.
Eighteen. I was eighteen and my first published story ever stared back at me from the pages of the paper. Actual newsprint where nothing but an idea existed only weeks before. These words were mine, and they were in the paper, for all to see. I was public, truly for the first time, my full name a signature of culpability — I wrote this, I told myself, I am sorry if it is very awful.
.
Her eyes haunted me even when I turned away from them, suddenly realising that she had stared at me throughout the attack, unflinching like two drops of cold jade in a turbulent sea of fire. I knew then that she had realised my fear of her and I saw her give me a thin, icy smile that sent tiny tremors along my sweat-beaded back despite the fatal heat of the jungle.
She rose from the ground, a Venus rising from mud. A trail of blood, vividly green in the leaf-hues of the clearing’s meagre light, flowed freely, almost eagerly from her wounds of violence, as sap would flow from a stab punctured in the bark of a majestic tree, outraged by man’s hands and steel.
The beautiful green woman looked down at herself, captivated by disgust.
.
The adjectives, too many. My schoolmates had called me a walking dictionary back then. Come to think of it, the teachers did too. Aren’t they supposed to have larger vocabularies than their students? But nay, I shan’t blame them for my verbosity and my purple prose. After all, I am infected, still, by words, always the words.
I recognise the adolescent me, a puerile creature with a taste for easy headlines and cheap scandals. Have I changed all that much, I wonder?
Breaking my story into pieces, I try and dissect my past, my former self who may not be so very past.
.
Shuddering inside, I knew those poor bastards were nothing but fertiliser for her vicious plants now, if the undulating, hungry mass of floral viscera could be called plants. For a fragile instant, I wondered whether they were not demonic offspring of writhing bog-spawn and serpentine Gorgons. Somehow, by instinct or idiom, I understood that they were part of her mossy sea, inseparable as despair from desire.
I did not register any more panic to scream or run even as I felt creepers crawling all over my body and grasping me so tightly I could barely breath, let alone escape. But I did not want to escape, only to look into those beautiful, cold eyes of hers.
.
There is always a frisson of pleasure when some impossible desire is fulfilled, even if only in one’s imagination, if the only physical friction comes the clash of words, conjugating and simmering in syntax. Words are life is sex is true. Boys do seek this — sex as fiction, fiction as sex. We think about it all the time. And being very afraid, we cajole and we bully, sometimes ourselves, till we reach some safe haven of denial.
See, I have no idea what I’m talking about. Words block good sense out, protect you from the world. When you can imagine, you can avoid real feeling. Can’t you?
.
She kissed me, taking my tongue into her mouth, drawing it in deep, tasting it, planting her pretty toxins into my frail human body. She was taking me, I could feel myself inside of her, inside the green chasm, I was almost there, her paradise. All around me, the ghastly fens reverberated with the hideous calls of dead monsters and the banshee cries of their unfortunate victims; hunters and hunted, now all an eerie choir of ghosts. But I was too busy looking at the dead orbs of the beautiful green woman as her silent voice rippled all over my ecstatic being.
“All daisies grow from your body well.”
.
And there. The story ends. You know your endings when you write your stories, even when you don’t. Life, on the other hand, isn’t that straightforward. Till it ends, you have no idea where you’re headed. Still. There’s plenty of beauty along the way, if one looks after it, it ain’t that hard. Plenty of beauty, and joy. Even sex. Love, too. What gets me there each day passing each day doesn’t change though, no. Words. They kept me sane and they’ll save you too.
Words. Just words.
.
~ * ~
.
Excerpts (in italics) from “All Daisies Grow From Your Body Well” © 1997 Kenny Mah.
Credits: Design by Kenny Mah. Source photo by Ella Kihrer.
The beauty of your words will live on eternally.. as long as men/women are able to read them.
*comment inspired by Sonnet 18*
Nicely written
Not too sure if there was a small oversight in this sentence,
“What gets me there each day passing each day doesn’t change though, no.”
If there wasn’t, pls excuse me — I haven’t had my coffee yet ..
P/s: Do delete this comment yeah? Thanks.
