Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
We begin to die as soon as we're born.
In the dream i am floating. In the darkness, there is nothing. It is a surreal, out of body type feeling that i cannot fully describe. Like trying to surf using a wet noodle as a surfboard. I stumble around the twilight, searching for solid ground. There is a light to my left that winks at me, before going away. Of course i am intrigued. I move towards it. I cannot tell if i am flying, running, jumping, sliding, walking. All i know is that somehow i am moving in the direction that i want to.
I reach the place where the light was. I am still in darkness. I am about to turn away when suddenly the light flits back into existence. It moves to my left like Tinkerbell, and i am drawn to it as if it has it's own gravitational pull. I look back once at the endless darkness, and step forward toward the light.
A stairwell materializes infront of me, and i cannot help but fall when the near unbearable waves of emptiness and desperate sadness crash over me. I lie there with tears in my eyes. Because it is not just any stairwell, but OUR stairwell. The one in Pei Chun. I try and stand but it is like my heart is weighing me down. An ache in my chest starts and spreads throughout the rest of my body, immobilizing me. I cannot feel my extremities. A plastic cup flashes across my mind, temporarily breaking me out of whatever it is i was in.
"HERE!"
The voice is sudden and high-pitched. I would've jumped if i wasn't unable to move. The voice came from my right, and i turn to face this fresh assailant on my consciousness.
It is a boy. I see the Pei Chun Primary School uniform on his tiny little body, and i estimate him to be around 9-years-old. I glance at the name-tag, then look at his left knee. Yes. Definitely before younger than 10. There is no scar on the boy's left knee. I got that scar when i was in primary 4.
I watch as the boy sits down at the first step of the stairs. He looks up and grins at me. If i were to wax poetic, i'd say that the sun literally shone off his small, round face. In my current state of being, i have no idea what to say to him. He reaches out with a short arm and without thinking, i do the same. Except that my arm has scars on it. New ones. I glance at it and the boy notices it too. Both of us seem to contemplate something. I focus on the ugly brownish lines on my left arm. The longer i stare, the redder they seem to become. I begin to retract my arm when suddenly the boy opens his mouth.
"I won't bite"
A silence settles itself comfortably between us, and i open my mouth to reply. Before a single sound escapes my lips however, a new voice from behind me answers.
"We'll see"
I turn around to see a cute girl standing there, smiling. Everything else is in darkness, but for the stairwell. She moves past me, not even acknowledging my presence and sits next to the boy. In her hands in a water bottle. As she sits down, she offers it to the boy and he grins as he grabs it from her, before loosening the cap and drinking deeply from it. He appears to have forgotten that i am there. Or maybe he never even knew i was infront of him. Who can tell?
He sets the bottle down and turns to the girl. That stupid, happy grin is still on his face, and i start to tremble. I know what is going to happen next.
I want to scream, to shout, to run. But my legs will not listen. My voice will no comply. I want to stop the poor, happy boy from making one of the biggest mistakes in his life. I want to reach out and pull him away from the girl, put him somewhere safe. I want to separate the 2 of them with as much force as necessary because i want to save the happy, happy boy.
I know what is going to happen, because that boy there, the one about to make friends with someone who will shape his life and his world, is me.
And my scream is lost in the pitch blackness. No one hears my terrible cries. No one notices as i tear at my hair.
No one notices, because the boy is saying something.
"Wanna be friends?"
And Sherms smiles as she takes his hand in hers.
I reach the place where the light was. I am still in darkness. I am about to turn away when suddenly the light flits back into existence. It moves to my left like Tinkerbell, and i am drawn to it as if it has it's own gravitational pull. I look back once at the endless darkness, and step forward toward the light.
A stairwell materializes infront of me, and i cannot help but fall when the near unbearable waves of emptiness and desperate sadness crash over me. I lie there with tears in my eyes. Because it is not just any stairwell, but OUR stairwell. The one in Pei Chun. I try and stand but it is like my heart is weighing me down. An ache in my chest starts and spreads throughout the rest of my body, immobilizing me. I cannot feel my extremities. A plastic cup flashes across my mind, temporarily breaking me out of whatever it is i was in.
"HERE!"
The voice is sudden and high-pitched. I would've jumped if i wasn't unable to move. The voice came from my right, and i turn to face this fresh assailant on my consciousness.
