Worn

Worn beneath the soles
A mile between the heels
Lost between the moles
Thrown above the hills

Ramble On

my sweetheart was a serious girl,
a serious girl was she
she lay among the laughing stalks
and lived in amnesty

Watching Love grow, Forever.

I am in love with ceremony. It's been on repeat since I saw Marie Antoinette. Events unnerve me. Simple ironies, far too complex to be coincidence. pieces of the past running after me, never allowing me to forget. Things that should be but aren't certainty that isn't really certain. Who says any of this has to make sense. We just want it to, because if they do we can believe in ourselves just a little bit more.

The priest who had accompanied her whispered, "This is the moment, Madame, to arm yourself with courage." Marie Antoinette turned to look at him and smiled, "Courage? The moment when my troubles are going to end is not the moment when my courage is going to fail me."

I went shopping, that made me feel a little happier. Oh well a lot actually. I really enjoyed today, it was perfect. Its all sorted out for the time being, tomorrow things might "unsort" themselves, but right now things are peachy. Walking shopping and spending more than i can afford is becoming a very bad habit. Whatever. Whatever works. Whatever makes you happy. Whatever it takes to live with yourself.

I wonder why it strikes such a chord. Probably because its the person I'm turning into. I feel like I loved you a lifetime ago. Things have changed, and I finally bought a pink shirt. I wish "you", the you I knew then were around to smile and say you're wearing that tomorrow. I wish I'd stop breaking, promises to myself. Even when theres nothing left, not even the whiff of a memory to cling on to. I wish for so many impossible things. I wish I believed in the impossible.

This is why events unnerve me,
They find it all, a different story,
Notice whom for wheels are turning,
Turn again and turn towards this time,
All she asks the strength to hold me,
Then again the same old story,
World will travel, oh so quickly,
Travel first and lean towards this time.

Oh, Ill break them down, no mercy shown,
Heaven knows, its got to be this time,
Watching her, these things she said,
The times she cried,
Too frail to wake this time.

Oh Ill break them down, no mercy shown
Heaven knows, its got to be this time,
Avenues all lined with trees,
Picture me and then you start watching,
Watching forever, forever,
Watching love grow, forever,
Letting me know, forever.

I know this is not right, and his is not healthy, and this is not good for me. But indulge me one last time my lover and deepest confidante. I will let this go. I will believe in the possible, I will believe in things like common sense instead of the power of an individual to change his perception and reality, in relations instead of relationships, I will believe in life instead of Life, I will believe in me and not Us. I will not be able to believe in mercy, but it'll be alright, i cant always do what I believe is right. I'm sorry darling, I've changed so much and riddled your pages with too many irrelevant truths. Burdened your spaces with too many words. I'll move on soon enough but, you always will be the best.

"Pardonnez-moi, monsieur"

For now, words of dying people seem to make the most sense. Its not kitsch, its not pop, its something that will forever ring in our souls. Last words, last thoughts, lasting impressions and lasting endless nights.

"I am weak, all my life I've felt weak compared to other people. If they want to crush me, they can- but I know I can do things that other people can't"

I Don't Like It Like This / I Wanted You To Feel The Same

"words fail me all the time
I don’t even feel like talking
still I go on and on
I’m dying here and you keep walking

why are you asking me this?
can’t you see I’m trying?
I don’t like it like this
no I think I’m dying

I can’t calm down at all
panic is what panic feels like
can’t we just stay silent?
speaking now seems far too violent

why are you asking me this?
can’t you see I’m trying?
I don’t like it like this
no I think I’m dying"

The Bitter-sweet irony caught up with me. The words, the images the smallest things, that tear me up inside. Sometime earlier I said I don't know what this feels like. Deep down inside I remember, I absolutely refuse to admit it, I hate it, I'd much rather die than cry. Ironic day. I need to sleep, and as i mold my face into my pillow, all I'm asking myself is how things turned out this way. This seems to be the question of the century.

If you want to know, put the pieces together. Its half and half, I feel as divided as I always do. It was Marie Antoinette, and the sweet cake they ate. It was feeling something, when i cannot make head or tail of what to feel. Its the indecision, the uncertainty, the lesser of two evils. Its the paradox, between the lie and the truth. Its the blasphemy on my bitter lips. Its the beat, the music, the rush, of things i will never admit. I love irony, I love bitter sweet, I love a lot of things...

