Friday's My Day Off

Today I'm taking a day off from work!
Even though I've always had fridays off,  but being a hard-working no lifer person I have become since the graphic design life started, I usually just work through friday (and saturday, and sunday).

So, in celebration of ... realizing how important it is to stay both mentally and physically healthy!
I'm having a television/movie marathon!

The quote above was in last night's episode of "Parks and Recreation ". Though it wasn't my favorite episode out of the whole seasons, I felt really connected with the plot; since I too, tries to juggle between tasks, and over-working myself to exhausion, like Leslie.

In the episode, Leslie was caught between her campaign and her current government job. Determined to put all her effort into both activities, despite the advice of taking some time off from one and concentrate on the other, she kept on going. However, things became more and more difficult as her tasks from both jobs demand her full attentions. While everything seems to be in a chaotic mess, a friend comes along, the genuine, awesome friend that knows what is in your best interests, and that friend was, the good ol' Ron!

When he dropped the quote, it was so touching but at the same time hilarious.
I was like, uhhhh need to put this into a beautiful typeface!?


So there you have it, my friday so far.
Inspired by television sitcom!



* Typefaces I used:  "Tommaso" by Eli Horn & "Blanch" by ATIPUS.

Dreamless

How long has it been, since I last dreamed?
I couldn't remember,

Sunday morning, I sat quietly in the garden that hasn't been trimmed or pampered for two summers, and watched the autumn sunlight lit up the city, where no one was awake.
There was only birds and cats, and me,
Who wonder if it I shall ever dream again.

It bothers me, the fact that I lost the ability to dream (or remembering dreams once reality wakes me).
I took another sip of apple cinnamon juice that was made from powder, and sink myself in its warm scent.
Ah, How I miss the dreams...

where glass-made staircase suspend in the middle of the sky,
where ladybugs where giant friends that fly you across,
where bare feet chases one other playfully around the endless lavender fields,
where that special prince appears constantly, unexpectedly.
and where paper planes carry you through the gently flowing moon river,
where moon smiles and flower sings.

Even the nightmares!
where I was chased by monsters with no face,
where I had to hide from places to places to avoid the giants with smelly fur,
where hills and mountains and trees was shriveled and dark,
and where the creepiest castle stood alone in the center of a graveyard.
even those, I miss deeply.

They were what allowed me to escape into a world of my own,
seeing and exploring,
learning and experimenting,
but protected from reality.

Whether you wake up in horror, or in joy.
You knew, you went somewhere.
and they stay with you in most precious part of the heart.

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

A maple leaf slowly settled on the table beside my cup.
and I realized that the saddest part of life,
was the Childhood that never seem to be long enough.

In less than five month, I would be eighteen.
and I would enter a stage of life, where reality really hits.


I close my eyes, and thought of Peter Pan and Alice.

Disaster Never Felt So Beautiful

It was a mistake that took you here.
A bad decision that haunted you as you walk along.
There was no sign, no prophesy that led you here.
but here you are, standing in the middle of nowhere, alone.
You wanted to scream,
You wanted to shout,
You wanted to weep,
but you know that was your decision.
so you were a man about it, and tough it out.

You stood at the top of a hill where everything was colder,
and air harder to breathe in.
and when you arrive at the edge of the disaster,
you saw the city.

Lying there like a dark crematorium,
with clouds of smoke hanging above.
You thought for a second, and you look around yourself.
Serene and untouched.
Then for a second, you see the sun shinning above you for the first time.
and look at the city below you once again.

It is burning now, the city.
it is on fire.

ashes couldn't reach you, so you stood still, watching.

A disaster never felt so beautiful.
And there you are, smiling to yourself.

Hotel Chevalier

Nameless Ex: Whatever happens in the end, I don't wanna lose you as my friend.
Jack: I promise, I will never be your friend. No matter what. Ever.

N.E: If we fuck, I'm gonna feel like shit tomorrow.
Jack: That's ok with me.

