my mind’s wavering, dreams unweaving.
Catharsis
My favourite part of the nightly ritual of brushing my teeth is when I brush my tongue.
Suddenly.
Some people find closure in the end of every year. I celebrate the past year’s joys and embrace the sorrows in the middle of the year instead, and after flipping the open sign to the close, I find myself in an entire different story of uncertainties and dreams.
In the middle of 2011, I said, “2011, please be kind to me.”
Suddenly, a relationship that you thought would be something so beautiful and sacred started to fall apart. It was the fault of the both of us - me with my anger management & insecurity issues, him with his insensitivity and ignorance. I was struggling, I couldn’t breathe in this immense chokehold of disappointment. When I was in another country, I wanted to lessen the pain by letting him go.
Suddenly, I met someone amazing in that foreign land. It was the best time of my life, and even till today, I wished that I could turn the clocks back to the time that my lips touched his while holding a piping hot mug of hot chocolate in 7 degree weather.
Suddenly, I was in a long distance relationship. My brain was being split into sensing euphoria, sadness and stress with the inexperience of juggling a job, schoolwork and a partner with limited internet access.
Suddenly, you find your heart tugged in two different directions. The partner in the long distance relationship became uncontactable, and the one that you’ve just broken up with wanted you back.
Suddenly, your job retained you in a position that you appreciate, but when you wanted to ascend to learn something so intricate and beautiful, you were denied the opportunity. Unfairness was passed to you like a bitter pill when you see others slowly learning what you wanted to do, and you were stuck cleaning tables.
Suddenly, you felt lonely, and you realised it. You talked to the one that you’ve loved, and he breaks your heart in a million pieces when he told you that he had never ever loved you, and that you were ungrateful, and everything that you have shared were all lies, and he gave his virginity to someone else that he had met for two months and dated for only three weeks. And when he said it, he was holding your hand, hugging you. When you shook him off and walked away, he didn’t chase you.
Suddenly, your life was in an utter state of chaos.
Suddenly, you weren’t known as Naomi, Keenan MacKenzie’s girlfriend, J Kirschnick’s girlfriend, but Naomi Seow. You started to rediscover who you were, what you’ve lost, and learned how to embrace yourself.
Suddenly, you started the same job again at the same place.
Suddenly, you caught the eye of someone while doing what you love.
Suddenly, suddenly, suddenly.
“These are two of my favourite things, M, coffee and you making coffee.”
Gonna take her for a ride on a big jet plane.
the definition of love - ryan o’connell
Love is still wanting to hold someone after you climax. After the initial euphoria from the orgasm wears off, you’re replaced with a sense of calm rather than a panic. You don’t want to search for your clothes, scramble to find your keys and figure out the best way to tell them, “See ya later forever!” You’re fine with chilling out in bed with the person and maybe ordering pad thai later.
Love is unattractive. It can expose our worst traits: Jealousy, irrational fears, heated anger; the gang’s all here! While it can bring out compassion and tenderness, it can also make you behave like the ugliest version of yourself. That can be okay for a little while, but love with real longevity should be like a xanax rather than an adderall.
Love is not afraid to be schmaltzy. There’s a reason why the most popular love songs are so lyrically simple. You can drown it in metaphors all you want but love usually boils down to, “You make me so happy. I want to hold your hand. I just want u 2 be mine 4ever!” You can be a 50-year-old linguistics professor at Columbia University and still find something to relate to in a Mariah Carey ballad if you’re in love because the feelings are so universal. It’s humbling, isn’t it? No matter who you are or what your background is, love can reduce you to Mariah Carey mush.
Love is an all-consuming drug. It gives us these natural highs we’ve only read about in books or heard in songs. It’s addictive. It’s what keeps us going to bars, drinking glasses of wine, going to that stupid house party in Bushwick; it’s all for the possibility of finding love. In the wrong hands, love can be dangerous and scary. If someone lacks a healthy foundation, love can kill. All of these crimes you read about in the newspapers are usually linked to passionate love. “I did it because I loved them just…too much.”