I don't need to have it just because I love it. I need a plastic smile, to be unable to speak from the heart, just because its an organ I cannot find it. I need to numb out, fall into infinity, and
pretend,
pretend like
I don't care.

"I sometimes got so tired of our game
I wanted you to feel the same
And did I say I liked you on the plane?
I wanted you you to feel the same

I wanted you you to feel the same

It breaks my heart to say that when I was in pain
I wanted you to feel the same
But nothing gets you really
It's a shame
I can't believe you didn't feel a thing

I wanted you you to feel the same"

I'm tired of feeling lonely

A random poem that wrote me

I wanted a song for the season
A tune to match the mood
I wanted the world within reason
A place for me and you
All I got was postcards
They said the same old thing
Wherever you go, there you are
I cant be there with you.
All they were, were memories
Of places you have been
I left my life to trace those steps
And hopes that once were gone
From the places and the memories
From the seasons saddest songs
Once we talked about the windows
That let more out than in
We talked about the memories
The things that could have been
Its too late for the wondering
Too late to begin
As you looked through the window
My soul began to dim
I wished i may, I wished for might
Upon a dimming star
Upon the pictures i felt most scared
On my body's many scars
I cowered to the craven
A crown upon the weak
We danced up on the shattered glass
Where once our souls would meet
Sacrificed once more on this alter
Are words, meaningless words

The meaning of words

Burn for me, oh heart of my heart
And swear that we shall never part
Boil for me, oh blood of my blood
And swear that we be equal parts
Cut for me, oh flesh of my flesh
And swear that we will never test
Shatter for me, oh Soul of my Soul
And know the price of all you behold

I really wish you were here.

I woke up sick today. Every depressed person knows what its like to be sick. The pains the nightmares, the restless sleep. I'd go back to sleep but i somehow dont think its possible right now. I'd eat to get rid of the gastric but i know i'll just throw up. So i light another cigerette and rest in the comfort of the familiar smells.

I was in a war early this morning. I remember lying down, proning, firing my M16. I felt the two shots one going under the right side of my body under my ribcage. The other on the left side of my chest barely missing my heart. I remember the searing pain, the shock, the adreneline. I thought i'd have died but by some dream logic i didnt.

Sometimes i have this secret desire to go to war. To be a war photographer, to immortalise the suffering. To give a face to the countless that are no longer among us, barely mourned, barely remembered. The sadness is in how much a human life is valued. The price of death, now made so avaliable like everything else. Abortions for under a hundred, bullets for mere cents, cigerettes going at ten bucks a pack, booze for twenty at DFS.

I had my question asnwered, sort of. I bought a book, by an author i didnt know, with a cover i didnt like. But she won a Pulitzer. The book is called Namesake, i wanted a book to tie me over for the holidays. Namesake like its title brought back a wave of memories of what i used to be like, of the simplicity of life before it all got so screwed up. I remember what it was like to be me before everything, so crystal.

Normally on days like this i'd reach for the phone to call John. He wouldn't say much but he always gave me the impresison that he understood how i felt. I called Tab, i wanted to wish her mom happy new year. Its funny how i've been talking to her all these almost 10 years. Its one of the strangest relationships i've got in my life. I've never met her, nor do i know her name. Yet she gives really good advice, like a real veteran of life.

I ended up having a conversation with Tanya, the last time i spoke to her was when we went to church last year in my attempt to look for god to soothe my breaking heart. I remember the answer i got, that god didnt abandon me. It was the other way around. We talked and for once the small talk didnt feel like a grating pain. Somehow there are still people i find comfort in. As alone and as anti-social as i've become.

In another 4 hours it'll be denise's birthday. I'm sitting here, alone at home, tired, depressed, listening to Elliot Smith enjoying the silence and solidarity of being single. Its not that i dont want to move on. Theres nothing I want to move on to. I told Tanya that i'd like to find another lover, hours later i'm eating my words, realising how incomplete I am.

Somehow in this space, full of its depressing words, if you were reading it from the start the writings might have made you numb to the inconsequential whinning of things that will never come to pass. Things that were woven with wishful thinking, of hopes that no longer have any place in my life. So they come to rest here in this graveyard of forgotten words, promises and parts of me that never healed.

