Fiel

I'm trying very hard to find a solid reason why I keep coming back to this place. Why I keep revisiting this one issue, challenge. And why sometimes when I do, I can easily brush it aside, while at other times it can crumble me into a messed pile on the couch.

Maybe it's true...

I suppose what we see, what we hear, what we witness bears some weight to what we decide. And yes, while we may have made a decision once before, the world doesn't stay still and as such, pathways and futures in tandem, do not stay the same either. 

Maybe two is better than one...

If for nothing else that the last month has shown me, it would be that life is short and I am wondering if I am letting my life waste away, waiting for circumstances to come back into favour, waiting for control to be gained once again.

Everything you do and words you say
You know that it all takes my breath away
And now I'm left with nothing

Yet, if I were to truly examine it from all points - I can't really say that I am wasting my life away. If anything, I have never been more in control of what I want and going after it. And while I would love to take absolute credit for it, I know I cannot say for certain that without my all-spark, I wouldn't be here.

But there's so much time, to figure out the best in my life
And you've already got me coming undone

There is a Spanish saying: Si quiero ser fiel a alguien o algo, primero debo ser fiel a mi mismo ~ To be faithful to someone or something, first I must be faithful to myself. And if I were to follow that saying, then I must admit that I have already made my decision - so long ago. And because I don't know how to deal with missing a piece of me, I go round  the mulberry bush, finding a ruse to disguise it.

Perhaps rather than muddling the issue, I should just look it straight in the eye and face it for it really is. Two is really not better than one. You don't have to tell me that. I know.

When I close my eyes and drift away
I think of you and everything's okay

So this is the last we'll hear of this, in this fashion. Making it count with those who count is what makes it all worth it.

And finally now, believing that
I can't live without you...

Okay... I can do this.

Keep On Walking

"You should update your blog more," Mandy wrote last week in our daily GoogleTalk conversations. And I know why she said what she said. For indeed, the Shooter has been silent, despite so many things taking place. Things that in the past, I would scramble to the nearest computer to write down.

But things are not quite the same anymore is it? For starters, it occurred to me - we've not had the phrase "dark and twisted" suffice in any of the postings for a long while now. And all the booze in the house that were here 3 months ago, are still here - in the exact same quantities they were last touched at.

While it is all good, it also scares me. Scares me that I have chosen to keep my words and thoughts, choosing to share its deepest darkness with only one. And one whose perspectives and opinions differ so vastly from mine. Yet the difference is so complimentary, I no longer find any relief in merely putting my thoughts down, here or anywhere else.

It used to be that we would have some normalcy in the craziness of the world. But those times have grown so far and few in between - I have gone from counting the days in the week to counting the Sundays in a month. And lately, my state has been so drained, I cannot find even the mental energy to do any counting. And his state has been so drained that he doesn't have any spare mental energy to prop me up in the way he used to.

Don't get me wrong - I am not going down on a spiral into one of those non-existent rabbit holes. I am merely putting down the facts. The facts of my life. The fact that the one I would give my life for, the one who pieced me back together again, is one who we are not familiar with.

For as long as I have been allowed to, I have been with men who believes in relationships where two lives cleave together. Didn't quite matter if the time spent were quality time. It was more or less a question of quantity over quality. So much so that most of my friends when they hear from me, they would know that that one has come to an end.

But now it is different. Once, when nothing I did was pretty much for myself; now everything I do is for my own self. Once, when I lived for another; now I live for myself. And it's all good cos there is this separate entity altogether for once, that is ME.

Yet sometimes.. just sometimes.. despite all reminders that we have to "than chiak" (make a living)... I do so want to say...

Why don't you come home, its not very far.

I wait up each night, for the sound of your car.

Well, we both knew it wouldn't be easy.

Oh how we both knew it wouldn't be easy.

Oh yeah , but oh I never thought it ever be, ever be this hard.

