Dearest V,
I went out with someone today. She's an artist, drop dead gorgeous, has a tattoo on her arm, half French and makes good brownies. You should have seen the look on everyone's faces when they saw me with her. Fucking twats! Why does everyone make me out to be a druggie and all that. I'm just a good boy, who loves his mom and works his ass off to come up in life with the gift I have. So I don't shave sometimes and I wear linen clothes. But only because they're more comfortable. I wish people stop stereotyping so much.
It was fun to have some company. Cocktails at the Lighthouse, but all throughout, all I could do was wish you could be there. Semblances of you appear in everything, like shooting stars out of a night sky and they make you wish. Funny how I always spell 'wish' wrong the first time. I don't know what you're doing now, but I wish that there was a way to be there. I don't know where we are heading, but I know I'm lost. Everyday, the world fades, loses a little more colour. Till one day, all there is left is purple. The colour of hope. I'm too scared to think about a day like that. I miss you angel.
Yours always,
LD
Ps. I wish I could send you this letter, but they say you're happy, so I won't. I don't want to ruin anything for you. I really do hope you know what you're doing.
This is my first attempt at a novel. All writing is copyright to Lasantha David and cannot be taken or reproduced under any circumstances.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Chapter 2
"So, vut next cherie, what are you writing next?" she asked as she sipped on her Margarita. I always wondered how she ended up with that slight accent, especially since she's lived in Sri Lanka all her life. But I suppose it's because her Dad is an asshole and never there, and it's the mom who brings all 3 kids up alone. I have nothing but the utmost respect for that woman. "Two books actually, this all-island guide thing and what will be the most comprehensive book on Sri Lankan art". "Very nice, I want a copy of eat. Mamon will like eat". "I will make sure I give her a signed copy when I do give it out". I sip my Mojito. I like this bar, it's so warm and cozy, I wish that V was here an... "Will you take me to Colombo zumtime Devid? I want to walk one day on the Galle Face". "Sure, when I am free. I don't like going back to Colombo now anyway, hurts too much". Why the fuck did I just say that.."What, you mean ze travel?". "No, the people. How are the paintings coming? What's the theme this time?". I've always been good at changing the topic. But somehow, inside, it's a topic I didn't want to change. I wanted to talk about it. I have so many questions with no answers. I wish I co..."It's coming goot. This time will be more expensive, but not sure if it will sell". "Oh I'm sure it will". "Why, are you going to buy one?". "No, but we can exchange. My book, for your painting. Art for art. Sounds good yeah?". "I will tzink about it, or how about I exchange you for a painting?".
I wasn't really sure how to answer that. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to flirt. People told me to do this because apparently I would feel better. They were wrong. I didn't want to feel better, I just wanted to feel her. Sometimes giving into peer pressure is what ruins everything. Peers after all aren't perfect, they've made their mistakes too. We all have made our mistakes. But why listen to someone just as fallible as you? "Okay, maybe you're worth more tzan one painting". "Heh Heh, I'm flattered, aren't your paintings worth over 100k each?". She humbly shrugged her shoulders in a 'I don't know, what do you think' way. "So what happen to that guy who were seeing? From college". I just remembered, at J's party, the both of us were being made fun of for being in 'love'. And now 3 weeks later, we're sitting here with stories on our mind, someone else still in our hearts, the lines from no sleeping, under our eyelids. I feel like a shoe. Worn to get somewhere and left out in the rain. "Ee was an asshole. Thought he could push people around with ees muscles. I tzink tzat lampshade behind you as more brains tzan him. I don't know what I was thinking when we got together. Eat was okay for ze first few weeks and tzen I was just a trophy you know. I like to talk about tzings, he just like to kiss. I hear you're not like that". "Where have you heard these things?". "Someone". "Oh comon Nicole, who said what, this quite interesting". "Well, I can't tell you who, but I will tell you some, just a littel I av heard about you".
