Archive for April, 2008


Punisher #56: 1 | 2

Twenty-eight today
and twenty-five tomorrow
one day for twenty-four hours

I’ll look for you in the sky
twenty-one stars
one for the girl who squeaks in the cinema
closes her eyes and huddles to the side
one beaming for October and walking in the evening
by the quay just talking
a glittering one for the smile
and another one, sparkling for the letter and opening doors
one far off at the side, for the dream in November
one quiet and twinkling for that marzipan feeling
another for my Mary Jane
and one more for the magic

the rest for the future
for hopes and dreams fulfilled
for all the promise I see in you

twenty-five feelings
twenty-five chances
twenty-five sonnets
twenty-five glances
twenty-five songs

All for you
twenty-five today


Recommended listening: Yasmin the Light, Explosions in the Sky


Bring On The Wonder

I can’t see the stars anymore living here
Let’s go to the hills where the outlines are clear

Bring on the wonder
Bring on the song
I pushed you down deep in my soul for too long

I fell through the cracks at the end of our street
Let’s go to the beach, get the sand through our feet

Bring on the wonder
Bring on the song

I pushed you down deep in my soul for too long

Bring On The Wonder, by Susan Enan

Saw too much, too far
Dreamed for too long
Knew too little
Believed even less

but someday, someday, it’ll all make sense.

Conversations of a Dream

“It’s been a few days ago since this happened, but the dream remains to me as clear as it played out in my mind as I slept, in poignant clarity and carrying all the hopes and idle thoughts drifting in my head in secret.

But that is all there is to it. It’s a stray clip and not some long-drawn monumental epic moving through three acts, but it’s really one of those reels that you splice onto a trailer, short but quite definitely striking in the way that it occupies a space within yourself – burrowing itself so furious and furtive that its presence lingers on, incessant and quiet; it continues, playing over and over, eliciting a different facet of expression on your face or in your heart, each bloody time.

It’s many things: a stupid grin. The furrowed brow, eyes filled with a distant sadness. A mad, roiling soup of non-heterogeneous emotion. Whitening knuckles. A tiny bit of extra spring in your step. Idle whistling of a nameless tune. Impulse shopping for things you don’t really need but must have. An endless array of annoying things that cannot be put into words.

It’s all very simple, when we come to talk about these things. Perhaps we can allude its entirety through the adolescent/foolish pursuit of love and all its emotional wranglings that the chaser, quite inevitably, undergoes.

So here it is: you have a beautiful girl, almost too bright or lovely, oft both, and one finds oneself speaking with her. And in addition – quite incredulously and in the dreamer’s perspective, impossibly – together. Not merely occupying adjacent spaces in the sense of the word, but together. Do you get me?

It is usually always banal, contrary to one’s romantic/flippant aspirations, defying one’s constant flights of fancy; this time, the entire scene and premise was the leaving for a simple trip, such as filling the car boot and the opening of the front gate. The small details are curiously vivid – the sound of shutting car doors, the clink and jangle of keys as one locks the heavy oak door, the creasing of leather seats, the zip and snap of the safety belt.

And then it happens – the little things that will eventually ingrain its tiny selves into your brain, imprinting themselves so hopelessly into your subconscious that you wake up with every single bloody detail still dancing infuriatingly in your head.

So: one looks to the left and sees her looking right at you, with that slight smile on her face, incredibly beautiful, heartbreaking, and she lifts her hand – in maddening slow motion, treading the space between the two of you – to stroke your cheek. And I can’t describe it, how it feels like; it’s like scraping heaven and taking a fistful of it on your way down. It’s the first dab of paint across canvas and the ensuing riot of colour – broad swathes of it, enveloping and encapsulating your vision and periphery. Like I said – beautiful.

Then she speaks a single sentence, something so utterly normal and ordinary that you can’t remember whether it was about bringing all the luggage or the passports or important phone numbers or the camera; but it’s her voice you recall with astonishing clarity, the liquid timbre of it – and then with an inward nod you think that it could just be a single part of an entire whole. The realisation strikes you, suddenly, like how everything about her combines into something breathtaking, as if wrought by God himself, reaching right into you, without effort, as easily as if no thought were put into it, stealing you away. Utterly, completely, and with no backward glances.


