Lifes a bitch and so am I

It seems i have to learn to live, stop whinning etc. Well heres news, everybody needs to learn to live, its not some natural instinct you get when you wake up in the morning. Maybe it is, you wake up and say ur going to be happy and you actually are. Ha, as if. I am a chemical construct! haha. My brain functions on electrical impulses, caused by chemicals mixing together. I act on those impulses because my brain blocks out all other alternatives. Sometimes i wish i could transcend that. Sometimes i think there was a time that i did. If that is true, is my brain broken now? Sigh i wish i knew. I'm already properly damaged, manhandled, broken, uninspired, lacking direction and overall sense of reasoning, now i have to deal with this idea that i have mental problems.

Great i've got everything now dont I. Be happy with what you have i try to tell myself. Lifes a bitch, i'd much rather be in my own world. Anti-social, reclusive, hate everyone indiscriminately, and live life to tomorrow. GrrrRRRrrr

Linger

If you, if you could return
Don’t let it burn, don’t let it fade
I’m sure I’m not being rude
But it’s just your attitude
It’s tearing me apart
It’s ruining everything
And I swore, I swore I would be true
And honey so did you
So why were you holding her hand
Is that the way we stand
Were you lying all the time
Was it just a game to you

But I’m in so deep
You know I’m such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger

Oh, I thought the world of you
I thought nothing could go wrong
But I was wrong
I was wrong
If you, if you could get by
Trying not to lie
Things wouldn’t be so confused
And I wouldn’t feel so used
But you always really knew
I just wanna be with you

And I’m in so deep
You know I’m such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to. do you have to
Do you have to let it linger

And I’m in so deep
You know I’m such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger

You know I’m such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger

i had a title for this but i forgot

maybe i'm sick, maybe i'm mentally retarded. i'm so socially inept so clueless of the clues that are tossed around like croutons in a salad. Is something wrong, i know it is, but i've had this feeling that something is so fundementally wrong for so long now i really dont know if i'd know what right if i ever find it again.

Ok i've tried everything. blaming you, blaming me, talking to people, cutting people put of my life, walking away from everything and nothing stops me thinking ever. I cant stop and i want to stop so much, i want to sleep, i want to rest my heart somewhere safe.

Lets see what the army does maybe things will change, and theres tomorrow and tomorrow and maybe tomorrows away i'll feel alright. maybe i should stop waiting to feel alright, be happy with feeling miserable, forget that i ever learnt about opposites. Forget that what feels right and what feels wrong are two different things.

i'm crashing again, its got nothing o do with kundera. All he does is remind me that i'm human. i'm sick and tired of this, god will you just throw me a bone here. i really dont want to go on. if you love me like the people in church say you do, if you're there like the people in church say you're everywhere, if things could be the way you wanted, why do you make your children suffer.

I can never find truer words than that really emotionally trying night at bar none, i wasn't crying because she left. i wasn't crying to her, i wasn't crying for her, i wasn't sad because it ended though a part of me was. i was crying because i felt my life was over, i was crying for myself because i knew i'd never be the same ever again. i hope god you will take me where i dont have to suffer anymore.

just let me go, please god let me go. let me soar and fly, let me frolick over green pastures and over blue skies, let me know that everythings going to be alright one day, just whisper in my ear when i wake up from the night, you're alright, or i'm here, thats all i want.

i've made some stupid descisions over the last year, too late to turn back now, its not regret i feel but that overwhelming sense of loss. that i lost the most important part of living. and everything is bitter now, everything is desaturated now, its like being burried under the toilet bowl.

Back to basics

More Fundemental that ABC, or 123, is Right and Left. If you thought it should be right and wrong, you are wrong. Simply becaue its an advanced theory based on right nd left. Even before we knew how to count write and communicate, we knew that we are divided into two parts. Not just divided into two distinct parts, but the duality of our singlarurity (god thats a big word i hope i spelt that right).

Its about opposites, and they dont come much more defined than right and left. What can e more basic than what we want, and what we dont want. It is in our instinct to know what we want, food, warmth, shelter, love, attention, comfort, we learn to cry, we learn to laugh, we learn to everything based on this fundemental idea of opposites.

Our thinking as human beings is based on: pick this or this, then our brain goes through if i have this i dont think i can have this, and we choose between what we'd rather not have and what we'd rather rather not have. Our entire life is based on this idea of self. Our percived identity, our being, our uniqueness however, is not that.

Back to basics, so said the misunderstod genius, Christina. Right and left, the difference between right brain and left brain, the difference between thinking and feeling, the difference between wanting and doing, our understanding of opposites and paradoxes defines our intellect.

The way we think does not make us unique, we all ahve the same thoughts based on the same concepts that are popular today. I like House, Greys Anatomy, and Boston Legal, the idea of a damaged person is prevelant in all three, the idea and concept of love is relevant to our day and age.

This is getting no where i'll have a shot of single malt and see how it works out, ok the single malt sucks, i will have need to chain smoke as well, but it seems to be working and i can finally say what i want to say get it off my chest and stop fussing about it and making so much damm effort to retain my thoughts.

