Saturday, December 31, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Left in the rain
I felt the raindrops pelt my face, letting them shower me, my silent ritual to appease my disappointment.
It was shameful to think that at this age I would still be concerned over something so trivial. My need to validate myself in comparison to everyone else was pathetic...yet here I stood again, wet in the rain, allowing the clouds to weep for me.
I began my walk back home after feeling that I had spent a resonable amount of time in the cold, my own form of self punishment; if I were to get sick it would be my interpretation that universe was also reprimanding me.
I dragged my feet through the wet, allowing the icy water to attack my toes. The wind slashed at my exposed skin,as the piece of paper I clung at my sides danced to the gale, whipping me as it swayed. It was nudging me, reminding me that I was not as good as I thought I was. It was a token of my broken pride.
The winds howled, lightning tore the heavens asunder like brilliantly white lions roaring as they streaked across the sky. As depressed as I was, I had to admit to my fear of thunderstorms. I quickened my pace and took refuge at the nearest bus stop, allowing the shade to shelter me from the rain.
I was escaping my punishment, I thought miserably.
Lost in my own anxiety, I failed to notice that I was sharing the refuge with another person.
She stared quite intently for a moment, her eyes from the paper I clutched in my hand to the look on my face.
She was silent, as though pondering, and then without notice, she burst out laughing.
Her laughter echoed with the storm, as though the weather was sharing her mirth. I was feeling rather offended, my sorrow gone, replaced with annoyance and embarrassment.
"Don't tell me you're depressed because you didn't get first place?" she hiccuped, unable to completely suppress her laughter.
I didn't know how to answer. My mind was stuck between how she knew what was bothering me and the hot feeling I was getting under the collar.
She read my silence accordingly; her look changed from joy to sympathy.
"Don't you think you being just a little bit...dramatic?" her voice was soft yet not condescending.
"If you keep looking at yourself through everyone else eyes but your own, you're going to lead a very disappointing life...so instead of comparing yourself to them, why not learn from them to better yourself...and compete only with yourself"
The logic of it all sounded so simple, so sane, yet how it eluded me for so long was baffling...I should've realized this a long time ago, yet I've always felt that I would only feel proud of my accomplishments if it were labeled that way by everyone else.
I stared at the piece of paper I held in my hand, thinking back at the amount of time I used to research, the number of drafts I made and that feeling of self achievement I had when I finally handed it in. Staring at the grade I got, I realized it reflected my effort, it was a signal showing me how hard I tried; and to hell with it if I wasn't ranked first, I did what I could, and that's all that mattered.
I turned to thank my stranger, but she was gone. The sky no longer a depressing grey but golden, as the sun peaked from the clouds. A rainbow dazzled the scenery as everything sparkled in the light that bounced of the wet.
I got up, carefully pocketed my paper, and walked back home, feeling like I've left a part of me in the storm.
It was shameful to think that at this age I would still be concerned over something so trivial. My need to validate myself in comparison to everyone else was pathetic...yet here I stood again, wet in the rain, allowing the clouds to weep for me.
I began my walk back home after feeling that I had spent a resonable amount of time in the cold, my own form of self punishment; if I were to get sick it would be my interpretation that universe was also reprimanding me.
I dragged my feet through the wet, allowing the icy water to attack my toes. The wind slashed at my exposed skin,as the piece of paper I clung at my sides danced to the gale, whipping me as it swayed. It was nudging me, reminding me that I was not as good as I thought I was. It was a token of my broken pride.
The winds howled, lightning tore the heavens asunder like brilliantly white lions roaring as they streaked across the sky. As depressed as I was, I had to admit to my fear of thunderstorms. I quickened my pace and took refuge at the nearest bus stop, allowing the shade to shelter me from the rain.
I was escaping my punishment, I thought miserably.
Lost in my own anxiety, I failed to notice that I was sharing the refuge with another person.
She stared quite intently for a moment, her eyes from the paper I clutched in my hand to the look on my face.
She was silent, as though pondering, and then without notice, she burst out laughing.
