lilacfugue

[lilacfugue]

Get in the waves

This side of me,

beautifully haunting and forsaken

screaming with it's mask fully let down on the internet

the deepest craters in the heart

tucked in the kingdom corners

was an arrogant, vulnerable psyche

craving public attention;

Nobody will ever know

Nobody will ever ask

because it didn't matter

but yes it did matter,

the satin blue pillows gets it more than me or anyone else;

suffering in silence and swimming in the vast and loud void of internet

I didn't know it was anxiety in those laughters

as I lay my body down on the sleeping ocean

buried was treasure troves or deep sea monsters?

"Get in the waves", she said, "get in, we'll know".

Mon, Jul 29, 2024

[lilacfugue]

Come right back, cause I've been waiting for you.

Sitting alone in a cafe nearby a forlorn state, up in the bunker hills with eyes in my sleep. Listening to Cigarettes After Sex so my ears could be quiet from the stinging sound, the same sound that resonated through my soft satin blue pillows at nights where it should've felt like intoxicated happiness in the past, but yet feeling faded, jaded and grazed after all of it; my heart sighs and begin to question myself- what was I suppose to do to come back to normal again? What even is normal again? I closed my eyes and dreamed about holding books and circling around old houses by the ocean, walking hand-in-hand with myself, and not anymore with him.

I shut my eyes like curtains to block away what felt like a tsunami that was coming towards my windows ; and made a midnight promise to myself to behave tomorrow.

[lilacfugue]

Partial amnesia 666

If I could stop reliving them I would, to blithe through a puff of amnesia was a sort of dream I sometimes wish could happen to me; the excruciating pain so vast, it was like kneeling down on a bed of nails on my knees - that was the kind of torment I felt. Sharp fangs around a bubble, was the kind of everyday I had.

One night, a surge of adrenaline shoot me sky high like gallons of liquid courage built up from 6 hours of fighting and crying, and there I did the unthinkable, 6 months after drafting that string of paragraphs so pathetic that it took away the last puff of pride inside of me. Like holding on to a bleeding punctured wound, banned. Anterograde amnesia, the inability to create new memories, yet the older ones stayed embossed,

I live & breath dysfunctionally as I graze through my life, putting up the greatest facade I could, while holding on to something precious, breaking up on the last day of 2023, scream-typing at 6am, laughing in inferno.

Hahaha.

11 April 2024

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Unravelled Lyrics

Ever once I dreamed so lyrically, 

As if only yesterday, but really it was years ago and more than 5 years at least

Very early on way before the pandemic hit us, 

The world and I seemed like a very different place. 

The afternoon I went to collect my graduation certificate, was 4 years after I left 

Just gesturing through the stairs, lifts and hallways I used to frequent so much 

left me feeling so jaded from the nostalgia, as I walk pass the fountain so uncleaned it smelled

like years old moss and pungent wetness and fish corpses.

Something about still waters still disgust me so much 

I thought to myself oh yeah, times have gone by and as much as I don’t want it to 

have some sort of effect on me,

it couldn’t help itself.

Now as I breathe again in the same place, same time zone, 

I stood and wonder 

what was it like to really appreciate things before it is gone 

what sort of sentient and how deep of a relieve if I could just learn 

to be grateful and stop complaining 

Who I am who I was and who I will become; 

Thoughts once again roll out of my brain ever so gently, 

yet met with passive aggressiveness that was manifested through 

A long time of resentment and anger 

Gripped me so hard it made me drop everything 

And started re-writing.

10 April 2024

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Good people

Those myriads of filthy tricks Played against undemocratic people Often kick in their own shoe, the narrowness of their minds so sublime and never fails to leave you wide-eyed.

23 December 2019

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Mars 2.0

She didn’t move away as like the clouds press Against the craters of the moon, even those wine-red veins, plucked a dream.

28 December 1019

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Mars

He waited at the back door, green lights shards on his eyes, overlapping those colourless irises. He lost his light at the tapping ground, busking at the subway, it was a sunny but pallid afternoon upon. His name was Mars. And he knew nobody but himself.

28 December 1019

[lilacfugue]

Tu l’aimes ou c’est ce que tu crois?

Voila, I am awake and alive. Hope is perished. The dangerous feelings of hope. It is 3:31 AM in the morning, midnight noon My toe hurts and my brain As sore as My legs are right now. The memories from the Bird Park haunt Me in the most beautiful of ways. But my mind tangle tirelessly at the thoughts of A boy.

