Distorted frequency

To the best version of ourselves,

We are a work in progress. 
We're the miracle we've been waiting for.
Not defined by circumstances
-certainly not prisoners of defeat.
The red flags we let slide are the deal breakers in our stride.
-To turn ourselves in, to the dreams we strive.
Responsibility is the burden we do not wish to carry, yet here we are alphas of our destiny.
We rise to the occasion in our forsaken attire of valour.
To those who chance upon the rhythm we tread,
bare witness to the gleaming badge of a misfit statured against our chest.

Here in the Now

Retreat to the hillock of forgotten dreams. Bathe in the moment without racing towards change.
They hardly hit or they come at once,
May time remind you -it will all too soon be taken away.

Forever is composed of nows
-Emily Dickinson

So swim in this feeling and ride its waves; It is what this time was created for.
Don’t reel in, don’t let go.
They are coming for us in the showers of awakening, and we will take them in battered armour, down to our mindful rest.

“So if I’m inside your head
Don’t believe what you might have read
You’ll see what I might have said
To hear it,
Come waste your time me…”

– Waste, Phish.

A version of what we were is left to debate;
As sparks from lyrics lie buried in the heart of yesterday.
To the hills we run to build our wall of memories.
An altered reflection, purposeful and free,
-We tread onwards leaving behind forgotten dreams.

‘Cause in the end all you really have are memories.

Goodbye birdie

Familiarity is a perfume that slowly starts to fade with time.

When will the memories ready itself for the closet? -Its water under the bridge.
There must be a road in this place that doesn’t share a resemblance of what was before.
By now I should know;
Change will never accept bygones.
They are where they were last seen, where they rightfully belong.

The sun will set its plan for tomorrow.
All that you have and all that you can ever own is in the moment.
If this was beautiful, let pain inspire rather than cripple.

Dear old times,
I miss the ring of your innocence, the laughter of oblivion
-But to give the present a chance and for the future to have its way,
I fear I must let you go.
I will treasure it all, just like how it used to be
-As the next season takes me to newer dreams.


Make a wish and toss in the coin.
-May the ripples of fate calm your inhibitions.
This is the journey
- one that you must voyage.
May the setting of the sun remind you that pain is fleeting as is everything else.
Endure, it makes you strong.
There is a lesson in the chaos; and if you brave the storm, you will attain it.
That which is lost, will find meaning.
Far from this moment lies the answer,
-Waiting to make its purpose known.


We are all looking to buy the dream home; save and make the investment. ‘Secure your future’, they say, and in some way, that would be the definition of success. Lock eyes on the goal; it’s just another few decades to materialise before you have the right to claim a piece of the earth. That said, if nothing else falls through, at least you have a home, or in my view ‘a ghost of a house to bank on’.

If I had to wear the shoes of a critic, I would say my folks lost many a prized home. Surrendered or turned the other way when the opportunity came knocking.

But what never fails to amaze me is that they relentlessly built a home within us. Hard to imagine, in this day and age, my parents went by having five kids to keep their home brimming with laughter and chaos throughout the day; three boys that go by the names of Mark Quentin, Leslie Anthony, Nelson George and two girls, Roselinda Clementina and Georgina.

As time goes by, we move forward together in our own separate directions.
Like branches, we spread out in pursuit of out our path yet remain rooted wherever we may go.

A dynamic family of personalities, each morphing into their unique identities of the future. And despite the views in the opinion that comes with the inescapable age gap (thirteen years difference between Quentin and myself, eight with Lezz, seven with Nelson and two with Rosy) we are nothing but a band of siblings that play the ‘harmony of home’ in the same way it was taught to us.

This is my immediate family. An entity of love and belonging. Nothing different from the rest but a simple reminder to close your eyes with arms wide open and fall back with blind fate into never yielding hands.

Through a hail of difficult situations, they emerge to form an unceasing force field to weather the storm as one.

“OHANA means family. Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten”. –Lilo & Stitch

Feel, Understand, Respect

I believe the world is made up of faggots!

Despite your rejection or consent to the given statement, my belief and opinion are entitled to you and those that surround you. It is not a question of whether or not my statement is accurate. The words come from me, therefore in all self-delusion, it ought to conform itself in the light of its appearance; to be the truth in the world I see.

However, does my testament deter one’s life (thoughts) or is it sheer tomfoolery?

At the least, my opinion is just passing air, unseen, unnoticed! Therefore to you, I put forward this question, ridiculing and demeaning those who have different interest, traits, caste or appearance make you feel special?

Because if it does, I hope the walls of your narrow mindedness seal you in. Your bitter disregard is ineffective just like my earlier statement and I hope those that add perspective and a new light to this world, tread upon the so-called “ideals” you uphold with false pride.


Homophobes, Racist, Sexist and all those vermin’s that cripple the world from progressing, WAKE UP! Because with or without you, the world continues to march forward in the light of tomorrow.

You will be left behind, along with you misplaced self-righteousness to devour what’s left of your mind!