This was indeed interesting. I needed the ego boost too after all the shit I had been through. That is, if at all what's been said it good. If it is, God Bless whichever fucking big mouth couldn't keep his trap shut. "They told me about tzis woman at that night we couldn't come to, the launch. But I don't tzink it was ze same one that D was telling us about", "Am I right?" "Well, there was more than one woman at the launch" "Well oo was ze one you were holding afterwards?" "Oh, yeah that one" "She was ze one J was talking about, non, you running away in ze middle of work searching for scarves" "What has she told you?" "Eat is a petite town cherie, news is fast around ear" "I wouldn't really call it news" "Look at you. If you were fair, I'm sure your cheeks would be red right now that I've reminded you of that person in the boos pictures" "Nicole! You're drunk love" "And you're love drunk" "Nice turn phrase, I see you've learnt a thing or two from me" "You're so full of yourself" "You're so full of alcohol". And we laughed. It felt good to laugh again. But not as good as laughing with her. In fact, a lot of things didn't feel the same without her. Still don't. "You know tzat saying - if you love tzumthing, let eat go.." "Okay I know where you're going with that" and I cupped her mouth with my palm, she just looked at it and said I needed to cut my nails. "I lost my nail cutter some weeks ago". The night didn't work out as planned, it wasn't normal. Well, probably because Nicole and I weren't exactly 'normal' people. Then again, what is normal. Ah fuck that, too much thinking is bad for you. "Lets go have a smoke and go home" I said as I walked across the same spot where Candace Bushnell signed my GLF book.
The night was still young, but we were two old souls with our heads stuck in a different place. We sat in the car watching the coastline snake away into the hills in the distance as the light bulbs on them competed with the stars above while the moon pretended to shine. Nicole gazed out to the West, out into the open black of the night and ocean that danced beneath it. "Wouldn't it be eazier being a fish?" "Don't think it is any easier" "Why, we swim, and swim and swim, no one expects anytzing from you. You don't av to work so ard everyzay" "But there will be other fish out there who want to eat you and then there's the fisherman, and no facebook either" "Ah I do not use that rubbeesh. Life is a real thing. Real people meet face to face, like you and me. You can never trust what this people say" "Bad experience?" "Common sense" and we smiled. Funny how I can't smile without remembering her smile. "You need to eat more Devid" "Really? You think so, but the doctors told me I was overweight" "Go like this and I'll dump you in Sudan and they will think you one of tzem" "I try, but I haven't got an appetite" "I will force it, and lets go now, I ave to piss and don't tzink I'm allowed in tzese bathe-roomz after being caught making out in tzem" "Kinky" "I know, imagine if Mamon found out" and she winked at me. "You're too drunk to drive, lets catch a tuk, now hide behind that bush so they don't charge us the white price".
The way back was uneventful, I kept my distance. I did the same a few times with V as well. Lets hope that not everything turns out the same way it did with that, does too much damage at the end. But Nicole is different, she's stronger, knows what she is doing and she's someone who'll fight for something she loves. Maybe that's the French side of her, who knows. "I enjoeyed tzat Devid, I ope you go back to ze way you were when I met you" "I hope so too. Thanks for tonight".
This is my first attempt at a novel. All writing is copyright to Lasantha David and cannot be taken or reproduced under any circumstances.
I wasn't really sure how to answer that. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to flirt. People told me to do this because apparently I would feel better. They were wrong. I didn't want to feel better, I just wanted to feel her. Sometimes giving into peer pressure is what ruins everything. Peers after all aren't perfect, they've made their mistakes too. We all have made our mistakes. But why listen to someone just as fallible as you? "Okay, maybe you're worth more tzan one painting". "Heh Heh, I'm flattered, aren't your paintings worth over 100k each?". She humbly shrugged her shoulders in a 'I don't know, what do you think' way. "So what happen to that guy who were seeing? From college". I just remembered, at J's party, the both of us were being made fun of for being in 'love'. And now 3 weeks later, we're sitting here with stories on our mind, someone else still in our hearts, the lines from no sleeping, under our eyelids. I feel like a shoe. Worn to get somewhere and left out in the rain. "Ee was an asshole. Thought he could push people around with ees muscles. I tzink tzat lampshade behind you as more brains tzan him. I don't know what I was thinking when we got together. Eat was okay for ze first few weeks and tzen I was just a trophy you know. I like to talk about tzings, he just like to kiss. I hear you're not like that". "Where have you heard these things?". "Someone". "Oh comon Nicole, who said what, this quite interesting". "Well, I can't tell you who, but I will tell you some, just a littel I av heard about you".
