Excitement Turned Depressed

When I first heard the news that we were invited to Music of Harry Potter presented by MPO, my heart raced and every thought of the coming exam vanished from my head. I thought of you, of course. I remember you told me that you'd be watching it... I just forgot when.

For the last 30 minutes, I was excited. I saw the light shine through the thick clouds that have shrouded my world ever since you went away and  I ran towards it, hoping that I'd make it to tomorrow where I could see a new-born butterfly crawling out of it's cocoon. I thought I would be able to break the spell of darkness that has been cast upon my world... I was wrong.

I thought that the universe was on my side for once. I thought that the stars have arranged yet another meeting for us, letting me see you one last time before I move on... Didn't I challenged myself though? That I'd behave for the next 365 days? After all, patience is not about how long one can wait, but how well one behaves while waiting. I have no problem waiting, I just don't behave well when my goal is within my grasp but I can't claim it yet.

I ran upstairs so I could contact you. I wanted to ask you out on a date. That's all I wanted to do when I texted you.

Like before, you were everything I could think of when I get the chance to go to the big city. Shopping malls, dirty sidewalks, suffocating city air and the sweaty crowd, I didn't mind because you were there to guide me through the concrete jungle. Each turn, through narrow sidewalks and rusted stairs, you held my hand.

On the 11th I would go, on the 12th is your show... Alas, fate has decided that we should forever be apart. We were never meant to be together, not then, not now, not ever... You have always viewed me as someone who is not your equal. What more can be said?

During the fifteen minutes that took to come home, I couldn't stop thinking about how happy I'd be. The thought that followed was whether or not you'd be happy, so I stopped smiling and thought about how you burned everything we had to the ground with just three words...

Everything in this world is so fragile... or rather, even the things that look the strongest get torn away by harshness. Here's another haiku I thought of on the verge of tears:

Like a tsunami,

you washed away all I had,

swiftly, suddenly. 

Conversations

For hours, her heart has been aching, tightening her chest. Why did she have to stumble across that picture? If only her hands had listened to her, she wouldn't be crying while singing When I Was Your Man. It was a picture of him and a girl he had a crush on a few months ago.

Her hands were itchy as usual, typing his name in her friend's list, clicking on his profile. What is he up to these days, she wondered. Time passes ever so quickly. It has been a month since he cut the bond between them. Still, her heart aches, her tears fall.

The green dot appears beside his profile picture, letting her know that he's online. That bright green dot caught her attention the moment it flashed-- who wouldn't notice such a eye-catching colour? She continues to scroll down her newsfeed, hoping the green dot would disappear.

But it didn't.

Minutes passed, it was still there.

She told herself that she must not approach him. The urge to talk to him was strong because she was hurting inside. Though she knows that he is the root of all her pain, it is also clear to her that nobody can fill the hole in her heart except for him. There is a Chinese proverb that goes 心病终须心药治，解铃还是系铃人(the problems of the heart in the end, needs to be healed with medicine for the heart, the person to untie the bell need be the person who tied it)

For that seven minutes of heaven, she's willing to hurt for seven days yet again.

[Hey, how are you?]

[Good... How are you?]

[Why do you ask...]

[You're jealous about something... Your status update...]

[Oh, it's nothing...]

[Is it... You think that I have something going on with her?]

[...]

[You rarely tell me what you think these days... I don't deserve to know anyway...]

[... Are you busy?]

[No. But I'm going to bed soon]

[!?]

[That's early]

[...Do you have someone else...?]

[No! No!]

[Oh really... I wouldn't know since we're so far apart!]
10PM

***

This is the reality on the guy's side.

He looked at the time on his laptop, 10pm. Time to ring his girlfriend! Looking at the conversation he's having with his ex sends a tinge of guilt deep down his heart, where the memories of their days together are locked away. He's lying to her now.

"Hey... Did you wait for my call?"

"Mm... You're on time..."

***

A few minutes have passed and she's still waiting for his reply.

[Having a hard time coming up with excuses huh?]

[If you consider an exam as an excuse for going to bed early...]

[Oh, I didn't know...]

[You don't bother asking, so I don't tell... You never ask much, even back then...]

[Yeah. I suppose. But when I do, I don't get answers.]

[Not the answers you want to hear anyway...]

[...]

[I guess this is goodnight then...]

[... Goodnight...]

She wanted to tell him how much she missed him. That was all she wanted to say to him when she first clicked on his profile. She knew she couldn't tell him that, not anymore... He won't accept it, and it'll just end up making things awkward between the both of them.

I miss you...

In her head, possibilities about what's going on his side played. Ten o'clock. Such a great time to leave. Back then, he would call her at this hour and talk to her, make her smile, make her feel loved. For all she knows, he could be on the phone with someone else, having phone-sex with his new partner.

