The figure in the sky of the clouds has wings

想你 14

昨晚 我独自到海边,
坐在我们曾经 一起坐过的石椅上。
石椅有一点湿湿的。。。
微风让从树上的雨水 滴落到我的肩膀。。。

眼前的海好黑暗。。。
海里有鱼儿在游着吗？
我想 ，要不是月光，
我也看不见 海的浪漫。

Father and mother and television

My father comes home and reigns as his television king.

My mother comes home and complains the volume is too loud.

She takes the remote control, turns down the volume, switches channel, and turns up the volume.
Some minutes later,
My father takes the remote control, turns down the volume, switches channel, and turns up the volume.
Some minutes later,
My mother takes the remote control again, turns down the volume, switches channel, and turns up the volume.
Some minutes later...

This will carry on until one of them falls asleep from the fatigue.
The other, usually my father, will reign as the monarch until he/she too falls asleep in front of the tv, reluctant to relinquish his/her kingship.

Converse

Where are you going?
I want coffee.
At this time (8.41pm) you still want to drink coffee?
(silence)
You don't want to sleep tonight?
I need to work.
How about coke? I bought cola?
I want coffee.

Where have you been hiding?

“Where have you been?” He asked her with begetting intent.

“No where in particular,” she replied, embarrassing him with how apparent he was to her. This was hard for her to bear, so she said,

“I’ve been hiding.”

“Hiding? Where have you been hiding?” He asked, this time, with more care.

“Nowhere that you couldn’t have found,” she calmly retorted, “if you had tried to find. What about yourself? Where have you been?”

Coffee and butter cookies

On Sunday, she made him a cup of instant “three-in-one” coffee, which she had bought especially for him since she did not have the habit to drink coffee herself. He personally did not mind cheap coffee like these, except that she tended to add too much water so that it tasted a little like the drain. She knew that he hated that. He had mentioned it to her several times before. Yet, she would do it again and again, on purpose. He would think that maybe she did it to revenge for a reason he was unaware of. She did not know why she wanted to do it on purpose. He guessed she did it just to get on his nerves, perhaps. She knew that she did it on purpose, though.

He brought her a packet of butter cookies that contained twelve pieces of cookies. She never quite did particularly like butter cookies but did not let him know. He was trying to explain to her the concept of eternity. She refuses to imagine how two lines may be converging for eternity yet never ever meet.

She could not understand or accept the concept of the idea. She could not even forgive the absurdity of the idea enough to ignore it, or to simply forget it. Perhaps, to her, the idea was vulgar and it was not that she could not, but rather, she would not allow it to pass and therefore was thoroughly irritated.

He, on the other hand, had always enjoyed speaking to her if not for the fact that she always tried to contain him and his ideas. It was in his preference to enjoy flicking away people’s assumptions about the world that were taken for granted, much like how one would flick away used toothpicks, but she would never allow him to do so with her. This sustained his interests, because it annoyed him tremendously.

“If your hair keeps growing white for all eternity, how can it never ever be completely white? Can you imagine that?” She said, attempting to present a counter-example which she thought would show that the logic is impossible, but only to show how she failed to understand.

He sighed loudly and hung his head by the neck, shaking it from side to side. He was exasperated. He took his thoughts away from the conversation for a moment as he watched a drop of coffee crawl down the side of its mug.

“If my hair grows white, and I’d still have you by my side, I won’t care if for all eternity, I’d have to drink diluted coffee.”

Upon hearing his surrender, she too abandoned her foolish indignation and they finally kissed.

Ooopera

I'm glad I did not dream of you trying to sing some german opera, or else I'd be sure to give you a slap in the morning when I wake up next to you.

Not because you'd have sounded horribly offensive,
but only because it'd be funny as hell.

---
I'm glad we did not eat ice-cream together during lunch today, when it was sunny hot and perfect to eat ice-cream together.

Not because it'd have tasted any less sweeter,
but only because I'd have missed you a little lesser.

Father and Television

Maybe my father is going deaf, and that is why he turns up the volume of the television until it annoys everybody else. But then again, he only turns up the volume when he watches television alone. And then, when he watches tv by himself, for some reason beyond my comprehension, he will like to watch foreign television channels showing singing and dancing or repeated news in foreign languages. As far as I know, my father does not understand Japanese, German, French, Tamil, Bengali, and whatever else it is that they speak in India. He seems to understand Bahasa Malayu, so I can just partition away the annoyance in my head in attribution to that he understands something I don't.

Maybe he is a secret spy. Secret agent man.
Maybe he can fly. Or Whatever.

Maybe he's trying to extend his influence in the house, by extending the reach of the television's audio amplifier, by extending his finger on the remote control. The remote control nests under his large hand. The power may be too tempting for him to behold. The tap, tap, tap of his fingers...

Maybe he's trying to drown out his own voice because if I go and sit next to him when he's watching tv, I'll find him mumbling all these things that I cannot comprehend and cannot, for the life of me, possibly concentrate on, perhaps with what's going on the tv, and so on.

Maybe because when he's watching with anyone else, someone will turn down the volume, or switch channels.

Maybe he's an alien, and I'm really the child of an alien, and he can tune into all the things that he cannot understand and watch them like how tv show aliens watch humans on their UFO's cctv.

Or maybe he's trying to set up an audio force field kinda like, defensive shield, thing to keep us out of his personal space, so that he can privately call his mistress or his real kid, because I'm an imposter who forgot that I'm actually pretending to be his daughter! Maybe I'm the alien! Maybe he's trying to kill me by bursting my eardrums, or make me die of bloodloss from the bleeding of my scalp as I finally tear out my hair in exasperated insanity!

Maybe he's just trying to be funny. Or maybe he's not even trying.

The weather forecast and green poncho

The weather forecast read as "windy" so she went out tonight and stood still in the middle of the field on top of a little hill. She wore a dark green rain poncho she bought especially for the occasion. She also wore a gentle blush on her cheek from the beer she drank to get a little sillier.

She stood still with her arms out-stretched and her heart a little bit cold. Perhaps that was why the wind did not take her away, or even lift her off the ground at all. However, she attributed it to the jeans she wore.

"Jeans must be too heavy or too boring for the wind to take me," she said aloud to herself.

She finally gave up when it began to rain and only reached home when it began to pour.

8 June 2006 Rainbows