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



Tuesday, April 18, 2006

BELTANE: 11 DAYS; SENSITIVITY, BOUNDARIES, PAIN, EXHAUSTION

For many years, I've been told by a lot of people that I'm a cold, heartless person. My whole family has said that: bro, sis, mom, dad, even my domestic helper.

And I'll gladly admit: I am a heartless bitch most of the time. And I don't care about what that makes me, or how people view me.

However, I'm not insensitive, most of the times, at least. Strange and ironic as that sounds, yeah. I'm heartless, but not insensitive. Go figure.

But I need to learn how not to overstep into people's boundaries; I need to learn when I can or cannot do or say certain things.

---

For the past two to three weeks, my back's been getting worse. Everynight, when I curl up on my side to sleep, slinging one leg over my bolster, my back aches, and the muscles tighten uncomfortably. So I've taken to sleeping on my back now.

Gah.

---

I'm tired.

I give up.



Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Balance.

How does one find a balance in a relationship? in life? in everything one does?

He wwas bogged down with worry, with a lot of frustration over many things, one of which was his feeling helpless with regards to me.

I'm not the easiest person to handle, I know; mostly because I don't like to burden people with my problems, with my darkness, with my need for solitude. What weighs me down the most is the fact that I was the one who contributed to it.

Bleah.

Internal paradigm shifts. My whole perspective on things has been twisted, broken, and reformed. And, it is now going through the whole process again, on the way to fixing itself back into another shape I can't make out for now.

I've never been so sure of where I want to go, but yet, never so full of doubts. It's like the mountaineer who climbs to the top of the highest peak, upwards, into the clouds, into the fog, longing for a chance to gaze far off. And, when he reaches the top, his reward is to see but glimpses of the far off he was working so hard for: the clouds move, part, and re-merge, never allowing for more than brief moments of clearness, but are always so hiding of their sights.

Honestly, I can't help but to retreat within myself, into the emotional fortress I've built under the guidance of B. I need time to sort things out, for these shifting perspectives to fit into some sort of a pattern, before I can make sense of them. I find myself unable to emphatize with people. I find myself getting annoyed very easily; getting very snappish at the merest hint of insult or annoyance. I find myself needing, craving for space, both within and without, needing space from people everywhere. I simply cannot relate to anyone at the moment. While things are changing inside, I'm cold, apathetic, uncaring; I don't want anyone to bother me.

That's why I can't wait for the drum to arrive. And I hope it does, soon. I still feel the deep beats of the bodhran coursing through me; I dream of the drum and its beats, connecting me to the earth. I can't wait for the Tarahumara drum I ordered to arrive. Then I will go out into nature, and drum, singing and dancing with it.

I'm rather confused nowadays, torn apart inside, tormented by self-created and external demons. I don't need nor want anyone to pull me in any direction any further. I don't need to feel more messed up.



Friday, December 02, 2005

I finally told him: about how, in the end, if things ever got to the point of marriage, I'm really sorry, but I know where I stand with my beliefs, and I don't think I can accept and/or convert to Islam.

I can learn, yes. And I can respect the religion itself, and that he believes in it; but I cannot accept it myself.

Now, knowing where I stand and having made my stand, this relationship has been made into a cul-de-sac, simply because Islamic laws require one party to convert in a marriage. I've heard that if they don't have kids, the female doesn't have to convert, but honestly, I don't know how true it is, and I don't know if he can accept that I won't convert even as I (might) live with him.

Do you still want to be with me then?

Yes, yes, I do.

He wants to try things out. The point of this relationship for him is that both of us don't regret: especially in the fact that things might never work out if we never did try in the first place.

That's true, yes. But well, I dunno. If I had to choose between regretting, and not feeling the pain of separation down the road, I don't know which one I will take. I don't know if I'm strong enough to face the pain, to face new pain, even if I'm used to holding it deep.

He wants to try. And I guess, for his sake (and yes, I do want to try as well), I'll do so, too. And, if nothing else, if I find my feelings for him being impeded because of the cul-de-sac, help him heal as a person, me as a shaman.