we cannot change the cards we are dealt,
just how we play the hand.
Monday, December 18, 2006
8:44 PM
Burial
7 toasts of redwine to blessed unions and tragic partings upon a midnight of an aging sunday. i congratulated the big wheel last night, and prayed a silent prayer against the high foreheaded sea of calm. so what if it had started out as a date of no interest? so what if it had really been a mistake?
some of the best things in lives are mistakes, even if they end wry and wrong.
and yes, i have been a little naive. i was asking for the inconceivable, and these days i sometimes laugh at the imperviousness to reason which i sorely plunged myself at depths.
i will say this for the last time, as you would not accomodate a last supper. i broke up with you because i could not love you. i loved you so much then, fuck i really did.
so we embarked on a journey where you said you would change, where i said i would wait. and it came upon us, that wicked irony which coursed through your love. there was nothing to change, because with change comes a different step i could not love, yet without change comes the same step i so loved but could not.
and who am i to change something, when i know not i am right?
you are a gem, a precious little thing, and you should find the prince who would kiss you from this nightmare one day. it would have been nice, but i am no prince, just a kid writing deep prose to impress the world, drives a punked up lancer and skids corners at a hundred fifty.
perhaps then, you say. i had fallen for another over you. where eight bamboos alias M and Ms together with little tail topped with globes of flesh, a worthy supper once upon a time. then, it was an admiration, nothing more. of orange sports bra and vivid imagination, of furry hamsters and a tad strange stranger.
but where i said i would wait, and where you said you would change, i brought her into the equation, a kiss worthy of Dorothy's Silverlets. i had begun to unlove, even before that, and your change was of no worth. change would only crush the tender memories we shared, change would only destroy the happiness we once shared, change would have destroyed you.
i walked down orchard for the first time this eon. and it was an alley of swirling capsules. unnerving. because i could remember the exact way you tip toed, put your arm around my neck, and kissed me so gently my left cheek while we queued for sugar cane at lido. my spectacles went askew, and i dropped my wallet, and you said four sorrys before bending over and picking up a fifty cent coin. i was then quite pissed off because i lost my twenty cent coin.
i tried to make you understand why i could not still, start this new. and i falter.
but tearing sleeves, 3 days older than i, would have put it in no better terms. i credit brilliance to alcohol, for i doubt a calibre of cap 2.9 would garner such enlightenment.
how would one know when he has truly moved on? i had initially placed faith on the other moving on as a good mark, but it was a disappointing disappointment. while tearing sleeves acknowledged that one could only move on with someone new, we toasted 7 glasses of red wine to the fact that it is unfair to she who knew and is new. but pray tell. how else would we know we had moved on then?
and then comes another gross inception, when should i have asked? to officialise would have meant moving on without truly so. to not would have meant loving so without truly moving on. so i chose neither, a juxtapose of two paths intricately balanced, yet it only brought tears to the face of an angel amidst exhaust and stares. it has been a tiring journey, where its saving consolation remains in this brought upon myself by myself, but i seek a closure. yet i only find dead ends. no, i only find crossroads, where each junction brings about more and more, and more, dead ends.
it is 6 days after what could have been a third year. and i am sorry, because i had no patience to wait. i had no patience, because i felt that wait would bring about nothingness.
i hugged pinkstar, grumpybear, bigheart, fishball one last time this morning, your scent distant but familiar. stashed them along with five boxes of things, things which bear snippets of your soul, and hid them where i would never see them again. the lock was cold, an unfitting guardian but it was the best i could do. the keys, warm and wet, would find their separate ways to more worthy ministering angels.
the past is passed. i love another.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, December 16, 2006
11:23 AM
Quotes
"so yes, there is a mistake. but some of the best things in lives are mistakes."
A soldier killed in the Great War, Great War: American Front.
"and remember, my sentimental friend, that a heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others."
Professor Marvel, in Wizard of Oz
"i have moved on, but thats just i. and there ain't any i in enough."
Tobert Inlein in Stranger In A Strange Land
"Love is like pie -- natural, irrational, and very important."
