Whispers and stirrings

petrified but moving by Sasha Manuel

Spent days looking for answers. Wishing I’d find them in cracks of conversations hampered by science and affections, albeit recent and raw; hoping for a reprieve from diffident choices and crude perceptions. Perhaps external postulations will yield a more lucid key, a needed repose.

My questions were drowned out by the noise of unwedded desires, denied of its cogency and consequence by lackadaisical stab at contact. Damn the viaduct and the pessimistic pull of ties when sentiment is lost in words absent action.

I should know better not to look to others for what I’m looking for.

I should know by now.

I should know by now.

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This Night

20140417-191909.jpg

Our story began long before this night.

You are the moon.

I am the star that seems to drink from your light; who chases you around the world. I can never shine the way you could. I am lost among a billion like me.

The world knows you.

And one can barely name me.

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Never Like This

photo

This wasn’t what I thought my life will be like.

Not like this. Never like this.

Thoughts came rushing in as traffic on a busy Bangkok street. The clear glass window and just the humming of the a/c masked the noise. Removed me from where I was. That and a song that prodded me to think that I want to be near you. Seemingly mimicking what I was currently doing — rushing to get back to the place I just came from, a place I thought I was running away from.

This is not what I thought how life will be like.

Not like this. Never like this.

But now I’m starting to see the reason and beauty on why it’s turning out the way it is.

Trivia: A quick post while finishing a third glass of whiskey at Park Royal Hotel, Yangon, Myanmar; Photo taken in Sanchaung, Yangon, January 2014.

Awhile

awhile, adv.

I love the vagueness of words that involve time.

It took him awhile to come back — it could be a matter of minutes or hours, days or years.

It is easy for me to say it took me awhile to know. That is about as accurate as I can get. There were sneak previews of knowing, for sure. Instances that made me feel, oh, this could be right. But the moment I shifted from a hope that needed to be proven to a certainty that would be continually challenged? There’s no pinpointing that.

Perhaps it never happened. Perhaps it happened while I was asleep. Most likely, there’s no signal event. There’s just the steady accumulation of awhile.

[David Levithan, The Lover's Dictionary]

Trivia: Quoted in transit, 14 March 2014, Yangon International Airport, Myanmar; book given by a friend, thank you!

Can I get there by candlelight?

Wax Light | SashaManuel.com - Life in stills and words. Online Photo-journal of Sasha Manuel

“.. every creature held its breath and the fireflies glowed brighter than they had ever glowed in their lives, each one convinced that this at last was love..” ~ Neil Gaiman, Stardust

Summer moves further away with each flicker; melts with the fading wax light. Weather, damp. Sentiment, dewy. Recalling a dubious desire with an ambiguous call to wait, the silent darkness nods.

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