March

 

...if there's no one beside you when your soul embarks-
then I'll follow you into the dark.

Death Cab For Cutie concert, March 7 at Fort Canning Park

You know those things that you're very sure of but when it's already happening it doesn't go the way you thought it would. This concert is one of them. I was convinced that I could watch their concert in hell and I'd have a blast nevertheless. NO. Singapore's humidity that night was a monster. 

Birthday

Celebrated his birthday over pasta and fried chicken. And lot of cuddling. *too much info alert sound*

I've been in and out of sickness, minor ones thankfully, in the past months--this is probably my body telling me to go back to yoga. The truth is I have underestimated this transition into a new relationship. I thought that I can just smoothly navigate myself with few tweaks in plans and decisions every now and then. And I forgot that sometimes it can also be hard. I didn't get to prepare for counter-attacks when circumstances are punching me in the face.

Hard times - 10
Jans - 0

And the irony is I've never been this happy in so long. I actually forgot how it's great to have someone. Maybe the overwhelming feeling masks the things that should've been dealt with but I just throw them back in my 'deal with you later' bin.

Now that 'deal with you later' bin is staring (more like glaring) at me. I have to start now.

Somewhere I Have Never Travelled by E. E. Cummings

Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near.

Your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose.

Or if your wish be to close me, I and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing.

(I do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.