transient whisperer, nomad
Just another WordPress.com weblogthat same feeling.
I’m not sure what was it that compelled me to take a screen shot of this act of love declaration, but I’m glad I did.
It doesn’t matter who took the first step into uncertainty and the unforeseeable future – because despite all that, the only thing that really matters is the magnetic attraction between us two.
It’s a force within that proves too strong for the real world.
Which is why, love exists for you and I, in a world where there are no others.
balance.
Sanity is the unattainable. To find one’s balance is the beginning of a never-ending. I’m powerless to your touch, fallible to your kisses, delirious with your whispers. My crazy habits feed your hunger for exploration. And as you learn more about the empty vessel that rattles only for you. Will the solitude eat into you, or will the void finally be filled?
to find oneself.
I vaguely remember how I used to be during yesteryears. It seems like the seconds are clocking in too fast and I find myself having the most difficult of times trying to catch up with those running hands. Memory seems to fail me a lot lately – or maybe I’m just getting more selective with what I’d like to remember. Sitting on this throne with my Tiger Beer mug of water patiently sitting at the corner of the desk, this clutter of absolute random knick-knacks (which I like to categorise under organised mess) is getting slightly too unbearable for me. I would love to start cleaning up a little and get myself “in the zone” but I give myself no more than two days before it resumes to what it’s always been, the trash stash.
When was the last time I actually sat myself down and drowned myself in literary prose? These days, words fail me, and it becomes a chore trying to express how I feel. This is the first time that I am placed in such an awkward position and I cannot help but feel somewhat crippled. Unable to pen down my thoughts, unable to speak out – it’s like a rope throttling round my neck, causing my heart to constrict and my eyes to water because really, I just have so much in me that I want to say. And these thoughts and opinions, I need to get it out of my system. It is not just words that fail me now. My thoughts have started to become a disarray of grey that I can never mix right. It is a very frustrating feeling and I end up purging out this bad energy by refuting others and going into sudden anger fits for no apparent reason.
I spoke to a friend about this yesterday. Because yes, I admit it. I have anger management problems. And these problems ought to be addressed before it hits the point of ultimatum. She mentioned that meditation is a good start, to constantly be mindful and to convert any negativity into positivism. Needless to say, if I knew how to do that, the world would be a better place.
Now let’s try, oooooooooooooo-za.
when i press rewind
I enjoy reveling in those clandestine glances shared between lovers.
It’s like a secret morse code for “I love you” without even having to whisper the words.
And the gentle brushes against each others skin, the subtle indication that you are being cared for.
It’s somewhat amazing how brazen the connection can be between two individuals.
As if the bones and the skin and everything else within, was thought out with much calculation to form the perfect combination.
But even the most compatible individuals will find themselves running out of time together.
They will find themselves chasing and running and hiding, and eventually, they’ll find themselves lost, in this crazy thing called love.
Just like how the locks can be broken, the locksmith of our hearts, can also take control.
And as I slowly find that it sometimes still hurts.
Life goes on, and one realises that the word love ceases meaning.
Like a flower in a vase, I fed on your love.
I’ve sucked on every drop of your love that could sustain me.
Now I’ve run dry and I slowly wither away.
My heart is an empty vase, a dead withered petal of emotions that lace.
aching bones and weathered gums.
It’s a sunday today.
I forgot when was the last time I actually went to church.
Sundays, I like to spend at home.
Sundays, I like to spend lazing around.
Sundays, I like to spend with the people that matter.
But hush now, you’re shouting, always shouting at me.
It’s blaring, your voice resounding and beating against my eardrums.
Every word that comes out of your mouth is brash, uncalled for, lethal.
I guess that trait pretty much flows through our heritage, our blood.
Forgive me, for the vengeful thoughts I always have in my head while you’re berating me.
Forgive me, for turning my back and walking away.
Forgive me, for not bearing any consideration to your feelings.
Forgive me, daddy, for I love you.
I know I show it in the most warped way, but I guess that’s really just, me.
barenaked.
after a 2 months haitus, it’s back to the grindstone.
unfamiliar with the sudden lack of freedom and luxury of nua-ing my days away it suddenly seems scary that i’m back to a 5 days a week, 9 hours a day office job.
the future seems bleak, like it’s hardly even there at all. i try to reach out for it but somehow it keeps whisking further and further away, escaping my clutches. just seeping right through my fingers, volatile.
i hate instability. i need something solid. keep myself grounded.
you weren’t a flower, you were just weed. nothing special. but you’re a drug, and i’ve found i’ve gotten myself addicted, but i’ve lost my supply.
