Him and Her.

Him

I am looking at her. She seems so happy, smiling and laughing. She’s telling me what she promised a long time ago to tell. I watch as her mouth moves. I listen to her girly voice half giggling the tale. She stops. I laugh. It was so funny. I told her so. I laugh harder. She laughs a little. Watches me. From the edge of my vision, I see a faraway look in her eyes. Almost sad. I can’t pinpoint what it is. But the look in her eyes hurt. I ask her, does she have more to tell. She tells me another one. I laugh again. This time harder. She giggles a little and looks away. I could tell something was wrong, but I didn’t dare prod into her thoughts. I know she will tell me nothing is wrong and tease my paranoia. I am not paranoid. She’s different now. Then we fall silent. I fill in the deafening silence by telling her of my adventures. She laughs. I see distance in her eyes. I don’t see the soul in her. I try harder to push that feeling away. I try to be close to her. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t react. She’s comfortable. Right? Is she? I lean in. She does not budge. She seems unhappy at points. She gives me a reason, or was it an excuse? I agree with her. She’ll come around. I need to give her time. But she’s indifferent. Like she doesn’t care. Did she stop caring? No. Stop. Stop thinking.

Her

Oh. It’s you. Okay. I’ll reply you eventually. Let me do some reading. Fine. I’ll reply. He’s here. Okay. Sure. I look at you. He’s all smiling and happy. It seemed like he never cared in the first place. I wondered why I did. I watch his every move. It doesn’t seem beautiful to me. Not anymore. His voice, no longer sound caressing. I can’t smell him anymore. I know I’m bleeding inside, but I’m numb really. I can’t feel anything. I gauge him. His actions. For once. I didn’t care. I couldn’t sympathise with him. I no longer smile when he smiles. It’s different. I try not to feel like this. I wished it was back like how it was. Before everything happened. I watched him speak. Hear his laughter. My thoughts drift. I feel sad. It’s all gone. What I thought was special, no longer there. I sigh inside. Pretended it’s not there. I’d rather him stop talking sometimes. I feel the distance between us. A permanent ice wall. Unable to thaw. Not with the heat from your side. Made thicker by the icy coldness from mine. I pray he doesn’t see my indifference. I hope that he will be like how he always is. Caught up in his business and not mindful of others.

-the end -

I tried to capture the thoughts of two different people with two different personalities. I don’t think I managed to do it though. I tried my BEST!! not really. But i did put in some effort in this. In a way. Spent an afternoon thinking how to put this down. so yeah.

Keys

Well, this was a title that my friend gave me awhile back. I have been working on it for awhile, put it aside and been working on it for a couple days now. I got an inkling on what I thought was suitable for this. Anyways, here goes nothing.

Have you ever hear the sound of the piano? He said to me in a soft whisper. I shook my head in denial.

He smiled, a smile that in years to come, I look for in a crowd. Placed his hands on my shoulder and guided my away from the piano. Said, It’s okay. Just like that, our exchange slid off into the air. Lingering.

I was 5 then. I would never forget that day. I never thought that that one small insignificant conversation would one day alter the very course of my life. It seemed as mystical and real as it did then as it does now.

I remembered the first time I heard my teacher play the piano.  Looking wide eyed from a 4 feet tall frame, I thought she was the most beautiful and magnificent creature in my small world. Feeling empowered and on top of the world, I boast to my mom. Mommy! I want to learn the piano!  I coerced her, cajoled her until she gave in. With that I embarked on a journey that I never imagined possible. No in a million years.

I gradually learnt the sound of the keys, the tinkling, the hums, the pull, the skip, I learnt how the sound resonating from it could show devout love, how it could emanate cold difference, even passionate anger.  Just with the simplistic arrangement of notes, dynamics and rhythm. The piano, my music became my solace. It became the source of my happiness. The source of my peace. Through music I have communicated my resounding pain, my unwavering happiness and all those tiny emotions that I have ever felt. I loved it. I loved the liberation it gave me.

Unbeknownst to me, the very thing that liberated me, was the very one thing that I was enslaved to. It came to light, when one day, when platters of emotions were shoved in my face with no music to release me. No piano to help me express my sordid ugly anger and disappointment. I couldn’t, like others, curl up into a ball and weep. There was no release, there was no outlet. I was desperate. I was edgy, I was shaking. I shook with fear, with every ounce of my being. Every cell desperate for release. It was impossible.

I placed my heart and my soul in the music I played. Without music, I am an empty vessel. Hollow.

It took me many more turbulent years to pick myself up. I learnt to live without my definition. I learnt to be my own definition. I learnt to be on my own. I create music.

-The End-

Okay, this post I know, it’s quite depressing. I haven’t been able to write anything humourous or witty. It seemed to have been escaping me. I’ll get to that again once I get a whiff of an idea again. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this.

Great………

I have 16 drafts. I checked. It is actually piling up. I have had people telling me to keep them and work on it. I also have had people who tell me I should just delete it. I am however, still at a loss of what I am going to do with it. I will be a little personal today. Pfft. As if this isn’t personal already. Anyways, it’s been a long long time since I published anything, so I figured why not start with the simplest thing in the world.

