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Friday, December 21, 2012
It's breaking me inside, but I said I would, so I'm still trying. Pardon the feelings that wouldn't go away no matter how hard I try. At some level I think it's still too early, and I'm not ready for it, I can't let go. But you're right. Why bother?
It's good that you've stopped waiting for me. Now it's just time to see if I could stop waiting for myself soon.
Monday, September 10, 2012
And after 257 posts over a total of four years, I've decided to close this channel and move on to a simpler platform on tumblr. Yes, four years, all of which amounted to an archive bursting with dark emo-fests, forgotten childhoods, joys and pains and dreams and sorrow. It's not easy to leave this familiar blogskin and warm up quickly to the new plain, emotionless white theme, but I can't stay in one place forever, and it's about time to close one window and open another.
From now on, all new posts will be made here: http://www.the-interim.tumblr.com
But of course, I will never forget this blog; if I ever feel the need to run back into the comforts of this sanctuary I've built for myself over the past four years, and perhaps cry a little more, love a little less, and be a little more alone, I will.
Until then, this world is behind me.
***
~~~*Left with the Winds at 10.24pm*~~~
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Sometimes it takes just a little reflection to scour the gritty surface of life and gaze into the barren visage that lies underneath, and we would come to the realisation, even if just for a short moment, that the weaknesses and needs we believe so strongly to be our own plague many others equally in unseen hours. The hidden tears, the concealed troubles, the carefully contained emotions sealed in a vessel packed too tightly with other vessels to make a sound; all these mixed signals swirling in a soup of madness that drifts from person to person, cushioning cold shoulders, obscuring hostile glares, lubricating the trillions and trillions of little cogs in a gargantuan social machine that will never stop working itself to the end of infinity. That is not to say, of course, that no good comes from this insulation. It saves. It saves us by alleviating the most corrosive effects of strife, but not without exacting a payment of sorts.
And we've paid for it, generations after generations, by being lonely.
Everyone needs something deep down inside, and our knowledge of this need is innate. A gaping abyss mars the landscape within each and every one of us, forming schisms within ourselves, sowing into the darkness seeds of contention that would slowly feed upon our confusion and grow into full-fledged internal wars...and all this we would have to deal with on our own in a battle with the self where we can only hope to emerge victorious. Everybody needs, everybody is weak, everybody can never be strong enough. There is no way to measure the degree to which a person needs something, or justify the importance of his hopes and dreams in relation to another's, and at the end of the day we're all just humans. Jealous, contriving, miserable humans, creatures who have sufficient intelligence to populate the upper end of the spectrum, but too much unbounded imagination to be sated by the definite or appeased by the incorporeal. Who doesn't need? Who doesn't desire?
Who doesn't hope?
Who doesn't hate?
Life is both a feast of the greatest proportions and the deadliest poison at the same time, and amidst unexpected joys and curtailed revelries, luck toys with our bewilderment as if we have an infinite capacity for ignorance and misunderstanding. My duty as a fellow human being is to empathise to the best of my ability and deliver as much help as possible, but there is nothing I can do beyond that. Just like you, I need, I want, I hope, and just like you, I've concealed, acted, suffered and had my fair share of despair. I will not hate you for what you've done, but I will not hate myself either for not being nearly as noble and selfless as everyone expects, to some tiny, selfish degree, everyone else to be. It's the way the world goes, round and round and round, and we're just little beings trapped in the momentum, equally helpless in our attempts to free ourselves from the unfathomable, maddening vertigo.
I've realised, and maybe you should too, that there is nothing to blame. There's nothing to forgive, either.
It's just the way it is.
***
~~~*Left with the Winds at 10.05pm*~~~
Saturday, September 8, 2012
I think I've broken my record for the number of hours slept in one go, and even while I'm typing here I still can't believe myself, not to mention I'm incredibly pissed. I was so tired yesterday evening that I nearly fell asleep on the MRT standing and almost missed my stop, and then by the time I got home after math tuition I was feeling all dizzy so I took a nap at around 7.35pm. I set my alarm clock to 8.30pm at the LOUDEST BUZZER VOLUME, thinking that my parents would wake me up at 8.30 in time for dinner.
