iterum.seconds.

dinner at aggie's

the dinner went well. must say dom did a good jamie oliver, loved the mint sugar and ice cream thing. i always liked her place, despite it being an upstairs/downstairs kind of place. d brought the wife-to-be equipped with the bling-bling snug on her engagement finger. (or was it the wedding finger? can never differentiate this)

i think engaged people have this smug glow all over them.

and then the parade. i think it's funny how we could tell exactly what the next program was. ie. song/vip comes/song/bigger vip come or how there's always one guy in the freefall team that has to come down with the flag. even the presenters sounded like they were reading off last year's script.

little differences and highlights though:
1. the little kites that the cams got to do the zoom-in to catch, wats the point?
2. they bloody blew the budget on the fireworks.
3. the headmics seem to be faulty, they had to use the handheld to coordinate the wave. and i could barely hear the taufik fellow. or maybe thats just his talent.
4. rui en looked damn yummy.
5. the 2 little horns on the head of the minister guy due to the cam angle was hilarious.

halfway though everything, i found myself wondering how "that one" was doing. not in a gut-in-a-tight-knot kind of way but more of a musing kind of feeling since i couldnt decide what i felt just yet, (besides, i think any kind of decision made on my part would just murder the fun of the chase)

so i messaged her.

a mini greeting, sort of a "hi how u doing?" without the joey accent and the arching eybrow, so it doesn't come across as being sleazy. she replied, fast for what she wrote, a list of what she did that day in bullet form. excellent. so i made a joke, got a question in about something innocent, fired it back at her, then waited.

nothing.

i can't figure her. still/yet. hmmm. intriguing.


oh well.

i have been working on this for the longest time.

*****

Tomorrow morning

would be something else.
I would wake into my own at nine,
because the clocks would have failed,
and for unexplained reasons, my moblie
would refuse to sound, receive
or call.
The inbox would be empty. On every front.
There will be talk of this silence.
She will not be writing me of her happiness
how much infinitely bluer Brisbourne skies can be,
and that her money is running out
could I please be a dear
and send her more?
There’ll be no bills to collect.
A governmental break.
Tomorrow morning I would wake to a Sunday,
comtemplate church,
the 11 O'clock mass, celibacy
you,
the mobile, along with the work
that matches it,
how my mother moans me not giving
her enough money
how i don't know how to begin a sentence
with my father
and then today begins.

*****

somehow, my closure doesn't seem right.


listeningto: i will be released - the band and bunch of other rockheads
comprehension: easy rock ballad, and bob dylan sounds comprehensible, wow.

tryingtoread: daggerspell - katharine kerr
probability of completion: done before. just an easy book to sleep with

best line i read today: "The daylight oil, the heavier grade of Reason," - les murray, the dialectic of dreams