i got me a hat today

and it was a hard one

it shall keep me safe

and ugly too

but it's ok

as long as its sharpied on its inside

the sax

here,

in the busy mist of the city,

i hear a lone saxophone cry to the godfather song,

i searched in vain,

through the alleys streets and crowded people,

to the places of buskers and beggars,

but could not find,

then,

i knew what it meant,

alas tears cluttered my eyes,

Toronto is finally saying goodbye.

yonge-dundas from my window

i finally noticed

no awkward pauses.

yes yes.

its the time of year

good good good

it's snowing outside

Why live? Why now? Why?

Because I've always wanted to be here. This is kinda like the last unexplored frontier of my life where the word mysterious is practically created for this place. And of course, there's that amazing secret connection that people are always unaware off. Real people, real lives.

For some, its an empty place. To me, its a place of fog and mist. The me in the past wouldn't had understand this any better than me present. But do I? If you take the common reference point of hugs and kisses and pop culture stuff, then what's left? Nothing to do with hearts, mushy texts and sickening roundabouts. All you ever need is in their eyes.

" people talking without speaking,

people hearing without listening,

people writing songs that voices never share"

There's something kinda gumbo-ass about this, like a come-to-mamma moment, a holymother... ok, you get the picture... One of the things that I do know about this is the fact that it always sounds, to me anyway, like its something that would probably suck. But it does not suck my friends, oh no.

the most beautiful

a vast emptiness

But what is it really that I want? A giant vast land that streches out seemingly out forever.

So, I've got my giaaant cuppa coffee, and now the day may commence.

my mind

There is a place at the centre of the world, a rare and quiet corner in the middle of this noisy and chaotic world of mine with shady squares of what seems like a micro-second of an entire day. And the only way to get there is to stop.

Let me tell you my friends, in this minuscule, delicate, yet deadly place. This is where everyday, something magic happens. This place, as you are about to find out, has a scale of its own. Years could be spent on this place, if not a lifetime. Digging and scavenging in all effort trying to gather all the bits and pieces of all the string of thoughts that deposited like the tiny lumps of hair steadily collecting dirt of the corner floor. But still, I'd doubt I'll be able to make sense of any of it.

But no, this world is full of jealously guarded trade secrets, where real people, live real lives.

a theme for the new year

It seems 2011 began with a bad start. Maybe we need a little more of this:

ps: will continue writing asap.