Tuesday, 28 February 2017
No wonder I felt so pained for so long.
It seemed to me that the knot I made would not break even if a knife were wedged between the interlinked hands. Then I pulled it apart, as though the seasons passed were only as precious so long as I let my reverie tell the truth. The strength of things, is only a reflection of how much our belief weighs. Once that belief returns to the clouds in the particles of rainwater, the fragility of our existence begins to unravel ever so cruelly.
Accept it, or not, that is up to you to decide.
A mere piece of rope around the ankle, who knew it was capable of suffocating its wearer? Harmless as it may seem, being tied up still makes us unable to move on. With the undoing of its body, I am saddened by the death of its significance. So long, keeper of hope, may you one day return to live alongside me as the bearer of strength, teacher of patience.
Put your thoughts to rest.
Let us cradle you.
Delicate soul wounded by the ways of the living, sleep a peaceful sleep untroubled by dreams, untouched by fear. As long as you are with us, breathe your every breath like your last and let go of your fists that protect nothing. We will fill the rivulets where your tears used to run with pearls born out of affection, to your loss.
Put your thoughts to rest.
Monday, 27 February 2017
I turned to face the curtainless windows again. The chariot of the Gods seem to have lost its way, as I lie here in bed awaiting its glorious arrival. Enveloped in a thick mist, the clouds are so tightly woven that not even the sky can be seen. Do I deserve not even the blessing of Apollo?
Sunday, 26 February 2017
The abject can only be repeated, never purged. It may come the next time in the form of a friend that whispers false hopes beside your ears, holding your hand, leading you down alleys of delicate lilac-coloured veins: do not be afraid, all your pity will be but a faint glimmer from yesterday's eclipsed Moon.
Drift off into the wind on a rotting plank with the appearance of fine furniture dipped in shellac, the surface of the still lake will carry you nowhere while you wake up the next day and find yourself in a place not quite similar, yet not quite different. The face of the Sun is encircled with numbers 1-12, and the number 3 seems to be bursting, the vultures overhead make a full circle thrice, before descending upon you in a rain of feathers soft. You never kept your eyes open for me-- blame the deformed clouds, gliding over your body blanketed by darkness.
At the edge of the well stands an animal with twisted horns that curl the way the hair of your lover curls, as if a demon, stones are hurled at its unfaltering body. Bleeding, it sings:
Saturday, 25 February 2017
HERE WE GO!
Friday, 24 February 2017
I open my eyes and I reach for it, lying on the floor, having been set aside last night. I flip, fine paper, neat type. Throughout the day, it intoxicates my senses. When I'm tired, I fall back asleep. The process repeats itself until eventually, the narration no longer continues, leaving only faint wishes lingering on the edge of the yellowed paper. The lives I have been following, like smoke dancing above the surface of the print, have coalesced into a fleeting mist of dreams. Once the cover is shut and it takes its proper place back on the shelf, all that becomes of their lives are memories long forgotten, never experienced.
Still, I refuse to plant my feet on the earth where I am unable to keep on dreaming.
Thursday, 23 February 2017
Now, who am I going to blabber my daily Hearthstone Adventures to? Nobody I know cares, nor can they show as much enthusiasm as you did, because of course, as lovers, each other's experiences are just as interesting as if we were experiencing them ourselves. The decks you created are still named after you and the moments I experience in game, the person who I want to share them most with, is you. Coldly, you told me "I'm not that person anymore!". Well, fuck. I thought we could at least still share interests while not being romantically involved. But I suppose after romance withers, a whole being dies, unlike the flowers that bloom time and again when the season is right. A relationship once lost, can it never be recovered? Is a tree not only cut, but completely uprooted? The exposed organisms squirm in the dark soil where Living Roots now dangle free in all their Wrath, who now
is to Nourish the Soul of the Forest? I suppose I am the Celestial Dreamer chasing the myth that you once were the being who carried my Mark of Nature.
