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27.5.11

very short rant

Because it gratifies you so much to think so many are "falling under your spell", doesn't it? All I can say is, don't flatter yourself.

26.5.11

:)

We revel in the warmth of spring for knowing the bitterness of winter. We can love the light because we remember the terror of the dark. We savour the victory remembering the defeats that paved the road towards it.

We treasure the happiness of this moment, for the tears that we shed in search of it.

20.5.11

dizzy and blinded

This has been the most terrifying ride that life has ever taken me on. Even now, the rush of everything hasn't faded from my eyes, and I'm still seeing afterimages of moments-now-redundant. Now-irrelevant. I can't seem to make sense of the chronological sequence of things sometimes. It all happened in one burst, a million sparks dashed against my world... I don't know which feelings to deny, which to embrace. I'm still wary. Because I'm still afraid of having happiness ripped from my grip again.

I'm just glad the storm is settling at last, for now.

17.5.11

When the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning after a night without nightmares is cry, you know you're taking things badly.

The fact is. I can't do this. How do you get over someone for whom you feel to this extent? Now, I'm sure that's the thing about heartbreak that makes it so difficult--that you're being forced to give up on a love you were so certain about.

I feel so dead inside, I no longer know if I'm really alive.

16.5.11

rue

Did anyone else have a bad day today? I wonder. Could we all group hug and encourage each other, just so we know we are not alone? I hear the hockey guys were thrashed today. It makes me feel not so alone to know that, however mean that sounds...I guess.

(Today, I cried six times, for a total of 2 hours. And I feel like I could cry more. Cry until there's nothing left in me and die upon my bed.)
What's wrong with me? What am I doing with my life that's wrong? I keep getting worse and worse. I keep messing important things up. I keep letting myself fall prey to my own destructive reasoning. When can I stop being like that? Can I stop being like that? Why won't someone just TELL me already--why can I never do anything right, why is it so easy to hate me, why am I LIKE THIS? I don't want to be this person. I hate who I am. I know I'm not supposed to think this way, but I just, plain, downright hate myself!

I can't wait to die. I hope I die unnaturally, soon. I hope it is by weapon, or by poison, or by suffocation. I don't want this life. I hate it.

how strange

that I can only fully accept my feelings after realising that there's no hope left in keeping them. It's like dancing in a field of dead flowers.

gasping for air

Heartbreak never was easy. It's always the same, however many times it befalls you. However used you think you are to the pain, it always hits you like nothing you ever expected it to be. It leaves you numb everywhere, shivering but sweating, wondering why the worst possibility was the one that came to fruition. And it fades, so incredibly, excruciatingly slowly, in this meandering manner, into the night, that makes your mouth taste of regret.

It's really quite the same pain as hearing someone shower hate upon a work of art or a written piece, or the same pain as being betrayed by your very best friend--same cold shock, same gut-wrenching disbelief, same confusion at what you did wrong. The same way you invested a part of your soul in something you believed so much in--only to watch it collapse upon you.

You'd think, from all the stories from childhood, that passion and hope are enough to get you what you want, however unlikely. But life just isn't like that. Life winds on, and you don't really matter in the big scheme of things, nor whatever feelings you felt, whatever hopes you hoped, things that you slowly gave too much of yourself to, committed yourself to.

For an idealist like me, it's still as hard to accept that fact, every time I learn it again.

There is a reason to the mad devotion I gave to this hope. It was so thunderous, so raging and so strong, and I was so sure and so desperate about it, that I thought it couldn't go unanswered.

Stop being idealistic. I wish I had learnt my lesson from the past few times.

It's just...this time, I was so sure. I was so blinded. I felt like the luckiest person in the world, to have met someone like...him. And I wanted to hang onto this chance that the world gave me. I thought there was no way I could regret it. I should have realised this would start a lie.

Don't I know? Didn't I just do the same, to someone else, for the same reason, in a similar circumstance?

Life proves as complex as it always has been. I feel it within my capacity to feel happy for him and whomever he will choose, over me. I think I am ready to let go of everything. But then the regret remains, as always--that the closest I came to fulfilling this blazing hope was within a lie we both made for ourselves.

I'm sorry, if you're reading this right now. And to more than one person. If friendship is the best we can do, so be it. I love you enough, in any sense, in every sense, to let everything else go.

15.5.11

hurt...

Please stop playing with my feelings like this. I don't expect anyone to listen, but I need to say it anyway. It's hurting, so please...

14.5.11

wish me luck

So much changed this week. Well...so much changes every week. It's just this time, life has changed in a way I never thought it would. This is uncharted territory. I'm going into it blind.

poison

Another night of lying to myself.
Another night of not knowing if I'm chasing nothing.
I know this is poison, but I love it too much to stop.

11.5.11

this is frustrating.

Some people just can't tell when they're intruding. Some people just insist on being oblivious. Or disguising purpose with oblivion.

9.5.11

pattern

Let's stop being indirect. I am hating my life right now. Absolutely hating it.

At one point, I thought I could love it. That was when I was new to JC and everything was sparkly and novel and fascinating. Now I'm used to it. It's become cyclic and tiring. And it's so futile. At the end of each week, I only come to the realisation that there is yet another week beginning tomorrow: another week of fighting to meet expectations, another week of keeping away from people I'll never like, another week of having my heart broken and then mended to be broken again. Always the same.

