mon ami

its been a long time my friend
minutes to hours
hours to days
days to weeks
and months to years
how quickly time flies
whether you are having fun
or not
now i stand here
where we stood once
smiles on our faces
covered in mud and grit
but we stood nonetheless
as i stand here, i remember
for that is all i can do
those times are gone
never to be seen again
the grass has grown
the walls long crumbled
i still expect to see you
come walking around the corner
but it never happens
wherever you may be
whatever you're doing
i hope life has treated you well
its been a long time my friend.

shh

shhhhhh
your so beautiful
but i can't say anything
all the words just
die in my throat
the silence pervaded
filling everything around us
the gaps and holes
all that is left
is me and you
standing hand in hand
in the cold moonlight
looking, just looking
into your big brown eyes
your silky brown hair
the warm nape of your neck
i move in for our first kiss
your soft pink lips
against mine
but you'll never hear
me say these things to you
say how much i want you
that each moment with you
is absolute joy
and at the same time
complete pain
because you'll never know

i can't do anything else
anything magical or special
nothing to make you,
change your mind
something that will,
make u feel different
all i can do
is,
be there when you need me
catch you when you fall
wipe your tears when you cry
tell you its gonna be ok
when things go wrong
all i can do
is be your friend
and hope beyond hope
that one day, you'll be mine too

madeleine

maybe i can't write?
maybe this vacant hope for this ability
is all i have to hold on to?
but when i write,
what if words are said but no meaning?
sentences put down but brought no life?
if i can't write, then i cannot do,
and if i cannot do,
then i am such a mediocre girl,
mediocre madeleine

mirandised

do you know what it feels like,
being the other person.
the stranger on the outside.
the second class citizen.
i just sit there and wait,
some bizzare form of
masochistic righteousness.
hanging on her every word,
entranced by her every move
waiting like a lapdog,
scraps at the table of her love
just to be there, for that one
that one handout of hope.

to dream of her, that is my curse,
to just dream and never have her,
every moment absolute bliss and ecstacy ,
but at the same time pure pain and sadness.

to wake up tasting her in my mouth,
smelling her scent on my bed ,
but opening my eyes and seeing her not there,
my chest still wet from her tears.

The trances occur with consecutive 'flashes'. I drift and drift and drift and I think at some point or another, I must have fallen asleep but then I suddenly remember my purpose and my mind jolts awake, but the body forgets to do the same as well. And voici, I have entered a new level of trance.

Each level brings with it its own myriad of sensations. At the highest level of consciousness, everything is as normal. At the lowest level I have consciously experienced, I go so far as to observe auditory 'hallucinations'. This is a very weird feeling per say. The most common thing by far that I hear are radio stations. Of course there are voices and all that, but radio stations or broadcasts and the sort are the most common.

I remember once quite vividly as well, the 'ability' of seeing with my eyes closed. This is mentioned very often as a premptory stage for actual projection.

I was flying a kite. I don't know why, but I was. It seems like such an un-me-ish thing to do. But at any rate yeah, that was what I was doing. Then I realised I had moved to this new neighbourhood. My new house was a small 2-roomish affair. I moved in with my grandmother only. The entire atmosphere seemed sort of sad and gloomy. Wait, no, more like melancholy. As if we dearly missed something, but did not know what. I think pretty soon, I took to the streets. Exploring and whatnot, but in my head i always carried the thought of my grandmother. A thought of worry. I discovered a lot of shops and hidden nooks and crannies. Its a subconscious thing. I guess I like the idea of hidden enterprises. There was a Chinese restaurant that sold some rare delicacy. Children playing somewhere. At one point, I was running a bit and I noticed then I could really widen my strides and sort of glide.

The next part had something to do with my birthday. I did something really bad or uncaring and I ended up alienating a lot of people. But what affected me the most was the fact that my parents seemed to hate me? or just plain not care about me. This hurt me quite deeply and I often found myself crying and panic-striken at the thought.