The written word
is a powerful tool
but it is us
it is Us who choose
to deceive
and believe.

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Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Well, that's how it is isn't it? One day you are perfectly happy and perfectly fine, perfectly moving on to a future and not looking back and then WHAM. It all comes crashing down. You struggle to stay upright, to stay afloat, but there's these ghost of the past clinging to you. You struggle to move forward but it's as though the past has this sort of bungee cord tied to you, making you believe you're moving forward and then pulling you back at your peak.

That's how it is, isn't it? One moment you have the world, the next it's all in pieces. And this time you realize, the pieces are those you can never put back together no matter how much glue, how much tears, how many apologies, how much heartache you use.

Some things you just can't take back.

(1) whispered
Sunday, May 08, 2011
Well. That's done. What's done is done. Forget regret. No looking back. You can't change what has happened. Don't look back.

But I do, and I think of all the things I could have done better and I wonder why I didn't. I have nothin to show for the time I didn't spend being the best I could be. I guess I've been wasting time, and when I realize this I get jealous of Adrian and everyone else who have been making good use of their time for something, anything that they want. Time is ticking away and I am just sitting here marveling at how fast it slips away from me.

I know this and yet here I am still doing nothing about it. perhaps procrastination really has got me so in her clutches that I can do nothing, absolutely nothing to tear myself away even as she tears me to shreds.

no whispers
Friday, April 08, 2011
All We Need Is Love And Beer
I need a beer. And I need you with me. I need you to tell me I'm being stupid, and slap me silly to make me see the sense in things again. I need you to be sensible for me because for some reason i am suddenly unable to. Is it because I fell from that infernal stunt a coupleof months ago? Is it the sleepless nights, all the alcohol I've ingested? I don't know what the reason is, but for some reason I feel very very stupid. I know it, but I can't keep myself from acting on it, from doing idiotic things that I know are idiotic. I need you to slap the sense into me. The way you always used to do.

You said I could depend on you for that, didn't you? You said I can always depend on you for that. Where are you now then? Too busy. You're all talk, as usual. But then, everyone is. Such beautiful, empty words. The truth is, no matter what anyone, no matter what everyone says, the only one who would look after me is myself. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, I can handle this on my own. I have to handle this on my own, because people don't really care about what's happening to me. Scratch that. People don't really care what what's happening's doing to me. What they care about, what they want to know is what's happening. Because that's how people are. they say curiosity killed the cat, but I say the cats' curiosities are killing me. Because they don't listen. They judge even before the story is halfway told.

And I really don't want to think about any of this so I was thinking of getting drunk with you the way we always used to whenever one of us had a problem or even if no one did, but oh well.

Anyway, even if you showed up outside my house with a case of beer and we drowned my sorrows in alcohol the way we drowned our inhibitions almost one year ago that night at the pool, it won't matter. It's too late. You're a couple of weeks too late darling. Nothing can undo this. Not even you.

no whispers
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The Writer
wishful thinking
I write about the things i remember in the hopes that i may forget.

The author reserves the right to deviate from the truth.
I may be making up stories.
I may be lying.
I may be hallucinating.
I may be dreaming.

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