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Final rant.

There are times in life where we start to compare (mostly subtly). We start comparing our happiness with someone else’s, and that opens the door for all our insecurities to flood in. When it all boils down to it, we were all made different, but as humans we assimilate with everyone else to feel wanted and normal. We want what we can’t have, and when we realize we can’t attain what we want, we start to get affected by all our shortcomings. When we invest our time questioning and doubting our ability to perform, and our luck, what we’re really doing is limiting ourselves. Beyond that, we are subconsciously dismissing our achievements and what we’re actually good at. Sadly, when this goes on for a long period of time, we start to feel complacent. Complacency and moving forward are two things that don’t ever go hand in hand. To move forward we need to change the things that hold us back. Basically we call for change, be it good, bad, hard, easy, for the sake of betterment- we need change. We change to adapt and to improve, and at times when change seems hard and daunting to commit or accept, we need to know that there are things in life that we have absolutely no control over, but that doesn’t mean we should stop, it means that we need to work around it. Being alive comes with its own fair share of sorrow and happiness. We need to accept joy when it’s there, and when things aren’t looking as bright, we need to ride the pain and come out of it feeling better about ourselves.

Somber

A day filtered by a somber dream,

a somber dream of poignant cries and withering flowers.

I am haunted by images from last night. 

 

Instructed by foreign urges,

tantalized by unfamiliar scents,

and rendered stoic by seldom thoughts.

I stand provoked.

 

Provoked to validate the unfamiliar against my natural will,

provoked to welcome foreign feelings as my own.

 

“A drop of tear- cold heavy and teal,

unwillingly shed from a sorrow ridden eye,

trickling down while the air is still,

while I just keep feeling a sense of goodbye.

Little white lies

I am so tired of answering every “how are you” with little white lies.

 

So, to answer your question again:

 

I don’t know how I actually am…

When I’m busy I feel fine

And on some days, I feel…. lonely, but not I want to kill myself, lonely

Or ‘along the stream not across the river, lonely

Just… why haven’t I found you yet, lonely

I have so much to offer you, lonely

I want to share the things that make me smile- with you, lonely

I want to giggle when I’m down because I thought of your smile, lonely

I want to sniff you and tell you how good you smell, lonely

I want the world to know you’re mine, lonely

Pull you by the arm and bear-hug you, lonely

Make you laugh just to hear you chuckle, lonely

Make you angry so I could tickle you, lonely

Make up with you and give you Eskimo kisses, lonely

Give you butterfly kisses before I say goodbye, lonely

Things will be okay, lonely

I want to be faithfully yours, lonely

Sincerely yours, lonely…

Have virtual cold-wars lost its lustre?

One fine morning as a couple of friends and I were religiously studying at KPD E’s student lounge (laughs in silence), it ultimately dawned upon us that couples nowadays are much more inclined to having verbal confrontations as opposed to the old-fashioned option of having-a-go-at-it on an instant messaging client (MSN, YM, AIM and etc). This topic came about as we were discussing the prospects of a sudden rise in PDD at this day and age. (PDD- Public displays of disaffection- a physical demonstration of disaffection upon a partner, while in the view of others, i.e. kicking, screaming and spitting). See, back in the days, our fighting rings used to be web messengers; not sidewalks or staircases. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that we should live our lives like Carmelite monks (spiritual hermits who practice a strict separation from the world by living in closure), all I’m saying is that- petty love spats should remain in the chat room and never out in the open. Unless you actually prefer having spectators judge the dysfunctional ties between you and your partner, Keep-It-Discreet. What’s the use of washing your dirty linen in public anyways?

There’s just something about being veiled by a screen and communicating from a distance that aids confronting a person, like how you can mask your actual emotion by typing out how you feel, whilst not actually feeling that emotion at the time. For instance, post having an argument with a lover, your partner follows up with a “Hey *inserts label of affection here* how are you”, a blatant “I’m fine.” would most definitely convey the message that you’re not really feeling peachy about the situation. The best part remains that whilst typing out your gnarly responses, you don’t ‘actually’ have to be angry or pissed. Think about it, you could be eating an Oreo cookie whilst typing out “AM VERY DISSAPOINTED WITH YOU. LEAVE. ME. ALONE” whereas at the opposite end of the spectrum, your partner could be typing out a seemingly desperate “DON’T DO THIS TO ME! I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT YOU” whilst clearing his bowels on his throne simultaneously. PLUS!!!! JUST BY TYPING EVERYTHING IN CAPS LOCK AND OVERINDULGING WITH UNNECESSARY EXCLAMATION MARKS LIKE SUCH!!!!!!!, it would immediately be transparent that you’re screaming at the him / her. I call it the “Save energy & type harder” philosophy. (It beats screaming at the top of your lungs at any given day if you ask me.)

