Particles of Dust: Your self-serving opinions are merely a pretzel of dog turd

A uniformity of formless, lifeless minute particles in the air shares the same family tree of groundless, hotly-assumed opinions. And, because these particles are everywhere at anytime, it's pointless to avoid them; it clings onto your hair, face and clothes but you would rather leave them alone and continue with what matters to you than to try and remove them like lint - overall, it is a waste of time.

Not that we are gracious to let them stay - minimally annoying - and if you have a dust roller, it is handy, if not leave them be. For a start, these particles doesn't cause any bodily harm. As long as they stay in their nomadic shelter, we aren't bothered by their existence no matter how much of an epidemic: onto our favourite jacket or pants. Only specks to the eye and no one talks about it unless the weather is no longer in vogue to open the first channel of communication.

Negligible and point like, dust is itself self-explanatory.

You're dust and your visibility is formed when no one's looking; no one talks about you except a rag. That's all. But you, dust, is as forgettable and useless like dog turd.

Opinions are just that, unless it can transcend into something better for you and me.

A Brew You Might Like

Dearest,

This silly piece is done lovingly, tenderly and jocularly for you and it is only good for today, like Brew of the day. Savour it after an arduous day because only my words can do the things I wish I could do if I were by your side now. This piece is representative of a slipshod attempt of storytelling at its Finest - I do beg your pardon.

This brew is quite a winner in terms of acidity and hints of spicy undertones. Sip it slowly because it is only served in a shot like an espresso - a little more might keep your peepers big and bright for the night and it is not good at all - brevity, baby.

I was quite moved by your demand of The Daily Brew of Madness, and I sincerely wish to deliver the freshest brew everyday regardless of cranky cyberspace postmen, traffic and the like. In this Brew, you will find a footnote which explains the current challenges the author is facing but she is not excusing herself from taking a break JUST BECAUSE. The author takes her Brew very seriously and sincerely produces reading material of the finest quality just for you, her faithful reader.

I believe with every confidence that you would be quite bewildered with today's Brew. It is a little titillating for my taste; however it isn't a lost cause because this special Brew is set circa ‘99 in a beautiful land, quite far from where we both are now. Until we travel to that beautiful land, it's xxx for now. Years like falling hair, we once left ours in Napoleon's lair. That walk on a cold windy night with you, it’s always you.

You have given me something I still can't quite put my finger on what exactly it is; however I know one thing's true: We have been brought together for something great and something of the furthest. I haven't thought much of what lies ahead but I do know how alike we are, and how we always intuit the next crazy ride. It's a one way ticket my love, like Willy Wonka's Golden Ticket. You're da bees' knees, and I, the cat’s pajamas - whatever that means - but we sure rock like young lovers do.

Sip this brew like a lover would taste his lover's neck - deep and tender. For you are not alone today while sipping this Otherworldly Brew. It conjures a utopia for you and me. Let the aroma rise like wanderlust up your nose and into your blood stream.

I lost myself in your fabled essence. Not anymore for you are real like moonlight and magnetic like Aurora Borealis.

My favourite piece of art: You.


Love like never before
Classy and bold, you are both
Love you once more and more
New love new day


*This is a concluding piece to Heartbreak Menu written sometime last year this time of year.

Sémillon Sway

I was tripped onto Oz
Like Merlin's hoax
Swirl on damp, crumbly soil
Mages pervade my veins
Cupping the last earthy sane
Resisting the spell of your gaze


*Sémillon is a terribly naughty wine for you and me.

Just A Little Longer

She wants to be covered by the same blanket every night till the one night she says no. Don't time her because she can't guarantee a date. They say familiarity breeds contempt but the sneer had not yet found her. It gives her space to roam. She was never the latest experiment or a microscopic wonder.

Let her stay for a little longer. She won't ask for more or less. The gnawing is still very much alive and she might become food for the worms if you ask her to give up now. You said to her "You will miss the boat." She said "Let that happen for I don't intend to step on board. It's sturdy and new but it's vile to my nose and terrible for my eyes to behold."

Loosen your hold but not too much so she may sway safely and still trust in you. She has seen too much, gone hazy with your wine, and very unsteady this time. She will take your hand and let you guide her for the first rite before she let go again and walk on the tightrope designed for her fall. Bones too hard to be broken because it has lost its ears to hear the sickening splat - old bones they call it - to command a fractured mayhem. An excellent replacement for a watery heart and fungal brains.

Her feet will be dragged and she would struggle with wordless passivity. Expect her to dance like a bright sunflower and she will droop like morning glory or unforgiving like poison ivy. Form her with your remembrance and sculpt her from your heart.

She has memories and sweetness trapped under her lids. She may not open them again just so she could hold them until one day she forgets how to open them.

'And when you can't believe, I'm on my hands and knees.' - Junk Of The Hearts, The Cardigans.