18? U wrote that at 18? Think my masterpiece then was something like ’ .. then I brought the alien home. Mom’s eyes bulged while sister’s jaw went a round O. Later, I had to close it for her.. ’
so right! we don’t know were the road ends.. but we know to walk the path chosen of us.. or some would like the believe, they choose. I believe that the path has already been chosen for us..!
you had such good vocab back then.
i stil rmbr when i was in Form5, the essays I submitted for competition were all fictions.
either cloning, or aliens, or such.
none about LURVE. =P
» Jemima
That is so sweet. My words may not be worth much, but it’s nice to think that they might be read still years on from now by others.
» Kaya MeeKoo
Nope, not an oversight. In fact, the original sentence read, “What gets me there each day passing each day DON’T change though, no.”“What gets me there each day passing each day doesn’t change though, no.”
Thing is, sometimes I prefer to write the way I would speak sometimes, with no regards for grammar (or indeed, grandmamas).
I hope you don’t mind me not deleting your comment cos I thought it was useful to prove a point here. That, and I do get typos all the time unintentionally (unlike this, where it was intentional) as I never edit. Malas lah.
» Tummythoz
LOL. I think I prefer your story at 18. More drama.
brilliant writing..i wish i can write half as well hor..vocabulary?? dear mine is seriously non existent 1..
All Daisies Grow From Your Words Well.
» cumidanciki
That’s interesting, that you believe that the path has already been chosen for us. Others would argue that we make our own destiny. I’m personally of two minds about this. What do the rest of you guys think?
» J2Kfm
Walau, another alien story writer? I must have missed out on a major trend when I was 18. And haiya, my vocab wasn’t good lah. Just florid.
And if you read the full story, you’d realize it’s not a bout LURVE at all (unlike my more recent musings), but my first stab at a horror story after seeing Uma Thurman on the big screen as Poison Ivy.
Ahhh, Uma Uma, oh Uma-ma…
*wistful look on face*
» lotsofcravings
Harlo, how can you say your vocabulary is non-existent? I read your blog ma. You use a lot of words also. Of course, the pics help a lot in making me drool.
(For those who don’t know what Joe blogs about, it’s FOOD. Don’t get any farnie ideas.)
By the way, just saw ur Girlfriend at this forum I’m attending at Le Meridien. Haiyo, didn’t know she was working at (undisclosed company). Will definitely be in touch with her for possible corporate collaboration.
See, I do actually do work. Not just blog.
» Nic (KHKL)
Yikes. They do?
*faints in a field of word-fertilized daisies*
can we read the full story please?
Who is this woman in green?
She remains to be seen
Your muse when younger?
Don’t hide her any longer…
’ The beautiful green woman looked down at herself, captivated by disgust. ’
no one writes quite like you, kenny. u can turn anybody on with just one sentence like this one. *sighs *
» Sunny
I think it’s actually somewhere in the archives, if you look hard enough. Don’t, though. I’m horrendously embarrassed by it and only put up some excerpts here cos they were in my train of thought for some reason earlier this morn.
Gosh, now that I get around it, what on earth was I thinking when I wrote it?
» Célestin
The woman in green smiles
And captures you with her wiles
For a glance you’d travel miles
And they seem not like miles
» wintergirl
*blushres furiously*
You will do well in your SAT esp. the vocab part. I did my spot of memorizing vocab for SAT. However, did not hone it with writing. No flair for it.
blushres? what are u blushring about? =P
I find it incredible that you’ve been writing since you were a teenager. How do you keep it up?
» Chin
I suspect I must have been a dictionarian in my previous life. (Or do I mean disciplinarian?)
And it’s never too late to start writing. Writing can be a lifelong passion.
» wintergirl
Oops. I meant “blushes.” See what I meant about my typos?
» Godiva
Hmm. Being egoistic and not getting bored with my own ramblings? Hahaha…
It’s interesting to note the difference in the way we write, comparing the now with the past. Don’t you think?
I wrote a lot of depression-like, suicidal stories and essays when I was still at school (high-school I mean..). Can’t seem to write them anymore these days. Maybe I’m happier? =)
» Michelle
I should certainly hope so. Perhaps growing older is what happiness is about?
You wrote that when you were EIGHTEEN? Ohhh my very underachieved youth… but I have that same feeling about the written word — it has enormous capacity to save!
