To know and feel love, to not be permitted to have it

A few years ago a figure of authority told me I was running out of time.

We saw this coming, the entire system’s breakdown. But I was a mould so complex there was zero solution. We searched for answers to find none. We took each and every path to find no light. We gave up.

Three years down the road my time limit has been drained but I still stand. Weaker by the week, but as strong as ever spiritually. Yet sometimes it wears me out to go by the daily routines not knowing which minute could be the last. Of late we started searching for light again.

Sometimes I feel like a burden not worth bearing. All I do, all that happens to me, all that I am leads to disappointment after disappointment. And hurt, to the ones who love me most. And perhaps to those in my circle, when they find out. I hate living in constant denial. I’m sick of lying and facing this ‘life’ all alone because I cannot afford to see the reactions. I am weird, but I didn’t ask for it.

Numb. I’ve been programmed to be numb for a while now. I figured it’d make life all the more easier, even on the communication side. But it’s still agonizing, sometimes, to love someone and have them love you back, yet unable to overlook this barrier you can never break because you cannot bear to hurt them.

–

I think what became worrying over the last few weeks is me getting very attached to three people – Three people outside family who I can trust my life with, three people whom I love very dearly and whom I know share mutual respect for me – and still having to keep a certain distance because I cannot afford to be found out.

What a beautiful change, to be able to feel again, to love and to actually trust… and then have it all taken away from you because you have to refrain…

–

What’s the point of feeling so much and so intensely… Why waste whatever time is left feeling things that are going to be taken away anyway?

I just want to breathe and smell the crisp autumn-scented air. I just want to live.

May 21, 2010 | Categories: Bubbles of Inspiration, Writing For Me | Leave A Comment »

Writing For Me #1 : The Introduction

I just got back from what seemed like one of the longest days I’ve ever had on my own in the city. Now when I usually say ‘on my own’, I mean away from the family; but today I mean literally alone.

Truth be told, my day only actually started at 1p.m. Perhaps it felt like the longest day because I was lugging my laptop tote on my right shoulder the entire day(Alright, fine, half a day) – That should drain quite a lot, ya? Perhaps it felt like the longest day because I came back to an empty room in an empty apartment, where both my housemates have been having boyfriends over. Perhaps it felt like the longest day simply because that’s my stamina level now(Sad but true). But why should that matter, right?

So I’m sitting right beneath my air-conditioner, of which I had to set the temperature to 27ºC because otherwise my fingers’d be frozen before I finish half this entry. And yes my dear readers(okay lah not-so-dear to some of you but still), I’m aware I’m whiny and long-winded. Eh wait, that’s sort of the same isn’t it? Okay enough digressing. Where was I? Oh yes. So I’m sitting right beneath my aircond, with Norah Jones playing in from iTunes(Because while driving back I had it all figured out – That I’d write this with Norah Jones playing because it’s smooth enough not to distract my thoughts), eating McD’s chicken porridge and writing, DU-UH.

So I spent um, let’s see…Five hours in Pavillion, as I do every week. Just like any other weekly Pavillion Day of mine, it started out with me walking about aimlessly, then sitting at Theobroma Chocolate Lounge sipping a glass of Ms Coco Frappe(of which you shall not order unless your stomach and senses can withstand a whole glass of super-rich chocolate without wanting to puke it all out when you’re done. Took me some practice getting used to), and more walking around aimlessly. I bumped into Randy(Oh what a coincidence, ya?), blah blah and I was on my own again. So the main point of this entry started only around 8:15p.m., with me deciding not to go home just yet after trying on some Roxy swimwear, and then walking into Times bookstore.

Books, they’ve always appealed to me, but I’ve always been too bleeding lazy to actually finish any of ‘em. But there was something about today, something that had me drawn towards going through every single rack of that bookstore. Nothing appealing, no, until I chanced upon this one book on one of the many racks labeled “Self-Help”. I’d usually steer clear of these labels, with the perception that only that of losers and outcasts would ever step towards these racks. It was as if I had one of those moments of sudden insight, what do you call them…Epiphanies. Yes, an epiphany. An epiphany of what was, what could’ve been, and what could be.

There is just so much I have to say, and so much I want to share. So much that I hadn’t found the way to tell you before, so much that (I think) I finally found how to express. I could be so much, You could be so much, We could be so much – That sort of thing. *Argh I’m losing the feel already, it’s so hard to write and express when you’re losing the feel of an idea* So I grabbed this book a little crumpled on the edges, last copy apparently, along with my monthly magazine(s), and walked towards the cashier. Gracefully, I’d like to think.

Before I continue, WTF is with me and turning all ladylike? Eeeeeee.

Dropping my bag onto the backseat of my car, I hopped in the driver’s seat, turned on the engine and aircond, and sighed. Pulling my right sleeve down there was an obvious mark of where my bag straps had been on my shoulder. “I’m exhausted, worn-out, weary”, I told me. It just wasn’t me, but secretly(now not-so-secretly anymore) I wanted so badly to arrive home to someone who’d give me a friggin’ shoulder massage, or just a back rub for that matter. It’s slightly saddening to think that this year, it’s all about driving on my own, lone meals(not that there’s anything wrong with it), lone shopping, lone chilling, and coming home every night to a quiet apartment with housemates I simply cannot bond with.

But then I found this book.

Which was the perfect resolution to all that emptiness.

It gave me a heads-up to what I could be doing with life (and also my free time), how much I could be improving in so many different aspects – From loss and grief to health and healing. And on top of all that, it gave me little pointers of what I could be journaling about, and where to begin.

Out of fatigue and near-burnout state, I suddenly had so much I wanted to share, and of course, many amends I want to make. To the people who’ve walked in and out of my life, and also to random strangers. But here’s something I suggested I do myself : I figured that it’d be much more rewarding if I were to write about all these little things of my life for you. That way you’d get to learn more about someone(Me) plus life’s situations and demands, and I’d get to learn about how to deal with the pressure of whatever that’s happened in the past that’s been affecting my modern-day life in so many ways you cannot imagine.
(But of course, expect some password-protected entries because some things are better left unknown.)

I’ve lost the ‘feel’ of the idea for tonight already, and my porridge bowl has been emptied. Time for the shower and then a little bit of CH010(If I flunk again I will strangle myself on behalf of my mom).

January 28, 2010 | Categories: Bubbles of Inspiration, Writing For Me | 6 Comments »