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[yenzibenji]

I don’t like legos. it’s not because I think I’ve outgrown them, I’ve just never graduated from duplo.

[yenzibenji]

Growing up is the world ever unfolding,

And the piece u own forever shrinking,

One day I will be on my rocking chair left with the bittersweet tang of hindsight,

With each wrinkle a story is preserved,

For as the world unfolds my skin pleats,

And one day I will be left for the Earth to eat,

Dear Mother Nature,

Bon apetit!

[yenzibenji]

I miss when my fathers word was gospel and my mothers was shelter

[yenzibenji]

If sleeping beauty were sleeping average would her eyes ever open?

If Snow White weren’t the fairest would she wake ?

If the little mermaid had gills instead of a nose would she find love?

Who knows?

Women know

Is beauty pain or is pain beauty? Which came first, the chicken or the egg, the surgeries or the dread?

It doesn’t matter because boys want you to give them head

“SLUT” a big red S was stamped onto her forehead because an ass assumed her ass was up for grabs and assaulted when she did not oblige

I know what I just said disappointed the feminists before me but if I said otherwise my words will be used as ammunition against my fellow women and if I’m silent I’m complacent if I scream I am ungrateful

Why must my cries for help be eloquent when babies don’t cry “please give me food” no they wail and are loved

Please baby me, you don’t have to call me baby but inside is little girl who yearns to be soothed

[yenzibenji]

The first movie was the story of A spiderman, but the sequel is the story of spiderman as an IP and the timeless debate between new and older generations about continuity and changes. Debates that were also sparked the moment spiderman “became black” in the eyes of the public. Mile’s struggle in the movie mirrors his struggle as a character of not quite being accepted into the community.

Lord and Miller rlly pulled another lego movie with their meta-commentary

[yenzibenji]

AND we all know that ariel would try to cover herself in human stuff like nets and she wouldn’t even realise that it’s used to catch fish so her dad would hate it bc her mom probably died from it or something and like we all know a good tail starts from under the hip bone

Just realised that the live action little mermaid was such a missed opportunity to be a love letter to the professional mermaid community, the majority of which was INSPIRED by the original! They missed the chance to go all out with mermaid core when Ariel is a MERMAID PRINCESS! Make her sparkle ✨ they even removed her ICONIC seashell bra and now the only thing remotely interesting ab her design is her hair like live action adaptations normally ADD detail to the designs (Cinderella‘s live action dress even though it suits bell better than her) but everything looks so bland and the dry for wet cgi looks off putting especially after we’ve been spoilt by The Way of Water. Like imagine if they got a professional mermaid to design her and be like a stunt double for swimming scenes and used ACTUAL water. Besides, Halle Bailey is already trained with filming underwater thanks to avatar. I know it’s know easier said than done but this is Disney, the company that owns everything.

[yenzibenji]

Just realised that the live action little mermaid was such a missed opportunity to be a love letter to the professional mermaid community, the majority of which was INSPIRED by the original! They missed the chance to go all out with mermaid core when Ariel is a MERMAID PRINCESS! Make her sparkle ✨ they even removed her ICONIC seashell bra and now the only thing remotely interesting ab her design is her hair like live action adaptations normally ADD detail to the designs (Cinderella‘s live action dress even though it suits bell better than her) but everything looks so bland and the dry for wet cgi looks off putting especially after we’ve been spoilt by The Way of Water. Like imagine if they got a professional mermaid to design her and be like a stunt double for swimming scenes and used ACTUAL water. Besides, Halle Bailey is already trained with filming underwater thanks to avatar. I know it’s know easier said than done but this is Disney, the company that owns everything.

[yenzibenji]

I LOVE “kid’s” shows because they lack the pretentious-ness of “mature” ones that have superficial elements for shock value. Heavy topics are much more subtle and true because the ARTISTS behind these shows have to fight for them to be included. In a world where teen titans go is encouraged and their medium is looked down upon, they still fight to have their stories told and voices heard. Now THAT’S art!

(This however does mean that anytime I try to show a friend something I like it just comes off as silly but honestly that makes it even better)

[yenzibenji]

He had cold feet, I had dirty hands

Rose-tinted lenses and rosettes in hair. My fingernails tapped the steering wheel with giddy as the headlights’ white spilt onto the road forward— illuminating a minuscule radius ahead while piercing through the solemn night. A quiet night. A date night.

His neighbourhood was dead silent (which was a regular occurrence) as I approached his dirt pathway, some would condemn his lack of chivalry but I’m just the better driver.

He peered from behind the ebony door clad in a dapper tie— charmingly overdressed as per usual. Following an exchange of sheepish smiles, his Oxfords and my heels shuffled to stuff ourselves in my Mini Cooper. “Jesus Christ!”. It was only then under the interior car dome lights did the bags he wore under his eyes become apparent like a grim shadow cast by his sunken sockets. How many nights of slumber had he missed? He remained as silent as the world outside during my interrogation; I decided to not prod any further despite my bleeding concern. Normally, I’d find him getting cold feet cute, but tonight was degrees colder than usual.

I wished to pull over and bring him into my arms in a warm embrace. I wished to whisper in his ear sweet nothings. I dreamt of being his safety blanket. But all that we could do was marinate in the echoes of cheesy radio pop songs until we reached the cafe.

Unveiled from the darkness of the car, he gawked breathlessly at the flourishing frills I was adorned in under the shower of warm light. Giving a smile, a twirl and a reach for his hand, we made our way to a quaint table that sat in quietude by the window. His fingers laid frigid intertwined with mine like frost entangled around liquid sunlight. “Click clack, cling clang” everyone else’s cutlery tap-danced against the plates but the symphony dissipated one by one.

