El Maximus Disgustus

"..deliver us,
from ewill..

Dear lonely isle,

Sometimes I think someone up there doesn't like me.
And I'm not talking about anything who lives in the attic. With the water tank.

• Cockroaches are not my thing.
• I don't know if they're anybody's thing, but they're certainly NOT mine.
• Hell, I'm freaked by the beastly things. (And anything with more than 4 legs, actually)
  
• And I have to produce some for tomorrow's peka. At least three.
• Me. Catch roaches.
  
• Some words don't go together.
• Why do they exist? (If they didn't, I wouldn't have to catch them.)
• And then, if they do exist, why are they extinct now? (When I need them!)
• Why oh why is there a Murphy's Law??
• When you don't need them, they're everywhere.
• When you do, you can't even find a leg.
• Damn the little suckers.
• Linguistic geniuses. (Even if you speak in Hokkien they know you're after them.)
• Hell, they're not even fooled by reverse psychology! (Believe you me, I know, I've tried.)
• So guess I'll be staying up tonight. In the kitchen. With a net.
• Yeah right. If you'll believe that. (Mind you, some people will believe anything.)
• Anyways, I'd like to send a message of thanks to Chee Wei & Cheng Choo.
• Without them, I'd be in the fields, or in some drain, catching insects.
• Thank god for cheerleaders! (Who despite cheer practice (what, 24/7?) still have time to hunt for insects. Kudos for the brave people =))
• They should be commended for their bravery in extreme peril (Them roaches/grasshoppers are dirty insects k? Probably coated with tons of germs) and given medals of honour (For their service to the community).
• And thanks again, for the fact that I'm don't have to and won't have to crawl around in the fields, or in some drain, catching insects.

Amen.

love, joyce.

Lament Of Loss

"..we never appreciate what we have,
till it slips from our grasp.."

Dear lonely isle,

This is a lament, for a week's loss. A loss greater than I thought.

Our meeting, as chance hath seemeth fit to arrange, was beauty beyond splendour. Memories of thee that day still haunt my waking hours, filling mine heart with loss beyond comprehension. Pain is all that fills me.
I walk the lonely halls, now empty without thy touch. Thy absence doth rend me apart, for I doth long to see thee and be with thee as I had. Thou art a painting, of which hath been taken from me. No longer do thy beauty grace mine abode, alas, the days are as bare as empty canvas.
Oft times, I cursed the day thou cameth into mine life, for had I never felt thy presence, I would never mourn thy absence.
But to be granted an audience with thee, though short it may seem, hath fill me with knowledge I cannot even fathom. Thy wisdom, truly, surpasses the known world.
But what is time to a steadfast heart? For be I broken or be I whole, I shall await thee. In silence, darkness, come hail or sleet, my lifeless body shall still await, for even in death I will not fail thee.
Perhaps, maybe just, I leave a faint glimmer, a tiny ray of hope, that thou shalt one day return to me. Return to me as thy had, and we shall be as one once more.
Alas, hope is but a dying wish unfulfilled, as I face each day without thee. Thy shadows lurk beyond mine reach, forever mocking me with thy playful banter.
O return to me, I beseech thee!

Lord, thank you for enabling my Streamyx.

love, joyce.

Someday, My Sleep Will Come...

"..I wish, o I wish,
to sleep.."

Dear lonely isle,

• I'm afraid I'm getting weird (What do you mean I am weird??).
• Despite popular belief, I am not weird.
• I'm becoming weird.
• But that's beside the point.
• The point is, this sleeping queen is not getting her daily fix.
• And not taking her medication at the proper time.
• I just don't get it.
• I can't sleep at night.
• And I end up sleeping when I'm NOT supposed to.
• Like in school.
• Like in the afternoon.
• It's a chain reaction.
• Initiation step: Ternapped last last night ---> creating free radicals of sleepy molecules (that cause me to feel sleepy at the wrong time)
  
• Propagation step: End up napping in school and in the afternoon ---> cause of not able to sleep again at night ---> creating even more free radicals of sleepy molecules
• And so on and so forth it goes...until one free radical meets and collides with another.
• But before that, one existing free sleepy molecule radical is able to continue disrupting normal sleeping times, causing inability to study, pay attention in class and etc. etc.
• The problems caused are unspeakably horrifying (woe is me).
• We have got to do something about this.
• Consider it being civic minded, or as your public duty (when have you last conributed to society?).
• "YOU ARE MY FRIEND TOO"
  
• If in any way, you have discovered a way to stop this pollution of lethargicness and save me,
• Contact me at : 0122472761
• If I am not replying you, I'm probably asleep (for best results, please message at night).
• Help me help me.
• Before I turn into a nocturnal being.
  
