Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Awash.

Every single person is a polar entity, at least in the emotional sense. Where one is shown the other is hidden, unknown to anyone, sometimes not even to oneself. Very much like Mother Theresa who often spoke of utter spiritual darkness in her solitary letters.

How do i begin? I dont even know. All the thoughts awash in some maelstorm.

'What are you doing? Why have you sealed yourself away?'
i said nothing
'Why are you doing this? You don't even talk at all. Not even during mealtimes.'
i am not saying anything
'The more you do this, the more worried i get.'
I can take care of myself, there's no need to get worried.
'I am worried because you don't even tell me anything.'
That's because you ask too much
'Precisely because i care'
I remain silent
'You don't realise how worried and anxious i am?'
Can you stop probing?
And give me some privacy?

And the debate goes on... I'm not even listening anymore.
Oh if she would stop asking and leave me be.
She doesn't have to know everything.
She isn't leading my life.
Surely she realises i must have some modicum of privacy.

There are just so many things that cannot be said.
Ignorance is bliss no?
Then maybe without the stress of opening up.
My walls would slowly melt away.

And then i realise, such a rift may last forever. She being who she is, duty-bound to give, and never receive. It pains me as much as it pains her. We are all doing what we do to keep us from harm, and all the good that has done is conjure a wall of silence, with muffled pleas at the other end which i try to ignore, and yet still reverberate with such bitter sentiments in me.

It's inexplicable.
Because she's my mother.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

I hate it.

I wish i had the miraculous gift to express myself clearly through my words. Everything's like flying in and out of my head like some giant info interchange, but nothing stays, and i'm grasping at random thoughts, when strung together, sound like absolute incoherent gibberish. In the end, i look stoopid.

How do i spend my time?

Inside of Me

I don't understand. Life can get so complicated, such a delicate thing to manuvre through. A misstep can mean disaster. My thoughts are going completely wild now. There seems to always be a mountain of things to accomplish, and when it weighs down on me that i may never finish them, the crushing sense of failure is overwhelming. No. I'm not just talkin about worklife, of the limitless workload. But of everything else, friends i have not met in ages, seeking to relive the old days while my schedule is vehemently against it. And i sit helplessly waitin for the memories to go stale. When time has washed away everything, all we will be are mere acquaintances.

Had the feeling of making a to-do list?
-Gonna meet friends from a long time ago
-Find some personal time
-Slow down and find connect with someone
-Follow a fitness regime

Yet that to do list often fades away into nothingness.
Then all i have is a sense of here and now.
Only a sense of presence with no sense of direction.

Desire so strong it consumes me inside out. Because i know ultimately the desires for everything are nothing but empty wants. And i am left a husk.

Overwhelmed by a society so fake i just wanna hide away and find some truth.
Maternal love that could stifle and suffocate me, yes i want to hide away.
Yet so alone in this abyss, i want some company.
A living dichotomy.
Would you listen? Open your heart to listen?