanly figure.

Boxy has left me eons ago. aeons.
I'd make a bad english teacher. You think?

Youth was the time when I never judged people on how they lived their lives.
I judged them on how much fun they infused in mine instead. Needy.

Passing judgement is something we do the instant we wake up now. How sad the world has become. I should have never left neverland.

Youth was the time when I checked out a library book on periods, and felt like fainting when the librarian flipped the book to the back to stamp the date.

The Artist In You

I am feeling the urgent need to get back with my inner self. I feel I am losing my touch when it comes to who I am and who I want to be.

I want to be an english teacher. Or a teacher of some sort. I love kids. I want to be socially needed, I guess.

I love art. Crafty not so much of me though.
Paiting..therapeutic. Drawing, oodling. That was when I was in love.

I want more time to read my poetry. And the poetry of God.
Poetry is an unfolding of something beautiful, and should not be rushed.

Neruda, Borges..they are all waiting for me, patiently.
I still need to fall in love with Tolstoy.

Will a sketch pad and some water color heal a broken soul?

If I had things my way..I would pack up and leave. And perhaps become a voluntary english/maths/wadever teacher in the outskirts of earth.