The ideas we base ALL our judgements from come from the media, the idea of love, loving too much what is love at all, whats enough and whats not is so absurdly not us. Are we just the sum of our thoughts? Might we say, I love therefore i am or I am Loved, therefore I am. The idea of what is complete and what is not, what is us and what is not, this is what we base our existance on. The value of our lives are based on what we can count and what we cant. And we, like computers count in one's and zero's.

If we were to measure our happy moments every second, we will be very unhappy. SImply beacause almost all of my happy moments have turned into ashes in my mouth, every smile now so much a thing of the past, meaningless, bitter so, nothing.

I cant do this anymore, live a lie, a life where i feel nothing but discontentment, i hate what i had to do, what i'm doing, but i'll carry on. Because i cannot be with anyone if I love them, or i'll never be happy.

I need to open my mind (Heres a blank page)

Home

You live under the delusion that you can fix everything that isn't perfect. That's why you married a man who was dying of cancer. You don't love, you need. And now that your husband is dead, you're looking for your new charity case. That's why youre going out with me. I'm twice your age, I'm not great looking, I'm not charming, I'm not even nice. What I am is what you need. I'm damaged.

Seython thu was of thi modur boron.

In the immortal words of the elephant man.

I am not an animal! I am a human being! I...am...a man!

Its more than just what you want

In this day and age when we can have anything we want, the idea of needs and wants seems so ancient, so 60s advertising. Well marketing actually. Advertising is after all just a marketing tool. The idea of what is, what is not, life issues, sense of self is so non-existant today.

I mean thats the entire thing behind the modern dilema of 100 channels and nothing to watch. Its simply because they've tried to cater to our every need and want, spoonfeeding us, making us less than what we can be.

Its more than just mind numbing, its numbing us to the soul. The problem with society today is that we've become fat and lazy. Not just in the physical sense, but in the way we expect everything to happen for us. We expect things to either work, or be returned for a full refund.

Which is why nothing works anymore. Simply because they dont work the way we expect them to. We want everything, exactly the way we want it, 3-in-1's, the next gizmo that does a hundred million functions that you dont need, the cutter, cleaner and tidy-upper thats you keep in a dark damp closet somewhere.

And we keep wanting more, more and more, and we got all these little things to fill up the spaces in our lives, to keep us going human in this world that dehumanises us. Its like living on a machine, tubes and pumps to keep you alive. Anything to rid us of wanting somebody else.

We need to love and be loved, we got pets, we need something to past the time when we're empty and dying inside, we got the TV, we need to feel connect to the world, we got the internet, we need to feel like our opinion matters, and we're not boring as fuck, we've got blogs. We need to feel like we give a damm about something, we've got Oprah, we need to know what we need and want, we've got sell-a-vision, we need a war, to remind us that our life is picture perfect, we've got Bush, we need to be human, we dont have anyone else, we've got music, we've got day time soaps, we've got everything and nothing. We've got the short end of the stick.

Anything, anything at all can be subsituted with something synthetic, something we can buy, something that we can toss when we're done with it.

After 40 years of advertising, and media, we've become this consumeristic automaton, needing, and wanting everything, taking and buying in sight. Things we think will improve the way of our life, things that fill up the little spaces in our life, removing the chinks in our self. Things that are there enough that we can deny that we're lacking anything in our lives.

And we're all diseased with a strain of "Ooooooo, Shiny". We live in our own worlds so much that sometimes we forget ourselves and our humanity in the midst of it all. And every ex lover, every lost best friend, everybody that meant something to you when you needed somebody the most, and is just not in your life anymore becomes, just another face in the crowd, another voice on the telephone, that you answer with "Hello. Who's this? Do I know you?" and you've forgotten about them, long before the eternity it takes for them to forget about you.


Somethings you just cant buy, for everything else, theres Mastercard.


And sometimes I wonder. What's that everything else?

Acoustic #3

They painted up your secrets
With the lies they told you
And the least they ever gave you
Was the most you ever knew

And I wonder where these dreams go
When the world gets in your way
Whats the point in all this screaming
No ones listening anyway

Your voice is small and fading
And you hide in here unknown
And your mother loves your father
cause shes got nowhere to go

And she wonders where these dreams go
cause the world got in her way
Whats the point ever trying
Nothings changing anyway

They press their lips against you
And you love the lies they say
And I tried so hard to reach you
But youre falling anyway

And you know I see right through you
When the world gets in your way
Whats the point in all the screaming
Youre not listening anyway

Sympathy

Stranger than your sympathy
And this is my apology
I killed myself from the inside out
And all my fears have pushed you out

And I wished for things that I don’t need
(all I wanted)
And what I chased won’t set me free
(all I wanted)
And I get scared but I’m not crawlin’ on my knees

Oh, yeah
Everything’s all wrong, yeah
Everything’s all wrong, yeah
Where the hell did I think I was?

And stranger than your sympathy
Take these things, so I don’t feel
I’m killing myself from the inside out
And now my head’s been filled with doubt

We’re taught to lead the life you choose
(all I wanted)
You know your love’s run out on you
(all I wanted)
And you can’t see when all your dreams aren’t coming true

Oh, yeah
It’s easy to forget, yeah
When you choke on the regrets, yeah
Who the hell did I think I was?

