DISCLAIMER: this might be a bit [or very] cheesy. Ha ha! But this is my entry for the week. Because i lack some visual motivation, I 'blog'.


Today I secretly wished to experience that old but new feeling.

I wished to rub my hand against my other hand and feel two different sensations at the same time. Run my smooth and slender fingers on my pulse as it pounds a different beat.

I wished to listen to myself hum a different tune, and feel how the strange sounding notes produce variated resonances like drums of soft and delayed echoes – of blues, of folk, of underground. Eavesdrop on myself as I sing a few strange, yet so familiar and revealing melodies, unconsciously, about and for myself.

I wished to stand in front of the mirror and wave at myself as if it was the first time that I realize that I was not invisible – a nonchalant glance of adoration, perhaps.

I wished to feel the scent of stack of old second-hand books, and freshly brewed tea, hold that other strange hand, and then sniff on the scent of the usual cigarette that is full different memories. To suddenly forget how my skin smells, and then obsess about it.

And then, I wished for a different taste in my mouth. And then a different feeling – a usual motion for reciprocation. As if foreign saliva overpowers the dryness in my tongue. And tides of two different levels of tepidness rush down my throat, like milk is to alcohol.

And then finally, I wished that I'd realize that I was mistaken. I'd feel that it was not my mouth that I was playing with. It was not my tongue. Not my teeth, nor my throat. I'd realize that it was not my nose that smells the books that I do not own. It was not my freshly brewed tea, not even my other cigarette-scented hand. I'd recognize that it was not my reflection that I was looking at, but of another's. And I'd understand that they were not my hands, nor my slender fingers, nor my strange beating pulse.

You see, today I secretly wished to experience that old but new feeling:

I secretly wished to be inside you.
No, not to be inside you, but become you.
No, not become you, but be inside you AND become you –
To travel into two different memories OF the same time, AT the same time.

And since I chose not to speak – not because I don't want to, but because I'm not skilled to – everything falls into this wish, this dream, that you get the hint of my desire, that you know how it feels to be me and feel and know what I do.


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Different places at the same time