This week's Tavern Brawl, I'm sure you know how it goes. After thinking of you excessively, the initial enthusiasm of relating the whole ordeal to you has died down, but I will do it nonetheless. I wanted to take a screenshot, but I thought that since we're not together anymore, I'd have nobody to send it to. Pics, or it didn't happen, right? Can't blame a heartbroken bitch for not taking pics. Anyway, towards the end of one of my games, I had 3 Y'Shaarj, Rage Unbound on the board. It summoned itself a few times in the game. Yay. Great. Clap. Clap. Clap.
Ever since you left, my skills have plummeted. Naturally, since my sensei has discarded this disciple. Do you know how hard I tried moving my noob ass up to Rank 18 just so I can get this season's card back!? And just when I needed 1 more win, I faced a GOLDEN Control Warrior! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!? WHY IS THAT BASTARD EVEN ON RANK 19!?
I admire how good you are at playing games, it really amazes me, your skill. Whenever I saw you hit Legend, I felt so proud... I wish I could see it again. I know the last time I spectated you, you played the 2 shittiest game I have ever witnessed, then you went offline. I wondered, was it because the thought of me made you restless? Perhaps your luck was really just shitty. Speaking of shitty luck, you know how shitty my card draw was when I was playing the Violet Teacher Druid deck? During the late game when I had 8-10 Mana, the only 2 cards I had in my hand were Innervate. Now, cry. Why is there even 2 Innervates in there? WAE!?
If you are reading this, I hope you enjoyed it. If not, I can always lie to myself and believe you are.
But I do enjoy doing the laundry.
I sit leaning against the cupboard, scooping piles of garments off of the faltered laundry basket, before fishing out from its depths the ones that have been suffocating for a period so long, I'm embarrassed to admit it. Ah, such is the amount of my dirty laundry. The pieces of rags that require the delicate treatment of royalty, the hand-wash clothing, they are the worst, but alas, the dearest. Most of the time, I ignore their plight and stuff them into laundry nets anyway. Folded neatly, of course. If they are twisted out of shape, both of us weep.
Sorting them out is a time I consider peaceful. The luxury of being able to bask in the comforts of knowing that you are wasting precious time on a responsible task only comes to those who forget to live. And so I hum and sing while I toss the cheap, durable ones aside-- these peasants do not need the protection of petty washing nets. I reminisce every piece as I categorise them. Where did I get this? Oh, such a steal! I wonder who owned this before I bought it, are they still alive? And this isn't even mine.
Softener leaves a bitter taste in my throat but I would rather not do the laundry if I had none! Once one discovers the difference softener makes in one's life, there is no going back to the primitive laundry days of washing without softener! It has also made me love my clothes more, if I didn't already love them enough before softener came into the picture. This body that is now used to only the softest, gets irritated by the coarseness of un-softened clothes.
It was relaxing, while it lasted, seeing the ones that can't be tumble dried flutter in the passing wind.
"und die Vögel singen nicht mehr..."
Wednesday, 22 February 2017
Tuesday, 21 February 2017
Then I stop, to think about myself. With the keys in my hand, the door is open to me any time, yet I choose never to walk so far as to come face to face with it. And so, I stay in this finite space which I'm sure experts would say is too narrow for the well-being of a human being, much like how a hamster's cage should at least measure 80CMx50CMx35CM for it to stay sane.
Ask me if it is comforting to stay isolated and I wouldn't give you a definite answer, because I don't know. Being inside the bubble that exists within my head is not enough anymore. I need to cut myself off, completely. Even hearing the escaped voices of my flatmates makes me want to cut my ears down. Seeing people squint under the Sun, friends sitting in the same circle reciting mindlessly the sounds that come out of the Part-timer's mouth, eating cold noodles at the same table while trying to make petty conversation that will not last-- how many of us are as lonely inside our hearts? I saw one of the faces carrying a plastic cup of instant noodles back to his room during lunch hour when everybody got busy assembling themselves into awkward pairings. Then after class on a Monday afternoon she said she'd be going to Mid Valley, alone, on a Tuesday where she doesn't have class. And me? I sent the lecturer an email saying I'm sick so I don't have to go outside, where even breathing hurts.
So I stay confined in my own space, in my own time, never even looking outside at the blue of the sky. I want to stay safe, in here.
