One of my fellow neighbours who stays over at Hues of Instanity Avenue here in Bloggerville (yes I'm going to try and reference this as much as possible and create a trend hehe) has written a beautiful note entitled ‘Withering’ Heights which I came across a few days ago which I have posted below. I planted roses in the desert,
but the sands lay grey and still.
I watched them fade away, helpless,
dying away against my will.
These words have clung on to me over the last few days – sometimes crossing my mind at moments that I would have least expected it. It just happened to me right now (well actually about 7 minutes ago; hence have been formulating how I would try to explain this electric bolt of emotion). So whilst catching up on the neighbourhood updates; I found myself scrolling down towards this particular post.
Perhaps it’s the exquisite photograph that has been used. A single rose, captured in a state of vulnerability; specked with beads of water; laying almost face down – gazing into its’ own reflection.
As I was reading the lines and allowing the words to sink in; I felt a stirring of my lips and become aware becoming aware, that I had been mouthing a few lines of my own; and as I felt the words get louder – by now an audible whisper – accompanied by a strong sense of urgency to put those fragmented words out there for all to see – imprinted digitally for an infinite period.
I planted roses in the flower bed
Watching from the window ledge
Waiting for the shoots to bloom
All in vain, for even the soils
Must have felt my gloom
After writing this down – my mind was in a flurry of activity – alive – I could vividly see a picture of what I this post would look like. It was like being able to see a masterpiece being recreated on canvas.
By now I had stopped writing despite my overflow of thoughts and ways to pen them down; as my body experience another surge of emotion – this time hunger !! I had a few errands to attend to earlier this afternoon; had an early breakfast; lunch was out of the menu as it was too hot to eat. All I have had between breakfast at 10:30 a.m and now, 02:15 a.m was a glass of cold mango milkshake and a grilled cheese & tomato sandwich.
My stomach couldn’t take it anymore; and I got up and heated up some sweet rice dish that is typically made at my maternal grandparents’ home. Don’t roll your eyes – I know it’s no good to eat rice so late at night – but there is nothing else to eat tonight that is appealing to my palate.
I just stopped typing again (and put down my bowl of ice cream) as my ears picked up on some sounds in the dead of the night. As I mentioned it’s quite late and my bedroom is silent aside from the slight hum of the air conditioner. It sounds like there is a clock somewhere …. Tick.Tock.Tick.Tock.Tick.Tock. … and suddenly what comes across as a ‘splat’ … The air-con has started dripping a little bit. The weather has been suffocating over the last few days out here. Must tell mum to have the air-con looked at - although I know what the answer is – “keep the temperature above 22° and not as low as you do” !!
In essence what I’m I have been trying to do and am hoping I have achieved – is that for you to experience the step-by-step process or methodology if you want to call it – better yet – the frame of mind working behind this post.
Disclosure Note:
Of course This is not exactly how I wanted my masterpiece to look like – but Blogger doesn’t let me upload a word document. The actual document – when looked at with all the ‘track changes’ notes actually looks very funky and shows just how each paragraph was phrased and edited and rephrased. Hence all you can actually see when I copy & paste into Blogger is the superscript & strike through effects.
Oh well – another time maybe.
p.s. although I think it might have worked if I were using Office 2007 – ‘cos with that you can automatically directly upload to Blogger via the word document.
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