Alien Landscape

eyes of whirlpools

why is it that i have to seek for approval when i really don't want to? why is it that i need this so much? who has the key to my own secrets.. i wish everyone would return what isn't theirs. i wish they would start recognising.

i feel heavy. why is it so much harder to write than lie? i need to record my thoughts but i cannot even identify or even see most of them. am i even the one thinking them? is it possible for someone to do their thinking through my head? is that why i cannot see my thoughts and put them down?
have i been someone's unknowing scribe all this while?

how can there ever be such a concept called certainty? this is one of the few times i'm speaking right and most of my sentences end with a question mark.

is this why i am always so scared? of everything and nothing and anything? because the world is a rabble of uncertainty? how can i say that when everything seems so mundane? have i been missing things? slipping into great cracks in the ground and having concussions?
i recall a journey to school 2 or 3 days ago when i listened to Bright Eyes and his words cradled reality like a sleeping peaceful adult (oxymoron, no?). i forgot what he sang of but as i climbed those tiringly boring stairs, the sun flickered like a faulty lamp. everything when black then after a few moments, it was bright again. black. white. black. white. perhaps when the world stop seeing colours then it would be ok. oh i remember now.

"i don't know when but a day's gonna come
when there won't be a moon and there won't be a sun"

that's when everything went black(perhaps this is when i fell into the cracks?) then white. just when i thought someone had hastily replaced the faulty lamp with a new one, i heard a mute great roar from ahead and saw an oncoming rush of water. as blue as infinity. as dark as death. i was filled with fear. but that's the thing about reality. reality[?]. it has u rooted so firmly, something as beautiful and deadly as a mass of water rushing towards you must be the work of that villain; imagination.
so shamefully, i did not recoil or run away. i stared at the angry water blankly as it approached me with alarming speed and i blinked.
just like that it was gone. it must have spiraled and was sucked back into me. two blue whirlpools piercing into my eyes.
but the fear is still there. i am still afraid.

Bright Eyes sang some more of Californians who knew the weight of human hearts. why would i want to know that when i could already feel it? why is it heavy? what is inside of me? please can someone look into my eyes and tell me what is inside of me?

wake up F, it's time for us to fly home.
Posted by NHJ 1/13/2005 11:51:00 pm

Thursday, January 13, 2005