Behind My Back came Forward.

He didn't mean for mi to hear. And he had a right to be concerned as a parent.
I understand that in my head. I promise, I do.
The problem is I heard and now I can't help but feel hurt.
This is why I'm a firm advocate for the 'not wanting to hear what people say behind your back' policy. Cause my life is perfectly fine while they talk behind my back. But it's when I hear the words that problems arise.

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....

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.

Sitcoms

So I got betrayed. Yeah thats out the door.
Its too long a tale and frankly am tired of relieving it.
The problem I am having now is passing the blame. I have been fine blaming myself this entire time, till a friend scolded mi for that. Now I am stuck here wondering who is to blame for what happened then?? And then along the way I started thinking maybe its not as big of a deal as I played it out to be. Maybe I over reacted. Maybe I was hurt, but the level of hurt was totally my fault. Maybe the other party doesnt need to even apologize as much as it seems....Maybe all this while I made them feel bad and I am the selfish one.....
So many maybes keep coming, and all I want to do is crawl back into bed, back to sleep and wake up to find this has all been one long and very unfunny nightmare..... but I have come to learn the hard way that life doesn't ever go the way I want it to, and I just have to deal. Be a big girl and suck it up.


Friend said there is no comfortable place in life. If thats the case then I want out. I didn't sign up for that. I almost wish we were given a manual to read before we signed anything like 'coming to earth'. Maybe we could have opted for a different planet or something if we didn't like the terms of the contract. Just saying.


agreements.....


Sigh.


But it is fine. I trust too much I was told, so no more trusting. Just totally believing everything and not getting shocked when I find out it was not as I was told. If I didn't trust, then I did expect something to change and would not be too affected if it does. Its like getting a maybe from a performer. That means both yes and no. So if he latter calls and says its a no, you would be fine cause you were not relying totally on him. On the other hand, if he calls and says its a yes, then well thats good. You have a great performer for your show. Either way, the show would go on.


Just like now, the show must go on. And I 'd be right back after I crawl back under my blanket for a few more hours. 


Cheers

Why Can't I Hate You??

Lets describe....short of words.....first time. Lol

Kill Mi quickly cause this slow shit aint cutting it. You won’t shut up, which is the only problem right now you know. Cause everything else I am used to, everything else I can take. But you just won’t Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

Its not hard cause it was expected. Being observant is a bitch but hey, gives a girl a warning at least. Lol. So it was clear and accepted long before anything happened. Now we both know that, so why do you insist on going on and on about it?? Why won’t you just let Mi endure my hell in peace?? That’s unfair.

Hell is bad enough as it is, being there with you, now that is just the ultimate punishment.

Do I beg?? But that makes you happy doesn't it?? You get worse and there is nothing I can do about it....life is a lot better when I don't beg. 
Fuck it, who we kidding, I won't beg you even if it would cost my life....I guess we both know it, which is why we also both know I am doomed to this hell you have placed mi. 

Like it or not I may, but there is nothing I can do about it....so God help us both then....
someone needs to.... 

....From The Eyes Of The Beheld....

When you adore something, you watch it.
You don't touch it.
You don't touch it for you fear that then it would be contaminated. No longer pure, no longer the beauty that you behold. You would be contaminating it with the essence of yourself. The essence that makes you thus unworthy, thus impure, thus a simple guardian.
You understand this, you accept this.
But then disaster strikes.
Now that which you adore so is in shambles. You watch as the pieces gather together. Holding on to each other to soothe the ache that they each share. The common ache that you all share, though yours is well masked, well hidden.
You watch the bond and once again, it's painfully clear. Your heart is hurt cause you watch that which you adore stand before you, its pieces holding on together to comfort itself. To become stronger.
Suddenly, it becomes even more painfully obvious, your position. You are merely an observer to them. A visitor, charming nonetheless, but still a visitor. One with a mere interest in what that which you adore are, but not one that can feel or understand like them. You are automatically tagged, along with the rest of the outsiders, as one with sympathy, but incapable of empathy.
Tragic loss.
Now you have two kinds of pain to deal with. The pain of watching your beloved hurt in a way you could never have wished upon your own daemons. The pain of being all but ostracized as an outsider by the same beloved: Kept so close but yet so far, stuck between being one and being none. An empath to your degree, it hurts more.
You close your eyes, and the eery all too familiar echo of silence engulfs you. Not the silence of peace, but that which echos with lonesomeness. That which is plagued by the every living fact that awake or in sleep, remains eternal.
It's sad. Playing the beholder to the beholder to the beheld. The beheld knows not what it does to the other. The beholder cannot help the one between. For as sad as it is to say, the beholder is but one.
So to soothe yourself, you dive into the fantasies. The loves, the hopes, the dreams once held, all fulfilled. For a time, the ache is pacified, the loneliness is sated. And like a drug, the effect soon wears out, leaving you aching till the next dose.

