Thought it may hurt, I want to have control.
I must have control.
I have control.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
I hate having to plan my evenings around you
Could time matter differently to two separate beings?
I felt like every second on the phone with you was an utter waste of time. I didn't know what to say, you said what you could think of but the gaps of silent was insistent and nagging.
I hate how I can't understand what you were saying half the time, I hate how I have nothing significant to tell you over the phone, I hate how every minute is so precious to you but it doesn't seem nearly as important if it was mine.
I told you you didn't have to call but you always have an excuse. I am sure how i feel. Each day I'm able to control, tell, analyze my feelings more delicately and precisely. But you can't. I think you can't.
How I see it: after 1030, everything seems to stand still for you, but after 1030 everything goes on for me, I hate to have to worry about what I think you are feeling. I hate how we are not balanced or on the same page. I hate how I can't tell you things I think about, things I worry about because I can't. I hate how you can't remember what you wanted to tell me because I want you to make a mistake so I can grab hold of it, hold it against you, use it to my advantage, dissolve my guilt with self preservation.
I hate myself, I hate how I can't tell anyone what i think about. I tried, but after I typed it out, it's so small. My problems, my worries, my everything is so useless, so unworthy, so pointless.
I hate how up till now, I can't tell what I want. I hate how I don't know. Don't know everything I want to know.
I am so tired.
I want to fix myself but I can't and I can't let anyone do it. Can I walk around with pieces missing, missed and mistreated? Can I look whole when I'm missing? Can I be me if I'm not me, but what is left of me?
I'm sleeping. Things get too hard when I'm not.
I felt like every second on the phone with you was an utter waste of time. I didn't know what to say, you said what you could think of but the gaps of silent was insistent and nagging.
I hate how I can't understand what you were saying half the time, I hate how I have nothing significant to tell you over the phone, I hate how every minute is so precious to you but it doesn't seem nearly as important if it was mine.
I told you you didn't have to call but you always have an excuse. I am sure how i feel. Each day I'm able to control, tell, analyze my feelings more delicately and precisely. But you can't. I think you can't.
How I see it: after 1030, everything seems to stand still for you, but after 1030 everything goes on for me, I hate to have to worry about what I think you are feeling. I hate how we are not balanced or on the same page. I hate how I can't tell you things I think about, things I worry about because I can't. I hate how you can't remember what you wanted to tell me because I want you to make a mistake so I can grab hold of it, hold it against you, use it to my advantage, dissolve my guilt with self preservation.
I hate myself, I hate how I can't tell anyone what i think about. I tried, but after I typed it out, it's so small. My problems, my worries, my everything is so useless, so unworthy, so pointless.
I hate how up till now, I can't tell what I want. I hate how I don't know. Don't know everything I want to know.
I am so tired.
I want to fix myself but I can't and I can't let anyone do it. Can I walk around with pieces missing, missed and mistreated? Can I look whole when I'm missing? Can I be me if I'm not me, but what is left of me?
I'm sleeping. Things get too hard when I'm not.
Waiting
I like rushing, especially rushing to meet my friends or my family or anyone significant. I find rushing around increases the anticipation of meeting your friend, makes everything even extra exciting, extra doses of I look forward to meeting you/I miss you so much.
That's why people who are late disappoint me sometimes. Maybe they look forward just as much to meet me, but the wait just smoothen out any anticipation, douse the excitement.
I hate people who makes me wait.
But not as much as I hate myself for waiting.
That's why people who are late disappoint me sometimes. Maybe they look forward just as much to meet me, but the wait just smoothen out any anticipation, douse the excitement.
I hate people who makes me wait.
But not as much as I hate myself for waiting.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Disoriented
1017
You called. I was surprised while I stared at my screen. I didn't want to pick up but I knew what it was like to wait on the other side.
I couldn't hear what you were saying, I didn't know why you called. I couldn't recognize your voice, you sound weird.
I feel weird. You asked if I could hear the guys laughing at you in the background. I pretended I couldn't understand what you were saying.
When people have time to think, they know just what to say.
When the call ended, I was confused. I still didn't know why you called and I don't want to know why. I thought i was very clear. A part of me know I shouldn't have answered. I shouldn't have answered.
You no longer confuse me. I think you've slightly shaken my control. I hate that. I hate what I think you make me feel.
I wish I was asleep.
You called. I was surprised while I stared at my screen. I didn't want to pick up but I knew what it was like to wait on the other side.
I couldn't hear what you were saying, I didn't know why you called. I couldn't recognize your voice, you sound weird.
I feel weird. You asked if I could hear the guys laughing at you in the background. I pretended I couldn't understand what you were saying.