Her laughter echoed with the storm, as though the weather was sharing her mirth. I was feeling rather offended, my sorrow gone, replaced with annoyance and embarrassment.
"Don't tell me you're depressed because you didn't get first place?" she hiccuped, unable to completely suppress her laughter.
I didn't know how to answer. My mind was stuck between how she knew what was bothering me and the hot feeling I was getting under the collar.
She read my silence accordingly; her look changed from joy to sympathy.
"Don't you think you being just a little bit...dramatic?" her voice was soft yet not condescending.
"If you keep looking at yourself through everyone else eyes but your own, you're going to lead a very disappointing life...so instead of comparing yourself to them, why not learn from them to better yourself...and compete only with yourself"
The logic of it all sounded so simple, so sane, yet how it eluded me for so long was baffling...I should've realized this a long time ago, yet I've always felt that I would only feel proud of my accomplishments if it were labeled that way by everyone else.
I stared at the piece of paper I held in my hand, thinking back at the amount of time I used to research, the number of drafts I made and that feeling of self achievement I had when I finally handed it in. Staring at the grade I got, I realized it reflected my effort, it was a signal showing me how hard I tried; and to hell with it if I wasn't ranked first, I did what I could, and that's all that mattered.
I turned to thank my stranger, but she was gone. The sky no longer a depressing grey but golden, as the sun peaked from the clouds. A rainbow dazzled the scenery as everything sparkled in the light that bounced of the wet.
I got up, carefully pocketed my paper, and walked back home, feeling like I've left a part of me in the storm.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
First Place
As I stand here,
Broken and beaten
I feel my breath still
My soul hollow and eaten
Rain drops fall
The heat in me is gone
how can i stand tall?
When my will has taken it's toll
But...
with a shattered spirit
and broken bones
I will sing my melody
with victorious tones
how can i give up
knowing your still in the race
i will fight to my dying breath
so we can finally share first place!
Broken and beaten
I feel my breath still
My soul hollow and eaten
Rain drops fall
The heat in me is gone
how can i stand tall?
When my will has taken it's toll
But...
with a shattered spirit
and broken bones
I will sing my melody
with victorious tones
how can i give up
knowing your still in the race
i will fight to my dying breath
so we can finally share first place!
Liar
Talents are rare gifts blessed to everyone, but the truly talented know exactly how to harness their abilities to their maximum extent. These are the masters who are revered in their fields of expertise. The kings who reign with their well-practiced superiority, watching them strut with their much deserved predominant pride. It made me envy them. I needed that kind of power.
So I began, with each passing day, I would forge the only talent worth having. Lies.
The principle was simple, Lie to yourself and you can lie to everyone else. But deception is a skill who mastery can take years, still I pushed forward.
You see, I had a system, I myself didn’t have the courage or experience to deceive those around me, but if there was someone else who could lie for me, someone who felt nothing… it would be perfect.
Many would call it and illness to have a split personality, but for me it was a blessing. I had the ability to slip into “the other me” whenever I pleased. He of course, was a brilliant liar, at times even fooling me. “Don’t worry” he assured me every time….”it’s all for the greater good”.
We had to put our progress on the line, if not; all this effort would be wasted…so he told me.
Outside a beautiful café, we lurked, like vultures circling an unsuspecting prey. She walked innocently along, her face showed no sign of malice…but looks were deceptive. Our target was not random, we had to deceive a liar, someone who was at level with our skill, and she was perfect, being victim to her before I had an idea on her abilities.
We stood and stared, eyeing her from head to toe, like a fighter; looking down at his opponent. Soon enough, she noticed us too.
“What a pleasant surprise!!” she exclaimed. Her voice was high pitched, shoulders arced, lips twitched and the veins on her neck tensed.
“Liar” we whispered softly.
So it began…
A delicate tango of lies, an illusion to mask the reality of our lives, we weren’t hiding our shame or pride; we did it for the thrill. Each lie had to be as convincing as the previous and next, one missed step, a broken syllable, a cracked voice and the lie would be detected.