It is a boy. I see the Pei Chun Primary School uniform on his tiny little body, and i estimate him to be around 9-years-old. I glance at the name-tag, then look at his left knee. Yes. Definitely before younger than 10. There is no scar on the boy's left knee. I got that scar when i was in primary 4.
I watch as the boy sits down at the first step of the stairs. He looks up and grins at me. If i were to wax poetic, i'd say that the sun literally shone off his small, round face. In my current state of being, i have no idea what to say to him. He reaches out with a short arm and without thinking, i do the same. Except that my arm has scars on it. New ones. I glance at it and the boy notices it too. Both of us seem to contemplate something. I focus on the ugly brownish lines on my left arm. The longer i stare, the redder they seem to become. I begin to retract my arm when suddenly the boy opens his mouth.
"I won't bite"
A silence settles itself comfortably between us, and i open my mouth to reply. Before a single sound escapes my lips however, a new voice from behind me answers.
"We'll see"
I turn around to see a cute girl standing there, smiling. Everything else is in darkness, but for the stairwell. She moves past me, not even acknowledging my presence and sits next to the boy. In her hands in a water bottle. As she sits down, she offers it to the boy and he grins as he grabs it from her, before loosening the cap and drinking deeply from it. He appears to have forgotten that i am there. Or maybe he never even knew i was infront of him. Who can tell?
He sets the bottle down and turns to the girl. That stupid, happy grin is still on his face, and i start to tremble. I know what is going to happen next.
I want to scream, to shout, to run. But my legs will not listen. My voice will no comply. I want to stop the poor, happy boy from making one of the biggest mistakes in his life. I want to reach out and pull him away from the girl, put him somewhere safe. I want to separate the 2 of them with as much force as necessary because i want to save the happy, happy boy.
I know what is going to happen, because that boy there, the one about to make friends with someone who will shape his life and his world, is me.
And my scream is lost in the pitch blackness. No one hears my terrible cries. No one notices as i tear at my hair.
No one notices, because the boy is saying something.
"Wanna be friends?"
And Sherms smiles as she takes his hand in hers.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Skin and Bones
Lately I've been measuring
Seems my time is growing thin
Wind me up and watch me spin
Watch me spin
Watch me spin
Skin and bones
Skin and bones
Skin and bones don't you know?
- Foo Fighters, Skin and Bones
Lately i've been listening to lots of Foo Fighters. I doubt i'll have the financial capabilities to attend their concert in March though. One ticket is like $130. I don't even have enough money to go out on a regular basis anymore.
I want to work this holidays, for money if nothing else. But Chan and Nat are probably not gonna work. Chan already told me he doesn't want to. Dylan has school... I dunno. I have no motivation to do anything as well. I want to but, i don't want to. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.
Besides i'll be busy filming this holidays. I'm very excited about that part. I feel like this is something i've always been meant to do. Especially now without the stress of school and the pressure of actual, solid deadlines, i can fully enjoy doing what i do.
I think i need a break first though. Last night i slept for almost 7 hours. That's the most i've slept in so, so long.
Things are looking much better already. With adequate sleep, i guess i can better handle a lot of things. Whatever the case, i don't want to repeat the last 3 months or so ever again. it's bad for my mental and physical health.
My plans have been thus far shot to hell though, regarding her. I feel so stupid but what can i do? And there she is so ignorant and blissfully unaware. But whatever.
Not gonna think too much. I hope.
I just wanna write a lot more, and sleep too. Then i'll wake up and write some more.
Seems my time is growing thin
Wind me up and watch me spin
Watch me spin
Watch me spin
Skin and bones
Skin and bones
Skin and bones don't you know?
- Foo Fighters, Skin and Bones
Lately i've been listening to lots of Foo Fighters. I doubt i'll have the financial capabilities to attend their concert in March though. One ticket is like $130. I don't even have enough money to go out on a regular basis anymore.
I want to work this holidays, for money if nothing else. But Chan and Nat are probably not gonna work. Chan already told me he doesn't want to. Dylan has school... I dunno. I have no motivation to do anything as well. I want to but, i don't want to. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.
Besides i'll be busy filming this holidays. I'm very excited about that part. I feel like this is something i've always been meant to do. Especially now without the stress of school and the pressure of actual, solid deadlines, i can fully enjoy doing what i do.
