Friday, July 31, 2009

Little things.

For hurting you, I'm sorry.
For saying the things I said, I'm sorry.
For not saying the things that needed saying, I'm sorry.

For keeping you awake one too many nights, I'm sorry.
For holding you back from all the things you wanted to do, I'm sorry.
For sticking around like a leech foolishly thinking you enjoyed my company, I'm sorry.

For always acting up like a small kid throwing tantrums, I'm sorry.
For being mean without meaning to, I'm sorry.
For all my insensitivities, I'm sorry.

For failing to notice those silent words you leave hanging heavy in the cold night air, I'm sorry.
For failing to see those small gestures you make, I'm sorry.
For being so clueless, I'm sorry.

For not being the friend I should have been, I'm sorry.

For being me.....
I'm really sorry.

I'll leave you to your space now.
May you find happiness in places i don't exist.

(and no Abah, this is not a sad post. It's a revelation; way overdue)

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Nemesis

I'm seething with anger as I am typing this.
My head hurts; My mouth feels coppery with the unmistakable taste of annoyance; And my eyes sting with what i can only suspect to be the start of angry tears.
..................................................................................

It's not a secret that we can't stand each other's presence.

I feel he is guilty of making generalized, sweeping judgements of me without getting to know me first; that he has fallen very deep into that unforgiving trap of poorly concluded first impressions.

A grave crime indeed!

And yet, at the same time I am also acutely aware that I am as guilty as he is of the same crimes i accuse him of.

I can still distinctly remember taking that one long look at his air of confidence, his expensive clothes, and detecting his lilting American accent when we first met 3 years ago. I decided quite promptly that he was a spoilt, rich brat who would shower his dad's money around on the ladies and smooth-talk them into becoming his pets.

He probably also took one swift look at me and decided just as quickly that I was nothing more than another typical, conservative, boring Malay girl with a typical closed-minded view of the world; every bit unworthy of his precious time and wealth.

What we both failed to realize in these 3 years is that it wasn't our differences that kept biting the back of our throats like a sore ulcer, it's our similarities! We're just too proud, too egotistical, too headstrong, too similar in too many ways that it has become extremely hard for us to get along in a civil manner.

But even with this open hostility between us, I used to find some small comfort in knowing that he won't be so petty as to go around spreading false stories about me like wildfire behind my back. I believed he wasn't that kind of guy. Hating each other as much as we do, we're still friends (somewhat). And friends don't stab each other in the back (especially not with mutual friends as partners in crime).

That's what i believed.

Until just recently when that simple truth that gives me what little comfort it can has come crashing down on me like a tide of tsunami waves.

He has done the unforgivable! The inexcusable!

He has done the one thing that has kept me from hating him with a vengeance. He has broken that chain of fake civility which has held us animatedly suspended in an unsteady balance between good and evil, friends and foes for the longest of times. He has shaken the very core of our already shaky friendship.

With that, I fall freely into an abyss of unsuppressed hatred and loathing and he will now be my eternal nemesis, forever bound to my cruelty.

So there.

..................................................................................

I am aware of all the contradictions embodied in my writing tonight.
But you probably don't, so it doesn't matter.

p/s: I don't really hate him. I'm just sad that he hates me. ='(

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Nightmares

.... are metaphors gone feral.

The imaginative power of man twisted into something very akin to science fiction, horror films, and mental delusions.

Nights like this, I've come to distrust even my most lucid waking moments because reality seems hyperdefined, overbright, unreal, punctuated by sprinklings of hallucinatory clarity. A disturbing blur of something menacing.

Living alone in a big house is creepy like that.

Sometimes, i hear weird noises late at night. I tell my online friend this and he says it's just the house settling. Soil movements, truck rumbling by....

"Earthquake?" i tried to be helpful.

"No. not earthquakes...its just the building stumps having small settlements into the ground. It's perfectly normal," he tries to assure me.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

"A little," i admitted.

"You should invite your friends over for a pajama party or something."

I restrained myself from telling him i have no friends. People don't particularly like me. They think I'm a nuisance. They think I'm insufferable. They think I talk too much.

I don't really blame them tho. After all, it's normal for people to keep a safe distance away from weirdos. Especially the ones who live alone in big, old, creepy houses.

Ones like me.

"Pajama party? Nah!! I have YOU to keep me company! You, who miraculously appear unannounced on my computer screen once every blue moon," i joked.

"Honey, I'm virtual. I'm not real."

But you're a calming presence nonetheless, i whisper to myself. Until he says he's off to dinner, take care, see ya later.

And I'm left alone.

Again.

The noises gets louder.

So I turn the music up a notch. It keeps the eerie sounds at bay, and make the neighbours gravely unhappy.

I'm sorry, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to cast the nightmares away~

Thursday, July 2, 2009

My Last

.... hour at home. ='(

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Such an occasion demands a good farewell, carved permanently onto rocks and stones, written in blood and rust, with teardrops to seal the deal.

Yet I've been staring at my computer screen for 2 hours now, and still nothing i type on my old keyboard comes out right.

No sweet poetry to wash me away.
No melancholic music filling my head.

No nothing!

*****************************************

I guess, in times like this, the sorely lacking mortal language of man is not adequate to express how i feel inside.

So, I'll leave it at that.