Friday, January 28, 2005
laughing in reverse
suicide skies hang over a face in a velvet mask the signs all said dead giveaway i hate to but i had to ask in a shaking mainline subway she was laughing in reverse as the train passed by the minarets i was sinking into earth opiate x, per somnia when the bolt of our fate slides home, we hardly recognize the sound. we are too caught up in our small hatreds and the maladroitness of our own intellectual vanities. which is why i backtrack. rewinding the steps i've taken, unwinding the distant cord... tuesday, i say goodbye to someone dearly loved. i do not cry. i write my friend an email, telling her we can go get that tattoo she's always wanted. she replies almost immediately. i can tell she is smiling. she has a beautiful smile, if only you could see it. now is the time to replace that plain barbell in my navel with some jewelled trinket i picked out. i think of my boyfriend, who likes playing with my navel. he is only mildy upset that there is something in there partially blocking the view. i grin and tell him, "no licking. not yet." it's 11:29 in the morning and i read his message one more time. i close my eyes and feel everything all over again. once loved, always loved. we will tour europe in 2007. even if it breaks my bank account. even if i have to sell a goddamn kidney. i am now cutting back on the salt. my heels click sharply on the marble floor. i am unnerved. everyday, i wear different shoes yet the sound of my heels clicking sharply on the marble floor is always the same. it's the song of my life: SSDD. same shit, different day. the cursor is blinking too quickly. i reach for my eyeglasses, the ones my friend likes to see me wear. she says it makes me look exotic and foreign. i wonder. they're just glasses, after all. i settle for a lackluster job i am good at. i prostitute my writing so i can pay the bills. there is something i want at the opposite side of the shop window. and it's just my size. i write some more. late evening, i meet up with my friends. we talk about love. there are three of us, yet only two versions of the story. i wonder which one of us has had too much to drink. i stop writing poetry on saturdays. when i do write them, they are too raw. i do not like to see myself that vulnerable on paper. and so i crumple up the words the way you crumple up an old, unused heart. i throw them away. my notebook is losing too many pages. they comment kindly that i'm losing too much weight. i say i'm just getting rid of the excess baggage. i despise heavy carry-ons. my boss from new zealand says i look good in skirts. as soon as his back is turned, i give him the finger. then i resign. i graduate. i have the idealism. i don't have the pulitzer. i know what it really means to make love. it turns out i didn't even need to buy the pretty lingerie. but i did anyway. those lacy things are like abstract paintings in my dreams now. they hang in their shiny frames on the walls of my mind. goddesses don't have hymens. at least, that's what i've been saying. i fall in love for the second time. it was touch and go for a while. they say i am pretty. too bad i didn't see it coming. dana? who's dana? pain. so much pain. i hate love. i will stab it with my favorite kitchen knife 23 times. i will use the same knife to trim the fat off the steak i'm cooking tonight. my poetry becomes too good. i write better when i am sad. i join contests and i win. it's almost too easy. they ask me to read my poems out loud. and so i do. they smile, and bob their heads and applaud like they knew what i was talking about. they have no idea. no idea. i fall in love for the first time. it doesn't work out. then i truly forget. i think i've fallen in love for the first time. the euphoria lasts three days. the relationship, three months. the greatest blah in the black blah universe. in the best of times, i even forget it happened. college. i meet the friends i will keep forever. senior year, physics exams, a harrassed freshman hands the teacher a note. the teacher frowns and calls my name. "go to the office of the head of school administration," she says. my classmates whisper. they sound like african drum beats. so i go. the head of school administration says the editorial i wrote is too controversial. she talks to me about my future. i just want to talk about that huge diamond ring sitting on her finger. high school. and i'm still wearing the uniform. top of my class all the time. this is so boring. i wish i was pretty. like dana. i am eight years old, looking at candy in the shop. he is there. he touches me when he knows he shouldn't be. i know there is something wrong about what he did and i walk away. i'm not going to tell my parents. anyway, he is gone now. i hope he is run over by a cruddy ten-wheeler on his way home. grade school. and i'm wearing the uniform. summer, the weeds are shooting up so fast. i tilt my head and tell my playmates my hair is brown, not black. and that when the sun shines on my hair from the back, the color doesn't matter anymore. a girl this young shouldn't be exercising her vanity. i am four years old, wearing white sweats. i watch as my father runs the oval. the oval is too big and i am too little. he runs so fast that he soon blends into the throng of early-morning joggers. suddenly, i cannot see him anymore and i cry. someday, i tell myself, i will run faster and i will come after you. my earliest memory is of her, putting on her makeup. i am just a child watching from under the table, where i am pretending i am a princess. she is slim and beautiful. i am just her daughter. my mother cannot go into normal labor. the doctor goes out to ask my father a question. he says yes. and i am born. "let there be light," the booming voice said. and there was. ...it's funny how you can live your life better backwards...sdrawkcab...than forwards. so funny you don't even know why you're laughing anymore. i rode north at 1:10 PM 28 kph
1:48 PM
JErm pedaled up to say... it's funny how everytime i read you i feel naked. at least today i'm not at the end of the line.
small squirrel pedaled up to say... ...gninnigeb eht dehcaer I sa sraet ni em dah uoY !!lufituaeB Beautiful!! You had me in tears as I reached the beginning...
