turn away

You proved my point precisely. I'm not worth it, am I? Not worth your time. Not worth your consideration. Not enough such that you'd try to help. I'm sorry for being a bitter person.

You sound sad, and sadder everyday. Are you sure this is what you want, where you want to be?

i noticed...

I just noticed that life seems to have become extremely eventful this year. Half a year past, and I have written more blogposts than I did for the entirety of last year.

life in song

If there's any language I'd call my mother tongue, it is music. That is the language I grew up learning and using. That is the language that I feel proudest to know. Music took up the place that this other grafted mother tongue was supposed to occupy.

I wish my parents would stop trying to rectify a mistake they made a decade too long ago.

significant

I live for little moments like these, the ones that really matter even though they seem of so little significance. The moments we always miss for the sake of something so obstructively near, that brusquely declares itself the only reason our lives will mean anything.

It may seem that small, joyous moments of pre-adulthood are born of ignorant foolishness, but really I think they're the last hints of true happiness we will ever have a chance to hold. I have a feeling they'll be the moments I'll treasure most, once I've moved on into the next place.

i wonder

The darkness came in steps, in phases, in cycles.

Now I wonder when the change first came, when I first fell into the dark. Three years ago? Seven years ago? Maybe it was scripted to happen, the way I was made, the way I am. Was it the day I learnt that I could create? Was it the day I began to believe, the reason I lived was to create and annihilate? My life became art and art became my life, and I suppose the cruel duality of hate and love, that came when I tied myself to it, will haunt me in my blood and bones forever. Is it the day I learnt what 'death' is, and 'hopelessness'? Was it the day I realised that I had the power to destroy myself?

I wonder when my will was defeated so. Will to live for anything else. Will to trust myself. Will to be.

Perhaps life back then, however unimaginably torturous it seemed, will always be better than life in the recent years that have just passed and fled. At least, then, I knew how to know when I was happy, how to be happy, how to hold onto it. Certain perfumes and aromas remind me of the red arches and the gardens a little too small, among which--I taught a friend a song under a staircase, I lost a thumbdrive, I gazed at a bent-tailed fish, I played a game I've completely forgotten.

I wonder where that happiness, that happiness in storybooks past, has gone. I wonder when I stopped loving the snow. I guess it all happened the day I grew up.

At certain checkpoints in my life, I pause, and begin to think: that I'm a little sadder now than I was before. I think to myself that I won't ever return to the way I was when I was six. Sadder and sadder, year by year. A one way road I would never walk again. Turning back with rue and nostalgia. Wishing my happiness goodbye, as if it would never return.

But now this is strange, and I never expected it. I wonder why I feel as if a darkness has lifted from my life, a darkness I didn't even realise existed till now. I wonder why I feel happier today, than I have for the last seven years of my life.

I never realised that my happiness had vanished, until I found it again.

laaaa

ahh <3 suspensions...IsusII! IVsusV!!!
7th chords! 9th chords! <3<3<3

the eighth day

Sorry, this is horribly late, but well, here at last.


Day 8: Three favorite Cartoon Characters


That includes anime, yes? Also includes 3D animation, yes?


1. Maya Wei from Oban Star Racers. Mainly because she died the most tragic way imaginable, as a stepping stone of fate, and yet went to her death with a smile, a sign, that she would be alright. Even if she never would be. It's all we see of her, really. That, and her daughter's constant memory of the mother she seems to admire and love so much.


2. Toph Bei Fong from Avatar: The Last Airbender. She is the personification of unseen (pun not intended!), invisible power. So hard to shake, so immensely powerful within her own fragility. Twelve-year-old girls are the last people you would suspect of being the best Earthbenders in the world. Also, prodigies FTW!!!


3. Shen from Kung Fu Panda 2. OH MAII. The most beautiful, awe-inspiring villain I have ever seen. A peacock who is deadly with a spear...a tragic backstory that involved his parents......who could ask for more... <3

note.

No, the previous post was not about a breakup. Because too many people have been asking if it was.

end.

End.

Maybe I used to believe I'd never feel strongly, crazily enough to want this. It was something I just couldn't imagine myself wanting, I reflected when I gazed inside me and saw what I thought was my heart in bare honesty. That's what I believed, before I discovered how emotions truly worked, how little control I actually held over what and who they chose.