This was indeed interesting. I needed the ego boost too after all the shit I had been through. That is, if at all what's been said it good. If it is, God Bless whichever fucking big mouth couldn't keep his trap shut. "They told me about tzis woman at that night we couldn't come to, the launch. But I don't tzink it was ze same one that D was telling us about", "Am I right?" "Well, there was more than one woman at the launch" "Well oo was ze one you were holding afterwards?" "Oh, yeah that one" "She was ze one J was talking about, non, you running away in ze middle of work searching for scarves" "What has she told you?" "Eat is a petite town cherie, news is fast around ear" "I wouldn't really call it news" "Look at you. If you were fair, I'm sure your cheeks would be red right now that I've reminded you of that person in the boos pictures" "Nicole! You're drunk love" "And you're love drunk" "Nice turn phrase, I see you've learnt a thing or two from me" "You're so full of yourself" "You're so full of alcohol". And we laughed. It felt good to laugh again. But not as good as laughing with her. In fact, a lot of things didn't feel the same without her. Still don't. "You know tzat saying - if you love tzumthing, let eat go.." "Okay I know where you're going with that" and I cupped her mouth with my palm, she just looked at it and said I needed to cut my nails. "I lost my nail cutter some weeks ago". The night didn't work out as planned, it wasn't normal. Well, probably because Nicole and I weren't exactly 'normal' people. Then again, what is normal. Ah fuck that, too much thinking is bad for you. "Lets go have a smoke and go home" I said as I walked across the same spot where Candace Bushnell signed my GLF book.
The night was still young, but we were two old souls with our heads stuck in a different place. We sat in the car watching the coastline snake away into the hills in the distance as the light bulbs on them competed with the stars above while the moon pretended to shine. Nicole gazed out to the West, out into the open black of the night and ocean that danced beneath it. "Wouldn't it be eazier being a fish?" "Don't think it is any easier" "Why, we swim, and swim and swim, no one expects anytzing from you. You don't av to work so ard everyzay" "But there will be other fish out there who want to eat you and then there's the fisherman, and no facebook either" "Ah I do not use that rubbeesh. Life is a real thing. Real people meet face to face, like you and me. You can never trust what this people say" "Bad experience?" "Common sense" and we smiled. Funny how I can't smile without remembering her smile. "You need to eat more Devid" "Really? You think so, but the doctors told me I was overweight" "Go like this and I'll dump you in Sudan and they will think you one of tzem" "I try, but I haven't got an appetite" "I will force it, and lets go now, I ave to piss and don't tzink I'm allowed in tzese bathe-roomz after being caught making out in tzem" "Kinky" "I know, imagine if Mamon found out" and she winked at me. "You're too drunk to drive, lets catch a tuk, now hide behind that bush so they don't charge us the white price".
The way back was uneventful, I kept my distance. I did the same a few times with V as well. Lets hope that not everything turns out the same way it did with that, does too much damage at the end. But Nicole is different, she's stronger, knows what she is doing and she's someone who'll fight for something she loves. Maybe that's the French side of her, who knows. "I enjoeyed tzat Devid, I ope you go back to ze way you were when I met you" "I hope so too. Thanks for tonight".
This is my first attempt at a novel. All writing is copyright to Lasantha David and cannot be taken or reproduced under any circumstances.