I think i need a break first though. Last night i slept for almost 7 hours. That's the most i've slept in so, so long.
Things are looking much better already. With adequate sleep, i guess i can better handle a lot of things. Whatever the case, i don't want to repeat the last 3 months or so ever again. it's bad for my mental and physical health.
My plans have been thus far shot to hell though, regarding her. I feel so stupid but what can i do? And there she is so ignorant and blissfully unaware. But whatever.
Not gonna think too much. I hope.
I just wanna write a lot more, and sleep too. Then i'll wake up and write some more.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
I'm no stranger to lonely moments
Please don't go, please don't leave me alone.
A mirror, is so much harder, to hold.
-Jon Foreman
I could try to point a finger, but the glass points in my direction.
I walk out of my house with the music still in my head. The sun nowhere to be found, i step outside and take a deep breath. There is the distinct smell of rain everywhere i turn. The wonderful rain-like smell i have few words to describe.
I inch forward and tilt my head up to see the sky crying. I feel sad because the clouds are. In primary school, i learnt that it rains because the water vapor in the clouds is too heavy for the cloud to handle. Like us, i guess there's only so much we can take before we let it all out and cry our sorrows away. Or at least try to. Even clouds have a limit. Even the heavens cry.
The 4 steps before me seem so small. I climb down them and sit on my front porch.
At this point, my Disneyland shirt is soaked. My hair is plastered to my face as the water hits me relentlessly. I shiver a little when a breeze rolls by my solitary position. But i still sit there. In the rain.
I love it.
I love everything about the rain.
I love how the saltwater hits you and then slides off your skin. I love how it drips from your hair, and how just before a droplet falls, it clings to the strand like it doesn't want to let go. I love how the skies get dark and the winds pick up. I love how there is no sun, no warmth. I love how the water keeps on falling from the sky.
Perhaps most of all, i love the sound of rain.
I love the way it sounds like small pebbles hitting glass. I love how 1 tiny drop barely makes a sound, but the millions combine to make an orchestra. I love how when it hits trees, the leaves shake and shiver as if from the shock of cold and wet. I love how it makes people and animals alike scramble for some sort of shelter. Like bats outside a dark cave, searching desperately for the pitch blackness again. I love the sound of the droplets hitting the ground. Plop. Plop. Plop. What a symphony.
I sit there in my own tiny world of water. All my clothes are soaked and my hair is all over my head. I reach out to brush a patch of hair that's on my forehead. More of my skin is exposed to the cleansing water. I want to shout. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to run around until my legs burn and my breath is short. I want to play music so loud people in Kovan call the police. I want to stay out here in the rain forever.
I look up again. Shielding my eyes from the stinging salt water. The clouds are so sad. So angry and big and menacing, but so very sad. I feel like reaching out and asking them what is wrong. But as i look down on the wet ground, i realize i don't even know what is wrong with myself.
The last 2 days i've been more lonely than i thought i'd be. But that's okay. I have Wallace. I have my guitar. But they're not her.
A car passes by my front gate, and the driver shoots me a weird look. It's the man from #8. I utter a silent prayer for him not to tell my parents. If he was even going to bother that is. They don't need to know why their son is out in the chilling rain, just sitting there and staring into space.
I raise my arms and feel the rain hit the skin below my wrists. I was so stupid today. Words cannot begin to describe how incredibly stupid i was. The saltwater is making IT hurt, so i pull my left arm back to my body. It hurts badly now. Very much so. I put my arms under my shirt and it's marginally better.
I am tempted to lie down. I glance at the neighbours house, to make sure no one is going to call IMH. The house is dark and locked. Exactly how i feel. I could wax poetic about how i feel, but it would be the same song sung with different words.
I lie down with a hand over my eyes. My right hand. My left arm is still safe beneath my shirt, although it still hurts like hell.
As the back of my head touches the cold, wet ground, a flood of memories rush through my mind. Memories of a long forgotten past. I remember the smell of cooking noodles, the heat of the fires under the mesh tins, the taste of nutella in my mouth, the feel of sweat running down my neck and back. I remember the laughter and the groans of complaints, and i remember the fear as Edwin walks past, telling us to clean up after ourselves and warning us of the consequences of not doing so.