And every time I finish a piece of homework, finish a part of a project, I cannot feel any accomplishment for it--because finishing that merely means I can finally move on to the next. Every time I try to relax, there comes an overwhelming guilt that I'm not doing the work I should be doing, something that completely nullifies whatever comfort I thought I'd gain from resting.

I want this to stop. If this is what life will be from now till I die, why am I living it?

8.5.11

don't you let it go

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go
I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew
This night is flawless, don't you let it go
I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew
I was enchanted to meet you


Please don't be in love with someone else
Please don't have somebody waiting on you


-Enchanted, Taylor Swift

7.5.11

desperate

Please don't change this.

For what it's worth, please don't change how things are going. I know this might be as close as I get to happiness. And I would settle for it.

It's beautiful; as long as it's this way, it's perfect. Please don't break the spell. Please don't change it. It doesn't matter if it can't be more. Don't make it less.

not again

Oh well. I am sick. Mild fever.

I frankly hope it's over by tomorrow. I need to finish editing my PI.

4.5.11

i should write a song about it.

So much happening. Too rapid a flurry, of frantic gestures and parting lights, and a cutting ream of paper in my arms. Five months passing as if they're one.

I should write a song about it. Every tear shed. Every sigh sighed. Every person met. Every person touched; now that's special.

--even a short song. I feel like my slow loss of connection with music and words, the closing of a gateway, is the reason things hurt so bad.

My heartbeat slows, and I wonder if I should turn the lights off now...

do i want to know?

I'm beginning to learn the answers to all the questions I had before. All the fears I had till yesterday, the worries based upon potentials. I've spent all this time thinking that they, the answers, will break me. But no, the answers tell me all: I am not supposed to know.

I've been fretting over things that haven't even become vaguely definite yet. I need to unwind, relax. Remember that my life and well-being isn't ruled by this one insecurity. The fact is, I don't know which way things are going to go. And no one can tell me for certain, which way they will.

I'll just have to wait, and hope I'm ready for both, for all, possibilities. I guess.

Most of all, I can't let this distract me from what is real and definite and important. What I have control over. What will stay for the rest of my life.

will you stay for the rest of my life?

3.5.11

end of hoping

But is this only the grip of mere fears and unconfirmed worries?

A coldness seizes and drowns my heart every time I see the way they talk. It is excruciating, and then it begins to numb me. I feel like I'm worrying about something I shouldn't care about. But what can I do but care?

Do I know the feeling of heartbreak? I do not know if this is it, but I think I do.

2.5.11

familiarity

I wonder if you can tell that I'm waiting for you to say something. I'd never be brave enough to.

Why does this feel so familiar?

It's like a loop. Here we go again. Back where we started. Da Capo.

curled edges of old manuscripts

Is it a bad thing?

I no longer dream of my stories. No more thoughts of flying on birds and falling through forests.

I'm dreaming of real people. Hard, concrete places. Walls.

I no longer find inspiration barrelling into me like a wall of wind and frost when I open the windows.

And the worst thing is, I don't need it anymore.

I don't make time. I'm not trying. Life is pulling me in, and I'm letting it.

My soul does not cry out against this loss.

And I suppose this is what returning to reality feels like.
It's not like losing your voice; it's more like slowly forgetting the lyrics.

1.5.11

a reprise/a long afterthought



(A little pretentious for me to be reposting this so often--but for those who don't know, I've done a rearrangement, because the previous version of the instrumental was completely unfelt, the music having been composed before I even decided it'd be a graduation song.)

I like this version better, personally. But is it too soft and too pessimistic?

Student: Oh, must this be?
Is this the end?
After this day, will I
Really leave these things behind?

Teacher: Don’t you cry!
Look at the sky, oh
Can’t you see it
Smiling down at you?

Student: No, I thought we would be forever!
Why must we end this way?

Teacher: But dearest child, you can’t look back
You’ve lived your whole life for this day…

CHORUS
Sometimes it’s painful I know
Watching these memories die
But till you learn to let go,
You’ll never know how to fly
Birds don’t forget how to sing
No matter how far they might stray
Don’t you know, there are some things
That time can’t take away
From you

(Instrumental interlude)

Child, you must know this nest is
Only a place to rest and
Learn, learn to be strong

Some day, when you have flown
This, I have always known
I’ll pray, you find a place you belong

Yes it’s

CHORUS
Painful I know
Watching these memories die
But wherever you go,
We’re under the same blue sky
You must go! You must leave this nest
Take flight, see the very best
Of life, seek out that echoing song!

Student: Am I ready, am I too weak?
Will I find this song I seek?
Somehow, I fear to lose my way
How can I let the wind whisk me away?

Teacher: Trust yourself
Student: You’ve taught me well
Teacher: Take the sky
Student: Trust your compass
Teacher: Oh, it’s

CHORUS
Painful I know
Watching these memories die
But till you learn to let go,
You’ll never know how to fly
Birds don’t forget how to sing
No matter how far they might stray
Don’t you know, there are some things
That time can’t take away

Student: I’ll learn to let go
These memories don’t have to die
‘Cause wherever I go
We’re under the same blue sky
You have taught me to sing—
And someday, I’ll find you that song!

Both: This is farewell, I suppose
But who said this is the end? So long…