twenty seventh (two)

eyes open, I turn my head
my bones have disappeared -
it is impossible to sit up

I glance around, my gaze wanders
it flits to and fro, only to finally settle
on her sleeping form

I battle against the covers,
a comforter and quilt combo seems much stronger than several men
to finally reach my hand out
and touch her face

twenty sixth

her eyes, eyeing his mouth,
mouthing little lies, he lies on the ground
grounded in this moment, momentarily heightened
"what am I to do?" asks he
he waits, waiting on a reply not given.
given the situation, situated on the streets
streets full of people, people - nameless ones who don't care
caring was something he didn't show enough
enough to make her want to stay near
nearby, a bus stops.
"stop crying" says she.

twenty fifth

An unpleasant feeling strikes his gut, somewhere below where he feels his lungs end but above his bladder. It makes for a move peculiar feeling, but he shoves it all into a little corner. Taking a step, he spreads his legs. Arms whip towards the ground, contact! Weight shifts, and his left arm tackles the burden of keeping the rest of his body off the ground. The floor rushes towards him, the cracks and the lines on the hardwood flying, waiting to embrace his face. No such luck for the wooden floor, as a shoulder slides in first. He feels his body slowly rotating. His belly is facing the sky, his front is exposed. Must twist hard is the only thought in his head. Holding his arms like he is hugging a barrel, he torques his right shoulder down and across. A million different feelings in a million different parts, but the main feelings are the pull from his twist and the ground rubbing against his elbows. The beanie he is wearing slowly loses its grip, and eventually falls, covering his eyes. Yet he continues, twisting and twisting and spinning and spinning. He feels like his legs are being pulled upwards, and then being dropped. It feels right for once.

twenty fourth

her eyes slowly travel upwards, upwards to eventually meet mine,
my eyes looking at a stray lock of hair, her hand moves to lock it behind an ear
the fan on the ceiling spins, humming a quiet story
huuh- my breath stops for a moment, a moment of quick pain
it flashes quickly, a white-hot twinge
fuuh... my breathing starts again, again my muscles relax
relaxing, my hands against my head.

twenty third

incidentally, that incident had left me
right on the untaken path, feelin a little Daft
one more time! Harder, baby, better/faster/stronger
stay in this digital love just a little bit longer

twenty second

Summer Goals:
[ ] Battle a lot, rep STL hard
[X] B-twist
[ ] Aerial
[X] Fresh moves
[ ] Make a video with phil and matt (Night in STL 2) maybe just phil for now...
[X] learn to drive
[X] Start Mark Rippetoe weights program
[ ] Capoeira in the STL
[X] Adventure with Stacey
[X] Watch FIFA World Cup
[X] Cook. A lot
[X] Buy a new laptop with high end gpu, play lots of SC2, Guildwars 2, Diablo 3, all that good stuff
[ ] Redo wardrobe

twenty first

one of my friends is allergic to msg

yooo im gonna wake up early tomorrow, to eat breakfast

at this place


so one time we were at a restaurant and he was like

hokkaido milk restaurant

if i start breaking out in hives

they make the most bomb breakfast

stab me with this needle

Twentieth

Everyday, at around 9:00 pm, my dog Whisky runs out to the balcony. As he trots over, a low growl escapes his normally smiling mouth. His lips curl up, giving him a much more intimidating look. grrrrrrrrrrruuuh. He takes a step out. There is a grille, arranged so that there are 9 squares. Whisky sticks his head through the bottom left square. Ruff ruff ruff grrrrr ruff ruff ruff. The barking is deeper, more resonant than usual.

My mom screams at Whisky. Whisky pulls his head back in, and barks a few more times for good measure. He steps daintily back into the house, and just for kicks, gives another bark. He walks back into the house and sits down. My mom comes over to me and says, "do you know why he barks at this time? Come outside".

I step outside. "Look down. Sniff the air. The people right below us smoke outside, and that's what Whisky is barking about". Indeed, I see that one floor down, on the balcony, is an ashtray, the remnants of several cigarettes lying still in a field of light fluffy grey ash. 

Whisky slinks over, looking satisfied with himself.

"Good boy."

nineteenth

"To new friends, better sex...and eye contact"

-capoeira
-Tiara
-beach partyyyyyyyyy

seventeenth

Delivering newspapers [送報紙] vs Delivering Milk [送牛奶]

Garic: Do you know what that means?
Me: nuh-uh. Not at all...
Garic: Well...how do I put this...

[dirty smile]

When you deliver milk, you have to go inside. But when you're delivering newspapers, you can just throw it outside. And just leave it there.

Me: ohhhhh *ding* OHHHHHH

sixteenth [Taxi driver edition]

Me: Hey, you gonna go to xx road?
Taxi Driver: Yeah, get in. [motions with hand]
Me: Thanks a lot
(Driver is pretty cool dude, old Chinese man with a ballin' beard, it's all wispy and shit)
Taxi Driver: Hey, don't thank me. Look at this shit...it's hard finding customers
Me: Really?
Taxi Driver: Yeah, they can tell you all this shit, but us taxi drivers...we know the truth. It gets reflected in our work...the economy is shit right now.
Me: Dayumnn.
Taxi Driver: Yeah, look at this damned street. Not a single customer. You see all those taxis with the light on? We call it Dung Loong (Lanterns). This street is full of lanterns.
[more talk about how the economy sucks and mainland Chinese are screwing us over]
Me: It must be pretty tough.
Taxi Driver: hell yeah.

fifteenth

Nick is passed out on the bed. He is eerily still. The white pillows, huge and impossibly soft-looking, frame his small baby-face wonderfully. His arms are askew, his face is slack. Standing at the foot of the bed is the imposing figure of Kenny. He looks angry, but at this point I have no idea what he's thinking. He reaches out and nudges Nick's knee.