• It's not too late.
  

Thank you for your cooperation.

love, joyce.

*this is a joyce service reminder from joyce.*

I Stand Alone

"..I share my world with no one else,
all by myself,
I stand alone.."

Dear joyce,

I am alone.
Unlike your world of friends and laughter, I am alone.

I live in eternal darkness, ever waiting for the sun to shine.
But it does not.
The sun does not rise on my everlasting night.

I wait in darkness, ever watching for the stars.
But they do not appear.
Stars do not cover my night sky.

I sit in despair, ever hoping for a reason to smile.
But I don't.
I don't know how.

I long for the warmth of love, reaching out for human faith.
But it is desolate.
Barren wasteland, as far as my eyes can see.

I seek in darkness, the way home.
But there is none.
I am home.

I search for laughter, ever hoping to hear it.
But only echoes sound.
And the mocking voice in my head.

I wish in darkness, for dreams to come true.
But visions they remain.
And broken they lie.

I stay in darkness,
now, always, forever.
I am alone.

always, lonely isle.

Insomnia-Free Life: Sleeping Anywhere, Anytime.. For Lessons, Contact Me

"..I wanna be under the comforter,
safe, snug, warm, and blissfully asleep.."

Dear lonely isle,

Lord, I'm tired.

• Fell asleep last night doing biology notes (note: do not listen to Sarah McLachlan, Jewel and Josh Groban when studying.).
• Ended up napping at 10 pm.
• Woke up at 10.45 pm. (absolutely ruined my night. Note: when falling asleep at night, do not wake up till next morning.).
• Went downstairs for supper. Milo finished, so opened a new tin.
• Big, heavy, full Milo tin slipped off my fingers as I was replacing it on the shelf.
  
• Bloody tin banged my shoulder on the way down.
  
• Thank god the tiles didn't crack, but tin was dented (take that! You stoopid tin!)
• Continued notes until 2.00 am.
• Couldn't sleep, so messaged Yu Kit. Fell asleep at 3.45 am (Note: no naps before sleeping.).
• Today almost died in class.
• Tried pinching myself to stay awake, but fell asleep still pinching myself (do not underestimate the power of the human will to sleep).
• Got up for tuition at 4.40 pm. Ann Gee came at 4.45 pm. (talk about timing.)
• Wanted to pig out on Christine's jam, but couldn't (fuck fuck fuck).
• Consequences : Super lethargic during tuition, brain working on minimal capacity, could only register words (I was having math tuition) and people who spoke loudly (Ben).
• Note: make sure jam is always in possesion for emergencies (like school).

You know what? It's time for bed...
Oh fuck....

Maths homework.

love, joyce.

Ps: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIP VOON!!!!!

Growing Moss

"..a drop falls,
and twin channels run south,
but still the sky is blue,
as rain falls from her eyes.."

Dear lonely isle,

Why do we cry?
What makes the tears fall? Is it that which make us human? Is it because we feel?
Then I do not wish to feel.
To feel hollow, empty, and void. To feel a stabbing pain that echoes in my heart, to feel it yet over and over again.
I do not wish to feel.
What is it when you cry every night? When your sleep is lulled by silent sobs, and the world slumbers on?
What is it when you cry alone, when nobody sees, when nobody hears? Why do you cry in silence? Why do you cry hidden from the world?
Why do you cry yourself to sleep?
Why do we cry?
Why do we feel this way? Pain. Pain. More pain. And so on, it goes, and endless cycle. Screaming out to be heard, to be saved, but all is silent, save for sobs buried in the pillow.
I do not wish to feel.
I do not wish to water my damp pillow, or to cultivate moss.
I do not want to cry. Anymore.
I hope to run out of tears, but every night proves me wrong.
I should be happy, indeed I am laughing. But away from the world, I tend to my garden.
I am not unhappy, yet every night I cry tears of sorrow.
I am not wanting, yet every night speaks of lost dreams and desires.
I am not alone, I know of this, yet every night I feel loneliness like a sharp knife. I cry myself to sleep.
But why?

