It doesn't matter if others don't understand what you are trying to say. Not everything has to be black and white. Only the writer needs to fully comprehend what is being written. Even so, some writers are unable to make sense of what they have just penned down. Ultimately, readers have the freedom to interpret it, however way they want to. That is how magnificent words can be. One word can mean different things to different people at a different point in time.

Labels: Thoughts, Writing

Religion, is such a chore to me right now.

As I typed that sentence, an avalanche of guilt just sits heavily on my chest.

"When you sin big time against God, then you'll be cursed", she said.

Am I really cursed for life? I'm human, I make mistakes, I wish I could be perfect all the time but I can't. I wish I never made the grave mistakes I did but I can't turn back time to right my wrongs nor can I erase them. They are a part of me now, a part of who I am, for as long as I roam the face of this earth. They are what made me and as much as I'm ashamed of them, I've learnt. I've learnt that guys are jerks, people come and go. No one stays for you, everyone leaves for themselves. I've learnt that people can be so selfish no matter how selfless you are. I've learnt that some only take without giving, even though they seem to be giving but they aren't. They are selfish people, they are hoarders, they are keepers. They refuse to give because they don't see the beauty in giving at all. Selfish acts breeds selfish people. I used to be one in a million. Now, I've become one of the milllions.

Maybe if I did without religion, I wouldn't be feeling so vexed. I wouldn't be feeling so confused. I wouldn't wake up guilt-ridden everyday trying my best to do whatever to get back to wherever I was. Let's face it. I'll never be the same person before, I'll never return to where I was. Every second in life, something is changing, you're never in the same place in your mind as you were a second before. Is there no light for me at the end of the tunnel? Am I beyond repair, beyond saving? One minute I'm told, "There's always a way back no matter how far you are". The next I'm told, "Your sins are grievous, you are cursed". Then I'm told, "I am loved".

And if I did without religion, I wouldn't have to worry about every move I make around people. I wouldn't have to bother whose hand I held or did not hold. I could go out with anyone without having to worry about the consequences. Yet, that is the very part that destroys everything - doing things without worrying about consequences. I'm tired of being responsible, let me be irresponsible for a few days. But wait, what happened the last time I threw away all inhibitions and responsibilities? Disaster.

I've seen so many come and go to know that you're not going to be around for long as well. Everyone should just stay away from me and spare both of us the pain of losing another. Ever since things took a turn for the worst, I should've known that nothing good would ever stay, ever again. It just makes me want to cry knowing that I'm not going to have your wonderful company for long. 

To quote a wonderful, beautiful, creative, fantastic, magical friend,
"Who am I? What am I? I am nothing."

Labels: Life, Thoughts, Writing

I wear a smile everyday so that everything would be instantaneously better 
but is that a genuine smile? 

I'm not spilling myself out to people around me like I used to anymore 
but am I withholding too much?

I care less
but am I displaying extreme apathy instead?

I feel like everything's finally calm now
but is it? 

I'm in control, I'm where I want to be right now, 
I'm back where I started before all the shit happened
or am I?

Labels: Thoughts, Writing

I almost made the mistake of letting my pain shape me
thinking it would be this sad and beautiful thing
I would be a walking novel about what you lost
and people would quieten their voices when I walked by
out of respect, because a ghost just flew by on a gust of wind
I imagined my sad eyes, and my mouth set forever
in a lost little girl pout, glossed over in pink coral
fumbling with my notes, and the letters that I wrote
in a dark corner of the coffee shops and bars around town
I imagined my suicide dress, and how I’d never take it off
and if someone did, they’d find the truth etched into my skin
they would understand the weak and fragile things
the sad beautiful girl lying there next to them, with a yoke
tied to her heart, threatening to crush everything
It wasn’t until after I realised that none of that would happen
your sadness, no matter how deep, is all your own
and every minute, you, as a sad girl in a black dress
with messy hair and chewed off fingernails
claw onto a past and a feeling you don’t think you can shake off
so I let go, and as soon as I did, I saw the sun peak
over the mountains, and it was a new day, a new year

Labels: Life, Thoughts, Writing

I still miss Lala so much at times like these, even though it has been 9 months; even though he has completely moved on happily with someone else; even though I would never cross his mind again.
I’ve been thinking, after all the pain he had caused me, why would I miss him? I should be angry, I should be full of spite towards him. But no, I still wish he was around; I still wish I could spend the late nights out with him; I still wish I could hold his hand; I still wish he would hold me in his arms; I still wish I could say I love him so much; I still wish that we could ride his bike through the deserted streets at night, with my arms tightly wound around his waist.

Then I thought to myself, maybe I just miss having someone around; maybe I just miss the company; maybe I just miss the touch.

Maybe I don’t.

Because if I did, I could have gotten anyone else.

I’ve realised that I’ve been lying to myself along. I hate making mistakes so when I did, I tried convincing myself that it wasn’t my fault. I kept trying to make myself feel better about this utterly stupid decision I chose to make, trying to convince myself that such a douchebag wasn’t important to me when in fact - he held such an significant place in my life, even if it was only for a brief period of time. I still only want him back because I don’t want to let anyone else in for fear of betrayal and hurt again. I had completely let all my guards down with him; all my barriers broken. He just chose to do the worst with what I had to give. I may possibly never give myself off to someone else like that ever again. I fear that the damage he had caused may have been greater than I thought; deeper than I have imagined it to be. Everyday, I hope I find someone again. I look at them and I pick out all the reasons why they won’t suffice. Maybe I’m the one who can’t suffice instead. My mind says that I want someone. My heart knows better - I’m far from wanting, far from ready.

Is this what they meant when they said, “Your first will be your last”?

*Any potential suitor should read this and realise that the reason I give you the impression that I’m interested yet I push you away in the end is because I’m scared on the inside but I want to be all tough on the outside. I enjoy your company but I cannot afford any emotional investments at the moment, or even in the near future. I don’t push you away because you’re not good enough or because I just like thrill of the chase. As a matter of fact, I’m the one who is insufficient and I know what it’s like to be played.

Labels: L, Life, Thoughts, Writing