Holiday Torment

Its a cold day, this time brings a different kind of weather. Its Christmas time, a time of optimism and joy. A time where we can smile and be happy. A time of hope, a time of peace, love and caring. But somehow I cannot feel the spirit of it. This is the first time I can’t even feel it. For the first time in maybe years or ever, I am not looking forward to it.

I wake up everyday with a heavy heart. Every time I open my eyes I feel like its torture, torture that I have to go through all the pain, all day and its not easy. Its not easy, going through the motions, pretending I’m OK but I’m really not. I sometimes find myself sitting somewhere just staring at something but seeing nothing but complete emptiness, even with colorful Christmas decorations and music blaring over loud speakers I still see emptiness. I’m broken, I’m in shambles, forgotten, unappreciated. I guess if you’ve been reading my blog then you know what I’m talking about. Its been like this for the past few months.

I never got a chance to talk to her face to face, we just exchanged messages, somehow she still blames me for her episodes, she blames me for a lot of things and I cannot get my point across, she wouldn’t listen she wouldn’t even give a fuck’s ass whenever I tried to explain things. She wouldn’t listen, mind’s made up. She did blame me for everything, every negative things I’ve done resurfaced without considering how much I’ve given up, how much I sacrificed, never had a chance to say all those things, as if I haven’t done anything positive. It was a whole new level of torment, a torment that eats me away, bothers me, a pain that continues to thrive whenever I wake in the morning.  The kind of torment that makes me wish I never wake up. The kind of pain that I wish she killed me, because I’d rather die than experience all this pain.

People would tell me to give it up, but I’m holding on to whatever hope that is left. No matter how big or small, even a tiny speck of hope is what keeps me sane. If I lose all that then what would life be for me. I hope that one day I turn around, she’s there behind me sleeping, I hope that one day I go home from work and she’s there waiting for me in my bed room. I hope we can be together again, because I’d rather live with her through and face the challenges the world will throw at me, bravely face whatever episodes she will have  and comfort her, I’d rather have an unproductive life with you than be sitting down sun bathing in a resort somewhere with someone and live a lie. If its not her then I’d rather be alone. I won’t let go, never. I’d rather be alone if I’m not with her.

I’ve given everything, and I can still give a lot. If she wants me to change anew, then I’ll change. I love her so much. I love her with all my heart, I don’t want to give up. I’d rather be stuck in this kind of torment.

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Every Little Thing

 

Its rainy, even nature shares my mood. I’ve never been OK, never been close to it since last August. I can smile, enjoy the usual routine but every day seems like a new kind of pain. I encounter a new kind of loneliness and emptiness.

You see, people tell me to move on, let it be, I’ll meet new people, new reason to smile. They tell me not to be with someone who they felt will drag me down. Their advice was to be with someone that will take to better heights, and will appreciate all my efforts and all my sacrifices. Maybe they’re right, maybe I should move on, carry on and be happy again. Yet, I find myself longing for her everyday, every hour, every minute, every second more.

One day I told them, I never asked for recognition for all those things, I never asked for anything in return just love and may be a bit of loyalty. That’s all I asked for her. That’s all, nothing more. She’s the woman that I love. If I loose her forever then I’d rather be alone for eternity. I am convinced that she’s the woman for me. If I ever get a chance to relive my life a million times then, I’ll find her through heaven or hell in every million lives that will be given to me. I will endure pain, death, war, pestilence, a zombie apocalypse, an alien invasion just to find her. There is no force that stop me from loving her.

The Dream that Made Me Cry

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Where do I start? I don’t even know where. I can’t even find the words, find the right things to say. I wonder as I stare into a bleak horizon, and ask myself, will I even find the right words. My thoughts are clouded, yet all I can do is wait. I’ve suffered too much, while the other wined and dined in happiness. In pain, I’ve lost myself again. In anguish I’ve lost my will. I don’t know where to find myself.

