Monday, February 28, 2011
Blah, blah, blah.
I doubt we will emerge from this hurricane unscathed.
I wanted to tell you how you ruined it by saying it out loud, but I didn't have the heart.
Rachael yamagata echoes keep it kind, keep it good, keep it right...
If ever we could escape as friends again, I will perhaps toast to celebrate.
Grand victory, but count the lost men+collateral damage then sit in the dark and seethe in pain.
In name we won but in the phantom battle played on loop in our minds and hearts, we will always lose.
Monday, February 21, 2011
I would like to leave first but I can't bear it. You could, though.
Damn it.
Been having a great, if not passable time at work, but happiness is always so short-lived.
One by one the departures, I wonder if it affects everyone else this much..
This group of people who gracefully accepted me into their social circle, has made me feel for a moment less dispensable.
I have given away parts of myself and now I can't have them back. I have reached a point in life where I am no longer able to stand people leaving me, I am tamed, without the youth and vigour to say it's time I move on to the next phase, welcome new people discard the old.
Everybody's leaving and I won't feel the same.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Grey spots on the concrete floor are appearing much faster than I had imagined, but I only want to stay here.
Protect my books with plastic but nothing protects me.
Got a new pack of ice blast thought I liked it but already I don't.
The breeze is good but thought of death never leaves once you admit you are seduced.
I couldn't force you to take me in and this upsets me more than anything else.
*
Some 'kind residents' had called the police on me today. I was at my usual hangout, in my comfort zone, just lying down. They thought that I had off-ed myself. If they were a couple of yards closer they might have heard Seawolf begging "please don't lie, don't lie to me, that you're not afraid, My Love". I jerked up suddenly aware of eyeballs scrutinizing me from the adjacent blocks, when policemen came striding over, I was about to flip those by-watchers off, then further behind i see paramedics pushing a foldable stretcher. Held back the finger. Oh my god what on earth.
In the end they had to take my blood pressure using a complicated tool-box thing as precaution while I laughed it off, repeatedly saying no, no, I was just enjoying the view, of course I'm not suicidal. That last sentence lingers resonant like an odd note.
I should stop feeling like this.
On the surface I'm unable to pinpoint my emotions, but deep inside I know my feelings to be a quiet anger, despair, and some sort of betrayal. It's all very alarming, this cocktail of angst, veiled by a fog of confusion. It's like hearing through blocked ears, everything sounding muffled and far away, you are replying so clearly you are in the conversation but there is this other set of feelings and thoughts that you experience that you cannot share with anyone else. No one shares the same discomfort, nor realize that internally you are struggling with yourself.
I wish you would speak to me again. I wish you wouldn't shun me because this is how I learn to cope, because right now I feel utterly alone.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Sorrow comes over me like a pang. And when writting cannot heal me like it used to, when nothing quenches the dull throbbing ache in my heart, what do I do? I sit here on the sidewalk, very still, and pray that it passes soon.
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
Too feisty for love.
I'm in that 'odd state of the soul' where at once I feel and think of everything and nothing.
If I put it in pictures it would be like standing in the middle of a crossroad while people bustle by, oblivious to my presence. The world inches along, opportunities flash in my face and blink away. But none of these has anything to do with me. Today I am undone.
I am standing one street down watching myself. I watch curious and nervous, because that figure I know to be myself has not done anything yet, just standing and I suppose breathing, and I believe that she is folding her arms. I have no idea when she will begin to move and I stare wide-eyed at this alien existence like deer in headlights. I wonder if she notices me. This part of herself that has involuntarily detached from her physical body and floated away, mute and unable to call out to her, wait for me, I am right behind you, can't you see.
I pray she wouldn't leave me because then nothing would matter. I wouldn't matter.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
I'm covetous of many things but what I yearn for most right now is for all our holiday plans to take shape and take flight.
I'm sick of here and this useless feeling of being stuck in one place, everything pending at "PONR" (point of no return), unable to proceed/backtrack. Over here it's so stifling and crammed with people that I can barely hear myself think. By 2015 there will be no empty fields left and I need to vacate myself before the next high-rise sprouts up outside my window and execute their plan for world domination..
I CANNOT be here when this happens, because- and I'm not exaggerating- it literally pains me.
At the moment many holiday plans have been verbally agreed upon but they are still shapeless smoke swirling overhead.
But I'm determined to at least see through with another trip to Australia.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
It's not him who'd come across the seas to surprise you
Not him who knows where in London to find you
Everything barely hanging in balance, while you're the one perched on the fulcrum, busy shifting your weight from foot to foot to keep the scales from toppling
but you can't stop pieces of life from falling out the moment you let your attention slip. These lost things you can't recover.
And as time drags on, you lose parts of yourself, bigger parts.
You lose to time and turbulence.
You can't get off the fulcrum, because quitting is an admission of failure.
It's a confession that this life is too much for you to take..
And also because you're tied to about ten other people whom you still give a fuck about.
Maybe I feel so pent up because I'm stuck in a rut while watching other people move forward. People who are going away, sourcing for alternative plans that are actually plausible, people who appear worried but know they might actually do well, people who are not worried because they embrace whatever outcome as providential design. The only wrong thing to do is to do nothing. Maybe that's why I feel so uneasy all over. I wish moving forward can be as simple as a symbolic wiping of lipstick stain off your girlfriend's mug after she had died. But it isn't, because in reality things can haunt you forever, and people who have moved forward may regress.