And stranger than your sympathy
And all these thoughts you stole from me
And I’m not sure where I belong
And no where’s home and no more wrong

And I was in love with things I tried to make you believe I was
And I wouldn’t be the one to kneel before the dreams I wanted
And all the dark and all the lies were all the empty things disguised as me

Mmm, yeah
Stranger than your sympathy
Stranger than your sympathy
Mmm hmmm mmm

Saturday Train

I want to be young again, I want that youthful folly that ability to make mistakes after mistakes and not care. I want to be invincible. I want to find the courage again to love until it hurts once again, to care without restraint to give without fear of ever being empty. Just one more time, the right person, the right soft cooing words, the clear blue flame that burns sharp within, just one more time.

Is it still on your mind?
Of course, it won’t let go
You could be doing the right thing
Maybe he doesn’t want to know

Its always on my mind, every action, every reaction, begs the question, am i doing the right thing. Am i being fair, am i being selfless. In the end, the only question left is am i being fair to myself, am i doing the right thing. Mostly the questions and doubt dont go away for a long time.

But, you have done wrong
And you want to make right
You can easily see
There will be a fight

Its never easy admitting how wrong we can be. How sometimes our best intentions always end up in disaster. When we try to make things right, sometimes they're just so heavy with all the old stuff that we dont even know where to start things fixing. Mostly, we just care too much, then we start fighting. To be angry, to pretend we dont care in the wise words of Joni Mitchell, "if you care, don't let them know, dont give yourself away".

So, you take him on the Saturday train
Just as it is starting to rain
And you tell it all
You feel so small
Then you’re done

Of all the ways to be intimate with somebody, nothing beats a long ride, a long walk, a long cruise to nowhere. Intimacy is not being close with someone. Its those brief moments in between when you stop talking and enjoy the presence of someone that simply completes you. Its those moments that are better than sex, or any other kind of high in the world.

Take that moment before you climax, when you feel the warm press of another body against yours. When you hold another tighter, closer, and the world, the things, the other people, everything on your mind just disappears. Yes, its still on my mind, like a phantom part of my body, that vaguely responds to intimacy.

What you’re thinking about
Is all he needs to know
You’ve made up your reasons
You hope maybe it doesn’t show

The thing about reasons is that they're 99% crap and 1% what you want to believe. Mostly all the reasons in the world dont really make any sense. Most people now, are being kept at bay, kept far far away. From my heart, form that place where they can ge to me. Mostly, i've been afraid to get too close, to get hurt. To avoid that numb feeling, staring into space, of being unable to focus your body, or your thoughts, your mind and your being, i do that thing, feign a callous indifference.

But, you have done wrong
And you want to make right
There are things on your mind
That can’t be undone

Sometimes i dont know what good it does, probably more harm than good. Of all the things that have been done, mostly they've been done wrongly, honnesty in the wrong places, lies in the wrong places, how much of it can be undone, how much of that can be taken away?

Its like saying lets start again, lets be perfect strangers, i'll pretend you dont know me, and you pretend i dont know you. We'll make up, make out, try to be young again, like we were before we got so jaded, realistic, and generally too torn up inside to laugh and joke with one another. We'll share a joke, we'll be kind and patient with one another, we'll put aside the who owes who what and try to forget those things that cant be undone.

So, you take him on the Saturday train
Just as it is starting to rain
And you tell it all
You feel so small
Then you’re done

Maybe one day i can sit down and tell you the truth. I can sit down and tell you all those things i've never told you, how things really happened with me, how messed up, how confusing, how difficult everything became. Maybe one day i can trust you to care enough, to listen, to all the more painful things. Maybe one day it'll be relevant, because there is a reason to work things out. If that day ever comes though, i doubt i'd actually say anything. If you just cared enough to listen, and not get into a fight, an argument, a disagreement, and not be disappointed with me, then... that whole conversation becomes irrelevant.

You can always change your heart, girl
You can never change your past
Will it stay inside your heart, girl?
Will it ever let you go?
Will it ever let you go?

When you really think about it, everything thats gone on. How things were once so perfect. When you really think about it, how we promised to be friends, and we, or atleast me, cant even manage that. When you really think about it, how stupid everything turned out, the drama, the needless hurt flung around. When you really really remember, why you care, why i'm writing this blog, just why. Does it grip you in your heart like it wont let you go?

When i'm not numb, i think, Its such a shame. And those four words make me sadder than alot in this world. When i eat butter-menthol, and whenever i get to the honey center, i stop being numb and indifferent. I always love those moments when it starts to rain, sometimes its a nice drizzle, cool and refreshing. Sometimes, it just suddenly pours, drenching you, it feels great to just walk like the whole world is your shower. Its not just the sunshine and the rainbows after,
its about getting soaked, playing in puddles, not giving a damm that you dont have an umbrella or a raincoat, not giving a damm if your handphone is going to be spoilt, not giving a damm if you're laughing or crying, because its raining so heavily nobody really cares. Its about being a child again.

Ta-Dah! (its a good album go get it)

Feeling fucked up is a conscious choice. Its just that most people dont. There are two fine lines, believing that the one you choose to let into your life wont hurt you, and realising that its just a matter of time before they do.

