I am deathproof I am deathproof I am deathproof I am deathproof I am deathproof I am deathproof.
I am deathproof, and I don't want to hurt myself.
``larcenciel
Music: A Jagged Gorgeous Winter - The Main Drag Mood: Sad
3:40 PM
Not Every Prison Has An Open Door
I know I can stop this bad habit of mine; curb this insane frustration and control the rage. But that's as good as it gets. It starts and ends with knowing. I have serious anger management issues. There's just too much hate and rage inside that I don't know how to deal with, so I try to make myself forget about it by creating another kind of physical rage. Then I realise what I am doing to myself and it stings more than ever because now I have my consequences etched all over my body.
``larcenciel
Music: Panic Attack - Dream Theatre Mood: Broken
1:21 AM
Thursday, July 29, 2010
I Can Walk Forever In Our Garden
This is my tribute to their everlasting love and devotion, even if they are separated by life.
The nights are always the hardest to pass. As he lies awake alone in their – his, now – bed, his thoughts drifting, his senses become more alive than ever, picking up even the slightest smell or sound. Her warm powdery scent is still lingering gingerly next to him in her part of the bed. The little stool she used to sit in with the small sink in the middle shaped by her constant weight makes a shy shadow in the walls that he can’t miss. He can almost hear her familiar, fuzzy snore, rising up and falling just as quickly with every breath she took, with every beat of her heart. The very same heart that could not beat anymore. And his own aches with the cruel reminder that she was gone, that she had completely slipped from his grasp a full moon ago.
He blinks a soft, silver tear away. He is old too. He knows because the tear takes a few moments to roll past the uneven wrinkles and lines on his face before nestling in the cradle between his neck and collarbone. A sudden chill runs down his spine and he shivers. He lets out a low sigh. It’s funny how he could barely feel the wetness of his own tears, yet the bitter, icy feeling of loneliness was so intense.
The wind must be getting in, he tells himself. He rolls over on his side to the edge of the bed and lowers his feet to the ground. The balls of his wrinkled feet touch the tough, lacquered Oakwood bed frame and he pushes them back against the bed so that he might gain some force to sit up straight. He too, was getting weak. He needed to use his palms to push himself off the bed and as soon as he was midway up, he held on to the bookshelf in front to keep him from falling over. As he slowly gained his balance, he shuffles to the right to reach out to close the window he had left ajar.
The night air was still. The leaves on the trees outside his flat, asleep. There was a deafening silence. No howling of wind, no swaying of leaves in the breeze, nothing at all, and his window was never opened in the first place. That’s right, he knew it was never opened from the start. But he needed something – a wind, some rain or an excuse – anything, to convince himself that he was not really feeling the tedious, agonizing pain of losing her to some phantom disease. So he opens the window, and as he does he sees his reflection in the shiny glass pane. He can’t bear to look, because he can no longer see her next to him in any reflection and he hated that, he hated acknowledging that but most of all he hated himself for letting her – the beautiful, sweet, precious love of his life – suffer in the torturous tentacles of her dying disease, where he could only stand by helplessly and watch her cling onto slivers of machined life and fight her breaths away into a bitter nothingness.
He takes a deep breath. He has done too much remembering tonight. Remembering was never good for him. He turns around, slowly crouching over his side of the bed and hoisting himself on it. He has done this before many times, but each time seems more difficult than the last because she will not be there, lying on her side with her round tummy sticking out and her silver hair spread out on her pillow, right next to him at night anymore. And neither will she be with him in the day, when he is moping the kitchen floor or boiling water to make a nice hot tea in the afternoon or watching television sitting in his favourite armchair that’s just next to hers.
He closes his eyes. The nights are always hardest to pass. But they are also the only moments that reality would not be real, and he could dream her exquisite soul into life again. And in that world, they would be unbreakable. They would be smiling together, holding hands and walking in the gardens of love forever and ever and the nightmare of reality will never come. And come sunrise, the day will be the hardest to pass.
Music: Alsatia - Galneryus Mood: Sad
6:50 PM
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
A View Will Always Remain A View Outside My Window
I was clearing my Exchange folder in my email inbox and came across the emails I wrote to profs to request for academic references. I was asked to explain why I put Qu33n's as first choice, and what I had hoped to learn and achieve. That made me look through my exchange photos, and I felt nostalgia creeping up on me, then memories, then an empty feeling cascading through and the dismal realization that the hands of time never reverse.
Exchange is like a rollar-coaster. It's nerve-wrecking, gravity-defying, unexpected, yet so exhilarating, thrilling, beguiling and fulfilling at the same time. Whether you're up or down, upright or not, stationary or moving - it's an awesome ride. But it's a ride too fast. Too fast, because before I knew it, the ride ended, the snow melted, the memories passed and the view outside my window will always be just that.
``larcenciel
Music: Together Again - Mink Mood: Nostalgic
12:53 AM
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Two Can Keep A Secret, If One of Them is Dead
I applied for the 6-month internship at an FMCG and a sports apparel company. I hope I get it, especially the beverage one, because it's a huge, international firm, and if I get to intern there and do well, I have a shot at working there in the future. And if I work there long enough and by some stroke of luck, maybe I could be relocated to Melbourne.
I need to plan for things like these. The future seems so certain... yet so uncertain. I know where I want to be 5 years from now, I just don't really know how to get there as soon as possible, as smoothly as possible.
Sigh.
The things that life brings as you get older... It just gets harder and harder, less straight-forward and more worrisome, especially when reality sets in. But I've put everything off as much as I could and now, it's time to grow up. Final year, graduation, work and all the problems that come with it are just looming around the tiny corner.
``larcenciel
Music: Your Love is My Drug - Ke$ha Mood: Confused
1:30 AM
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
I Could Really Use A Wish Right Now
Can we pretend that airplanes In the night sky Are like shooting stars I could really use a wish right now, A wish right now.
``larcenciel
Music: Airplanes - B.o.B feat Hayley Williams Mood: Sad
1:22 AM
Monday, July 12, 2010
Thin, Thin Line
It's the 4th time I've flown to Melbourne and back to see my beloved. Looking back, each year was unique and special in its own way.
April 2007 - 10 days, first time seeing each other overseas, young, new to LDR, a ton of lovin' and waterworks June 2008 - 30 days, second time, longer time spent together, a taste of living together for real July 2009 - 11 days, the Perth detour, more mature, but still too fast June/July 2010 - 12 days in Melb, 12 days in Sydney, 20 days with her. First time on a plane together, first time on a real holiday together, with my family, and so much more love.
Come 2011, attending her graduation, with her family, and coming out? Maybe. We'll just have to see how it plays out.
I miss you already. Leaving is still so hard, huh? Sigh... But quoting ER, the bad news is, I'll never get used to it. The good news is, I'll never get used to it.