And don’t you think it’s.. sad, or rather, surprising, or maybe anti-climactic? What happened to shouting passionate declarations from rooftops, midnight serenades by her window, or whispering bad poetry while huddled up under the covers, over the phone? It’s these mundane bits of memory – of a dream, no less, which probably makes it even more self-defeating, heh! – containing the most boring and banal moments that one lives through every day, but still linger after you, hovering about the edges of your consciousness, for the rest of the week.

I wish I could help it, but it’s impossible. I’m hitting ‘play’ again.

And again.”

– excerpt from Something That Does Not Yet Exist

Recommended listening: Amateur Takes Control‘s Sayonara Supergirl

MONO – Live in Singapore

From Robin:

KittyWu Records is proud to announce that they’ll be bringing Explosions In The Sky label-mates, MONO to Singapore. Their sound has been described as terrifying, crushing beauty. Their live set is not to be missed. If you missed Explosions In The Sky, you should should not miss this!

Mark your calenders, boys & girls.

Venue and ticketing details to be confirmed. (Stay tuned for updates)

July 3, 2008. One day before leaving for Sydney.

I’m already there. Anyone else interested?

a little pain

Travel to the moon
君は眠り 夢を解く
誰もいない 星の光 操りながら強くなるため 忘れた笑顔
きっと二人なら 取り戻す

I’m here waiting for you
I’m here waitng for you
きっと心は つなぐ糸をたぐってる叫び続けて
あの頃の私 目を覚ますよう
no need to cry

Travel in silence
手をのばせば 触れるのに
それは 思い出の中のこと

声が聞こえる 目を閉じれば
小さな痛みさえ いとしくて

I’m here waiting for you
風に吹かれ 一人迷っても
I’m here waiting for you
ずっと心は 手を広げて守ってる

あの頃の君が 振り返るまで
no need to cry

Feel something Feel nothing
Listen closely Listen closely
Wide open ears
Disarm the dream tickler
In the constant moment
You will find me Where it’s quiet
Listen closely Listen closely
Let the blood flow
Through all the spaces
Of the universe

Download MP3 of ‘a little pain’ here (select the first link – tried it and it works).

Yasmin in April

Yasmin the Light
– Explosions in the Sky

You know how sometimes we put down lyrics of a particular song or an excerpt from a book or somewhere else, that in some way translates or expresses whatever you cannot by yourself do so?

It is a pleasant kind of dilemma with music by EitS. And Yasmin the Light is the song for this phase and season, a journey unsure (and sometimes terrifying) but certainly filled with a hopeful sense of expectation for what is to come.

And like the song, I find myself without words, lacking any comprehensible way of penning down the moments I find myself in; the silent whispers of prayer sliding underneath my tongue, staring in deep darkness and a ringing in my ears that comes only in the absence of sound, the (imagined?) sensation of skies drifting overhead, at speed, while in hurtling metal; all of these are true but no less easier to express.

EitS’s music becomes a blank canvas on which I paint a tale of my own, the frame which contains all the stories and shut eyelids and inaudible intakes of breath and the thousands of footsteps taken on foreign soil.

Yasmin the Light to me was first a love song – the reason why I thought so should be apparent enough – the steady drum in the opening seconds an allusion to heartbeats; a melody on guitar slides in, clean, crisp and sweet, like how a romantic confronts the clear day. It climbs, falls, and then, perhaps lovestruck, distorted guitars and drums crash into one another for the next forty-five seconds in a glorious tempest, guitar-sung light, a veritable storm of music-laden emotion – and it is over as quickly as it has begun.

It’s the caught breath at the sight of her, the tumult within, and the conflicting urge to run and to stay. Being three thousand miles away and she can feel nearer to you than the person beside you.

The rest of the song – which has become my favourite – is similar to the opening minute, varying in tempo across four minutes but no less imbued with that same sense of wonder in the beginning. I imagine it to be a journey leading again to Yasmin, hope-filled and clear-eyed, a tapestry of memory and future woven into something new and, perhaps even more, striking and wonderful. Forty-five seconds of passion, pure and intense, with four minutes of traversing the road towards her, hoping each other’s individual carved paths will one day converge again.

I have no words tonight. This song, listen if you will, contains all of them.

Yasmin the Light
– Explosions in the Sky