Pickles n' Tickles by JJ

The Old Tree  I am telling you the Old Tree across the street has got eyes, a pointy nose and lots of hair. It seems so real that it may quietly come to life when you're not looking. Close your windows, My love, before you go to bed. I don't want the Old Tree peeking at you while you're fast asleep on your naked ass. Or I'll come over  and chop that tree down for Firewood. But I won't worry much for there is a younger and beautiful tree in your own lawn and the Old Tree might just decide to stick to its kind. Even then, close your windows, My Love. You might just a catch a cold and have a headache for the rest of the day.

THIS is something that came out of my classes with Alina Rastam some years ago. It was during a time when I needed some healthy distractions from my what I was doing at that point. Needed to look at life from a different side, so from the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre, I ended up in Alina's small, group classes at her quiet home in Bangsar. I loved it.   Photo By Richard Heeks My bubble my world travels beyond the skies where air is slippery and things move dreamily like molasses sliding down a glass. My bubble my freedom not a trapped butterfly in a jar or a domestic parekeet in the wild it's like dolphins in the deep sea that swim and swirl and whirl without boundaries or worries to see. My bubble my featherbed is a carbonation of comfort an oxidation of pleasure of playful secrets and fantasies of earnest hopes and dreams of love, joy and peace. My bubble my element sphere and familiar never stale with routine or sick with doing nothi...