When Stargazer wants to die (part 2)

Minute Madness started the whole thing about Stargazer. It is she who is to blame for bringing me down this road. 

And so it continues here:

“But I like Stargazer,” Nicky hesitantly ventures. “I think it’s…pretty.”

“Bleh. Stargazers are for sissies. And sissies, for one, should all die.” Stargazer stomps her foot down hard onto the wary floor and imagines in her tiny cranky head how the seams of the earth crack little by little every time she kicks up a fuss. 

Nicky, at loss for a moment, suddenly weaves back into reality and tries to muster up an intelligent opinion, for once. “Uhm…but if everyone chooses to die just because they don’t like their names…don’t you think the world would be full of dead people then?”

Stargazer lets out a mighty cackle. “Well, well, look at you. Trying to be all grown up with your phileesoficale comments…” and then she stops short, not knowing what else to say to her little friend, or any friend for that matter. I mean, how would one answer to that sort of question?

Nicky’s eyes dart from side to side. Even she doesn’t know what answer to expect. And so she changes the topic: “So…uhm…what would you prefer to be called then?”

To be continued…

Breathing has never been sweeter

It’s as easy to disappear as it is to reappear. Time has not gone faster and yet, I find it passing me by like clouds on a windy afternoon. 

Lately I’ve found that my dreams seem to be telling me something. They’re more waking dreams than nightmares. I dream about the everyday, the yesterday and sometimes, the week after. Weird, yes. Out of the ordinary? Not quite so. 

I find no reason to blame the classes for it. They have been inspiring, if not somewhat rejuvenating for my experience. Like a giggly schoolgirl all over again, I’m glad that I actually feel excited the night before every session.

I like it that it’s early.

I like it that I’ve almost never woken up this early before on a Sunday.

I like it that I’m getting acquainted with the little China Town that’s just 15km away.

I like the people in the class because I have yet to know anything about them – curiosity is a strong addiction.

I like it that I’m getting a second chance in life, to rethink my world, to renew my courage with my conscience. 

The struggle before had not been easy but I must say now that I was just too worried for my own good. 

Perhaps I was born to be one, but it doesn’t mean that I share all of their views. 

I am one, but I am also many, as was mentioned. 

I seem to relate better to the things I never gave another hoot about, and that completes me a little bit more. 

Of course, I’ve still been feeling jaded and whiny and all cranky for days on end. But it sure a relief to know that I am never alone, and that there are people out there who don’t know everything too. 

It’s not a crime to skip a few papers in a month. 

It’s not wrong to rename an Oscar-winning Hollywood actor. 

It’s okay to read comics and all kinds of no-brainer periodicals, because that’s where you grow the most in. 

It’s not easy, learning to let go. To shut that haunting tune out. And to leave memories as just memories. 

We all want to fall in love, have a great job, hopefully a good Boss, a fat salary, a loving husband, wonderful kids and now and then, reasonable new set of parents. Even if we only strike it rich with one, isn’t that fair all the same? 

To be thankful takes up a lot of strength on our pride. At the end of the day, we complain more than we compliment the world for the good job it has done to set us free. 

I’ve always thought that we only have one life to do it right. But the actual fact is, we’re livelier than the 9 lives of a kitty.

Everyday a small part of us dies. And yet, there’s enough will in us to cover this hole, this void and push us forward to another Tuesday, or Thursday or a public holiday that falls on a Saturday.

Tell me, where did all the youth go? Where is fun hiding now? Why do we leave it behind on a rollercoaster ride or a cotton candy stick? Why can’t we keep it in our pockets or sleeves and whip it out when we need a whiff of reality? 

Hard to grasp, but something painfully true – we’re born to be ungrateful. 

Or call us ’sinners with a cause’, if you like.

The “I” of which I know

Me, me and me.

It’s always just about me.

Even when the King of Pop leaves too soon, all I ever do is wonder why the world is so unfair.

To me.

I suppose it doesn’t help when everything reminds you of something.

Indeed, we all know our destinations. But it is the fear of where our journey leads us, that keeps us up at night.

We end up hurting the most, the ones that we love.

Indeed, she may seem perfect. But only to those whom will never really know her well enough.

And so, we have arrived at the issue of time.

Time is of the essence, they say. Apparently, not to everyone.