But no. I slept all the way, think they tried to wake me up at around 9, but somehow that didn't work, and the second time my dad came in was at 12.16am and he was asking if I wanted to wake up for dinner, but I remember being extremely confused with the time and mumbling incoherently and going all like "nevermind". I think at some point in time I expressed some sort of determination to wake up at 4am today to catch up on the 4 hours wasted sleeping (from 7.30 to 12.30, at the very least), so he helped me set the alarm clock. And then I fell right back into a deep, undisturbed sleep with a very vivid dream about 911, a crashing elevator, a dark forest, school, chinese lessons and maplestory.
And then the next time I woke up, it was 6.45am and my alarm clock (set at 5am) was beneath my back, and I'm not even going to ask how the hell it got there. I was utterly nonplussed. I've never had such a screwed up sense of time before and I'm still pretty amazed.
I don't know, I'm probably going to sleep at 4am today or something, so that I can do the work I had planned to do yesterday night but miraculously left behind because I completely lost myself in lala land. Oh, fuck my stupid stupid self.
***
~~~*Left with the Winds at 7.05am*~~~
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
And I'm really only being far too idealistic. Often a time I would think I had made some progress and bettered myself, that over the years, the intoxicating effects of the dreams that used to have such a strong hold on me have been negated by wave after wave of reality, and for a short while I would feel mildly sure of my place in this world...until times like this, when I would awake abruptly amidst all the buzzing humdrum, only to realise that what remains of my idealism is just so deeply insidious that I'm completely unaware of it. What he said yesterday was absolutely spot-on. It hit the pin, drove it right into my head, and for a good hour or so I couldn't stop hearing those words in my head like some sort of gyrating bird, reminding, reminding, reminding.
It was also the first thing I heard when I woke up today to a cold and grey morning, an empty house and scratchy bedsheets. I knew that there was every ounce of truth in those words, but my mind conjured every piece of illusion it could scrape off the inner walls of my head in a desperate attempt to block out the incessant ringing, and I sat in bed for a full ten minutes, gazing at the four walls around me, realising that I had never put back the artworks I had torn off last time, and feeling exactly as if I was back to the days in sec one. It was a painless but equally horrible realisation. I decided not to go to school.
It took me a while to realise it myself, but he really was right about my desire for a level of intimacy that is indubitably unattainable. For so many years I've survived largely upon imaginary friendships and socialized excessively within the confines of my own head, readily substituting human companionship with interactions that are mere delusions and yet so beautifully promising that I was hopelessly drawn to them, that all this probably amounted to a deep conviction, a sort of desperate yet concrete hope, that such levels of understanding and intimacy can be achieved with a separate physical presence as well. Just like what he said...at the end of the day, everyone will never stop being "somebody else". There are separate lives to live, individual participation in time, isolated bodies from which we would seek the necessary shelter of privacy, and it is only incorrigibly naive to believe that there is sufficient capacity under such conditions to forge a connection of the depth I envisioned.
We all have our own worlds to explore and perceive, and nobody can follow us wherever we go, not for a few seconds, minutes, days...not for a thousand lonely years.
At this juncture I remembered how I once expressed to him, rather tentatively, my wish to be able to take him into my inner world and let him see the things I'm able to see, though at that point in time he had - understandably - brushed it off a little lightly. I told him in the mac lab that I didn't want to sleep because I'd fall into my dreams and he wouldn't be able to go where I'd go. I told him I didn't want to be alone, to be abandoned, to have to alternate between my mesh of jumbled up realities and seek solid ground utterly on my own. I told him, I told him, I told him. It all seems so laughable now, not in the sense of anger or disappointment, but rather akin to a parent laughing inwardly at his child who has taken a tumble after being too absorbed in mindless revelry. A little bitter too, perhaps. Who can truly remain unaffected when an illusion that mattered so much to him dissolves into just another solid, blank wall of truth? What I need now is time to reconcile the two halves of myself, one thing I've asked too much of life and yet never appreciated enough.
