a little sumfin' sumfin'

http://thoughtmagazine.wordpress.com/

my dear friend Adelene Lai has the most distinctive writing style ever. i could smell her pen ink from a mile away. and what's more she is an absolutely brilliant writer. i do wish she would blog more because her posts are so refreshingly witty and, more importantly, so frank and raw.

i always wanted to write with a style of my own. and i think Ade's writing has somewhat influenced my writing to try and win a niche of its own. i think it already has a style, if i'm not mistaken. and anyway, nothing CAN'T have a style, if we really think about it. right? any piece of writing that exists must certainly have a style, whether it be boring or interesting, most readable or most distasteful...

so yes. i hope i can start writing something substantial and word-worthy real soon. i received a recent email from Ade asking me to help spread the word about this new collection of short stories, articles and other random bits and bobs from the youths of KL (i hope i still qualify for this even though i now live in Adelaide) called Thought Magazine. you can go to the URL above and download the PDF; it won't take long.

to be honest, i skimmed past the first few stories and articles because, and i'm sorry for this but really, war-related matters really don't interest me much, especially the first one which i felt went a little overboard with the extravagantly descriptive sentences. is it just me? i don't know. perhaps i was all too eager to find Ade's article and read it. i did have a look at the artwork and some photos, though, being the visual person that i am.

words don't come easy to me. HONESTLY, they don't.

but i'm looking to improve this.

la belle mer

Yesterday night, I went to a seafood restaurant by the seaside for dinner. There were a few hand-made swings fashioned from rope and planks hanging from the thick tree branches.

Looking out into the blackness of the horizon, the line which separated sky from sea blurred into a serene uncertainty. The wind whispered ever so softly.

I hoisted myself onto the swing closest to the sea, feeling the rough rope squirming under the light touch of my fingers. I listened to the sea shushing the shore to sleep with its gentle waves crashing lovingly against the white sand.

The shore was in a cloak of shadow, but the waves and the wind kept me company. I don't know how long it's been since I last kept so quiet that I could hear the the timid swish of the sea, unfurling itself against the shore. I can't even remember when's the last time I visited the beach.

I used to know the sand and the sea as a plaything. As a young child, the beach was a playmate to me. But tonight, it stole the show. The spotlight was upon this lone performer on its vast stage, swaying to its own sad song, playing its melody to soothe its own churning soul.

When I left, it was still singing. I left it as I found it, melancholy and alone. I breathed one last ocean breath and then, as soft as the wind stroking my hair, I made my way back to the restaurant.