N.E: I love you. I never hurt you on purpose.
Jack: I don't care.

Lolita

Was it simply a sick and insurmountable desire for something innocent?

Or was it simply faith that made me believe true love does not fixate on age?

I could never distinguish the two.

I tired,

I failed.

For days and nights

My heart lives solitarily in a maze

And there was no one, to walk with me, through this daze.

I am sick

I am a lover

She was my savior.

They view me as a villain

But how could anyone resist?

The stainless and polish skin

The joyous and heavenly laughter

The smile that mends a broken heart in this crippled society

How could anyone resist?

I adore her innocence,

But the minute my hands laid upon her,

I knew it was dead and gone.

And one day,

As I sit in my old chair, watching my Lolita escape out of my sight

My heart was also dead and gone.

But it was then, I no longer have desire for any nymphets other than her.

And it was the day, when I saw her after plenty years,

pale and polluted with other man’s child,

That I realized,

No matter what,

I loved her.

But I almost killed her.

(p.s. for anyone who has completly no idead what this is about, Its a poem inspired by the book"Lolita" by Vladimir Nabokov! IT'S ENCHANTING.)

Between the Sheets

 

Gosia Janik

Dawn was near, but she was still awake.
She was suffocating in her own restless mind.

She stares at the moon, and sank into the light.
Besiege by the cocktail dress from last night,
She kicked the lilac colored blanket away from herself,
knowing something is not right.

She cursed, and cursed, and cursed.
Finally, there came about a decision.

Slowly, she removed the dress, bottom-up. And
stripped away the laced brassiere, exposing her breasts in front of a muted night,
leaving only a pair of legs wrapped around by thin thigh-high stockings.

She took a deep breath, made sure the whole body was in the frame, and let the moon shine directly on her.

Nestled in her new found comfort, she closed her eyes,
letting the moans grew louder and louder.


No one was there to witness.
But believe it or not, magic was made happened,
For this girl is liberated out of her misery,
and could finally fall asleep peacefully between the sheets.

we chase the night

We hear the subtle drums pounding away at midnight.
It was the sound of the opening to the parade. (our parade)

The palest mice appear into the alley, mediately contrasting the light and the dark.
But he didn't care so much, for he was on to something more worthwhile.
And that was the cheese, the cheese that he'd find tonight, and treasure back to his house to gnaw on.

He look up, and wave to his dark feathered and pumpkin eyed friend. The crow.
Soaring around the antique clock on 5th block, the crow was also onto something,
She was widowed and hungry. And in the endless and obscure sky, she search for something that fulfills her heart and body.

Quietly, the owl sits still on the branch directly facing a house.
He was the greatest disguise.
Under his tranquil expression, lies a desire for preys.
The robes around him covered him quite will, making the tree and him almost inseparable.
But it was the hooting that gave him away. So he sits quietly, active and not active.

we are the darkest creatures in this town, abhorred by humans.
but we are also the animals, with behaviors adapted
by the humans.

So finally,
What we all have in common,
was that every now and then,


we chase the night.
　

Friend is a 4 letter word

I sit alone in Downtown,
watching different faces, carrying different emotions, sliding through streets.
Some with family, some with lover, and some with friends.

Slowly, I took another sip of the hot chocolate which was made fresh two hours ago,
and look idly into the lines and dots.
Thinking that any moment, I may be able to connect the dots, and be enlightened.

" Nothing is wrong, I just didn't like it too much " you said to me, sitting still in the passenger seat and turning your face away from mine. "why do you keep asking me?"

" I just felt something, you know? I mean, I'm not upset by you not liking the show, but I've been feeling something lately from you. I think we can talk about it, maybe it'd help" I said, keeping my eyes on the road and constantly checking the cars behind us.

You sighed, and said " Just drive. "

" But Georgia.. "

" JUST DRIVE! " you yelled, " What's wrong with you anyway. gosh. Stop this."


