Alien Landscape

journal entry: Saturday, 11/11/06 (prior to the revelation of wonderful wonderful)

there are certain things that don't get wet in the rain namely Hasini and i.
eskimos in pink.
eyes closed i breached her imaginary security and pictured her innards as it squelched and churned and sing like a choir of toads underneath a log.
her heart was a dark red and it beats like rhythm and blues.

i smiled at her then she was gone. unknowingly she disintegrated as if her body was nothing more than just a gathering of nonexistent red moths.
(she hates butterflies.)
through the flurry of liberated moths i saw him.

he sat quietly with eyes closed like mine. he had beautiful rough hands. his ears were slow-moving brown wings. it flexed and preened in a most endearing manner.

you see, he rumbled like a deity of thunder, my mother was a bird. she was the fairest owl in all the world. it was a beautiful union; the marriage of sky and earth.

and your friend there, is unstable, he added with a laugh. a beautiful twitter. like a child.
eyes still closed, i smiled at him. no. she is a flickering permanence. very very stable. she's young, is all.

my mother is a commoner, i shared with him. my father is a soldier. i am a dreamer.
the beautiful owl man grinned. i can see that he said. his teeth were pearlescent yellow. strangely though, it did not appear unhygienic. it just seemed so natural.

so what do you think of our tropical ice creature here? he queried seriously, indicating the polar bear exhibit. his ears twitched. he looked slightly peeved.
i frowned. i did not know what to say. he's just like any other Singaporean, i think.

his eyes widened and he started to say something in indignance but decided against it. in the end, he laughed. the air was heavy with his musical twitters. i was about to ask about his visit when i heard red moths murmur and collide.

i opened my eyes and there she was again. she said something along the lines of had fun sleeping? or had enough sleep? her slightly caustic manner tickled me. i laughed and said yes.

glancing over her red shoulder hoping to catch a final glimpse of the man birthed by a bird, there was only the furious whispers of rain.

Posted by NHJ 11/22/2006 07:32:00 pm

Wednesday, November 22, 2006