The Cure

Zeke (Aug 25, 2003): Dysthymia. The word itself communicates nothing. (OK, "dys", like "dysfunctional", but the rest of it? "oh, does it means there's something wrong with your thymus gland?") It means being alive, but not living. It means mere existence. It's a dull psychic ache that never goes away; never lets up. There is no pleasure -- except for sleep, because then the pain goes away.

The books say it is not as bad a "major depression", where you wind up in the hospital or try to commit suicide. Perhaps so. But if this is a "minor" depression...anything worse is hard to contemplate. There is nothing interesting. Friends, work, music, play, sex, God...these are things that others experience. (And even enjoy, or so you're told.) Or if you experience them, it is as though you are doing it through a thick fog, dulling the sensation to the point of meaninglessness.

Once upon a time, you weren't like this. You laughed, smiled, got excited, *felt*. Now there are no feelings except for a profound, unfathomable sadness. Your main "emotion" is apathy. Things that used to be pleasures are now not even worth trying. You probably wouldn't get any pleasure out of it. You barely remember what pleasure was like. You may have rare flashes of "your old self", if you're fortunate. You get that rare glimpse: "oh, this is how other people feel...this is what I used to feel like", but then it is gone. Gone like a dream, so that the clear memory fades, and you are left only with an aging black-and-white photo in your memory.

Yet you keep on. You have to. Others depend on you. There are bills to pay, children to raise, laundry to do, a lawn to mow. You put off what you can, doing only what is absolutely necessary. Because just existing takes such effort, and you are so bone-weary all the time.

Hope? Others say that it may end -- there are treatments, etc. You have tried them. For years. Hope becomes a cruel joke; the carrot at the end of a stick, hung out in front of the donkey's nose, to get him to move. So you move. You plod along. You put one foot in front of another. Maybe it will get better someday...

At Lonim

Click, a shutter speeds, to catch a fallen star

Click, and flutter, broken memory jars

Ha.

I really need to do something to pick me up. Last night was great. But its over and i feel really sick. But i was laughing. And i did not threaten to kill myself once. Though i sure as fuckin hell felt like throwing my deadweight body off a building. Atleast i can laugh now when i feel like i'm dying up inside. God is good, life is beautiful, this sure as hell isn't over.

Round 2, back in the ring! *ding ding ding*

Jeopardy

This would be the residual emotions i'm left with after the last post. A few things i have to say but no time to say them. Second on my mind is John's leaving and i've barely met up with him. Next is Aff hasn't blogged in a mth poor busy girl. Everybodys gone far far away, and apparently so have i. Far away from the spaces in between, the life that i thought i had, the reality i thought would last forever. Oddly i'll never get over some people telling me the way i feel is bullshit. What an odd time in my life for someone elses opinion of me to actually bug me. By odd, i guess its because theres not many people in my life, and the people in my life dont really have an opinion. The other thing that bugs me is why do some people bother to read this when it relly doesn't mater to them. You'd read if you care, for a candid laugh i feel its just too much trouble to go through reading the long posts i've written. Maybe in some alternate reality you do care, so you cant stop reading the writing of me at what i feel to be the lowesst point of my life. Sammy said something about being in a rut a few months back, i guess thats what it is, feelng so down and almost unable to find the will power to wake up. Like having 3 hours sleep after not sleeping for 3 days, and trying to force yourself to wake up on a cold cold morning. Its always easier to get up and go when you're feeling nicely warm and fuzzy inside. At this point i realise i havent put in a paragraph, the words zOMG learn to paragraph run through my mind and i do want to but i force myself not to. Simply because this is not supposed to be easy to read, because its not easy to write. I care about so little i need to do something about it. I have faith in a few people, a kind of nervous trust, like a surgeon with shaky hands. Hands are for building things with, building. And it does not do, nor does it become me to have shaky hands, a kind of semi-commitment in the things that i do. But i've learnt to fear, and like some kind of insidious illness it tears me up inside. Sometimes i dont feel its effects, sometimes i'm crippled. Things like commitment, friendship, trust and a general love for the people around me used to come so easily. Now its just trying. Thats the other thing that needs to be fixed. This fear, that the next person that i let into my life, that i learn to love and accept, is going to betray me, and all this work that i've done to get my head back in order. I used to answer that question so well. Do you Trust me? I'd say yes, close my eyes and jump off a building. I'd probably even have enjoyed the freefall, i always wanted to fly, now i dont know if i can trust anything with my body to the trechery of freedom. I probably wasn't wise with my restraints, everything blew up, and my world went from brightly neon to monochrome and then over exposed. Sometimes i think i should keep the memories, sometimes they just hurt too much. Old photographs, old messages with meaningless words like i love you, please trust me, dont hurt me, i want to be with you. They tear through my defences, and turn things upside down. Stop thinking about it, dont let it get to you, let it go. And i wonder, how can i let these things go when they're the only part of me i feel that is alive. How can i let it go when they're the only part of me that when i look at it, i feel something. Its not that complicated. It really isn't i just have to find something new, something good enough, without the lingering thought of betrayal on a whim, something that inspires me, so i can let this go, so i can be somebody else, so i can just stop the world from spinning around. Sometimes i feel so fucked in the head. my feelings bounce off the walls, the echoes of old ones meld with the new ones, and after awhile i am completely unaware of what is real and what isn't. Its the lingering anger, biterness and regret that really bites down hard on me. Its been a year, and i still havent forgiven. And this eats up on me on the inside, i'm starting to wonder if i have a soul. Sometimes i feel its dying, and i can become just another body doing, not being. To be or not to be? that is the question. Sometimes i dont know, and when i dont the world goes horribly wrong. Odd conversations go on in my head, the people i have them with sometimes come to mind but usually fade away. Somebody said this and smebody said that, i cant remember the who or the when, just the what. Maybe in an attempt to let go of things, my brain just lets go of random things in an attempt of cheating me. I know what i want, i know what i need, i know what i choose, i know. Its just that the reality and the other thing are completely opposite. I want something i cannot have. I probably am just stuck in a rut, the paradox of emotional entanglement weighing down on my soul. If my heart weighs more than a feather, just feed it to the dogs. Its worth so little to me because its weighing me down now, but its the only thing keeping me alive. For $2000, What is a Rut.

