Thursday March 9th 2011

          Wounds that heal with time...they are so many. But time makes us forget, momentarily at least, while writing about these wounds opens them up again. No biggie, were all grown-ups here...well not too grown up to have a dear diary-ish blog. Hmm i wonder where this came from. I feel like typing in a smiley but i know it won't look good on my doom and gloom page especially on a bad day and i'm looking at it.
          I'm glad i have friends, even if i know they are temporary. I just finished thanking God for them a moment ago. On days like today they warm me inside out. Not many people are willing to pack up a Tupperware to let you have a taste of a dish their mom made the previous day. I should know, its a friggn hassle carrying it around when you are commuting with a big-ass laptop, bag, books in the middle of a storm. Yet, it feels perfectly cozy when you share a home-cooked lunch with friends. There is something very special when its comes to sharing a home-cooked meal with friends. Maybe that is whats behind the Japanese obsession with a "bento" or lunch box. Almost every anime i watched had to have a bento-deprived character tucked up somewhere. Usually this character is the son of a well-off successful working family. Poor bento-less people.
          Finally, the chapped nail-polish is gone i guess i had enough sleep to wake up in a good un-soured mood, or maybe, just maybe, things are on the way to getting better? 

Monday March 7th 2011

          I started this day looking like a mortician with my black on black n chipped black nail polish. I didn't mean to dress myself in that, that morning but i seem to have dressed my body with the color that fit my mood's spectrum. Last night I fell asleep crying on my brother's shoulder. I couldn't get myself to my own bed. I found myself hugging a pillow and marching towards his bed. One moment he was holding me, the next i was sobbing ever so lightly. I swear i barely made any noise i didn't even shake, yet he knew. That's the way it has always been between us. Or i guessing tears can be heard hitting a pillowcase.  I only had three hours of sleep that night but it was one of the most relaxing sleep experiences i ever had. And though i woke up in a black mood, it was not related to my precious hours of sleep that night, of that i am assured.
          I'm glad i write anonymously here, i wouldn't admit to crying myself to sleep to almost anyone. I do have this image of the tough independent person i need to keep. I have to stay solid to those who use me to anchor their lives. I just told my friend to try be happy and then told her that i don't practice what i preach. At least i don't have to pretend much for her sake like everyone else. 

Sunday March 6th 2011

          A friend of mine thinks 50% of her music reminds her of me. Sad we're not close anymore. Sad i make sure no friendship lasts so long. It's not like i do it intentionally. I honestly don't, but its like my psyche is used to putting distance between me and people who potentially could become important to me. Whats even sadder is that all of these songs are melancholic. I tried changing that by sending her two cheery ones but the lyrics are even more melancholic. I guess i just cant do happy like the average person. Too bad i think happy would look better on me.

Seems i'm so close to tears these days i cant help it that even a sad song in a language i don't understand can get the water works started up again. Never thought i'd become a sap, i must be dying of something terminal that i don't know about. So few are the things that make my heart beat and even those things people want to take away from me. When will i earn the right to feel that silly smile on my face in my heart? Haven't i had enough sadness to earn it by now? Haven't i put enough of these smiles on other people's faces to earn one secret all for myself? Won't you leave one piece of my heart big enough to pick up with my fingers?

Wednesday March 2nd 2011

         Aishiteru. Funny how this foreign word makes "i love you" sound so puny. Don't you think so too? It's okay it doesn't matter what you think because for once all what matters in this corner of the world is what I think. Lucky me, the only place this matters is cyberspace and in a corner i let only one person see. Funny you wonder? Funny or bitter i dare not ponder. Maybe we need a new word for love, maybe then we wont take saying it so lightly. Why does "Aishiteru" sound like an eternal pledge to me when i love you sounds like every song i hear, every other book i read and every shackle i imagine? Those three words have become our world's greatest cliche'; just vile words, more vile that gum stuck under a desk.
        I pity those words that lost their meaning. Imagine the color red loosing its meaning like that. Wouldn't it be a shame? When red is still there but no one can conceive its presence, its beauty and its variations and versatility? Can you imagine a world where red is just like blue or green? any other color.....but red.
        Yet here's a sadder thought. Imagine red loosing all its meaning but the value of its wave length in the color spectrum in the same way love is dissected into quantitative measurements. Its too late now for love but i think I'd be sad for that poor color, more sad than the usual that is.

       

Tuesday March 1st 2011

What does it say about me if the only time I feel consolation is when I imagine them dead? 

Does that make me a wicked person if i'm too tired of fighting for myself that i want my adversaries to just save us all the time and drop dead? Is it so much worse if those adversaries were my parents? Would it be so wicked if those thoughts were for them and not the kid who tortures the local cat population?

Is it me or is there this specific spot in our chests that is specifically allocated to hurt when people you trust break that trust? This specific spot on the crown of my heart that hurts every time i think of how things should be and how they actually turn out...