If you understand any of this, then congratulations. You have become a beholder; seeing what no other has been able to do before - see from the eyes of the one in between....

Reservoir Chronicles: The Real Mi

"Let me tell you about Mi" she said....

....I chase after something that I myself do not know....

....I have the ability to kill, and I know it....

....Everything about life is a game to me, you loose some, you win some....

....I like good boys because its a puzzle finding whats bad about them....

....I hate self sacrifice....

....I smile as a reaction to all things, no emotional change....

"Let me tell you about Mi" she said....

....There is someplace I want to be, though I don't know where....

....I hate it when people make a completely false image about me to me....

....I love boys because they are more complicated and fun to pick apart....

....I would go with you to any length, simply to see how far you would go....

....I don't like girls partly because I am one....

...I want someone to understand me, yet I don't want to tell anyone about me....

....I love fast things....

....I love 'happily-ever-afters' in others...

....I want someone to tell us apart, yet I don't want to give any hints....

....And as I stared and listened to her, I wanted to say....

There is a fire in your eyes,

and it flashes through your smile.

There is a radiance that i know only comes with my glow.

There is a reason that I'm here,

And its something that I fear,

We refuse to release the other,

And there in lies the problem.

The Illusion before you,

Is a mere shadow of what lies beneath.

The face you see,

Is a mere representation of what side it holds.

The voice you hear,

Is a mere cover for the true tales it tells.

The smile you behold,

is never loyal to one emotion.

Would you like to see the real Mi??

As would I.

Faked

She likes the night because she is free.
All is still at night, all is alone.
Thus the echoes of her loneliness blend right in.
The missing pieces in her smile go unnoticed.

She hates the day for she is bound.
The brightness shows it all, so she needs a mask.
To hide the tears and the emptiness of her heart.
And words to deafen the hallowing echoes from within.

....In the Silence....

Engulfed.
In the cone of silence,
She alone hears him.
Calling.
He is back....
Or maybe he never left.

Louder.
His colors bold as ever,
She alone can see them.
Bleeding.
He cuts her....
Or maybe the old wound reopened.

Mesmerized.
Trapped in his cold embrace,
Silent tears fall from her.
Mirrors.
He loves her....
Or maybe she hallucinates.

You.
Another walks in,
Silent tears like hers.
She hates him; She loves him.
For he is she, she is he.

Help.
She wants to scream,
No sound is heard.
In the still silence,
He alone hears her.
You alone understands her.
Neither of help to her.

She hears it,
She feels it,
She understands it.
That thing that fills the empty core,
Yet still leaves it empty.

....She....

Darkness engulfing,
closer, closer.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to out run it.

Light receding,
faster, faster.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to run to it.

Shakes subduing,
colder, colder.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to get off the island.

Warmth retreating,
farther, farther.
And no matter how hard she tries,
she can't seem to get close enough to keep it.

Cycle rotating,
slowly, slowly,
And no matter how different the show seems,
she can't help but end up at the same finish line.

Story unfolding,
magically, magically,
And no matter how wonderful the play looks,
she can't help but end up with the same part, audience, all the time....

....All She Can....

She smiles then you smile,
She stays then you stay,
She laughs then you laugh,
She says she is leaving and your shattered.
Without her, you seem to fall apart,
And all she can do is watch you.


Her words give you breath,
Her voice gives you life,
Her sight gives you strength,
Her hatred is your worst fear.
Without her, you seem weak all over,
And all she can do is watch you.


In her palms rest your heart,
In her palms rest your soul,
In her palms rest your life,
One squeeze and you are off the cliff.
Without her, you are a lifeless doll.
And all she can do is watch you.


