If I keep trying to convince myself that you aren't real, maybe I'll finally stop imagining what it'd be like to have you around. Shouldn't letting go be easy when you're not holding on to anything?
Somehow it feels like I'm floating in a state of limbo. I'm tired of looking for traces of you (whoever you are...) in days, places, words, silhouettes; tired of feeling helpless the minute I do. I should know better than to rely on something as indefinite as chance.
I guess it's my fault for parading my heart's contents every chance I get. I can't help it. Patience has never been my strong point.
Tuesday 29 November 2011
Friday 25 November 2011
Saturday 19 November 2011
Friday 18 November 2011
Anchor
I'm usually one who brushes off marriage as (to put it lightly) a simple yet taxing way to put a king sized bed to good use - other than it's obvious purpose of sustaining the human race.
Today I found myself stranded in a newly revamped mall thanks to the mini hurricanes we frequently have the pleasure of enjoying in this charming tropical country. I packed a whimsically sardonic book beforehand so I did what I was clearly fated to do: get some pastries, sit my ass down and burn my tongue on some diluted coffee.
So there I was, completely shut off from the world when this kid -who couldn't have been more than a year old- suddenly came jetting past my table. It might have been my maternal instincts kicking in (not betting on it), but I was immediately drawn to this burst of energy gallivanting across the small bakery - which was overpriced like a muthaaa, but that's besides the point .
After what seemed like twenty laps, seventy air kicks and three hundred jumping jacks later, the kid retreated to the arms of an elderly couple. For the sake of my story, I'd like to believe that they were his grandparents and that he was not a product of a contraception slip up.
Old people sex...right, let's not go there.
This picture got me thinking. When these two were my age, had they imagined such a life? Arms entwined past the age of 50, crayons strewn on a table, stroller in check; holding a creation spawned from their very own offspring.
In the past, were they as jaded as I am now? Only interested in the wacky and impulsive side of companionship rather than it's long term sibling who has a stick up his ass and manages to suck the fun out of everything.
Much like the building I was in, I tried to examine parts of myself that had been smashed apart and rebuilt. I've kept it empty for a while; in fear of it collapsing from any emotional weight that might strain hidden cracks in my spirit.
Do I ever covet a lasting relationship and the insanity that it entails? Sometimes, more often than I dare to state but most of the time I'm just too cautious.
I gotta admit though, the three of them seemed downright happy.
Today I found myself stranded in a newly revamped mall thanks to the mini hurricanes we frequently have the pleasure of enjoying in this charming tropical country. I packed a whimsically sardonic book beforehand so I did what I was clearly fated to do: get some pastries, sit my ass down and burn my tongue on some diluted coffee.
So there I was, completely shut off from the world when this kid -who couldn't have been more than a year old- suddenly came jetting past my table. It might have been my maternal instincts kicking in (not betting on it), but I was immediately drawn to this burst of energy gallivanting across the small bakery - which was overpriced like a muthaaa, but that's besides the point .
After what seemed like twenty laps, seventy air kicks and three hundred jumping jacks later, the kid retreated to the arms of an elderly couple. For the sake of my story, I'd like to believe that they were his grandparents and that he was not a product of a contraception slip up.
Old people sex...right, let's not go there.
This picture got me thinking. When these two were my age, had they imagined such a life? Arms entwined past the age of 50, crayons strewn on a table, stroller in check; holding a creation spawned from their very own offspring.
In the past, were they as jaded as I am now? Only interested in the wacky and impulsive side of companionship rather than it's long term sibling who has a stick up his ass and manages to suck the fun out of everything.
Much like the building I was in, I tried to examine parts of myself that had been smashed apart and rebuilt. I've kept it empty for a while; in fear of it collapsing from any emotional weight that might strain hidden cracks in my spirit.
Do I ever covet a lasting relationship and the insanity that it entails? Sometimes, more often than I dare to state but most of the time I'm just too cautious.
I gotta admit though, the three of them seemed downright happy.
Thursday 17 November 2011
Atlas Hands - Benjamin Francis Leftwich
I will remember your face
'Cause I am still in love with that place
But when the stars are the only things we share
Will you be there?
'Cause I am still in love with that place
But when the stars are the only things we share
Will you be there?
Out of place.
Last weekend it really hit me.
As a steady rush of sea water planted my feet in the sand, mother earth clung on to me like a child. For the first time in a long time I felt wanted by something larger than my being.
As I scurried heart first towards the ocean, I remember how in that instant the cerulean air greeted me and I had wished to be swallowed whole.
As I watched the sky etched in colours that stirred symphonies in my soul.
Like clockwork, the moon and the sun exchanged private glances
as they traded shifts giving Sunday it's first hint of dark.
Vast roads expand exponentially around me as I lay so comfortably still in familiarity. The world demands my thumping footsteps yet I am so small. I cannot picture leaving. I cannot imagine creeping up to life and rattling its bones with my delusions of grandeur.
What I'm trying to say is this: I am not only a speck, not only a dot but -I say this with love- I am molecular.
Though I long to be so much more.
As a steady rush of sea water planted my feet in the sand, mother earth clung on to me like a child. For the first time in a long time I felt wanted by something larger than my being.
As I scurried heart first towards the ocean, I remember how in that instant the cerulean air greeted me and I had wished to be swallowed whole.
As I watched the sky etched in colours that stirred symphonies in my soul.
Like clockwork, the moon and the sun exchanged private glances
as they traded shifts giving Sunday it's first hint of dark.
Vast roads expand exponentially around me as I lay so comfortably still in familiarity. The world demands my thumping footsteps yet I am so small. I cannot picture leaving. I cannot imagine creeping up to life and rattling its bones with my delusions of grandeur.
What I'm trying to say is this: I am not only a speck, not only a dot but -I say this with love- I am molecular.
Though I long to be so much more.
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