Of course then it crosses the line either way, alarm bells ring, sirens wail and you start feeling increasingly fucked up reclusive angsty, like a teenager with raging hormones and various test kits with unpredictable results.

Some part of dysfunctional me realises i've got to do something about this. The really dysfunctional parts say this is true love. The sane parts dont believe in love. The insane parts dont believe in anything really. The dyslexic parts cant even decide if love is a real word, because its been seen so many times in so many places, that if it saw vole or eolv or ovel, it'd probably much equate to the same thing. Of course there are other parts of me that feel their views warrant as much attention, but try as i might i honnestly cannot deal with even a quarter of the million thoughts a second my brain is capable of.

Alcohol seemed like the answer, slow down the brain and u can deal with the thoughts. After much drinking and lack of consideration, i've come to realise that its a lost cause. Fun yes, lost yes as well, meaningless no, stupid, grudgingly yes.

But i digress. Problem i dont know what to think. The solution is actually quite simple, believe that you made the right choice, stick with it, then hang around with people who reinforce your choice. Ta-dah!

Cu them out, hang around, it all amounts to the same thing. I prefer cutting though, especially since i've gotten too used to it. Cut my self, cut other people out, it all amounts to the same thing, you cant cut someone off without cutting off some part of yourself, and i'm letting go so easily now. And on a good day, i can believe that.

Its all so easy when you stop caring, wanting to care, and hoping to feel something that means something.

3 A.M. on the Saturday Train

Thanks to the only one of you who told me you liked my last post. I'm sure there are more of you who cant be bothered to hit the comment button or drop me a mesage on msn. Here am i at 3 A.M. listening to 3 A.M. thinking about nothing i'd bother you with.

Its really hard to write original stuff, think or write in an original way. I need the right song on repeat the right person to write to in my mind, sometimes its persons. Writing is one of the few things i actually enjoy in life. That and reading, and i do think I write and read because i've got nobody to talk to. Sometimes i have the words to say them, but most times i don't. Because very few people actually create the atmosphere for a good conversation.

The biggest things that ucks about being single is there is nobody to sit down with and have a nice chat about something, nothing, or everything with at a quiet corner in a coffee place. And I think i've found the best spot, sometimes i think its quite a shame. But i've grown to like being single, funnily enough, i'm starting to enjoy the moments of solitude. Having written that, i wonder how true that statement is. Well no point thinking it to bits.

I was thinking about this blog and i should probably put a big disclaimer, "If you're not depressed, dont expect yourself to understand everything." I cant wait for the army. Well not really, its like waiting for an orgy with only gay men. I hope my asshole survives the other assholes. It'll probably be stretched beyond constipation by the time they're done with what they so affectionately call "Wake up our idea".

Alot of things dont make any sense. Actually everything pakes perfect sense. SInce you're reading this i can tell you there was a pause of what seemed like five minutes and was actually 20 seconds in between thouse two sentences. It just amazes me how stupid poeple can be.

Everybody wants a somebody who has passion. They want somebody who inspires them, to greater things. They want that person in touch with their inner child, whos eyes light up when they talk about something they love, that little spark of curiousity, intrigue, that little thing that they do that brightens up everything in view. And, so they feel like life has a sense of purpose, meaning, beauty.

I've seen more often than most, actually women giving up on relationships when their guy is on a down, when they're finding their way around the dark. Poor guys sometimes never even had a chance to properly pick themselves up and rebuild themselves before they get thrown down by the ones they love. Sure men do it, but none really that i know of.

Acutally most of the guys i know are pretty good. I'm sure there are more complete assholes out there, but i just dont associate myself with them.

My song for the night has suddenly changed to Saturday Train, by the Acid House Kings.

Sometimes i feel like the world has got it for me, like everything thats done is a huge joke played on me. At the back of my mind is that lingering paranoia, Dont trust, Dont open up, dont let them ever get close enough to you to hurt you, dont take a chance, just be content being like this, you're not ready to be hurt yet. Sometimes i wonder if i'll every be ready to get hurt again. There are some people i'd trust time and time again, just say the word and like a pathetic fool, i'd leap into your arms again. Ok, i'm talking about one person but there are actually a few out there.

My eyes have been really dry since the bar none night, it was certianly a night to remember, bar none. I've got this annoying fake plastic smile on most of the time, and it feels oddly like cotton mouth. Sometimes something really makes me feel, mostly, i dont notice it until a day later. I guess its just a defense, but it feels like emotional retardation.

Now that my time is drawing close, there are some people i'd like to spend my time with, but all of them are away or busy burried under six feet of work. Let me list them all.

Yvonne, whose house i had to sneak into avoiding her husband, i honnestly never thought i'd have to sneak into a girls house again, it was kinda fun. Made me feel 14 again rememebering the last time i had to sneak into someones house. It just struck me on her birthday i've known her for 9 years, and i havent had anybody i've kept around, and kept up with for that long. Everytime i break up you're there for me, and there to listen to how much better this new girl was, after 9 years.