I've come to learn that time doesn't really heal the wounds. New parts of you grow, and you slowly learn to accept the inevitable, letting go of the old parts that have grown so dear to you. Some people let go, i think, i'm not so sure. I know that i dont. They just fade into the background. Some twist of fate, slip of chance, some bearded old man in front of his great computer with me on the screen and a sole red button on it that says "smite" in big bold words, probably with the Impact font for greater ironic detail. It rushes back to me, the hopes that i have to put down, the lovers that i have to get away from. The parts of me that i grew with them in hopes of never being apart. The parts of me that i nurtured so carefully, tenderly, with a single-minded perfection and attention to detail.

I used to think that if anybody was going to be hurt, let it be me. I dont know why i used to think that. I dont like the idea of hurting someone I love. Years later these small parts of me still exist. They are kept in a cold damp place without sunlight, and will be forever mourned by me. Thats the truth that i can accept. Its like ghost busters, sometimes when you put the ghost of memory in the rest of them rush out in an attempt to live again. And you have to confront each and every one of them again.

Today is that day. I feel so much like myself. I remember who and what i am so clearly. Maybe its the fever, maybe its that stale taste in my mouth, that feeling of being completely alone. Of being sick to my stomach. I suddenly remember what its like to feel loved, i suddenly understand what it means to love somebody, to ache, to want. Suddenly i dont feel nothing. The peace around me shatters like thin glass. I feel like i'm dying. I feel the increasing urge to throw up, to beat myself senseless just to get away from all the hurt, taking the pills just to drift into a dreamless sleep. I feel like crying, huddled alone in a corner, backed up clutching my hands to my chest. I feel like that day on the undecided shoot. When i wanted to jump off the building, but i didnt because we still had the other half to shoot. I feel like i would do anything just to get away from this feeling. I almost cant take it.

Sometimes i think its sheer stubbornness that keeps me from doing all those things. Mostly I think I dont throw up because vomit in my nose is uncomfortable. I dont take sleeping pills because they didnt work the last time. I wont beat myself up because it'll just make me feel worse. I havent cried when i felt like this since that night at bar none. I learnt to cry on the inside and pretend to be alright on the outside. I wont jump off the building because i'm too much of a coward, and Sammy's coming to visit by some fluke chance. It wouldn't be fair to place my burdens on him or anyone for that matter. I've learnt to cope alone. I've learnt to distrust everyone. I've learnt to not let my vulrnerabilities show. Except for Tanya this morning, and John, nobody really knows what its like. I trust Sam somehow, right now i wish i could talk to her, but it won't be fair because like Sidney said, dont ruin the mood for all the happy people.

I think shes happy. I think everybodys happy. I feel like some abnormaly. I feel like cutting me off from the world. Where i can go alone and die in peace. Without people giving me that twinkle of hope that things will get better. Summoning the courage from my already battered soul to try to live again.

Sammy said i'm caught in a rut. I guess thats what it is sometimes. And at times like this i know exactly why i'm in a rut. Because i cant afford to have my hopes dashed again. If anything, this seratonin difficency is good for one thing. I experience a sense of clarity, the shades of grey disappear, and everything is black and white. Maybe thats why so many great writers are depressed. I know exactly how to stop it, and i know exactly how bad it can get, and its going to get. I'm know enough to say "never say never", but as far as this kind of low goes, theres nothing lower than this. Maybe if it were compounded with something else it would be worse. But right now this is all i have to deal with.

At the very least i'm happy denise never had to go through this. I'm shocked that Tanya understands, i dont expect anyone to. The saddest thing is that i should be over the moon this chinese new year esp, but i feel a deep sense of regret. The oddest thing happened, I was confronted by my worst fear. And it really tears me up inside, it puts everything into perspective. I dont think i'll ever stop loving once i've started.