» 550ml jar of faith
Oh, I have known fourteen year olds who write far better than I ever could, but this isn’t about the quality or quantity of what we produce… it’s about just producing… just expressing ourselves, no?
How many miles must I travel
Till this green mystery I unravel?
The green woman calls to me like an angel
Forbidden, with a sap-stained halo…
i second what sunny said — full story, please! =D
No worries..I see your point
…
Sometimes, writing the way we speak is always more heartfelt
» Célestin
Her siren call is bewitching
But beware, it’ll leave you twitching
Though bound with steel stitching
You’ll escape, to her a ride hitching
So I’d advise, before a tent you’re pitching
To her glory this plan you be ditching!
» lady liberty
Hmm. The complete story is there, if you really want it. It’s somewhere in the archives, easily found with a good guess. But I don’t really wanna link it here though cos I think I no longer like it. And I can’t bring myself to rewrite it cos its story is true for what it is, even if I don’t like it anymore.
I do love the title though.
Perhaps one day, a different story with the same name. Perhaps.
» Kaya MeeKoo
Yeah. One of my friends pointed out the perfect English in the posts and the colloquial Manglish in the comments section — well, that’s how I speak: bothways, really.
And it’s always fun to mix-and-match, eh?
i wrote stories about aliens too! but nothing on green women. =P
yes, we have to write how we feel and speak. honesty cannot be faked. agree?
» Anna
Did I miss out on some massive Alien Writing Movement when I was a kid??? Well, at least I cornered the market on green women.
» the_lighthouse
Honesty’s honesty. You just can’t fake it.
Her true nature may yet be seen
Sweet may be this woman green
Though charming men she is keen
Surely this isn’t considered obscene?
luv the picture of the daisy in her mouth. do u know the song california dreaming? this started playing in my head when i saw the pic.
» Célestin
Some say green is the new black
(Or was that pink? Let me check.)
You may be enraptured by this colour
But trust me, you don’t want her pallor.
» April
California Dreamin’ by the Mamas and the Papas? That’s a good song. Were you thinking of Wong Kar-wai’s “Chungking Express” when you had it playing in your head? It was used prominently in that film. The wistfulness of the girl in the picture does remind me of Faye Wong’s character now that I think about it.
(Also, I was just commenting earlier today on Cumi & Ciki’s pictures reminding me of a WKW flick — those had more of the “Fallen Angels” or “Blueberry Nights” flavour though. I guess I know what’s gonna influence me next post, then. Heh.)
tony leung n faye wong were so good in that movie together. kooky, weird n cool. the music was so important too.
» ~ elfie ~
Yeah, they were, weren’t they? I mean, Tony Leung is always good (I doubt there’s another more consistent character actor in the HK film biz) but Faye was a revelation here — ethereal, pixie-like and quite frankly, appearing quite out of it half the time. Music is always important in films, in my opinion, more so with WKW’s films… They are like another character in the ensemble… adding colour and wit to the mood.
Sighs.
I am so definitely writing to WKW for my next post.
Her lips smack silently
Over her suitors, quite gladly
Bring us closer to her mossy sea
We may never leave willingly…
Well. I am very jealous because you are too talented. So I won’t say anything nice about this post. So there.
» Célestin
Ah! my warnings are in vain!
Tis human to be unconstrained
Whither to dance naked in the rain
Or simply slowly, surely go insane…
» Jesse
Then I shall have no other talents to speak other than to pout when others have nothing nice to say about my posts. So there.
i see what you mean about the WKW thread! Faye has that drugged out quality .. endearing and broken… yet tough. cool chick
» cumidanciki
That’s a real nice way of putting it — endearing and broken — which, I suppose, appealed to a lot of us back then. Now we are older and wondering if we are wiser. Definitely cooler, though, yes?
wkw is the best! do u know he’s rereleasing the ashes of time? i think he cleaned it up like george lucas did with the early star wars films… can’t wait!
Rain, rain, rain, go away
Come again another day
Cos I wanna go out and play
With the green woman if I may…
» priya
Yuppers. It’s called “Ashes of Time Redux” and it has premiered at Cannes already, unless I’m much mistaken. I’m dying to catch it here if it ever comes to our local shores. If not, there is always the DVD later on, eh?