The ‘musician’s’ hands froze still and their mouths hung agape. Is true love really that surprising these days? The clicks of a keypad became the beat of the saxophone sung by the speakers and everyone’s breath became more apparent. “Look we can just leave alright? We don’t have to become victims for them to judge us all night long” I leaned over the table while suggesting into his ear but I think that he was paralysed in fear. Fine then, let them point and gossip. Our date was not going to be ruined.

“Excuse me! Waiter please!” I playfully drew out the vowels and waved my hand in the air. An unsuspecting girl popped up from the cashier in a jolt and tiptoed to our table, “Um w-welcome, what w-would you like to order? O-our soup of the day is pumpkin” she forced a smile, “Pumpkin soup sounds lovely, make it two please” I ordered on his behalf. The girl nodded and scurried behind the counter huddled with her colleagues muttering. Was pumpkin soup that unheard of?

I glared at the clique until light flashed between red and blue in an angry frenzy. “Woop woop!”. The cafe jumped onto its feet at the sound of sirens, except for us. “Bam!” the door swung open. “Hands in the air and step away from the corpse!” a man in blue yelled, motioning to him— the love of my life who sat on his chair patiently. I looked at his glassy eyes glazed over in barren. “He’s more than a dead body, he’s mine!” I screamed and my chair hit the floor. “Ma’am, I said hands in the air!” the officer’s grip suffocated the gun. My arms rose, my hands were up, and my fingernails were dirty from the dug-up dirt from his grave. I just wanted one more night. The night he promised me. A date night.

[yenzibenji]

Only Lonely During a Holy Matrimony

Like animals around a waterhole, we are sitting around the table with elbows politely tucked into our sides as the bride and groom pop champagne. You’d think they are characters on broadway from how they exaggerate their own traits; turning themselves into caricatures to fit the familiar familial facade. Though we had not met in years, the family still remembered how to play their roles to a T: the perky aunts, drunk uncles, pretty daughters and me — the screw-up.

My granduncle is an alcoholic (proven by the beer belly) but lucky for him intoxication is celebrated at family gatherings. Maybe it is the only way we tolerate each other. His tie is hanging low loosely around his collar as he wipes off the droplets from his feverish forehead with a grin. Then wiping off the said droplets from his hand onto his pants — the same pair I saw him in all those years ago. While cackling like Santa in a drunken stupor blesses to forget all transpiring small talk by the next morning, his hair swayed in white whisps.

My aunt to my left however remembers any word uttered. She collects gossip like coupon cards ever ready to be used to her advantage at the expense of her victims. She purses her painted lips, still ruminating the future of the newlyweds as if it was her own matrimony, but it is hard to read what she truly felt about the couple under the layers of foundation caked on in an attempt to feign youth. I knew what she thought about me though, I knew how she pities my parents and revelled in having her daughter’s ranking be cemented above mine. There was a hint of schadenfreude I suppose.

Her daughter sat a handful of seats away from the woman and her husband’s empty seat. He is busy rubbing elbows with the more wealthy relatives in the hopes of securing a business deal. I was struggling to remember the girl’s face which is only made harder by the fact that she was hiding it behind her phone all night. She is probably texting her boyfriend how much she wants to sprint out of the wedding hall. I may only be a few years older but it was culture shock seeing the toddler I once knew reappear in my life on the cusp of womanhood. Her fingers tap against her screen while her disposition sours as the night went on. She is old enough to scrutinise everyone’s insincerity but too young to pretend to not notice. Puberty, am I right?

The groom finishes the repetitive song and dance of proposing a toast as the hall stood on its feet with glasses raising to the sky. Champagne was catching the light in its chokehold, dimming the rays. But alas, the light survives and manages to beam through. The sharp percussion of the clinking of glasses pierces through the hall. My table erupts in cheers while everyone clinks each other’s glasses together as a nod of approval. My glass was lonely in my still hand. No ‘clinks’ for me.

[yenzibenji]

We’ll be a page in a chapter retconned by god

Crumpled into the waste bin

With all the other has-beens

If the Bermuda has no way out

Then boy im a sailor

I am to my scars what the moon is to a crater

We are deserted by our creator

Yet I know it’s you he favoured

[yenzibenji]

The bisexual experience is literally just:

😍😋😚😫🥸🥺🥹😡😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🐁

[yenzibenji]

Shiny terrifying gorgeous screaming heart-broken forest-dwelling groundbreakingly rendered CGI women killing men who stole things from them by the dozen is my new favourite gender ✨

[yenzibenji]

Glass Onion shows that good plot twists answer more questions than they raise.

Also like checkov’s gun was having a field day, no thread was left untied, not even silly character quirks

[yenzibenji]

My arms wear like pounds of limp chains and the window I observe from is laced in smudged prints of digits of those who attempted to peer though. But they do not understand this window.

It is one way glass.

“Try to find my eyes if you can, but you’ll only stare into your own”, I warn onlookers. But deep down I know that I’m the true onlooker, unable to derive words from muffled voices, unable to be burnt by the sun, unable to love.

“Do not peer for long” I warn to keep them from having a glimpse of my teary eyes through the obsidian film. I am the coward trying to fearmonger. I am the broken girl behind the two faced glass.

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I don’t want to feel hollow

But I fear overflowing

Sensing is overwhelming

This might be a hard pill to swallow

I’ m afraid I’ll choke

But it’s you I want to follow

Sorrow sorrow sorrow sorry

Envy envy envy ending me

Borrow borrow borrow burrowed

In yearly dearly dealthy debt

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Oh how I yearn for the burn,

I don’t care how I blister,

Reunite me with the fire and let me kiss her,

A scorched tongue aches less than flowing thoughts,

Externalise the scars before I am caught,

“Fraud, fraud” I vividly imagine them jeer,

Let me lay on her lap here,

Her curves sting but they boil away the tears of fear