Another definite pro would be the classic option of appearing ‘offline’ midway through the conversation, which is evidently much more effective than walking away from your partner during a live confrontation. By being evanescent with your online status, it confuses whoever you’re having a tiff with, like a brain eating parasite. To further mess with your enemy’s/partner’s mind, you could use the personal display message option to your advantage by fluctuating through statements like “Thanks for ruining everything”, “How could you be so heartless”, “Oh you cheating dirt bag”, “I guess it’s time to move on” and my personal favourite “I’d slap your face but that would be animal abuse”. I once had a friend who posted a link on her display message that was ‘clearly’ directed to her deranged boyfriend, which read “10 ways to treat a woman right” (talk about being straight forward). See, by fiddling with your display messages, it gives you the absolute power to overdramatize a situation in accordance to how hurt or angry you are.  If you’re more of an extremist, you would temporarily click the ‘block’ button to shake things up or worst ‘delete’ them from your contact list (Oh the good old days).

So remember kids- if you’ve got a bone to pick or a squabble to throw with a partner or friend, don’t hesitate to use a web messenger to your advantage. It is proven beyond doubt to be effective; it lasts longer and definitely triumphs over a redundant verbal confrontation.

Written for: The American Flyer- Summer 2011 Edition

Poem: Falling into perfect solitude

When the fall of darkness governs the night, a certain
silence prevails through the almost inaudible sounds made by the
creatures that lurk. A silent cry can be heard from afar by a beast
we wish not know of. Between the branches and little twigs that are
spread out like an uneven puzzle, the silvery mist of the moonlight
seeps through. A morbid glow outlines the dark forest. Like a
corpse, the horrid past has been buried in the ground, to rot and
disintegrate into the earth. Unfortunately, though its physical
attributes may be rid, its memory is everlasting. Therefore we
cope, we cope by allowing solitude to heal. In perfect solitude, we
climb the steps of sanity to reach an understanding that will leave
us with a sound mind. Peace, peace is what we yearn for yet too
much loneliness drives us off the wall. We are indecisive creatures
that can complicate even the littlest of things, and be ignorant
towards the biggest of problems. In perfect solitude we rearrange
the skeletons in our closet following a pattern that only we
understand; some are thrown out in the hopes of being forgotten,
whilst some are temporarily put away. Secrets, secrets are cold and
stubborn, even if wished with the most proper of all farewells;
they exist to prevail through the years even long after our final
breath on earth. An open eye sets reality apart from a dream thus
we have the power to get lost, lost in our own manmade reverie,
where a smile on your face isn’t a reflex but something
pre-existing, inclined by everlasting bliss. We are lonely beings,
indecisive and enigmatic yet when the night comes and the mood is
right- in perfect solitude we shall fall into and unearth the food
to our sanity to keep us abreast with reality. Alas, leaving us
endowed to last another treacherous day.

Time is a ruthless healer

There’s no guidebook to lead us or help us through life. We won’t ever know how to handle grief, betrayal, heartache, sorrow, misery and so on and it’s not something we were born knowing how to do. Nevertheless we will naturally go through it and overcome it. We might not seem strong or stable at harsh times, but we are in fact- human and we were just built that way. Give-in to time; respect the situation you’re in, and sooner or later you’ll cope by conforming for there’s nothing that time can’t heal. It goes without saying that whilst in the process of healing, we will face a plethora of obstacles that might dislodge our hopes and reinstate our fears, thus leaving us feeling hesitant to move on, but we’ve just got to do what it takes to brave through it. Build yourself up and don’t let anything break you down. Don’t blame your situation on destiny or fate for you control your own life’s path. You make the tweaks- you deal with the consequences.

Just a touch

Was rummaging through my old files and I found an old story that I wrote way back when. Here’s a short snippet;

“As he stood enface the altar, before God, a priest and a sea of hopeful eyes, Mark felt sick- sick to his stomach. What seemed like a good idea a few months back, unravelled a sea of doubt as the priest was muttering his matrimonial conduct. He tried his level best to digest the thought of commitment, but as he delved deeper, nothing but negative notions surfaced itself. At this point, he felt as if adapting to commitment was equivalent to throwing a few pebbles into a blender and trying to process it; predestined chaos. The only thing masking his cognitive meltdown was a forged smile. The point of no return was rapidly approaching, and his feelings were moulted to the ground. “I might as well” transpired as the only adequate consolation- so he thought. A holy man, clothed in a white robe accented with gold and symbolic embroidery never seemed so bloodcurdling. He kept thinking that should he look back on this ‘special’ day, he would prefer to have a flow of good thoughts that surrounded it, a pure flow untainted by bad moves or hiccups. Something felt so wrong about this day and what he was getting himself into, yet acting on this feeling would be the most selfish thing he had ever thought of doing. Too many unresolved questions kept ping ponging in his head. An unyielding urge to bellow STOP came about at this point. Mark desperately needed a fag to help him curb his feelings. He grew stoic and emotionally numb. Without warning, the woman standing next to him, hidden behind a thin veil whose linkage fluctuated from ‘girl of his dreams’ to ‘stranger’ to ‘no particular standing’ within this short period, held the tip of his pinkie. That trivial grip she had on him diminished every single query he had in less than a second, and diverted all his negative thoughts to good ones. All it took was a downright and simple touch from his beloved, to solidify his deluded love for her”

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