Story | Mercury

Liquid silver was dripping, gliding down the neck out through the threshold. Slowly the entire bottle was gone away for good.

Goodness was drained. All it left behind was the deed to be completed.

Do not worry. Time will erase everything, at least bit by bit the memory of trauma will slip away. You will become a stronger person. Mercury will run in your blood, all over your body, providing with energy that no one can defeat.


2011/05/01

Story | Dynamics

I tried to keep the anger out of me. I am trying hard not to think, not to analyze, not to investigate the truth. However I do know about it. I just don't want to face it.

It is better this way anyway. I will live a happier life, enjoy myself while I can, and relax.

Deeply I believe that my school is better. He is just jealous so he tried to manipulate his last bit of power as someone that overlooks me. Ah, power relations. Too bad too bad. I saw straight through your game, and I pretended to be stupid. We all knew you are biased, and highly jealous of an education you did not receive.

Screw you. You are just a piece of my stepping stone, a filler in my career before I lead a change in the world.

2011/04/25

Story | Personal Narrative

You wanted to read blogs. Indeed I have over 300 posts on mine, packed with many personal stories since five years ago. Lots and lots of documentaries regarding my little tiny invisible life that no one cares about.

I'm wondering if I should share with you my past. I'm not ashamed of my history and memory, yet... at least I thought they were not as ordinary (although interesting) as most would assume it to be. I hid lots of stories about my eye-candies, my crushes, my relationships... and many of them are not exactly moral or proper or whatever (but again that depends on your 'standard' of morality, excuse you).

Now I felt like I have been affected negatively, and brought down deeply by my own past. (However there were nothing wrong!) Am I being too harsh to my brain and body? Am I still being my own heteronormative judge on myself? But... but I cherish my queer history. I think the abnormality that I experienced and participated in made me a stronger and better person. They forced me realize how privileged I am as an individual.

So now, would you be interested in reading my life?


2011/04/17

Story | Demarcation

I envy those people who have perfect lives, or at least appeared to be perfect lives. Why can't I just be easily satisfied? Would that mean I lose myself if in fact I turn myself into accepting everything others pose on me? Where do I draw the boundary between being way too particular, or too coward or shy to have and speak up about my own thoughts?


2011/04/17

Story | 12:01

No more guessing. No more games.
No more waiting. No more butterflies.
No more chasing. No more worries.
No more dreaming. No more excitement...

When the thrill is gone, it disappaears.
When the time has passed, it is done.

It was not meant to be.


2011/04/13

Story | Things are funny isn't it VIII

Yesterday I went out shopping with my good friend in downtown. When we left the mall, being a poor student, I asked her if she would mind if I shared her monthly transit pass and she was fine with it. We decided I would go in first and her second.

I got inside, slipping the transit pass inside the shopping bag. I pretended I took one of her bags by mistake, handed it back to her over the gates at the station and waved good bye. Then I walked over to the platform waiting for her to get in. Obviously, while doing the 'transaction', I was being very sensitive and cautious about the multiple transit staff standing around and the ceiling-mounted cctv cameras overwatching us.

There was this boy with anchor tattoos on both arms, which I assumed to be gay or queer, wondering close by. I vaguely remembered I saw him at H&M when I was looking for my friend, just before we decided to leave the shopping mall. I noticed and remembered him because of the way he donned campness, which was something I've learn and discussed in class. (Yes I'm a geek. I actually tried to link what I learn at school to daily lives.)

Even my body was walking towards the platform to avoid suspicion, my eyes kept on starring at the entrance lobby area just so I wouldn't lost my friend. So I sat down on a bench, waiting for her to come over without losing myself within a crowd of people that came in before she did. This boy, yes the sailor-looking-campy-possibly-gay-or-queer boy, twirled in a loop or two, right in front of me. At that time I thought, perhaps that was his cruising dance for his next target, who managed to be around me - I mean, who knows, there were gazillion number of people on the platform waiting for the train.

Then I saw my friend walking right pass me without noticing, I immediately stood up and tapped her, and we walked further down the platform. We waited close to the wall for the train.

The boy appeared once again, twirling and wiggling his bum casually at the edge of the platform, 3-4m away from me. I thought, stuff like this only happened in gay bars or in the 70s, no? (for reference, in the movie Milk, Harvey picked up Scott on the subway stairs) Was he really that desperate?

The train came. my friend and I found a spot to sit down, and we started talking about our dinner plan. For the one last time, the boy twirled through the vetical metal bars in front of my eyes once more, making sure he had caught my eye of ignorance. Then he danced himself and disappeared within the crowd on the train cart.

F*CK was what I had on my mind.


2011/04/24

*Read the previous stories, Things are funny isn't it VII, here: http://threequartertranslation.blogspot.com/2010/06/story-things-are-funny-isnt-it-vii.html

Story | Formation of Ruby Gems

Hammer. Drill. Crack open the ground.
Noisy sounds burst from the brutal actions, evading consciousness.

Pieces of flesh and shell pop out.
Pain spazz acutely from the reminder core out to the public sphere.

The ocean flood out, enveloping the defenseless histories and memories.
Glisters of Red glow, endlessly lighting the dark narrow alleyway.

Tears, compound with complex thoughts and desires,
gush down the valley and formed numerous canals.

Will there be a tomorrow?


2011/04/12

Story | Popping Bubbles

Once I was determined to ask you out for coffee. You said yes and gave me your number. Woo hoo. Now I don't know anymore. I want to, but I became coward towards this whole thing. What if you think I'm too old too fat too much for you, my political views -particularly on sexualities- are too liberal, that fact that I'm agnostic and not a christian, I'm a weird moody annoying person who is hard to deal with...

I blow bubbles for other people, but burst my own.

Good bye my coffee date.

2011/04/10