I'm bored and alone, it's been far too long.
Why don't you come home, it's where you belong.
Well, we all could do with the money,
But oh whats the use of the money,
When we ain't got no time...

It's been three weeks, since I got a decent sleep.
I've a restless head and an empty bed,
these dreams are killing me
So, I keep on walking
'til the sun comes up.

Another Phantom Letter

The event of the last month has made me seriously take stock of my life – the full 34 years worth of it. 

You said we should live life to the fullest or else it would mean nothing. But then I’d have to ask – what is living life to the fullest? Is it doing what we want, when we want and in whatever fashion we want? 

I used to say I must go bungee jumping so that when I lay dying, I can say “I did it all.” But that was when bungee was all the fad. So what then? Does the list never end? 

I recall this movie – Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman – The Bucket List – where the two men, dying of cancer, makes a list of things they should do before they die. Do I do the same? Write my bucket list now and set out to achieve it? What if there is more to life than what I put on that list? Then what?

Or would it be more important to focus on what is important... on what really matters as another person living on this insane and lonely planet?

Time, is going by, so much faster than I,
And I'm starting to regret not spending all of it with you.
Now I'm, wondering why, I've kept this bottled inside,
So I'm starting to regret not telling all of this to you.
So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know...
Never gonna be alone!
From this moment on, if you ever feel like letting go,
I won't let you fall..
When all hope is gone, I know that you can carry on.
We're gonna see the world out,
I'm gonna be there always,
I won't be missing one more day...
I'll hold you 'til the hurt is gone.

Done & Dusted

I think I will go down in the "memorial flashbacks" as the loony-one who had a one-sided conversation by the brown box in the hall. 

Take all of your wasted honour

Every little past frustration

Take all of your so-called problems,

Better put 'em in quotations

And it was a surreal experience - for once, I had the last word in ~ which is rare if you put it in context. 

Walking like a one man army

Fighting with the shadows in your head

Living out the same old moment

Knowing you'd be better off instead,

If you could only . . .

And I could say everything that has ever come to mind but left hidden. Tho the best part of it all would be how I was able to rag into him (Obesity??? WTF happened to you?!) like I do with my buddies.

Even if your hands are shaking

And your faith is broken

Even as the eyes are closing

Do it with a heart wide open

But it don't really matter what "tag" has likely been given to me ~ I've said all I needed to say... including "I forgive you" which I think was what I really needed to do in the very end. 

Have no fear for giving in

Have no fear for giving over

You'd better know that in the end

It's better to say too much

Then never say what you need to say again

And now that faces and names have been put in their right proper place, burnt bridges mended in a manner of sorts, it's time to move on.

Author's Note:

I would like to express my utter appreciation to all buddies who carried me through it.. Would not have been able to do it without your logic, rationale and strength!

I Am...

When Black Eye Peas came in few weeks ago, I let that one go, with VVIP access tickets in hand. It was after all Arthur's Day and heck, I didn't think anyone else I knew would have wanted to be there (in the midst of the Irish having their fun and black brew). Turned out that I was wrong. Someone did want to go.

So in about a week's time, one of the biggest music star of our decade is heading to our shores. Can't really say I'm a big fan of Beyonce, but a concert, is a concert, is a concert. The city is abuzz with talk of almost nothing but it. But looking at the ticket prices and not knowing any contacts in Maxis, the only way we were not going to miss this was to win a pair of tickets through this Alter-Ego radio contest, which accounts for why you hear her latest hit Sweet Dreams when you ring me.

I have always been quite the great one at winning these sort of frivolous stuff. But seriously, after days of listening to the winning names, I didn't think "Barbsie Loaded" stood a chance, up against these hyper-creative twenty-somethings die-hard daisies!

So imagine my surprise, to get a call late last night, asking "What does Loaded mean?" Yes - I got em tix and it gave me such a thrill that I did not hesitate to pick up the phone and dial. Only to come smashing down to earth and the harsh realities of life in 2009.

