...For it seems like I have been battling constantly with the Hyde within me. Not really so much of an evil doppelganger, but rather, a cheery self seems alot harder to put on as a front recently.
Agony, pain, and fear seem to dominate these days. Agony of not being able to express my deepest feelings; agony at not understanding why we act the way we are; pain from self-depreciation, loss and regret; fear from a fall, a loss of confidence; fear from everything prone to repeating again.
The clock says 3am, the start of one of those emo nights till 4.30am, when Can't Sleep (by Above & Beyond) sounds its whispers through my soul. Beautiful, enchanting and depressing - the perfect lyrical poison for the nights that remain young till day breaks. Only then, I go to sleep.
A hug, the briefest of them all, stirs those tender strings of the heart.
Every night I read a few pages off "A Million Little Pieces" (by James Frey); every night I recall snippets of the movie "I am Sam". I recall, I feel, I sympathize, I cry in my mind. Just when I thought the soul had sailed away, leaving the heart hardened...no, the love of agony stirs subtly but surely.
And so I write, letters of the alphabet that code my private affairs, cast upon paper with only a lingering promise of "It will be taken care of."
Words have never such an effect on me in the past like they do of now; words earn me my income, words complete me. The power of the English language engulfs me completely - I am but a prisoner to my pen. There was never a socialite, never before, never now. Speak to me, I crave for words to inhale. Exhale in ink, exhale in ink.
Prose, thank you.
A deep ache; it stays. Bury it deeper, cry it to a river.
Friday, March 09, 2007Agony, pain, and fear seem to dominate these days. Agony of not being able to express my deepest feelings; agony at not understanding why we act the way we are; pain from self-depreciation, loss and regret; fear from a fall, a loss of confidence; fear from everything prone to repeating again.
The clock says 3am, the start of one of those emo nights till 4.30am, when Can't Sleep (by Above & Beyond) sounds its whispers through my soul. Beautiful, enchanting and depressing - the perfect lyrical poison for the nights that remain young till day breaks. Only then, I go to sleep.
A hug, the briefest of them all, stirs those tender strings of the heart.
Every night I read a few pages off "A Million Little Pieces" (by James Frey); every night I recall snippets of the movie "I am Sam". I recall, I feel, I sympathize, I cry in my mind. Just when I thought the soul had sailed away, leaving the heart hardened...no, the love of agony stirs subtly but surely.
And so I write, letters of the alphabet that code my private affairs, cast upon paper with only a lingering promise of "It will be taken care of."
Words have never such an effect on me in the past like they do of now; words earn me my income, words complete me. The power of the English language engulfs me completely - I am but a prisoner to my pen. There was never a socialite, never before, never now. Speak to me, I crave for words to inhale. Exhale in ink, exhale in ink.
Prose, thank you.
A deep ache; it stays. Bury it deeper, cry it to a river.
Mayhem March brings along storms and bouts of gleaming sunshine.
Mayhem March brings with it a turbulent swirl of emotions - of indignance, hurt, helplessness, frustration, love, gratification and more.
Mayhem March re-introduced sad beautiful tunes from the trance genre to my rusty, yet trained ears.
Mayhem March is a paradox in itself, a month of sunshine yet its gloom lies just behind.
Mayhem March has taken me by its claws, a sturdy grip of vice yet comfortably soft when encassed within. How I long for the nights these days...
Wednesday, March 07, 2007Mayhem March brings with it a turbulent swirl of emotions - of indignance, hurt, helplessness, frustration, love, gratification and more.
Mayhem March re-introduced sad beautiful tunes from the trance genre to my rusty, yet trained ears.
Mayhem March is a paradox in itself, a month of sunshine yet its gloom lies just behind.
Mayhem March has taken me by its claws, a sturdy grip of vice yet comfortably soft when encassed within. How I long for the nights these days...
Here is what I saw when NUS Sports Club 27th MC sent out their email notification for an upcoming Sea Sports Camp.
"Ever wondered why Wakeboarders looked like they were on top of the
world despite being dragged ridiculously across the water by a
speeding motorboat?"
"Can't figure out why Windsurfers would spend all day at sea tugging
at a silly-looking piece of sail?"
"Ever queried if Canoeists were all about brawns and nothing about
skill?"
"Or that Sailors really can't be exerting much strength by seating on
their boats all day?"
world despite being dragged ridiculously across the water by a
speeding motorboat?"
"Can't figure out why Windsurfers would spend all day at sea tugging
at a silly-looking piece of sail?"
"Ever queried if Canoeists were all about brawns and nothing about
skill?"
"Or that Sailors really can't be exerting much strength by seating on
their boats all day?"
Those non-seasports organizers are really asking for it. "dragged ridiculously", "silly-looking piece of sail", "brawns and no skills" and "can't be exerting much strength" are degaratory terms - really insulting to avid seasports lovers. Take it from someone who's from wakeboarding - I certainly do not look RIDICULOUS being dragged around by an X-Star - yes, you know what I mean. I am not impressed.
It is plenty of angst and frustration these days as assignments pile up, final projects on the roll and setting up a new place. I have been reminded incessantly that my cynicism will be my downfall in days to come - what do you people know, you people who are idealists of love and romance - when nobody realizes my cynicism is a shield from anything that would harm the tender heart strings. I cannot seem to lose the weight I have gained over CNY (those damn two tubs of pineapple tarts) despite so much running. Sleep is never enough these days anymore - the last time I woke up without an alarm was CNY period as well. The last time I woke up without an alarm before CNY was....damn, when was it?
Perpetually sleepy. Permanently disgruntled.
Between obligations and occassional stirrings of the heart, I don't know which to listen to anymore.
Ambiguous and purposely confusing, I observe the repercussions I create.
This is crazy. I need to write, I need to ride. Things are much simpler on paper and in water.
It is plenty of angst and frustration these days as assignments pile up, final projects on the roll and setting up a new place. I have been reminded incessantly that my cynicism will be my downfall in days to come - what do you people know, you people who are idealists of love and romance - when nobody realizes my cynicism is a shield from anything that would harm the tender heart strings. I cannot seem to lose the weight I have gained over CNY (those damn two tubs of pineapple tarts) despite so much running. Sleep is never enough these days anymore - the last time I woke up without an alarm was CNY period as well. The last time I woke up without an alarm before CNY was....damn, when was it?
Perpetually sleepy. Permanently disgruntled.
Between obligations and occassional stirrings of the heart, I don't know which to listen to anymore.
Ambiguous and purposely confusing, I observe the repercussions I create.
This is crazy. I need to write, I need to ride. Things are much simpler on paper and in water.