Do you know how it feels like to be so helpless in a situation that all you can do is watch and throw your hands in the air? Do you know how it feels like to after so long finally give up trying to piece everything together? Have you ever felt so frustrated to only find that you are numb later? Do you know how it feels like to care so much till you don’t care anymore? Do you know how it feels like when you tell someone about every minute details in your life to ignore the elephant in the room? Have you ever felt so afraid of losing the very thing you found that you’d much prefer pushing them away instead? (okay, that’s rubbish)

Okay. It’s official. I got nothing. This is the reason why I haven’t been able to churn out proses in awhile. It’s so difficult. I have had so much to talk about. But nothing seems to stick. It leaves as soon as it comes. Making me an empty vessel. Like Tin.

The Old and The New

Today’s post would differ from the normally reflective ones. Well, I highly doubt that it will differ. I would however, try to be as realistic as I can.

While having a decent lunch, I saw the most beautifully heartbreaking sight in a long time. A man fishing. Net fishing. In the middle of KL. In between Bangsar and Gardens. I watched the man, clad in blue shorts with a white bag dangling from his hip, nimbly, he carried a fishing net, carefully treading the eroding cement wall. He cast his net. I watched the fishing net splashing onto the water surface. Gradually sinking into the river. Effortlessly, he pulled the net back onto the surface. There was no catch. He walked upstream repeating the his actions. Tirelessly casting and retrieving the net. I felt as equally proud of the man as I felt pity. No one deserves to fish in the river in the middle of a metropolitan. No Man, should resort to the old ways in a new city. But this man, unperturbed, made it seem like he had been doing it all his life. Seemed to have no care about the world around him, yet all at the same time, seem to be carrying the burden of the world on his shoulder.

He reminded me that everything could be simple.

I wondered, how many mouths he had to feed? How many are there at home who loves him? Who knows the sacrifices he made? How he toiled the way others do not to bring food onto the table? I prayed, for that one moment, that everyone in the restaurant would love him. The way I did, in that one small moment, my heart went out to him. I loved him.

I felt small, I felt ashamed. I was sitting in a restaurant. He was fishing for dinner. He humbled me.

I thought of simpler times, when my grandmother would bring us fishing, just the way that man was fishing now. How, like him, she would also cast her net into the river. I remember the joy of a catch. Before the fights, before all the pain and feud settled in. Before all the complication. It was so simple. Running barefoot with the wind in my hair. Without a care in the world. Showing all around me my love for them. No longer. Everything stopped. No. Changed. I digress. Slowly, on his feet, he made his way out of my sight. Not knowing how he changed the way I saw the world. Not knowing how much He impacted me.

Helen and the Pain she Caused.

Today’s post was inspired from what I watched the other day on Youtube, I can’t seem to find it now. I might just ask my friend. She might just remember. I unfortunately have memory issues. I know though it was something about Joseph Gordon Levitt.

Anyways, here’s what I thought of doing..

Hey.

Hey.

What are you up to?

Nothing much. Just trying to enjoy this cuppa joe.

Ah. How is the café here by the way?

It’s fine. Not as good as the one down the street.

I see. How have you been?

I’ve been fine. Been coping you know. With work and all.

True. Do you mind?

No. I don’t go ahead. Take a seat. Order something if you must.

I’m cool. I have my water bottle.

On one of your diets again aren’t you?

I’m not. I’m just sticking to water for now. It’s healthier.

If you say so.

Hey…

Hmmm…?

Tell me the truth? How are you holding up?

I told you before I’m fine.

What about Helen?

Don’t talk about her. Don’t mention her name. Don’t. Ever.. You get it?

Okay. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s just that… I’m worried you know. You haven’t been yourself lately.

I told you. I am fine. Now go. Leave me alone.

You sure?

Yeah.

I’m sure. Go. I need time to think.

—

THE END.

i thought i’d cut down on the theatrics this time. Make it more along the lines of life’s normality. A simple conversation between two people. I hope that personalities could be derived just from this short conversation. Or script between 2 people. Happy Reading!!

Simplicity.

Today’s one, well, the second one, I would write, to pass time. I have something to say. But Words fail me. So I figured, simplicity. That’s how I would deal with this.

 

I choke. I can’t breathe. I try hard. It hurts. I can’t do this. This is new. I don’t know this pain. The hurt that drifts in and out of my soul. The Loss is too great. I can’t hold it in my hands. I can’t keep it in my heart. It’s too small.

Go away. Leave me be. Let me live. You trap me. My pain traps me. Holds me in a cage. Binds me and Blinds me.

No. Don’t go. Don’t ever leave. I can’t bear this. I am lost. I will be lost. You found me but I turned from you.

You bear the cuts that I gave. I know your hurt. I see your hurt. I feel your hurt. You’re gone. You left before I did.

I guess Its time. To let go of what was once dear.

 

the end.

 

Turned out more depressing that I thought that It would be. Anyways, It’s short and simple enough I hope.