Shaking her head, she smiled to herself, reassured herself with a lie she wants to believe in, something he said to her when he left: I just don't want to be in a relationship right now, I'm in love with my work.

She clicked on his profile picture so she could see his face clearly. So long since she last saw him... Over a year; probably. She wonders when he'll return because she really misses him lots. She yearns for his touch, and the smile she has grown fond of.

A smile slowly formed on her sad face.

***

"Kisses?"

"Sure, wherever you want to, hon. Hehe..."

"Such a cheeky girl I have here!"

***

It will all be okay, she tells herself.

Iron Man Three

FINALLY! I've watched it T^T

I never knew the small town I lived in had such a huge population until Iron Man Three hit the cinemas. Seriously, for three days now, every show has been full. Lucky for me, I go to the movies alone, so there's always at least two or three empty seats available for the forever-aloner. The reason I didn't get to watch it yesterday was because I actually invited friends... It is destined that I am forever alone.

This year, the movies come out better than their trailers. I miss this feeling. For the past few years, movie trailers have embarrassed their full movies, so it's nice to finally see things turned around!

Well, where do I begin?

At first, I thought that the movie would be a rather sad one since I saw everything get blown-up in the trailer! The sad music, how Tony says he can't sleep at night and the attack on his home in Malibu. What was I expecting? This is a Marvel story, and I don't think they're ever going to make a cry-til-you-can't-see flick. But I must admit, the part where Tony asked JARVIS to destroy all the suits was a bit heart aching.

... Fuck, I missed the post-credit scene! Which means that I will return to the cinema next week, spend another RM14 on a ticket just so I can watch the last few seconds at the end. Going through my mind right now is a collection of profanities in a number of different languages. It would be rude to type them all out.

Call me crazy, but hey, I found another excuse to run away from next Saturday evening.

Guys, if you were Tony Stark, would you destroy all your suits just so you could devote yourself to the love of your life? I know a person who wouldn't, so yeah...

I won't start analyzing the personalities of the characters here because that would just make this post really long and boring. I can see that Mr.Stark isn't a hoarder. That's all I'm going to say. If I still had my boyfriend,  I'd be telling him about it... Sigh...

What triggered the more interesting chain of events in this movie was kind of pathetic, really. Tony's rather cocky message to the Mandarin didn't even sound as if he meant it. I guess Robert Downey Jr. slacked off a bit there! Who am I to complain anyway? If someone called me a coward and gave me their address, I would actually blow their house up if I had the resources.

I hope I get a better seat next week. I have a mini-headache at the moment since I watched the movie wearing contacts and I sat next to the walls, which means I had to tilt my head a little to be able to look at the screen. If I had watched it staring straight, I'd be looking at the exit instead.

Pepper... You like her, don't you? I remember you told me that you did.

No time for being emo. I'm going to McDonald's to get my limited edition Hello Kitty!

Evening Post

It's me again!

Sigh...

I'm not exactly in the jolliest mood at the moment since Iron Man 3 tickets are sold out. Be it 8pm or 9.30pm, they're all out. Be it 2D or 3D, full house for both.

You know what sucks more than not being able to watch this summer's blockbuster? The fact that you won't call tonight.

Saturday nights...

Ever snice that day, I've been trying to find countless excuses to go out on Saturday nights. For a short period of time, making merry with my friends numbs my heart. You won't be calling anymore and I don't want to lie in bed crying, expecting the phone to ring.

Last Saturday... What did I do? I forgot. You called, I still cried. Yes, I remember now. Last Saturday, I blogged.<

Since I'm writing now, I can't possibly post something up here in the next two hours! It'd be so boring for people to keep seeing my updates!

Anyway, I'm on Rei again, and I have a feeling that it will screw up my post again, just like it did last night! Everything was all jumbled into one paragraph. Such an eyesore. I had to edit the post on my laptop when I woke up this morning! Now, thanks to Quah, I have to delete html codes that are showing in my current post.

To end this evening's post, I'll write a haiku about my sisther(sister+brother)

Annoying as hell,
Johnson Quah; ugly duckling.
Short, ugly and dark.

Mistakes, I'm Sleepy!

***So many mistakes in this post! Already had 7 readers before I had the chance to edit T^T



Mistakes. Mistakes everywhere! Next thing I know, a person will leave a comment correcting my mistake.

