7 Years

Another year, another month,
Another week, another day,
Another hour, another minute,
Another second....another memory.

We remember you all and smile,
We remember you and our hearts sheds a tear.
We remember you all and laugh,
We remember you all hold back the tears.

The memories we had together,
The good times and laughs we shared.
The fights we had together,
The bad times we feared.

We remember your smile and say a little prayer,
We remember your warmth and say a little prayer,
We remember your laughter and say a little prayer,
We remember your words and say a little prayer.

We remember your tears and say a little prayer,
We remember your fears and say a little prayer,
We remember your worries and say a little prayer,
We remember your prayers and say a little prayer.

We remember your voice,
We remember you.

Mirror Mirror

If you could only look inside of mi,
What you see and what you would see will be a flip side of each other.
For my outside is a cover,
Not perfect but a lot more so than the real mi.

Here is a piece of mi,
Hardly seems comprehensible that I am still holding on together.
From this image you get parts to make a part,
Tears and pain glue all together.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
What you see isn't always what it is.

Daily Words

You can't hate a guy for not liking you.
You can't hate a guy for not accepting you.
You can't hate a guy for wanting to stay single.
You can't hate a guy for wanting your friend over you.
It's hard, it's painful but it's the truth.
You just have to accept it.
Does it bother you?? Of course. It would bother anyone. But you just have to accept it.
Does it hurt every time?? Of course. It would always hurt. But you just have to deal with it.
Can I cut it out cause its slowly killing mi?? Not a chance. Swimming or drowning through it is your only option.
Can you at least cry it out?? I guess not. Cause there's no one to cry out to.
Why?? You know the idiot that cut her safety net loose before she got to land?? Yea, that's mi.
Maybe it would be better in the morning.

Junkie for Pain

It's the waiting that is killing mi
It's the waiting that I hate.
It's the waiting that makes mi want to throw myself off a bridge and end it all.
It's the waiting that depresses mi
It's the waiting that hurts.
It's the waiting that makes the reality all too real and knife worthy.
It's the waiting that gnaws at mi
It's the waiting I dispise.
It's the waiting that gets restarted as soon as that re-blinking light begins.
It's the waiting that's anxious for mi
It's the waiting that kills.
It's the waiting that makes my heart race without a reason.

Torture

Tormenting mi seems to be the order of the day, week, month and freaking year. The funny part is I can't complain because it would be quite silly sounding....maybe I should go see a therapist but then what would I say?? 'Hi, meet the unlovable. Now fix mi?' Ok sure, I shouldn't say that but it is really hard....

It's not even sad as much as it is so bloody annoying....you know when someone is enjoying every minute of the torture he or she is putting you through. Where you can see the amusement your reaction brings, and as much as you hate to fuel that look, your emotions and your heart refuse to cooperate with you. 

But really though, why do I keep jumping back into the same pattern and the same routine?? I sink into depression, drag myself out, spend most of my life fighting it, loose and back again....
And through all of it, my heart hurts.
....
....

I want out. 

Just Enough

I love you enough it hurts my heart,

So much it maims mi flat

I love you enough it makes mi a tool,

So much the world sees mi a fool

,I love you enough its hard to breathe

.So much there is not enough air on earth

,I love you enough its hard to breathe

.So much I need air

,I love you enough it makes mi a tool

.So much I need a life

,I love you enough it hurts my heart

.So much the ache is my beat

.I love you enough....just enough for it to hurt

I Often Miss Him

Some days I miss him.
I miss his smile, 
I miss his laughter.
I miss the way his eyes light up when he finds something funny.
Its funny though; I miss him but I never had him.

Some days I miss him.
I miss his voice,
I miss his words.
I miss how he gets amused when he irritates mi.
Its funny though, I miss him but I never had him.

Some days I miss him.
I miss his eyes,
I miss his face.
I miss the way his eyes twinkle for no reason at times.
Its funny though, I miss him but I never had him.

Some days I miss him.
I miss the laughter,
I miss the arguments.
I miss the bikker and random comments that go for days on end.
Its funny though; I never had him, though some days, I wish I had. 

Can I Be For A Min

Can I be sad for a minute and cry??

Nope; I told you so.

Can I feel bad for myself for just a little bit??

Nope; it would help no one.

Can I talk for a minute and unburden??

Nope; it becomes impossible to press-down.

Can I crawl under my blanket, with headphones and block it all away??

Nope; this is your reality.

Is it so much to ask that I get a reciprocal??