Isa Affman
wizard. affman. isa. killed. inlein. tobert.
morning inspirations.
the voices in my head-
Friday, December 15, 2006
11:08 AM
Cross
back from the land of the north. its been quite an experience, being thrashed by kids half the height twice the speed. and a historical moment for myself being benched after the 3rd game, where the highlight of each match is the warmup.
my knee is at its crossroads, and i veer from the right once again. prickface who only knows how to put the ball on reverse would have hit me on the head and tell me not to drive against traffic, while one-minute-man fatfuck would have given me that distorted face, but they don't understand how it is like do they.
i have decided, so shall it be. a day not too long back, two feet jump and a palm over the hoop, yet these days i can jump on one feet and brush that little hoop with my fingers. it ain't that bad. perhaps the day shall come when my other knee's busted, then i shall consider continue playing with hands for my legs.
crossroads, where some lone pointguard ponders if he should play forward, where some wuss boy three point magic wonders if he's good enough for his school, where some secretary reflects on his dance bodypart isolation, but not me. hovering decisions just ain't for me.
the voices in my head-
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
9:48 PM
Wij
until the day you can love her as she had loved you, you would truly be in love.
i could not love her as she did. its time to move on.
the voices in my head-
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
4:42 AM
Big Wheel
a rush of adrenaline, and a corner taken at 140. no skid still, just a little oversteer but played safe to the lane against traffic. hands gripped a little too tight, leather stained with perspiration, but in control amidst cool dew.
i am still in control.
but the big wheel of my car spoke truth, there is subtle difference between being in control and responsibility of keeping those with me, alive.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, December 03, 2006
11:54 AM
Sparks
even the strongest amongst us falter.
even the strongest amongst us need prayers.
even the strongest amongst us cry.
but you can still look pretty, even with the tears.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, December 02, 2006
12:33 AM
The Call
i was listening to the calling - wherever you will go, and i paused. for 3 minutes and 28 seconds of my life, and said a silent prayer to a girl whom i do not know.
and as i drove the 1000km journey from melbourne to sydney with a herd of basketballers on the ride, it could have just happened to us couldn't it?
and that quiver that ran up my spines to the tips of my fingers that grasped the steering wheel, when i received a message from singapore telling me to drive safe, which spoke of a stranger who died in an accident across the globe amidst the mountains of canada.
two months after. buaya week closed upon sheares, and her tribute was played with the calling, and that same quiver took me beyond words.
that same quiver too. yesterday. when sherry came over to my room and spoke of how her close friend just passed away, flung 4 lanes across the expressway off her bike and died instantly with her boyfriend.
i don't fear death. why, i had never been to a funeral.
but i realised, i fear the passing.
the voices in my head-
Friday, December 01, 2006
2:19 AM
Viper
its horrid. mind you, its not about not getting that A+, nor that A thereabouts, but i really did study this time.
but i did not manage to complete econs.
and i had one half marks deducted for a last minute change at MNO.
so what eh. piles of people could not even start on econs says you. and heaps of people had more than one half mark struck off MNO already.
thats not the point you see.
university is so different from JC. and a far cry from O levels. unlike thickheaded pattayan prostitutes with coconuts for their boobs, those two headed dragons who says they don't study but hide in their closet each night to rereread their notes, i really did not study.
but now i'm mugging my head off like how mcfly sings their songs, vertical motion with an occasional lateral shake like ecstasy countering the lack of sleep, i dare say. i'm damn proud i studied.
and watch me ride you whores from holland and jerks from germany up that damn bell curve.
maybe thats why, just perhaps. i can't afford to lose that one half mark.
but even then, whats a netherdrake doing with his butterfly against a bone and a rapier at two in the morning?
i'm so fucked.
the voices in my head-
i love my girl. a love so beautiful, symmetrical, tangible
God loves me. a love so great, unconditional, real.
my life in a nutshell. working towards loves of sorts. beautiful, symmetrical, tangible, great, unconditional and real.
a page, deliberately left blank.
Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking.
It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
I Corinthians 13:4-8
Get awesome blog templates like this one from BlogSkins.com