I was walking to buy my happiness at a Place of my happiness today and all I could think of was,

“is it a heartbreak?

Because it felt like one.”

28 December 2019

[lilacfugue]

Just say it

Reading Angela Carter out loud for a good ten minutes in my room. It was 67 pages and my heart was not willing to get to the 67th: the heart was abominable and feebly it wept in Frail, silent dumbness.

I saw a picture in black and white on Instagram. It was a boy carrying a boy in his hands-

the manner smelled pungent like the marker's ink when the nose lean in- suffocating me. I need a new pen for these- the different feeling When using this pen, as if saying: “you don’t have to be so afraid anymore, because someone is in front of you- as your cloak. “

I wonder what’s gotten into my self-esteem that can’t stop crying it’s heart out for me.

“What’s the point of getting money when all that money is spent to get flower pots for flowers to die in? “

So say what you have to say now, and you will know what to say tomorrow. Even with brute or kindness- Just say it.

30 September 2020

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Birdpark

Flightless bird, proud and turquoise, gyrating and emoting under the sun like glittery, birdy hoofers.

Shoes in the swan's beaks, black was her colour, she liked shoelaces.

Blithe in the air, reek of monkey dung, sore, happy feet.

American mouths, laughing languorously feeding old fishes and cleaning the pond My friends are wholesome kind souls.

Sifted in sultry sweat, Zipper Nasa sweater was À la mode nowadays; beauty is a sacrifice.

Parrots in flight, I said "They look beautiful when they fly." We slide down the playground slides with the kids and flew to the air with our stomachs full of butterflies.

We went into the unknown, holding Kiiroitori and Tokage in our bagpacks, and laughed away at Kristoff's 80s power ballad our bellies sweet with ice cream.

30 September 2020

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Angst

He wants me to write Write about him, and us Impatient veins run ablaze in him When it comes to lines and lines to tediousness;

Wondering why Sometimes, you let your guard down, You let yourself love something of hate because of love Those abominable stains on your lips, You wipe it off, And you take another bite Of the dust, Of that last piece of cake.

When I said I don’t know what to live for anymore, When I felt the hopelessness eating and the Mere thing that keeps me alive is Him Because nothing else mattered if He still loves me

When I said those hates, With my angst ablaze in my veins, With swings so high when it fell It could hurt a ton of the body He wants me to write But he wants me to be happy

16 march 2021

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Untitled

Time carelessly flew by The days gone, the times not stopping; There was a bed and There was me and the void Deep engraved on my chest Metaphorically, there’s a melody Crooning in my ears as I lay there Sweet and nothing like the past

He was there in my ears In my eyes, my heart, the fire on my fingers as I grab and hit him Hit it and came flying love Like a school of fishes Like the ones you see in deep seas documentary on Netflix Ever so beautiful, vulnerable but untouchable Killing whoever that comes near The thing that I love so deep Not a care in the world, Just I, me, myself and him.

16 March 2021

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In the limelight

I’ve come to a revelation today, tonight exactly, at 1:15am, that only the marred, the scarred, and the sacred, deserve the limelight of it all. Rereading old entries from 2017 tore down this wall inside me, revealing this gravelled road thick with dust and forgotten emotions, leading this feeling into something more. Like Swiss alps, tall, unfathomable and ever so lonely, minted by breaths of nepotism, sultry steam and bird songs, fogged by green envy of the world.

My days were dreadful without your presence, my heart crying for help at the fatal mouth of boredom, yet it was laced with scoops of sweetness and ice-cold like mint gelato. Like sweetness that melts away but leaves a long enough sensation on your tongue. Every day around 4am to 5am, you send me digitalised postcards of the 21st century in form of "vlogs", I called them “love letters I wake up to” and you love the term; although unlike you, you try romanticising your times in the foreign land without me yet with me, has touched me with so much physical joy it seems intangible and suffocating even, as I bury myself and rot into series after series of documentaries about drug towns and Manila slums with tired, burnt out eyes.

All these seemed almost impossible, like it was going to fade away; this perfection that one breathes, someone like you, deserves books and poetries written about, yet now, you are mine, grounded yet far away, perfected yet vulnerable. If you ever went away, I hope I’d be able to tell myself to cry before it happens so I would not after it did, so that I don’t drown myself further and deeper into this lime light. To merely mutter the words “I truly love you”, need not so much courage and shame, would exist only in a parallel world.