Indeed, I do not wish to feel.

love, joyce.

Broken Dreams

"..I spread my dreams beneath your feet,
tread softly,
for you tread on my dreams.."

Dear lonely isle,

I told you not to step so hard.
But maybe some things were meant to be broken. Perhaps dreams were just not meant to be.
Perhaps.
But have you ever woken up wishing that you were still dreaming, because that would mean that the dream was reality and that reality is now the dream, a bad dream that you would wake from and everything would be okay again?
But somehow, it just doesn't seem to happen.
Many things just don't seem to happen. So we learn to live with reality.
Always, when I happen to ask myself, "Am I dreaming?",
Usually I am. Because I wake up, into stark, cold, and harsh reality. Where I happen to live.
I seek salvation in dreams, delving into the comfort of the mind to conjure up what I lack in life. Maybe that's why I have such pleasant dreams. But then, someone steps too hard.
Some things were probably made to be in pieces. Too bad they happen to be my dreams. The destruction of your sanctuary is a blow to the heart, of immense pain you can't describe.
But you feel it. And you expect to see the hilt of the sword sticking out, the thrust straight and true. And feel the blood forming a puddle around your feet. So you look down.
But there's nothing there.
Like your dreams, once again, you've been fooled. Believing in a false reality, in false security. Believing the lies your mind creates around you.
But what is man without salvation from his fears? Where do you go when last hope fails? What do you do when your journey reaches a dead end?
Do we turn back? Or jump from the cliff? Or wait for the search party to find you, and lead you back to the roads you know? But what if they never come? What if you call out to saved, and no one answers?
Or do we walk ahead, sure and certain that a bridge lies hidden? But then we would fall. Because there is none, save the voice in your head, and the images in your mind.

But that's where I live.

love, joyce.

yummy

I Told You So..

"..though I've tried,
I've fallen,
I've sunk so low,
I've messed up.."

Dear lonely isle,

Told ya. I did. I really did, but no, you wouldn't listen.
Why is it that things seldom go out the way we want them to? Why is it that we tend to feel little pangs of regret in the decisions we make? Will I ever be able to say that I've never regretted anything I've ever done?
What is it when we are haunted by past visions? Why must we be tormented? Why can't I make up my mind?
And why, why, are things past, remain past? Why is it that we only get to choose once in life? What happened to second chances?
Why am I ALWAYS tormented with 'What if ?' ?
You know what? Enough with the whining.

Fuck, I'm tired.

love, joyce.

I'll fly to the moon and back, if you'll be my baby..

HOT...

Burn Baby, Burn..

"..like the deepest pits of hell,
he scorches with a touch,
and torches with a stare,
with flames of the nether around his shoulders,
he strides through ashes falling from the sky.."

Dear lonely isle,

Today I went to watch Batman Begins. *yay* =P
And I realise...

• It's the best Batman movie yet.
• Christian Bale is HOT.
• Everything about him is HOT.
• He is gorgeous (especially half naked. top half naked btw)
• He makes running around dressed up as a bat COOL (I wanna be Batman too....).
• Flying around on bat-like wings is COOL (Upon my oath I am not a lying person, this is true...).
• My new dream is to marry Bruce Wayne.
• I wanna buy hotels, and swim in the fountains...(with Bruce, duh)
  
• Dear Tobey, consider yourself dethroned for the moment...(I know, I'm ashamed of myself...I will reinstate you soon, and the both of you will be on par, but for now...Batman is HOT)
• (Sorry, where was I? Oh yeah...) Christian Bale is HOT.
• Forgive me, Johnny, Orlando, Keanu, Daniel, Brad, (erm, am I forgetting anyone?) and all the other Royal Handsomenesses, consider yourself, er, temporarily displaced....I'm renovating the altar....you guys will be reinstated er, later.
  
• I now convert to the solo worship of Christian Bale (hottest guy ever).
• Batman Begins is the best batman movie yet.
• Go watch it.
• Please take me with you.
• I promise I won't go into seizures....again (I swear, Haz).
• Batman rocks! (yea Ann Gee? =P this is why I've been watching ALL these years...if only all the previous ones had been HIM too...)
• Christian Bale IS HOT.
• Take my word for it. Watch the show.
  