1:49 PM
Kishore pedaled up to say... oh! oh! sorry the above comment was mine :) I made it as I was tweaking the squirrels blog and hehe it now says the squirrel made it ... hahahah I am now changed forever for I have read writing such as u'rs ...
1:52 PM
mussolini pedaled up to say... ... we have no idea? NO IDEA????? i will not tolerate this debasement of our ability to comprehend your poetry. WE were the first people to share the thrill of I AM, YOU ANXIOUS ONE with you!!! you have OFFICIALLY offended the illuminati. but since you have decided to keep us forever, then i guess we have no choice but to love you anyway. *murmurs* no idea.
2:55 PM transience pedaled up to say...
JErm >> wait...you feel naked when you read me? naked? that wasn't the effect i was hoping for, but that's pretty intriguing, considering the circumstances.
kishore >> sknaht. and i'm sure squirrel will forgive you.
mussolini >> well, get off my case, woman! i wasn't talking about you or the illuminati. i was talking about gavino and, erm, our lesbian humanities professor, erm, bonilla. they were judges! remember? remember?
hell, you never smile, bob your heads and applaud when i read my poetry. you people fall silent, then brood, then start grand intellectual conversations. i like it that way.
jeezus, i would never dare offend the beloved enlightened. it does not bear contemplating how you could even assume it was you. queen of the gray-hating scorpios, you wound me. you owe me a jelly doughnut. this little drama will end.
3:23 PM
bismuth pedaled up to say...
i did smile. and it'll be a dragonfly by the way, hovering over, admiring its reflection from an emerald green pond. it would conjure summer and the smell of freshly-cut grass, of a lone girl staring outside her window getting soaked in the colors of near-twilight, of a dying sun giving out its final radiance for the day.
of a woman who now has demons to curse and a guilt, a shame to keep. thinking that perhaps she should feel more and think less. like that spirit that breathes life into your poems. how i never thanked you enough for the poetry you shared. for the late nights and the turbulent inner weather hidden behind obligatory smiles- kept quiet and bearable by your words.
how as crowded trains pass before me and i feel the compeling need to run away as fast as they do, i remember you said, anything that makes us happy is worth a try.
and i am trying because i believe now in possibilities. i can hover over my own pond and truly see.
3:59 PM
Anonymous pedaled up to say...
can i just say, this post is absolutely brilliant.
-brutus
4:33 PM
nicole pedaled up to say...
i agree with Brutus.
This post drew me in from the first word to the last. Absolutely captivating stuff. Possibly an interesting idea for a book or collection of short stories?
Keep it up, transience - we're all coming back for more chica!
6:31 PM
claudzki pedaled up to say...
trans - you moved me with this one...
like the way you wrote something i do all the time - read my life backwards...
it's the most amazing thing - you discover things that were there from the very start but never knew at all...
hehe, also loved the part about saving for europe..
i would too, but i have no self-control :D
love the poem too :D
7:59 PM
Prat pedaled up to say...
I will not say this is a brilliant piece.
Or that I have to tell the gentlemen at Stockholm to look.
Or that you have left me speechless.
Or that your heads deserves a diamond tiara.
Or that your writing fingers kept forever warm.
Just one question. Can I add your page as a link?
11:20 PM
Deek Deekster pedaled up to say...
"pain. so much pain. i hate love. i will stab it with my favorite kitchen knife 23 times. i will use the same knife to trim the fat off the steak i'm cooking tonight."
Fantastic. Must be the season for it. I'm going link to this one pronto. Bravo! Damn I've come over all italian. Hand me the knife. Give the woman a bicycle.
1:07 AM
CAROLVS pedaled up to say...
2007?
2:05 AM
Jay pedaled up to say...
Your life has just flashed before my eyes.
Very intimate.
5:09 AM
CultureKitchen pedaled up to say...
your words feel genuine and alive. thanks for sharing…
5:14 AM
Lorena pedaled up to say...
beautiful, creative, so glad i 'next blog->' and found yours :) i read this in regards to a novel and feel it's perfect for how I feel about this post --> "the writer is swimming in a sea of beautiful emotions where I'm sure many of us would love to drown."
6:00 AM
ennui pedaled up to say...
What's so beautiful about children's bicycles is that you can back-pedal them and you won't fall off if you balance well. Adult bicycles only go forward because if you back-pedal, you unravel the chains.
10:17 AM
hera pedaled up to say...
i love how this entry cleverly takes me through a series of vivid images in slow-mo flashbacks. it indeed is amusing how we can press the rewind button of our lives and laugh at it without even having a definite reason why. but rewind is just rewind and at the end of the day, we still have no choice but to press "play", whether it has that same monotonous sound like SSDD.
there's no need to say it, but again, another beautiful entry. =)
4:18 PM
RuKsaK pedaled up to say...