The lifespan of a hamster is 2.5 years. I want to trade souls with Moonchild so that we both gain the freedom of the other.
A level has 3 stars that need to be unlocked. I like achieving those meaningless achievements so that my wall shines instead of greys with the many holes left by the empty molds of stars.
The whole game just doesn't feel perfect anymore if there is one, just one star I can't collect. I don't feel complete.
Where is the reset button? And my saved game files? A corrupted one here and there, let's clean them up completely and start the game anew. That way, I'll be more tactful, in the decisions I make and who I choose to save. If only I could bear to lose all this progress so far... Ach! Goodbye, memories. Let us revisit them with a purpose to succeed and live accordingly, not daringly.
Monday, 20 February 2017
Two hearts committed by promise
Bleed as one when struck
By the same sword glazed in poison.
Pain that is not forgotten
Is hurt that is not forgiven.
One cries "I have been suffering!"
The other replies "So have I!"
But in the pride of the non-virtuous
Understanding cannot flourish
And enlighten the shades of desolation.
"I have been suffering!"
"So have I!"
Neither are heard
Through the tear of hearts
Every night, I lie in the dark with a heart full of regret. I think of the instances I pushed you away when you longed for my appreciation, failing to see my insecurities. And I hear you crying, what you said to me, echoing in the air, inside my heart. You have been suffering as if I had not been. The pain I caused you, is the pain I cannot live with. So it's not fair for you to pretend as if you're the only victim that suffered throughout our time together. It is the both of us who cannot let go of the hurt I've caused, not just you. Maybe, when you understand this, you'll start to forgive me.
Sunday, 19 February 2017
Huete ich hatte ins Kino mit meine Tante gehen. Wir einen Film gesehen. Der Film heißt "A Dog's Purpose" und es war sehr schön! Ich weitete und lachte viel. Die Hunden sind nett...
Ach! Sorry for the bad German. Guess I need to put more effort in learning my core language. Sigh. I can't feel German in my soul and I somehow don't want to. Suppose my heart isn't big enough to wholeheartedly accept two different languages and cultures simultaneously. In the first place, I really wanted to learn Korean so I can get myself an Oppa and continue my sentences after I utter "Aigoo", "Aiish" or "Jinjaa". Cheonsu-Oppa, wait for me, I'm single now! Next time when you're at the World Championships, Rachel will cheer for you "Kim Cheonsu! Kim Cheonsu! Kim Cheonsu!"
I took German in preparation for my future in Europe, which now, has been shredded, burnt and shoved up my own ass. If my Zukünftiger Ehemann is a Dutch national whose job and language capabilities would not allow him international mobility, then I thought I'd settle down with him there instead, learning all these languages I can't pronounce properly in hopes I'd get a great job and live happily drinking Albert Heijn's Basic Red Fruitjuice and eating Basic Pindakaas every damn morning. Of course, plans never work out, which is why I never bother planning.
Anyway, I do not regret taking German, or preparing for a future there. Why? Because Ich liebe Würste und Kartoffeln. Omnomnomnom. Besides... Ehe. They say German poetry is beautiful.
Now that I'm probably going to stay single until I'm 30 and sagging, my focus is more self-centred, career wise. Japan, here I come! Do you think I'll end up like Wong-sensei? 50+, single, travelling and happier than a committed woman? Maybe.
Love is a feeling, it's all it is. I'm not going to disagree with my uncle on that one now that I'm back to being a cold-hearted bitch. I still cry when I watch movies, but that's about it. We come out of every relationship stronger than before. POWER OVERWHELMING! It's going to destroy me at the end of my run, but at least I'll have made an impact. Sigh, my next man to needs to understand all these useless Hearthstone references. Bro, you've set the bar too high :')
I still miss him, obviously, but I feel the warmth back in my soul. The smell of dogs, funny enough, cures emptiness.
I hope he's happy as well.
Friday, 17 February 2017
Down the slope and into the tunnel:
"Ahhh! I love tunnels!"
"No way, me too!"
"Seriously? I thought I was the only one."
And we discovered what else we have in common even after a decade.
"Whenever I enter a tunnel, I feel as if I'm being transported to another world."
