..... euphoric dances ... curtsy
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May 22, 2005
come prancing i look away. the denouement will never come to close... the effervescent thought of coming to closeness with the imago of past love departed. come away oh child of fleeting madness!!! for you were never once of this earth... as this bleeding heart rekindles the ember of desertation, lofty ideals rendezvous with harsh reality. i am. flaneuse. ronin.
Posted at 05:45 pm by june_gurl
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kitty cat nozzles on, licks her face...
moonlit musings languid
then everything becomes proactive...
no longer chooses to be alone... no longer curbed in the space she calls her own.
for a time being she's always found solace in solitude, forever in conclusion that this is...was...her nascent state of being. the imago of the true self.
ludicrous, everything becomes ludicrous. her comfort zone was that of a dull somber, lamentable. she sees much happiness in such melancholy. taxing, forever taxing. all along she perceived such gleeful existence could only be obscure. happiness is but a procurement of the borrowed thought of belonging, a certain sense of propriety. she had never wanted to belong to anyone, not even be bound by events. in truth she was in bondage, in the confines of her make-believe world...that she is free.
i have perpetually argued on the dialectics of binary opposites (ha ha, how redundant). she would not even yield to form. and her recluse to such wretched compoundings, it is a mold on it's own. lest she would come to realize, that my curtsy is of fancy retorts as my purpose is for her self-preservation. how she loves my gait. i look into her eyes, i lick her face. i cuddle. i want her to live forever, you see.
she strokes. she's thankful of her loyal confidante. she smiles. she's happy.
dreary dream come into opening. my lady how can one be free when one has not yet acknowledge one's existence tangible? i've told her time and again, one cannot wallow away in mere abstraction.
i love her for all that she is. insanely sensible. she has so much spunk in her. i like her ass (she's always told me i'm such a perv) but i especially love her brain. she tells me i'm a jackass then she gives me a kiss.
the phone rings. familiar voice of the being to which she's bequeathed her heart.
vacillating on the thought of happiness. i continually seek for such bleak a climate of an existence. now, i choose to be happy.
my felicity is he... as i have found resolve on the conundrum of my existence.
i come into understanding, happiness is sadness unmasked.
Posted at 04:59 pm by june_gurl
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May 15, 2005
somehow in the middle part of writing this, something happened... i can't remember. sigh. :p
when word could no longer convey the meaning, the flow of thought, one is left gropping in the dark. and pictures are never enough to depict such tumultuous of an event, and if dance or the inception of a playwright, prolonged proses, dramatic monologue, a song... they would all fall short of defining the moment.... then how can one let the pain be known, how can one share such glee... (thought cut)
Posted at 02:00 am by june_gurl
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Feb 5, 2005
i kissed her. lips subtle and tender... its sides curve languidly, so inviting. her tongue carresses the inside of my mouth with such ecstasic motion, intoxicating. i take hold of her inside. i press against her. surface tension, precise. produces enough friction, enough heat for the night. i wallow away in her amorous scent. i curb like a child, fetal position. her touch invigorating, gliding motion of her palm, her fingers against my skin, my body. torso scathed with wounds of many a number laiden battles. feet calloused by such heavy tread. walk away from loneliness, walk away from pain... away from desertation... i come to her. she nurtures my aching core, i nestle in her presence. she is gaia embodied. i am like her yet so very different... withered away i go. it is she that has conquered my all. she is my alter-ego. she is my reflection. we are one and the same... coming from the that source, same opening. i enamour her through cross-gendered verse.
Posted at 06:46 pm by june_gurl
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Jan 14, 2005
free space in that nano-second.
laboured breathing, white noise.
unabashed and wanted
reciprocity is played
of consented superiority and subordination.
and in that moment
the fine line of role playing blurs out.
the bell shrieks a deafening ring.
we had made love without contact.
bid adieu and curtsy.
a smile in exchange of a nod.
tomorrow again
same time, as the coffee tables become filled
with patrons rushing in.
tryst of perfect strangers... that have become familiar.
make believe
glistening, refraction of the light.
imaginary tears trickle
down her cheek.
her calloused heart
throbs languidly.
dusk comes as an ephipany.
cold air drifts across the room.
she pricks her palm, numb.
tries to remember, forget on forgetting.
knows the pain to every detail,
nothing comes
for her to shed tears.
gazes to the moonless sky.
lamentations are but make believe.