Was sent here by Deek Deekster - that's great, rivetting writing - I'll be back and I've rolled yer.
Cheers
6:10 PM
small squirrel pedaled up to say...
I have read this a number of times now.. and each time a different piece resonates with me. This morning it is:
my heels click sharply on the marble floor. i am unnerved. everyday, i wear different shoes yet the sound of my heels clicking sharply on the marble floor is always the same. it's the song of my life: SSDD. same shit, different day.
wonderful imagery, and something I can relate to oh so well in a number of aspects. Once again, great writing.
(kishore's earlier comments as me still hold...hahahah)
12:41 AM
rolly pedaled up to say...
I am in awe! Excellent writing. Such powerful images this piece gave me. As a father, I am still hung over that father running away image. I swear I shall never do that.
5:00 AM
monsterspank pedaled up to say...
you made me stop breathing for a while...
then I (re)discovered a new timezone:
5am (tho' it did seem familiar to me).
although the sun was yet to reveal itself, there was
a dark glow in the sky probably only seen by
anyone looking... my entireness felt
shredded from the blend of consumption(ess), sleeplessness,
lightness... and the heaviness of all those little things
at that moment. let me read you some more. comment one
last time..it's 6am
wake up my akindred
10:34 AM
Corsarius pedaled up to say...
i think i won't be able to put into words my reaction to this unparalleled writing...it simply rendered me speechless. :D
1:57 PM
transience pedaled up to say...
wow! i've got a lot of catching up to do on this post.
thanks, friends for honoring me with your commentary. okay, so i'm shutting up and getting to work:
bismuth >> your happiness means everything to me. anything that make us smile even a bit is worth a try. and thanks for remembering the poetry i wrote. i don't recall much of them anymore. shame.
brutus >> hey, i remember you from the tagboard! so no URL for me, eh? no worries. thanks for dropping by again. and for the kind words, too.
nicole >> i really appreciate the support. so you think it's interesting enough for a compilation? that would be something to mull over. oh, and happy birthday!
claudzki >> yes, retracing steps is sometimes hard to do. but it sure does start some enthralling conversations. i'm sure you could save up for europe like the next person--just cut back on the chocolates, haha! and the verse is actually from a song. a friend suggested i listen to it, and i did and i think it's just beautiful.
prat >> five thank-yous for the first five statements. and a yes to the question. i have linked you, too.
deek >> cupid messed with the wrong lady. and my heart warms with the thought of that funk plug you made.
carolvs >> i know. it could be sooner, but my friends and i are planning to retire by then. so we're tying up the loose ends. hehe. erm, not really.
jay >> and i didn't even have a near-death experience.
culturekitchen >> you're welcome. nice seeing you again.
lorena >> that line just rolls off the tongue. i'm glad for that NEXT BLOG>> button. otherwise, we wouldn't have met.
ennui >> fantastic analogy. it sound like you really know what you're talking about. damn, you're growing up on me.
hera >> your comment warms my heart. sometimes, i do wish i could just keep on rewinding. so i can justify being a couch potato on sundays.
ruksak >> riveting? that would be you and your russian kitchen. that was a knockout, heh.
squirrel >> you and kishore are some split personality, hahaha! thanks so much for, erm, rereading the post. hope it doesn't turn out to be some SSDD for you.
rolly >> from what i've read about you, you are an excellent father. i have no worries.
monsterspank>> this one is too beautiful to stay in my comments page. love it. thank you. hope you breathed again right after, sweetie.
corsarius >> and to think this post was fueled by loss. and i'm sure you know what i mean. it was great seeing you again.
10:25 AM
Calaloola pedaled up to say...
Wow. I'm having trouble finding the words to describe the way I felt seeing your life play out in reverse like that, like ripples in a pond moving ever INwards, towards the centre... hm. It's bittersweet and sad. Maybe it's to do with the perspective the trails of our lives take on when you anchor them in birth? Or maybe it's just recognition of life's frustration. I dunno. It makes me want to write my life in reverse tho, incase I'd understand it better -- but something tells me it wouldn't be half as poetic as yours ;)
11:35 AM
MK pedaled up to say...
Very interesting perspective, one of those techniques which force us all to introspect... to see where our lives began through the lens of what we have done since then... looking back in steps.
but what is more interesting, or pertinent, would be what we do with that information... how often do we look back at our mistakes properly and vow not to commit them again, or... how often do we look at the good we've done and do it again and again.
Have we really grown from where we've come from... if you haven't changed much, haven't grown much... maybe its time to stop introspecting and make a life.
M.
6:20 PM
transience pedaled up to say...
calaloola >> you are too kind. thank you. but i'm sure you'd do a great job of retracing your steps.
m >> thank you for the wonderful insight.
11:02 AM
deryke pedaled up to say...
thanks for the link props ... swanky
11:01 AM
transience pedaled up to say...
you're very welcome.
11:26 AM
Pedal Up!
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