I have always said I wished I had a greater ability to hold anger and rage ~ make it last longer. Perhaps it's age - mellows one down to nothing but putty. But in reflection, I think it's the lack of fuel - when allowed to stew, rage can really brew.

I have never really been one to come out and say what's bugging me. But I must say, over the last year or so, I have learnt and learnt the lesson well. It doesn't have to come out in words that's harsh and hard. And it doesn't carry with it any risk of a back-fire or a stormy argument. Plus, you don't lose any sleep over it.

It may not be a situation that I like. It may not even be a situation that I appreciate. But it is a situation that I can understand, and more importantly, believe. 

So while said person may have way too many oddities for the rest of us to comprehend, it must be said that he is good for one thing and I'm sure those who know me would agree ~ He knows how to diffuse a loaded situation and put it to rest permanently, which would be a first in a lifetime of explosive plenty. And he does it in a way that doesn't make me feel just that wee bit tall or wake up the next day wondering if I've once again had the wool pulled over my eyes.

There you are

Always strong when I need you

You let me give

And now I live, fearless and protected

After all is said and done

The concert may be a miss... but I don't need to be in the presence of Sasha Fierce to know who I AM ultimately.

LB - I hope the seats are good ones and person-who-cannot-be-called-the-Gword enjoys it!

Trying to Pull

Like I said earlier.. this is a bad foreign relations week / month / era... 

Bang bang down on the piano 'til I smash the keys
Listening alone with the melodies
Everything's gone and I don't know where

Lately when I get lost there's this thing I know
Even the dogs have somewhere to go
Everything comes if you just it be

Work, work, brighten the corners that will never see
Untangle the thoughts that you know what they mean
I hope that the answer doesn't come to late

And the rule of thumb don't apply on me
'Cause the table are turning

Trying to pull myself away
I'm caught in a pattern and I can't escape

Continue to live your life as if everyone and everything will always be there and one fine day you're gonna wake up and realise you've only been lying to yourself. You should know better - having been, done that and all.

If you don't start sitting up and realising that in it all, you've got more to lose than I do - then I'd have to say "I'm sorry - I can't help you. You're on your own."

I am always the last in line and I'm sick of it. I can't be pulled anymore...

No one can lose anyone,
because no one owns anyone.

Paulo Coelho

Earth Calling Angels

I have always pondered on the wisdom that couples, in a failed relationship, hold on to ~ keeping up a farce of a marriage when clearly neither is happy. I have always felt that it would be far better for both to part ways, give life a second (or third or fourth or n-th) chance to get it right. 

Spen/S$~rKC time waiting

for that second chance

for a break that would make it okay

there's always some reason

to feel not good enough

and it's hard at the end of the day

Some have mentioned that they stayed together for the sake of the children. And as a parent myself, my argument has always been - Don't you think the children has eyes to see what's happening, and ear to hear it as well?

Yet, the last few days have made me re-think my position on this whole issue from a completely different perspective. A re-thinking process that has been shared only with a few, trying to find perspective on an old issue; an issue that I wish I could leave as sleeping dogs lie. But as BFF Mandy says: it never ends.

I need some distraction

oh a beautiful release

memory seeps from my veins

let me be empty

oh and weightless and maybe

I'll find some peace tonight

And I don't think it would end anytime soon. Despite some well-meaning advice from experience to give a time-frame as to when "all would be revealed", I know this child. She, like her mother, would not have the inner patience nor peace to wait till she's 21 (tho I think in this day and age, 16 would be more like it!) 

So tired of the straight line

and everywhere you turn

there's vultures and thieves at your back

the storm keeps on twisting

you keep on building the lies

that you make up for all that you lack

In all honesty, if I thought I could find all the right words, string them in the correct sequence, with its appropriate punctuations, that if I did all that and she at 8 would understand, I would not wait another 8 years. Cos there is nothing worse than a mother walking on egg-shells with her child. 

