the sun during winter is inside his body, concealed against the boxes with his heart and entrails. he’s the reason why there’s cold, he vomits snow. he’s face is iced, hair of wintry pines and legs shackled together of frosty wind. soon the spring will come, and he’ll trade the spring’s sun to the sun inside him. but that won’t happen because he loves the cold.
i watch as you take a glass of water and drink it. your eyes closes as you gulp, and the gulps you have in your throat is as big as a ball of yarn as it slowly moves downward and disappears out of sight. you stop half way, and open your eyes and you see me, i meant nothing wrong, i just want to watch you. and you take the lips of the glass away on your lips and put it on the table beside you. and you said, “what?” and i said, “nothing”, and i walked away, pushed the door, leaving it ajar and stand outside the shop. i watch you as you carry the glass of water again, you don’t drink it, instead you pour it onto your chest, making your shirt wet.
"i want my money back"
"no i cant do that, kid"
i know, he just can’t do that. it’s my fault. i’m a gullible fucker. i fuck things up, i do fuck up decisions, i am nothing but that soil carried by the wind as it hurts someone’s eye. i hurt my own eye that time. i can’t blame someone for doing their thing, it’s me who did what i want to do and fucked it all up. i wasted my money. i think what happened is a karma, my deeds in the past came to life in a form of human as it offered me that thing. fuck me, fuck my life. i hate myself right now. i was happy until that happened, it happened too fast, happiness is just an illusion. i thought i had it. i thought i am happy. but i am not. maybe i am not meant to be happy.
death is just there, it’s constant.
it’s just waiting and hiding,
and once it will take over you,
no one knows what’s next.
if i were a lady
05. summer will soon take over, i’m summer, the one who will push you into the oven and make you feel hot, the one who will run with you in the heat of summer sun in the beach and in the land where wearing a fur is not an option. we’ll camp in the dessert, in western regions, we’ll make friends with the cactus and scorpions as we might know how they all survive. our water will be the lava, chocolate chips are magma. you won’t get cold, i promise.
february 28. i was waiting for my cheese sandwich to be delivered as i sit with paul face to face in the table with teal metal bench-like chairs, he’s eating noodles in a bowl with three dumplings atop and he forks it one by one as he took it into his mouth not minding the noodle strands with mixed of vegetables and soy sauce, i can tell it’s salty since the color of the noodle strands are not that yellow, like the yellow of it was soiled, and i can see iodized salt sprinkled above it. and he passed, daniel passed, passing in the store that sells fried chicken, passing in the store that sells convenient meals. and my eyes widened, i wrote about him last night, and here he goes, i saw him, it’s magic, it’s like i have this super power that what i write comes true, and daniel was there, passing in front of me in a black jacket, his torso was covered, his head was hooded, i can tell it’s him with his beard and the way his eyes see things, and his pair of eyebags. i saw daniel earlier and it’s a good feeling.
daniel. the d in your name reminds me of the dolphin concealed in your daddy-size underpants. i saw you first sitting on a rolling chair playing diablo 3, your hands flickering like newly hatched spiders crawling towards a rock for shade. youre with someone, i don’t know his name but i remember him, my mind is good at remembering things, that guy with a geeky glasses, a straight cut hair, with pimples like science campers gathering in a field of your cheek as the night goes deeper and the bonfire’s flame is dancing. i couldn’t care less about him, but it was love when i saw you, i saw your hands, and i examine your palms as the lines on it zigzags, crossing each other. i love your hands, and your d, one thing people don’t know about me is that i have x-ray vision, not with my eyes but with my mind, i saw people and i imagine them naked and a lot of times i consider myself correct. i imagine you naked, i imagine you in a shower room as curtains with daffodils pattern is covering you, giving me a silhouette of what i really should see. i imagine you in my bed as you eat strawberries and pour honey on your chest and dip the strawberries onto the flood of golden syrup. i imagine you and me, your hand holding my hand as we two dream and imagine and see things.