Two more weeks till I’ll be back home in Singapore. It’ll all be back to normal again. Even though I foresee my being bored to death with all my friends busy with work or school, I’m looking forward to everything familiar and easy again. Although…it’s not the same and it’s hard to keep things quiet. I’d like to go back when everything was easier.
I don’t like thinking about it.
Life is never normal, the hills are never even. Like all things natural and all things real, just as god made it to be, nothing is ever normal or equal or alike. We are never going to find someone like us, we are all as different as the next. We don’t like that, so we look for similarities. We look for similar experiences, similar faces, similar thoughts, ideals, goals and ultimately someone to fill the other half of us. Someone similar yet different. And we call that two halves of a whole. Two halves of bullshit. Why do we make these stories up? Why do we invent fairytales? Why do we still believe and put our faiths in something as untangible as an other half? I call bullshit. The princes and princesses are not real. No one is looking for you in your castle like there is no one in the castle to save.
But maybe you’ll be able to find someone who is everything to you, and to you I then say good luck. Good luck because I hope you die early so your love doesn’t. Good luck because maybe you will stop listening to the cynical bullshit someone else is telling you and tell your own story.
There are some songs that bring you back in time. Like how sometimes the smell of some things brings back vivid memories, there are some songs that do the same. An out of body experience that isn’t alien, every sensation flowing through your brain to the tips of your fingers just acutely familiar. And it is eerie as it is lovely that I remember how everything used to be, and I remember what I was fighting for, what I was living for, and what I was dying for.
They were tears now remembered fondly of.
Those were the times I was most alive.
“I’ve noticed that you’ve been noticing me.
So, I’m giving you notice,
That I’ve noticed you.”– Beautifully Broken
Give me something to believe in
I need to know it’s there
My eyes are closed, I’m shaking
I’m so alone, I’m scared
Let me see what’s coming
I need to know my fate
My head’s a mess, I’m trying
But I can’t stand the wait
Light a path for me dear,
I cannot see the way
My heart is dead, I’m tired
So help me one more day.
There’s a certain expectation of everyone, a certain path to follow. I grew up following this path exactly, but once in a while, I let myself go off-course for a little bit. Only for a bit. But now I’ve ventured too far, I’m getting lost, and I don’t know what to do.
My insecurities are why you can never see me cry
You read me like a book but still you don’t know why
For all this I’m sorry for, but I can’t apologise
Because that same damn property is crippling my mind.
(Oppression flows from insecurity; I realise that I do have abundant emotion, but I wish I had the ability to be more endearing, and less indifferent.)
2009 might not have been what I expected, but I regret nothing
Just awhile ago I was thinking about how uneventful this year was, but after re-visiting my previous post about my accomplishments at work, looking at your comments about it, and then looking at my new social experiences, I realise that it’s been a pretty cool year after all.
I’ve done everything I’ve wanted, and I’m now here, where I’m supposed to be.
And although to you it might seem childish, melodramatic and maybe slightly campy, here’s what I think this year was about, like a secret the universe whispered in my ear. (My left ear – wait, is this what schizophrenia is like?)
Everything is going as planned. You did a good job this year, keep going and know that wherever you are, you are wherever you are supposed to be and everything is working out the way it should.
Don’t think so much. 2010 awaits, and it’s going to be exciting.
For you too.
If there’s one thing, it’s words I’d love
Words do not judge, nor laugh, nor care
They speak of my heart, when the brain knows not
Of all the things i’d once been through
Of the petty hurt and all my grief
So if there’s just one, it’s words, it’s her.
(The sadness remains forever)
Yes, one day i’ll forget this too.
Look back in memory, myself a fool,
All the stupidity, oh woe! what a tool
The clowns, they weep, with painted smiles
The red, on white, but oh what joy,
From all the red, tainting all the white.
It’s not your fault you were my first
The blame’s on me, my cross to bear
And though there was hurt, and pain, and grief
Before all this, there was some love.
I’m sorry now, it’s all my fault
I hurt me, I opened the vault
I should have known it’d end in tears
But at least I know, I felt some love.