I remember CLTC, because it rained. Because it taught me so much about who i am, and who i could be. Because it rained and i loved it. I fell in love with it then because it washed away everything i was feeling. It washed away the doubt and the hatred, the weariness and the contempt. The numbness and the frustration. I remember curling up inside the classroom with the rain battering the windows. Tiki Pole clutched protectively between my legs. I remember falling asleep to her text message, telling me everything will be alright and that she'll be waiting.
Another car goes past my gate and i am brought back to reality. I am no longer in the dark, dank classroom. She is no longer waiting for me. And i no longer want her to.
Plop. Plop. Plop.
I love everything about the rain.
A mirror, is so much harder, to hold.
-Jon Foreman
I could try to point a finger, but the glass points in my direction.
I walk out of my house with the music still in my head. The sun nowhere to be found, i step outside and take a deep breath. There is the distinct smell of rain everywhere i turn. The wonderful rain-like smell i have few words to describe.
I inch forward and tilt my head up to see the sky crying. I feel sad because the clouds are. In primary school, i learnt that it rains because the water vapor in the clouds is too heavy for the cloud to handle. Like us, i guess there's only so much we can take before we let it all out and cry our sorrows away. Or at least try to. Even clouds have a limit. Even the heavens cry.
The 4 steps before me seem so small. I climb down them and sit on my front porch.
At this point, my Disneyland shirt is soaked. My hair is plastered to my face as the water hits me relentlessly. I shiver a little when a breeze rolls by my solitary position. But i still sit there. In the rain.
I love it.
I love everything about the rain.
I love how the saltwater hits you and then slides off your skin. I love how it drips from your hair, and how just before a droplet falls, it clings to the strand like it doesn't want to let go. I love how the skies get dark and the winds pick up. I love how there is no sun, no warmth. I love how the water keeps on falling from the sky.
Perhaps most of all, i love the sound of rain.
I love the way it sounds like small pebbles hitting glass. I love how 1 tiny drop barely makes a sound, but the millions combine to make an orchestra. I love how when it hits trees, the leaves shake and shiver as if from the shock of cold and wet. I love how it makes people and animals alike scramble for some sort of shelter. Like bats outside a dark cave, searching desperately for the pitch blackness again. I love the sound of the droplets hitting the ground. Plop. Plop. Plop. What a symphony.
I sit there in my own tiny world of water. All my clothes are soaked and my hair is all over my head. I reach out to brush a patch of hair that's on my forehead. More of my skin is exposed to the cleansing water. I want to shout. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to run around until my legs burn and my breath is short. I want to play music so loud people in Kovan call the police. I want to stay out here in the rain forever.
I look up again. Shielding my eyes from the stinging salt water. The clouds are so sad. So angry and big and menacing, but so very sad. I feel like reaching out and asking them what is wrong. But as i look down on the wet ground, i realize i don't even know what is wrong with myself.
The last 2 days i've been more lonely than i thought i'd be. But that's okay. I have Wallace. I have my guitar. But they're not her.
A car passes by my front gate, and the driver shoots me a weird look. It's the man from #8. I utter a silent prayer for him not to tell my parents. If he was even going to bother that is. They don't need to know why their son is out in the chilling rain, just sitting there and staring into space.
I raise my arms and feel the rain hit the skin below my wrists. I was so stupid today. Words cannot begin to describe how incredibly stupid i was. The saltwater is making IT hurt, so i pull my left arm back to my body. It hurts badly now. Very much so. I put my arms under my shirt and it's marginally better.
I am tempted to lie down. I glance at the neighbours house, to make sure no one is going to call IMH. The house is dark and locked. Exactly how i feel. I could wax poetic about how i feel, but it would be the same song sung with different words.
I lie down with a hand over my eyes. My right hand. My left arm is still safe beneath my shirt, although it still hurts like hell.
As the back of my head touches the cold, wet ground, a flood of memories rush through my mind. Memories of a long forgotten past. I remember the smell of cooking noodles, the heat of the fires under the mesh tins, the taste of nutella in my mouth, the feel of sweat running down my neck and back. I remember the laughter and the groans of complaints, and i remember the fear as Edwin walks past, telling us to clean up after ourselves and warning us of the consequences of not doing so.