As I sat here alone, restless and may be helpless. I find myself thinking of her. I find myself thinking of her. I find myself longing for her. I find myself dreaming of her. I did dreamt of her. I did, yes I did. I remember rushing down the stairs not minding how steep they are, not minding the harm it could cause me, and as I finally took my last step I saw her waiting, smiling at me, she was sitting at our wooden sofa, around her was a half dozen throw pillows in different shades or brown. She was wearing a blue dress, the one she wore when we attended a friend’s wedding. I slowly approached her, she stood up, again smiling, she walked towards me, and I noticed she was a bit taller, wearing that shoes that made her an inch and a half taller. I hugged her, told her how beautiful she is and hugged her even more. Then I woke up punching my bed, punching my wall. I woke up crying. I woke up a broken man. I woke up empty, wishing I never woke up, wishing I stayed in that state. I was happy. I was complete. It was taken from me, I had her in my arms, I had her again.

Sometimes I find myself stuck, stuck here in my room thinking of how things could have been different. I sometimes blame myself for all the crap that I’m in and why I’m lost and broken. Even my will is sapped, my confidence broken, I don’t even know what to do, do I wait? Do I make a stand and take action? I guess I have to reflect.

On A Pale Moonlight

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Door to Nowhere by Ben Folds Photography

 

Remember the feeling of being, well helpless I guess. Trying to find answers to questions you cannot answer. Sometimes its not even questions, you find yourself uncertain. Uncertain on how the events can unfold.

The future can be a paradox, a mystery, a riddle and a locked door while old Fate is standing right in the corner dangling the keys to that door. Sometimes the outcome can suck, sometimes its not, it depends on how you play it. Sometimes you have to break in order get the outcome that you want. Nothing to do but follow through, journey begins whatever the outcome is. But then again most of us would find a way to turn things around.

Its also normal, I guess to cower in fear, in fear of everything falling apart. Maybe Fate can be the darkness, the thunder, that comes from hell and pull you under. I may end up going home, drunk, broken, perhaps you happen to fall of a gutter, smack my head so hard it bled, or just plain stinky while listening to Behind Blue Eyes. I am afraid, I am afraid to dance with the devil in a pale moon light. I guess there’s nothing wrong if I cower, I’d be spared in perhaps the biggest torment in my life. I also think asking Fate to open the door might set me free. I guess, I have to……

You can visit Ben Folds Photography here. link

Reading Empty Pages

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Picture belongs to Pezibear of Pixabay.com

 

Things, well no not things, maybe it is things. So things have not been well, months long (amateur) writer’s block and a lot of other things have happened. I guess things have not been working to me, or whatever. I don’t know shit happens, but this is a different kind of shit, a much smellier pile, putrid, disgusting and absolutely hideous.

Somehow I can’t even see the sun in the sky, the birds in the trees, hear the music that plays on the radio, and a lot of other things. For me those were just images, sounds, animation or I can just write it up to imagination. My mind is blank, in shock maybe as I try to recall things that got me stranded here, at this very moment, a place where the sun doesn’t shine, a place where there are no birds and even music. Darkness once again managed to creep behind me, tapped my shoulder and punched me in the face. It sucks, and of course admittedly partly I am to blame for this, just one innocent fuck up that brought the whole stack crumbling.

I’m just man, only human, I make mistakes but given a chance I bounce back. I’m just a common man, not a superhero. To quote a song from Poets of the Fall all I wanted to do right now is, “sail into the storm, with the waves rushing over to take us (or in this case me), battle against the tide, she was the beacon of my salvation and my starlight.”

I pray that one day, I can now hear even the cries of dolphins, gaze into the light and be hypnotized in her gaze. One day. Its all up to me. I guess.

