Seeking closure

Meeting up with an ex is an ironic experience. You wonder if you still have that anger in you, or you speculate if she would turn nostalgic and revive virtually forgotten embarassments. Or even worse, she brings the new man in her life just to prove she's travelled a thousand miles, while you're still stuck in this pathetic ditch of self-obessesd singlehood. However, as she takes the seat in front of you and starts sharing her life, you conclude that none of those foolish notions you had the night beofore really mattered at all.

So it has been half a decade, and the both of us have our own lives now. I felt so old looking at her, even though time had failed to dim the glow of her youth. She still carried the same style of being blur and demure, which made her endearing yet frustrating when we were together. She was shocked to learn that I chose journalism over research, while I was amazed she could stay single for so long.

It was her way of taking back the memories. The blink of her eyes, the smile on her face, her reservation on the dinner table and her silent laughter at every single pun I played. She seemed to be the small girl that desired to be entertained, whenever I was around. It felt familiar for that brief moment, like an adult who sits on the carousel that is broken beyond repair, with only his imagination alive to make it move.

She left me that day, no longer the same person I knew. There were many things I said to her years ago and I reckoned she took a few of those words very seriously, otherwise she won't be where she is today. I always thought I was the clever ass, but it was always the shy bitch who stole my heart and broke it a million times.

I wondered at how my stupidity could tickle her intelligence, even as my thoughts drifted to all the interesting women in my life. They were beautiful in the eyes of the world, but complicated by their own lives . I made them laugh, and they loved me in return, but it was ever a one way track. At the end of the day, like a clown closes the circus, there wasn't an audience below the stage, and nothing to even make me smile.

The confessions of St.Joel part I

On Amor
Forgive me, for I know not what love is. Love me, and I will only break your heart. I am too full of self to be devoted to the needs of my signifcant other. So I pine for that special someone every day, but I know happiness, it it ever existed, was never mine to give. Vain fools are destined to fall beneath the pillars of their own foolish hopes, thus I am such a man. All the charm and romance are but echoes in the cellar, what meaning is there if one gains the whole world but loses the love of his life?

On Comitis
I admonish my brother, and I stumble under the same weakness. I have judged too much, and forgiven few. Grudges cling onto my soul, and I rot under the burden of their misery, with the dust clouding my eyes and judgement. What you have done, I have done too, and we are like blind hypocrites who make each other fall. You are ill, and I have stood by your side, bore your leprosy with you, but I have become cynical while you become deluded. I tended to your wounds, and you guided me with your wisdom. If you die, will it end? Will I still be able to write out your memories?

On fides
I came back, but I never expected to feel this way. The calling seemed lost, and frustration set in. I questioned the unequal yoke, the ties we made with those who did not share the mission. I have been carnal, and my actions and words were never approved. But in the midst of confusion, i kept the faith, refusing to be bound by the chains of the church or its rituals. What I saw went against the laws engraved on the firmament of my heart, yet I feared man and submitted to them, like a dog who has lost its bite. I watch them abandon those who sinned but fervently searched, and embrace the pagan with open arms to spread the word. Evangelism has been secularized, but I am no reformer, for I too like the brother who is lost, have reveled in the pleasures of indulgences for far too long.

Living in a coma

Shit...its one of those rare states of alcohol intake, nioctine inhalations and sleepless nights. I hate the way the euphoria numbs my taste buds and buries my living anxiety, only to see the zombies walk again at daybreak. Stricken with an acute absense of emotion, I struggle to stay awake. I want to break the habit at its core, even though my fingers and eyelids tremble.

This world is so small, and everytime I step into a club, it seems I've got myself into a multiple reunion of long lost kindred. Pictures, memories from the past all surface as one embraces the forgotten. It's heartwarming, when you think of those who carried you on their shoulders so you could see the world. It becomes sad, when you realised that you were the one who left them for it.

So even if reunions are bliss, the noise and smoke that brings these people back into my life becomes the final farewell for those I kept by my side. While bonds were renewned over a glass or two, final well wishes were uttered to the fateful departed. We danced, we laughed and we shared. Surely it wasn't the usual me, for there were breaks of moments where I sat by the darkened bar myself, watching vamps writhe seductively across the stage, and feeling the red water burn down my parched throat.