It don't make no difference

escaping one last time

it's easier to believe 

in this sweet madness oh

this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

But what else is there to do ~ When some distant memory creeps its way to the forefront of her mind, giving her snippets of conversations, quick stills of images from a time now gone? When her surroundings get the better of her carefully created sanctuary, bringing her (and me) to her knees, wanting to know why is it that everyone else has one, but she doesn't? When a normal Friday movie night ends in shreds, simply cos you picked the wrong movie (Mama Mia!) and under-estimated the power of a song (Winner takes it all) that has moved adults to tears, to not affect a child?

I suppose those who have or are living in my blatant and harsh categorisation of a farce of a marriage have more foresight than me. Cos for a child, regardless of how dsyfunctional it may be, it is far better a position to be in, than to have none.

I never thought I can say this: if I had known that this tale would not come to its own end, many years later, I would have gritted my teeth, swallowed all the emotional poison and just put up with it all, come hell and sunder. Never mind that I would probably feel like crap everyday for the rest of my life, so long as my doh-doh feels that her world is right, and at peace. I would have sucked it all up.

But I cannot turn back time. And I know that this caving in of regrets is only cos I am at my wits end and the 'end' is the truth, for I am drafting an email to a colleague in Ireland who happens to be a retired psychiatrist, asking for professional advice.

If I believed firmly in angels, I would call upon her Guardian Angel - to nurture, counsel and heal... I would call upon the Virtues - to bring the answers she and I both seek in words of love... and I would call upon the Seraphims - to bask her in the illuminating light and love of the Almighty.

For Lydia is aching and slowly breaking, despite all the nets that we have weaved around her and there is nothing more in my power that I can do except to hold her as her tears gush forth but to deliver her to the angels.. so that she may find some comfort there...

In the arms of the angel

fly away from here

from this dark cold hotel room

and the endlessness that you fear

You are pulled from the wreckage

of your silent reverie

you're in the arms of the angel

may you find some comfort here

Crossing the Chasm

There's been a particular posting that my cousin Paul made over the weekend that I find myself coming back to, over and over again. In it he says this: Forgiveness is hard. Especially in marriages tense with past troubles and torn by suspician and distrust.

It sticks in my head, probably cos it's the God-to-honest truth. In every living creature and being, we are born with a self-preservation button. Some of us press it when we have to, and some of us have a somewhat faulty one - it gets stuck on "lock mode" once it has been pressed.

Which takes me to thinkng... there's an unwritten 2nd part to that post which Paul has yet to touch on: Forgetting is even harder. It would likely be something Paul would not touch on cos he's the sorta chap who dwells not on yesterdays, lives for todays and tomorrows. So on this lil rabbit hole I must go on my own...

I have always marvelled at couples with more silver on their head than black (or blonde, auburn or brown), how they withstood the test of time, man and self. What's their magic formula when it comes to this forgiving-and-forgetting? Cos Lord only knows, in life and relationships, particularly marriages where a commitment before man and God has been made, there would be times when the perception of perfection gets tarnished and we are faced with the situation either to polish it clean, chuck it away or stick it at the back of the closet.

Last week my dad surprised me when he rose to the ocassion of my mum being installed in the hospital. Many years back, quite possibly due to work commitments, he was hardly there as she lay in the sickbed from a collapsed lung. This time round, he's gone out of his usual ways to be more than just there for her, shouldering bits of responsibilities in the house as well. Even mum noticed it, and it was something that warmed my heart cos in this, I saw in my own parents, the silver-haired couples that I have envied from afar, when before this I thought all that held them together was the fear of God and their grandkids.

And I think back to the times of their cold-wars, the raging shouting matches (and dad rarely shouts so when he does, it's a situation!), the threats of bags packing to up and going. How all those times pale in comparison to watching dad's face slowly turn a shade paler as the time passed by and there was no sight nor sound of mum coming out of the operating room.

I know if I were to ask either of them "What's the secret?" They would tell me that it's an indication of what the word "vow" means to them. And how its definition goes beyond "keeping to one's word." And how people can and will change over time, surprising us when it is for the better.

