drabbles..

He woke up with a start, and cursed when he saw that dawn has passed. The sun was beginning to rise, leaving orange strips of sky revealed through the open window of his room, overlooking the vast expanse of the South China Sea. He was late.

Stumbling out of bed, he pulled on a fresh pair of jeans as he made his way to the toilet to wash up. Merely seconds later, he exited with drops of water dripping at the end of his overgrown bangs, mouth smelling of colgate.

He scanned his messy room for his Nikon dslr, but it was in vain. The floors were strewn with photographs and a line hung across the room, where dozens of self developed pictures hung. His laptop lay open on the study table, and about half a dozen electrical gadgets were scattered all over the place.

The pictures were almost identical, most of them taken at dawn, with the sun rising across the sea’s horizon. And within all the pictures was a silhouette of a girl, with long legs, hair up in a ponytail, jogging barefooted along the shores of the beach and nothing more. The images of her were all over the room, from the photographs to the wall paper of his laptop. Ironically though, he had no idea who she was or how she looked like. The photos were only a shadow of his mystery girl.

He made his way downstairs towards the kitchen counter and smiled. His Nikon was there, next to a mug of steaming coffee. He made a mental note to thank his mother later, as he gulped down the coffee and rushed through the backyard, opening to the beach.

The path to the beach was a bit tricky. There was a tiny forest of shrubs he had to pass before he could reach the shore. But the cooling shades of the trees made the whole journey looked magical, especially with rays of sunshine peeking through the leaves, playing a puppet show of shadows on the ground.

He didn’t have his hopes high. He was very late, that he knew. The sun had fully risen, casting majestic gold rays on the beach. Heaving a sigh of frustration, he tried diverting his disappointment by capturing the alluring morning panorama instead. Moving the lenses along the beach to find the right angle, he stopped short when he saw the familiar silhouette, sitting on the beach. Long legs stretched outwards, palms resting backwards as she gazed towards the sea. The angle was perfect.

Click. Click. Click.

And she turned around at the sound of his shutters, long black hair flowing in a cascade of ebony waves. He saw her almond shaped eyes widen in mild surprise, as she blinked those heavy black lashes of hers in utter amazement. He felt his camera slip from his grasp when she suddenly smiled, dimples forming on both her cheeks.

“You are late.”

이별

It’s an alien feeling for her. And she couldn’t put a finger on how she felt. She couldn’t define her feelings. Or rather, her pride wouldn’t let her admit to the pain. So her sub consciousness acts like a battalion of army, protecting the sanity or the mind, keeping the pieces of her heart together.

Her subconscious shield is also the morphine, numbing her senses, rendering it dull. That is why there is no pain. There are no tears, there is no sadness. And yet her heart sags with a dull sense of emptiness.

Amazed at her own defense mechanism, she fell in love with songs of heartbreak and melancholy. Because the pain from the lyrics and the dripping grief from the music reminds her how human she is, although it is an emotion she has been so long deprived of, she is still capable of comprehending the depth of it.

So that is why, one morning on the way to class, earphones plugged and her playlist on shuffle, she started remembering. The music was merely beats to her ear. Besides the chord and melody, there was nothing else to it. The lyrics were drowned by the memories.

It was something similar to an oneiroid, exactly like the professor explained in Psychiatry class. The memories were arranged chronologically, as if by snapshots, one by one replaying in her mind. Between those flashes of memories, the pitch black darkness of Moscow Metro reminded her what reality was in comparison to the comfort of her thoughts.

It wasn’t comfort.

She wasn’t comforted by the thoughts and the memories of the times they spent together.

She didn’t feel regret. 

But there was a trace of resentment hiding somewhere behind the heavy drapes aligning her consciousness.

She just wondered why they kept coming back to her, these flashes of precious moments. It’s not something she wants to forget, but it’s also something she wants to see being projected in her mind. Not now. She wants it locked down inside, and then, somewhat later in life, she would want to caress them back in fond remembrance of her youth.

As she pondered on these thoughts alone with the accompaniment of Daniel Beddingfield’s If You’re Not the One, sitting crossed legged alone in the orange lit room, she thought to herself;

So this is how my heart breaks.

Memories are like colourful balloons.
But if these were my memories, I'd want to pop them one by one.
So that only the burst remnants remain.
Then I'd pick them up and lock them away.

