Archive | December, 2012
22 Dec

My longing, is to wander the world and therefore, the world is my home.
I hope that makes sense.. =)


Christmas Wish

22 Dec

Christmas Instagram…

22 Dec

Our worse habits, are the ones we enjoy the most

18 Dec

She sat there watching the ambers of her cigarette burn and wondered when she picked up such a disgusting habit.

Not that it matters anyway.

It was a simply a past time, no cause for worries yet.

She picked up the stick and took a long deep drag.

Man, that felt good..
She could feel it kicking in, slowly but surely.
Her grounds were starting to get uneven.

That felt good.. A sick kind of good.

Like the man she picks.

He wasn’t terrible.
Just not too good for her – emotionally; physically they fit like a key to its lock.

He is a good man – intelligent, responsible, purposeful, yet still has his sense of humour and adventure about him.

But emotionally unavailable. Or maybe just not available to her.

She took another drag of her cigerettes, enjoying the warmth that the drag brought to her body.

Ahhh.. If only her relationship with him could be like that – you pick him up when you need that extra kick and comfort; smoke it till it burns out, snub it out when you’ve had enough and flick it away, like the insignificant trash he really should be…

How much easier life would be for her health.
So much kinder on the nerves and mind.

But no, it never pans out the way she envisions it to be.

Instead, her female instincts took over and she fell for him, despite the warning bells, she stupidly fell for him.


She shook her head at that thought.

Her cigarette burnt out and burnt her fingers.

Her most basic instinct should be to drop it and snub it out with her feet but instead she held on; allowing the ambers to sting her finger tips.

“It’s suppose to hurt”, she thought to herself, “but it didn’t.”

Am I that used to the pain, it no longer matters any more?

That thought bothered her a little as she crushed the ambers between her thumb and index finger.

She began wondering when he had become a habit – the worse one to top it off – for her.

How could a habit this bad, bring this much pleasure and joy?

Perhaps it really is true, that our worse habits are the ones we enjoy the most.

She chuckled as she thought about it.

No one cares!

She said out loud to herself as she strolls across the room to grab another cigarette,

No one gives a fucking shit about your inner monsters baby. Not the one you want to notice anyway.

She reached into the fridge for a beer and strolled back to the chair by the window.

I will allow myself to wallow in this self pity for a little longer and pick myself up tomorrow.

She lights up her stick and takes a swag from the bottle while it burns.

She leans an arm out of the window and watches the people below and takes a long deep drag.

I think I’ll head to the beach tomorrow if the nerves and weather holds out.

17 Dec


One day while I was shopping with my mother, we were walking past a store with a big front window. In this window there was a little boy, just standing there looking back at me. He had a black eye and bruised cheek. And the look in his eyes was so sad. They were filled with so much pain and sadness that just looking into them brought tears to my eyes. And I turned away.

Some years later, while walking past the store again, I saw that same little boy. He had grown some but it was apparant that it was the same boy. He still had bruised cheeks and his nose was taped up from being broken. In his eyes I could still see all his pain, his lonliness, his sadness. Once again it brought tears to my eyes, and once again I turned away.

In my teenage years…

View original post 337 more words

Living vs Visiting

15 Dec

Time to run away to Marrakech perhaps?

Live simply, travel lightly, love passionately & don't forget to breathe

Since this was my second time in Marrakech this year, I was basically going back with the knowledge of a local.

But because I don’t speak French or Arabic well enough, it resulted in a fight with a cab driver, who dared to demand

50 euros…

View original post 1,046 more words

Lay down your weary head

15 Dec

Her Apollonian lover

15 Dec


He sat himself across from her, against the window.

The lights from the street lamps below casted beautiful shadows across his face.

It was a sight to behold.

Indescribably haunting.

Inscrutably beautiful.

There was a sense of woefulness in the strong confident face she had grown so accustomed to.

She would do so much to be able to gaze into that face everyday.

He was her Apollo; her bringer of light, redemption and healer.

Like many gods of antiquity, he was a complex character.

He was one, and he was many.

She sat up amongst the sheets that were tangled around her body so she could get a better view of him.

She could sense his eyes following the movement of her body.

His muscles tensed as she sat up.

He reminded her of Bernini’s Apollo, fluid yet intense.


She reached out to touch his face, and she never want to be without this tingling sensation running through her finger tips from the touch of his skin.

He looked her straight in the eye, and she could see the storm brewing in them.

He looked away and told her to cover up.

He told her she looked disgusting, fat and disgusting.

That she should learn to cover up her flaws more; not everyone would be able to look at it appreciatively.

Not him for sure.

It hurt.

It hurt really, really bad.

Like her heart was pierced a thousand times over, with arrows from all directions.

It was a pain she has never known before.

Especially coming from his lips.

It hurt so much she wanted to die.

She swallowed hard and kept her cool.

She didn’t want him to see her cry, she didn’t want him to see her weakest point.

But the tears.

Oh, those darn bastardly tears were threatening to fall.

 She avoided looking at him, in case they fell.

He picked up her clothes and threw them at her, telling her to hurry up.

They had to leave before anyone else woke up.

He didn’t want anyone to see her; or them together.

The hurt he had caused her with those callous words were undeniable.

She sat at the edge of the bed putting her clothes on as he strolled towards the door to wait.

Again, she could feel the tears welling up, and his eyes studying her movements.

This pain was worse than death.

She looked up at him, hoping to find a sign of regret for the hurt he had caused her.

But he looked away before she found his eyes.

He strolled out of the door impatiently once she was done dressing.

As they rode down the lift, he told he was her worst habit and that she should get rid of him.

She took a deep breathe and told him she thinks so too.

That was the only lie she told him the whole night.

She watched his back as he headed upstairs after leaving her at the lobby.

It only made her heart ache for him more.

She wanted to run up to him and tell him she knew he didn’t mean everything he said.

But her feet wouldn’t move.

Tears started rolling down her cheeks as the doorman hailed her a cab.

Whatever dignity she had wanted to preserve came crumbling down as she cried helplessly in the backseat.

The driver asked if she was okay, she said no.

The driver asked where she was headed to, and she didn’t know, she told him to send her to the furtherest hotel from here.

She just wanted to get away because she knew this was a vicious cycle.

Her Apollo would call her in a week or so and ask her out, and she would say yes.

And the cycle begins again.

As the tears came rolling down, she could feel her heart aching and dying away.

She didn’t ask to fall in love with a god, but she didn’t know how to quit.

She wondered when, and if this cycle would someday end.

A man and his craft

14 Dec

Sacrifice for the dead.

11 Dec