Yes, the world can’t be fair.

Is it so difficult to get a shoulder for a bit??

Yes, you currently can’t afford it.

Is it bad that I want to be…. so scared I cant even ask it….

Yes, must do you first.

Is it such a horrible thing when I let myself out??
Yes, you currently aren’t worth it.

Won’t it be nice to not have to say I knew it all the time??

Just as nice as it would be to predict the future.

Won’t it be nice to not have to feel this déjà vu only with an actual past always??

Just as nice as it would be to change the past.

Won’t it be nice to not have to fight the nausea constantly, unsure if its at the thought of self or others??

Just as nice as it would be to look in the mirror unforced.

Won’t it be nice to be a little secure, at least even before anything happens??

Just as nice as it would be to be free.

Is it bad to not want this constant racing heart??

Nope, but a lottery wish is easier.

Is it bad to not want this constant longing too??

Nope, but an addict’s freedom is easier to achieve.

Is it bad to not want to be the ‘no’ option all the time??

Nope, but the ugly duckling seems to have an easier luck.

Is it bad to just have the eye on mi for once, doesn't even have to be first??

Nope, but that's too pathetic for my ego to let you be.

Hyposomnia

Most days, I sleep longer, because the day seems to go by quicker. It's not at if I have anything especially exciting to do in the morrow, or as if there is something new to look for in the next day. No; it is simply because the hours are less tedious and boring when reduced. The same routine daily; maybe in varying order, but ultimately, the same. Then I have to ask myself, is this really it in life??
I figured as a people, some of us spend most of our life's trying to figure out what we want to do with our lives. By the time we get the semblance of a possible hook on the answer, something always gets in the way. Though granted there are some lucky ones; a few I dare say, who find that path that leads them out of the never ending monotonous circle, and off to the 'road not taken'. Those are the lucky ones to mi, because they have found a way to break the curse of boredom. Though what lies beyond the road is still a mystery. For all unknown, it could simply be a road to another endless circle, or a round about journey back to be original circle. But given the life expectancy of most humans, I'd say its better to take one's chances with be road, as the possibility of you expiring all the paths and coming back to the original dreadful circle in the course of one life time is pretty slim.

Again

Why do I get myself here all the time, when I knw I'd end up feeling crappy about it latter.
I torture myself most times, and I'm not a masochist though. Not by a long short. But it's almost like someone else plays mi and tortures mi in my stead it hurts somehow all I can do is bleed through it and cry through it and then move on. Accept it and love on.... Or accept it and bottle it all down inside I'd say I'm done, but sadly it's not my place. I have no say in what happens. So I can't say I'm done. I wish I could say.

Tribute to a Beloved Uncle

Dear Uncle Emma,

No one ever gives you a manual or a ‘How to Navigate The Waters' book in this area. It is like being a little child and having that horrible swim coach, who simply throws you into the pool and says ‘swim’, with no prior experience or knowledge. But even as horrid as that sounds, the child is still expected to swim. He is expected to overcome his immediate woes and survive. Despite how terrified of moving forward the child is, or how scary navigating through the waters seems, he still does it because it is the only thing he can do. He still does it because he is expected to survive.

Death, like the coach, has tossed us into these uncharted waters, and has rubbed us of you. Death has rubbed us of your smile and your caring words, of your laughter and your wise advises. Death has rubbed us of your loving reproaches and your encouraging arms. Death has rubbed us of you. And like the little child, we are now wadding through unchartered waters. Though we want to sit still and cry for help, we have to paddle forward. Though we want to yell at whomever is to blame for tossing us in this turmoil, we have to paddle forward. Though we want to be depressed forever, we have to paddle forward.

We try to paddle forward, telling ourselves that by way of comfort, you would have encouraged us to do so instead of sit and cry. We try to paddle forward, telling ourselves that by way of advice, you would have told us to do so instead of yelling and casting blame. We try to paddle forward, telling ourselves that by way of cheering us up, you would have told us to do so instead of wallowing in depression.

So with the believe that you are now at peace, resting in Him and now free of pain, So with the believe that you are now home, smiling down on us; we bid you farewell and a good rest, and we paddle forward as best as we can, and hope we make you proud.

        Rest easy with our Lord, till we meet to part no more.

Adieu Dear Father, Uncle and Brother. 

                                         27th September, 2012.

Blanks

She is blank.

Looking at the picture before her, it is amazing they say it is the story of her life, because everything is unreal to her. It all seems like a movie she is unfamiliar with. Funny irony?? They say this picture is her life. Her future to be precise.

