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Wednesday, December 30, 2009
My left calf is cramping like shit!!!Sorry for the abrupt start of the post, but my left leg is really suffering greatly. Jogged too much today, 4 rounds around Circle Green isn't what I normally do. In addition, warm-ups have not really been my forte even since. When I'd gotten home, first thing I grab is Counter-Pain lotion, that thing has been my best friend for sports injuries, never fails me.
I got my first taste of being the wandering homeless today, the novelty is really, inspiring. Well, truth is, I got locked out of my own house after I came home from the jog. Forgot to bring the keys, actually, then my brother left for something else, leaving me out there in the harsh cold... But come to think of it, it's really kinda stupid.
Before the homeless started wandering, and after the jog. I'd managed to find Faris and some other friends at a BBQ outing. Good old friend, can't believe we'd not talk to each other for so long. He really seemed dejected over some matters. Can't help but think I've neglected him. Two guys had climbed up a sparsely-used overhead bridge, and began a man-to-man chat, things not fit for a female mind. However, that was when my left calf become one lump of tight, screaming muscles...
Well, never mind the cramp for now. The experience of being locked out of my own house would be staggeringly seething at first, but since I'd had some time before my family got home, might as well not waste it. And so, I embarked on a little stroll, one of my 'scouting' sessions which might've become too frequently engaged in recently, a short walk towards Admiralty Crescent Park. I also went to check out an empty field, and reminded myself of sweet memories.
Here's me standing in a black void on the ground which would be the field I was talking about. 2 years ago, I rendezvoused with my primary school buddies in a class reunion, the guys had a fun time playing soccer here, no team coordination lacking despite the long time apart from each other. While the girls sat under a nearby pavilion, chatted, and watched. Let me just tear myself away from nostalgia for a while...OK, imagine this, you've just finished running, drenched with sweat, fatigue clawing at every tissue of your body. No bottle of water in hand, leaving you a very parched throat. Hair in a mess from all the pespiration, and no proper dinner taken yet. In theory, that would leave you with an oily face and hair, uncomfortably wet clothes, sunken eyes. Not to mention the CRAMPING CALF!
Alright, enough about the cramping calf. Now, the reason why I called myself the wandering homeless earlier on was because of the above reasons. I really did look like the wandering homeless. But back to the point of not wasting time, I'd scouted that residential area in the daytime before, so I'd just wanted to see what it looks like in the night. Hmm, very different indeed. So different, that the contrast itself sparked a poetic inspiration in my mind.
Fangs of the Night
Frosty winds scavenge across my cheeks,
Who knows what may stick out from dark corners and peek,
Numerous monsters and different freaks,
All waiting for your anticipated fear to leak.
Day turns to night,
Same places can conjure up horrible sights,
And I really want to know what's on my right.
Not thinking much with all these fright.
A dog only barks madly,
When it sees something we can't spot visually,
Dim lights may appear ghostly,
But not until the lights themselves go out completely.
A rustle in that bush may hide a spooky recluse,
"Come and get me",I silently mused.
But when a nearby electric circuit fuse,
You will know that your soul can be easily reduced.
The temperature drops steeply at this ungodly hour,
Every dismal shadow grins like a bloody flower,
Suddenly the air tastes acridly sour,
I have a feeling that tonight the time will pass considerably slower.
~The Pen may be mightier than the Sword, or in this case, Demons.
But what do you do when the shadows fade to an even darker shade than your ink?
Blood shall be William's new medium of writing.
I gotta admit, walking alone into rarely-frequented areas is creepy, especially at night. I scared myself on several occasions, that's what inspired this poem in the first place. Sigh, the irony, I don't even know why I took the danger of this anyway, for the thrill, I guess. Deserted void decks, foreign labour workers camouflaging behind almost every pillar and then moving suddenly and scaring me, things in motion at the corner of my eye, all are certainly very thrilling.
In fact, this poem had some funny origins as to how some of the lines came about. But I think I'll leave that for my GEMs blog, leave some for the younger un's, eh? Besides, Ms Maz will kill me, I've not touching that blog...when I'm actually supposed to.