I remember CLTC, because it rained. Because it taught me so much about who i am, and who i could be. Because it rained and i loved it. I fell in love with it then because it washed away everything i was feeling. It washed away the doubt and the hatred, the weariness and the contempt. The numbness and the frustration. I remember curling up inside the classroom with the rain battering the windows. Tiki Pole clutched protectively between my legs. I remember falling asleep to her text message, telling me everything will be alright and that she'll be waiting.
Another car goes past my gate and i am brought back to reality. I am no longer in the dark, dank classroom. She is no longer waiting for me. And i no longer want her to.
Plop. Plop. Plop.
I love everything about the rain.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Just a short random story i have no idea how i thought of
Whiteness.
Everywhere he turns he just sees the same, blank whiteness. The mountain top he is on provides a view that many would kill to see. The winds howl in his ears, carrying fell voices. He turns to his left and in the vast expense of whiteness, he makes out a light green tint in the distance.
A tree. The only sign of life other than himself for miles.
The snow falls freely around him. Surrounding him. He reaches out a trembling arm, palm open. A single snowflake falls and he barely winces at the shock of cold that hits his skin. His face, already flushed from the snow, is now numb.
His scarf does little to nothing to help with the cold. Reaching out with his other hand, he lowers the sleeves of his coat, previously rolled up to assist in climbing the mountain top.
It helps just a little. The biting cold is not fully expelled from his body, but nonetheless, every little bit helps.
He sits down, on that lonely, snow-covered mountain top. He looks out once again at the white canvas before him. No people, no buildings, no lights even. Just the endless, endless white. He reaches out with a finger and traces an "R" on the ground before him. His finger numb from the contact with the snow, he sits back with arms crossed, legs unfolded.
There is nothing here. Nothing but the untouched whiteness and the silence but for the cries of the wind and the trees. There are no birds chirping, no cars rushing past, no city lights flickering on and off, no nothing.
He watches as the snow slowly fills up the R that he had previously drawn on the ground. Before long there is no trace of it left. No evidence that there was ever once any imperfection on the layer of pure white snow.
His caps falls a little to his left. He lifts his right arm up to stabilize it. As he does so, a gust of chilling wind sweeps the area, and hits him right at his now vacant right side. He barely shivers, used to the cold.
It is so lonely on this mountaintop. He knows this. The silence and the solitude drew him to it like a poor, doomed moth to a flame. The complete isolation. The lack of sound and the nothingness. The white stretches out before him like an ocean. A colourless, pure ocean of cold and blankness that he cannot help but admire. His thoughts are his own as he hits there, now with his legs crossed. His coat, thick as it is, provides only minimal warmth in this place.
He likes it. The numb is good. The unfeeling chill seeps through his body and he embraces it with open arms. His eyes burn and he forces himself to blink. It hurts but it reminds him he is alive.
All that effort it took to reach this mountaintop was not in vain. He is finally alone. Away.
Behind him, there is a backpack. He turns and looks at it, seemingly only just remembering that it is there. He reaches for it, barely moving from his spot.
He pulls out a book and turns through the pages, feeling the decaying paper on his fingertips. It is as blank as the horizon before him.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an object.
The sound the pen makes as he opens its cap echoes throughout the tiny world he is in. No one hears, and no one cares.
And now all that is left, is the scratching of pen on paper.
Everywhere he turns he just sees the same, blank whiteness. The mountain top he is on provides a view that many would kill to see. The winds howl in his ears, carrying fell voices. He turns to his left and in the vast expense of whiteness, he makes out a light green tint in the distance.
A tree. The only sign of life other than himself for miles.
The snow falls freely around him. Surrounding him. He reaches out a trembling arm, palm open. A single snowflake falls and he barely winces at the shock of cold that hits his skin. His face, already flushed from the snow, is now numb.
His scarf does little to nothing to help with the cold. Reaching out with his other hand, he lowers the sleeves of his coat, previously rolled up to assist in climbing the mountain top.
It helps just a little. The biting cold is not fully expelled from his body, but nonetheless, every little bit helps.
He sits down, on that lonely, snow-covered mountain top. He looks out once again at the white canvas before him. No people, no buildings, no lights even. Just the endless, endless white. He reaches out with a finger and traces an "R" on the ground before him. His finger numb from the contact with the snow, he sits back with arms crossed, legs unfolded.