Expectations

Life is short, and shitty, and a real pain. Having, not having, wanting and needing. Of the things that define us, that make us human. The one thing that really means the most, that really shows, that really shines. Its the things that inspire us, to do better, to achive greater. We all want to be great, we want to believe that in this short shitty meaningless life, we will eventually amount to something. Something to show for all the strife, all the pain, all the heartache, that we inflict on ourselves and the othr that we so dearly love. Something to show for all the What Ifs, the could have beens, and the regret that we will never admit that we have. Something to show to ourselves, that it worked out for the better, and we an stop dwelling on the could haves. So we will never have to deal with the agony of going back, the ordeal of attempting the impossible.

I want something to believe in again. Because i've tried so hard, because i'd like to be inspired. I'd like to be whole, defined, and human. I'd like to beieve in something, have faith in something. Like I used to have faith in all of you. I hope to be able to hope for the better, instead of expect the worst. I'll be able to fight and suffer for what i believed in once again. Maybe thats love, the willingnes to undetake suffering for what we believe in. Because it completes us so well, we never want to let it go. And sometimes, we end up loving ghosts, phantoms of the past, who dont exist anymore. I guess thats the delusional i was dubbed with. But I needed to believe in something. It used to be you.

You Complete Me

I just saw Jerry Maguire, for the first time in ages. I really love that movie even more so now. I've been craving chocolate and ice-cream for the first time in my life. I want to write, and say what i really felt about that movie, and how much of it has shamefull become so cliched when it all meant so much the first time we saw it. Its a crying shame.

I've got to sleep, i spend saturdays out with the guys, sundays sleeping one day i'll get down to writeing something deccent. Until then, i'll keep the little earthquakes to myself, pretend the hurricane caused by the flapping of a butterflies wings doesn't exist, and sleep.

I once thought i could do the impossible, because i only knew what my parents told me. Now i'm growing up, i'm getting smarter, learning more, and slowly coming to terms that the world is bigger than i could imagine, and the clarity, was just not seeing the bigger picture, and seperating the shades of grey.

Sway

Stupid is as stupid does. When i ask why silence echos. Melodramatic? I think yes. What gives? Something that gave. Sometimes now i like the silence. Silence in a loud place. In the silence of my mind. 22 and not a day wiser. The things that bothered me last yaer still bother me now. Oh bother, i think, like Winnie with his hand in a honey jar.