Barely

We are the boy kings,
We are the Peter Pans' of Easters Past.
We are hope of youth,
We are the blind and foolish lies
We are the ones who mean it,
Of what we mean we never know.
We are the restless folly
Who give up more than we could ever know.
We know the universal value
We think all the glitters is gold
We are the Pagans worship
We are Pandora's saving grace.
We are the ones who stand proud
Whom Death is lover more than foe
We rush into things never frightened
Never second thought nor second guess
We take the things we want to be
Living seconds not second best
We are the badly written
With neither rhyme nor poise nor pose
We are the youngest boy kings
The scent of youth upon our brow
Blest with the niavety in abundance
We rule from our castles high

It was never just, It might have been the justice or the jester

I want to be happy, but not light and flighty
I want to be sad, but not cripplingly caught
I want to be full, but not compalcent
I want to be empty, but not hopeless
I want to be inspired, but not wishful
I want to be dead, but not on the outside

Seython thu was of thi modur boron.
He bleeds like you,
Sheds solemn tears like you,
Laughed so freely, once like you,
He smiled to spite the moonlit nights
Where he learnt the why, and how it meant to like you
He was and is, and hoped to be
Now dismayed, for trice betrayed
By things he held most dearly
In the things that stirred within,
He hoped, and dashed them dearly.

Pick me up and turn me round
And spin me till we all fall down
Will be giddy, will be glee
I wish for all eternity
I write for you, and shooting stars
And things for wishes long since past
I long to hear the charming bells
And peals of laughter from the well
Pick me up like chocolate
And other richly, sweet sensations
Pick me when the spirits rise
And orange courage shades my eyes
Then let me down and send me off
With your tender kisses and darling laugh
I'd walk a step and turn a round
For you would never let me down.

At Lonim

Click, a shutter speeds, to catch a fallen star

Click, and flutter, broken memory jars

On the corner of a Milk Carton

There are many children missing today. Very few are important to us, and even fewer are important to me. Since this blog is mine, and you are reading my blog, maybe, just maybe, you might care about what i care about.