"It's magical, isn't it?"
And we nod.
"My friends think I'm weird for being obsessed with tunnels."
"It's OK, we're here for you."
And the excitement continues.
"Especially if the lights are orange."
And through the tunnel we go, in awe.
"My favourite tunnel is the SMART Tunnel. It's soooooooooo long, I absolutely love going through it. Even if there is no need, I still go through it. I just have to."
"I've only used it once... Twice, maybe?"
"That's why we're friends."
And we laugh.
Then we come back to reality, leaving the ochre glow of the tunnel in the rearview mirror.
Were there lights on the night the last teardrop crystallised at nine? How then did you find the doorway into a room heavy with the dark when your Mother calls out to you by subtle reflections blanketing the night? Ah, perhaps you are the daughter with compassion to spare or could it be that you were guided here by the whispers of blind faith? I wouldn't know, but I thank you.
Through your silent companionship, I can only guess the meaning behind your visit. Is it comfort, hope or caution? A glimpse into the near future, an initial playout of what is to come? By the time reality catches up to our encounter, our roles would have been switched and I would be the one released into the light, the door shutting behind me. For you, your duty ends the moment your delicate feet meet the balcony floor. For me, my duty would have only just begun.
And so I sit contemplating your visitation, laughing at the fact that something hollow could weigh as much as the universe.
Thursday, 16 February 2017
When one is overwhelmed by one's Gefühle only the worst comes to mind. If you're already a dark soul that is guided by negativity in the first place, then very likely, when left to your own devices you'll choke the only hope left that will lead you to Paradise.
Instead of grieving over a love I'm not sure is lost as if it is deceased, I should be looking forward to our own individual futures. He'll be a changed man, and I'll be a changed woman-- could there be no hope then? It could be months, it could be more, but since I'm not going anywhere anyway, couldn't I just endure this separation with a smile and the strength I don't have? Of course. I have nothing to lose. I will wait, patiently. Gather courage and shed away the scales of my anger that hurt him in the past to become someone worthy of his gentle heart. It's a campaign, til the death of my undying love.
Stay positive, stay positive, stay positive!
I will show him that he is worth suffering for. As long as the faintest glimmer of hope reflects the last words I am left with, I will hold on to it. A love like that, is not easily forgotten.
One drifts in the wind
The other crosses the reaped plains
like raging winds of a storm
confused and satisfied.
Let us begin with the guide that will pad your next heartbreak:
1. Find a guy who is ugly
If he is ugly, you won't be missing him when he says it's over. You won't be thinking of his face because it is repulsive in the first place. In fact, if you date somebody hideous, you'd be glad the relationship ended.
Unlike me at the moment, I want to gouge my eyes out because he is so handsome. I can't stand the thought of his wide smile and perfectly straight teeth, that chiseled jawline, balanced double-lids and deep pools of innocence. Hey, it is not as if I am looking at his pictures! NOT AT ALL! I just cannot forget his beautiful face! It is one that has made me smile whenever I look at it for the past 4 years so it is undoubtedly ingrained in my mind's eyes, unfortunate as I am. What I am afraid of is that it will always make me smile, even when it is not supposed to anymore.
Why do I need to gouge my eyes out? So I can't see him become more handsome and smile for someone else. The thought of that sends me punching my chest. I think I might cough up some blood if I keep this up.
2. Find a guy who you can stalk after the breakup
The most unbearable post-breakup feeling is being left in the dark of how the other is doing. One does not simply throw away the habit of caring for the other just because they have stopped being romantically involved. Hearing no news at all, it's almost as if they ceased to exist the moment they initiate the break up, as if they really died. They're not dead, so why should they act like they are? You can know nothing about them even though they're still living, breathing and having sex.
If that guy has a Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, or even better, a blog, you can rest assure that you'll know how he's doing indirectly. Seeing pictures, status updates and blog posts will enlighten you and maybe even help you sort your own feelings out. Or else, you'll be like me, left with no traces whatsoever but the last seen on his WhatsApp and how many hours ago he last logged onto Battle.net. Pathetic, right? And here I am giving him all this shit to work with, which I'm not even sure he's paying attention to.
