Alien Landscape

all of which keeps me sane.

my mother told me to quell my mass tea-drinking habits.

but man, i love tea too much.

it takes me away to the Landscape where i sit with my two reigning mind people as i indulge in my egotistical fantasies.

tea is the colour of the river i splashed in with my brother back in Pontian when we were younger.

tea keeps me from falling unconscious as i sit slaving at this desk, caught between cursing the things i have to do and being thankful for having to be around wildlife.

tea is the warmth that eradicates the spread of cold guilt.

tea is a memory of my late grandmother and a reminder of the sad one i have now.

tea is the embrace of an understanding, kind friend i never can be or never will have.

under stress of the pressure of writing and overworking, it failed to disturb me like i expected it would, when i got to bed with tousled hair and the faint smell of urine hanging about me. i may even have smiled in my sleep. perhaps content at the dismissal of responsibilities and succumbing to a mental-patient composure of tense shoulders, wide eyes and a softly stinking smell.

and so i dreamt of all my favourite things. Sylvia Plath's weathered journal, Ksasi the camera, Susan Lee's email, Dita the Red Fish, Firdaus' imperfections, Jenni's and my dusty Dr Martens mary janes walking identical, my sturdy orange pencil and tea. most of all, tea. cups and mugs of translucent orange tea. all kinds.

i woke up.

it is the same day all over again.

looking ahead, i saw rows upon rows of cloned todays.

Posted by NHJ 2/06/2006 12:07:00 pm

Monday, February 06, 2006