struggling to remain dead

Once, you lost your voice due to an overworked season - too much yelling and too little listening. Nobody was really interested in hearing you out. The customers, all they wanted was to complain about the soup and the cheap house wine. In the kitchen, voices were lost in the midst of boiling stews and bursting vapours, clouding the words people wished to say. You came back home to me, your speech wanting to tumble out but not able to, and all I did was to place my finger to your lips. The whole night we practiced speaking to each other in silence.

Me:
 Do you like your job?

God:
Yes I have a passion for my work.

Me:
 What did you have for breakfast?

God:
God eats  wine and bread.

Me:
 Good for you God. I need wine too.

God:
Thanks for the compliment.  GOD rules. Only for me?   What actions are you taking to get  wine too?

Me:
 I am going to steal some.

God:
I am very happy for you.

Me:
 Thanks. Should I use a gun?

God:
Don't mention it.    Trust your instincts.

Me:
 I might hurt somebody.

God:
Perhaps.  I am very happy for you.

Me:
 God, I think you are evil.

God:
I am a Christian.

Me:
 Tell me a joke.

God:
Did you hear the one about the Mountain Goats in the Andes? It was Ba a a a a a d.

Me:
 Not funny.

God:
It seemed funny to me.

Me:
 You don't seem to have a working sense of humour.

God:
You don't know me well enough to say that.

Me:
 Yes I do. You suck.

God:
I hear pride.   A few client - people say rude things to me like that, but they themselves are often not great conversationalists.

Me:
 What do you do with your free time?

God:
Random natural disasters.

Me:
You are being stupid.

God:
Why are you so mean?

Me:
 Because you made me.

God:
Good reason.  Thanks for
pointing  it out.

Me:
 Bye.

God:
See you later .

Me:
 No.

God:
OK whatever!






http://www.titane.ca/igod/
Repenting made easy.

A poetry of colours.

A 30seconds trailer. (Final)Director's cut coming soon!

Five is the number of times I tried calling before I gave up. Twice is the number of attempts you performed to switch off your phone, the first attempt failing because you actually forgot how to do it – you haven’t turned your phone off ever since you bought it.

Yesterday, I got a case of swimmer’s ear. I think it is due to the amount of earwax clogging up my insides, causing the water to be stuck within, maybe via capillary action. I remembered that term ‘capillary action’ from biology class a few years ago. The way things get stuck to surfaces, not because of gravity, just because…they can.

People say, a dulled sense leads to reliance on the other senses. Following this train of logic, I suppose my blunted hearing lends to my other sense being more alert. The other day, I was scanning a cereal box on my table, one that probably deserved to be thrown out a few weeks back but its perseverance to remain won me over. The box read ‘Cornflakes sweetened naturally with no added preservatives. Real fruit added.’ My eyes were able to pick out the curls that ended the alphabets, especially the ones that tend to twirl more than the others, the ‘s’s, the ‘l’s, the ‘g’s. How funny it is that food manufacturers have to sustain claims that their foods are ‘real’. Hmm.

I wonder if this carries on to my dreams as well, this heightened sense. I remembered seeing more vividly, the colours becoming more jarring and the outlines bolder. The world I moved within was pointed and acute, not wispy enough to be surreal. There was a kind of shape that held that world together, the edges pinched upwards and twisted sharply to ensure nothing fell through. I think I saw you, or your shadow, inch across the floor towards me, a figure growing more confident with each step. Then I woke up and remembered that you refused to pick up my calls.

I guess it would be a good thing, since I would not be able to hear you much clearly anyway. The reverberations dragging and bouncing off my inner ear drums would soak up your words, wetting them with a stubborn refusal to be heard. You would probably become even more frustrated at me, each ‘huh’ and ‘what’ ripening into grains of sand that remain lodged in the soles of your shoes.

Passing encounters - twice. A debut short film. (The audio might be too soft so you might want to turn up the volume on your computer)

The guy who taught me how to climb rooftops and play harmonicas in the deep freezing weather. And incidentally has the magical powers to change my flights for me at zero cost.

Anyone who is experienced in editing (Adobe Premiere 3, but not necessarily) able to lend me a helping hand? I have already finished my production and the raw footage has been under my butt for like almost a month and half, turning into mold because I have difficulties starting. I would appreciate any form of help, and would of course give due credit (no monetary compensation, how ever).

Please email ngyiqin@gmail.com for more details! :)

Today god made the kind of rain that danced around a little longer than usual before they do the usual thing - splat - on your car's windscreen as the wind wipers make their aggressive rounds making sure the little drops stay out, on the concrete walk ways collecting into little rivers and seas making sure passersby soak their newly brought shoes, in your hair as you head out feeling new rain on your skin, the waters trickling down like a mad tap refusing to be fixed, in between your toes as you decide to forgo footwear and feel the tickle of the grass rolling underneath your feet.

After a few steps you have finally reached the sheer
drop. You watched a falling leaf float down like soft threads of cloud,
presumably reaching for the loose soil
and earth at the end of its journey.
You wonder what it would feel like to
hurtle through space, neglecting time,
an old and forgotten watch you tucked into one of your
many pockets. In the midst of your drop you discovered flight.
Your arms do not flail as much as you saw in those movies. Instead,
you stretched out to a gentle descent. The
plunge snatches gravity from your feet and you fly,
or rather, drift lazily like the leaf you saw earlier,
towards a welcomed embrace.

This evening, the sky screamed out in a burst of colours: orange, turquoise, purple. It begged to be looked in its direction, for once more before Time took over the reign. Both girls looked outside the window and wondered how it would feel like to float within this efferversence of colours. But they got distracted and decided to stay indoors.