Over the course of the last few months, I have been more and more impatient at the meaning of time.

When time is a matter of life and death. When a minute is as good as a year if nothing can bring him back ever again.

Wasting your time, is really wasting my time too.

When you fail to make it sweet and simple,  I do not understand your logic to complicate an already complicated world as it is.

The great big problem is that many go through life wasting time at the expense of someone else’s. With no plans of keeping a solution, any kind of solution at hand, I suppose things can only lead to disaster.

But of course, that doesn’t give me the right to awaken Miss Rude or the old wench, Madam Sarcastic. Although sometimes, it’s just too tempting not to offer a verbal slap or two when someone very well deserves it.

Yes, I am growing old.

I no longer choose to just ‘let it go’ because you’re difficult. Because I know now that what goes around come around.

And what of the mother, who’s really too scared to be one?

Well, I guess she’ll waste more of someone else’s time then.

How about the sweetie, who wishes to cheat time by giving you a hand but does it all wrong? Whose time is accountable for that?

If I feel guilty for going mad, does that mean that my conscience implies that I was wrong to act that way?

Although everytime, I’d manage to find a reason for my blow-up.

It’s his fault.

He should have known.

She started it first.

Sometimes, my inner turmoil is much greater than the crises of the world.

In one second I could explode into a million black balloons.

In two, I could grind myself flat on the railway tracks.

I wish I could duck beneath the water. I wish I could stay there whenever I wanted to.

But even bottomless wells need a breather sometimes.

I’m on the outside

Here’s to a wonderful song. Just everything I need to say on a bright Thursday morning

People I know, places I go, make me feel tongue-tied
I can see how people look down, they’re on the inside
Here’s where the story ends

People I see, weary of me showing my good side
I can see how people look down
I’m on the outside
Here’s where the story ends
Ooh here’s where the story ends

It’s that little souvenir of a terrible year
which makes my eyes feel sore
Oh I never should have said, the books that you read
were all I loved you for
It’s that little souvenir of a terrible year
which makes me wonder why
And it’s the memories of your shed that make me turn red
Surprise, surprise, surprise

Crazy I know, places I go
make me feel so tired
I can see how people look down
I’m on the outside
oh here’s where the story ends
ooh here’s where the story ends

It’s that little souvenir of a terrible year
which makes my eyes feel sore
and who ever would’ve thought the books that you brought
were all I loved you for
oh the devil in me said, go down to the shed
I know where I belong
but the only thing I ever really wanted to say
was wrong, was wrong, was wrong

It’s that little souvenir of a colourful year
which makes me smile inside
so I cynically, cynically say, the world is that way
surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise
here’s where the story ends

Here’s where the story ends .

Like a willow bark

You can only see my eyes.

Wisps of hair breezes softly by. It’s the only movement in the dark of night.

And there’s this one place that I could stand for just one night.

Alone in my white dress. Cut short above the knees, with sleeves that bring out the child in me.

I am looking down but it is in front of me.

Here in these deep city lights
A girl could get lost tonight
I’m finding every reason to be gone
And there’s nothing here to hold on to
Could I hold you?

City ~ Sarah B

I can breathe in the world, but sometimes I can only taste the scent of the sea.

The buildings turn into a lighthouse and once again, I’m blinded by the beauty before me.

The seagulls aren’t crows. The waves aren’t roads.

But the boat, it’s sailing away like my heart.

The sun is setting all the same.

And I’m still standing here, above everyone else.

When the heart pushes through

Yesterday, I discovered that I am actually human after all.

That no, it wasn’t true that I did not have feelings.

No, I didn’t lose the ability to have feelings.

Beneath all those layers, I still have a beating heart. The tune may be a little different from some, but still, it is a heart all the same.

And with this heart, I am capable of love.

It’s just that sometimes, I wonder about this purpose that we’re all supposed to have.

I am a selfish person in nature, since my thoughts are only focused on thy self.

Although, most people surely do the same.

Indeed, I am in love with my own sins. Romanticizing the past, as they would say.

These days I have to ask: am I or am I not in love with myself? As in, am I only in love with myself?

Could that be the reason why I’m sometimes unhappy? Because I haven’t lived up to the expectations that I expect of myself?

Hmm. What a way to think of my life. Or my love life. Heh.