When people have time to think, they know just what to say.
When the call ended, I was confused. I still didn't know why you called and I don't want to know why. I thought i was very clear. A part of me know I shouldn't have answered. I shouldn't have answered.
You no longer confuse me. I think you've slightly shaken my control. I hate that. I hate what I think you make me feel.
I wish I was asleep.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
I think I brought my point across well. Indirectly. I could see you got it from how your face fell. Despite so, all I can think of is how you've never once fought against any of my decisions.
That scares me. I don't know if I'm not worth fighting for or you are just not a fighter.
I can't have that. I need someone more stubborn than me, more persistent, someone who really believes I'm worth it even when I know I'm not.
I guess things don't work out the way you want it to. You should have fought. I'm not as strong willed as before. But I'm glad you didn't. Really.
That scares me. I don't know if I'm not worth fighting for or you are just not a fighter.
I can't have that. I need someone more stubborn than me, more persistent, someone who really believes I'm worth it even when I know I'm not.
I guess things don't work out the way you want it to. You should have fought. I'm not as strong willed as before. But I'm glad you didn't. Really.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Fall in love when you are ready
“Love did not bring happiness, it did not last, and it ended in pain. She did not want to believe this, and she was not certain that she did; perhaps she feared it was true in her own life, and her fear had become a feeling that tasted like disbelief.”
Andre Dubus, Dancing After Hours
Andre Dubus, Dancing After Hours
Thursday
3.25 am.
I fell asleep at 9. Woke up and now I can't go back to sleep. I miss being so tired my eyelids close uncontrollably. I try to force them open, to look at my phone an reply texts but I can't.
It's like you're slowly letting go of the rope, going down bit by bit before you lose conscious. I like that feeling, feeling myself completely relaxed and letting go and submitting to sleep.
Take me away.
I fell asleep at 9. Woke up and now I can't go back to sleep. I miss being so tired my eyelids close uncontrollably. I try to force them open, to look at my phone an reply texts but I can't.
It's like you're slowly letting go of the rope, going down bit by bit before you lose conscious. I like that feeling, feeling myself completely relaxed and letting go and submitting to sleep.
Take me away.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
What is the meaning of marriage?
A legalization of your love?
A validation of the extend of your commitment?
A promise to love and hold each other till the end?
Or could it be a reason to have children in socially acceptable circumstances?
Or Is it the only way to start a family because a couple who have kids are not family without a legalized form that took place?
To me marriage is for love. To continue the love you have by promising each other you will love and be true till the end of your lives. The decision to have children is just like the decision of other things in your shared life. Which is why I do not understand some people's rejection of same sex marriage. Why can't two people in love love each other the same way a man can love a woman? Isn't love without prejudice and purely feelings and a step of faith? Yes, the idea of marriage is sacred but so is love. Love is the magic on the lips of lovers, love is the warmth you feel in your coldest spot in your heart, love is the reason why you give, forgive, compromise and accept.
Love, is absolutely nothing if you don't want it. But when you have it, it's like the most important word you'd utter if you were to breathe your last, the reason why you start believing in miracles and the day you would give everything you have to save the person you love.
Maybe I'm too idealistic and I have yet to consider the social consequences but in the words of Shakespeare, "I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest."
Love is everyone's and when it strikes, who are we to forbid it?
A legalization of your love?
A validation of the extend of your commitment?
A promise to love and hold each other till the end?
Or could it be a reason to have children in socially acceptable circumstances?
Or Is it the only way to start a family because a couple who have kids are not family without a legalized form that took place?
To me marriage is for love. To continue the love you have by promising each other you will love and be true till the end of your lives. The decision to have children is just like the decision of other things in your shared life. Which is why I do not understand some people's rejection of same sex marriage. Why can't two people in love love each other the same way a man can love a woman? Isn't love without prejudice and purely feelings and a step of faith? Yes, the idea of marriage is sacred but so is love. Love is the magic on the lips of lovers, love is the warmth you feel in your coldest spot in your heart, love is the reason why you give, forgive, compromise and accept.
Love, is absolutely nothing if you don't want it. But when you have it, it's like the most important word you'd utter if you were to breathe your last, the reason why you start believing in miracles and the day you would give everything you have to save the person you love.
Maybe I'm too idealistic and I have yet to consider the social consequences but in the words of Shakespeare, "I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest."
Love is everyone's and when it strikes, who are we to forbid it?
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
I wished I have you pegged down. Wouldn't it be better if you could just define yourself, claim you know yourself best. Sometimes I hate how I don't know myself, I don't understand my thoughts, my actions or my reasons.