When I told him yesterday that this relationship has in some aspects made me 'revert to being such a child', I didn't mean it literally in terms of behavior and intellect. What I really meant was that it has liberated my inner child from the cold, apathetic shell I used to encase myself in, and I'm finding it easier and more natural lately to do things that my past self would never have condoned; in other words, behave in ways that are more truthful to my emotions, cease to constantly put up an act and just let my guard down a little, and tell myself that it's okay to be a little vulnerable, it's okay to be a little honest, it's okay to be a little dependent, a little weak, a little hurt. Who I used to be would never hum or sing in public, would never squirm and giggle, guilt-trip anyone, or ask if someone could accompany me to sit in a corner or go to a certain place and express slight disappointment when turned down. I would never have cried in public, or shook my head when someone asked if I was okay when I wasn't. They were things I never allowed myself to do. I didn't allow myself to be a girl or a child or a member or a leader - anyone but a strong, independent and individual self.
It was also a self that I had to discard in order to love and be loved.
So please, please understand...that even if my current self is a little (or even considerably) stupider and weaker and more dependent, it's really just who I am, not who I have become. I never thought I was capable of doing these things, and at some level it required a complete revision of my self-esteem and perception of my personal identity. It will take time. I will pull myself together.
I want to be able to love you without being a complete wreck, and that is what I'm going to work towards.
Until that day.
***
~~~*Left with the Winds at 10.32am*~~~
Monday, September 3, 2012
I've decided that at least for the next few weeks, I won't hate you, curse you, or punish you anymore. I'm tired, but even so I'm not going to give myself anymore excuses. I've been an unreasonable parent in both conceivable ways, and I'm going to change that.
Now take my hand, pick yourself up, take a deep breath and we'll pull us through. There's not much time left but it isn't too late.
Let's go let's go let's go!
***
~~~*Left with the Winds at 7.52pm*~~~
Saturday, September 1, 2012
When I look back at all the months that preceded the disastrous events over the past week, I realised just how much this relationship has changed me and encouraged growth in so many aspects of my life and personality, that sometimes I can't even begin to explain that growing gap that separates me from my past self like a crevasse splitting along my inner landscape. Just like what you told me two days ago, when we were sitting together at the table gazing at the rain, filled to the brim with crushing misery in face of lives embittered by unsuccessful struggles and failed wars...
"I'm tired. I feel that something's broken in me now."
It's true, and at some level I've definitely lost a significant part of my innocence, and the colourful idealisms I used to hold so dear to me have been marred in ways I have yet to fully comprehend. What is helplessly certain is that I can no longer dream with the comforts of security, laugh and fool around and lunge with careless conviction into joyous moments, and trust as openly, behave as freely, or be as certain of the protection I am able to offer the innermost personalities that reside within myself. Walls have been built, strings have been cut, boundaries have been redrawn and new fences are in place. I'm no longer able to be a child, at least not to myself...not anymore.
But all that is a compromise I'm willing to make, because I've discovered the ability to love, even if the journey has been more arduous and draining than any I've ever made and will most likely present more unsurmountable heights in the long run. The steep summits in the distance are only small, grey blotches against a horizon that suppresses everything and betrays nothing - so harmless, so innocent, coming in peace and so reassuring of their amicable disposition, that it is inexplicably difficult to reconcile these fuzzy dots with the monstrous monoliths they really are. Illusions. Dreams. Lies. What used to be my greatest friends are now my most unforgiving adversaries, and sometimes I do not know whether to run or embrace them as they come, because I wouldn't know what exactly it is I'd be forsaking or welcoming anymore.
One thing you must know, however, is that there is absolutely nothing I regret, not all the memories we share, not all the times we've spent together, not all the pain we've caused each other - not all that we have...not all of our love. The previous week has taken a lot out of me; at one point in time it really took away my ability to live, and for once I felt with utter dismay and hopelessness what it truly is like to be a dead man walking. And yet it is the very fact that we had nearly reached the breaking point (I did, I crossed it, but I went back eventually) that I realised...I realised...