Don't stray
Don't ever go away

Could have would have should have. Theres alot of those in the the world. What if there was something better something more something that gave everything and took nothing back. Something infinite, something great something, just something that i can have and never want anything more.

I should be much to smart for this
You know it gets the better
Of me sometimes
When you and I collide

Who, what, where, when, WHY?, how. If ever if only even though. Whats the point. Ugh Writing like this is good for me but no good for you. Because you cant make sense of the fragments like i can. And if you do then maybe you should. I'd like to be special like you, but i'm just a creep.

I fall into an ocean of you
Pull me out in time
Don't let me drown
Let me down

I've been drowing in pictures of you, all of you. The smiles, the times we laughed. We all meant it. The jokes that used to be funny now just sting with a bitter sense of irony. We once belonged to ourselves, now we're all just slaves. There are only two paths for survival or us. The mindless bore of the working class, the one that justifies every action by "We all got bills to pay". I promised once to never join the ranks of the living dead. Sometimes now i dont know. The brain speaks but the heart is unwilling to listen. The brain shows but the heart is unwilling to see. The brain is not acknowledged by the heart. Because once it wanted to take over the world, and now it just wants to cut losses. The heart may be stupid, but its one hell of a stubborn. Personally i like the heart more.

I say its all because of you and here I go
Losing my control
I'm practising your name
So I can say it to your face it doesn't seem right
To look you in the eye
And let all the things you mean to me
Come tumbling out my mouth indeed its time

Facets of me, everybody brings out a different one. From the cool and calm, from the knowing, from the (what in gods name have you been smoking) happy, from the calculating, from the i can read you like a book, all the way to the pissed off, angry, hurt, dejected, bitter, and eventually broken. From the spectrum of those that affect me one way, you eventually affect me the other, the more positive, comes the more negative. I guess it works for other people that way too. I guess its true when Joni said, if you care, dont let them know, dont give yourself away.

Tell you why
I say its infinately true
Say you'll stay
Don't come and go
Like you do

Its infinately true. Isn't it. Somethings you cant deny. How much sense does this make. I dont expect it to make that much, though i dont expect very much anymore. 22 years and not one year wiser, a bigger DND sign on my heart. Just when i think things are getting better reality strikes, and i'm out in the cold. Two fantastic reasons i guess, I should be singing along to muse songs and not caring about what i sing, and well lets just leave it at that.

Sway my way
Yeah I need to know
All about you
And there's no cure
And no way to be sure
Why everythings turned inside out
Instilling so much doubt
It makes me so tired
I feel so uninspired
My head is battling with my heart
My logic has been torn apart

Cut this post halfway, just got back from shopping and watching Babel. I liked the idea, behind it all. Language is really secondary to communication. The people speaking a different language, the people speaking the same language, the people speaking accross different cultures, the people using technology to communicate, the people using non verbal skills to communicate, the people using political channels to communicate. We rebuilt the tower of Babel using our technology, our globalisation, and at this height of our evolution, we can so easily be destroyed by acts of god, mere million in one chances. We can be sent back to the stone age. A simple earthquake disrupted the internet communications all over the world. I loved how the movie relooked what it means to communicate. How communication today has progressed into something to tedious, so empty. Its a relook on the world, and maybe Michael Moore was wrong, prople do not act purely out of fear as he believes, but this new unnoticed beginning of the end of communication creates a huge amount of space between us all, so much that we hardly understand the drives wants and needs of other human beings. We are overwhelmed with information, and can harldy cope with this information because we cannot sort out what is important and what is simply just entertainment. And society as a whole suffers as a result of that. Because its difficult to understand anybody else, and to be understood, and at the end of it all, human beings are not meant to be solitary, alone and not understood, because we were made and designed that way. Though if you want to say Adam was made special and without a companion at first i'd have to concede that is true. However, from the original sin onwards, both Adam and Eve shared their burdens, and that burden wasn't meant to be borne alone.