Wednesday 10 April 2024

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Wide-eyed treasures

Something saccharine, I swear, 

could've appear behind that lucent shade of dusty, pinkish light

 Her eyes that sees things in fragments, even the rainbow,

 had gone wilder.

Things changing in these past few days

 since that delinquent novel she read.

 Eyes wide open, dilating to the mere existence of his diminutive blink.

 Dearie, please wake up, grab your sheets tighter - 'cause there will be a skyfall.

Coming to an end she kneel so gracefully on the ground, 

yet another commence, like a ball, so resplendent

Like an explicit, venerable girl in sweet rococo fashion,

 waltzing into that prodigious pastel room;

with eyes closed, lips pursed,

a droplet of that little tear and that fall of her auburn lash 

shook the temples of each and everybody like never before she bowed to her heart's content, dabbing the rose powder on her cheeks, she dances.

Friday 7 April 2017

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Soft fangs, ample void.

Stopped at the front door of the cafe today. There was a cat with a bloated tummy, its bowl ample with distinguishable smell of cat nips. The feeling of it sent bliss to my system. For once, again, I saw the humans, in mercy bath.  Walked in with my serendipity, the bell hang loose on the door jingled. The room smelled like a coffee and faint cigarette smoke. They coalesced to make a different form of halcyon. Stifling my melancholy, I admired the beauty of the cafe, and the palpable smell of roasted beans. I feel thankful for this luxury, and ordered my cup of rich chocolate and drench into a galvanized picture of chocolate slaps. The underground New York vibe room has walls pasted full of fine translucent sketches and posters of Venus and beautiful ebony haired Hedy. Lasted for an hour, I went back, sore throated and brain filled with crap quotes of today. And the frailty went for weeks, ten days, long hours, I bath in mad honey and distressed, low blood pressure ample for a faint survival. Mornings lost and gone by, drawings left undrawn, writings paused with bittersweet nothings. The burn on the curve of my neck hurt like hell, I caressed it and went out for a movie with him; and illness remain like a human chain, perilous and contagious as ever, in my head forms pictures of starving, thirsty pictures/ of me, jeopardized like never before,  I say s'il te plait, garcon. Come take my hand, I'll follow.

Being in that yellow colored room, the four walls reflected a square breath of my selfish frailty. I shook to the size of my cries, in the great big void of my life. Morning sickness and repeating nights of insomnia and bated breaths. I burrowed into my bed, crying and swelling up like a distressed balloon being blown and released, violently. I buried my nails into the heart of his palm, the memory of his debonair smile and messy hair that I fondled like how I fondle my burnt scar, so gentle. There it remain there, forever in my brain, a little too strong to handle. But I'm holding on to your soft fangs, sleepy eyes.

Tuesday 4 April 2017

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Bolus of Love

Nowadays, things have change like the weather. In the olden days, there was nothing like this. Nothing like this mellow pitter-pattering feeling that you give me. I wake up feeling more open, and have did a lot to upset and disappoint. The feeling is interminable, feeling of growing up. Sometimes I wish I have intelligence, sometimes I wish I was grant indulgence. Sweet sweet smelling rose trees that set its own shadow ablaze. How would it be possible just to pallidly sit here for the fire to come? I don't even know. I couldn't control the abilities and the artistic emotions. Today I came home, the cat greet me. Almost every day was like this, until one day it stopped coming. I feel wistful one rainy evening when I saw it curling up on a wall under a safe roof, dry from rain. I didn't even get to name it. I remember the mellow rubs, though; and the tenderest flesh on my lap. Kissing his temples, I stop collapsing in my past and see the present. Listening to him, his lips the color of pink magnolia and his eyes dance in light. I love it, I love how it is tragically romantic, and then I swallow, that bolus of love into my system; once again awake from the fugue.

Monday 20 March 2017

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Luna Party

The diminutive light is giving chills to my skin. It feels fine. Painted my nails a shade of thick lilac grey, the evening pours its light and on its way. I fondle the fake petals of my hydrangeas, it delights me. Drowsing off to my quaint dreams, I walk out the grasping-feeling room, while chewing on apple candies.

Out to promenading garden, my hands were interlacing with yours. The women with flat hair and oversized sweater came out of nowhere, telling us the moon will be with us tonight so prepare your lunacy for a luna party.

Joining the dance was you and I, wearing hearts on our shoulders.You gave me a stalk of orchids that look like ladies. I held it in and stained your cheek with a kiss. And that night we dance away in the luna party, 

Sunday 19 March 2017