Chapter 1
I thought years ago, that God sends that someone your way and you get married and live happily ever after. What did I know, I was only 8 at the time and still able to walk around the house without someone shrieking about me not having any pants on. Much has changed since then, for better, for worse, more for worse actually. Gone are the days when Mamma would say "pray putha, and God will give you anything". He didn't. Even when all I asked for was her happiness. Does that mean she lied to me? Well maybe, I mean there was that time when I was 6 and started getting boners, she said "choo pirilla". So what. Some moms lie about Santa Claus and storks bringing children home, and about how she got that bruise on her face from 'falling down', even though it looks like Daddy's ring. There are things we need to know; some at the right time, and some, never. In the days when hormones spewed out of my glands like lava from an erupting volcano, I know there were times when I'd go off at her. I still shoot myself in the face when I think of those instances. She never deserved any of it.
Sitting on this rooftop watching as the horizon eats the sun and cold ocean thrusts at the shoreline like a copulating animal. Back and forth. Back and forth. One the raging tide, and the other, the delicate pristine sand, but for a moment too short, they are one, like lovers in embrace gazing into each other's eyes. But in a cloud of white froth, it is over. Funny thing about the ocean, it reminds me of me in this aspect. It always keep coming back, again and again, and again, relentlessly. But then again, the shore can't run away; women can. Ah, my cigarettes gone out. That's one thing I hate about the ocean, the breeze. So I light another one and take a look at the note I never gave her. Written on the back of an interview I did when writing my book, I always thought it was quirky to do that. I remember the time I asked her out, the letter before doing so was written on the back of a chemistry practical from back in school. This one stayed there folded and sombre, tainted in tears and the perfume sprayed on it. Funny how you give a person everything they asked for and yet you end up short, abandoned on an empty road in the night as a storm approaches. She just kept driving on. No second chances. No point holding onto this, I set fire to it with my new cigarette, which has also almost gone out! Watched it burn like I did my own life in those past few weeks.
I should stop thinking so much when I'm near the sea. But I can't help it, the song of the sea is like a siren to my mind, singing a sweet tune that calls and lures out my thoughts. Anyway, I can't stay longer, I hear the horn of that old Mini approaching, so I put on my trusty faded pair of Levis, probably the only thing that doesn't leave me, even if I asked it to. I head down the stairs and there she was sitting on the sofa, leaning her head back and smiling. Sure she was smiling, but I hadn't seen this smile before, it was a red smile, that's the only way I could describe it. Red was a colour I could associate with Nicole, her skin was golden. Her colour gave off a sublime warmth, in the same way a shaving light did. Of course she did, she was half French. "Hi". "Hey". I wasn't sure what to do there. I know with V I would always look at her like a blue-eyed boy, watch her as she walked towards me and then hug her tight. But hey, this was just the beginning, and could even be the end. We rubbed cheeks and smacked our lips. I never understood why people did that. The only person who would do it properly was D. She used to hold my face like a gentle lover about to make out, close her eyes and plant two on either cheek. She had a special way of doing things, I hope she's okay in the big world of NGOs out there. But forget that, they are not here, Nicole is and the destination is the Lighthouse and beyond. We got some glances on the way out of the Fort. Everyone knew Nicole. Everyone wanted to date her. I bet they were thinking how I ended up in the car with her. I mean I look just like them in ways with my linen attire. But I am no junkie and never will be. I'm a writer, motherfuckers!
"So Devid, ow was your de?". "It just got better. How was yours?". "Goot, and I av this filling it will get better". Was I supposed to smile for that? I don't know, but I did. And so did she. I don't know who I am these days. I hold onto who I knew I was. I miss V, really do. I wonder if she misses me. Little by little, we're getting lost. But it was no fault of mine. I didn't deserve it; I put up a fight to no avail. I wish th.. "Are you okay Devid? You look like a lost littel boy". I wanted to say, I am one, but then I would have to explain why. "No, it's just been a long week, I'm happy you came. Merci beaucoup. Et vous êtes un bon conducteur, Nicole". "Oh, tsank you, I hope you...". And the conversation went on as we made our way north along the A2 highway on which many of my emotions and thoughts have spilled.
This is my first attempt at a novel. All writing is copyright to Lasantha David and cannot be taken or reproduced under any circumstances.