Sharon told me to write a letter to my 30 year old self. It's sad cos I'm afraid I will be the same even when I'm much much older.
I guess it's time to look for myself.
Sharon told me to write a letter to my 30 year old self. It's sad cos I'm afraid I will be the same even when I'm much much older.
I guess it's time to look for myself.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
Shiver, coldplay
How we try to steal pockets of time. 13 minutes of your supposed lights off you are still texting just because I woke up 8 minutes after the lights off. But I'm so tired. I'm too tired. Of this, of life, of how we can only have stolen time and discontinued conversations trying to bring it back up but failing. I wondered how you could do it. I'm too tried but despite the aching back and sweaty forehead from a uncomfortable nap, I'm texting you while I'm tired and uncomfortable.
Is that what people do? Go against the wishes of their bodies and eventually get used to doing what they don't want.
Disappointment. Arise from expectations. But as days past I realize my expectations of you are as minimal as i can afford it to be. But why. Why am I still waiting when it's going to be arriving later and later. You try. You try you try you try. But all I do is give up, get disappointed and further and further away from the spot where I used to be.
1051. Not waiting anymore. I'm detesting myself more by the minute.
Is that what people do? Go against the wishes of their bodies and eventually get used to doing what they don't want.
Disappointment. Arise from expectations. But as days past I realize my expectations of you are as minimal as i can afford it to be. But why. Why am I still waiting when it's going to be arriving later and later. You try. You try you try you try. But all I do is give up, get disappointed and further and further away from the spot where I used to be.
1051. Not waiting anymore. I'm detesting myself more by the minute.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
A breathe of fresh air.
The light at the end of the tunnel.
The candles kept in the drawers in case there isn't electricity.
The bolster who knew how weak you could be at night.
The blanket who keeps you warm and safe.
The torch who shines your path as you are navigating through the dark.
The answer.
The reason why you can walk among crowds and not feel attracted to anyone because you are spoken for.
A soulmate.
The birthday candles that re-lights no matter how many times you blow it out.
The voice your ears stretch to listen to.
The scent that reminds you of him.
The words that you couldn't say.
The lies that you no longer need to say.
The tears that fall from the other eye for the first time this time.
The known.
The rock.
The waves that keeps kissing the shore no matter how many times it was sent back.
The answer to all your prayers.
The reason you feel happier.
The point b.
The one who paints you at the back of his hand.
The one who carry you and his heart on his sleeve.
The one who says yes before you could ask him anything.
The one you can put your armor down and surrender.
The peacekeeper.
The one who had crossed oceans.
The one who needs to fly.
The one who knows you best.
The one who holds your hand.
The one who knows this isn't luck. This is a gift.
The one who is a cynic, an idealist and a risk taker.
The one who traces your veins, follow the flow of your blood and life and stays with you no matter what.
The one who dances to your unique rhythm.
The one who speaks in a language you both know.
The one who calls you at 3am.
The one who cried.
The one, the one you can give your heart to while holding his in your hand and no longer hold anything else in the world because there is nothing else more precious or valuable than what you are holding on to.
The one who would never let go no matter how you beg him to, not because he is selfish or committed, but because he couldn't help himself.
A mutual addiction, reliance and entity.
The light at the end of the tunnel.
The candles kept in the drawers in case there isn't electricity.
The bolster who knew how weak you could be at night.
The blanket who keeps you warm and safe.
The torch who shines your path as you are navigating through the dark.
The answer.
The reason why you can walk among crowds and not feel attracted to anyone because you are spoken for.
A soulmate.
The birthday candles that re-lights no matter how many times you blow it out.
The voice your ears stretch to listen to.
The scent that reminds you of him.
The words that you couldn't say.
The lies that you no longer need to say.
The tears that fall from the other eye for the first time this time.
The known.
The rock.
The waves that keeps kissing the shore no matter how many times it was sent back.
The answer to all your prayers.
The reason you feel happier.
The point b.
The one who paints you at the back of his hand.
The one who carry you and his heart on his sleeve.
The one who says yes before you could ask him anything.
The one you can put your armor down and surrender.
The peacekeeper.
The one who had crossed oceans.
The one who needs to fly.
The one who knows you best.
The one who holds your hand.
The one who knows this isn't luck. This is a gift.
The one who is a cynic, an idealist and a risk taker.
The one who traces your veins, follow the flow of your blood and life and stays with you no matter what.
The one who dances to your unique rhythm.
The one who speaks in a language you both know.
The one who calls you at 3am.
The one who cried.