Then, maybe I used to believe there'd be no problem in parting, because any bond I entered would be simple enough for me to disentangle myself from. That’s how I thought my life would go eventually. That's what I believed before I met someone whom I could not simply leave, the way I swore I could before.

When the ball ends and the clock strikes twelve, turn away, turn so he cannot see you, and say goodbye. No smile. Race down the glittering staircase with the night in your wings. Not another glimpse, not another song. Leave no glass shoe to find you by.

Maybe I used to think that, on that last night before we parted ways, it would be so easy for me to say "it's alright" and maybe even "good luck with life" and let him slip away without my heart tearing to pieces.

And I would go my own way. The doors would pass, the doors all around me. And the lights would dim behind as the double-doors grew further, the sounds of young women and men drinking themselves crazy upon stories even sadder than my own. As my footsteps echoed down a corridor too hollow to breathe in.

How silly, now--it's barely begun! I don't even know if we'll be together till then.

But I feel we will. And let's say we do.

And then I wonder, who will hurt more?

End. Sometimes it's better that way. Sometimes it's the only way. Hope as we might, in the colour of stars unfathomable distances away, sometimes a bond must be broken so new ones can form. Holding on too hard is only going to make it hurt even more.

This is not a fairy tale. Sometimes the stories fool you to think there is more hope in the world than there really is, than can ever be. They fool you to believe you can change even an iota of it.

I would leave for university somewhere. Learn to draw houses larger than any I'd ever own. Learn to write symphonies I couldn't play. It would all end when that day was past, when 12 midnight soared by in the night rain and the curtains finally closed. I don't know where he'll go. I'm afraid to wonder. But it will end, without exception. Too vast a distance in between.

But then, I can't stop hoping.

Maybe I used to think I could tear myself from a relationship without destroying a part of myself with it. Well, now I know I can't. I wait and keep quiet inside myself because I can't let this affect the life of the present. I wait and hope, and only speak of it in the silence of written words, in corners like this where it's safe and not so painful. But then it lingers, this denial, this fear that never goes away.

The tears still come.

testing: first blogpost via email

So if this works, that's great. Blogging on my phone via the blogger dashboard is such a pain...

I feel so sick inside my heart...I feel like I just swallowed a bottle of poison...I feel like vomiting it all out, but my throat is clamped shut...

Time ticks away. Too little time. Won't someone just give me a definite answer before I fall apart again?

last sentence

I know that saying this is allowing myself to be completely vulnerable...but I love you. I really do.

another small thought

So life is the pendulum it has always been. A pendulum that can't stop swinging. Even when it comes to turbulence or fire or sunlight. It arrives at its lows and swoops to its highs, but ultimately it doesn't grow any heavier nor any lighter, only slower and slower and less and less--wild. Until it stops.

Well then, it seems I'd be glad to terminate it as soon as I can, this grating monotony of joy and sorrow interchanging. This life. So simple, really. I have the means. Why experience the joy when with it also comes equal sorrow?

Yet I don't: for fear of the ultimate pain, for guilt, for the ones who will cry when I go...

Isn't biding against the frost worthwhile, if I can know how it feels to bask in the sun? Maybe it's better to live through both than not to live. Maybe it's no better. But then it doesn't matter because I have already been given this chance, to live. I will not abandon it.

And though it's wearying and though every swing of the pendulum scars me more irreversibly, I can take that first step out into the grey morning, and proudly and simply say: this life is brilliant, and I will hold onto it as tightly as I can.

And I shall not regret what was never meant to be. I shall not long for what will never return.

The right way was never the way I expected it to be.

This is how it was always meant to be, from the very start.Not the shallow infatuation I thought it was meant to be till now. It's a deep and certain friendship, not unlike the one I share with my best friend--one that eventually grows to be more and become precious. It's time for me to wait, and take things slow. Build the friendship up from the bottom. Spend the time on it that I would have spent on my other friends'. I'm getting used to knowing that love is not about your heart thumping and his smile making you shiver. I'm getting used to knowing that love is need without glamour, not that titillating want. I'm getting used to the fact that I will no longer feel a thrill at the sight of his face, or that I will not shy away from him when he turns to me. It's like a stab from a cold knife, every time I remember the extraterrestrial joy of that period of time. But that is not love. And that is not the reason I longed for the relationship.