and i don’t know what has come over me; these days when writing for literature, words don’t seem to flow, ideas have to be yanked out and structure has to be analysed; i’m not writing my style of writing and all that are coming out are letters joined to letters, not words, not sentences, not anything. it came with paper 1, discreetly, silent, creeping, and in paper 5 and 8, it affected me in its full throes. nothing could have prepared me for the turmoil of thoughts that raced through my empty brain – fuck, what do i write, what can i write. amidst other thoughts, thoughts of losing, thoughts of departure, and thoughts of closure.
and when i read cuifen’s post, the delicateness of words and sentences come back to hit me, and haunt me again, over and over.
what the fuck can i say man.
“it’s the people you love the most who can hurt you the most. and when that happens there’s just so much pain that it makes you want to burst, and you want to hurt the one who’s done this to you. except that for the emotions to run that strongly it must have been a very very deep wound indeed, and the only ones who could have made it are the ones you love the most. so it goes, in a vicious cycle of love and hate.” – cuifen
at this moment in time, nothing can describe the maelstorm of emotions raging within me better than this.
so what happened in the then and now? only you have the answer.
4 more days to abject freedom.
fingerprint smears on your computer screen come to life in the dark of the night with no lights on but that of the monitor’s.
transclucent/purple/blue glistening in a downward spiral; you did think it was an epiphany.
introspection/retrospection of the previous post. numbers and figures, numbers and figures. neh neh neh. slap yourself pak.
i stood under the tap for ten minutes before warm water finally came out.
i played the scientist eight times in a row.
i reached the age of eighteen and its the end of the road for me.
Nicholas:
She never really had a chance
On that fateful moonlit night
Sacrificed without a fight
A victim of her circumstance
Now that I’ve become aware
And I’ve exposed this tragedy
A sadness grows inside of me
It all seems so unfair
I’m learning all about my life
By looking through her eyes
Just beyond the churchyard gates
Where the grass is overgrown
I saw the writing on her stone
I felt like I would suffocate
Inloving memory of our child
So innocent, eyes open wide
I felt so empty as I cried
Like part of me had died
I’m learning all about my life
By looking through her eyes
And as her image
Wandered through my head
I wept just like a baby
As I lay awake in bed
And I know what it’s like
To lose someone you love
And this felt just the same
She wasn’t given any choice
Desperation stole her voice
I’ve been given so much more in life
I’ve got a son, I’ve got a wife
I had to suffer one last time
To grieve for her and say goodbye
Relive the anguish of my past
To find out who I was at last
The door has opened wide
I’m turning with the tide
Looking through her eyes
Through Her Eyes – Dream Theater
and these days there has been a marked regression of the person i was a year ago, of hates, moods and depression.
(but it never did go away did it.)
———————
the moment this damned exam ends, i swear i will go on retail therapy and buy the sandman poster i saw today together with a plethora of books and at least a single gundam model – it has been so long since i last built one. and i will finish the unfinished books lying on my shelf – unbearable lightness of being, eating fire, oryx and crake, cat’s eye, brave new world, book of laughter and forgetting, cat’s eye, portrait of artist as a young man, portrait of an artist as an old man, the lovely bones, fascist rock, the autograph man and the beastly tales; what you don’t complete comes back to haunt you.
———————-
and i think i’m a person of hopes and dreams who would willingly choose to override all sense of rationality that my inherent self chooses to put up; i received a parcel from york this morning, and i chose to see what i saw. “You have received the offer of a place to read English at York.” what i didn’t see, a combination of morning/noon hangover with my refusal to give up hope that i would be able to go overseas was that the letter was addressed on the 11th June 2003. if i were to be accorded the letter, it would be 2004. i called janice, mr burge and charmaine in a moment of euphoria and hope, but halfway through the list, after what mr burge saw as surreal, i had to come back to earth, and realise that it was just a parcel to provide me with more information.
really, you ought to stop dreaming.
You are Orange.
You are outgoing and optomistic. You always try to
find the bright spot in everything. You are
energetic and people are naturally attracted to
you. However, you are not always sure of what
your purpose or goals are.
Most Compatible With: Fresh Mint
Which Tic-Tac Flavor Are You?
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when i was young it was the only sweet i wanted. and didn’t get.
