impossible

'i was careless, i forgot'

unnamed

this feeling is inescapable.
its in the tips of my fingers,
its in the roots of my hair.
it burns in the palms of my hands,

its everywhere i go,
and nowhere i can't see.

its in the way i walk,
like ice cracking before an avalanche,
or the tingling feeling before the flame hits,
it poisons every string and fibre of my heart
and crushes against the soles of my feet.

its the blackest river that creeps into a virgin stream.
the only sedative to chain the only dream.
its like cocaine.
taking over my blood.
it steals my senses.
no, it bought them over.

i gave in.
with all my knowledge, and my values.
i gave in.
with all my faith, and my religion.
i gave in.
with all my complaints, all my fears and worries.

even if the universe blanketed me in all the stars,
even if the galaxies gave me their immortal colours,
even if the sun burned me down to the shred of an atom.

you'd still see it.
you'd still be able to see the words painted in red, across my face.
i'm on the other side of the line now.

you were never a victim. 
you have fallen.
climb from this bottomless pit.

its called regret.

drunk

it felt like flying
gliding, sailing,
fleeting away from you.

the other half of me.
the right half.

you saw through me,

this incongruous feeling.

this breach of a parameter.

i crossed the line.

i turned off the lights.
and danced in those laserbeams.

invincible rebel.
come to me.
feed on your weaknesses.
feel free to be anything but 'me'.

i thought i wouldn't be able to remember. but i do. 
i remember everything.
screaming out for you.

inside. all on the inside.
and then the curtains open, 
and there you are.
standing centre stage,
spotless.

and then the mask 
falls off, and they all saw you.
my demon.

the other half.
the wrong half.

carousels

'carousel at Hyde Park'

within a matter of seconds,
the world stops blurring infront of my eyes
the pixels stop morphing
and put down their disguise.

i am called to answer,
in a court of law.
order, They say, is up to me
even if it seemed to grow further and further.

They said,
you. grab it back,
when we pull it away.
you. seize the chance,
when you are given another day.

to live.
pour vivre,
il y a une vie, seulement.

et, je ne suis rien une petite fille, d'accord?
i have a working mind,
and a beating heart.
a will to learn
my strength bestowed by God,
a marvelous start. a marvelous start.

take the world as it is,
that flaming orb in your palm.
let no jester's rhyme turn your head
and no man make you lose your charm.

"take what you can, give nothing back"
hit the road, jack.

you don't live here no more.

"this world is not my home"

here i stand,

'free fall'

the rock she built her dreams on
the child he hoped to see aspire
to fight the against the veil
that was drawn over her eyes
to hide her passion, her thirst for justice.

the child grows everyday
and everyday it thirsts to know
which way is right to know which way to go.
there isn't a corner left to hide in,
as time starts to fly in,
all the alarms start ringing,
its the airpatrol,
black the windows out,
snuff the candles,
go to sleep cold and shivering.
unable to decide which breath to take and when.

what do you do with the power of awareness?
it is not to recognise the trouble you're in,
it is not enough to admit your feelings.
"It is not because men's desires are strong
that they act ill; it is because their consciences are weak."

will i come to you even with the storm raging on?
will i walk blindly towards you over the water?
i feel like i'm drowning already,
irony,
the boat that I want to do the rescue?
I got the colour painted, the size mapped out,
I got the dimensions and the crew.

yet, here i stand,
on the bottom of the sea floor.
i'm staring up and i don't know whether i'm supposed to fight the depths to surface
or whether i'm just down here, chain and ball,

mama, am i supposed to escape this?
or am i supposed to push through?
i keep making these mistakes,
its the only way i've ever learned.

when everything is changing,
what do i hold onto?


i'm trying to figure it out.

the special ones

in the middle of all the action,

the lights go off,

and they flicker.

suddenly everything becomes a scramble of limbs,

a snapshot,

a glimpse,

gone.

those are like the memories with you.

with all of you.