Aff, whos in aus whose house i had to sneak into when i was 14, that was 7 years ago. I remember. I remember getting leg cramps hiding in your wardrobe. I remember that night on Siloso beach where i swore off Sunset Magheritas for life. I remember the days we spent at Shaw Towers, that present that you got me that i broke, and you were so pissed offed about. That thing about LZY, who if you're wondering the last i heard hes alive and in NS. And that list of things you wrote in pencil with what you hated about him. I remember you were such a young haughty thing, which attracted you to me in the first place.

Priya, whos burried in work, impossible to find and like some friends i know say will call me back but never do. I miss the nights sitting down under the block, talking, joking, laughing. I remember she was so happy for me when i got back from Melb. I remember keeping her company on those nights when she couldn't sleep waiting for Jonny to call. Its a shame what Mel did to him. The irony in that statement is killing me, not to self, never let Sammy date anyone whos name can be shortened to Mel. I remember crying into her arms, rushing down to fetch her home from puking one Chinese New Years night. Caring for her when she needed, and letting her take care of me when i needed it.

John, whos far far away, in his cell. The Bishan Park drinking accident that we'll never ever forget. I never knew what a full glass of hard liquor would do to me until that night. That incident is etched forever in my mind. I miss sitting down and talking about stupid things with you, talking about intelligent things when i could follow the conversation, drinking like there was no tomorrow, and that carpe diem feeling i get with you, that i can be young and dumb again.

Sammy, who i still constantly see, busy with two jobs and a new girl. Though you've got other responsibilities, you always make time for me, unless you're having steamboat with *erm* girlfriend. The best was getting kicked out of home economics class, and seeing you walk out after me, because the class was boring anyway. Then we drank port in the staircase, and in the canteen and the class, and witnessed a very drunk shan, asking for his change dispite being unable to stay awake. The drinking sessions we had in the playground where we met and decided that this was the start of a wonderful friendship. Satpal telling us Boon Qiu Lo will cure our asthma, whether we had asthma or not, and finding you and Alan in church camp the next morning was priceless.

Denise, who i should probably call, just to know how things are going. Social callsare important to upkeep.

Tab i've given up waiting for a place in the life, 8 years is long enough to call it quite. I've found even my patience has limits.

But i've spent the whole day thinking of someone whos name is something sweet. Of all the memories, i've had where i think smile, and have the smile reach my eyes so easily, the ones with you are not there. Its almost sad, i've missed you, we've grown apart like we said we never would. And just typing that sentence cuts because i dont want to admit its true. Promise me we'll fix this some day, when things arent so hard, beacuse i want those memories with you back. And i want to smile to them.

I feel like that John Denver song, Leaving on A Jet Plane. Not every post is a winner, this one is just there for me to remember what i want to do, what i need to do. Sometimes, i'm still soft inside, sometimes, i want to still make everything right. My spree is almost at its end, and i think its been a good year. If your names on the list, give me a ring, we'll talk, remember good times, and i hope you'll keep me flying straight through my future.

3 A.M.

She says its cold outside and she hands me my raincoat
Shes always worried about things like that
She says its all gonna end and it might as well be my fault
And she only sleeps when its raining
And she screams and her voice is straining

She says baby
Its 3am I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well I cant help but be scared of it all sometimes
Says the rains gonna wash away I believe it

Shes got a little bit of something, God its better than nothing
And in her color portrait world she believes that shes got it all
She swears the moon dont hang quite as high as it used to
And she only sleep when its raining
And she screams and her is straining

She believes that life is made up of all that youre used to
And the clock on the wall has been stuck at three for days, and days
She thinks that happiness is a mat that sits on her doorway
But outside its stopped raining

Saturday Train

Is it still on your mind?
Of course, it won’t let go
You could be doing the right thing
Maybe he doesn’t want to know

But, you have done wrong
And you want to make right
You can easily see
There will be a fight

So, you take him on the Saturday train
Just as it is starting to rain
And you tell it all
You feel so small
Then you’re done

What you’re thinking about
Is all he needs to know
You’ve made up your reasons
You hope maybe it doesn’t show

But, you have done wrong
And you want to make right
There are things on your mind
That can’t be undone

So, you take him on the Saturday train
Just as it is starting to rain
And you tell it all
You feel so small
Then you’re done

You can always change your heart, girl
You can never change your past
Will it stay inside your heart, girl?
Will it ever let you go?
Will it ever let you go?

Introverted, Lonely, and Over-Sensitive

Of all the people in the world, the ones i understand the best now are those who have lost. "If i fall into the drink i will say your name before I sink". Thoe who have experiened loss, and longing, who want though they know it will murder them as surely as an ice pick through the heart. Those who turn the music up and lose ourselves in the sound. Let it wash over us, the notes vibrating in the air with the same frequency as our broken hearts, sometimes causing the fragmented pieces to come together, sometimes falling apart.

Those of us who have no voice anymore, who speak in endless cliches. "Immortalised with every angiuish we yield". Those of us who sit alone at home, cigerette in the mouth, finding solace in writing to themselves, talking to themselves, finding dialogue and discourse in books. So beaten and worn, looking for the same hope we've told ourselves time and time again to give up on.

I understand the bitter people, who hide themselves from every eye, who would never let themselves be happy. "Because when he hurts you, you feel alive". They hide themselves in their bitterness, their anger and anguish. Too tired to wrath against the world, to fight to want to achieve, yet they try because its all they know. Those people betrayed by their passions, the things they loved, that they held closest to their heart.