I once read this book that had a teenage girl character who would think of sex in the atoms and molecules and explosions of chemicals. She was always worried that her analytical skills would mean that she could never really enjoy something for what it was. But when she finally did it with someone she loved, she discovered that her mind didn’t once fly off to the physics or science.

So perhaps I am analyzing a lot of things, because I have not found my peace with life?

And so when I wonder why the clouds come in shapes, is it because I have not fully grasped the idea of rain and accumulation?

Bah. So many things to think about. And to think that I only have 24-hour memories to do it right.

Perhaps I should talk about the idea of time travelling now. I love time travelling stories! There is always a profound message to be found in every one, and not just because of its impossible nature but rather on what great lengths people would go through to just have one more chance in life.

The chance to finally do it right, as they would say.

But it is of course, the butterfly effect. Think you’re changing just your own? No way.

And sometimes, it’s not always about us. It’s about helping those around us cope better. If I could go back to that night and brought my dad back, it would be so that my mother could see things in a a different way. And for dad to have been able to know what it feels like, to hold his favourite daughter’s newborn in his arm. For my sister to remember that she still has a dad who loves her very much. For my brother to know that if he ever did decide to come back, a father would be waiting with open arms.

Life is simply life because it’s never perfect. If we had a chance to turn back time, the more things change, the more things stay the same.

I am still wondering if the heart or the mind is harder to read.

Alas, I can hear both of them shouting “me, me!”

Yin of the Yang

Evil is always more apparent than the Saint.

Even in the dark, things are clearer than when it’s bright.

We all see the negative because there is nowhere else to look.

If only I could remember how I was before. When everything was happy, cheery and always looking up. Now I am only drowned in sorrow for the misery that has yet to come, if it ever does.

Now I cannot see another face without thinking of its heart. I cannot look into another pair of eyes without wondering of its depths.

I cannot look up at the clouds and not wonder if it will rain.

I am always anticipating the worst before it ever comes near. Perhaps, to better shield myself when the time calls for it.

And so when I get a chance to be by myself, I only know how to do what my heart tells me to.

I still can’t tell the difference between my heart and yours.

It seems that only words from a melody and tunes of a song can reach out to me.

This great big flatness makes me feel like an old boot being pulled along by an everlasting wave, dipping in and out of the ocean.

If you asked, sometimes it feels like I’m lying. When you don’t feel anything at all, what does it mean? When you’re on the fence. When you don’t know why but somehow, someday, somewhere you used to know.

Maybe that’s how you feel too. Drifting from one to the next without ever really knowing what you’re looking for.

Being undecided is almost like making a bad decision. To hog the road, or to make a wrong turn? Hopelessly hopeless.

I often wonder, where did this part of me go? When did I lose it? Why didn’t I notice when it left? Why didn’t I realize that it might never come back?

Perhaps, it can be syphoned down to a lack of trust. In life. In all that it has to offer.

I trust that the bad will do me more good than good.

Is it because I have no depth to my personality, that I have created this split person, just so I can feel more special?

Perhaps I am just 2 dimensional. Just another of the ordinary. Plain. Like that lily waving in the wind that I used to talk about all the time.

Perhaps, that is just a survival skill that I have yet to master.

I attract trouble like a breeze. Sometimes I just ask for it because my life is too damn monotonous.

Sometimes I don’t know where it is that I want to be. Sometimes I take on another’s dream just to show that I am not indecisive.

But is it so bad to not know where you’re headed? Is it so bad to crave for surprises, to wish that sometimes things just doesn’t have to be planned?

Is it so bad if I wanted to slow down and smell the soup? Why do I always have to be afraid that others will get to the food first?

I still wish I could make my own decisions. To be a child and not care that my decisions after another. To be selfish, to want what I want that no one else cares about.

I guess we all have our complaints. But life isn’t so bad after all, is it?

Nobody knows how things will turn out.

Is the term ‘true happiness’ really a fallacy? Maybe, just maybe, there’s no such thing.

We’re happy, but how do you define being truly happy? I mean, what the hell makes someone truly happy? Is it when you’re happier now than before? How would I know if I will be even happier later, when I can’t even remember how happiness used to be like?

Sometimes, we all need a fresh start. To not constantly face our mistakes and talk about it. To look away and hope for the best.