I am thinking all this cos I am watching a dear friend hurt and live in pain, and I have exhausted all my wittism and humour to try and pull her out of it. I'm trying to gain perspective, and thru this, my hope that she too will gain perspective. To stay focussed, ignoring for now all the superflous characters that serves no direct purpose in her life, the distraction of "agents of evil" that reside in her head.

As Linkin Park's new song from the Transformers movie goes:

So give me reason to prove me wrong, to wash this memory clean

Let the floods cross the distance in your eyes

Give me reason to fill this hole, connect the space between

Let it be enough to reach the truth that lies across this new divide

I guess in choosing to share your life with someone else, you relinquish the right to "keep score." Cos each 'x' or '0' only serves to create yet another divide.

As our favourite TV show says: Forgive yourself, you can only hurt so much. So dearie ~ if they can make an episode out of it and we can spend out hard earned monies buying the CDs, and our time to watch it - there must be some truth in that.

UP Heavel

A thought's gone and stuck itself to the sides of my head. And it's a thought I can do without, not when there are far more important things that need my attention and focus.

It all started when 'Mary' and 'Sally' decided to go dancing but be Cinderallas i.e. leave the club by midnight. As time wore on and the carriage didn't turn back into a pumpkin, we decided to "reschedule" our departure.

'Sally' asked 'Mary' - did you need to get home by midnight? And 'Mary' said "No. Do you?" To which 'Sally' replied "Who's there to note what time I come home?"

And I can't do this by myself

All of these problems, they're all in your head

And I can't be somebody else

You took something perfect

And painted it red.

Blinded

Are we gonna get by?
I can hardly see the road,
Yeah but I'm gonna try

Star Burst

Occasionally, very occasionally I get this star burst of guts. This "what's the worst that could happen?" realisation and I do things that I don't normally do. And tonight, I am thankful and grateful to whatever lil elf that hovered over my shoulder and whispered "Pick up the phone and call in reply, not text."

I feel alive beside you

And all at once I am whole again

We fall into each other

Your atmosphere Is all I'm breathing in

And in this rush

We are crushed

It's okay. 11 minutes of respite to carry thru another week. That I think I can do.

Can Anybody Hear Me?

"Be your own best friend" said Paul in his comment that he left to me, from some 400 miles away. And tonight, as I sit here at my desk, drained - mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically, trying very hard not to go camp next to my fridge with vodka on my left and my fags on my right - they are the only words that hang still in my mind...

There's a little boy waiting at the counter of the corner shop

He's been waiting down there, waiting half the day,

They never ever see him from the top

He gets pushed around, knocked to the ground,

He gets to his feet and he says...

"It's one of those days" I told the LegalBeagle earlier on when I asked him for an online hug. Imagine that - asking an almost stranger (no offense mate!) for a virtual hug just to feel better about myself and my day. "What's eating you" was his reply ~ after giving a virtual hug of course. And I thought - how do I even begin to unravel all these things that needs to be ravelled?

There's a pretty girl serving at the counter of the corner shop

She's been waiting back there, waiting for a dream,

Her dreams walk in and out, they never stop

Well, she's not too proud, to cry out loud

She runs to the street and she screams...

They say that blood is thicker than water. Yet all my dad could think to do while I ran all the way home was to surf the net. I'm an adult, not one really prone to whinning and whinging. But I cannot help compare of how he rallied the phone lines to our family when my brother was in crisis. So what am I doing wrong that all I get is a cursory "yes", "no", "patience"?

What about me? It isn't fair

I've had enough, now I want my share

Can't you see, I wanna live

But you just take more than you give

I am standing on the edge of venturing into unknown pastures - of setting up something of my own.. well, technically I would own half of it. And I can't even tell my folks cos I cannot anticipate how they would react. And really, the last 4 months of working on it, has given me enough heartache ~ I do not think I would be able to take another one.

