Hic Sunt Dracones

the smylere with the knyf under the cloke

Posts Tagged ‘soul mate

Silence Sustenance

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Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky. We fell them down and turn them into paper that we may record our emptiness.

— Kahlil Gibran (1883–1931), Lebanese-born U.S. mystic, painter, and poet. Sand and Foam.

I feel empty. Not the vast emptiness of the deepest abyss. More of the silent landscape of the arching dunes. 

Dunes. Thus comes the complexity of spannungsbogen. The self-imposed delay between when one begins to desire something and when one attempts to achieve or acquire it.

Am I always the patient one? Acquiring worldly material with every wrought of blood, toil, tears and sweat. Praying of heaven forgiveness for every virtue withered in the solitude of the night with this fragile faith. The courtship that gone awry in the tide of time. Ethereal affection that’s nought of immortality.

What do one seek from a soul mate? Matrimonial commune? Sensual gratification? Mutual camaraderie? Shared vision? Psychological support?

If what I sought is mere discourse as a way to break the recourse of being reticence. Would she partakes with mutual ascension of sympathy or falls down to concession of apathy?

Am I under the notion of overwhelming expectation from her? That delayed response is her unforgiving retaliation against my intrusion into her wall of contentment.

Is it a waste of poetic breathe for every prose and verse gusting into that small gap of her wall. As the voice rang hollow between the opportunity. A nuisance more than something that used to evoke “her soul to heaven.”

I didn’t seek more than I can sought.

The act of futility is enough to plough through the end of servile intimacy.

Perhaps it become too monotonous with all the attention, that there’s no more gratification from physical rendezvous (tiring and tedious), a simple messaging (succinct word come with a terse reply) and verbal banter (muffled and distracted).

Provocation rises doubt, but I’ll always the one end up being pigeonholed as <insert narcissistic adjective here>.

If I’m bored of you, why do I feel the opposite?

Written by cthulhu

February 17, 2009 at 2:15 am

Who’s Gonna Save My Soul Now

A scene from Who’s Gonna Save My Soul? by Gnarls Barkley.

Well now that you have my heart I’m pretty much an empty cavity inside. For lack of a better term, heartless. I will now treat each woman I meet with a passive aggressive contentiousness that will ruin relationship after relationship for many years to come.

Baby D, you’re my new mate now. A freaking expensive one too with EFS 24-105mm L IS U kit.

Make love to me, Canon EOS 5D Mark II. But you’ll never be the subtitute of my soul mate.


I’m back on terra firma. Currently in Labuan after a few trip from Miri to KK, a day after 6 months being offshore. 

The port scenery is a welcoming view after months surrounded by the high seas and blue horizon.

The office back in KL was caught in fire yesterday. I’m glad no body is injured since it happened after office hour. Not sure about the property damaged and the extent of the losses. Only the 4th floor was on fire. The rest is ok.

I’m still stuck here, even at the end of the project. I’m anxiously waiting to get my flight ticket back “home”.

Someone is waiting for me.

Written by cthulhu

January 10, 2009 at 11:42 pm