mental indigestion

Z is Zing Went the Strings of My Heart April 30, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 9:00 am
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Dear when you smiled at me, I heard a melody
It haunted me from the start
Something inside of me started a symphony
Zing! Went the strings of my heart

‘Twas like a breath of spring, I heard a robin sing
About a nest set apart
All nature seemed to be in perfect harmony
Zing! Went the strings of my heart

Your eyes made skies seem blue again
What else could I do again
But keep repeating through and through
“I love you, love you”

I still recall the thrill, I guess I always will
I hope ’twill never depart
I knew I love you heaps, and you were mine for keeps
Zing! Went the strings of my heart

Whenever John fell in love, he would hear Judy Garland break into a rousing rendition of “Zing went the strings of my heart” with a full orchestral back-up. At first, he thought he was going mad, or getting wonky eardrums, but a couple of check-ups with the psychiatrist and the otorhinolaryngologist showed his mental and physical capabilities to be intact.

As such, John merely accepted this as one of those mysteries of life that could actually help him demystify his search for The One. He had only heard “Zing went the strings of my heart” four times in his life so far at the ages of 15, 17, 19 and 25. These relationships had lasted at least a year each so he knew this internal soundtrack was a much more reliable mate-indicator than his testosterone.

One day, John was introduced to a new colleague, Sandy. She was the sweetest girl he had ever met, and he took whatever opportunity there was to spend time getting to know her on pretext of showing her the ropes. They got along just fine, and Sandy would even ask him to have lunch together sometimes so that was surely a good sign.

However, there was just one thing. “Zing went the strings of my heart” had yet to play in the gramophone inside John’s head and that concerned him. Once, Sandy asked him why he had this habit of hitting his head around so much and he replied “Migraine” which was so lame, but Sandy was so sweet and got him a box of Panadol Extra the following day.

John thought maybe he needed a more romantic environment for “Zing” to take place so he finally asked Sandy out for dinner one Friday night, which she agreed to. He booked a lovely little restaurant by the sea and Sandy wore a flowy red dress which make her skin glow even more than usual. They laughed and talked the night away, and it was most apparent that he adored her, and she adored him. However, there was no Zing, and John knew that there was no point leading her on. He would have to gently reject her later that night.

As they walked along the beach after dinner, shoes in their hands and the summer wind gently caressing their faces, John took a deep breath and was just about to launch into his gentlemanly break-up preamble when he heard Sandy humming something familiar.

“Hey, what’s that song?”

Sandy shook her head and giggled. “Oh, just an old fogey song my late grandfather used to play over and over again when I was a kid. It’s just that tonight kind of reminds me of this song for some strange reason. Not that I think you’re like my gramps. Just…this song has always put me in a happy mood.”

She hummed again (she had such a sweet voice) and John’s heart started beating faster.

“Hey Sandy, do you know the words of this song you’re humming? I think I might have heard it before.”

Sandy looked towards the starlit sky and sang softly, “Dear when you smiled at me/I heard a melody/it haunted me from the start/ something inside of me started a symphony/ Zing! Went the strings of my heart…”

John was so startled that he started choking.

“Oh dear, was my singing that bad?” she asked as she started whacking his back to try get him to stop coughing.

He shook his head, and held Sandy’s hand for the first time.


Y is for You Make Me Feel So Young April 29, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 1:34 am
Tags: , , ,

You make me feel so young
You make me feel as though spring has sprung
And every time I see you grin
I’m such a happy individual

The moment that you speak
I wanna go play hide and seek
I wanna go and bounce the moon
Just like a toy balloon

You and I are just like a couple of tots
Runnin’ across the meadow
Pickin’ up lots of forget me nots

You make me feel so young
You make me feel there are songs to be sung Bells to be rung
And a wonderful spring to be sprung
And even when I’m old and grey
I’m gonna feel the way I do, today
‘Cause you make me feel so young

You make me young
You make me feel as though spring has sprung
And every time I see you grin
I’m such a happy individual

The moment that you speak
I wanna go play hide and seek
I wanna go and bounce at the moon
Like a big balloon

Because, you and I are just like a couple of tots
Runnin’ across the meadow
Grabbing up all

You make me up
You make me feel there are songs to be sung
Lots of bells to be rung
And a wonderful fling to be flung
And even when I’m old and gray
I’m gonna feel the way i do today
Cause you make me feel so
Man i just feel so
You make me feel so young
You make me feel so young
So young
You make me feel so young
You make me feel so young


Grace was busy shopping for groceries when she bumped into Hope, her best friend in elementary school.

Everyone used to say how much alike they were, that they could have been twins, but Grace knew better. Hope, while the life of any party, also had a propensity for deep-seated bitterness when things did not go her way.

Grace tried to remember why they had stopped being friends but she could no longer recall anything, it was pointless to harp on such negative memories. She knew Hope would probably make it a point to remind her.