Take a step back and see the little people

They might be young, but they're the ones that make the big people big

So listen as they whisper: "What about me?"

I asked a year ago - how is it that people, who do not have the same DNA as me, nor the same blood running through our veins can see so much in me, yet those that share the basic human commonalities with me, CAN NOT? My partner in kyrme, trusts me so much with how I will give shape to his dream, that he can give me absolute decision making power. My girlfriend can drop everything she had to do, without me even asking, and not just to sit by me but to make sure I eat.

And now I'm standing on the corner, all the world's gone home

Nobody's changed, nobody's been saved

And I'm feeling cold and alone

So somebody please tell me - why is it in that lil box they call home, nobody sees me? Nobody hears me?

I guess I'm lucky, I smile a lot

But sometimes I wish for more than I've got...

What is it that I have to do, to achieve, to accomplish... to get equal footing in that lil box, everyone else calls my home?

I am so tired of all of it, of everyone, and bearing everything on my own that I do wonder if it would all be far better if I just downed a whole tab of valium, wash it down with a bottle of CC and go off to sleep for a lifetime. Right now, it sure seems a pretty appealing prospects cos I have tried everything else and nothing's worked.

Bring me to LIFE

I once wrote a piece about independent people. But yet lately, I have been asking myself this question ~ How can some people go without ever needing anybody? What had happened in their life that made them think that the world would not miss their presence at all? And that people would not always be there, and therefore to rely on someone else is just not to be done. (Ooh - deja vu! *duh*)

Wake me up inside

I can’t wake up

I'm asking all this because I have been getting emails and text that provides a jist of what's going on, and ending with "I'll tell you when I see you." Which would be.. err.. WHEN pray tell?

Save me

Call my name and save me from the dark

If it's happy news, I can understand. But when the going gets tough - you let your safety-net catch your fall you dweeb!

Bid my blood to run

Before I come undone

Maybe it's cos I'm one of those people who would burst into a million pieces if something were to happen to me, and I had no where and no one to run to. But I have been fortunate cos my person(s) would always be there. And I suppose while there were not always this many, I at least had that 1 person in Mandy. So to come up against somewhere who is more damaged and twisted than I am - it's like bloody hitting a brick wall!

Save me from the nothing I’ve become

People shouldn't have to live like this. Seriously! They.Don't.Have.To.Live.This.Way!

I've been living a lie ~ there's nothing inside

I'm probably ranting cos it's *arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh* and beyond!And it's probably not what I had expected. Not from the person who brought me back to life, to being among the living once again. And probably also cos I cannot believe that I didn't go with my gut feel and rationale (which for once both agreed on the same thing!) and chose to doubt.

Bring me to life

Whites was right - I so deserve a slap on the head from whichever snow-capped mountain he is on right now! And while he's at it, having a right-go at me, he might as well take a swag at this far too independent person as well so he could be brought back to life.

Urge Overkill

There's this line from a short article by Jeremy Clarkson (from his book called The World According to Clarkson) that says: Music has become something in the background, playing while we're doing something else.

While music forms a big part of my world (I am currently spending about 2 minutes getting my music set up for the drive into work and back!), I can't help but agree with Clarkson. Which is why I think it's hilarious to get this instant message this morning: "Hmm....was reminded of you when I heard Overkill by Men at Work "

Upon googling the lyrics (cos honestly, this is why a 7-year age gap makes a whole lot of difference), it's struck me that even if music is sometimes in the background, it can skip to the front of the line when something in it strikes ya! 

I can't get to sleep

I think about the implications

Of diving in too deep

And possibly the complications

Especially at night

I worry over situations

I know will be alright

Perhaps it's just my imagination

Day after day it reappears

Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear

Ghosts appear and fade away

Alone between the sheets

Only brings exasperation

It's time to walk the streets

Smell the desperation

At least there's pretty lights

And though there's little variation

It nullifies the night

From overkill

For the record ~ I am NOT all THAT bad kays? AND I am trying to do things without so much of a fuss :o)