Promise Her The Moon

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Why am I using a classic Mr. Big song? And why the fuck am I writing? After staring at her for hours as I watched her drifted off to sleep, I felt compelled to. I can’t help go back hours before as we tried to made love in the cold night and the starry skies. I wish the moment would last forever, the warmth of her embrace and the gentleness of her touch. I wished it never ended, and lets say I died in my sleep, I would be at peace knowing that a night with her is my last memory.

I always long to feel her embrace, the moment she wakes up in her slumber. The highlight of my day spending my time with her, no matter how small, even in a matter of seconds, time stand still, the universe stops, God rests. A moment etched in eternity, a moment I wanted for eternity, no, not a moment, but a reality that I wanted. I’d rather spend eternity alone and find her in countless of lifetimes and wait for this exact same moment to happen.

Now that the day has fallen, the dark has enveloped the skies, I can’t help but get out, look at the stars, find the answers, but somehow I end up thinking of despair, grief, and even with those red roses around me. The pavements are much darker, the night winds and even the cigarette as I ponder on things can’t seem to embrace me. I’m broken I guess. I thought I was invincible. brought me down to my knees, begging and hoping, maybe crying. No, not maybe, I am crying as I look up to the heavens waiting for answers, waiting for her.

I felt that at times my words meant nothing, afraid to who I become after dark. I can’t find my way back, back to where I can sit on top of a hill or maybe the mountain with her at my side, and own the universe as we gazed at the stars. Those memories give me strength, hope, but some say hope is for the desperate, but I say hope is for those who have faith, especially to those who took a leap, brave enough to face the challenges of tomorrow. I’ll wait if I have too. take the risk or that leap if I have to, it maybe a fool’s errand but I have to, I will never ever forgive myself if I let her slip away, and even if it takes a thousand lifetimes and generations, I will try to win her back.  She’s to good to be forgotten. She’s to good to be true.

I Hate It When I Drink

my usual companion back in the day

my usual companion back in the day

Yes. I do. A year ago I promised myself no to drink anymore. Why you ask? I told myself if I want to quit smoking, I think and in my opinion that was the first step. Because when I drink cigarette butts would fly all over the place, scatter like dust in the wind. I hate it when I drink, I hate the cold beer drenches my thirst, maybe drown away my problems. Because it can’t quench the thirst that I have inside.

I feel empty, lost, looking for answers and solutions for every question that I have in mind. As I speak I sit in front of my busted up laptop, looking at screen trying to organize the thoughts that fly into my head. Sometimes I’m stuck, stuck at the endless waves of thought rumbling inside my head. And that’s why after months of hiatus I decided to write again, maybe sometimes despair or downing a few bottles help me trying to cope to my dilemma right now.

It all started out with an assurance that was forgotten for some reason, then someone jumped in and slipped right through the trenches. I was distraught, shocked, and felt out of place. I felt like a child losing her mom in a crowded department store, nowhere to go, nowhere to run to, except cry but it seems that even with the help of others I can’t find the right way, perhaps afraid of the circumstances that will follow. Maybe I’m afraid, afraid of the things that might happen, afraid of waking up in a new tomorrow, a dark gloomy one, where ghouls and goblins are out to drag me back into the dark and chain me up. Yes I cried, I shed a tear, afraid, unsure, yet fighting. Fighting a fight that I know I can win, maybe it will tear me apart in the end but sometimes I need to fight in order for me to achieve what I want, or to prove a point. I hate the darkness, its black, its cold, it feels empty.

I hate being pushed away, but sometimes instead of moving on, cutting the connection, you have to keep moving forward, again to prove a point. I hate being pushed away, its painful, it sucks and it can break a person, I know how it feels. But what if fighting would show how much you can strive and prove to someone that you’re strong, and you won’t just fade into black, that might mean much. Pushed away, rejection, I always hated it, never want to experience it again.

Again I hate it when I drink, I hate the feeling of stiffness that sometimes I feel, I hate the way it gives me headaches if I drink too much, I hate it when I had a hard time sleeping because of it. I hate it when its the only thing that makes me sleep.