• And take me with you.

Please? I'll be good.
I promise.

love, joyce.

Of Orchids, Batman and Ironicness

"..we live,
and we learn.."

Dear lonely isle,

'Where there's a will there's a way'. Or so they say. It's about luck really, and generosity. So whenever something happens, rest assured it's lady luck smiling on you and some generous soul nearby to lend a hand.

• really, who knew orchids were extinct?
• and again, that generous people were not?

I always thought it was the other way around.
Shows that the world can still surprise you, when you least expect it.

well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
when you think everything's okay and everything's going right
and life has a funny way of helping you out when
you think everything's wrong and everything blows up in your face
and isn't it ironic?

No one says it better than Alanis.
And secondly, there's just some stuff I better say now, before I chicken out later.

• I'm sorry, for being such a pig just now.
• I should have behaved better, but I didn't.
• It's none of your fault and I shouldn't have lepas geram on you guys or anything.
• I'm ashamed of myself.
• And again, I'm sorry,
• I'm sorry,
• And I'm sorry,

Thank god also for friends, because only they will put up with you, regardless of how immature and selfish you may be. And for that I'm grateful for both; friends and being put up with.

I know what it's like to look at my sour face. And other people need not see it.
I should have kept it to myself.

love, joyce.

ps: sorry it came out the way it did..I'm not very good at apologising. So I hope you take it as it is and not as how it sounds or how it came out, or, er..you know what I mean right? And, if there were two things it could mean, I meant the nicer one.

Stuff You Learn...

Dear lonely isle,

Did you know?

• I want to watch Batman Begins.
• One of the Important People in my life has never watched any of the Batman movies before.
• My IQ is 110.
• Based on my mentality, I should be 20.
• According to how I live my life, I should die by the age of 76.
• My Star Wars pickup line is "Hey! Did you just grab my ass from across the room with your Force Grip?"
• My Amazing Yoda Sex Line is "Do me or do me not-there is no try."
  
• My Star Wars Horoscope, against all evidence, says that I most resemble C3Po (come on, everyone KNOWS I'm the lean, mean, asthmatic-breathing killing machine).
• My Sexy Brazilian name is Maryeva Pires.
• That the chances I'll go to hell is 14%.
  
• That I'm 60% normal (really normal).
• That I was born in the Year of The Rabbit, but i really should have been born in the Year of The Rabbit (goes to show, some things were made for you).
• That my brain is 46.67% female and 53.33% male (hmm....I'm a guy now?).
• That I have fantastic karma.
• I really really want to watch Batman Begins (guys, *hint* *hint* *wink* *wink*)
  
• That Someone really hasn't watched a SINGLE Batman movie.

Neither did I.

love, joyce.

Really Ann Gee, shame on you...

White Flag

"..it's the hardest thing to say,
I'll miss your love in every day.."

Dear lonely isle,

It's true. Eventually, inevitably, and somehow, we end up alone. We started off alone, so it's only natural we leave alone. And so on, it comes back to haunt me. Despite how things are now, I am rest assured how they will be later on. We end up alone, eventually.
Everywhere we turn, people are leaving. They go off in search of a better future, furthering studies and maybe, who knows, a better life. Somewhere without me.
I hope always, and pray too, that they might come back. That one day, some one will knock on my door, and it'll be them. And things will be as they used to. But somehow, it's just never the same.
But then why? Why do we form attachments knowing that one day such bonds will break, weakened by time, distance and circumstances? Why do we rise knowing we will fall? Why do we pursue the bird that one day flies away?
Maybe it's because some things, temporary as it may be, would still mean something years from now, when sight is blurred and hearing dimmed, maybe we'll look back and these memories will bring a smile. Maybe on days when we feel all the years we have lived, and realised that it has been a lifetime, we look across the room, and realise that we are not alone.
'Till death do us part', means that one of us will end up alive, and alone.
So we return once again to the inevitable fact: We end up alone, eventually.
Because despite how many 'maybes' we can conjure up, the reality is, we are alone.
Not now, perhaps. But who can say what tomorrow's winds will bring, and of their tidings?
There are many things I can't change, and fewer still that I know, and then again, much that is beyond me. But even though I may regret bonds I make today, right now, they are the lifeline that anchors me to shore, the fragile rope that hauls my ship to safety, always.
One day though, this ship will stand alone, and she will raise a flag. And the proud banner will ride the winds, over and over, till only a whisper remains. But still it will say, in words faded and torn, a silent plea to faded faces,

'I miss you'

love, joyce.