Posted at 11:55 am by june_gurl
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Oct 6, 2004
it is theorized that time moves in concentric circle... and as logic will follow, that circle will inevitably have a center. in that center, as physicist have hypothesized... time stops. as Rightman has harped on the premise of Einstein, only a few bequeath such passage to this sundry. a realm in full flux of momentum nothing more. in this geo-spatial unconfined compounds, the body is relaxed. the heart beats slower than normal... lull time over death, over aging... over all that is finite. and only they, lovers and parents with their children, nestle in this paradisiacal plane.
as one hastens the passage into the exclusive sundry, one will risk the self... as this will be taxing to both the body and the mind. the physical body can only take so much as the the ephemeral thought comes roaming into frontiers unchartered.
she was a ronin of both worlds... of the bounded dungeons of reality clamoring and the utopic center of time. with such an odyssey... she was taunting her demise. already scribbling at the edges, the epilogue of her life book, her conclusion lurking at her back each and everytime she transcends the two realms.
she was far too aware of the quickening of her last dance... her curtsy. everytime she deliberately enters, comes into correspondence with a beau, she falls in love. travelling to the center of time. and in that shared moment that she has with her current beloved, she curbs into her pacifist sundry.
as the the nearing parting dawns... little does she know that her perceived heartbreak as not merely the aching of her heart but her whole... her totality. she has crossed the two words, time and again. i have told her, implored my thoughts... as i have reinforced to her, the narrative of her life story... nay, she is not 'in-love' merely in-love with the "idea" of falling in-love. she gives me the cold shoulder.
days will progress, i will see her again with that enamoured look on her face... it's as if she has not become affected by the passing of time (she has just come from the center) as she crosses the two worlds. as she disengages from one menager so shall she enter another... falling... toss and tumble... en flight.... forever she will be a ronin, never having her own niche to fill... i touch her reflection basked by such intense energy (they say it is amore)... then i become invigorated... infectious, a given. rebirth... smile back at my reflection.
Posted at 11:07 am by june_gurl
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Sep 22, 2004
once i wrote...
12 april 2004
12:33 a.m.
my frigid breath is the salutation for such a humid morning. the rain pours languidly, and they lay fast asleep in their beds, tossing, turning. a somnambulist chats and frolicks... then he goes back to sleep, he is still asleep. the air remains still, like death of the eagle... motionless... in flight no more. i drive away a bug, it bites me, a tick... shove it off afterwhich. i give out a sigh... show and not tell. it is the golden rule in literature. use your senses, put out a depiction. rules... even in literature. even in how i so convey my thoughts, even in confessions, even in death. rules. the paper is comforting. it is not an a-list paper nor is it untainted and purely white. surface tension. my fingers rub gently against its coarse surface. but the coarseness is far from abrasive. it is welcoming. the pouring rain slowly turns into a drizzle a tear. my breath, the pen and the paper, the waning rain and the churning of the fan play a cacophony that is to me, solace.
this is the moment that i am free. i am most happy. genuinely happy. no glances, no gestures made, no witty refutals to be conjoured or delivered. no rules. i write , i tell. i shift from one stroke to the next. my letters, the curves and points hold no absolute uniformity. at this moment... i play god.
then, i come away from it. as fleeting as the moment.
my breath stiffens. the air is still.
i grow stiff. i end it.
i put my things away.
the moment is gone forever. the day begins. i will resign.
my world crumbles. hush.
Posted at 06:49 am by june_gurl
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Sep 3, 2004
chronicle(s) of the quintessential paramour
prologue: sent to my dearly departed friend. departed for the manner that we no longer come in contact... meeting of consciousness... as these were my words, learnings i implored simply to console... then again, it was a signifier of the nearing abeyance of our correspondence.