'She was born, she lived and she died'. But that is not true right??
'She was born....and she died'; that seems to be more of what it feels like.

Emotional Drama he says??

How odd.

One would think that when you say something like that, you don't go stop concerning yourself with YOUR unnecessary emotional 'baggage'...'...at least not after the person being spoken to has evidently gone through depression several times...and had to self-help each time...
But then she is the fool for thinking there would be a difference this time when there was nothing remotely close to that the last time....

A Simpleton's Prayer

These days, I feel lost.
As a result, I feel scared.
As a result, I feel doubt.
As a result, I can't move.

These days I don't know what's ahead.
As a result, I don't know what is expected.
As a result, I don't know what to do.
As a result, I can't move. 

These days, I feel a conclusion, without knowing the play. 
As a result, I can't write the next part.
As a result, I can't plan ahead.
As a result, I can't move.

I don't plan the future, He does.
I don't know the next move, He does.
I don't see the end, He does.
So I cry here for help. 

Based on Old English Times....

A girl runs away from home after you tell her, unceremoniously, that she is a bastard and unwanted. Then she is found by one of your groomsmen, who saves her and tajes her on a journey with him since no one seems to want her. Said girl tries to commit suicide when it seems groomsman would marry someone else, and there is no place for her. He saves her once more, realizes they have feelings for each other and get married to her. Then, due to unforeseen circumstances, she has to come back to her home to ask for help to save the groomsman. Then the family, with the passing of the two who hated the girl the most - grandmother and father - welcome her with 'open' arms. The catch is that she must divorce the groomsman, as he is not 'fit' to be with her. She threatens to disappear again if the family should try to interfere. Mother, who refuses to eat with the groomsman as she does not 'eat with servants' goes to tell the man to leave the girl. She says he should leave her for a week and test her feelings for him. She blames the feelings of the girl on the journey she has been on. The man leaves. Of course the girl, as soon as  she finds out, runs off and catches up with him. 

What annoys mi in all this isn't the nerve of the mother to make such a request, but the untrusting man. Doubting Thomas. While it is understandable for him to doubt her feelings based on their financial differences - she was raised as a lady and he was and still is regarded as a 'working man' or a servant - it is still a bit rude to doubt a person's feelings for you, after said person has tried to commit suicide because she thought she would loose you. While suicide isn't something I would recommend, it makes mi wonder just what one has to do to prove his or her love these days. I mean if suicide does not remove the doubts, then what would?? 

Prayer of a Broken Bird

If you would not love me, 

then do not touch me. 

If you would not keep me,

then do not hold me. 

If I would not be yours forever, 

then do not pull me close. 

Cause I am broken. 

In pieces I am,

As I've been touched but not loved.

In pieces I am,

As I've been held but not kept.

In pieces I am, 

As I've been pulled close but never shown forever. 

Now I am broken.

I have no more pieces to shatter.

I have no more parts to break. 

I have no more lives to live.

I have no more hopes to hold on to. 

There would be no survival for more breaks. 

There would be no strand to keep me together.

So broken, I make this plea: 

If you would not love me, 

then do not touch me. 

If you would not keep me,

then do not hold me. 

If I would not be yours forever, 

then do not pull me close. 

Give me a chance to live again. 

The Girl Who Danced With The Snake (2)

Stupid scenario that played out in 1, considering the cause of her current woes - A and B - are the stars of the last show.
She was on the A/B team. She cheered them on, watched them grow and would have had the usual happy ending, had she not lingered on with them, like the fool she is here, and gotten herself into this current mess. Now, she isn't even sure there is any kind of cheering going on....

But she wishes them well, funny enough. Not sick, not sad, not pain. Just well. If going away is the only way they can be well, then pls, she will set them free.

H.A.G.L.
Have A Good Life. 

Cruelty Defined

You say you want to leave cause I'm a cruel person,
So let mi be cruel for you.
You say you want to leave cause I'm too cruel sometimes,
So let mi be cruel for you.

You said it was wrong for mi to walk out of a life whenever I felt like it,
You decided to walk into my life when you felt like it,
You decided to walk out as well when you gelt like it,
I'm yet to call you cruel.

You said it was wrong for mi to run away when it got bad. 
You decided to run cause you couldn't stand it/mi anymore,
You decided to run cause it was easier for you,
I'm yet to call you cruel.