All in all, make sure he's a target that can be stalked.
3. Find a guy who is honest with you from the start about how he feels
This one is pretty much understood, isn't it? Even so, one can never be too sure about how a man feels. That is why it is important to establish that in the beginning. It won't work if you are the only one in love, woman!
I caution you if he is a delicate creature. They, the ones who can seemingly do no wrong are the ones who can hurt you the most. It is because your overzealous proclamations will stifle the doubt in their hearts in the beginning. Only stifle, never eradicating-- remember that. They will tell you they will try loving you and might even say that they love you, which maybe they do, but there comes a certain point where the stifled doubts will resurface. Then, it'll just go downhill all the way. Have you tried restoring a mountain after a landslide? With a scoop of dirt each day that will fall back down the very next, it will be a lost cause. Sticking a flower on top of the toppled mountain won't do you any good. Even if you try replacing the dirt with chocolate and spritz Versace all over it, you can't save it.
Suppose the lesson to be had here is to wait for the man to make the first move, or else he'll tell you after 4 years that he thinks he was forcing himself to love you when he knew it would never work out. Couldn't he have said that he loved me like a sister from the start!?
4. Find a guy who doesn't make you think that he is perfect from the start
Perfection exists not in this realm but when one is blinded by emotions and gleeful feelings, one believes in anything! Therefore, if your only thought is "he is perfect, I must have him" upon seeing him, know that it is going to be a doomed relationship. What sustains a relationship isn't perfection but the flaws we find lovable in each other. Sometimes, it's just too bad that your flaws aren't as appealing to him as his are to you.
5. Find a guy who is good at expressing himself
Good fucking luck with this one. If he isn't an published author, then he's not a man that can articulate his feelings and get them across to you. That is why I suggest dating women because we'd understand each other's emotional needs better.
I guess it can't be helped that the next ordinary male that happens across your path is one that lacks the ability to communicate the intangible tickles that come from his heart we call feelings. Patience is very much needed when dealing with the male species for even though we are biologically similar, it's no different than interacting with an unknown species. The movie Arrival shows you the necessary steps to facilitate effective communication: learn each other's language through different means and connect on a level beyond what you thought possible. But of course, once you break up, communication is no longer necessary. LOL.
That is all.
You think I'll follow my own advice? Haa... Jay Chou:
There'll always be regrets until you move on. It's just how the world works.
Wednesday, 15 February 2017
On the day you left this place
The day I finally lost you
The fate in my heart that can never be filled
Translation is as complicated as wording one's feelings. There are no words capable for accurate representation. Frustrations, hate, confusion and unwanted love, they are all fighting to win the crown of my disposition.
Monday, 13 February 2017
Letting go of what was, there is no need for I treasure the times and look upon them fondly. Letting go of you as a person, a lover, somebody I could call mine-- this will be the toughest ordeal. I accept that we have returned to nothing the moment the warmth of your lips grew cold on my forehead. But I still cannot accept that it is you whom I have lost.
There is no bitterness. There is little pain, although it hurts. I want not the romantic love we once had, only honest reconcilation and loyal camaraderie: you, as a friend, who would still understand the dull humour of mine.
Of course, to you, letting go of your first love means that we can no longer talk. At least not for the time being. I dare not ask how you fare, and I dare not confront you because in a way, you are hurting more than I am. One day, when you're ready, I will ask you. And I hope that we can laugh about it over tea at the dinner table, on chairs with wheels.
Maybe you're not hurting as well. Spending your time happier than I am even. Then I wonder, why haven't you contacted me? I'd like to think that you're on the beautiful path of self-discovery admist a flowering field, dusting off the remains of your fall.
When we first met, you would talk to me everyday. You did not love me then but you talked to me everyday nonetheless. Can we have those days back again? Maybe it's too much to ask for. Sacrificing such a friendship because one cannot see past the pain inflected by inexperienced romance.
Now, I think I am ready to let you go when I see you blossom, basking in the light of early summer with your wide smile as the wind ride alongside you. My wishes then shall rise up to the sky as the woods bellow cries of enlightened heartache and cast their blessing of leaves over you.