Who wouldn’t sing for me now
And who wouldn’t have done all of that
Looks like I’ve been a friend to nobody
And now I couldn’t lead you home
Believe – Mandalay.

The little things that I wish for, perhaps only I would know. Everything I touch turns into dirt eventually. Just an uncanny ability to bring out the worst in life.

For I am sad not of what’s out there, but what’s in here.

For I know perfection isn’t me

If everyone acknowledged their own imperfections, would there be no war?

I could take note of all those times I made a boo boo on the road. Perhaps I would honk less. Give way more often.

For all the times I preferred to talk and be in the centre of attention. Perhaps, I would be more willing to share my time with those who crave for the spotlight.

Not having gone further than I should have, I do remember the many times I led another woman’s man to believe that I was worth another look. Perhaps, I will say less of those who do the same.

If only I blamed others less and told myself to do more to make things right, things might actually turn out right.

Sometimes, we only have to look within ourselves to find the answer. When there is no truth in this world, the decision you make doesn’t have to answer to anybody but yourself.

If you want something, just do it.

Life is unsettling if even you can’t answer for yourself.

Where has all the joy gone?

In enjoying a good dinner.

In playing with a cute little puppy.

In watching your favourite ladies on screen.

In sleeping on the most comfortable bed you’ve ever had.

In reading the kookiest book that took you your whole life to find.

In watching a scary movie that kept your adrenaline fresh and young.

In zipping around in your own still brand new car and being a pro at that.

I don’t even take the time to reflect on how happy I am everyday. The only reason that I have for this, or rather, the only excuse for this, is that I absolutely have no time for it.

I wake up everyday fighting to stay awake.

I try to keep my cool every other hour, because I think I’m just too damn good for this world. Sheesh.

How can I expect change, when I am struggling with it?

My only consolation, is that I don’t have to do it alone.

*hugs handsome O*

I’m not waiting for the world to change

Why am I so angry all the time?

Perhaps, you’re expecting a little more from what life has to offer.

I mean, I only have myself to take care of and I do the best that I can. But sometimes, I have to clear up the mess that others leave behind. Totally unfair!

As cliched as it is, life is unfair. Life is unpredictable when you expect it to be so. Many have talked about curve balls being thrown out of the blue, and it’s true. The world doesn’t revolve only around you, and that’s what you have to remember sometimes.

I guess I just don’t see why others can live comfortably even by being selfish, lazy and inconsiderate. That their children can be like them too, and still not suffer from any direct consequences.

I’m sure you must’ve heard about how the concerns of a rich man are quite similar to that of a poor one? Both will have money worries. One will worry about losing his money. The other will worry about how he’s gonna get more money to survive. Everyone suffers in their own way. Some problems may be external while others lie within.

So you are saying that, eventhough they live a simple life of wanting a 9 to 5 job or act like they are 10 years younger from their actual age, it doesn’t mean their lives are perfect in other aspects? That in their own eyes they too see and recognize their flaws, but only in private?

Yes. Some may not be very good at fixing flaws while others may be in denial. But it doesn’t mean that they do not spend at least one minute of everyday worrying about how they’re gonna make it through another day by being who they’ve always known themselves to be. They may get a sudden flash of inspiration to change, some may get many opportunities to truly change, but how many will take on the challenge, the hard work, the unknown road? They can put on a cheeky face and you can call them a Smart Alec, or they can be sarcastic and you call them condescending, but we do not have the right to say that they lead better lives than us although they are imperfect.

Right. So I am cynical because I choose to see only the dark of every side. It’s hard when all the beauty of the world seems to be buried somewhere far away and deserted.

Of course, nobody is asking you to wear your rose-tinted glasses all the time. Just know where and when to put them on. Perhaps you could try to look away in the face of evil instead of confronting it. We all need masks to protect ourselves. Give more at times but don’t forget to hold back too.

When others don’t change but I do, to solve my inner turmoil, does that help me adapt better to the world?

In a way it certainly does. Leave others to live with themselves. If they are annoying, imagine how their wives or husband would feel, having to see them everyday. If someone doesn’t take their job seriously, put in extra effort in yours. But remember, it’s not to show them how to do it right, but rather, to show the voice within you that you prefer yourself this way. If you meet parents who do not bother to ensure that their children stay out of mischief, say nothing to the kids but something to your own in the future. Yes, to each his own. For every mistake the world makes, do something extra right for yourself and those you care about.