 I don't know what's gotten into me. Recently, I keep making simple grammatical mistakes that annoys the hell out of grammar-Nazis. For instance, I accidentally write 'to' instead of 'too' and "you're" instead of "your"

My Facebook statuses always get corrected by the one person I'm most sensitive to. I think I might have to block that person! Breaking up and attacking me every chance he gets? Come on! Give me a fucking break here! Being friends is already a hard enough thing. I feel like I'm keeping my dead dog, forever thinking about it even though I know it is never coming back. Then once in a while, the dead dog would come back to taunt me.

 Speaking of mistakes, please forgive the ones that are in this post. I'm blogging from my Rei, so it's a bit hard to check everything on this tiny thing!

 Few days ago, out of loneliness, I read my old posts. I used most of my afternoon-nappy time too! Which resulted in a headache during band practice. I want to thank whoever reads my post and occasionally tick [interesting] or [stupid]  after finishing each post. Frankly, my posts only get 2 viewers... So yeah... Thanks for the support T^T

 I'm actually in the middle of reading the May issue of Reader's Digest. According to Ladybird Tan, it's something old people read. Well... I must admit, the part I look forward to is the jokes section. Occasionally, I find the news in there interesting. Oh, I love how it feeds my brain information which I don't really need to know! 

 Did you know that doors are the reason why we forget things whenever we enter another room? Psychologists at the University of Notre Dame, US, have discovered that passing through a doorway triggers what's known as an "event boundary" in the mind, separating one set of thoughts and memories from the next. Your brain files away the thoughts you had in the previous room and prepares a blank plate for the new locale.

 See? Stuff that doesn't concern next week's mid-year exams! I'm screwed yet again. 

 The reason why I'm here past midnight is because I feel hurt again. Anyway, my eyes are tired. Thanks to two and half hours of watching Django Unchained with the lights off on the 55-inch tv. The movie met my expectations. It'd be perfect if I had watched it in the cinema when it first hit the silver screen. Oh wait, the damned cinema here didn't bother screening it! 

 Hopefully, I'll be able to watch Iron Man 3 tomorrow. 


Goodnight. 

 Love and kisses, RACHEL

Losing my Rose-Coloured Glasses

I don't know what to do anymore these days.

There isn't enough material to write a blog post, nor can I pull myself together to write something else other than my heartbreak. Study? Oh no, I don't want to because... I just don't want to.

All that I can do these days is cry.

For months I've been doing so. When I still had you, I cried. When I lost you, I cried. I've always wondered why babies cry, but now, I finally got my answer. I feel like I've just stepped into a new world, where everything is unknown to me. I'm lost. I don't know where to go and I can't find my guide; no one's holding my hand anymore. I cry. I cry in hopes that maybe you'll come back and carry me home... No, the tears that stream down my face are the lies that I once comfort myself with.

"It's never too late to make it right..."

WRONG.

It's too late for us.

I'm on a treadmill, unwilling to move forward and afraid of looking at the past. Still stuck at the time when we called it love, I avoid what has become my reality and build up false hopes that I will get you back again. That is why I cry. I know I will never get you back. I want to get you back.

Whenever I approach you now, it hurts. It feels absurd even. I don't know what's real and what's not anymore. You've become something that floats on the border of my sanity. You have died, yet I keep on looking for you, talking to you! This guilty pleasure of mine collapses on me a thousand folds, making me suffer and weep in your absence.

Where has that confidence of mine gone?

Weeks ago, words written boldly in green "I'm going to get you back" were written  by the same hand that is writing this blog post now.

I've lost my motivation.
I've lost my inspiration.

The only thing that's left is my imagination.


I regret nothing as I gave with love and trusted you then. I cry because I've lost my rose-coloured glasses and the feeling of assurance, not because of what you've done. I realise now that everything WAS beautiful. The afternoon sun, the buzzing of the fan, the old sofa set outside, the chirping of birds on the palm trees and the afternoon naps before practices... What was weather when I had you? What was time when you were by my side? What was anything at all when you were mine...

I'm not afraid of separation.
I'm just afraid of you ending up with someone else.

Days have gone by,
weeks have passed,
but my tears have yet to dry and you are still the reason why.

Thoughts in an Empty Shell

Thoughts in an Empty Shell 

Few days have gone,

much have changed,

yet once you have gone,

the house is empty again.

Now, 

you make me wonder who I am.

More heartbroken than I should have felt, 

more lonely than I thought I would be.

Cruel are the Gods.

I had lost everything I knew, 

then They sent you,

only to take you away so I'd fall yet again. 

Now,

I ask myself who I am.

Loner that feels no love?

One too broken and afraid to yearn for companionship.

Alone again,

not much have changed,

you are gone,

I am empty again. 

Now,

the night is quiet and still,

you are not here to call my name or lean or me...

Farewell, cousins! 

Afternoon Under The Same Roof

Shaking her head, she went up the stairs with a ladder in hand.