He was a good kid, he wanted to do the best in everything he did.
He wanted to be the lover, fighter poet and madman that every human being aspired to.
He was the first one in a fight and the last one out.
He used to carry his brother on his back and run all over the house.
He couldn't sit still and do one thing at a time.
He once set booby traps for his mother coming home from work after he watched home alone.
He chipped his front teeth playing on the double decker bed with his brother.
He never had enough toys, though he loved each and everyone of them.
He could never let go when people died.
He was the one crying the hardest at funerals never believing that they were gone.
He consoled the most people at funerals, giving them tissue and lending shoulders where he could.
He always believed life was his oyster.
He believed it was always better to break than to bend.
He believed in being a rock for those who loved him, so when the world goes wrong for them they will always have a familiar place to lick their wounds.
He believed in always putting others first because he believed he could never be broken by the world.
He believed he could have his cake and eat it too.
He believed everyone was beautiful and truly wonderful on the inside it was just a matter of getting to that part of them.
He believed every stranger was a friend he hadn't met, and it was just a matter of being friendly and open, so they could be open to you.
He believed that honnesty always started with the self, and being honnest with yourself opened your eyes to the way the world really worked.
He is loved by many, though he might have gone too far away to realise that.
He wanted somebody he didnt love to be his first girlfriend, because he thought being a player was cool.
He once broke up with a girl because she was wrong for him and he didnt love her.
He was more upset than he expected and didnt eat for a whole month, he was really sorry for hurting her feelings.
He promised to try his best not to break any hearts.
He thought all that about not hating the player and hating the game was such bullshit.
He believed the player propogated the game.
He once found someone who took his breath away, coloured his world.
He loved her the moment he met her.
He played Capteh with her on the Christmas of '97 at the porch of MGS.
He waited two hours for her once because she was late, and when she came he didnt recgonise her.
He would have done anything for her, and probably still would.
He once told her, "I can have any woman in this world, but with all my heart I want to be with you."
He actually believed that.
He eventually had his heart broken when she left him for someone else.
He believed as long as she was happy he would love her enough to be happy for her.
His heart never fully recovered.
He has a really great friend who ate Cadbury White chocolate with him on the top of a swing at a playground thats no longer there.
He knew at that moment it was the begining of a beautiful friendship.
His friend and he never argue.
He used to drink himself silly, tell jokes and laugh do stupid things like going to church camp drunk.
He believed in brotherhood.
He believed in putting any and everything down for his brother.
He went on the rebound once, with a girl whos value he could not see clearly.
He completed X-Com Apocalypse while he was with her.
He very seldom completes games because he gets bored of them.
He thinks X-Com Apocalypse is a really good game.
He regrets completing X-Com Apocalypse.
He used to go to her house after tuition to tell her that she should give him another chance and he'd be better this time.
He would listen to Best of the Beast he borrowed from his best friend on the way to her place.
He never really go to talk to her, as she'd usually tell him to go home.
He couldn't tell the difference between being a stalker and being sincere.
He didnt date for a very long time because he was sick of letting people down.
He sat on the roof of the church in school to watch a soccer match with his best friend once.
His best friend told him things will eventually pick up.
He believed in waiting.
He believed that good things come to those who wait.
He liked to smile and laugh.
He used to laugh whenever he felt his world was crashing down on him.
He never got into gangsterism.
He believed that people should make love not war.
He believed in non-violence.
He believed violence and anger were the last resorts of the feeble minded.
He believed in protecting those who couldn't protect themselves.
He once took a beating for someone and then carried him home after.
He always believed no matter what happened he could always take care of himself.
He believed if there ever came a day when he couldn't the poeple who he took care of would help him.
He believed in kharma.
He believed in God.
He prayed to God almost every night.
He always prayed for wisdom.
He prayed to know what was the right thing to do.
He prayed that the ones he loved would have an easy life.
He prayed for a hard life.
He believed hardship was essential to building character.
He prayed to have the strength to do the right thing even though it may be the hardest thing in the world.
He believed that his character was the most important thing to him.
He had girls have crushes on him.
He always turned them down because he didnt want to break their hearts.
He thought the girls were very pretty.
He wished the girls had come at a better time.
He always took a long time to heal.
He believed in giving until it hurt.
He believed in loving until there was nothing left.
He didnt believe in halfway.
He believed that you cannot measure love.
He believed that giving all you can was enough.
He once got insanely drunk.
He tried to chase a chicken.
He tried to bowl with coconuts.
He tried to spin in circles.
He ended up falling on the floor.
He still has the dark blue cotton GAP long sleeve shirt he wore that night.
He really doesn't remember very much from that night.
He drank a full glass of whiskey, vodka, congac, and god knows what else topped up with beer.
He had never been to a drinking session before that.
He never knew that being drunk could ever be so fun.
He was busy getting drunk after that.
He once brought a bottle of Tequila to school.
He panicked when there was a bag check that day.
He mixed Tequila shooters later that day for everyone.
He made two tequila shots for two girls in a staircase.
He cut himself while cutting the lemon.
He found out he liked sweet wines.
He thought it was port but it was actually Muscat Wine.
He once brought a bottle of port to school.
He couldn't really be bothered with home econs.
He already knew how to cook and clean and sew.
He kicked himself out of class because he had a bottle of port that day.
His best friend kicked himself out of class as well.
His best friend was pleasently suprised to find the bottle of port.
He shared some wine in the staircase in school.
He got his friend drunk before recess.
He told his friend "Oei this one cannot ta-h, its very strong."
He laughed when he found out that his friend had the discpline master's period after recess.
He studied one month before his "O"'s.
He came in third in class.
He met this chick from Ngee Ann Mass Communications in 2000.
He decided to go to MCM.
He was introduced to The Smashing Pumpkins by her.
He heard For Martha and immediately fell in love with them.
He thought being in MCM was cool.
He hung out in the MCM channel on IRC.
He met another girl there one day.
He thought she was abit lame when she thought Sirius was a character from Harry Potter.
He thought she was cool because she was into Metaphysics.
He liked that she was really shy.
He met her at the fountain inside Takashimaya.
He bought a pair of Timberland boots that day.
He thought she wasn't that great looking.
He didnt really know what to say but neither did she.
He felt really ackward.
He was wondering if she felt that way too.
He went to work at Country Mana after his "O"'s.
He used to meet her after work as often as he could.
He used to smell of chicken when he did.
He liked talking to her.
He liked talking to her at the playground near her house.
He liked talking to her about everything under the stars.
He got turned down by her three times when he tried to get her to be his girlfriend.
He thought he was the hottest shit in the world and it was all a done deal anyway.
He didnt know the importance of timing and atmosphere.
He had everything explained to him one day.
He got it right eventually.
He was the happiest boy in the world.
He wanted to marry her.
He promised to make this work.
He promised it'd be the last time.
He promised he'd end his life if he couldn't make things work.
He wanted to make her the happiest girl in the world.
He saved up two paychecks and took out all the money in his bank to buy her a Tiffany ring.
He thought she deserved the best.
He wanted to be the best for her.
He thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world.
He laughed every day.
He smiled every day.
He couldn't remember ever being so happy.
He met up with his ex.
He tried to comfort her because she needed him.
He couldn't get back with her because it wasn't fair.
He wished the timing had been better.
He wished she never had to suffer.
He wished he could do something more.
He thought that was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.
He got into MCM.
He thought she was the most supportive girlfriend he ever had.
He thought she was the shizz.
He often thought after all he'd done he hadn't done enough.
He wanted to do more and more.
He never wanted to stop because he thought nothing was ever good enough.
He eventually hit the one year mark.
He began to panic.
He didnt know what came next.
He's never been with anyone that long.
He went to sheesha with her after TV.
He never really knew what was going on but he liked being with her.
He picked up smoking at a mahjong table one chinese new year.
He was angry because she left.
He thought what the hell.
He wanted to do something for himself.
He wanted to do something for someone else.
He wanted some other response than just leaving.
He picked up smoking.
He knew she hated it.
He thought she should learn to live with it.
He hated her leaving.
He should have learnt to live with it.
He wanted to give up.
He wanted to give up.
He wanted to give up.
He wanted to believe that he loved her enough to make things work.
He learnt that sometimes love just aint enough.
He knew eventually things were going to end.
He watched Closer with her.
He met his friends at Attar after things ended.
He laughed and joked that night.
He didnt realise things were over until three days later.
He promised that at the very least they'd try to be friends.
He went to Melbourne for a holiday.
He thought things might get better if he went somewhere away from the memories.