“Hi Grace.”

“Hi Hope.”

“How have you been, Grace? You’re looking well.”

“Thank you, so are you, Hope. I have been good. Just busy with the kids. Oh yes, I got married and have three kids now. How about you?”

“Oh, I’ve been living in Nairobi for the past five years. I’m just back home for a short visit. Not sure if you’ve heard about this from the other girls, but I’ve set up an NGO there for impoverished widows and their starving children.

“That’s wonderful, Hope.” Grace wasn’t surprised.

There was a long silence as the two of them faced each other without looking at each other in the eyes.

“Hey Hope, I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch with you all these years. Yes, we may have had fallen out in the past, but we were so close as kids, and your friendship has always meant a lot to me…”

“Oh Grace, still as sweet and phony as ever, I see.” Hope rolled her eyes and was ready to roll away with her supermarket trolley.

Grace found herself brimming with tears, and she hardly ever cried.

“What are you talking about Hope? I’m trying to be the grown-up here so we can work on being friends again.” Grace suddenly remembered: Hope always made her cry when they were kids.

“Give me a break, Grace. If you really valued our friendship, you would have tried a little harder. In fact, here I was hoping that you’d try to get back in touch with me year after year, but nothing. And now, when I practically collide into you at a supermarket, you start acting all noble with your fake apologies so that you can come across as the more gracious one. As usual.”

Hope’s words stung and angered Grace but she held back her tears so as not to humiliate herself further.

“Fine, Hope. If this is how you see me, then I shan’t bother you. Have a good day.”

Hope immediately turned the other way so Grace would not see her tears of disappointment. Grace always let go of things too easily.


W is for What a Wonderful World April 27, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 3:46 am
Tags: , , ,

I see trees of green,
red roses too.
I see them bloom,
for me and you.
And I think to myself,
what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue,
And clouds of white.
The bright blessed day,
The dark sacred night.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

The colors of the rainbow,
So pretty in the sky.
Are also on the faces,
Of people going by,
I see friends shaking hands.
Saying, “How do you do?”
They’re really saying,
“I love you”.

I hear babies cry,
I watch them grow,
They’ll learn much more,
Than I’ll ever know.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

Yes, I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

Everyone tells me to climb a mountain to get over my depression.

Oh, you will feel so small being surrounded by all these giant rocks and that will miraculously snap you back to being sane again.

Oh, the sunset will be so beautiful you will weep with gratitude and everything about life will be miraculous, even a leech sucking  blood out from your ankle.

Well, I’ve been facing rocks and sunsets the past few days and I would like to report that everyone was fucking wrong.

I have greasy hair, blisters, mosquito bites, three broken toenails, and an overwhelming urge to scream at one more narcissistic ass trying to take a selfie perched on some rock to show how healthy and self-fulfilled they are.

It is all bullshit. Give me a book to read in bed any day.

This nature thing is just is. The trees are green, the skies are blue, and the earth will always look and smell shitty because there is always rotting, and dying. All these things are there not because they are meant to restore your soul, they have been there since the beginning of time.

I don’t care about what the birds are doing or what their names are, stop pointing them out to me.

Neither do I care about what shape the moon is so stop harping on that.

What? You calling me a toxic blackhole? Well, at least I don’t use a whole toilet roll every morning for a number two you tree killer. I bet that tree over there is really pissed with you right now.

God, I would give anything to have an air conditioner and a Big Gulp of icy Coke right now.


T is for There Will Never Be Another You April 23, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 9:00 am
Tags: , , ,

There will be many other nights like this
And I’ll be standing here with someone new
There will be other songs to sing
Another fall, another spring
But there will never be another you

There will be other lips that I may kiss
But they won’t thrill me like yours used to do
Yes, I may dream a million dreams
But how can they come true
If there will never ever be another you?

Yes, I may dream a million dreams
But how can they come true
If there will never ever be another you?


The other day, she thought that she saw him standing in the bus, right in front of her. But it was not him, although it was a him who looked a lot like him. As such, she made it a point to strike up a conversation.

“Hi, sorry, but do I know you? You look awfully familiar…” she asked even though she knew she did not know him.

The guy pointed at himself. “Me?” His voice was higher, raspier, but still quite charming nevertheless.

She nodded and smiled. He always said that was her best feature.

He smiled back. His teeth were straighter.

“I don’t think so but I’m quite forgetful. My name’s Eddie, ring any bell?”

Eddie. E comes after D. D is for David. Is this a sign? she thought to herself.

“Sorry Eddie, it’s just you really look like someone I knew from a long time ago.”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got one of those faces, I guess.”

There was an awkward silence. She thought about how he would have never said anything anywhere near putting himself down. In the first place, he would have never been on a bus.

“Do I look like anyone you know?” she asked Eddie as a way to fill the space of an unnecessary conversation.