The one, the one you can give your heart to while holding his in your hand and no longer hold anything else in the world because there is nothing else more precious or valuable than what you are holding on to.
The one who would never let go no matter how you beg him to, not because he is selfish or committed, but because he couldn't help himself.
A mutual addiction, reliance and entity.
Nothing
12.36
I'm lying on my bed, watching videos of poetry slams, wishing I was there live, crying my hearts out while I hear every word they say because they understand. Understand what one can feel in the middle of the night, understand the ache one can have beyond ones' own understanding, understand ones' sadness when one should be happy. understand what I can't explain.
I cry when their words resonates in my heart, cry when I hear the choke or pause in their throat because they are brought back to their past, cry because it hurts, it hurts to know that so many people out there have hurt like me.
1242
At this moment I realize how badly I need to call someone so I wouldn't feel so lonely, how I need someone to hold me as I weep for something I don't understand, someone who can understand what I feel. But there's no such person out there. No such person I could totally trust and lean on. My sadness is unexplainable. What I can't say or understand myself shows how much I don't even know about myself. I said how you don't know me but do I know myself? I don't.
1245
Besides the infinite differences I could list out between us. The only thing that striked me is if you were to say the time, you wouldn't have said it's 1246, you'd have said 0046 and that says everything to me. I don't know how but it does.
I feel very tired. And all I know now is I don't need someone to see me, to fix me, to save me. I need to forget. I need to forget. I need to forget.
I'm lying on my bed, watching videos of poetry slams, wishing I was there live, crying my hearts out while I hear every word they say because they understand. Understand what one can feel in the middle of the night, understand the ache one can have beyond ones' own understanding, understand ones' sadness when one should be happy. understand what I can't explain.
I cry when their words resonates in my heart, cry when I hear the choke or pause in their throat because they are brought back to their past, cry because it hurts, it hurts to know that so many people out there have hurt like me.
1242
At this moment I realize how badly I need to call someone so I wouldn't feel so lonely, how I need someone to hold me as I weep for something I don't understand, someone who can understand what I feel. But there's no such person out there. No such person I could totally trust and lean on. My sadness is unexplainable. What I can't say or understand myself shows how much I don't even know about myself. I said how you don't know me but do I know myself? I don't.
1245
Besides the infinite differences I could list out between us. The only thing that striked me is if you were to say the time, you wouldn't have said it's 1246, you'd have said 0046 and that says everything to me. I don't know how but it does.
I feel very tired. And all I know now is I don't need someone to see me, to fix me, to save me. I need to forget. I need to forget. I need to forget.
"Lending Out Books"
Hal Sirowitz
You're always giving, my therapist said.
You have to learn how to take. Whenever
you meet a woman, the first thing you do
is lend her your books. You think she'll
have to see you again in order to return them.
But what happens is, she doesn't have the time
to read them, & she's afraid if she sees you again
you'll expect her to talk about them, & will
want to lend her even more. So she
cancels the date. You end up losing
a lot of books. You should borrow hers.
Hal Sirowitz
You're always giving, my therapist said.
You have to learn how to take. Whenever
you meet a woman, the first thing you do
is lend her your books. You think she'll
have to see you again in order to return them.
But what happens is, she doesn't have the time
to read them, & she's afraid if she sees you again
you'll expect her to talk about them, & will
want to lend her even more. So she
cancels the date. You end up losing
a lot of books. You should borrow hers.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Disappointment has a name
Sometimes when people tell me to stop thinking too much it makes me wonder if they would heed their own advice in any scenario life throws at their face.
I can't. I can't not think. I am only capable of thinking, thinking too little and over thinking, thinking negatively, being realistic, being self centered and thinking of consequences. That's how I protect myself. I start by building something with my thoughts, as it piles up I slowly learn how to protect myself.
"don't let your guard down."
"it's not right."
"it'd never work."
"I don't need you to be happy."
"I can't afford to be broken again."
Yes. This is how I get my answers. My thoughts pile up so high one day I wouldn't be able to see you even if I tiptoe and try to crawl to the other side. It's not that I'm not open minded. I can't loosen up. I can't let myself do what I want. I can only think what do I need. What do I need. What do I do so I can survive one more tedious day ahead.
When you told me you wanted me to be happy, you don't know what makes me happy. The moment doesn't count for me. I don't live for the present or for moments. I live to survive, I live so I can trudge on ahead for the rest of my life. You could never make me happy. Nothing could ever make me happy. I set myself up for disappointment. That's my idea of happiness. To not be disappointed or more unhappy than I already am.
