Monday, March 24, 2008
i was actually about to write a love poem, and suddenly this came out. wth. i hope i dont turn into a bra-burning feminist. oh god. LOLLL.
A Portrait of a Man – by Brintha Anne Loganathan
If you should paint a portrait of a man,
this is what you must do.
Tilt, bend over, stretch.
Let his image crawl the steps of your spine.
And traverse along through you to enter
your canvas.
Grow your hair long,
so he may clutch
the strands with his fingers.
For then only,
will he pull himself up into
the snowy blankness
to colour us all.
Breathe deeply.
Exhale, inhale,
exhale him thoroughly.
Let out the air of your
lungs into his.
Do not be selfish.
If he runs, trips, spills paint,
forgive him.
Paste the colours off your skin
on his.
Nail them wholly with your brush.
And be sure to be selfless.
Once the picture is done,
Sew a frame of finger nails and
And place the man in the middle.
Then you must hang it on your wall
For all to see and know.
The job is done,
you may heave.
A great accomplishment indeed!
But ensure he does not flee.
Or the portrait will be a portrait no longer.
brin bit this at ; 10:15 PM
Saturday, March 22, 2008
hmm,
me thinks it's time to be proactive.
pro-active! yeahhhh.
and get out of the back seat.
(i did not intend for the above sentence to have a sexual innuendo.)
OKAY, time for more research. research research researchhhh.
chugchugchugg.
brin bit this at ; 10:43 PM
Thursday, March 20, 2008
i think im going through a phase.
the kind of phase where you just want to turn into a mat (i.e. hide in one corner and play guitar)
very shiok sial.
brin bit this at ; 1:48 AM