And now
It all turns sour
Come sweeten
Every afternoon
Say you'll stay
Don't come and go
Like you do
Sway my way
Yeah I need to know
All about you
Say you'll stay
Don't come and go
Like you do
Sway my way
Yeah I need to know
All about you

Sometimes i wish you didnt leave, because you made the burden of life go away. We're all weak, all needy and wanting more. We want to be loved, we want to love, we want care and attention. People say it like its a bad thing, its not. We live in a world driven by money, trade and exchange. We live on a world that advances on the idea of an economy. We dont have alot of the technology that we've created because its not economically feasiable. We need a war to test out this technology before its avaliable to the masses, think TV, Radio, the Internet. We grow older, we realise we cant achive as much as we wanted, we realise we're not invincible, we realise we gotta pay the bills, and buy a shitload of stuff that would make our lives better. We need a car, even though its so god-dammed expensive in singapore. We need private housing, we need a microwave, washing machine, we need the interent, a cell phone, a new cell phone that nobody else has. We need diamond rings, pearl necklaces, we need all manner of products made from endangered and exotic animals. We want branded bags, clothes to look cool. We need to be fashionable. We need some mass produced thing to make us look unique, we need to get things, that define our identity, we need a cool coffee table book, so when someone walks into our home they can say, hey look this guy's really smart. We need a CD or a DVD collection that shows off who we are.

I know what i need, atleast sometimes i think i do. I need somebody to stand by my dammed side, tell me she loves me no matter what, somebody i can talk to, somebody who can talk to me. Somebody who gets me, who i get, so i can just be me, and she can just be her. Somebody whos my partner in crime in turning our backs to the god dammed world and we dont need to say it coz we both know it, but if we did, it'd be something like FUCK YOU ALL, I DONT NEED YOU TO TELL ME ANYTHING, BECAUSE I'VE GOT ALL THAT I NEED HERE, AND I CANT BE ARSED IF I DIE TOMORROW AND NOBODY IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD GIVES A SHIT IF I'M COOL, OR SMART, OR GOOD ENOUGH TO BE WORTH THEIR WHILE, i'll never join your god dammed working class, and i'll never need another thing to fill up the spaces in my life. And even if the going got tough, it'd be nice to have one hell of a stubborn person by your side, who wont leave you down when you're down on your knees, because she'd be happier dying with you than living without you.

The romantic in me speaks, but i'm growing older, not many people really believe this shit and i cant all the time. Sometimes i do, when i feel really alive, its not just stick it up to the man, fuck the man, its about standing up for yourself, what you believe in. Its about the times you say in the still of your heart, and your brain agrees, I Believe in You.

Its all because of you
Its all because of you

Friendship for sale

Which is the way things are. Friends without obligations, people without bodies, pictures that don’t mean anything, speak the thousand words that mean just as much as the pictures do. It’s not about how little you can give Versus how much you have given. Its the courtesy involved to give a straight answer. At this point i will throw my hands in the air and say I’ve had it.

Its not like I forced you, its not like I bugged you, its not like I put a gun to your head, or said don’t call me anymore if you can’t do this for me. You choose, you can’t stick to your choices, and you don’t even bother answering up for it. That’s just what it is.

Since when did calling back become such a glorified thing? Is it asking too much, like Jesus to wink as me, or some kind of miraculous thing, like getting a call back from some hot shot Hollywood producer. As frustrating as it, maybe it’s not all just them. The problem partly lies with me. Maybe not all the people who I choose to let into my heart and life are my friends. I've occasionally been accused of being too naive, coming from someone who does call back, I’d have to accept its weight and truth. I probably should learn to expect less from people, less than a simple message saying sorry, I couldn't make it, less than words like I don’t feel like talking about this, less than a simple hello how are you feeling, less than somebody actually listening (though sometimes I don’t want to talk about it, and thanks for not forcing me), less than the smallest bit of care and concern.

What is this Modern love? This friendship? A mass of acquaintances, of people you barely know, whose lives barely affect you, who’s death, is just another occasion to attend. Whose effect on your life is just another picture in a list of 500. Which part of you is human as opposed to alienated? Which part of you is the best part of you as opposed to the most basic of your survival instincts? Which part of you makes you proud as opposed to verging on puffery? Which part of you wants more instead of less, which aspires and dares to hope for a better society of mutual growth, as opposed to a world where every man woman and child has to fend for themselves.

Maybe I’m idealistic, but it’s sad how the best part of us is also the worst. Where once we imagined, conceptualised, and created a better world, where we can ALL get what we need, we now have a world that sees more as better, it is not just about sufficiency that we are content with, but gross gluttonous excess. Like the guy in 7. Death from gluttony, over low nutrition food. Society is like a buffet of many flavoured candies, colourful, sweet, but sorely lacking in substance.