Sitting on this rooftop watching as the horizon eats the sun and cold ocean thrusts at the shoreline like a copulating animal. Back and forth. Back and forth. One the raging tide, and the other, the delicate pristine sand, but for a moment too short, they are one, like lovers in embrace gazing into each other's eyes. But in a cloud of white froth, it is over. Funny thing about the ocean, it reminds me of me in this aspect. It always keep coming back, again and again, and again, relentlessly. But then again, the shore can't run away; women can. Ah, my cigarettes gone out. That's one thing I hate about the ocean, the breeze. So I light another one and take a look at the note I never gave her. Written on the back of an interview I did when writing my book, I always thought it was quirky to do that. I remember the time I asked her out, the letter before doing so was written on the back of a chemistry practical from back in school. This one stayed there folded and sombre, tainted in tears and the perfume sprayed on it. Funny how you give a person everything they asked for and yet you end up short, abandoned on an empty road in the night as a storm approaches. She just kept driving on. No second chances. No point holding onto this, I set fire to it with my new cigarette, which has also almost gone out! Watched it burn like I did my own life in those past few weeks.
I should stop thinking so much when I'm near the sea. But I can't help it, the song of the sea is like a siren to my mind, singing a sweet tune that calls and lures out my thoughts. Anyway, I can't stay longer, I hear the horn of that old Mini approaching, so I put on my trusty faded pair of Levis, probably the only thing that doesn't leave me, even if I asked it to. I head down the stairs and there she was sitting on the sofa, leaning her head back and smiling. Sure she was smiling, but I hadn't seen this smile before, it was a red smile, that's the only way I could describe it. Red was a colour I could associate with Nicole, her skin was golden. Her colour gave off a sublime warmth, in the same way a shaving light did. Of course she did, she was half French. "Hi". "Hey". I wasn't sure what to do there. I know with V I would always look at her like a blue-eyed boy, watch her as she walked towards me and then hug her tight. But hey, this was just the beginning, and could even be the end. We rubbed cheeks and smacked our lips. I never understood why people did that. The only person who would do it properly was D. She used to hold my face like a gentle lover about to make out, close her eyes and plant two on either cheek. She had a special way of doing things, I hope she's okay in the big world of NGOs out there. But forget that, they are not here, Nicole is and the destination is the Lighthouse and beyond. We got some glances on the way out of the Fort. Everyone knew Nicole. Everyone wanted to date her. I bet they were thinking how I ended up in the car with her. I mean I look just like them in ways with my linen attire. But I am no junkie and never will be. I'm a writer, motherfuckers!
"So Devid, ow was your de?". "It just got better. How was yours?". "Goot, and I av this filling it will get better". Was I supposed to smile for that? I don't know, but I did. And so did she. I don't know who I am these days. I hold onto who I knew I was. I miss V, really do. I wonder if she misses me. Little by little, we're getting lost. But it was no fault of mine. I didn't deserve it; I put up a fight to no avail. I wish th.. "Are you okay Devid? You look like a lost littel boy". I wanted to say, I am one, but then I would have to explain why. "No, it's just been a long week, I'm happy you came. Merci beaucoup. Et vous êtes un bon conducteur, Nicole". "Oh, tsank you, I hope you...". And the conversation went on as we made our way north along the A2 highway on which many of my emotions and thoughts have spilled.
This is my first attempt at a novel. All writing is copyright to Lasantha David and cannot be taken or reproduced under any circumstances.
Funny how
Funny how people ask for a good lovin' but when you give them that, they just run away. It's hard to fathom why, but like all things to do with female variables in a situation, you just say "Ah, women", and life goes on. But somehow, that isn't right. I mean we're way past the days when women weren't allowed to vote and all that, we're almost equal now so why should it be a woman's prerogative and if indeed, this 'equality' is achieved, then there be no need for chivalry. Hopefully, some of us are the last of this breed, there is nothing emotionally profitable about being chivalrous.
