Tuesday, January 23, 2007

I've come to realize after all these years that when I reach down to the very essence of things, I have almost no friends at all.

Maybe my definition of a "friend" is different from others'. I don't know. Sure, there's YP, and there's Piggy. And then, who else is there, really?

No, I'm not bitter about it. But I feel a bit...sad. I know I'm extremely selective with who I let into my innermost circle, and that's why I have very few friends at any given time. YP and Piggy...I've known them for over six years. Yet, our friendships doesn't feel as tight and as strong as the friendships of others I've seen, who've known each other for the same time, or less.

And...I have to wonder why. I see others with the same few select friends, and I see an almost unfailing loyalty there. While, for me, I see...almost nothing.

Small wonder I feel I'm alone in the world most of the time.

I've come to realize after all these years that when I reach down to the very essence of things, I have almost no friends at all.

Maybe my definition of a "friend" is different from others'. I don't know.

Sure, there's YP, and there's Piggy. And then, who else is there, really?

No, I'm not bitter about it. But I feel a bit...sad. I know I'm extremely selective with who I let into my innermost circle, and that's why I have very few friends at any given time.

YP and Piggy...I've known them for over six years. Yet, our friendships doesn't feel as tight and as strong as the friendships of others I've seen, who've known each other for the same time, or less.

And...I have to wonder why.

I see others with the same few select friends, and I see an almost unfailing loyalty there. While, for me, I see...almost nothing.

Small wonder I feel I'm alone in the world most of the time.



Sunday, January 21, 2007

The familiar slices on the arm. The all-too-familiar grip of the blade.

The drag of sharpness across the skin.

The welts.

The stinging.

Phantom scars.

Real sensations.

I didn't dare go further and draw blood. I'd have lost control and go walking down this road all over again if I did.

Glorious control and memories.

I feel more in control of what I'm doing now. My head is surprisingly muddled, yet clear, and I can plan slightly better.

It feels even better across the neck and jagular vein.

Bah.

Control.

I made my decision.

I made my promise.

And with the very act of promising it, I've started to kill myself faster.

I already feel the despair pressing in, the pressure, the stress. I already feel the demands of the promise exacting its toll.

The road was still forked before I decided. Now, with this choice, I already know my end.

The promise will be held. There will be no two ways about it.

Decision-making in the process.

It won't go on for much longer.

For life, and especially for death, this will stop soon.



Friday, January 19, 2007

This is going to be a summary of the past two nights.

18 January, 2007; Thursday
Went to Pulau Ubin with Az and Ru. It didn't rain much, which I was greatly for. And I thought I did much better navigating the tracks and trails than I did the first time.

Surprisingly, my body or legs didn't ache the next day at all. Interesting.

After that, spent time alone with Az, and that was the most interesting part.

Perhaps because of the exhaustion after cycling intensely at Ubin, but that evening became free reign for basal and animalistic instincts and actions. It was as if all inhibitions from previous episodes had ceased to exist for that time. We were like two animals which had decided to mate, for life. There was a raw feeling of need, yes, but also of want, and a desire to mark a claim on the other.

I'm filled with the imagery of two wolves, or two jaguars, or even a wolf and a jaguar, nuzzling, head-pushing, pawing a little, bodies intertwined, licking the other's fur, leaving our own scents on the other to mark him/her for our own, so that no others of our own kind would be daring enough to intrude between the both of us.

It was powerful; it was raw; it was wild; and it was a lot more passionate than any other times we'd done it even though the sexual acts were a lot less. It brought the whole relationship to another level of trust and...and...I don't know.


19 January, 2007; Friday
Fatalistic feeling again.

'nuff said.



Monday, January 15, 2007

The tears wanted to come. I wanted to cry.

But I refuse to allow myself to.

Dejection.

Despondency.

Depression.

Discouragement.

Death.

Been almost a year since my last post.

I think maybe I should come back to this place more often: this place of almost-true solitude, where I like to believe no one else but me knows exists. And well, maybe the random stranger whose opinions I don't care for.

I've gone through fluctuations, ups and downs and ins and outs. And I'm no closer to my goal of being away than the last time I wrote.

I say I'm exhausted, and I truly am; exhausted, defeated, dejected, and discouraged. But who am I to complain, really? Who am I to say I am all of those when I see friends and loves also going through the same thing, and still trudging on, though valiantly or not, I don't know.

It has actually come to the point where there is no more pain, no more drive, no more hurt, and no more apathy. Everything has come to a stage of simply being numb. And I find myself being numb to all else: to school, to the act of looking for a job, to horseriding.

Where has everything gone?

I've never felt so old as I do now.

And yet, I'm still in this status quo of my life. I'm still abiding by my dad's rules, living in his house, semi-relying on him financially.

I thought I couldn't care less; I thought I didn't care anymore.

So why am I still here?

Begone, begone
You are a mere wraith