I could go on and on, about how you're told what to like and dislike when essentially everything offered to us is similar. But I have to say, which one of you really cares about what I say? Do you think I’m pissed off with you? If you do I’m not. If you don’t care and think you've lots of friends, you probably have lots of acquaintances and can’t tell the difference between somebody who accepts you because you have something they want, or they just give a shit because they choose to (this statement is a fine line that judges how jaded you are). If you don’t care, and you think I’m full of shit or full of myself, then aren’t you as well, for being unwilling to accept the opinions of another. It is possible that you could see this as me being frustrated with the way life works. [Instead of venting frustrations on some specific (if you know me) non-specific (if you don't) people in my life (at this point you should ask yourself which category you're in and for those people who think know me I’d say most of them don’t really either because I don’t let you, or that you're not ready to.)] And ask yourself in this fast food, fast love, fast money, fast car, fast everything world, if its really that screwed up, and should people really give more of a crap about everybody else.

I'm writing this down because it’s not that obvious to me. I am a city boy after all; relationships and people come and go. And the thought of forever I’ve realised doesn't last longer than the next sunrise. I'm not bitter, I’m not angry; I’m just trying to understand the truth of things.

I'd like to go far far away, this place is killing me. I think friendship begins when you realise that there’s so much more to a person you'll never understand, but you choose to be there, offer your support, and pick them up when they are down just because they represent the most human, compassionate, sympathetic side of you. Because you are what you hate, and for me, I’ve found something in me left to fight becoming what I’d hate the most in the world. Losing the ability to communicate with another human being.

Communication is a 2-way process, one way is through talking, the other way is through letting someone through to You. I said this today in some stroke of cleverness, you can’t read a book that doesn't read you.

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.

Lets give it up for the new year

The truth is everyone's going to hurt you. you just have to decide who's worth the pain. Someone said on msn. Which is true. Most people arent, the more you get hurt, the worse the pain is, the higher your price gets. The ones that really hurt you are the ones you choose to let in. Really in, into your life and your heart and soul. Let Love in, right?

Deep down inside, i've become commitment phobic. I'm terrified, scared shitless to let somebody new into my life. I dont think i can, i dont believe it'll work out, i dont believe some chick is worth the pain, and i absolutely refuse to go through it again. I miss, but at the same time i wont.

I refuse to turn some nice girl into this jaded thing. Maybe thats why i've been single for so long. But its alright i like my life enough the way it is, simple and free. new years resolution this year is to stop drinking for awhile, do an emotional stock take, then OTOT, carry on.

100000 Fireflies

I have a mandolin
I play it all night long
It makes me want to kill myself
I also have a dobro
Made in some mountain range
Sounds like a mountain range in love
But when I turn up the tone
On my electric guitar
I'm afraid of the dark without you close to me
I went out to the forest and caught
A hundred thousand fireflies
As they ricochet round the room
They remind me of your starry eyes
Someone else's might not have made me so sad
But this is the worst night I ever had
'cause I'm afraid of the dark without you close to me
You won't be happy with me,
But give me one more chance
You won't be happy anyway
Why do we still live here
In this repulsive town?
All our friends are in New York
Why do we keep shrieking,
when we mean soft things?
We should be whispering all the time...

Possibilities

I prefer movies.
I prefer cats.
I prefer the oaks along the Warta.
I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.
I prefer myself liking people
to myself loving mankind.
I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case.
I prefer the color green.
I prefer not to maintain
that reason is to blame for everything.
I prefer exceptions.
I prefer to leave early.
I prefer talking to doctors about something else.
I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.
I prefer the absurdity of writing poems
to the absurdity of not writing poems.
I prefer, where love's concerned, nonspecific anniversaries
that can be celebrated every day.
I prefer moralists
who promise me nothing.
I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.
I prefer the earth in civvies.
I prefer conquered to conquering countries.
I prefer having some reservations.
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimms' fairy tales to the newspapers' front pages.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.
I prefer dogs with uncropped tails.
I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark.
I prefer desk drawers.
I prefer many things that I haven't mentioned here
to many things I've also left unsaid.
I prefer zeroes on the loose
to those lined up behind a cipher.
I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.
I prefer to knock on wood.
I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.
I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility
that existence has its own reason for being.

By Wislawa Szymborska
From "Nothing Twice", 1997
Translated by S. Baranczak & C. Cavanagh