HOLD ON TIGHT

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. ~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot Thursday, March 01, 2007 bukit timah and bare naked ladies i vaguely remember being in makeup waiting in the wings, and melissa was listening to this with me. i think i had microecons notes on me, which i would write prettily because i'm stupid when it comes to econ, or maybe it was amath. sin2xcos2x, and a hundred revisions. the night before i had probably slept late. in my dreams, i am walking in slippers down a path with leaves, the canals smell of rot and sweetness. Here we are again and we're looking at each other as if each other were to blame. You think you're so smart, but I've seen you naked and I'll probably see you naked again. Milli Vanilli told you to Blame it On The Rain but if you blame it on the rain tell me what can be gained so, if all else fails you can blame it on me. and this one, reminded me of the night just out from daph's house, my fingers slightly sore from the steel guitar strings. i was running with chengyi, she was late. she was going for a concert. i was tired, i passed king albert park on 74? 151? 61?, and there were many fluorescent lights. If you will not have me as myself, Perhaps as someone else Perhaps as you I'll be worth noticing Then even a eunuch wont resist The magic of a kiss from such as me and this one, i was with chit and xuan, we were painting a banner during orientation, i think it had a lot of shoes on it, and i'm sure we lost. we plaited the strings, for no explicable reason. i was in a paint splattered pinafore. When I was born, they looked at me and said, "What a good boy, what a smart boy, what a strong boy." And when you were born, they looked at you and said, "What a good girl, what a what a smart girl, what a pretty girl." We've got these chains that hang around our necks people want to strangle us with them before we take our first breath. Afraid of change, afraid of staying the same, when temptation calls, we just look away. I wake up scared, I wake up strange. I wake up wondering if anything in my life is ever going to change. I wake up scared, I wake up strange and everything around me stays the same. and this one, is me, with french revolution notes, sitting with chit, laughing at jemang and tp, tired, insecure. I hate to talk like this I hate to act as if there's something wrong But I can't say I have this dream at night almost every night I've been dreaming it forever It's easy to remember. i stretch out my arms, gather the strands of the evening. and this one i listened to from the river, home. it's a long route taking 61 from raffles place to clementi, past old houses, past bukit merah, holland village. i say i can barely remember raffles place, but it exists in my bones, like a terrible scar. i was always tired then. i didn't love you, you know? i'm sorry. i'm sorry to all of you. i loved because i wanted to be in a room with a different view. and when i found that view, life was livid, and surreal. i was larger than myself. how can one not love being larger than herself, writing poetry and being astounded by herself? i melted into those bodies, seeking to be recast like bronze. i am in new york now. i say this, to convince myself, i am somewhere in time. in december, the sunlight was evasive. one day, i dusted my eyes, and there was no more light. at 4am i stood outside in the wind in chicago, some drunk people walked back. i came back to new york. i undusted my eyes. now i am in my room. i suppose i have always wanted to be here. today my room sank underwater, as i undressed. it was the same blue that filled my bedroom at home, and i shuddered. i sent him a flash of light. flashes of light, i do that a lot these days. goodnight , i dreamt of you. i was laughing with you. , i woke up with the strangest sensation that i had to catch a flight today . where were you going, you asked. i had no idea , i said. that night i said, i love you ; oh, but what was the word i used? out of body near-death experiences. in my dream, i drift above myself, wake up, i say, you have been sleeping for a long time. sleeping gives you headaches, he told me. oh the life of perpetual vacillations, vacillated. posted by dawn # 5:25 PM Comments: This comment has been removed by a blog administrator. # posted by Anonymous : 2:28 PM sleeping at the wrong times gives you headaches. nothing wrong with just sleeping. :) i love sleep. # posted by Anonymous : 3:00 PM you are trying to wishb me on my own blog! this is not on with me. # posted by dawn : 3:01 PM eh. who said you could censor the part about being more careful with your quotes. # posted by Anonymous : 3:08 PM :) # posted by dawn : 5:10 PM Post a Comment << Home		[publishing] Publishers Weekly . 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HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT

And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot

Thursday, March 01, 2007

bukit timah and bare naked ladies

i vaguely remember being in makeup waiting in the wings, and melissa was listening to this with me. i think i had microecons notes on me, which i would write prettily because i'm stupid when it comes to econ, or maybe it was amath. sin2xcos2x, and a hundred revisions. the night before i had probably slept late. in my dreams, i am walking in slippers down a path with leaves, the canals smell of rot and sweetness.

