Subject of Dreams

The Subject of Dreams. (Photograph credits to Ashraf Saharudin.)

It is never a sin to carry the self away with the wind and go off to far-off places where you are able to construct castles of dreams.  It is never even wrong – no, not once! – to let the wanderlust soul wander along the passages of conciousness.

As the spirit descends deeper and deeper down, and enshrouds itself amongst the visions and fantasies long forgotten, but still existing, albeit, it passes by projections of thoughts, feelings, and emotions.   It crosses over mysterious lakes covered by mists, finally transcending in a dark cave that shields a wealthy treasure of the Past, Present, and Future.

Where actions and deeds unfathomable in reality are carried out at the freedom of the soul.  Where fruits abound abundantly upon surfacing to awaken-ness concepts innovative to pending – or rather, bugging – issues.

Thus permit the soul to escape from the calcium cage as it pleases.  Leave to explore… at its own will.

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Red Story

Red Story


  Me and my American bum decided to take a sit in the cosy – and also icy, no doubt – McDonald’s restaurant at a corner in the shopping mall.  There were other places, but this is our favorite so far .

To be frank, my toes were already on the brink of turning stone hard in the frosty temperature even before I actually sat down.  I just brought my scarf along; why did I absent-mindedly leave my woolen jumper alone in my burrow? Today’s tale is going to be about my hair.  Yup.  It is going to be about that and only that.

The beloved part of me saw me grow through a beautiful three years .  It went through the hardships I faced… and bore the brunt of my experiences.  It suffered the hands of psychopaths, the edge of depression, the angst of a scarred heart; yet the beautiful mind let it grow, let it grow, and let it grow. This beautiful part of me emerged into a soft, lengthy tress of autumn brown that curled at the ends.

As months slipped away and turned into history, it seeped in my hardships, my pains, and little heartbreaks and joys. Anyhow, my mind decided that this Autumn enough is enough.  And so decided to give her a complete makeover.  Not just slice it into half.

Remember, it is a complete makeover.  Top it up with a splash of wine red.

     And so begins a new life. =)

Red Scarlet

It begins today.

It begins today.

My Psychoanalysis

It is now September 14, 2014 – an extremely hot, sunny day.  I have just finished lunch, and replied some company stuff, so now I have another fifteen minutes to do some writing.

I have to admit – my mind is racing!  Okay, let’s relax a little bit.

My Psychoanalysis.  (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

My psychoanalysis. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

You see, I am very aware that I have an incredible pal to maintain.  She is still in her youth, yet unlike the rest of the infants her age, she has this beautiful, captivating silence.

She is always here, there, everywhere to me.  For me.  There is no one as patient as she is who listens a full, absolute 100% to every rant, every muse, and every single glimmer, hope, and love, and lust that exists in my heart at any point of time.  The best part is that she is always behind me as I walk  through life’s little and big journeys.  She shares my delight with me; and when I wound up in a dead end, she helps to guide me back to the open roads again so others can see me.  That is why I invest a lot of effort in setting the stage for her appearances.

She is my sexy psychologist of whom I have grown totally fond of, my very own psychoanalysis.  She does not just exist for me; she lives for you too, and that is very incredible.  I may be visiting her a little lesser these days due to my working around the clock, but I still post her my love letters every now and then.

P.  S.  I am not a lesbian.  I am in love with who I am.  Peace!

Red Scarlet