digging deeper into the closets of the incubus,

i find that all that i clothed myself with were

the shadows of a life worth living.

the reflections in the mirror

should be worth seeing face to face.

yet, i'm still so confused when it comes to you.

to all of you.

attraction, it's predatory on the rational values of my soul,

it encroaches on the private borders of my mind,

it brings me back to edge,

it tapdances on those lines,

drawn out in chalk,

they're fading.

i'm trying not to seem shifting.

where's the concrete to lay down the slab

on my chest, on my feet, on my hands,

on my heart.

letting the city swallow me.

keeping myself from the everchanging,

still, my mind runs too fast from the cage

it knows too well...

there isn't any life after this hell.

"hell is a state of being" and being in love is "glamourous hell".

let me know when you're being genuine.

when you're really in love.

because all of them felt the same,

so either i'm fickle, or i'm really good at lying.

come on eileen

I remember watching my two bestfriends dance like crazy to this song. It was my 17th birthday, everyone else had left. We were all dancing, I can remember everything...down to what we were wearing and which lights were on in the house. They were in a world of their own when that song came on. I mean they absolutely loved it. Angharad's weird taste in this music just got me shaking my head, it was expected...but then Steph, who's supposed to have the best music taste among all of us, started going mental with Ango on this song. I was just like, "God, what on earth have you done with my bestfriends??"
I never thought this song was anything special. Like ever.

Then...I watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower. It is a brilliant movie about overcoming your demons, creating new ones, making mistakes, feeling like you were one, and then just, coming out of it all with some sort of purpose at the end of the day...some sort of feeling like life goes on, and those that matter will find you, will come to wherever you are, just to be with you- to click 'replay', and get that old cassette player going again.

Watching Sam, Charlie and Patrick dance to that song, I could relate so much to him, to Charlie...waiting on the sidelines, only to get pulled in by two eager sets of arms, only to be pushed into the chasm between surviving and living. Remember what it felt like taking that breath after being underwater so long? Or what it was to reach the end of the line after a race? Maybe what it was like to reach home and freefall in your bed, dead tired? 

My friends relieved me of my exhaustion. Life isn't about being hyper. Yet, it's still about having the last bit of energy, that'll make you go the mile, even if you're tired. Like Charlie, I was starting to get bad again. There are different kinds of 'bad'. For me, it wasn't the drugs, it wasn't the alcohol, it was forgetting that people do move on if they let themselves. It has been very hard for me, just because I forget sometimes, that it is possible. I need reasons, to go back to being 'bad'. Thing is, if you search for reasons, you'll find them...anything from abuse and poverty to the pressures of being in the limelight and monied. But the point is to look beyond it all, to just freakin' break loose, and let go to give yourself a chance. 

I found that I love starting again. Wipe my slate clean, go on. I'll still be able to make it. I'll still be able to leave my mark. Not because I have to, but because I choose to. I'm trying and although, a lot of things from my past seem to crop up now, I will make sure I will deal with them gracefully. There's nothing else to do if I want to be someone that believes in fairness and truth. 

I realised, after watching that movie...that if I ever got the chance again, things would be different.

It was the 'four of us' that day, posing for that picture, 'la quartet', the wolfpack, lol all our lame ass names. It was. The only thing that hasn't changed is that it is still and will always be, Ango's and Sefa's song. I'd give anything to watch them dance to it again, and you know what? Maybe the next time...I'll join in for sure. 

'for you that love to dance <3 '

MIDTERM SEASON

Fatigue. That's all that I seem to be emitting right now. I keep wandering around  half lost searching for a place to study or work or read or just generally do one damn thing that is productive. 

Without sports, I really feel like my life lacks rejuvenation at this point. Physical workouts are so vital to your mental health, and I guess, until and unless you are pushed to your limits, you won't be able to accept the fact that there are some key ways to get rid of all the tension, stress and anxiety, no matter how lazy you feel.