Love is not what our parents had. In high school, you never wanted to think about your mother and father having once slept with people in the backseat of cars and feeling warm and happy. That would make it feel less special and young. It would make love have less to do with you when, EXCUSE ME, it has EVERYTHING to do with you.
Love is getting drunk with your significant other at a party and taking a cab home with your bodies intertwined. You feel safest in these moments, the most secure. Entering a social gathering with someone who loves you is the biggest security blanket. People leave the party as a parade of droopy expressions and sad cocktail dresses. But not you. “Sorry guys, I’m in love! I’m taking a car!”
Love is fucking stupid. Love is fucking smart. Love is about betraying yourself, of compromising your ideals for someone else’s approval. That’s actually the bad kind of love, but I guess it all blurs together when you’re young or when you’re old or when you don’t love yourself.
Love is your significant other telling you about their favorite album and then making a point to fall in love with it on your own. Love is wondering why your better half loves certain things. You think you can find remnants of them in their favorite films, books and songs, but you usually can’t.
Love is finding yourself feeling protective over someone else’s well-being. Love is being incensed with rage when someone or something has done your lover wrong.
Love is wanting your partner to cum. And if they can’t, just say, “That’s okay. I’m enjoying this.” It might be bullshit, but they’ll be orgasming in the next five minutes. Trust me.
Love isn’t always marriage. Marriage is spending $60,000 so everyone can know that someone loves you. You know what’s certainly not love? Debt. In some cases, love can be divorce.
Love is a back massage, a mindfuck, a hard cock, a pair of perfect breasts, of feeling unashamed about the cellulite on your body. Love is someone giving a shit about you enough to argue. Love is not passive. Love is “Don’t fucking touch me right now.” Love is “Who the FUCK were you talking to?” Love is sometimes hating yourself for a second. Love is hate. Period. Indifference is the real killer of love and the true antithesis.
When love leaves you, you should be lying on your bathroom floor with no resolve. You’re smoking cigarettes in the bathtub and crying about everything bad that’s ever happened.
Love is someone seeing the beauty in you and wanting to bask in it every day all day. Love is not guaranteed. We are not owed love. That’s why when we get it, we know how lucky we are and hold on to it for dear life.
Sehnsucht
A brief connection of synapse to synapse.
His thoughts pulled my interest into his cerebrum - he selectively bared his thoughts, values, virtues and beliefs to the clean slate of impression. Some were like colourful chalks, painting up the space with pretty broken lines that were yet to be filled as time goes… yet some of them were in murky hues that were taken into consideration but not worth mentioning.
From the depths of his world he brought me into his arms, the same ones that hugged his cream-coloured instrument as he played it for us on certain nights. And with that weighted warmth I felt him transfer bits of his soul through a sort of transient osmosis, sharing an unknown desire to feel some sort of feeble connection that might be temporarily terminated by the physical absence of each other.
Him and I, after sharing ourselves with each other, drifted off to sleep with the rhythmic sound of our heartbeats in sync.
friends
From time to time someone comes into your life, identifies with you, seeps into every fibre of your being, whose thoughts and iTunes libraries intwine with yours. They matter so much to you to the point that you thought that you could be friends forever. And when that is torn and taken away… you are left helpless, stranded and just… lost.
中心の日本人
ever since i’ve known that the origins of my name were japanese and hebrew, i rejected the hebrew meaning behind it (sweet & pleasant), and assimilated the japanese one (honest beauty) into my life even though the hebrew meaning was the one that my parents intended.
i love the japanese, their subtle way of life, their gentleness in every single posture, the poetic and lyrical nature of their language, the assurance that everything works smoothly in society (with the exception of politics, of course).
these dreams, of tiptoeing on the polished wooden parquet of my seaview, spacious white house with windows designed by a japanese architect, and wearing a white housedress, with my lover wrapping his arms around my waist, come to life as i plug in my iPod with utada hikaru’s ‘automatic’ ringing in my ears.
