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danne |
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
i suppose you're over me now •
all of a sudden today, life felt awesomely boring. i'm not doing anything anymore, nothing to look forward too, nothing to prepare for(besides A levels), nothing to do to meet new folks. it's like the sky suddenly got a little wider and emptied itself of that single big cloud that filled the big baby blue, and from the cockpit you peer out and see: hey! there's nothing going on up here.i'm not thinking about a lot of things, consciously, but it's ok, for now. with nothing but chorale and studies and little personal things that don't involve anyone else, the general feeling is rather lazy. makes me want to engage in whimsical, inconsequential pointless activities to help me pass the time that i don't have. sit down with the pressed and ironed paper on an unusually cool and wet morning with toasted spam, a plate of rich croissants and half a flask of cold milk. live in an imaginary, virtual reality; lounge around stacks of literature and research fiction in immense carpeted libraries with table lights that illuminate each of our faces and hands, closed in from the bright sunny greenery outside by two-storey windows veiled with massive curtains that look like they could have clothed the cold, hard stone walls of Arthur-who-existed-not's halls. browse writings and ideas and dreams of other men and girls, look at pretty pictures of architecture that's beyond my construction. snuggle up in a plump armchair like it all doesn't mean anything to me, except some special lucky person, or i am. the thing about life that gets us down is the way we were brought up, and the society we live in, as we already know. i could dream of buying a nice little house in that little corner of the world where we can look out the window in the morning, at night, and the world is quite pretty; look forward to old age and being surrounded by family and little grandkids who go, ooh rasin! but it's placed in the little bottle, broken in the heart, to angst. and we've inherited expensive dreams; not from our parents, but from us, ourselves, the society we've built as we grew up in cots on the third and top floor of poorly-lit HDB flats. so i'm walking around and around, missed my stop one too many times, took the wrong bus. when i get there, i'm not really; and every corner i turn to walk into a heaven, it's disappointment again, and again, until - not the body, but the spirit is tired and broken and we're ready to cry. but oh, boys don't cry. i realize i'm not doing all the things that i used to do, that i used to just for the sake of it, just for me. and these things that i did brought me good things.. brought me people, brought me to people and places. things that gave my life more meaning. but as for now.. i guess it's still early, and maybe i'll go back to them when i've picked myself up and become independent again. then again, if i hadn't thought of it that way, it could have been that i'd be afraid of the same things happening again. things going.. like this. but i realize that i'm not afraid, because i can not think about things, consciously. i just jump right back into the desert in search of something again, after being torn to pieces by the wind and bandits, and friends. and it's alright, so long as i don't see them, so long as i'm not reminded of them. haha.. mm, yes. in fact, maybe i overreacted. so long as i don't see, or hear of, much less touch.. the dance of life goes on. it seems i knew this before i did; not keeping anything at all. i really surprised myself. i can't avoid seeing, or hearing about them, really. so something inside tightens, and.. it's selective perception. you can't avoid it, and you most certainly can't blame. after all, other people mention them only in love. walks really do me good, when i can just go on and on. helps me clear my mind, helps me think or make decisions about something at hand, even gives me my inspiration sometimes. if only they could give me motivation and warmth, that would be all i need for leisure, hahhaha..! too many people are saying how they like long, slow walks on the beach: the part of me that doesn't think about things, consciously, doesn't believe you. surely you're just saying that to sound sophisticated and like a nice person. can't you see that isn't what makes anyone one? sometimes i don't even feel like singing anymore, because for every note i sing whilst having certain people in any, any corner or crevice of the mind, there are just so many strings attatched, tied, holding the sound back, keeping it from soaring over rooftops and into windows. but i still sing, haha. i really can't explain it. somehow, it just doesn't feel.. bad. mm. i doubt i could ever tell, because that's how i'd like it to be and so, what i tell myself. if i could tell, it would mean certain things are gone now, and it all doesn't really matter anymore. i'm thinking optimistically, consciously, haha. so. are you over me now? 6:35 pm |