Why can't they help me out, not even one bit? Her complaint echoed, bounced from the empty ceilings to the  dining hall where a young person sat. A piece of cake in one hand, a cup of tea in another.

She's finally upstairs.

Tired, she put her ladder down. She isn't very young anymore.

Step by step, she climbed the ladder. Afraid of falling, feeling nauseated because of how high it seemed, though she was only on the third step. Her target still appears to be so far away, beyond her limit-- she isn't very tall either.

Her hands finally touched the air conditioner. Just a little bit more, and she could reach the cover, pop it open and take the filters out. It has been a while since she cleaned them. Even the air conditioner has started to water.

Downstairs, the young person continues to nibble on the piece of pastry, sipping a cup of tea from time to time.

It happened so suddenly. The woman that was reaching for the plastic cover is now lying on the floor, paralyzed.

In the dining hall, the young person takes another bite of the dessert, sipping the tea ever so calmly.

Unable to move, the woman gathers whatever energy she has left in that broken body of hers and let out a cry of pain and agony, pleading for someone to come to her aid.

At the dining table, the young person swallows, washing away the sugar with the tea, oblivious about what's happening right above.

The young person stands up.

The woman is out of breath.


***

Back to Forever Alone-ing

People rarely update their blogs these days! Back then when I first joined Blogger, there were more posts on my reading lists than I could bear! Now, even I rarely come on this site. When I do, it's because I'm bored and don't want to sleep yet.

I find that this little thing we've created for ourselves, a personal online space that takes whatever we give it, have become the companion for the modern Forever Aloners with too much on their chest and too little to share with--unless you're the type of hardcore blogger that blogs about everything from politics to personal life to health and beauty.

On my reading list today, Yuri-Ichigo has updated the blog I thought to be dead! Sono Hanabira Kuchizuke-o, how I miss the series! I hope they complete the English patches for the latest visual novel soon! The characters in the latest series look so sweet~ drools~ HAHAHA!

I actually just deleted a whole paragraph because I thought it was inappropriate =/

What brings me here today?

Ah, someone reminded me of my blog.

I missed the days where I'd do this every single night. Now that I'm here again, I feel like a hikikomori again. After all, the reason I retreated here to this ever so welcoming blog of mine is because I have lost the person I shared my life with. So yeah, since my journal is only written during the day, I figured that blogging could fill  my night, take the place of the calls I'd receive back then.

Chinese pop songs all sound so miserable. Fits the mood though.

It may not seem like I'm deeply sad today because I've become mad. A screw or two have gone loose in this head of mine. Yay. Studies show that the funniest people are often the most depressed, so you shouldn't really be surprised by my cheerfulness. I've become so broken that all there's left to do is to laugh. HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

I scare myself sometimes.

Mm...

好不容易又能再多爱一天，但故事的最后你好像还是说了拜拜。

You know I'm emo when I start quoting lyrics from Jay Chou's songs. The above line was from Fine Day, 晴天. It fits my situation perfectly, so there's no need to come up with another phrase.

I don't know what I'm doing these days.

Macadamia, feeding time!

A Porridge Life

Plain. Staring directly at me is a bowl of white, watery rice. Porridge.

Life's like the bowl of porridge in front of me now. It isn't even hot. The more I taste it, the plainer it is. Then once in a while, I'd scoop up bits and pieces of scallops.

My days have become blur and meaningless. The scattered pieces of scallops are like invaluable memories that cross my mind without my permission. Sudden. Unpredictable.

I take a gulp of sickly sweet honey. It makes the porridge saltier. I could feel again, for that brief moment.

Honey is like a drug. It promises so much, but there's a catch. The dream it gives only lasts a second and before you know it, you'll find yourself in the place you were before: sitting down on a chair you've owned for 17 years, under a light barely bright enough to show you the room and a fan that's creaking, as if it's mocking what you've become.

The more I drink the saturated cup of honey, the worst I felt. The sweetness lingers on the tip of tongue but as it went deeper, the more bitter it became. Now, the sweetness is no more, the bitterness is gone, what's left is the sourness of reality.

The bowl is empty.
The cup is empty.

The ceiling fan continues to creak. The light flickers a bit.

I looked in the mirror.

A round table with six chairs. On one of them sat a girl in blue, who just had porridge filled in a blue bowl, honey filled in a blue plastic cup. How come everything is so blue? Coincidence? No. There is no such thing as coincidence; only the inevitable.

I stared.

The same blue shirt I wore when I first told you I love you.

The same blue shirt I wore when I thought my heart belonged to someone else.

The same blue shirt that made me realised I only had one heart. One which never left your side.

***

One more night...