(and so they say...
the written word becomes immortalize...
tis' but an attempt my friend.)
it is said that upon birth one is forordained to have his or her own ending. as this temporal sundry frolicks in the the confines of all that is finite. each and every individual... creation, is bequeathed a duration to which he, she or it will make use of borrowed heaven. being predisposed with an agreed upon ending, one is given the agency. choice. the prerogative to do away with that which he/she was given or bank on the idea, equip with proactive iniative to have more and negate complacency. ( our lifebook as to how i may conjure the whole logic). in this passing fancy that is to some, and eternity to others... in this life... we make choices. these decisions entail repercussions. these are preceedents to aftermaths. my choice, your decision, one's moves... are detrimental to the epilogue of our lifebook. through such choices, compounded by externalties and situation contingent fatorials... one hastens and intensifies the ending... or delays the conclusion and gives demise its lull time.
the ending... closure, provides balance... as the impetus of the cosmos is... oneness.
you and her are one. just like you and i are one. everyone and everything... the whole universe shares a gene... an atom... an iota of commonality. ones parting is borrowed breath to another, as it is birth and rebirth. one's lose is segueway to salvage another's finis, c'est finis.
you may perceive that she's far to young to retire to infinite slumber. you may think that she deserves an encore. she does... and she will. as all are one and infinite. she will just progress to another plane, realm, consciousness... whatever term have you. as you will no longer feel the warmth of her kisses nor become dumfounded as she jerks to a smile... you will still feel her ... know with much certainty that she's with you... forever and always... and her existence... her spirit... and all that is her. continues... and will forever be... in flux.
an adage ones went... one cannot escape the event that is birth and death... best that one can do is enjoy the interval. live her!!! forever love her!!!
those are my words for ye!
enough said!
epilogue: the end our mental elocutions... our pointless promenades, shared conversations over a cup of coffee and a stick of cigarette... henceforth... a mere 'hi-hello'.
Posted at 11:52 pm by june_gurl
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Aug 29, 2004
i killed myself again today. like the many instances that i have had in the past. they would post their queries, asked me what was it of the matter. i kept mum. and each and everytime i come into silent seclusion... i die.
i killed myself again today. i was with someone. we shared each other in euphoria. bridled desires that were compounding ... now come loose. point blank, left a tang. he looked me in the eye, then i closed my eyes... that moment... i died.
i killed myself today. amidst the laughter preceeding the conversation. she was my dear friend. she asked me if i did not tire, nor hurt with such correspondence i had with a beau, passing fancy. jolted into laughter. my inside was sobbing into tears. it didn't only hurt... it was perpetually taxing. still i continue on with the dance. i frolick my way to death, with the requiem as backnoise.
i killed myself today. i committed suicide. beyond redemption. beyond retribution. i let my heart feel. an agreed upon tryst. it was suppose to be this afternoon. the phone rang. i knew it wasn't the person who should have been calling by this hour.... still the "what if's" very much reverberating. it was one of my friends back in highschool. i anticipated this... still i kept hush and watched it unravel. i was then courting one of the fates.... that moment... my thread was finally cut... my heart.... no longer throbing.
Posted at 07:05 pm by june_gurl
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Aug 23, 2004
surrealist existentialism
...sigh... sigh... sigh...
these past few days evertyhing has been downright surreal. a perpetual transitory existence of seemingly quaint, dreamlike existence. should i say it's prozac induced!!!!?????!!!! i would have to put a refutal against my own statement.
tis' but mere escapism. veering away from the more evident and glaring themes in my life that i soooo effortlessly dismiss. i will not yield to the maxims of cliche!!!! not ever!!!!
alas such paradoxical quandaries are mere luxury in a theo-philosophically desensitized world... dialectical materialism loosely used and stated is the impetus that maneuvers many a number of men's vesicles of flesh!!!!
sigh... sigh... fare you well friends.
Posted at 06:48 pm by june_gurl
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