Feathered friends drew transparent lines across the sky hanging behind the artificial buildings.
The empty cup stares mockingly at me, so I put on my coat, and left the coffee shop.
It was then, when I walk pass the same store where we both used to spent hours surfing at the jewelry section at the end of the halls, that I felt the transient existence of our friendship.


Something brought us together.
United us like never before.
But that thing, that crucial thing,
was also the thing that parted us.

What do people do to a changing friendship?
Is there a way to stop the decay?
and if it is indeed stopped, how will one recover?
Was it necessary?


The sky is closing down it's blind now, and the wind blew harsh waves of coldness into the city blocks.
In this briskly autumn dawn, I long for an arm to hold on to.
But you've made the decision of moving on, choosing a different direction.
It's alright with me, just...
I hope you are wearing something warm. Because we both know the future ahead of us is a long road.
And I also hope, in this journey that I no longer can be in, you will be forever blessed.
This friendship of ours may be changed, but the definition I've had for you and I will be preserved, forever.

In this 4 letter word.
　
　

When life gives you lemon....

You make apple juice.

(Then sit back and watch the world try to figure out how you did it)

Monday Distance Love

Through the metals which enclosed millions of transferring electrons,
I could hear the rhythm of your breathing.

Gently, You soothed my soul into a mauve colored linen.
Softened, by the timbre of your voice.

I watched the rain slide down the transparent glass as I held the device close to my ear.
Monday afternoon was about to be swallow, and fallen leaves lapse through the autumn sky onto the cement street, silently, and seemingly reluctant.
It did little to effect me, for I was with you, through this device.

In this little room of mine, where lamps swept away the duskily filled environment, I hear of the sizzling sunshine in the Eastern Hemisphere and the shirts that are soaked with body sweat.
You talk of the beautiful sunshine, and I speak of the dimming autumn (here in Canada.)

I cooled down your torrid life, and you warmed up my dispirit world.
We were complements, in the opposites of the globe.

Connected, not only through technology,
but also, by heart.

Sour Apple

Did you know that we are all apples?

I didn't know.
When you forced me to look into myself,
I found that there was actually something there.
You said that was the core.
I realized that it seldom thump,
and when it did, it felt as if it was being ripped out. Apart.
You said that was jealousy
So, I am a sour apple
Green and Jealous.
The hope that I could mature into a red one,
which most preferred (You preferred.),
seems more delusional than ever.
Still hanging onto the trunk where all the red ones had fallen off from.
I , a Sour Apple,
is turning cripple.
Dying, in my own sourness.
Eager, for maturity.

Horses at Night

The vocabulary quiz today during English class was certainly.... not easy,
but thats done for now. (though I still can't believe I forgot what "Abdicate" meant)

Aside from that, I read a new short story today, called "Horses at Night" by Margaret Laurence. It was quite powerful, in a sense that the characters reflected how each of us perceive fear and reality.

Do we accept them, or do we repel away?
Do we escape reality, into our own dream?

Some words came into my head, a single line from a poem I had once heard.
I knew it referred to a lover who did not want the morning to come,
but to me it had another meaning, a different relevance.


Slowly, slowly, horses of the night ---


The night must move like this for him, slowly, all through the days and nights.
I could not know whether the land he journeyed through was inhabited by terrors,
the old monster-kings of the lake, or whether he had discovered at last
a way for himself to make the necessary dream perpetual...

Vacant Heart

The door to my bedroom is always ajar.
and when morning comes, she comes in with tenderness.

I woke up,
surrounded by the sound of air, and a wall with endless blank.

Usually, the first few steps on the concrete are cold.
It gets better though, when I'm in the bathroom.

Breakfast are ready, I made them myself.
Scanning through pages of inked paper.
I yawned, "You want Breakfast, Honey?"

....

With no reply,

I realized that, this imaginary person I am speaking to (or I thought I was ),
no longer lingers in this very house.

What lingered and what remained,
was I.




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The first drop of dew in the garden, mark the beginning of a new day.
and this vacant heart, still lives.

waiting, on some some sort of return.