That girl.

She was not one to drown in a crowd of people. He smiled in adoration as he spotted her distinctively among the swarm of people; in contrast to the average Asian stature, she towers above the rest. She was breathtakingly gorgeous, as she always is. Those long legs were well complimented by a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, and the black studded heels accentuated her height. Her steps were arranged in a graceful sequel of motion, causing the trimmings of the pale yellow printed dress to ruffle delicately with every step she took.

His heart swelled with pride at the sideway glances and second looks she get from the male population as she made her way across the marble covered floor of KLIA. It didn’t bother him as much as it did before. He became accustomed to it. Even expectant of it now.

Take a good look, guys. That’s my girl.

Their gazes met halfway in between, and at the sight of him, she squealed in that lovely manner she always did, and ran up to him, throwing her arms around his neck in a much awaited hug.

I miss you, Boo.

I miss you too.

Walking hand in hand was one of the pleasures of life for him. Fingers interlocked, hands swinging lightly to their idle steps.

She held up the keys to the red Audi in a half expectant manner. One look at those dilated brown pupils, and he could smell the urge inside of her to drive. Driving was her ecstasy. And he wasn’t about to deprive her of it. Not if he can help it.

He let out a small laugh as he shook his head lightly, making his way to the passenger seat instead. With that, she flashed him a smile, revealing a dimpled cheek that made giving up the wheels so much more worth it.

He glanced at the sight of her in the driver’s seat as the red Audi sped at 180km/hr across the highway. The white rimmed shades balanced on her nose, lips slightly curved in a contented smile and fingers tapping lightly to the beat of Black Eyed Peas blaring from the speakers. Music is her life. And he found his head bobbing to the beat, because being with her made everything addictive.

Spotting the Nikon dslr back on the backseat of the car, he reached out for it to take a look. The pictures flashing on the screen was breathtakingly beautiful. She has improved so much since she first started the hobby, which was only a few months ago. That is just who she is. Once she puts her mind into doing something, there’s nothing or no one that can stop her. She strives only for the best and thinks only of improvement. Sometimes it worries him, that she’d push herself over her limits, but to that she responded that The sky is my limit. And so he let her fly, and indeed she soared high.

The apartment was filled with a delicious aroma of freshly baked pastries as he made his way out of the shower. Exiting their shared bedroom, he made his way towards the kitchen, to the view of her back, hair let down in a cascade of ebony waves, fussing over something in the oven. She let out a triumphant cheer as she pulled out the Pyrex bowl and brought it over to the counter where he was waiting with anticipation. She couldn’t really cook, but she made up to it by baking, which is something she is excellent at. He didn’t know how it actually started, this particular hobby of hers, but all he remembered was coming home to a plate of freshly baked pastries that renders him speechless.

Her eyes sparkled as she spooned out a piece of the apple pie onto a plate and pushed it towards him. By the time he was tasting it, she was already anxious, chewing on the edges of her lips and she awaited his judgment. And of course, she never disappoints. Never.

The movement of time was a subjective matter. But he found himself wondering why time flew when he was with her. It seems that it was seconds ago that he had just arrived from Moscow, but now, he found himself on the queen sized oak-wood bed, underneath the sheets of satin white, waiting for sleep to descend. She looked so serene sleeping. A small snore escaped her lips as she scooted closer to him. He smiled tenderly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. All that matters now, is at the end of the day, she is lying like this, next to him, and he wouldn't ask for anything more.

Nothing is perfect. 

But being with her makes everything complete.

What I do when I'm alone

Notice the mug.
I won't love you any less, baby!
Banana milo fuze milkshake one lazy morning.
The rinak ran out of Harry's 7 wheats bread, I couldn't
find anything else to eat! TT.TT

At the moment, he's testing my loyalty to Chun!

  

I pave my own path.
I follow no one's footsteps.

I love the hazelnut latte.
I love Starbucks.
I love going to Starbucks alone.
=)
I'm not a loner, I just need time alone from time to time.
That doesn't make me pathetic.

 

I love mornings.
The sun and snow make me smile =)

Home made donuts completes my day!

Spot me!?

I shop before noon.
1. There are less people.
2. You don't have to line up for the fitting rooms.
3. The morning sun is free vitamin D!
And I do, I do, I do love Manezh!
That wasn't the case 6 years ago though.
=P