Sunday Morning

"..love is for fools,

who live in better dreams.."

Dear lonely isle,

But for the rest of us, we have family,

and we have friends.

love, joyce.

Once Upon A Time...

"..I do not attempt to unravel dreams,
they unravel me.."

Dear lonely isle,

When I was napping today I had the weirdest dream. It goes like this...

My father and I never stay in one place for long. We're always moving. He takes an interest in all things out of the ordinary and wherever odd things are happening, that's where you'll find us.
My father's rather unusual line of work takes us to a rather remote kingdom this time. It's a small country, and their king just recently died. What's odd is that the king was murdered, and there was no successor to the throne. I mean, not even next of kin, or an able minister with a motive. Everywhere we turn, we meet dead ends.
The king's will states that all his possesions, even his throne, goes to his gardener, a rather cute face who does odd jobs around the palace. Things were definitely not making much sense here, and my father was in the thick of things. As in, he was really feeling thick, so did the rest of us. This was weird.
But it gets weirder. The king's last wishes are that his kingdom be sealed away, his palace in the middle of a forest of thorns, so that it'd be unreachable to all. And the new king, the gardener, was to be with the kingdom too. Okay, so now who do we listen to, the new king or the old king?
The new king, or the gardener as we should say, was a rather simple and innocent guy. Even though looks can be deceiving, I was rather sure, will or otherwise, this WAS NOT the murderer.
The only possible suspect to me was a blond pale guy who always wore black. He was the king's butler and he had sad blue eyes. I know I know, the butler did it, you say. But something didn't quite fit. The king treated the butler well, and had no past grudges held against him. Once again, I wished I was an entire C.S.I. team (if only Ann Gee was here. Her skills of expertise in the area would have been greatly appreciated.) .
On the king's funeral, it was a pretty dark and stormy night, suitable for dramatic endings and mysterious happenings. We were all gathered in the tiny church that held the king's lifeless form, and the gardener (the new king really) was outside in the adjoining cemetery digging a grave. I know, it's weird.
So we were all there, and I was standing near the window, watching the gardener. He looked sad, as he shovelled land out of the hole which was to be king's final resting place. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, and the tree fell on him!
We rushed out to his aid, but it was too late. The gardener was out cold, and a quick check by the palace physicians prooved that he will remain in coma for the rest of his life.
Now we have two incapacitated kings, and no successor to the throne. I was just about to suggest that they give up monarchy and adopt democracy or something, when a cry of anguish breaks out in the crowd. The butler was crying in a crumpled heap upon the floor, shaking.
Later on, he confessed his to his crimes of killing the king. It seems, there was a reason why the old king never got married. He was in love with the gardener.
As to why he's last wishes were so, I guess all's fair in love and war. He wanted to keep the gardener to himself even after death, out of the prying hands of his butler, who also loved the gardener.
So the butler was banished, and the castle and the country and the comotose gardener was sealed up in a forest of thorns, forever isolated from the world.
And every night, a blond figure, all in black, would ride to the forest edge and wait forlornly, for a love forever out of reach.

I guess, crimes of passion, never did make any sense, and the fact of a love triangle between three guys does not help. Sorry to have wasted your time, for those who read it and wished they didn't, and sorry for those who're disgusted cos I have sick dreams.

Honest, I never thougnt nothing of that sort, ever.

love, joyce.

Aren't I a bad, bad girl?

I need a hug...as always 

Ghost In The Mirror

"..I held the pieces of my soul,
I was shattered,
and I wanted you to make me whole.."