I realised just how much I love you.
That day, after I came back from the counsellor, I noticed just how horrible you looked. You were completely off. Your eyes were red and empty and staring so fixedly at the screen it seemed as if this distraction you allowed yourself was the...only lifeline you had to hold on to, amidst your own emotions, amidst all that was happening, amidst the unbearable tension that vibrated between the two of us for the most part that day. I didn't know why, but I could no longer control myself and I cried. I sank below the table and cried, because that was all I could do, it was the only thing I could do. I was frustrated with myself, and at that point in time I could literally feel all my anger and hurt and the justifications - the logic and reason - that fed my fury slip away and disintegrate into nothingness. It hurt so terribly to see you hurt that it surprised me. I surprised myself.
To be perfectly honest, I had been observing you in the LT as well during the Raffles Speakers talk, when we were sitting at opposite ends of the hall. Each time you leaned against the wall, each time you looked away, each time you bent down to cough, my resolve crumbled. I really didn't have two choices...I really didn't actually need the counsellor...I've probably already made my decision right then and there, just that I wasn't sure of it.
I just wasn't sure of myself. But now I am.
I love you, I love you, I love you, and I need you to know...that regardless of all that happens, this is one thing that will never change.
***
~~~*Left with the Winds at 11.14am*~~~
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
You've won. I hope you're fucking happy now. After all everyone forgets about moral decency once in a while, don't they? It's no big deal, no big deal slowly poisoning someone you no longer give a fuck about; it's probably enjoyable anyway, and you've been waiting for this to happen for a long time just that you never had the courage it takes to speak up about it.
It only concerns you if the person is dead. Dead, and then you can get him out of your life.
You've gotten what you want. You've taken all I have. There is nothing I have left to give.
Have a fucking good life.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Please...please...
Please don't hurt me anymore.
I love you.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
After a while, having been so mindlessly engaged in the comings and goings of life and people and events and things for the past few months...I've forgotten how simple everything could be if only I could find it in myself to just let go. After all it's not something I'd have to go out of my way to strive for; I've always had the ability to do so, only I've thrown myself so willingly into the elaborate beauty of a rare illusion that was able to fully capture my heart and soul and sate these two famished beasts, that I cannot even conceive of any prospect of leaving it now...leaving this cage, this intricate home that offers at once the tender nourishment I need and the concentrated bouts of pain and misery that would make me throw myself against the bars in a desperate frenzy - until a cursory glance across the bleak and wintry landscape that spans for miles and miles beyond, with its howling wind, its battered trees, its excruciating whiteness and biting cold and blank scrutiny of the greying skies...makes me realise with a crushing sense of dejection that there's simply nowhere else to go.
And now, like most other illusions in which I've dived and nearly drowned, this one has begun to seem almost on the brink of dissipating right before my eyes into the cold, hard realisation of nothingness. A small part of me deep in myself is curling up on the ground and breaking into sobs underneath the blanket - of me, of all the layers and layers and layers of me that impose unforgivingly upon that part of myself in a ruthless attempt to quash it completely from existence. But I can't. I can't disappear, and I can't make myself disappear. Deep inside I'm still a child who has never grown up over the past few years, and probably never will.
I want to run away, but I don't know where I can look to. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I want. I don't know how I'm going to survive. I don't know what life is like, should be like, and will be like. What should I do? What can I possibly do?
I've decided that if an appointment can be made in time, I'll go for a counseling session next wednesday, because I think I...really, really need it now. I'm desperate. I'm lost. I've reached the stage where my cynicism has failed to delude myself into believing that my reserve of strength can last me through the battle with myself, and now I want nothing more than to talk to someone who would want nothing from me but my honest words, who would accept my flaws, not with loving eyes but with understanding ones all the same.
...It's times like this that I wish...
I wish...
...I wish I knew what I wish for.
***
~~~*Left with the Winds at 10.44pm*~~~
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