Happy Valentines 2015
Headphones or speakers at 1080p fullscreen. It feels different.
Erratic Behaviour
Saturday, 14 February 2015
Thursday, 12 February 2015
Japan
It's 8.30pm.
I can still see the blues and reds of the
evening skies,
The twilight piercing through a veil
of clouds.
Is it 8.30pm?
Erratic Behaviour
Monday, 9 February 2015
Literal
Two drops,
Of jujubes,
Reminds me of bears,
Who don't seem to care.
Chestnut dreams,
A wishing well.
In every lively,
Sleep walkers nightmare.
Erratic Behaviour
Sunday, 8 February 2015
Homebrew
Ginger shavings drift lazily,
Occasionally colliding,
Merging and assimilating,
Carbonated bubbles.
Erratic Behaviour
Friday, 6 February 2015
Friday, 30 January 2015
Smitten
Itty bitty lemon squeezy,
Ask a monkey for a story,
Preach a baby for a may-be,
Ring the number and ask for Kobe.
Erratic Behaviour
Tuesday, 27 January 2015
Laundry Day
There are days where you wake up with the sun
boring into your eyes, dust flickering around you, and the musty smell of
unwashed laundry.
Groggily, you'd clamber up from your bed, put on those pink bunny slippers mum got you last Christmas, and head outside.
It's a good day.
A sunny one.
You'd yawn a few times too many.
Lumbering back into your room, you'd collect the discarded pieces of clothing, letting your floor surface revel in fresh air once more.
Carrying all your dirty clothes in a heap between your arms, you hug it close to your chest and dive your face deep into it, breathing in, breathing deep.
Reminisce last week's odours and flavours.
Savour the moment.
Opening a new box of washing detergent, you'd chirp happily; knowing you bought the right variant this time around.
No more overflowing foamy soap bubbles. No more leaky pipes. No more rotting floorboards.
Ahh the satisfaction.
The pleasurable sensation of stuffing the washing machine like a Thanksgiving turkey, and the twinge of sadness in seeing all the past memories ingrained by sweat and the occasional blood and tears about to be tumbled and soaped into inexistence.
Closing the door, you hit 'START'.
It begins.
Groggily, you'd clamber up from your bed, put on those pink bunny slippers mum got you last Christmas, and head outside.
It's a good day.
A sunny one.
You'd yawn a few times too many.
Lumbering back into your room, you'd collect the discarded pieces of clothing, letting your floor surface revel in fresh air once more.
Carrying all your dirty clothes in a heap between your arms, you hug it close to your chest and dive your face deep into it, breathing in, breathing deep.
Reminisce last week's odours and flavours.
Savour the moment.
Opening a new box of washing detergent, you'd chirp happily; knowing you bought the right variant this time around.
No more overflowing foamy soap bubbles. No more leaky pipes. No more rotting floorboards.
Ahh the satisfaction.
The pleasurable sensation of stuffing the washing machine like a Thanksgiving turkey, and the twinge of sadness in seeing all the past memories ingrained by sweat and the occasional blood and tears about to be tumbled and soaped into inexistence.
Closing the door, you hit 'START'.
It begins.
Erratic Behaviour
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