I crumble under reality so easily I can give you up in a minute just so I can protect myself. One face off with reality and I felt myself let loose of the thread. Do you know what it's like at that moment for me? A release. A bitter one nonetheless. I laugh at my ability to have the slightest faith even when I subconsciously know I'm going to get disappointed. But I guess that's what I need. This moment is enough to straighten my spine and leave my throat tightened and bitter.
Life is made up of reality, not big big dreams you came up with when you're a little girl.
I can't. I can't not think. I am only capable of thinking, thinking too little and over thinking, thinking negatively, being realistic, being self centered and thinking of consequences. That's how I protect myself. I start by building something with my thoughts, as it piles up I slowly learn how to protect myself.
"don't let your guard down."
"it's not right."
"it'd never work."
"I don't need you to be happy."
"I can't afford to be broken again."
Yes. This is how I get my answers. My thoughts pile up so high one day I wouldn't be able to see you even if I tiptoe and try to crawl to the other side. It's not that I'm not open minded. I can't loosen up. I can't let myself do what I want. I can only think what do I need. What do I need. What do I do so I can survive one more tedious day ahead.
When you told me you wanted me to be happy, you don't know what makes me happy. The moment doesn't count for me. I don't live for the present or for moments. I live to survive, I live so I can trudge on ahead for the rest of my life. You could never make me happy. Nothing could ever make me happy. I set myself up for disappointment. That's my idea of happiness. To not be disappointed or more unhappy than I already am.
I crumble under reality so easily I can give you up in a minute just so I can protect myself. One face off with reality and I felt myself let loose of the thread. Do you know what it's like at that moment for me? A release. A bitter one nonetheless. I laugh at my ability to have the slightest faith even when I subconsciously know I'm going to get disappointed. But I guess that's what I need. This moment is enough to straighten my spine and leave my throat tightened and bitter.
Life is made up of reality, not big big dreams you came up with when you're a little girl.
Neon
I'm suddenly reminded by a paragraph in The little Prince. The part where the fox explains to the prince why he should tame it.
On the second night, you had me waiting by the phone. I slept at 9 and woke up 36 minutes later because a part of me doesn't want to sleep through your call and the other part of me is waiting to hear from you. I've told you how sometimes I get disappointed by what others do with or without ill intentions and I start to lose faith in them slowly but surely. Despite so, i can't do that to you now. Even though I've waited, I'm not losing anything though I desperately want to.
If this is falling, I hope you let me crash till I hurt so bad I would never fall again. Because believing anything good will happen to me is like wearing my heart on my sleeve; asking to be ripped apart expecting not to when you gave someone a chance to do it.
On the second night, you had me waiting by the phone. I slept at 9 and woke up 36 minutes later because a part of me doesn't want to sleep through your call and the other part of me is waiting to hear from you. I've told you how sometimes I get disappointed by what others do with or without ill intentions and I start to lose faith in them slowly but surely. Despite so, i can't do that to you now. Even though I've waited, I'm not losing anything though I desperately want to.
If this is falling, I hope you let me crash till I hurt so bad I would never fall again. Because believing anything good will happen to me is like wearing my heart on my sleeve; asking to be ripped apart expecting not to when you gave someone a chance to do it.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Please don't let this be me falling
You're making yourself a spot in my life. That's scary. Very scary how I notice when you're not there, how I think I'm missing you. How I would wake up from my sleep, surprised cos you called and smiling even though I'm really sleepy. My feelings for you are scaring me. Distance. Maybe this is just a temporary illusion of what distance does to someone.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Maybe you are not sure but I am. I think I am.
It scares me how I'm getting used to some things. You told me you don't expect anything. You're lying. I think you're lying. How could you not.
I don't want to try because there isn't a point in trying if it's not going to end well. I don't know why others can't see the end when I do so perfectly.
I'm too flighty. It's not that I'm not good. I think I'm not right. Not right for this or for you. People should be looking for something that fits. A puzzle, a temporary missing piece that is finally found. Maybe I'm not a piece, I'm too much or a work. Maybe I'm the glue, the motion that bring and witness other pieces come together.
Even though I'm not right I hope I didn't make things bad for you. That's the last thing I want. Really.
I don't want to try because there isn't a point in trying if it's not going to end well. I don't know why others can't see the end when I do so perfectly.
I'm too flighty. It's not that I'm not good. I think I'm not right. Not right for this or for you. People should be looking for something that fits. A puzzle, a temporary missing piece that is finally found. Maybe I'm not a piece, I'm too much or a work. Maybe I'm the glue, the motion that bring and witness other pieces come together.
Even though I'm not right I hope I didn't make things bad for you. That's the last thing I want. Really.
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