He took a long look at her. “No, I don’t think so, Madam, but are you okay?”

She started tearing up the minute he asked her that question.

Just at that moment the bus jam-braked to avoid a jaywalker and everyone was thrown forward and she ended up in his arms.

He smelled nothing like him either. She started crying as she pulled herself away from him.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” she said as she tried to use one hand to dig around her handbag for tissue.

He passed her a packet of tissue and headed for the exit door. “No worries, Miss. I get down at the next stop, but I hope you feel better after this.”

Alone again in the bus, she suddenly remembered that she had seen Eddie before in David’s old family photo taken when they were all teens. Eddie was David’s younger brother was estranged from the family because of his gambling habit. If only she could tell David about this random encounter of his brother, and how kind and gentle he is.

She missed him. She missed him so much.

She felt someone leave, then someone else sit next to her. An old man who looked like what David would look like if he had been able to live 30 more years.

“Hello uncle, do I know you?” she asked, even though she knew she did not know him.


I is for I Could Write a Book April 11, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 9:00 am
Tags: , , ,

If they asked me I could write a book
About the way you walk and whisper and look
I could write the preface on how we met
So the world would never forget

And the simple secret of the plot
Is just to tell them that I love you a lot
Then the world discovers as my book ends
How to make two lovers of friends


[Note: Not the usual short story. Fell sick a few days ago and my writing capacity is a bit limited at the moment.]


I could send you to work every morning.
I could pay for your branded handbag.
I could bring you to expensive restaurants with foreign names.
But please…
Don’t ask me to write a book.
I flunked Literature
and I don’t like Shakespeare.


I could fold your clothes.
I could clear your hairball in the shower.
I could attend orchestra concerts with you (though I might snore)
But please…
Don’t ask me to write a book.
I love you and I just do.
No need for flowery words which I don’t understand.


I could repair the coffee machine.
I could lift the toilet seat up after I pee.
I could wear the same T-shirt as you and be an annoying couple.
But please…
Don’t ask me to write a book.
Don’t tell me only artsy people have souls
I don’t ask you to like soccer, do I?


I could tell you how we met in three bullet points.
I could compile an album of lovey-dovey photos.
I could show you all the movie tickets from our dates.
But please…
Don’t ask me write a book.
Don’t say it’s not the same anymore.
I never wrote you anything before – and you were fine then.


I could buy you more books.
I could watch the kids for the weekend.
I could let you go for a me-time yoga detox retreat in Bali.
But please…
Don’t ask me to write a book.
Don’t cry and say I’m not trying.
I really am. See? I’ve just written a poem!



B is for But Beautiful April 1, 2016

Love is funny, or it’s sad
Or it’s quiet, or it’s mad
It’s a good thing or it’s bad
But beautiful

Beautiful to take a chance
And if you fall you fall
And I’m thinking I wouldn’t mind at all

Love is tearful, or it’s gay
It’s a problem or it’s play
It’s a heartache either way
But beautiful

And I’m thinking if you were mine
I’d never let you go
And that would be but beautiful I know


She was everything but beautiful. But that didn’t matter because beauty was easily acquired through make-up, hairdressers, expensive clothes and cosmetic procedures. With all these slapped on her, she could even pass off as pretty-ish on good days.

This is why she thought it was an incredible waste, after years of working so hard to look aesthetically pleasing, to throw it all away by falling in love with someone who was ugly. She secretly wondered why she could accept someone else’s ugliness but not her own.

He was everything but beautiful. But he didn’t mind  because beauty was everywhere around him – trees, mountains, beaches, clouds, sunsets. There were more than enough pretty things to go around in this world, and he felt he had been placed in this world to appreciate and take delight in all of them.

Especially her. He thought she was the most breathtaking woman he had ever met, but she seemed to hate herself so much. She would cover her whole face when he made her laugh, as if her joy had to be hidden and muffled. He found that sad yet endearing, and made it a point to compliment every little thing he found attractive about her. He was intent on building her up so her beauty would radiate to its fullest potential.

However, what happened over time was this: she became more comfortable in her own skin. She eventually stopped smothering her face with both hands and would laugh heartily, with abandon. She stopped wearing make-up on weekends to let her skin breathe, and eventually got a refund for those those packages for gold facials and botox injections.

All these made him realise that she was actually not as beautiful as he had initially thought. He soon lost interest in her for there were far more beautiful women around who would also find beauty in the copious amount of money he had.

You are everything but beautiful, he told her and offered her a considerable amount of money to leave him alone. She threw the money in his face for she had loved him even though he was not beautiful.

She worked hard to acquire beauty again and made it a point to never show any man what she really looked like again. She eventually married someone who was even richer and better-looking than the ugly, rich man she had loved, but she did not really love her husband so she always felt lonely and died alone. The ugly man married four times, and now lives in a nursing home. It’s all quite sad because it could have been a beautiful love story.