Here we are again
and we're looking at each other as if each other were to blame.
You think you're so smart, but I've seen you naked
and I'll probably see you naked again.
Milli Vanilli told you to Blame it On The Rain
but if you blame it on the rain tell me
what can be gained so, if all else fails you can blame it on me.

and this one, reminded me of the night just out from daph's house, my fingers slightly sore from the steel guitar strings. i was running with chengyi, she was late. she was going for a concert. i was tired, i passed king albert park on 74? 151? 61?, and there were many fluorescent lights.

If you will not have me as myself,
Perhaps as someone else
Perhaps as you I'll be worth noticing
Then even a eunuch wont resist
The magic of a kiss from such as me

and this one, i was with chit and xuan, we were painting a banner during orientation, i think it had a lot of shoes on it, and i'm sure we lost. we plaited the strings, for no explicable reason. i was in a paint splattered pinafore.

When I was born, they looked at me and said,
"What a good boy, what a smart boy, what a strong boy."
And when you were born, they looked at you and said,
"What a good girl, what a what a smart girl, what a pretty girl."

We've got these chains that hang around our necks
people want to strangle us with them before we take our first breath.
Afraid of change, afraid of staying the same,
when temptation calls, we just look away.

I wake up scared, I wake up strange.
I wake up wondering if anything in my life is ever going to change.
I wake up scared, I wake up strange
and everything around me stays the same.

and this one, is me, with french revolution notes, sitting with chit, laughing at jemang and tp, tired, insecure.

I hate to talk like this
I hate to act as if there's something wrong
But I can't say I have this dream at night almost every night
I've been dreaming it forever
It's easy to remember.

i stretch out my arms, gather the strands of the evening.

and this one i listened to from the river, home. it's a long route taking 61 from raffles place to clementi, past old houses, past bukit merah, holland village. i say i can barely remember raffles place, but it exists in my bones, like a terrible scar. i was always tired then. i didn't love you, you know? i'm sorry. i'm sorry to all of you. i loved because i wanted to be in a room with a different view. and when i found that view, life was livid, and surreal. i was larger than myself. how can one not love being larger than herself, writing poetry and being astounded by herself? i melted into those bodies, seeking to be recast like bronze.

i am in new york now. i say this, to convince myself, i am somewhere in time. in december, the sunlight was evasive. one day, i dusted my eyes, and there was no more light. at 4am i stood outside in the wind in chicago, some drunk people walked back. i came back to new york. i undusted my eyes. now i am in my room. i suppose i have always wanted to be here. today my room sank underwater, as i undressed. it was the same blue that filled my bedroom at home, and i shuddered. i sent him a flash of light. flashes of light, i do that a lot these days. goodnight , i dreamt of you. i was laughing with you. , i woke up with the strangest sensation that i had to catch a flight today . where were you going, you asked. i had no idea , i said. that night i said, i love you ; oh, but what was the word i used? out of body near-death experiences. in my dream, i drift above myself, wake up, i say, you have been sleeping for a long time. sleeping gives you headaches, he told me. oh the life of perpetual vacillations, vacillated.

posted by dawn # 5:25 PM

Comments:

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

# posted by

Anonymous : 2:28 PM

sleeping at the wrong times gives you headaches.

nothing wrong with just sleeping. :)

i love sleep.

# posted by

Anonymous : 3:00 PM

you are trying to wishb me on my own blog!

this is not on with me.

# posted by

dawn : 3:01 PM

eh.

who said you could censor the part about being more careful with your quotes.

# posted by

Anonymous : 3:08 PM

# posted by

dawn : 5:10 PM