But she was arrogant, as all liars are, soon enough, our trap was laid…the date was set.
Lulled into a false sense of security, she walked so casually to our date, as if I had forgiven her so quickly.
“Idiot” we whispered
She turned around ever so slowly; it was interesting to see her delighted face quickly change to confusion then fright as she noticed the silver barrel of our pistol aimed at her heart. It was poetic, like the changing of the seasons. My finger pulled back and red sprayed the scene, her body fell to the ground, broken and lifeless, like a puppet just cut from its puppeteer.
“Now, we wait…” he told me.
A bright vexing fluorescent hung above, it’s annoying buzz coupled with the grim and hot atmosphere of the interrogation room made it hard to think. But we didn’t have to think, all we needed to do was to tell the truth…our truth.
Thick wires ran from my chest, my arm, to a machine. Every little detail in my heart beat was monitored cameras all around me to detect body language, a microphone to hear the rise or fall of pitch in my voice. No lie could go undetected.
“Did you murder Mrs. Alice?” the interrogator had asked again.
But we held back my answer, to savor the moment, now was the time to show them the mastery of our skill. Unfortunately they would never know the true answer.
“Did you murder Mrs. Alice?” He asked for the third time, the impatience was clear in his voice.
Our throats thickened, our veins pulsed, our heart beat quickened, pupils dilated, lips twitched and tone rose.
“Yes..” we hissed.
“He’s lying” the interrogators told each other in an audible whisper.
A sly smile spread across our face, barely visible, the grin hidden the light of the room. At that moment, I saw my other self, the same satisfaction was apparent in his face. I no longer needed him.
“Liar” I whispered to myself.
So I began, with each passing day, I would forge the only talent worth having. Lies.
The principle was simple, Lie to yourself and you can lie to everyone else. But deception is a skill who mastery can take years, still I pushed forward.
You see, I had a system, I myself didn’t have the courage or experience to deceive those around me, but if there was someone else who could lie for me, someone who felt nothing… it would be perfect.
Many would call it and illness to have a split personality, but for me it was a blessing. I had the ability to slip into “the other me” whenever I pleased. He of course, was a brilliant liar, at times even fooling me. “Don’t worry” he assured me every time….”it’s all for the greater good”.
We had to put our progress on the line, if not; all this effort would be wasted…so he told me.
Outside a beautiful café, we lurked, like vultures circling an unsuspecting prey. She walked innocently along, her face showed no sign of malice…but looks were deceptive. Our target was not random, we had to deceive a liar, someone who was at level with our skill, and she was perfect, being victim to her before I had an idea on her abilities.
We stood and stared, eyeing her from head to toe, like a fighter; looking down at his opponent. Soon enough, she noticed us too.
“What a pleasant surprise!!” she exclaimed. Her voice was high pitched, shoulders arced, lips twitched and the veins on her neck tensed.
“Liar” we whispered softly.
So it began…
A delicate tango of lies, an illusion to mask the reality of our lives, we weren’t hiding our shame or pride; we did it for the thrill. Each lie had to be as convincing as the previous and next, one missed step, a broken syllable, a cracked voice and the lie would be detected.
But she was arrogant, as all liars are, soon enough, our trap was laid…the date was set.
Lulled into a false sense of security, she walked so casually to our date, as if I had forgiven her so quickly.
“Idiot” we whispered
She turned around ever so slowly; it was interesting to see her delighted face quickly change to confusion then fright as she noticed the silver barrel of our pistol aimed at her heart. It was poetic, like the changing of the seasons. My finger pulled back and red sprayed the scene, her body fell to the ground, broken and lifeless, like a puppet just cut from its puppeteer.
“Now, we wait…” he told me.
A bright vexing fluorescent hung above, it’s annoying buzz coupled with the grim and hot atmosphere of the interrogation room made it hard to think. But we didn’t have to think, all we needed to do was to tell the truth…our truth.