Dear lonely isle,

Just recently I looked in the mirror and the person who looked back was not a person I recognise. The more I stared, the more I realised the person I see is not someone I want to be.
But that's me.
This person is a selfish, self-centred bitch and I wish I could throw a brick at her.
But that's me.
I don't like what I see in the mirror. I see a reflection of myself, and like a once peaceful lake I have always believed in, suddenly turned stagnant, ugly, devoid.
But that's me.
I want to scream at that person and tell her to go to hell, but I do not.
Because that's me.
I want to bring back the spark in my life, the twinkle in my eye, the warmth of my heart, the love in my soul, but only barren wasteland stretches before me. I see emptiness and dirt and dust and pollution.
But that's me.
I want to go home, to the place and person I know, but the road upon I look is cold, unknown. I set down the path, but soon I am lost. The trail leads to nowhere. A cliff at the finishing line. A deep inviting chasm. It speaks of salvation, forgiveness and absolution. I look back. It's dark and shadows seep into every corner.
But that's me.
Reaching out into the void once more I travel, only to find myself looking in the mirror again. Come back to where you are. I turn. Behind me is a figure, of lost and broken dreams, of sorrow and woe. She holds out a hand. Her sad eyes betray her emotions.
But that's me.
Everytime I look in the mirror I see me. The person I was, the person I am, the person I long to be. This time I see something I wish I wasn't.

But that's me.

love, joyce.

Have You Seen Me? I'm Missing...

"..heaven is
when you find yourself.."

Have you seen me?
I happen to be lost.
I am wearing

• a broken heart
  
• a tattered pride
  
• a torn soul
  
• open wounds.
  

I was last seen

• at the crossroad between Sanity and Madness, jumping into the ditch of Hell.
• singing "I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing"
• crying.

If you find me

• hold my hand
• tell me it's ok
• hold me
• lead me home.

God bless the broken road,
that led me straight to you.

love, joyce.

Insecure

"..to love is
to know, cherish, and follow,
without fear, doubt, or question.."

Dear lonely isle,

There are many times when I feel as if I don't recognise my own life anymore. Times when I feel that my world is spinning out of control. And most of the time, it is because I feel I don't know the people around me anymore. The people around me are those that shape my world, so when I get lost in the midst of strangers, I am truly lost.
But such is not the fault of my life's sculptors, it is my fault and mine alone. To put my life in their hands and depend on them for familiarity of surroundings each time I'm washed to shore is foolishness. Every man must stand for himself and find meaning of his own life, is it not so?
But the world is a scary place to be on your own, to be able to stand by yourself, unshaken, against the wave of mankind is a brave thing to do. And it seems, I am not brave enough. I hide behind my wall of familiarity and shy behind my fortress of love for the people in my life.
However, even hidden from the world I still have to face the changes of my tiny paradise. I now understand that everything changes with the tide of time, eventually. The question is, it is for the better, or for the worse?
Even so, for better or worse, every change is a new wound I must learn to live with yet again. It seems my life is a long series of fresh stabs. But such is the way of life, is it not?
When we love and care for someone, we wish to be there for them, in good times as well as bad, even if those times are like writhing in hell for us. Because these are the people who drive us, who inspire us to be more than we are, the people who teach us to give more than we can. And every time we think we are spent, there always seems to be just a little further we can reach, a bit more we can do.
Perhaps now, I am not so afraid of change as I was before, and maybe the world isn't so dark as it appears to be the last I looked. I can now see rays of light, previously shadowed by my doubts and unfounded fears.
'When you love someone let them go, because love isn't kept under glass'. It took me a long time to learn that, and maybe now I can have peace of mind. And perhaps, just perhaps, I am finally able to let go of people that I've spent a long time clinging on to, to let them wonder and explore, sure and confident in the bond that connects us. The bond that has always been there, that I've failed to see all this while.

The only love we keep is the love we give away.

love, joyce.

Star Wars: Episode III 1/2...

"..and unimpeded, unhindered, and unstoppable,
he comes forth,
striding like the apocalypse into our midst.."