For every mistake the world makes, do something extra right for yourself and for those you care about. Indeed.

Expect with respect

The world we live in is predictable. Simply because everything is expected to be logical, practical, real.

Imagine, if we could never be sure if the next rain brought sardines or mackerel, fish or frogs instead of plain ol’ acid rain.

Perhaps the backyard, the one we sometimes call our garden, might lead into a forest where mysterious beings await your arrival. 10 years, a hundred years, a million years they’d wait. And when you do come, they will bring you into a small city not much different from the last one you familiarized yourself with, only that it is much quieter, with a lot less people and conversations.

In real life, we question all that we see or hear. There is a lack of imagination because we refuse to accept anything that we can’t yet grasp. We joke but we can’t take jokes u-turned back to us. We praise our people yet  let slip crude remarks on foreign entertainers who are in essence, just doing their job.

Words are just loud noise when there is no love. My favourite line. Coz’ you can just take a look around you, listen to the superior who talks and thinks that everyone else is inferior, or the brat who wants to finish her job before you do because she has coincidentally decided to go on leave when there is work to be done.

Of course, we can’t expect love to be generous, or us to be generous with love. In fact, too much love has often been linked to the idea of being with a pushover. Say yes everytime and you’re bound to get in trouble. Say no, and you’ve got no love. Nobody wins sometimes.

We forget who we are simple because we are too absorbed in telling others who they should be. I am not the son you never had, or the daughter yours will never be. I am me, and if you have trust, I will then have faith.

Do not expect of me what you do not expect of yourself. Expect, with respect.

It’s been a long while, but I must say that these marshmallows now taste different. Perhaps, I am no longer the child I always thought I was. Through the pain and beneath the hardened sky, I have grown a little taller inch by inch. No magic mushrooms to help me reach those stars. Just me, and my conscience.

Prophecies are just that. Somehow, our mind tells us to turn everything we hear into the truth. Mind over matter, they say. Fear is contagious. And its most dangerous victim is the mind. Facings up to our fears is really just an oxymoron.

There is no longer time for us to think before we act. Although the world has made it appear as an advantage to act before it thinks.

Everyone wants a piece of action to get even more attention. From the guy who hurries the waiter because the cook is late to the married man who’s proud of his hangovers from late Sunday drinking nights. These are guys with gals on their side and still they turn to you for a response after they’ve made an impaired judgement on simple human language.

Ask if you do not understand, even in the face of the devil. Ask about hell even if you have no desire to go there. Having more knowledge is always an advantage, even though all you ever think of is heaven. Don’t say ‘okay’ when it’s not. Nothing’s difficult, if you would only try.

Do bad drivers have bad personalities then? If they drive slowly and hog the road, are they inconsiderate colleagues who aren’t afraid to share ideas or a finished project at their own pace? Are they people who think they’re always right, and frown at those who honk at their ridiculous antics?

Sometimes I look through my msn list and try to find someone to talk to. Not just anyone who wants to have real conversations. But someone who doesn’t mind talking about the other side of the world. All that it could be. To complain and not be afraid of being whiny. To just speak your mind and have others respond. Thankfully, I do have one friend who never fails to be in and then out of the scene in a snap. We don’t have to set up the mood or let our conversations trail off into a natural end. We just say what we want and press enter enter enter on a letter if the other side doesn’t respond. Life is simple, if you like it that way.

Funny enough, we get to know people by learning about their pasts. Some may not want to share, and therefore, never get any invitations to even the simplest of lunch outings. Everyone is different, unique, interesting because of who else they can be other than the person standing in front of you. The funniest stories are usually of those when we were young and naive.

Some can make up histories to gild their path into another’s heart, but adds no value to the relationship or to his own conscience. Saying you were a tough kid on the street might surprise many for the sweet looking boy they know, but in the end, we all know you only want pity or an excuse for the mistakes you are about to do.

There are some people whom I’d wish to erase from my past. Just point, rub and voila, far away in Mars. Not so much for who they were, but how you were unfortunately linked to them.

I wish taking a shower could literally cleanse us of our past and all the broken glasses we’ve left behind.