I miss tiring myself out at rugby practise or playing a game of streetball with my cousins. It's a different sort fatigue lol! One that doesn't make me feel like my life depends on it!
But oh my days, these midterms...they are something else entirely.

I'm just going to let these ones go. Honestly. Still got one more tomorrow. Geography. It's sooo not high school anymore. 

CHOKE

Friendships are great great things to make, especially hard to keep, and absolutely wonderful to have.

If they go well, that is.

It feels like there's an arrow in my chest and all the words I need to say are written on a note that's been pierced through with it. It's like a 'kick-me' sign, or something you'd see...a piece of robin-hood literature on a tree somewhere. I feel looted for loss of a better word.

Looted of my ability to express myself...and currently, trying to speak to a certain someone has been very very difficult. Trusting someone again with the intimacy of your thoughts and the raw nature of your emotion and true self is NOT easy. Obviously. Then, having this weakness...your awkwardness suddenly resembles someone they know, and the only way they can console you is that, they know 'you'll come around', so automatically a bridge is built and a map is drawn, and you will follow the markers set out for you...they wait, you start loosening up, you become really good friends and everyone's happy. 

But the things is, I don't know why its so hard to speak to you. Maybe its this gigantic fear of being vulnerable, or sounding so self-absorbed. Maybe its because I'm so intrigued by you and how good of a person you are. I could never tell you this in person, but I actually really really think you are absolutely amazing. Which is the primary reason why I choke...I don't want to ruin this. You don't know what you're getting into when you ask me 'Why?'. 

Sometimes I feel I should just take a deep breath and take the plunge, and it doesn't matter what you think of me and there's nothing more I want than to not be compared to her. I am so completely done with being compared to 'her'. I'm me. And all I want, is to be honest. With myself and with those that matter.

And you know what the scary thing is? You're starting to matter.

muskoca

"you never step in the same river twice"

I remember I used to be able to guestimate the time of the present day, it was a game for children in our school since watches were something only the rich kids could afford. The fancy golden brass strap with those little hands ticking away. Today, miles and miles away from home, it seems that not only do the 's's become 'z's, but the leaves of the trees in Muskoca are changing to their mortal hues...and yet, I remain unchanged. Stagnant. The hands of a watch that doesn't work anymore.

The lake stretches out infront of me. So much water, a sea of submission, the opportunity for immersion, or then there's me, the last grain of salt... left apart to dissolve in a flurry of emotionally turbulent times.

Today, my mind has the advantage of generating thoughts my conscience can recognise, so much so that it cannot keep up with them. I think louder than I speak now. However, there is no excuse for ignorance, and no fatality worse than it. So I'm gonna try and snap out of it, this isn't silence, this isn't wisdom, this is numbness.

This rudimentary page will serve as another one of my many beginnings. Only today, the awareness with which I have to capture my thoughts add the slow effortless punch to the serious cocktail of practicality and sentimentality, of letting go to hold on, of coming age to appreciate the days of innocence passing...all, so that one day, one that lives for the joy of living in itself can enjoy the sharpness with which opportunity kick-starts the future. 

marilyn monroe

"I've never fooled anyone. I've let people fool themselves. They didn't bother to find out who and what I was. Instead they would invent a character for me. I wouldn't argue with them. They were obviously loving somebody I wasn't." - Marilyn Monroe


These words haunted me so much. They made that little part of you that still lived in my heart come alive again. You awoke, and you agreed. And inside, the two roses that you gave me started crumpling from the inside with the power of that truth. All I heard of you were little stories of two months in Portugal, or the name of that stranger that was a friend, a sister, blowin' in the wind.

I've come so far. Yet, even in Toronto, I still see your face. Not the black angry eyes, or that cold blunt burning face. I still see your inquisitive eyes, that twitch you'd make with the corners of your lips when you weren't sure about something and you didn't quite know how to express the fact that it wasn't what you wanted either.

I wish you had spoken. I wish you argued with them. I wish you understood that at the end of the day, all that I wanted, was to be loved. By you.


You were my Marilyn Monroe.