You said I couldn't lie to you, and you understood mi best.
You decided to misunderstand/misinterpret all I say.
You decided to ignore my feelings cause you didn't understand,
I'm yet to call you cruel.

You said you could understand mi even when I don't say anything.
You decided, without telling mi, that statement was a bit of a stretch.
You decided I was bitter and you couldn't stand it. 
I'm yet to call you cruel.

Did you know it is easier to call a person cruel than to hear it being said??
Did you know it is easier to declare that a person as 'bitter' than to hear it being said??
Did you know it is easier to self-righteously leave than to be the one left behind??
Funny, as I'm yet to call you cruel.

A heart once scarred, knows how to be alone,
Understands how to be alone.
So I'd put my scarred heart back in place. 
I'd relearn how to make it heal.

A heart in pain, knows how to mend itself,
Understands its not the best healing.
So I'd put my pained heart back in place.
I'd relearn how to make it heal. 

I wish you a good life, 
Cause as you walk out that door, 
My heart closes with its sound. 
But its fine.
I'd mend again, I'd heal again, I'd be fine again,
Cause life continues. 
And this heart once opened, hurt and closed, never reopens again. 

He was human

He was gay,
He died.
His partner cried,
Society shunned.

Why though??

He was someone's child,
He was someone's hope.
He was someone's love,
He was someone's world.

He came out,
Got harassed.
Suicide.
His partner cried,
Society shunned.

Why though??

He also had a mother,
He also had a friend.
He also brought laughter,
He also brought joy.

He was,
He is,
He will remain,
Forever human.

Fair v Unfair

Funny how I ask to leave, at the appropriate time, and I get turned down. But then when it becomes too hard for everyone, like I thought it would be, when it becomes too congested for everyone, like I knew it would be, they all decide, maybe now is the time to flee. They all decide maybe being together is no longer conducive, and leaving is a good idea. 

Cute right??

Did anyone ever think it might be hard for mi now?? Did anyone ever think making mi stay when I didn't want to, making mi try to make it work when I didn't think it was a good idea, then telling mi to let it go might be just a little bit overly emotional for mi. 

Cruel she said.

Ya, maybe I'm cruel. Since in the end, I'm the one who is called cruel. In the end, I'm the one who needs to make random explanations. In the end, I'm the one who has to apologize to make everyone feel better. In the end, I'm the one who has to let it go and try and make it better. I do get hurt, but in the end, it doesn't really matter cause I'm the cruel one. 

Its my fault though. I'm the one who keeps expecting so much from people, I'm the one who gets hurt when that expectation is not met. I'm the one who trusts infinitely. I'm the one who gets hurt when that trust is broken. I'm the one who accepts all friends, and I'm the one whose friend gets told, in so many words, she is un-welcomed. 

I'm the one that pushes everyone away. I'm the one alone, like I knew from the start. I'm the one thinking 'maybe I could have endured a little bit, maybe I could have pretended I was fine for a little longer'. I'm the one that keeps writing and conducting the research on the fact that 'everyone leaves'.

I'm the one who is always right.

This time, before and probably next time.

Funny thing is, I'm still the one who would be asked what went wrong, held accountable and blamed, I'm still the one who would be called 'selfish' in the end. 
Maybe I really am selfish.
Maybe I really am cruel. 
Maybe I really deserve to be put here over and over.
In the end....

It's all mi in the end. 

lol, I should stick to South-east Asia, at least I understand them a little better. 

Cages

A wounded cat trapped in a four-walled space,
She runs around, fighting the claustrophobia, trying to pretend she is in the wild.
A wounded cat trapped and cornered,
They surround her, taking more of her freedom, draining more of her air.

Her natural instinct is to run,
Run and go nurse her wounds as she reunites with her freedom.
Trapped and cornered, she has no place to go.
Trapped and cornered, she has only one response.

Her natural instinct is to fight,
Lash out and hurt until her corner becomes a space and her space, freedom.
But it hurts her to fight so won't you set her free??
But it deepens her wound to fight so won't you let her be??

They say its selfish of her to want to be free,
She hurts others by wanting to be free.
But it hurts her to stay and not be free,
It hurts her to stay cornered and not run free.

But they won't let her go,
They won't let her be free,
They won't let her breathe,
So she must remain caged, wounded until one side breaks.

Death of a Flower

And the flower was spotted, 
it was watered,
it was nourished. 
It grew tall and handsome. 

Strong and swayed with the wind. 

And the flower blossomed, it was beautiful. 

