II.2

in boredom, one imagines a conversation. spliced, deconstructed, and stretched - it is thematically vague, for several reasons. in this piece, one is trying to explore the mood of conflict. perhaps one can produce a short film out of this. it might be called 'tension aku :the diaries of an annoyed slut'. scenario one goes as follows.


what the fuck. where on earth did you hear all these things?

from gus. and bee.

gus is his best friend. of all people, he should know the truth.but bee, whatthefuck, beedoesn'tevenknowmei'venevermetthebitchbefore!

gus told me it's true.

so there you go. right from the horses mouth.
[sensing desperation in lea's tone, and the persistence of which knows no bounds of privacy, i slowly begin to pick up the pieces... ]
wait.have i met you before?

yeah. that night. you were with him.
i came down to see him.
you were there.

ahh ... ok. that explains it.
[ah yes, we met. i certainly left a bad impression on you, based on your look. and proof is in the text]

that explains what? what did he say?

[annoyed. could you do anything else besides asking questions?]
he didn't say anything .... uhm.

[ and ... i smiled. hehe. you are but a child]

so he did say something. right? who was he waiting for? what did he ...

[interrupts]
he was waiting for you.
said you wanted to give him something.
i don't know.
it's not my business.

monologue:

i don't usually lie. don't like it, and am bad at lying.
and most of the time, i don't lie.
but i am slowly harnessing this ... i wouldn't call it an ability but ..

to tell a lie with the truth.
and then you would believe the lie.
naturally.

analysis

why is it that you always seem so ... distracted?

i dunno. i'm just like that. i tend to zone out.

i'm not sure how to explain this ... when you're with us, it's as if you're always thinking about things. like you're calculating something.

you mean, i'm solving math problems on the back of my mind?
dud. dud. dud. haha ..
or ...
you mean, like i'm not really there ?

yeah. your body is here, and you're eyes are looking at me, but your mind is someplace else.
it happens often, you know?
your eyes, they don't lie.
you looked so sad.

i was never happy. it's funny, you think you have everything but ...



hmm. this post coincidentally fits the song.

I.2 (gripped by time in perpetual stillness)

you've changed you know. like a different person now.

i was much younger then. people grow up.

[silence]

have i changed that much?

it's only been four years.

[pause] four fucking years.

[pause] can't really talk to you the same we used to those days. those were the good days yeah?

yeah ..

you don't agree?

no it's not that i don't. had the time of my life then.

that's convincing.

but those WERE the good days. it's nice to reminisce. but then we have nothing in common now. the past binds us, but it ends there.

okay. so i am different now, that much is true, i suppose ... but only because i'm allowing myself to become who i want to be.

we may well no longer be as close as we were before ...

... and that's perfectly fine. it does not mean that i care about you less than i did before.

and you can promise that?

... [silence]

say, if I'd met you today for the first time, would we still be friends then?

the coffee here sucks

you've changed ...

II.1

parallel. part one.

with confidence
she heads forward
along the cafe-littered street

with each step
four-inch-heel commands increasing determination
along the beats of vitalic

the chaotic rhythm of street-life
resonates harmoniously
such power is optimism

for she looks forward
to her new life away from home



note: parallel story to the post tempo. a lame attempt.

tempo

it was too quiet, and in the moment he hears everything; those metal discs gliding through the tracks, fading in and out; the collective crackling noises that the blinds, windows and the apartment's steel structure make as they moved to the rhythm of the wind. together they form a tempo that accompanies him through the night.

and then the door swung open, the light switch flicked, and the shower head starts running. moments later, the scene rewinds: the running water now dripping, the light switch flicked again and the door swung shut. silence seeped in again.

all this while his eyes were transfixed. but he wasn't looking at anything in particular. it was still, with an almost photographic quality. he waits for something (visual) to happen. but even in dead stillness it was all too tangible.