That night, it seemed everything was larger than life, because I sat on the shoulders of giants all over again.

P/s: Nice meeting you again Big Guy. If we talked any longer, I may have just cried. Chen, don't ever say I don't club with you, least you stuck with me and hooked up a few babes before you left for good. Kelvin..marcus...my trainees now SIRS...remember to give the veteran gunner a break from his reservist, if you do get the chance.

Au revoir

Mystère aigre-doux

A strange drug had the follwing nutirtional facts:
Cute...but not captivating
Interesting...but not infectious
Small...but not sexy
Noisy...but not noiticeable
Crazy...but not capricious
Introspective...but not introvert
Sociable..but not sensational
Naughty...but not neglecting

Try taking a pill like that..bite it before you swallow, without any water. Think about freedom and love too, because you will have to sacrifice one, in order to gain the other. Nothing is ever fair, and love and war are smiling at you now, like twin kittens of the long forgotten Chesire Cat, along with fireflies that laugh in the dark. It rains in the desert of emotion, and you are lost, blinded by the acid on your eyes. Makes you wonder if being human was such a fantastic experience, and you doubt if immortality will ever return. You know, the way you knew it, like a goddess that walked on the horizons of your mind. Yeah, the end that could never be achieved no matter how much you tried. Go on and laugh, its tears you apart, and pieces you back again.

Welcome to the butterfly effect of the bittersweet mystery.

When I grow up

When I was 3, I wanted to be spiderman, climbing walls and saving people from the clutches of evil villains who desired to rule the world. I didn't think Mary Jane was cool, but I if she wore a costume and flew on webs with me, it would be quite cool.

When I was 13, I wanted to be a rock star, like Axl Rose or even Bon Jovi. I loved the drums more than my parents and friends, and I could play them for hours, catching every single rhytmn and beat. I wanted to be on stage, to hear the girls scream my name, to write my name on their faces, with showers of lights on mine.

When I was 21, I wanted to be Shakespeare, because I thought that if I had his words I could win her heart, for she brought me to my knees. If an angel came to earth, I would have known it was her. So I put my mind, my love and my soul into the pen. I thought and I dreamt, until I felt her no more.

When I was 23, I wondered if it ambition was worth anything. I questioned why we grow old and misunderstood, why foolish dreams take us nowhere, and whether we could love and not grow old.

Educational Revolution

It's been close to six months since I founded the coalition government. Haha ok I won't give myself all that credit, but it was only today that I realised how much we have expanded. Yes, back then it was only the trinity of me LP and yeah Tushar the Destroyer. Everyone knows everyone now, we're so prominent we make no effort at introductions anymore, our reputation precedes our presence. If only shy bitch could be part of the gang, I would be blogging about having my future wife....right here right now.

I should slap myself and stop dreaming. Right-wing radicals have now assumed power within our party, how cool is that? And to think I am still trying to be Rasputin the sex machine when Lenin and his gang of red starlets are going to storm Tsar Wilfred's palace anytime soon? He should have seen it coming, economic stress on clueless educational policies, how could the serfs of his huge country ever take it. He can't communicate, gives the citizens wrong answers and still smiles like a bathing ape? I am afraid even The Monarchial Council will not be able to cover his sorry ass.

So come monday, we're gonna pass the legislation of the new Bolshevik government. I'm actually into semi-retirement, even though they persistently want me to preside. Come on, let an old haggard man hang his metal and take a backseat? I'm finding it hard not to be ambivalent about this issue. Even if we fire his ass out of the school and someone takes over, who can guarantee we'll get cheryl tan the second? I am slapping myself now...Jill you shouldn't have tempted me!!! Now I only dream of forbidden fruit.

Aarrggh...monday we'll plan the coup, friday we'll raze the walls of St Petersburg to the ground. Let's hope by next week, we'll see Mata Hari on the art of communication.

Goodnight