“Sometimes, it’s one’s denial that keeps one alive.”
~ © Esmond Ng 08/01/12

“In-between those hustles in Life, I sometimes afford a snap of idle rumination, where things around me would slow, gradually, to a crawl, and just before anchoring to that irreversible still, I see. I see clearly what has passed, as if it were flashing in front of the now moored inactivity. Not I one who perfect-bethinks of my battered past, but more of an inability to remove myself from my aggrieved. When only in such allayed mood would I lose control and regret that breather of initially. What have I done or did not possibly? That time actually kills me, ironically, muffled from its chase, however impossible by this inasmuch logic. It is in such that while quietly wasting away, I think of you. That my disconnecting moments, they belong to you. And I realize, not least bewildered, that it is all I do these days. Then I wait. I wait for time to flinch again.” ~ © Esmond Ng 22/12/11

“The path of least resistance – Are the living all guilty of it? Why then, do I always thread the insurmountable?” ~ © Esmond Ng 17/12/11

“Lean not on my own understanding? In foremost, what do I even understand?” ~ © Esmond Ng 03/11/11

It breaks yet it mends.
It distresses while it soothes.
It evokes pain but dishes comfort.
It I love to hate and hate to love.

“‎Where do waves originate? A long way it seems they come, at my feet to sigh just so they are washed away the next.”
~ © Esmond Ng 21/10/11

“For one of talent, I’m terribly untalented in such.”
~ © Esmond Ng 19/10/11

“If you accumulate 60 hours of crying within 4 days, you can actually start tearing involuntarily without knowing it.”
~ © Esmond Ng 11/10/11

I screamed but I heard no yells,
I drowned but yet I breathe,
I burned but even hell not wants me,
I died but then I live.

“It is only in hurt that you know something is real.”
~ © Esmond Ng 30/09/11

“I lost only because I had truly loved. And if keeping you means I couldn’t, then you made the right choice.”
~ © Esmond Ng 04/03/11

“I freaking hurt. But i’m afraid to die. Cos i won’t be able to see the one that hurt me anymore.” ~ © Esmond Ng 03/03/11

“If only Death is as scary as Life.” ~ © Esmond Ng 02/03/11

When ye skies full grey,
Think your days shadow’d dismay.
Blurr’d sorrow will not let see,
Your eyes to heaven’s sun rays.

For hidden they be,
Behind cloudy bearings they’ll surface.
Of light, of hope, and do await;
The sky is never gloom stays.

If pours from it Love as tempestuous,
Like tears from which stream Thy face.
If not for such solemn toilsome winds,
Would Thou see the betters of they?

May rainbows much exceedingly,
Sought itself to please to surface.
After the sheets of brief, grief rain,
Betters after each every pain.

“We always hurt more than others for we are the someone else in our own shoes.” ~ © Esmond Ng 01/02/06

After all, this was where I first saw you in white angelic.
The place I picked you up from for our first date.
The place I thought I would see the sweetest thing to my eyes each every day.
The place which stayed the one who took my last true love breath away.

At this place I hold much lovely memories but also pain.
That I would hurt someone and disappoint her till this day.
At this place, never the same it will be.
At this place, they soon will tear down; cease to exist.

But at this place, though no longer soon be;
Will stay the same in heart and mind; like you be to me.
For I to you, believe you still say the same;
That you be a holder of past “begone” memories.

Your promise to me, I cling on dearly;
Like a babe’s insecurity away from His mother’s embracing peace.
Your promise to me, I wish realized daily;
That each second passes, I die more so gradually.

In song, quando when Thee be mine?
Quando tornerete? My moments a day, my days truly a lifetime.
For in song seems improbable this relation be,
But in Life this be my soul song that sings.

When He simile’d that each thought of Thee a flower be,
That He then a garden could have beautiful and big.
I tell Thee this: “That my garden no smaller than His,”
“That my garden gardened duly due to Thee.”

I thinks’t not any little less of my baby,
Not today, these days or what tomorrow be.
That added frownings I want not for Thee,
Thus back to my secret garden I wait admirably;
My garden kept watered by your promise to me.

I know you have seen people crying,
When loved ones they leave.
I know you have seen people crying,
When things don’t move smoothly.

But have you seen people crying,
When loved ones they meet?
But have you seen people crying,
When even if it’s only been few days without each?

Such intense sensations erupted out suddenly,
Like volcanoes dormant no one expected it.
Such happiness shown in uncontrolled crying,
Such only a few would ever know this feeling.

You’d thought such only in movies forth coming.
It impossible that crying be a form of delighting.
Neither did I ever believed in it oxymoronic,
Until myself did I cry when happy and relieved.

They say: “Why do people treasure things only after they lose it?”
May it be the missings during lonely moments?
May it be the memories so sweet brought back?
Perhaps even the familiarity of not having what used to be about?

Why then do people complain about those not already there?
Why then do people lament about things already sunk and gone?
But do they not see the after; what may in future store?
The subsequent treasures that may come forth?

I say to them: “Why treasure what’s already gone, already lost?”
What’s the use of saying treasure only after forgone?
Why not treasure what’s here and now?
What’s truly right in front of you that still is around;
And not turn into another treasure only after gone.