Dear Padme,

It's been awhile since I've last wrote you, and I apologise. I had to replace all my fingers as the previous ones gave me little electronic jolts after I've used the Force one too many times.
I'm still trying to get used to this suit. It tends to be stiff at joints and after the third pair of knees only was I able to sit. His Royal Highness, the Emperor also known as Darth Sidious the Hideous (HRH, tE aka DStH), had recently installed a new panel of buttons on my chest plate. It comes with a wide array of special effects, which I suspect is a thoughtful gesture from HRH, tE, aka DStH. Also included is my 'Darth Vader Theme Song' and 'Special Asthmatic Breathing', the latter which I plan to have another button likeso installed on my palm (to avoid awkward moments of poking at my chest in the middle of a conversation). No longer having a handsome face and once agile limbs has proven difficult for me to command the respect of my minions. And as I have said many times before, HRH, tE aka DStH, is a thoughtful man, though not necessarily the Father of Bright, Workable and Effective Ideas. He believes that with this new panel I am able to impress my minions and make Grand Entrances once more, and not to mention, broadcast to an entire parade ground with the internal subwoofers (with added bass) included on my waist. However, it is Not The Same.
I am given my own meditation chamber, something of a blessing (once again, another kind gesture of HRH, tE, aka DStH) as now I am able to take off my helmet in privacy. I suppose HRH, tE, aka DStH thinks it will keep me sane, as I am not used to wearing a bucket on my head All The Time. I have noticed also, that the personal guards I command have recently taken to wearing helmets of the same design as mine (only that theirs look even more like buckets). It seems too, another decree from HRH, tE, aka DStH has them all clad in black. It is but another subtle gesture of HRH, tE, aka DStH, to help me fit in with the others, so that I do not feel so much of an outcast. HRH, tE, aka DStH, is trying his best, but somehow, it is still Not The Same.
He has his heart in the right place, though I cannot say the same for myself. I am not entirely sure if I have a heart, but I have high hopes that I am positive, though I cannot say for sure where it is. HRH, tE, aka DStH could have had it commisioned to be in my left foot, for all I know, so as to make me truly invincible, save for my Achilles Heel. For, if I have no heart, how is it that I still feel for you? How is it that some parts of me ache at the thought of you no longer here? In me I hear echoes of your voice, bouncing off various electronic body parts, as I face each night alone. I am desolate, hollow without you (which accounts for the echoes, I think), and it seems that I will live for a very long time (what with exchangeble and upgradeable spare parts).
I have spent my whole life learning about Life's Vital points and how to apply them in combat, yet I have forgotten to apply them to myself on that fateful battle with Obi. Obi. Mentor, friend, and now foe. Yes, how I hate him so, for leaving me when he could have granted me the mercy of decapitation. Even now I still feel the wounds of seared flesh, and it seems I will continue to feel them for the rest of my days. As an afterthought, I have decided that if I were to die one day, I would NEVER EVER want to be cremated. In fact, I would be most grateful to the person who chooses a great body of water to dump me in as my final resting place. One of these days I must really get down to Writing a Will of Sorts, more of Last Instructions, maybe. And put it in my heel, with my heart, so that it will be safe.
The alarm in my chamber alights, and I must go. Smiting rebels is a major part of my job nowadays. So, with a heavy heart I have to conclude this letter.
Even though you will never read these letters that I write to you everyday, yet somehow they keep the part of me that loves you alive, the man in this machine alive. And even though you will never hear these words again, still,

I love you.

Always, Anakin.

The Listener

"..if I break,
I know,
he will not forsake.."

Dear lonely isle,

This is for the silent supporter in my life,
The one who sees it it all, hears it all, and is all.

Thank you,
for the times I felt small,
you gave me courage to stand tall.

Thank you,
for nights I cried,
for being there, by my side.

Thank you,
for moments I despair,
for showing me someone still cared.

Thank you,
for days I thought all hope was gone,
for reminding me I did not walk alone.

Thank you,
for all the days that we've seen,

Thank you,
once again, my friend,
my confidante,
Jellybean.

Thank you for making life a lot more bearable.

love, joyce.

Jellybean & I (On better days)

The two best people in the my world..

For The Love of Words, Fantasy....And All Things Bookish

"..illuminating my path,
my soul enlightened,
my mind awakes.."