I understand the lonely people, who bury themselves in work, and refuse to know anyone. "I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now". Thoe who work a job they care little for, for money they dont need. They work to past the time, so during the day they dont have to think, and when they get home they're tired enough to sleep.

I understand the tired people, those who sleep does not come easily to, who toss and turn in bed, fitful from endless nightmares, broken by the endless carnage suicide and murders the nights hold. "Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears". Those who choose not to take their sleeping pills, they let the insanity in their mind take over their nights, and live their days weary from endless nights.

I understand the depressed people, the mad people, the cruel people, the people who say one thing and mean another, the people who don't have anything left to say anymore, the people who the world has lost all that sense of wonder and adventure it once held. I understand what it means to be dead, to fall between the cracks in the world. I understand that there is more than one way to be dead, i understand what it means to suffer before you die. My mind always plays tricks, and i think i understand one thing at one point and time, then the moment passes and i dont understand anymore. I know i'll understand when its important again.

What do you see when you look into my eyes? Do you see my hopes and dreams, my desires, my aspirations. Do you see my endless nights of torment, do you see the tears never far behind, do you see the vacant look that does not even acknowledge your presence? When you look into my eyes, do you see my soul? Can you draw me deeper into your gaze, can you reach for my heart and squeeze in your palm, feel the warm blood on your fingers, feel it beat, for you. Make me love you, tear my heart out, take a bite, feel the thick juices flow from your cheeks to your neck staining your shirt. Go ahead, i dont need a heart anymore. I am one of those people, already dead, living with the ghost of memory, doing things because i vaguely remember doing them. I cant remember how it was all supposed to feel, and i feel indifferent to how its all supposed to be.

Now i wait to enlist into my slavery, this time last year i was waiting to be with you."Is it wicked when you smile. Even though you feel like crying". I only understand the poeple who are dead inside. My memories are tainted with sadness because joy and heppiness doesn't mean as much to me as it did before. I've grown bitter, colder, harder, more uncaring, I've learnt to hate whole heartedly, i dont have as good a grasp on my temper as i used to, i'm unsure what happenens every day, and months go by like a blur. I've stopped investing enough care to create new memories, and i am content because so little affects me for more than a day now. This is normal, and i am normal, i'm no longer afraid to get hurt, because i dont think its possible for me to care beyond a certian amount. I am therefore content.

I hope you enjoyed my hundredth post. Stop telling me to learn to live because if you've lived enough you'd have atleast gone through this once. Stop telling me to be happy, because if you've ever been happy, you must know the sadness that follows. Stop telling me that i'm wrong, because if you were smart enough you wouldn't know what right is. Stop telling me that you know understand and care, because i honnestly dont expect very much, we live in a world where we never own anything, and the things you think belong to you actually own you, and i'm not just talking about inanimate things, physical things or idealogical things. If you do know understand or care, then you do, and you have to believe that you do, because i'll never know, and i'm too tired to find out. I refuse to fight for anything, because i dont see anything around worth fighting for. The world has gone wrong, mad and stupid, and everybodys too busy chasing imaginatons and intangiable things to realise that. Dont be stupid, dont choose life, dont choose anything, because choice is a trick question, whenever you choose, you choose between nothing and nothing. Whenever you cant choose in this consumeristic world they give you freebies to entice you into a choice.

And the nicest thing i can say to anyone is Good luck with your life, i hope you stay alive long enough before you die.

I'm jeremy, and this is my heart

I wanted to call this post what the snowman learnt from love. Sort of like an alternate beginning to an alternate end. That line is the wonderful beginning to the album. It starts with "Hi i'm evan and this is my heart", so simple yet so expressive. The words "This is my heart" sends shivers down my spine everytime i hear it. Mostly when you choose to be with someone these are the silent words that play in the still of your mind.

"i am evan and this is my heart, i am amy and this is my heart, i am chris this is my heart, i am touque
this is my heart."

This is my heart, take it, break it, make it, love it, hate it, becareful with it, be reckless with it, let it engulf you, engulf it with you, make it soar and fly, chain it to you, this is my heart, it was once mine, now its yours, I'll break it for you, because i think you're worth it.

how the heart bends, and summer she sends a sky that refuses to die
with weeds of the sea that wrap round our knees and a sun too hot to go down

Somehow you bend it more and more, harder and harder, the heart is a muscle, its made for abuse. Its resiliant, it keeps going, it keeps caring, more and more, even when its past the time to stop. The heart is a huge paradox, it needs to hurt to be happy, to suffer to be pleasured, to belong, to be free.

you come around, you come around, you come around, you come around, you come around, you come around,
you come around

The first thing you come around to is accepting your happiness. You've been used to running away from everythign that makes you feel happy, because you're not one of those people happy things happen to. At some moment you stop and convince yourself this is actually happening. You finally stop running from the things that keep you too broken to hope for something better. And you start hoping for something better.

how the heart bends, and summer she sends a sky that refuses to die
with weeds of the sea that wrap round our knees, and a sun too hot to go down

Then you bend to your lover, allowing yourself to be loved completely, and everything is in bloom, the skies are endless, and your heart knows no boundries. The endlessness of possibilities washes over you, and the day is bright and you never even consider that its going to end. Ignorance, bliss, everything, comepletely eternal.

you come around, you come around, you come around, you come around, you come around, you come around,
you come around

And then you come around to reality. That nothing is forever, nothing is really perfect, nothing really means anything. That reality you live in, that special world safe from everything, everything harsh, and cruel that can be thrown at you. And you know that made up world is not real. And your heart sinks, aches, bleeds from the inside. You come around to the real world, with real people who aren't your friends, who dont love you. When the sweetest of lovers hurts you so profoundly, you start to realise, anyone can.