"Hey Nick, do you want to go home and sleep?" 

Kenny's slight British accent never fails to catch me off guard. It's strange that his accent comes and goes, extremely profound in its rarity. "Nick! Don't you you want to go home so you can sleep on your own bed?"

Next to me, Danny moves. He's been silently watching the scene, his arms crossed. He fidgets a little, and shifts his weight to his other foot. I turn back to the computer sitting on the desk in front of me. I take my hand off the keyboard, and then point to Nick.

"Nick. We need to get you out of here. You need to sleep in your own bed." 

Kenny's voice grows harsher, his tone angrier. His posture is not unlike that of a irate parent, about to scold his child into a fit of tears. I get up. Walk over to Nick and slap his thigh. No reaction.

Finally, Nick stirs. He mutters to himself, something in Korean. He turns his head back and forth. I have a strong urge to draw on his face, a consequence of him being unable to stay awake for more than a few seconds at a time. I share this with Danny and Kenny, who find the idea hilarious but are unwilling to actually do the deed.

---------------

fourteenth

slow cadence, swaying back and forth

eyes locked, crooked smiles

he takes the first move; crescent kick,

blocks, expecting retaliation

the beat is everything, the music leads the way

smooth, liquid movements

a roundhouse! he dodges, a bit slow

loses the rhythm for a second,

sway, sway, back and forth

ayyy! shake hands, the next pair

cartwheels into the roda (circle)

[repeat]

thirteenth

A2

You fade / Is he on
your mind? / you say "no", then leave
him be / "I don't know"

twelfth

eleventh

Up above my right shoulder hides the moon,
it is not yet dark, but the day is unmistakably ending.
beyond my left shoulder lies the sun,
sitting quietly on the horizon, a deep shade of red.

a plane flies overhead.
"damnit! I swear, every 30 minutes a plane goes by"
a lone eagle deftly maneuvers by the pacific club.
he finds his ledge and disappears from view.

a strangely idyllic spot in the middle of all that hustle and bustle
my new favorite location, wedged between the two coasts
Kowloon on my right, Hong Kong on my left
bridging them, a vast expanse of murky harbor water

tenth

heyoo...my name is Whisky

you wanna see what life is like as a dog?

check it...it's my crib.

dope, isn't it? Check out this awesome bone toy

mm I'm actually kinda tired now...

zzz...zzz...

ninth [cloud gazing]

Cloud gazing is fun.
In Hong Kong we cloud-gaze because there are no stars,
just lots and lots of tall buildings. I can see why they're called skyscrapers.
They resemble giant needles coming out of the earth,
grown to tickle the clouds
another sign of man's dominance over nature
We have buildings that touch the sky!

So we cloud-gaze, lying there in a quiet stupor
oh look, it's a skull!
oh shit you're right..I see it
where? I don't see it
It's right there...oh wait...it changed
oh... now it looks like something else
This is the life.

eighth

papers rustle, plastic wrap crinkles, card-paper rips

fingers roam the table, in a troubled search

chairs move, shoe squeaks, air-con mumbles

fingers roll back and forth, creating a cylinder

people cough, tongue slurps, lighter clicks

fingers grip tenderly, lips tense - ready to lunge

breath flows, inhale- suuuht, exhale-huuu

colors expand, flavor thickens, music is heaven.

seventh

It is hot.


the sharp acrid smell of the wet market approaches from behind,
the calm, sweet taste of a nearby bakery floats by.
The septic aroma of a Cantonese fast food restaurant emerges,
evoking images of molded plastic seats and tacky advertising


It is hot.


The sunlight is bright, as I nimbly dodge through the crowd.
tens of thousands of signs dangle above my head,
to the side, makeshift newspaper stands loiter.
I turn my head to see the river of people I am drowning in.


It is hot.

fifth

We're in Tibet. It's really

cold, colder than I have

ever experienced. Up here, right

now, it's different. The fact

that we're in a crappy

room in a small hotel

nestled between two hills, doesn't

matter. Like the establishment we're

staying at, I too am

wedged between two soaring hills.

Am I caught between the

past and the future? Perhaps
I am the present - catching

a glimpse of what is

to come, as I close

the door. This door is 

magical - it closes to hold

in the past, and also

opens to let the present

stop by to say hello.

One provides me with warmth;

the other looks to me

for comfort. I am caught

perfectly; at the right moment,

a crossroads in my life

fourth + bonus ascii art

4       4
4       4
4       4
44444444

         4

         4

         4

From all viewpoints it was wrong - unnatural, uncanny, unheard of

Our every movement, whichever direction, watched

Until at least, the tipping point is reached, and overwhelmingly surpassed

Are you ready for this? Is anyone ready for this?

This is where we don't turn back; our necks craned towards the future

Hey...wi-

third

"third-person"

from above his shoulder,

it stood, or rather, it was.

for how long it had been there,

no one knew - in fact,

no one really knew it existed.

it stayed there indefinitely.

suspended - 

in air, in time, delicately

collecting.

What it was looking for,

was yet another mystery - another unknown that was unknown

second

getting to the root of things:




. . .



I wish I could.

first

I remember you lying next to me,
remember the blinds lying next to each other
but never really touching. between each two, a slit
Us two on a twin bed that was never meant to fit two
and perhaps the bed was telling us that we would never fit
in a space too small for me and you

a passionate lethargy; hands roam free
I get too lazy to leave the bed,
but you venture out there
I lie still, slumbering quietly
patiently waiting the return of my [           ]