Saturday, February 26, 2011

And you used to laugh.

What a laugh you had, what a great magnificent happy laugh. You'd throw back your head and it'd come from somewhere deep inside you, the laugh that made me want to grin like a happy fool.

It was so sudden, the way you laughed, always a surprise.

And it would remind me of the wet earth on a rainy night, of wood nymphs singing to Mother Moon, of a thousand windbells rushing down the hills in a golden cascade.

It would remind me of things I had not even experienced, and yet it made me feel so secure... so loved. And I would envelope myself in that feeling; of love, of happiness.

Of belonging.

That is how I like to remember you. The sunlight catching the bronze in your hair, the light in your eyes burning in it's intensity- and you laughing that laugh, the one that made me grin like a happy fool.


Would you like any
Mustard with that?
Okay (oh-kay.) I'll wrap it up

For you.

I don't like her though.

I was singing Katy Perry in school today.


People looked at me like I was crazy. I looked at them as if THEY were crazy.
I don't give a shit yo.
Then I walked to the canteen and got myself some Milo. Cus I wanted to. Yeah. 

It was weird, today. I felt like I was in a dream. It was like there was some sort of invisible barrier between me and everyone else, and that the air inside was denser, heavier. And that made me feel like I was trudging through water, speaking through waves of hot treacle.

I played three sets of table tennis today. I lost them all. I don't usually win. It's weird how sports challenged I am. It was nothing out of the ordinary though.

So I just plonked a book onto my head and walked off, perfectly poised. Perfectly in balance. 

But then we had math and I was staring at the calculus problems like a moron. They were staring back. Mockingly. So I felt my brilliant Colgate smile slowly sliding off my face the way a jelly doughnut would after it went splat on someone's windscreen.

Then I felt sad. I felt like my insides were a raging tempest. So I went to the common room and hung from the back of a sofa. Then I let out a squeal. Then a scream. Then I walked back out.

I like chocolate too.

Sunday, February 6, 2011


Maryuh Lou was always doing something. Observing things. Touching them. Looking at people, just looking looking looking until her eyes went red.

Today was a day for listening. She heard everything. 

She listened to her footsteps on the bare floor. When she had no shoes on, the sound was slip slop, plod plod. When she had her slippers on, the sound was muffled, like clouds whispering to each other.

She heard faraway doors swing open, their hinges creaking like an old man’s joints. 

She listened to her baby brother sleeping, his breath softly whooshing in and out. And in. She listened to the way the way the air gushed down his airways and back out through his nostrils.

She listened to the sighs of the woman who lived upstairs, the woman who was waiting for death. 

She listened to the crickets cheeping outside, steadily, steadily, without a pause. She wondered when they went quiet. She wondered when they started. One never usually notices these things. 

She listened to the clock ticking away her life. She listened to the hands moving ahead without a pause and she could almost hear the sand dropping. 

Almost. But not quite. 

She listened to the sounds of dirty dishes being washed, plates and glasses clinking together. Spoons clattering down.

Maryuh Lou heard a lot of things. A lot of things indeed.

[The whisper of a soul as it leaves a body
The faint sound of stars singing softly to themselves
Children laughing
But then again
There are some things that just Are.]

Friday, February 4, 2011


I just had a big hunk of apple pie. With cream. Now I feel like having another one. Yum.

But no, I mustn't. I'll turn into a cow and then people will look at me and go, 'whatta guy'. And then I'll be sad.


I don't really care though.

'Ima get me s'more pie.'