There is nothing here. Nothing but the untouched whiteness and the silence but for the cries of the wind and the trees. There are no birds chirping, no cars rushing past, no city lights flickering on and off, no nothing.
He watches as the snow slowly fills up the R that he had previously drawn on the ground. Before long there is no trace of it left. No evidence that there was ever once any imperfection on the layer of pure white snow.
His caps falls a little to his left. He lifts his right arm up to stabilize it. As he does so, a gust of chilling wind sweeps the area, and hits him right at his now vacant right side. He barely shivers, used to the cold.
It is so lonely on this mountaintop. He knows this. The silence and the solitude drew him to it like a poor, doomed moth to a flame. The complete isolation. The lack of sound and the nothingness. The white stretches out before him like an ocean. A colourless, pure ocean of cold and blankness that he cannot help but admire. His thoughts are his own as he hits there, now with his legs crossed. His coat, thick as it is, provides only minimal warmth in this place.
He likes it. The numb is good. The unfeeling chill seeps through his body and he embraces it with open arms. His eyes burn and he forces himself to blink. It hurts but it reminds him he is alive.
All that effort it took to reach this mountaintop was not in vain. He is finally alone. Away.
Behind him, there is a backpack. He turns and looks at it, seemingly only just remembering that it is there. He reaches for it, barely moving from his spot.
He pulls out a book and turns through the pages, feeling the decaying paper on his fingertips. It is as blank as the horizon before him.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an object.
The sound the pen makes as he opens its cap echoes throughout the tiny world he is in. No one hears, and no one cares.
And now all that is left, is the scratching of pen on paper.
Slow dancing in a burning room
I couldn't find a more appropriate song title to fit this post.
It also describes exactly what i'm seeing right now. The 2 of you oblivious to the fire and just dancing away the night, hoping everything will be okay despite the heat. It's like someone took a piece of my past and put it in my present. Or should i say, your present. It's Sherms all over again.
All 3 of us know how it's going to end, and it starts with "B" and ends with "adly".
I'm feeling too much now to actually put it into words. Like there's such a ton of things i want to write and say that my fingers can't possibly keep up. It's late and i've had just about 4 hours of sleep the previous day after the shoot. Why? I dunno.
I just hope that when shit hits the fan you realize that it's been bound to happen all along.
As for YOU?
I'm over you.
It also describes exactly what i'm seeing right now. The 2 of you oblivious to the fire and just dancing away the night, hoping everything will be okay despite the heat. It's like someone took a piece of my past and put it in my present. Or should i say, your present. It's Sherms all over again.
All 3 of us know how it's going to end, and it starts with "B" and ends with "adly".
I'm feeling too much now to actually put it into words. Like there's such a ton of things i want to write and say that my fingers can't possibly keep up. It's late and i've had just about 4 hours of sleep the previous day after the shoot. Why? I dunno.
I just hope that when shit hits the fan you realize that it's been bound to happen all along.
As for YOU?
I'm over you.
Friday, February 10, 2012
My mind is dull and shattered from these years of buy and sell. My mind has seen the glory, of this hollow, modern shell
Oh.
I guess they'll say i should've known.
I know more, than i wanted to know, and i've said more, than i'd wanted to say.
- Southbound Train, Jon Foreman.
Another hot and tiring day today. My eyes feel like they're burning sometimes. There's this dull ache at the back of the sockets that really feel like electric razors running through my corneas. Maybe i should get it checked. Speaking of which, the pains in my head have lessened slightly (what a coincidence, in conjunction with Marcomm and Webgra finally ending). But these pains are still there and today it was really bad. I'm so afraid i may've been rather snarkier with Lindsay's group, whom i was helping out today. My bad.
It's just that the pain is so bad sometimes. This morning was really something else though.
I got off the bus, White As Snow in my ears and head. I decided then and there to turn around and walk towards KAP. Class was gonna start in 10 minutes but i really could've cared less. I spent a morning of solitude and reflection in KAP. Looking out the glass window, i couldn't help but notice my reflection. Jon Foreman says a mirror is easier to hold, but i beg to differ.
In my reflection i saw someone i don't think i quite liked.