Funny how time and time again, the lesson of don't give too much, you won't get the same back never sticks to me. But I guess I'm wired to lose that way. There is no win in that situation, just the inner content that you haven't done wrong, but what does content do? Not like it can replace the warmth and smell of a loved one who has left your life unexplained. Oh well, the lesson then is to drink and expect a hangover. When the poison flows through your blood, you feel good. Same as the love flowing through, you feel good. But when that goes, you just feel like Big Mamma sat on you. But the difference there is with drinking you don't remember the in between, but in love you do. And rather funnily, you drink to forget that.
Funny how much damage a single person acting fucked up for a single few minutes can do. But like all things mundane, I suppose there ain't no point watering the dead plant. Unless you have a trust fund, life is like walking up a downward bound escalator. The moment you stop moving forward, you start going down back.
Funny how time and time again, the lesson of don't give too much, you won't get the same back never sticks to me. But I guess I'm wired to lose that way. There is no win in that situation, just the inner content that you haven't done wrong, but what does content do? Not like it can replace the warmth and smell of a loved one who has left your life unexplained. Oh well, the lesson then is to drink and expect a hangover. When the poison flows through your blood, you feel good. Same as the love flowing through, you feel good. But when that goes, you just feel like Big Mamma sat on you. But the difference there is with drinking you don't remember the in between, but in love you do. And rather funnily, you drink to forget that.
Funny how much damage a single person acting fucked up for a single few minutes can do. But like all things mundane, I suppose there ain't no point watering the dead plant. Unless you have a trust fund, life is like walking up a downward bound escalator. The moment you stop moving forward, you start going down back.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
In this arena there is no coming back
These days fall like rain washing away the blood
As it did on the beaches of Normandy 1944
Like gladiators we fight here; blood, sand and mud
Will Missio be given or the blades of our actions
Cut through our attractions and spill our guts
Whose feelings were the mistakes that led us here.
Do we wield our swords in hope, or anger, or fear?
Do you trust your judgment to make the final thrust?
Will it bring your mind the peace of spring
Or will a blizzard of winter descend on tomorrow
Might the end spell happiness or sorrow?
Can we move on and get back on track?
For in this arena, there is no coming back.
As it did on the beaches of Normandy 1944
Like gladiators we fight here; blood, sand and mud
Will Missio be given or the blades of our actions
Cut through our attractions and spill our guts
Whose feelings were the mistakes that led us here.
Do we wield our swords in hope, or anger, or fear?
Do you trust your judgment to make the final thrust?
Will it bring your mind the peace of spring
Or will a blizzard of winter descend on tomorrow
Might the end spell happiness or sorrow?
Can we move on and get back on track?
For in this arena, there is no coming back.
Ouch
I'm genuinely scared now. Chest it tightening up and it's hard to breathe. I don't want to trouble anyone but this is getting bad. I don't know what's going on but this pain is getting worse. This could even be the last thing I write. Goodbye.
2 weeks
It's been an interesting two weeks, a tiring 2 weeks, a dreaded 2 weeks. My head has been stuck in the same place focused on that one thing at times, and at other times all over the place focused on that one thing. If there is any positive in it, it s that it has shown me the people who care about me; genuinely, truly, boundlessly. If it weren't for them, I might not be alive, I wouldn't have eaten, I might not have even given this another try and resolve to keep trying.
Even if I collected all the tears that fell in gratitude when I think about the things they have done for me and the ways they have taken care of me, and turned it into money and still can't pay back their kindness for that's priceless, even the littlest of gestures. Overwhelming in more ways than one these days have been. Even now I'm as sick as shit, but I'm not going to take any medicines. I'm preparing to fight for something, no time to sit back and reply on chemicals.
Let my will be my medicine, let my friends love be my strength and let my weathered ways be my guide to the days ahead.
Even if I collected all the tears that fell in gratitude when I think about the things they have done for me and the ways they have taken care of me, and turned it into money and still can't pay back their kindness for that's priceless, even the littlest of gestures. Overwhelming in more ways than one these days have been. Even now I'm as sick as shit, but I'm not going to take any medicines. I'm preparing to fight for something, no time to sit back and reply on chemicals.
Let my will be my medicine, let my friends love be my strength and let my weathered ways be my guide to the days ahead.
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