ALIEN LANDSCAPE
Author : NHJ
MSN: crescent_cage@hotmail.com
email : spherickey@gmail.com
Other Blogsites
MRH
Yeoks
Airina
Iskandar
PostSecret
echoncyllan
Before Gargoyle
One Million Footnotes
Read My Poetry.
Playing:
Between the Bars (Elliott Smith Cover) by Metric
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Nina
she unwrapped her leather bound wrist solemnly. almost ceremoniously. i could guess what she was hiding but i was still taken aback.
it was an archaeological site of self inflicted lacerations. i didn't know what to say to her. to this stupid sad beautiful girl who smokes like a furnace and breathe like a dragon. her scars were like a topographical map. i wanted to touch and trace the mad tangle of tributaries that marred her wrist. in the end, with all the good-girl talk planned in my head, all i said was i'm sorry.
she shrugged and lit a cigarette. i studied her discreetly, afraid that she might see beyond my attire, beyond my reason and find her reflection staring back at her.
it was comforting just sitting with her. quietly munching on her secret pain. discussing Gaiman's allegorical characters like a couple of Goth girls with posters of Morpheus and Death plastered on our bedroom walls. nanana-ing Explosions In The Sky. snickering at passing minahs with their bewitching faces and empty heads. staring at the sad ones who walked, some calculatively, some briskly, others trudging heavily, leaving a trail of blue and a pretty stench.
it was such a sad day in a very good way.
misery loves company.
Posted by NHJ 2/25/2007 02:37:00 pm
Monday, February 19, 2007
the call of your corduroy.
that night, i was only a reflection flickering on your aviator shades.
the night was a-tremble. it was being borned again. i could hear it whimper and tug at your Gamma t-shirt. and everytime your lashes grazed against the cheap plastic of your aviator shades, a tear rended on reality's fabric til there was but a gaping maw where the distance that kept us close used to be. did you feel the stars snag against your corduroy like hangnails as you move? all i remember thinking was, i cannot see past that space bending beauty.
that night, the ashes of your cigarette snowing in firey flakes are forever branded within me. why can't i see past that space bending beauty?
you mean
nothing.
Posted by NHJ 2/19/2007 05:02:00 pm
Sunday, February 11, 2007
What You Really Think Of Your Friends Fir is your soulmate. You truly love Siti Roslinda. You consider Ct Kecyk your true friend. You know that Fir is always thinking of you. You'll remember Hasini for the rest of your life. You secretly think Rudy is creative, charming, and a bit too dramatic at times. You secretly think that Hidayat is colorful, impulsive, and a total risk taker. You secretly think that Nur Sarah is loyal and trustworthy to you. And that Nur Sarah changes lovers faster than underwear. You secretly think Hasini is shy and nonconfrontational. And that Hasini has a hidden internet romance.
Posted by NHJ 2/11/2007 08:04:00 pm
Sunday, February 04, 2007
join the bookmaggot club
you know that feeling when you finally lift your eyes from a book which you were buried in for hours and hours? when you feel it melding in you and becoming part of you? when each character stamps his and her print on you? then when you look around suddenly the world is a little bit different than before?
God, how i so love that feeling. so shoot me for being a bookmaggot. i will die smiling as my blood turn the pages red.
or maybe i should shoot myself for being so morbidly cheesy all the time.
Posted by NHJ 2/04/2007 04:09:00 pm
Thursday, February 01, 2007
that time of the eyeless zombies.
all of a sudden he lapsed into this strange mood.
vehement, gently enraged and thoughtful.
look at them! he burst out, arms flailing. i shrunk in my seat instinctively as people started to stare in curiousity and mild shock. he turned to me.
quickly gathering my thoughts about what our conversation was about, i nodded and looked.
they're not even here he whispered. it made him look crazy. still, i looked. he was right.
us people. we are ever absent in present moments. our thoughts live in either the past or the future. i looked at them intently. shells of flesh with souls stretched so thin like membranous nebulae.
what about now? where is everybody now? where are they if they are never here? never now? always then, always later. always reminiscing, always planning. these zombies with eyes so light, they disappear in the breeze. eyeless. misplaced.
a jolt of movement distracted me from my thoughts. he was standing in the middle of these misplaced people. he cleared his throat. oh no. my apprehension was confirmed when i heard his trembling tenor struggling to be heard above the train howls. i hid behind a book.
the people stared.
amused. curious. even frightened. nonetheless,
awakened.
they were all here! back from flights of fancy and ridiculous reminiscing. wide - eyed and mesmerised by this tall lanky man-boy singing his heart out, red faced and stumbling against the train's lurches. shaking my head i got up and stood beside him. they acknowledged my presence with occasional glances. i was proud to be the wordless, songless pillar that stood alongside this singing awakener.
the train slowed and stopped. he bowed and rushed out of the beeping doors, with me trailing behind. with a glance, i saw to my mild surprise these people, these eyeless zombies with misplaced membranous souls, smiling and shaking their heads, talking among themselves. strangers united in humour under the banner of the present. shaken awake by spontaneous eccentricity.
all in a day's work! he exclaimed, grinning. i've brought them back.
technically, i said, ever eager to be the villain, you just became the figure in the past which they are reminded of whenever they board the train. i don't get how your lousy singing is going to teach them how to live in the moment.
unfazed, he said you're right. then a smirk. jealous, he accused teasingly. i made a face and went on my way, his tenor voice resounding in my head.
Posted by NHJ 2/01/2007 12:38:00 pm