You rush through denial, undeniable rage, rightous pride, a brilliant shade of the purest envy, excessive expendiature showing yourself you're worth something, one-night stands with soft warm hands, a malicious want to deny others what you were not allowed to have, and the constant desire to stay within the eye if destruction, and keep yourself shielded in that firm belief, if its happening to anyone, i wont be first. Basically indulging in the seven deadly sins.

you come around, you come around, you come around, you come around, you come around, you come around,
you come around

I'm not sure about you but i came around again, i guess because it was important. Because i dislike the random destruction in my heart. I've always prefered cold blooded calculated destruction where i'm always aware what the consequences are. I refuse to be unaware of they whys in my life. And i want to know always exactly why i make my choices, so i may never do anything i'd regret.

If you'd regret it, dont do it, if you do it dont regret it. If you do it and regret it, choose between the lesser of two evils, or atleast where you'll be less sad (inaccurately defined as happier). Because at the end of the day, theres only you.

P.S.

Life is like the sweetest pill. Life is truly sweet. And we're all children, we all want sweeter and sweeter, more and more. I remember when i was young, once upon a fairy tale, i ate alot of belimbing (yes i know belimbing is not classicly defined as sweet). I wonder if its the same with saccharine, and you cant taste anything but that bitter after taste for days on end. At least the bitterness is fading. I've dared to take a chance, only to be reminded to take a longer break. I'll be fine because i'll always be fine. I feel relatively nothing because i choose not to break my heart this time, not to try, not to be disappointed by people who dont know what they want, and dont know how their actions affect others on a very simple level. I guess its not knowing, but caring enough to want to understand, realising that there is something to be understood.

Lately i've become better at doing things that i have to do, even if it hurts. I just spin on the ball of my heel and start singing, I love the sound of you walking away, imagine the click of shoes on a wooden floor, and keep the steps to the beat.

When i gave you a chance its undeniable, when i love you its undeniable, atleast i think i get my point accross well. Both of them aren't the same thing. Well who really knows, the most i know is that i tried in my own way.

Post 98

Because 99's cliche and i havent reached an even hundred, new monitor, 865 spyware threats removed, i got to finally see yvonne after 2 bloody years of calling and was one of the first to see her house nicely done. I should be happy, content even, i mean these are the usual things that make me smile. Yet at the back of my mind i still feel somethings missing.

Listening to Belle and Sebastian, its a BS kind of mood for tonight i just love their album titles, things like "I'm waking up to us" and "This is just a modern rock song". Almost like a declaration, "I dont care what you think, but tomorrow i'm waking up to us." Sounds like something you'd say to yourself. All that denial and self loathing, rolled up in one nice fuzzy suicidal ball, bouncing of the warm walls of life, with the joy a fat kid in school does.

There are seconds you say, "I'm waking up to us darling", and you try to believe it even if its so unbelieveable. That tomorrow will be fine, that the other half of your normally cold bed will be a warm somebody. Against your naked unprotected back, you'll feel not just somebody's bosom, but a live beating heart. And you can go back to sleep, because between each beat is the promise, "I got you darling". That nightmare that woke you up doesn't mater anymore, because it dont come back no more. Some part of your subconscious says, theres no point murdering yourself in your sleep now, you're content, you're whole, and you've found that missing part of you you've spent your whole life searching for.

Generalising again!

well theres something else to be said. Women are mad, they are stupid and should never ever be allowed to think. They have alot of warped ideas and notions of how the world is and how love is supposed to work.

Stupidly they want a guy who loves them more, then they want a guy who they dont have to take care of, then they want a guy who has everything, then they want a guy who wont cheat on them and treat them well. And to take the fucking god dammed cake, they want a guy who doesn't lie to them.

Fucking unrealistic can! Can? Cannot? Can! Fucking CAN it.

If it isn't one huge bloody paradox, to you, bloody e-mail me at seython@gmail.com and i'll write you a lengthy reply on why i think women are dumb. If you're a woman and not like this of course dont bother (self rightous bitch!)

The point is

Ite illusive simley is indeed the greatest tool in modern communication. The ability to smile on cue i find is almost as difficult to cry on cue. However, with modern invertions of online smileys, you can have an instant reach your eyes smile in with just the help of the shift key. The ability to shift your mood from normal indifference to something like I give a damm comes so easily, pity salesmen didn't have this at their disposal sooner.

Watching Armageddon again, i'd have to say it lacked the certian charm when i first watched it, God i hate american films, utterly predicitable, completely lacking in substance, and extravagantly loaded with fireworks. Which actually may be why Singaporeans like them, due to our being fireworks deprived. Fridays at the movies is like national day come early.