Also, when i went to wash up after that, i noticed my huge, gigantic eyebags. Sleep is a luxury i could ill-afford last time. And now when i can finally get a little more, the insomnia is coming back. I feel so damn tired all the time. No amount of sleep can cure it and i always wake up feeling like shit. Sometimes i even wake up feeling more tired than i did falling asleep. Does that even bloody make sense?
Watched Inception today. Such an emotional show for me. Yes, it's a mind screw to enjoy.
But the deeper, more subtle message of the show can only be truly found after much thought. Or in my case, experience.
It's the message that someone has so much power over you. Think about it. You love someone so much, so, so much. So much so that that person (literally!) seeps into your very being. It eats at your consciousness and your thoughts.
That person influences your actions and your thought-processes. Until the point that you do things not because you want to, but because it'd make that other person happier or something to that effect. The worst and scariest part is, you don't even know how much you're letting this person influence and touch your life because it's as natural as breathing.
No matter how many layers, or in Leo's case, floors, you bury that person under, he/she is always there screaming to be let out. There is no cage in this world big or strong enough to contain an idea. And ideas are bulletproof.
What i'm trying to say is, the very thought of someone ELSE having such complete and utter POWER over YOUR life without you even consciously realizing it is too scary a thought. Love is the culprit in almost all cases. It's really a case of loving someone so damn much till it becomes your very being. People always says couples and all that are considered as one person etc. It's actually quite true.
Such a depressing, scary thought. I doubt i'd ever be able to trust another human being that much. He/She will have the power to break or define me. I'm not sure having that choice in hands that are not my own is the best thing to do.
Sigh.
I guess they'll say i should've known.
I know more, than i wanted to know, and i've said more, than i'd wanted to say.
- Southbound Train, Jon Foreman.
Another hot and tiring day today. My eyes feel like they're burning sometimes. There's this dull ache at the back of the sockets that really feel like electric razors running through my corneas. Maybe i should get it checked. Speaking of which, the pains in my head have lessened slightly (what a coincidence, in conjunction with Marcomm and Webgra finally ending). But these pains are still there and today it was really bad. I'm so afraid i may've been rather snarkier with Lindsay's group, whom i was helping out today. My bad.
It's just that the pain is so bad sometimes. This morning was really something else though.
I got off the bus, White As Snow in my ears and head. I decided then and there to turn around and walk towards KAP. Class was gonna start in 10 minutes but i really could've cared less. I spent a morning of solitude and reflection in KAP. Looking out the glass window, i couldn't help but notice my reflection. Jon Foreman says a mirror is easier to hold, but i beg to differ.
In my reflection i saw someone i don't think i quite liked.
Also, when i went to wash up after that, i noticed my huge, gigantic eyebags. Sleep is a luxury i could ill-afford last time. And now when i can finally get a little more, the insomnia is coming back. I feel so damn tired all the time. No amount of sleep can cure it and i always wake up feeling like shit. Sometimes i even wake up feeling more tired than i did falling asleep. Does that even bloody make sense?
Watched Inception today. Such an emotional show for me. Yes, it's a mind screw to enjoy.
But the deeper, more subtle message of the show can only be truly found after much thought. Or in my case, experience.
It's the message that someone has so much power over you. Think about it. You love someone so much, so, so much. So much so that that person (literally!) seeps into your very being. It eats at your consciousness and your thoughts.
That person influences your actions and your thought-processes. Until the point that you do things not because you want to, but because it'd make that other person happier or something to that effect. The worst and scariest part is, you don't even know how much you're letting this person influence and touch your life because it's as natural as breathing.
No matter how many layers, or in Leo's case, floors, you bury that person under, he/she is always there screaming to be let out. There is no cage in this world big or strong enough to contain an idea. And ideas are bulletproof.
What i'm trying to say is, the very thought of someone ELSE having such complete and utter POWER over YOUR life without you even consciously realizing it is too scary a thought. Love is the culprit in almost all cases. It's really a case of loving someone so damn much till it becomes your very being. People always says couples and all that are considered as one person etc. It's actually quite true.
Such a depressing, scary thought. I doubt i'd ever be able to trust another human being that much. He/She will have the power to break or define me. I'm not sure having that choice in hands that are not my own is the best thing to do.
Sigh.
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