Would you ever be really happy?
Would you ever be really whole?
Would you ever be really free?
Would she ever tell you the truth?
....All she can do is watch you....

....Only a little bit....

I wish to see him everyday.
I wish to speak to him everyday.
I wish to see him smile everyday.
Maybe if I leave him a little he would notice.
Maybe I want him to miss Mi a little.

I wish he would dream of Mi everyday.
I wish he would think of Mi everyday.
I wish he would want MI everyday.
Maybe I want him just as miserable without Mi.
Maybe I want him to miss Mi a little.

I wish he would talk of Mi everyday.
I wish he would pine for Mi everyday.
I wish he would wish for Mi everyday.
Maybe I want him to come to adore Mi.
Maybe I want him to miss Mi a little.

I wish he spoke not of her everyday.
I wish he prayed not for her everyday.
I wish he longed not for her everyday.
Maybe I want him to come to choose Mi.
Maybe I want him to myself only a little.

Resevoir Chronicles: "Thats who I am"

I close my eyes and I see your tears,
I close my eyes and I see your smile,
I close my eyes and I see you saying goodbye,
I close my eyes, and all I see is you.

I am aware of how you feel,
I am aware of how you think,
I am aware of how you are,
I am aware I dont comprehend the logic behind it all.

You always say whats on your mind,
You always say how you feel,
You always do as you please,
You always....its always about you.

You say you are listening,
You say you do understand,
You say you know what I am talking about,
You say a lot of things you don't mean.

Deciding when to come, you came.
Deciding when to leave, you left.
Deciding we be intimate, it did not matter.
Deciding all this, you did alone, we have/had no say.

Deciding the story, you make the play.
Deciding the characters, you act the part.
Deciding the ending, you take the bow.
Deciding the audience....wait, where do we come in??

Can I say....

'That's enough' is your standard response,
Who would have guessed it was never words alone?
I have been running in circles,
Am calling it quits now. Taking a rest.

'Thats my best friend' you say a lot.
Who can believe when it's always a lie.
I am tired of begging, talking, this circular journey.
Am finaly giving you your wish, I'll tell you good bye....

I wish I could say....

"That's who I am"

Reservoir Chronicles: Emotic Alien (Sequel )

Juxtaposed fountain of emotions,
Emotions that dispute themselves.
Selfish, spoiled, juvenile and problematical.
Lovable, adorable, beautiful and child like.

Insatiable sun of a gun,
Perfection can only happen your way,
All other lanes are closed, only what you say goes:
In your little world and the real one too.

Lost and lonely kitten,
Fragile yet strong, strong yet fragile.
Sometimes with your heart at the tip of our fingers,
Scared to breathe for fear we drop it and kill you.

Now locked up away in chains forever,
Your heart does seem. Cold to behold through your eyes.
You choose to run and save yourself; from what, I don't know.
Forgetting that once out, a heart freed can never be relocked the same.

Unchanged

Tears unshed,
Tears unshedable.
Pain unmeasured,
Pain unmeasurable.
Screams unheard,
Screams unhearable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Words unsaid,
Words unsayable.
Thoughts unshared,
Thoughts unshareable.
Things undone,
Things undoable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Time unwound,
Time unwindable.
Things undone,
Things undoable.
Mistakes not undone,
Mistakes not undoable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Emotions unnoticed,
Emotions unnoticable.
Feelings unshared,
Feelings unsharable.
Death unacomplished,
Death unacomplishable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Things ungotten,
Things ungettable.
Wishes unanswered,
Wishes unanswerable.
Desires unmet
Desires unmeetable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.

Faults unblamed,
Faults unblamable.
Problems unsolved,
problems unsolvable.
Help unatained,
Help unatainable.
A heart since unbeating,
Now wrenches as a gut wound.
Yet, still remains, unbeating.

....Her letter to Mi....

Dear you,

I would tell you about my frustrations. About how I feel hopeless and impossibly useless because I cannot do anything for them who matter to mi, but sit and watch as they crumble in different ways before me. 

I would tell you about how I watch them cry in near fascination and despair, because while I want to ease their pain and help them, I still envy them simply because they are free to shed their tears. 