Don’t blame fate. Blame Me.

I held you in my arms. For the first time in my life. I knew, it was the end.

I see you. I feel you. Every single time you are around. I just wasn’t looking.

Your voice was like silk to my ears. Like having silk caressing my skin. Your touch was light, like feather. Fleeting and floating.  Thoughts of you, like your touch, your voice, seems to be a distant far away memory. Discontent fills me to the brim. I lost you before Chance fell on my lap. Perhaps, I dusted it off my thighs. Not knowing the meaning it represents. Not realizing that it would ultimately rip my innocence off me. Was it for the best? Or was it meant to break me?

So simply allowing you to flow right through my fingers, just like water. Slowly trickling onto the pavement. You were never easy to contain. Fate drove us apart. Saddened, with ice in my eyes, I vowed that I would no longer subject myself this torture. Easier said than done. With temptation just within the reach of my fingertips, So beautiful, yet so tragic, I would – with my cold melted heart- wound my fingers around my past mistakes.

Forgotten pasts, of which only scars remain. Shallow, almost invisible. It bleeds beneath the surface of it all. Constant pain without a true source. Anger without a cause. Those distinct blurry memories with unknown roots would -for many days to come- elicit ensued silence from me. Frustrated and Confused. Unable to trace an explanation for this irrational sensitivity.

As fate would have it. Soon before long, Words that were left unsaid between drove us off the cliff.

You too, became a distant recurring memory that I would love to forget.

the end.

Finally! After so long! Something that somewhat, but not entirely what I aimed to write. I decided to write this with a sort of detachment, hoping that came through. As if, recalling a memory. That someone chose to forget. Not what I expected though, since I wrote this with no story line or direction. I just let words take me for a ride. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it!! :D

Explanations and Truths

The inability to complete any form of writing is to me torturous. Vital thoughts and emotions constantly circling my mind. Drowning me with its  massive content. Thoughts that are so obviously misplaced and mistakenly filed; floating aimlessly disrupting the natural course of things in my mind. I need it to be able to be in the form of words on a blank white page. This is no longer possible. Private thoughts should be always kept private. Away from the cause of those initial thoughts. Give me my privacy back. Let me write without caution. It’s my diary that I put forth to the public. In forms of fiction and ramblings. These are words I never speak. I do not confide. My personal thoughts. It’s been in me for far too long. I do not seek opinions. I just do not need judgement. I just need a place to lay my head.

Give me a chance to lean on you again. I miss that feeling. I really do.

Just give me some time to heal.

Purification… I guess??

Took me awhile to tackle this word. First thing that gushed into mind was an owl, bonfires and naked men and women. Let’s instead, try a different approach.

They always said that to know someone, you must learn their rhythm, their melody, their beat. To some, it is the way they speak. Their eloquence, their pronunciation, their punctuation. To others, it is through their emotions. Their expressions, their neutrality and how they hide it all. It is everything.

No one was told the price of it all; Loving them.

For days and nights, I listened to you. I waited for you. Hoping that you are looking into me the way I am looking into you. Wishing that you’d care more than I know you do.

You glow, have I ever told you how much you glowed? How your face lights up as that smile creeps up along your face.

Woman! What do you think you’re doing?  I said, prodding your cheeky-ness.

What? What? What? I’m not doing anything!!  You replied nervously, as if someone caught you stealing a cookie.

I shrugged and walked off, perked by curiosity, you would always catch up with me. Innocently trotting along, hands clasped behind you. Then prudently, would start poking me when I paid no heed to you. Attention seeker.

At times, I would give anything to shake you. So you’d just for once, look at me. The way you refuse to. I wish for the courage to hold you. Courage for you to not shy away. You closed me off. You were once open to me. Like a flower in bloom. How beautiful it was. Head hanging, I would apologise to you endlessly, but we both know, it’s not enough is it now?  sorry-s would not suffice. Still waters run deep. You’re frozen.

I would hold you. Tell you time and time again. How sorry I am. But it will never change the past.

The End.

Oh Mi Gosh! I don’t know what I am writing. I totally diverted from the initial plans I had with this. It is total crap. Too much random thoughts in my mind. Mostly about wine. Anyways. Oh ya, and a word of warning, Initially, it was a girls voice, then I decided to change it last minute. Thus, altering the whole composition and flushing everything down the drain.

Good Luck Reading!!

Thoughts.

It’s ugly. What I saw. Was so utterly ugly, it was almost beautiful. What am I doing?

I am banking on my theory. My previous theory. That I am right.

What is going on?

Deep down inside, I am always right. But also so so very wrong at the same time.

I am hungry.

I want to be held. Simply held. I don’t want to be touched. Just held.

I wished I never looked back at you that way. I wish I never stopped myself.

Why can’t I express myself? Truly let myself feel? I wish I would just for one day, be human. With human emotions.

So so sleepy. Tired and sleepy.

I can’t cry. I will not cry. What is crying anyways.

Ends at 0210hours.

 

For once, instead of stories, I wrote raw thoughts. I decided. Why not? For once.