We all loved it, we all admired it. 

We all wanted to stand next to it. 

Then the flower died.

It was pretty,  full of brightness the other day, and now it is no more.

It was envied, standing tall with pride, and now its is no more.

It was protected, surrounded by love and affection, and now it is no more.


And the flower was born, lived and grew.
And the flower was born, grew and died. 


And the flower was. 

....When he doesn't turn....

She stands by the window,
staring out.
It's windy outside, she notices,
'He would be cold' she thinks and smiles. 


She makes a bet with Mi,
a silly one to be honest.
No was an option, she didn't take it,
'If he cares, he'd look', we agree. 


I watch her lean in towards the window,
she touches it lightly.
We both know the outcome, silly bet. 
'Like watching a train wreck' she says and smiles. 


He comes out and pulls his hoody tighter,
she smiles the 'I-told-you-so' smile.
He walks to the parking lot and searches for his car,
she smiles the 'I-knew-it' smile.


He gets in his car and drives off,
she says a quick safety prayer.
I look at her, pained by the sadness in her eyes.
'Its not a win when you're on the same side' I say.


A silly bet,
A silly bet that was. 

...Dear Tasha...

My dear Tasha,

Do you know the sun did not shine today?

No, not in her lovely way!

For the skys have blocked her rays,

And earth is no longer in tune with her ways.

Both inside and outside, all is quit.

Not peaceful, more like a dark, cold night!

Feels like a bad omen,

Much worse than the nightmere.

Oh Tasha, where are you?

Is it true that your world too is blue?

For we here view your world as paradise,

but if it is blue, am afraid there would be none to still our cries!

And all we'd have left is....






....to be continued....

Chess Pieces.

These are the last words of warning I would say to you.

From here on out, I have no idea how life would play out for us. I would not lie to you- I am not scared, but I think that you should be though. I think that you should be terrified.

My little rival-kitten.

Do you know how to play chess? Well even if you say no, we both know with the mind games you play, 'yes', is the more reasonable answer. 

You've picked mi as your opponent. I feel you should know, I never loose. And in this game of ours, there are no foul moves. Everything is fair game. 

So come at mi with all you've got. Don't be afraid. I bite, but you said you can take it. Come at mi with all you've got, because I'd be doing the same and some.

And when we are done, the last words on your lips would be my name.

And when we are done, the last words from mi would be 'I told you so'. 

Happy Ending.

There is a boy talking to a girl and another girl.

And that other girl is she.

There is a boy talking to a girl and another girl.

The girl does not know it.

There is a boy talking to a girl and another girl.

She has seen this situation before.

There is a boy talking to a girl and another girl.

She was the girl in the last situation.

There is a boy talking to a girl and another girl.

'Is this reverse Karma??' She asks.

There is a boy talking to a girl and another girl.

The girl thinks of she as a friend.

There is a boy talking to a girl and another girl.

She does not know what she thinks of the girl.

There is a boy talking to a girl and another girl.

She feels a little guilty.

There is a boy talking to a girl and another girl.

But like watching a train wreck, she cant stop.

There is a boy talking to a girl and another girl.

Theres about to be two out of three happy endings. 

The Mother

Just watched this Korean movie (yes I do that a lot these days, moving on) based on the story of the Korean Serial Killer Yoo Young Cheol. Overlooking the fact the case was all levels of disturbing, I'd focus on the fictional aspect in the movie. His last victim was a prostitue who, despite being tied up and had received a blow to her head, escaped from the house and tried to get help. In all this, I was amazed by her strength - the strength of a mother. Obviously no one wants to die, but still in all she went through, the only thing she kept thinking about was her daughter alone in the house. 

Mothers are amazing. I mean that goes without saying. But the bond and protective nature of a mother truly amazes mi. Like the wild cats, their natural instinct is to protect their young with a vengeance like no other.  No matter how strong the opponent is, when it comes to keeping her young safe, a mother would go all out. It is the natural instinct. 

Which is why it truly amazes mi to hear stories about women who harm their children. I mean, how hard must that be for them?? It's hard to do things out of character, not to speak of things against ones nature. I think that might be a reason for the depression most women who hurt their children feel. It's like a right handed person trying to write with his left for whatever reason. It is so hard, and when it cannot be helped, often times painful. It leads to frustration and depression. Why would someone, experiencing all these things, continue to put themselves through it?? 

Is the answer 'I couldn't help myself' really sufficient in this case - where nature is the true opponent??