He did, he lost them all. Now he's somewhere far away. Forever lost. I guess we all get lost once in awhile. Sometimes someone comes to find us, sometimes sometimes no one does. Sometimes its too late when they do. If you know this boy then help me find him. He barely remembers who he is or where he left off. It was his birthday not too long ago. I wanted to celebrate it with him but there was someone else instead.

Hugs and kisses to loved ones and lost ones. Muses and users. Happy birthday me.

Real

The games that we played
The life that we made
The truths that once, meant something
All thats become in the words that mixed muddled minds
Is the pultrid pungent stench of meaningless chiches
The beauty is lost the beast that was found
The turn of an unfriendly century
What now I have known, the raving moon she bows low
Is time that passes in the loudests of silence
Then we bow till we break we gamble and trade
For the life that we played
And the games that we made
For the travesty that once, meant something

A funeral for structure

Fast as flight through depths of night
Under stars and magic sights
No i'll never, ever turn around
Ease my way to solid ground
Reveal this world that calls to me
Anticipate the end I long to be
'Love' you cry and soon I wished the end of flight

Spare me the tears and sympathy my darling
Spare the sweet charade of how you feel right now
My lover dear dont cry to me
And tell me how you cannot see
What things have come to be

Spare me the regret, the looking back and what if's
Spare me the sweet charade of what things could be right now
Lover dear dont make me cry
Dont make me see
And most of all my darling sweet, dont make me want to believe

Spare me the broken hearted charade
Spare me the lull of the sweet serenade
Spare me the empty promises
Spare me the scent of you
Spare me the tender words from your tender lips
Spare me the heart that i've broken for you
Spare me the timeless tango we so badly danced
Spare me the regret while i take my plunge

If you will not love me enough to make me believe
Spare me the lies i'd tell just to live
I'd rather not believe in anything
At least i'd die with a sense of dignity
Just let me lie and plunge the depths into the surface of a restful peace

Poetry for the post i didnt publish

Pleasure first through meeting minds
Instincts creep through solid signs
Joyful bubbles burst through skies
Sleep among the endless lies
Timely comely we define
Never did you care to find
Solace in a broken mind
Truth among the rambling rhymes
Laughter in the senseless sighs
And lastly hope in empty times

Soul Marionette

Little star you've come so far,
So twinkle light as threads of lace
Bind them to a marionette
And dance upon my flickering faith
As warmth exudes from tender touch
And bodies move while fingers brush
My sight at rest, my dry lips part
A silent wish upon your touch

For You

Murder most maliciously mild
Envy entails endless exile
Longing, lust, lost lovers left
Ingrained instincts incite inquest
Neglection. natureless night nests
Abysm, alive adoring abscess


Look at the stars, and how they shine