// I write you read but don't expect much

Friday, September 28, 2012

How are we?

How have we been?

For me, life has pretty much become a routine; I survive it by riding the motion and not going against it. The overwhelming demands and let downs have left me jaded - well sort of, I think. Sleep time has become a luxury, but I find myself procrastinating nonetheless. I still question the 'whys'. Fortunately, it does not stir up that ineffable emotions, at least not for a prolong period as per before. I've have become more mellow - losing interest in many things, not attempting to bitch or be sarcastic (even when I'm not asleep). In prayers, I pray for the strength to not allow anyone to affect my feelings. Yet, deep down, I know that no one is actually affecting me, but me. I'm such a walking contradiction. So as I search for a meaning, or a someone/thing to reinvigorate me, to reignite the spark that once kept me going, I continue to live life - with a weak smile, and that white lie telling me that tomorrow will be better.

I've always been a 'words' person, appreciating both oral & written proficiency. Nonetheless, no books have made me tear, at least not till I chance upon the extract from 'Sarah, Plan and Tall' by Patricia MacLachlan.

"And she names me Caleb," he went on, filling in the old familiar story."I would have named you Troublesome," I said, making Caleb smile."And Mama handed me to you in the yellow blanket and said ..." He waiting for me to finish the story. "And said ...?"I sighed. "And Mama said, 'Isn't he beautiful, Anna?'""And I was," Caleb finished. Caleb though the story was over, and I didn't tell him what I had really thought.

Human beings are by nature 'story' creatures, often taking learning points from lived experiences and events. The reason why, even though fiction is about people who never existed and events that never happened, is because all fictional people & events are based on and anchored in 'reality'.

"Why did you choose to talk to me?" I queried, deliberately asking this repeated question.
"Have I not tell you the reason before?""You did, but I have forgotten." I retorted with a cheeky smirk."Too bad then." was that reply I got."Oh tell me, please." I playfully pleaded, in a tone akin to a whine.A sigh at first, then came the mumbled reply. "Because I find you cute.""What?" "Because. I. Find. You. Cute."I smiled - proud of my accomplishment, yet oblivious to what lied ahead.

2nd January'12. 13th January'12. 23rd January'12. 28th January'12.

My memories will soon be the cause of my death.

A small part of me does not give a shit, but a large part of me died.

I know that everything happens for a reason, but it would be nice if I could know some of the reasons why. The heart - still a heavy one.

So how are we? And who are we?

Yours,

the boy with a dead heart.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 11:46 PM |

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Age has made me more mellow.

A quick scribble as I await for my hair to dry.

In youth we learn, in age we understand.
I concur to this axiom.

I had a liberating albeit short meet-up with them;
and it left me feeling thankful.

Friends come and go,
particularly the latter for me,
since I'm just that queer.

Some, of no fault of theirs but mine - of whom I nonetheless owe an apology.
Others I choose to walk away from for the better good.

Sometimes, I just expect more from those few,
only because I'll be willing to do that more for them.
Perhaps everyone just expresses themselves differently.
Expect nothing to gain happiness.
Anything that comes will be a bonus.

I will accept others for who they are,
like how others accept me for who I'm.

Age has made me more mellow, definitely.

Imu.

the boy with a dead heart.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 1:29 AM |

Monday, September 10, 2012

the heart is a heavy one.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 8:22 PM |
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Jaded.

My BlackBerry decided to die on me.

I'm not vexed by it's demise;

What's irritating me is that I did not back-up my contacts.

I guess people fail me.

Technology fail me.

The only person that I'll will not allow to fail me, is me.

***

For the last time,

[Little Alden]

With the den underlined.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 12:07 AM |
Monday, September 3, 2012
An apology.

If there's one thing that should happen,
it will not be for time to turn back.

Rather, it will be for me to extend an apology to that one person.

An apology long overdue.

Alongside, I give you my blessings.

the boy with a dead heart. posted at | 12:16 AM |