I would tell you about how pathetic my life has become. About how I have given up on personal 
happiness, a term I know no meaning to, and now depend on them, among others, for my happiness. Thus when they are unhappy, I am at a loss for both worlds are in disorder, as the life line saving both has been temporarily (we hope) severed. 

I would tell you about how I wish I could be with them forever. For then my fears of the dark and lonely minutes that accompany it would be eased, as I would no longer be alone. 

I would tell you about how I close my eyes at night with nightmares of the future. Afraid to stay awake for fear of my thoughts, I run to sleep and am slapped back to earth by the nightmares that plaque mi. So I wrestle with the gods of thought and dreams, until dawn comes and I have to resume as usual.

I would tell you about the terrors I feel, when I look into the vast emptiness that is called my future. No plans, no strict ambitions, not direction. Never has it been so empty, and never have I had to wrestle with the enemy called 'Unknown' for this long. There is no 'store away' box big enough to hide this and so I wake to this companion, ever faithfully, everyday. I would tell you about how their smiles and happiness and 'I love you's seem to redeem a part of mi, and I feel like I am....

....I would tell you all these things and more, but there is no you, and neither is there a thing to tell....nothing to tell, no one to tell it to....a lass forgive mi, for I have wasted your time....

She.

Flip Side

Sometimes I wish I was a star,
so all my troubles and embarrassments
would be behind mi.
For though men would still get to see them,
It would not matter for I would be a million
miles long gone.

But then the troubles did have their turn,
and for the embarrassments, the people did
have their fun
For though man saw them too late,
other stars watched as they occurred.

Sometimes I wish I were a mother,
and my child remained but an infant.
For then it would love mi unconditionally,
and I would not need to prove myself so much,
or try to please so hard.

But then the infant did grow,
and its teenage years did glow.
Then the sweet obsession of old,
now became a delight sometimes so
painful to behold.

Sometimes I wish I were a bird,
with no mind of my own to worry.
For then I would truly believe that all will
be provided in a hurry,
and trust alone rather than try to help.

But then the eagle flies,
and my youngs as meals die.
And I am forced to think,
and worry about what tomorrow might bring.

Sometimes I wish I was the wind,
freely moving in the world as I see fit.
For I would go and see all that my heart pleases,
without worrying about who or what the cost upsets,
or something worthwhile I must do as I move.

But then the storms did come,
and destruction did it cause.
Then the son of man searched for ways,
to curb and put the wind in its place.

Reservoir Chronicles: Parallel Universe

Walking the same path,
Two lines they are.
Seeing the same things,
But at different times and different views.

Wanting the same things,
These lines I see,
Yet feeling so alone,
For the other just went by a second ahead.

You don't see the footprints in the sand, do you?
I ask one line.
Take a break from your run and pause, would you not?
I ask the second.
Yet to the finish they both run,
Only to get there alone and begin the journey back,
Alone once more.

Two lines they are,
Parallel yet of the same goal.
Both wishing to meet the other,
Both believing the other is fine alone.
Both being sadly wrong in their conclusions.

Two lines they are,
And like mi, lies are their favorite companions,
For they believe the other is happy,
And in the other's happiness, they would find theirs.
But in this triangle we know,
That is but an aged old maid's tale....

Would you slow down and watch the sun set with mi?
I ask one.
Would you slow down and watch the sun set with mi?
I ask the other.
And then I silently pray,
That they both heard 'sunset',
And they both make it to her slow descent,
So at some point in the sun's return,
The two universes would become one again.

Your Silence

Your silence is like a knife,
Slashing deeper and deeper as it extends.
Your voice is like a salty balm,
Painfully calming the wound the knife burned in,
Until the next season of ur 'silent' attack.
I wonder which she craves for more.

As painful as it sounds,
I understand that she cannot force upon you,
That which she still cannot accept herself.
Yet this realization hurts the more,
So she silently weeps.

Would you be so kind as to cut the link entirely,
So the wound may at least begin to heal?
Though I fear you are so oblivious
that you do not see the trail of destruction you leave in your wake.
I beg you, have pity.

Its not fair for mi to be mad at you.
Its not fair for her to be sad alone.
Thus I am for once grateful to fate.
For she has placed you and her oceans apart,
And soon she would no longer long for your voice.
For in her lonely sorrows,
She may become content in the knowledge that
Your silence is all that she can have.

Goodnight.