Wednesday, February 9, 2011

No to Angel Cookies, No to Devil Cakes






I am tired of dreaming, so I am parking my soul here for the night. I hope you don’t mind. I tried to read your thoughts, but you are unknown to me. I am slipping, falling between the words that I write here. I am clambering up the paragraphs of your life. You say you are a footnote in my life, but I am neither a book nor a chapter. I am unwritten until you write me. I am lost until you guide me home to you. I am the bread you have yet to bake, the man you have yet to marry, the flame you have yet to spark. I am a friend unlike any other.

I am tired of waiting, so I am going to hide in your pantry. How cozy it is in here. You say you don’t like pickles but I see you have dozens of jars stashed. You say you don’t like living, but I see you have enough instant noodles hoarded to last you through at least one lifetime. You say you are hurt, but when you passed by the pantry door you looked graceful as ever. I smiled wondering how you did not hear me snoring. I am sleeping in this second paragraph, and wondering where my words will take me now. This is the end of your pantry, but below is the beginning of a new journey. We are going places!

I am tired of crying, so I am going to empty my lake of tears. And I will fill it up with premium chocolate at reasonable prices. I shan’t take what the Angels are offering as they do not understand the value of money. And I shan’t take what the Devil is offering, as he tends to burn all his cookies. Oh no. I will wait for you to open your stall in my heart. And I will pay whatever you desire for your chocolate candies, even if I have to ransom the Kingdom of Shams in a golden fleet. Do you not see them already? They are at your harbour, anchored between the forested hills of old Kentucky and Mount Kinabalu.

Death is near, but my birth is nearer still. I saw a light and it was veiled. I came to it and drew the veil away to reveal the source - And it was a rose of many endless petals. From the leaves radiated beams of light of many hues. Within the rose is a blackhole with a sign posted on its entrance. The sign says “Sigh, for this is before the creation of Time’. The tail of my turban unfurled further than I could reach, and it fell into a sea of clapping waves, but the sea was green, not blue. I tried to hold back the light, but it came upon me all the sudden, and my reason was undone, my sanity kidnapped. I have nothing left to hold onto but you.

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This is not a dream, but merely an exercise in writing. Nor is my life any more real, being only an exercise in living. But it feels oh so true. Especially when I am with you.

Pax Taufiqa.

Footnote:
Sketch #1 is from Amir Adam Mohd Zahurein
Sketch #2 is just done yesterday but only scanned today (network scan been buggy of late).

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