Thick wires ran from my chest, my arm, to a machine. Every little detail in my heart beat was monitored cameras all around me to detect body language, a microphone to hear the rise or fall of pitch in my voice. No lie could go undetected.
“Did you murder Mrs. Alice?” the interrogator had asked again.
But we held back my answer, to savor the moment, now was the time to show them the mastery of our skill. Unfortunately they would never know the true answer.
“Did you murder Mrs. Alice?” He asked for the third time, the impatience was clear in his voice.
Our throats thickened, our veins pulsed, our heart beat quickened, pupils dilated, lips twitched and tone rose.
“Yes..” we hissed.
“He’s lying” the interrogators told each other in an audible whisper.
A sly smile spread across our face, barely visible, the grin hidden the light of the room. At that moment, I saw my other self, the same satisfaction was apparent in his face. I no longer needed him.
“Liar” I whispered to myself.
Your voice
I wait here, in darkness and shadow, under the desolate tree of misfortune.
My future seems bleak and hollow. I see only pain and my heavy heart beats miserably knowing the torture of this existence.
But this pain is self inflicted, I have wronged, and I accept the retribution willingly.
I watch this world, his bleeding eyes, I cannot stomach the injustice any longer, but it is not my place to pass judgement.
The violin strings pull back, a music playing my grief.
The drums beat on, my heart synching with the tempo.
The horns roar through the rhythm, claiming their paramount existence, and I scream at the world; a proclamation of my own frustration.
But despite the pain, the hate, the anger and the emptiness, I feel alive.
All I have is my unrelenting spirit to never give up, but it is enough.
I'll spill my blood if it need be, because I know, whatever comes my way...I can deal with it.
So now, I sing my song. The orchestra of my being plays a unique symphony.
I wait here, in darkness and shadow, under the desolate tree of misfortune.
but..
I see the light peering through the foliage, for there is no shadow without light.
I see the roots that birth the tree, for there is no death without life.
I see the chance that fated misfortune, because in the end; good or bad, its still luck.
But most importantly, I see that instead of looking to the future, I should be watching the present, because at this moment it is you who I should be staring at.
So, I add an extra addition into my symphony....
Your voice.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Eternity
The days passed like raindrops, each one splashing through my life leaving only a wet residue of my past. The sun was compassionate; she shone her pity, a warm light playing on my face turning everything golden.
The wind sang songs of comfort and patience, they knew I would sit here, on the road going nowhere...and wait.
Every scene was planned out perfectly, everything was set; but the lead actress was missing. The movie that is my life could not be shot.
The heavens cried softly, stars raining down around me. They couldn't bear to see me wait any longer, "go on" they beckoned; but I refuse to move an inch..."wait for me" you told me, "for you, an eternity" was my answer.
The sun and moon took their turns to display their pity, it happened so fast I couldn't tell day from night anymore, not like I cared...my mind was focused, the only sight I could see was your soft brown eyes stare deeply into mine, then only sound that registered was your beautiful voice that sung in my ears, I dared not touch anything least I forget the last time I felt your warm embrace.
I would live forever, but without you, I am already dead. The days shifted to months, then years and soon decades...still I sat.
My spirit was sore and my body grew weak, but with every painful heartbeat I could feel myself closer to you.
My breath was reduced to sharp gasps for air, everything seemed harder, but I couldn't feel more excited, I knew how close you were.
"Just a little closer" I told myself.
I was tired of counting the hours since you asked me to wait, now not a second went by unnoticed.
I could feel myself slipping away from life, everything seemed blurred, nothing made sense anymore.
The lullabies of day and night were reduced to a monotone rhythm. The beautiful gold that was once my everyday scenery was now a gray scaled portrait that reminded me of only one thing; I was dying.
My eyelids grew heavy, I knew they would never open again once they shut.
How long I had waited.
It's been 80 years since you left me in a car accident, and here where your body was lain, I waited.
I saw my last dawn before I turned blind to the living; but as I closed my eyes, I could see you as clear as daylight.
"You waited" you sang to me.
"For an eternity" I replied, remembering my last sight, I added " and a day"
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