Dear God,
Surround me as I speak,
The bridges that I walk across are weak
Frustrations fill the void that I can’t solely bear
Dear God,
Don’t let me fall apart
You’ve held me close to you
I have turned away and searched for answers
I can’t understand
They say that love can heal the broken
They say that hope can make you see
They say that faith can find a Savior
If you would follow and believe
never
ever
take a history subject again.
Those sneaky history department ding dongs very cunningly disguise one of their own and pass it off as a cultural studies module, thus subjecting me to an
infuriatingly
difficult
life-time-consuming essay.
I want to die.
And create history as being the first student to be tortured, mauled and left to rot by Subject 131-071.
Andy Warhol had some serious hoarding issues.
If you think Suet Beng is bad, you should see this guy.
Check out his Time Capsules exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria, March 16th-May 8th 2005.
Psycho.
they stand
familiar strangers armed with
weaponless ammunitions
the ricochets of fiction truces
blatant and purposeful
explode like bullets in a tin can
on this precipice of doubt
anxiety and fear corrode the senses
reticence
diffidence
she berates herself
with harsh justifications
and persuasive logic
it is simple, really
this l i b e r a t I o n
so why do the smiles leave
bitter after notes
she cannot help but notice
how worn her papercut heart looks.
In a huff of seething anger, she flung her jacket on the couch.
Only to have it fly out the partially opened window.
And onto a sixth floor beam.
You just had to laugh.
At the stupid white thing flapping in the wind
And at the incredulity of it all.
***
I’m thinking it’s going to be a while before I live this one down.
Feeling like Oscar the grouch.
I desperately need a hug.
Or a shopping spree.