Dear lonely isle,

With the possible exception of Jellybean, the thing I treasure most among my hoard of materialistic wealth would indefinitely be my books. (Take note that with all things and issues concerning my books, it is ALWAYS with the possible exception of Jellybean) I'm a fanatic when it comes to my books. There are just some things you tend to be very particular about, and I take it to extremes when my books are involved.
There's just no other word for it, I LOVE THEM. Of course, the careful choosing all the way to the painstaking wrapping does play some part in why I actually take the trouble to do such things. Also, the rules I impose on all unwary enough to attempt to borrow them is, yes, I admit, absurd. But all this I do in the name of love. Obsessive love, some may say is unhealthy, but i beg to differ. Obsessive love is what keeps my books healthy.
Another kind of obsession I have, to a much lower degree is, reading them. I love my books and I like reading them, I know. But of all the things I could read, I have a special attraction to books of the fantasy genre. Correction, I tend to read ONLY those books (possibly yet another obsession). Many have wondered about this, and many more have asked. And so to those who have once pondered, ponder no more. (I would like to clarify that, despite popular belief, neither the book covers nor their contents give me nightmares)
Before that, one question: have you ever read a fantasy book?
For me, the first time I read a fantasy book, I fell in love. And after 6 years, I'm still in love.
When I read a book, I'm taken to another world, where the words swirl into landscapes and burst into colour. But perhaps, the most enchanting thing about reading fantasy is possibly about satisfying the one wish I have always had - to be somewhere else. Yes, that is nothing new. I have entertained the thought for quite a while actually.
To be away from the constraints of life, to be free of daily worries is like being able to breathe for the first time again. And each breath a celebration of life.

And every new day a promise of new adventure.

love, joyce.

A Patch of Blue

"..keep in mind,
we're under the same sky.."

Dear lonely isle,

I have been told once; that the sky is endless, continuous throughout our sacred earth, a blue blanket of clouds, rain, and dust. And it brings to mind a simple truth, anywhere we are in the world, be it oceans apart or in distant foreign lands, we are under the same sky. The very same patch of blue that hangs in my horizon is connected to yours, some few thousand miles away. You could say that continents are bridged by the sky.
It brings a sense of relief, that inexhaustable distances can still be reached, even if it is about sharing the same spot in the clouds. And the people I care about, be they in places I only dream of, are still within reach. They are but just beyond the horizon.
Though they'd be on the next continent, i feel that, like the sky, somehow we will always be connected. So sometimes when I feel the aching yearning of the heart for a dearly missed presence, it is a comfort that we share the same sky. It's a small thing, yet it draws a smile on my face.
To miss a person is a horrible feeling. It is a hunger that can never be filled, an endless echo that cannot quailed, a day without an end. The endless waiting is like holding your breath waiting for the next heartbeat that never seems to come. Someone who knows not of such feelings is a very lucky person to have escaped the misfortune of caring for another, and then having that person taken away, be it by inconvenient continents in the way, or by the unassailable, impossible, inpenetratable wall that divides the living from the dearly departed.
But behind this veil of anguish, perhaps there is an even greater mystery to uncover. In a way, it is a reminder to cherish the people by my side, to continue to love and appreciate them even more, as who can say when we will part, or even so, if our paths will cross again?
So I send this silent message for all those times I forgot to say how much I appreciate, love and care.

I hope it's not too late.

love, joyce.

Dreaming in Darkness

"..once, all dreams were worth dreaming,

i was with you.."

Dear lonely isle,

I have always felt that there was something special about the night. It brings a certain sense of peace, a kind of privacy unknown in other times of the day. The enveloping darkness surrounds you in a protective bubble of solitude where it's just you and your thoughts. And that, to me is one of the greatest feelings in the world. Listenin to music in the dark soothes the soul, and for me, brings to light some memories so sweet they can only be dreams. It is unknown why I remember these moments so vividly, or why they mean so much and most importantly, why I feel them the most in certain songs. As of such, some songs make me cry.
Some of the most beautiful moments in life are captured not by the eye but by other senses; smell, touch and sound. Even the dimmest of memories can be recovered, like old paintings in the deeps, when mud is scraped off and the burst of colours shine through.
Back to what i was saying earlier (really, you shouldn't let me wander off like that), safe in my dark cocoon I retreat into the shadows of the past, feeling safe, contented, secure, wishing this feeling could go on and on, till the end of my days. But when I open my eyes; memories they remain, and nothing more.
Always, I wished that such times were available to me once more, but fate it seems, only deals the deck once. Cards gone are forever denied. Life past, remains in the past. We never get to remake the choices we chose.
But still I persevere, pushing, wondering "what if ?", willing my mind to make it real. Perhaps, in a million other universes the other road would have been my choice. But these are just fantasies, all they were and ever will be. But then why do I continue to fool myself so? Folly, it seems, is not so easily explained.
But until then, I shall continue enjoying the dark delights of this nocturnal activity of mine; breathing in scents of lavender, feeling the soft touch of wind caressing my face and lying in the arms of an angel. My angel.

Wake up, girl. You've fallen asleep...again.

love, joyce.