Paranoid...

The doors were wide open... When I was not there...
They were always closed when I am there...
Glass buds in delicate blue, green.. I see red when the doors were opened...
Am I a paranoid?
What are that which related to doors being opened...
Are there footsteps a while ago... petty ones, not of the fairies, goblins and what not creatures?
Not even solid paws of domestic pets, but real gentle pretty toes, washed and polished much, like the foot which wore glass heels, which I knew nothing of...
What is there to lose, that I have tried throwing myself into the well which is so tiny that my leg was stuck... pulled out, unsatisfactory result... with green slimy moss cling to the nails...

Is there not any time spared... No time for me to heave a breath of silent contentment...
in this mad and changing world...
What is there to hide actually...
I knew not from the anglic features of the stone statue...

People who play with wolves...

I used to hear about wolves of once upon a time... Their howls called the devils, razor sharp fangs that thirst for flesh and blood... The sickly yellowish eyeballs which rolled out menacing stares when when you are on the ground, defenceless... The end is near when you encounter this creature, as bastard as those born from hell fire...

A fall in time crashed those harrowing periods... Wolves are cataloged in the rational cataloging -  canines, carnivorous, hunts all tiny in flesh and blood unless desperately had tasted human blood, warm - blooded animals... etcetera~ there are not only a single profile of wolves... there are the 'loyal breeds' whom I deemed as menace as their anchestors (rarey encounter or highly endangered or might be extinct); there are the 'newly found breeds' whom the scientists have actively pursuit with tags and sringes that catch and pounch on those creatures without even a scratch mark on them, unless highly intimidated revert to old ways, but not that long, not that fearsome; and the last, the 'cross breeds' the ones whom people yelled 'mad dogs!!!' at, those that have send people straight into the hospital when their teeth sink deep into the flesh, rabies - the microscopic virus ironically, not the wolf that kills... Small unseen tiny creatures that lurked... It is worse, as a view from a microscope look like helpless single cell tissues that roam helplessly in bodily fluid...


Tenderly, I stroke a wolf... an old bite mark on my wrist still visible... I lived... no, I do not get infected by rabies... not all wolves are bad, it is the seemly tiny and harmless mites that you must be aware of...

Everlasting...

four seasons shed their jackets yearly...
they make joy, liveliness, resentment, sorrow, and wounds from time to time...
as much as there are tears from the eyes, there are smiley wrinkles all around...
things are such that we cannot control, thus we go with the flow of time where it brings us towards reunions and farewells, from banks to banks where tide lapped just at the right time...
the curving of a river...
starts and has always been that...
a cruise down the river breather a different view with every paddle...
a sign of rejuvenating the sights that calms contentment...
sometimes we are being swept too fast into the rapids, or there were attractive fishes in the water, catching our attention, and we lost sight of the difference at the banks...
the leaves rustling indifference... and we close our minds to the familiar and the readily available...
opening up to newer things which are in narrower cracks...
That is how things go from life to life...

The Time comes... and goes...

Into the second week of studying in this tucked away institution... A gate that surrounds and closes up the boundaries that had reached out.... vines were chopped... The blooming flowers gone... It is summer now, spring is long gone...

What do I expect, not a streak of rainbows over my head, nor a lark perching on the lamp post outside the window. Wind is different, much warmer... But the skies are blues there....
There are more winds to ride on...

As much as there are daisies in my mind, there are none here in fact... the fact that soil matters....
Saw hibiscus instead...
 I should probably lok for casuarina tress soon.. miss those would be pine cones... tiny as they are might....

The year lays ahead a path of familiar shrubs but unknown encounters....