Where The Yellow-Brick Road Crumbles...

Life is but a dream. That is what it seems to be at the present. A mundane, meandering, slow-boating dream filled to the brim with subtle chaos.

'lo the pressing of those on the other side of the glass as they smear their faces upon the dome of the life I would like to call my own. Watch as they attempt to leave an impression of their hideous grimace upon the frames of my mind. They leave nothing but more; more shit on my wall to face.

It seems a custom I hold to myself that everything I attempt will end in failure. The confidence I portray is but the presence of the Masque or care (which in the case of the latter would be the lack thereof).

Less than a moon has past since I was told that I had spent close to two years working on something which might be deemed insufficient or irrelavent. Would I face the axe for the shame which currently dwells within me? The bile of bitterness returns directed otherwise at not only those which shot me to pieces but to the shards over the ground which made up myself.

Far from eager to learn of the fruit my labour has borne, far from ready to approach strangers and request that I be compensated for my 8.30-6.00 hours and far from ready to deal with everything else being smeared on my face.

Escapist, guide my path. Where shall I hide next?

Standing Alone In Time

Second Upper eh? Good job brother. I am truly proud.

A conversation between a friend and myself a handful of days ago entailed some reminiscing and recalling of some of the memories which I used to run away from until recently. Honest and true. Oddly enough I never believed in running away from problems yet I still ran. I ran for my dear life. Or did I run away from everything else as well?
This new place I find myself in, this strange new place is soothing and somewhat carefree yet I feel empty. As corny as it sounds, I have lost a part of myself. I ran away from it. My friend insisted that I could find it again, I just needed to do some back-tracking. Not true. I have dropped it. I have lost it. It is impossible to reclaim. I could try to rebuild what was lost but I believe that it would never be what I used to be.

The masque. Beautifully decorated and an essential piece of my life. The layers it holds protects me from who I really am, it protects those around me from what I do not wish to share. Friends are beautiful people and they offer to help but this journey, as I have reiterated on countless occassions, is one that I alone have to face. Face. Funny. The masque is something which I still have with me and something that will be with me for the rest of my life. Of that I am very sure.

I do honestly believe that many live like I do. Some keep to their masque together very well, others cannot help but hold the broken pieces of theirs together in the hopes that nobody else is paying attention. There are so many of us out there, we are the same yet all alone. Hiding from something which we do not think we deserve. Hiding from society and cliques who do not need to know, who do not need the added salt upon their own wounds. Common courtesy in some circles, secrecy and mistrust in others. It is interesting how being polite can also be seen as mistrust which is a very unattractive yet unessential component of good manners.

I also finally admitted that I had learnt a thing or two from someone I once knew. Alongside the masque, I now have my very own personal fortress. How about a little bit of Wayne's Great Wall of Shit to hold people at the border? Beautiful. As unfair as it seems, I doubt anyone will get hurt in the process and hopefully I would have let these walls down by the time someone else comes into my life. For now, I just want to snuggle up in my blanket on my bed and in my fetal curl, be lonely, with these four cats.

On This Gusty Night.

How I love the rain and all the stormy friends it brings along with her.
This night was beautiful. It continues to be as the breeze rolls in through my little window and caresses my face in the night as I type this out in my little lamplight. The beauty of the night seems to call for melancholy almost naturally. Nature's own little calling for a dark and slow groan, to remind itself of what within resides.
What a clever cellist the wind is with my steep abode's eleventh-floor windows and balcony.
How the tempo besmudges me with this beautiful state of emotion. How it droops my eyelids and sings to my heart to remind it of the darkness which still resides within. Slowly as It brushes against my lips and my chin does it enchant me with the memory of the requiem my own hollow self would hold if I held it against a listening ear.
I gaze outside and notice how Man's little decorations of light and bricks only seem to feel so still and stagnant amidst the life of tonight. The life of the night and the canvas of the world in symbiosis, in agreement that I should see and recall what I do:
Pristine white, pure and flawless, keen and guiltless, she mounts her ebony steed. To be beside her was a gift for that sun and moon. Quite like this one but with less beautiful scenery. I know not what else would bring about this beautiful little frame to mind and heart other than the yearning of this night. This gusty beautiful night...

Objectification.

Yet another revalation.

It is odd how this one still feels light and freer than it once did yet in not questioning it, this one has no answers for what happenned earlier. It is still confused as to what this all means and it tries not to ponder too much upon it. This one yet ponders. It ponders about what could have caused this great crevasse between the two so great that even a wave would seem hazardous.
It would like to believe that It was over everything that has happenned and that it was free from whatever dredges it felt were holding it back and despite no longer feeling any weight from the little past yet this one cannot help but feel the sourish tinge when it was again reminded of how cold the ice-box really was.
Noticing in how this knot in the yarn is far from unravelled and smoothened out, this one will retract its thesis upon which this one presumed that it was over everything and that it could thenceforth enjoy the gaeity of life's bounty. This one must ponder more upon it.
T'was said that true love be eternal yet they never spoke of what would happen to them if indeed things ran awry. Does the immortality of this silly noun called love carry on and become a walking cadavre oozing with perversions of its former self?

This one gazes upon its wall of shit and smiles at the curves which seek to eke out an intricate design of irony which although appealing, destroys itself.

Ah yes, this one ponders too much, it thinks.

A Rant??

The past few months have been beautiful. The melancholy and pain were an artistic twist in my life which will be remembered for quite a while on my account. Alongside that, I have learnt to enjoy myself and to do what I want without much thought of repercussion. I sit here now with very little time left for what many would have already completed. Many people rush here and there and up and down all day long for weeks and months on end for what I have in my hands. I on the other hand have left it hanging for months untouched. My final academic leap before I see the end of my undergraduate academic life yet still I feel no urge to complete this last mile in the journey.
I shun the responsibility upon me to do this not because I cannot do it but because I do not find myself in the condition to want to complete it. I believe that I will eventually come to and have to rush the work but until then, I will continue to smother my conscience and continue my life as it is at present.

I Guess Not.

Well, as unconventional as this is for me, I believe that I should say:
Haha.
Although the past six months and more seem to have been an utter waste of time and a complete escapist path, tonight I feel fine. I feel so free tonight that I simply cannot believe that I own this blog :P.

I feel bubbly and warm. A feeling which has long eluded me in genuinity. I feel free. As if a great burden has been lifted off my shoulders. I am not sure what has happenned. Nor do I believe that it is important for me to find out. I shall revel in my mood for as long as it lasts. No brooding, no regrets, just thoughtful joy. At least for the moment =).

*bump!*

Regret?

Many people have told me that I should carry on and that I should never have tried so hard. Many people who care about me told me that I should not have done what I had done when I was doing it. They called me stupid, they called me less than a man for what I had done for it. Now I look back upon it all... I look at what is happenning now... although I had wished for it to end better but we can't all have our cake and eat it can we? If that were the case we would all lead simpler and happier lives. Despite discouragement from a myriad of people... even the very person I fell for, I held on. Because I was stupid? Less than a man? Because I had bad taste? I held on through the toughest of times, through the roughest of treatments that the ordeal could throw at me. I never gave up... because I believe in You.
There is no typo there. I still believe in You. No doubt I cannot imagine myself with You ever again but I believe in You. I would like to tell You that but I am afraid it has been long since You have had ears for me. I would like to tell You that I still care. I still care about how You are feeling, how your day was, what You are up to, how things are coming along for You. I've wondered for about a year now. I would like to ask You of all these things but life is never that simple is it?
For all those "stupid" things, for what the situation is now, the only regret I have is for being bitter for too long.