I like art house, the less i understand the better. Which does not mean i like films i cant relate to, like *Cough* David Lynch. I love films that i can completely relate to, but show me a different side of my understanding. Something i've never seen before, something that exlaims "Ooooo Shiny!" Something that stirrs my heart strings, i dont even care if its not real, i think i've never been so beyond caring before. I've never loved myself so much before, which the old me would have said is entirely a bad thing.

I watched Lackawanna Blues, and the movie tore me apart, I didnt understand very much, i've become alienated to the many concepts like community, and caring for others. Well not completely alienated, but its just different form when i was a kid. The times they are a changing, and the wheel is always in spin, and so many things dont matter anymore like what they used to. I've grown older somewhat, and i'm going to grow older some more.

The battle rages within me, and i still have yet to come to a any real resolution. The way i see it is i'll probably be fighting myself until i forget what i'm fighting for. And i still know damm well what i'm fighting for, a reason to care and put myself out there to endure countless and endless disapointments. To give and care and never stop no matter how hard, until i have nothing left. All i need is 1 good reason, eventually i might forget how to care, how to love someone more than i love myeslf, i'll grow old enough to take care of myself and only myself, and i'll never look back, i'll be afriad of dying, i'll be afraid to lose and to take chances, i'll be afraid to smile and be proud of myself, i'll be afraid.

Theres that part of lackawanna blues where the Junior asks Nanny, if she's afraid to die. And the most comforting words i've ever heard came from her mouth, that death is nothing to be afraid of, that death is a friend, and when shes really tired of this life, and she cant go on anymore, death will say, yes, i understand, you can stop now.

I want to live an inspired life, full of passion, where i know what i'm doing, why i'm doing it, and i'll never stop feeling this way. Sometimes, especially now, i'm half afraid that i'll never pick myself up enough to be able to try again. And this is only the beginning, I cant afford to quit now. In the still of my heart, i know i still love atleast one thing enough, i'm still young, i'm still proud, i'm still mad, somehow it strikes me as wrong to ask god to help me find this one, i figure i'll either figure it out or wander this vast tundera until something crops up. Or i can sit and wait because i'm sure that which i am looking for is looking for me as well.

On the brighter side of things, i have a timetable now before things are suppoused to start working out. And apparently i have a stronger heart than most, so i'm confident it can take this shit i'm putting it through, what does not kill you makes you stronger.

God is real because Life is shit

“God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of His own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of the players, (ie everybody), to being involved in an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.”
-Good Omens

Back to the quote, I have really fallen for Gaiman and Prachett. The only thing I regret from my Melbourne trip was not looking Terry Prachett up. If life is indeed a game of poker, i'm in deep shit, because i never know when to quit, when i'm up i'm very very up, and when i'm down, i always lose my crown.

Life requires a certain amout of balance, and i'm so bloody repetitive, i should be listening to repetitive music. I really Love stars, the band took my heart away, and they have a diverse array of instruments at their arsenal, which they oh so effortlessly pummel your heart strings with. Maybe i'm just bias, I love trumpet and the violin.

Its not just the game people cant take, its not the infinite stakes, the complete lack of an instruction manual, which for normal games can be quite a chore, let alone cosmic ones. Its actually the smiling dealer, sometimes you wonder if hes smiling at your effort for putting in so much concenteration in a game all about nothing (like an episode of Jerry Sienfeld).

Since we are created in the image of God, there are two parts to our human nature people are generally uncomfortable with, one being our sadomachoistic nature, I mean we're talking about the god that let men build the Tower of Babel almost to completion, and then mow it down like a lego house.

In a Boston Legal episode, I came accross the term Schadenfreude, which translates to "pleasure taken from someone else's misfortune", however, its not just a german thing, though we might like to blame them for all unsavoury things like sour crout. Schadenfreude is a feeling we have all experienced and understand dispite our culture.

However it is something that is built into us, from when we were children, watching our friends fall off roller skates, getting shot by paper bullets, and after the child like enjoyment of what has been described as the purest of joys, we shy from our cruel nature, because its something thats just not good to show off. However it shows up in other ways, that silent snicker at the back of our hearts, watching, and waiting for our revenge to be enacted upon the world.

Almost like that scene from City of God, with the children shooting somebody dead. But what does God have to be envious about to watch the proud fall, well i guess God is proud, and he really does not like comptition, maybe thats why we give thanks to god for all we've got.

Its pathetic as human beings to love the thrill of watching a fall, and then beat ourselves up for it because of ingrained cultural teachings. Just because its not nice. Our jealousy, pride and envy, make up so much of our humanity, that to truly transcend that takes an endless amount of self control.

Schadenfreude and our litost, are opposite ends of the same spectrum, thats why sometimes i dont understand why BDSM is divided to make one end of the relationship seem like the opposite of the other. In a sense, it appears to me every opposite is essientially the same thing, just a difference in execution. and neither can exist without one.

I'm a sucker for punishment and a great lover of divine comedy, keep the punches coming, and make sure i'm soft and bloody by the end of this, lessons in life are learnt like the Royal Selangor Pewter smelting school.