Alien Landscape

in between business jargon and pretentious advices, i actually manage to breathe a word or two of proper English and Malay. it is like they're deforming me into something like them. i feel like a butt. a pair of butt cheeks.

so escapes were executed. nothing grand. just flirting with thoughts of F which makes me positively flutter, hanging around with wise royalty with the cloak of poverty about my shoulders and taking horserides with Satyra in Sreth. King taught me only the poor deserved to be rich. i was with him when we saw a lady in rags stand up to a mammoth machine digger which was about to crush her makeshift house and exclaimed 'i have my own wooden chair!'. she said like it a queen.
i almost cried. and couldn't because i was afraid. i don't see them but there are so many things to be fearful of it seems.

Satyra told me she did not want to forget. i told her i wanted her to.
these days we haven't been into rough patches. mostly telling stories and riding old Mockingbird. Mockingbird must be the most beautiful mare in Sreth. it was a fine sight, watching Satyra and her. lots of times i choose to walk. i feel like i am not really part of this whole adventure. i feel like the painter. the chronicler.
sometimes its painful looking at Satyra back on that plane. what would it be like when i move on to another stage and won't be able to see her again to preserve her face and posture in Sreth? i shall have to ride Mockingbird alone and watch empty landscapes and audiences of trees who watch nothing.
Posted by NHJ 3/03/2005 09:40:00 pm

Thursday, March 03, 2005