» Célestin
Green woman has a green mommy
And she has a runny tummy
So unless you are very chummy
Best stick to gin rummy…
LOL
Chung King Express is one of my favourite movies of all time. I’ve been craving for canned pineapple and caesar salad ever since I saw that movie. I think I watched it more than 10 times already! Definitely way visionary, WKW! One of my favourite directiors of all time.
And In The Mood For Love? The smoke, the dumpling, the tiffin carriers!
I have a feeling WKW’s a foodie. Haha!
» Nic (KHKL)
Most excellent! Bro, you just went up another notch on my favourites’ ranking, haha. Yes, I am certain WKW is a major foodie… the way food is featured in all his films. One of them even features food in the title — BLUEBERRY Nights.
Next time we meet up, bro, we gotta start discussing WKW… Gosh, I’m such a cinegeek. Tee hee.
From the green woman in her nest
We take the Chungking Express
We eat Caesar salad and tuna
And sing loverly La Luna.
“She kissed me, taking my tongue into her mouth, drawing it in deep, tasting it…“
Wow…that was so erotic, lol! Such a turn-on! Ahh… i’m talkin about the power of your words — that’s what adjectives do — they paint the pictures more vividly into our minds. Bravo
» Célestin
Belinda Carlisle may swoon
At your rendition of her tune
Fallen Angels in the Chungking Express
In the Mood for Love, into the West…
Okay, a bit sesat on that last one. Yikes.
» Pureglutton
Erotic, meh? Hehe.
u put those pulitzer prize winners to shame. here i thought rushdie was using far too many adjectives in shalimar the clown, which i am currently reading. (dont get me wrong, i am an uncultured pleb, i am reading rushdie only coz it was a gift from hairy berry, and it would be rude not to read it…thankfully its a delightful read).…
so for your essay writings how your teacher mark? she prob takes 2 hours going thru ur essay, pausing every 3rd word to check dick.…
» fatboybakes
I think you just knocked your own sentence (the Julia Roberts hair one from your last blog post) off my Best Line of the Year chart with this last line of yours. I nearly died laughing. Haiyo… I certainly would want no knowledge of how my teacher checking my essays, man…
Strangely though, I’ve a far smaller vocabulary now that I’m older, and happier to boot. Too many words = frumpy dumpy grumpiness?
From the West these angels fly
Blueberry Nights go by
And the beat cop does spy
The perfect girl who does not lie
» Célestin
I miss the young Takeshi, his sweet cop
Makes all lovers of love their jaws drop
Wah… so many poems back and forth! Like a puisi battle only… So impressive!
» Poh Chu
Better battle with words than weapons, no?
still i want to believe i chose my endings
life or stories for that matter
» rokh
Then choose, my dear, choose. It’s the most powerful weapon we have at our disposal: the freedom to choose.
haha i had to chuckle a bit at the last portion of your story…
prettttty sensual. but very tasteful!
i really liked the sci-fi/romance story… tho it’s kind of an odd combo for me. lol. ^_^
«< “When you can imagine, you can avoid real feeling. Can’t you?”
yeah… as they say, inflict one pain to forget another… in this case the character in the story (the inner you of the younger days, perhaps?) has rather masochistic tendencies… intriguingly so. hmm.
*eyes kenny suspiciously*
heheh!
Hey Kenny — thanks for leaving your inspirational comments on my blog. You wrote this sometime back but the last lines struck me:
“What gets me there each day passing each day doesn’t change though, no. Words. They kept me sane and they’ll save you too. Words. Just words.”
With all the craziness around me (some malignantly directed, too), I seek the refuge and comfort of words more and more. Other people’s words, my own when I can find the time, tales woven of nothing but imagination, exhortations by a few who’ve been through tough stuff and survived, all these keep me believing there’s still good in the world.
So, bro, I know what you mean when you say words keep you sane, and the what is imagined can a lot of times protect.
See you around, and have a great new year, Kenny.
» Eliza
”… all these keep me believing there’s still good in the world.”
And there is, dear, there is so much. We are protected and saved by what we believe after all. And I believe in words as a mighty salve and catalyst for change. Better things to come, in 2009 and further.
Have a brilliant new year, Eliza!
*HUGS*
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