15-12-16

lets be real. No one gives a shit.

1312

Why do I feel so much anger all the time?

When I was younger, 14 or 15, it used to be desperation, a sense of clutching at straws. Just grabbing, clawing for some sort of vague recognition for who or what I am.

When my first girlfriend left me, it wasn't as bad as when I found the underlying reason. Loss turned to a sense of helplessness and it felt like being in a room with walls made of mirrors all turned in. I lost all routine and tried to drown off the pain in vodka and gin. I lost time, about five thousand dollars, and kinda lost myself along the way. Note to self, getting drunk at 2pm every week is a good road to bankruptcy.

I ceased drinking too much, took things into my hands and got a part time job. The cloudiness was dissipating, and the couple of girls on the side made me feel okay about myself. I never liked to talk about my problems, talking about them acknowledged their presence, and made me feel all the more like I wasn't normal.

And as life decided I shouldn't get too content with feeling alright, it sent me another girl to love who led me for a year into believing that she saw me as a who I am. Only, of course, to turn it all around and pretend she'd never been interested instead. Because, well, liking me would ruin her wouldn't it. Thankfully I left her in the past and fell in love with her friend instead. Must have been best couple of years in my life.

All this time though, I feel I've been trying harder and harder to overprovide. Like somehow overcompensating would make me lovable. Like it would make the monster a little more invisible. But some people like to point the monster out. They point at it casually with their hands outstretched and taunt it enough for it to rear its ugly head, and then chuck stones off its horns.

Sometimes a horn breaks off and takes weeks to heal. Sometimes it scabs over and never regrows again. The walls we put up to protect ourselves become a weapon against us.

There is so much anger. Pulsating urges to tear, rip and hurt. the ones closest are the ones you care about, so you turn against yourself instead. It feels like sixty rubber bands stretched taut against your chest, and every breath you take brings it closer to snapping.

11.12

some days it gets too much. It overwhelms you like some kind of psychological waterboarding experiment.  i feel like a wall of sanity crumbles whenever this happens; it's like some creature inside had been awoken, it's full of rage and  is clawing tooth and nail to unleash it's wrath, to hurt, to kill. Feels like every single seam is bursting.

I feel like I'm drowning in fire, like there's an inferno twisting in my throat that I just can't swallow down. Makes me want to break things, makes me want to hurt. Feels like the only way to quell the thirst is by exertion. When I'm tired, the demons go numb, like they've been paralyzed. It makes me feel weak, to be affected by this. I hope breaking point is further away down the road.

7-12

"They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that’s true. What they don’t tell you is that when it starts again, it moves extra fast to catch up.”
Big Fish (2003) dir. Tim Burton

Funny how this aligns to something I've been thinking of recently.

8pm.

That's it. i deserve to be happy. I deserve love and time and I deserve the kindness I've been throwing out for free. I don't deserve to learn and give and grow for someone who can't even spare me a hello. Who says sorry and doesn't change her ways. There's no point saying you care when even showing it is too much for you to take. I don't deserve to feel the absence of someone who turns a blind eye to my hours of need, someone who doesn't even see my presence.

I had all the strength and patience in the world to give to you, but I deserve better. I draw the line.

31.10.2016

Last night I broke down because a spade just couldn't be used as a rake day in and day out without losing its integrity.

Today I realise that just like the ability to reproduce doesn't make one a mom or dad, whilst anyone can proclaim themselves a man, it's the quality of the man that makes him true. While I am adjusting and pushing towards physical changes in my life, an easier life means nothing if I don't put just as much effort in making myself a better person. I want to be a man who is patient in testing situations, a man who cares about the needs of someone who can't give anything in return. I want to be a man who shamelessly owns up to my mistakes, a man who pays the extra compliment because a few words could make someone's day. I want to be a man who respects the understanding of others, and a man who will never be foreign to new situations. That is the person I am working towards in the end I am sure.

I suppose that is what drove my decision to bring my parents on holiday, the reason I want to apologise to her aunt for being in her house without her permission, and to ask for permission from her parents before taking her out. Because if I was my father, I would feel afraid to take the first step into a foreign land, and if I was her aunt, I would feel disrespected to find a stranger in my house, and if I was her parent, I would like to make sure that she's safe and taken care of.

Stomach Flu

i tell myself, three years down the road and if what is now will be what is then, I will knock on her door and ask her parents for their permission to be with her.

There are many things I don't know, but what I do know is that I have unlimited patience, unmatched strength, and a ridiculous urge to improve myself, and I will fight for those I love. I will apologize to those I've wronged, and I will own up to those mistakes. I will grow and exceed myself in all possible ways and that's a promise I can make to myself.

Tuesday Morning

It's never occurred to me much how my day to day life is affected by my condition and upbringing due to it. Imagine a life.

Imagine a life where buying your own underwear makes you sweat and tremble, where you circle the store a good four times to make your choice without having to stand there before discreetly picking it up off the shelf. You walk to the counter with a plastic confidence, like you've done this all your life. The cashier asks if that would be all, your voice is shaky so you nod and swallow back the lump in your dry throat. The transaction is done and you leave the store, giddy in the stomach and light in your steps. God forbid anyone see what you just bought, because for you to have the nerve to buy it, you, a half breed, you, undeserving. That's what your brain tells you anyway. But you did it. You bought underwear.

Small steps.

God knows what time it is

and I'm confused and alone again. Just when I was gonna say I felt I was proud of myself that day.

Monday Morning 2

This is the last time I give my heart away. Two things. The first, that the reason my dysphoria hasn't come knocking for a while is because I've dissociated from my body enough that it doesn't resonate to me anymore, merely a vessel, no better than a car or a trolley, to house my soul and hoist it around. Two, that I've succumbed to being a servant of this existential plane, to serve my purpose to each I encounter and move on. 

This is the last time I give my heart away. I can repeat the same narrative over and apply it to just about anybody else. Avoid falling before it happens. Won't waste anybody's time. There is no future I can provide which anyone I love is deserving of, and for that I shall bow my head and walk away.

This was the last time I gave my heart away.

Monday Morning

i know. I understand now, why one after another they leave.

----

I don't have a future. A future with me doesn't exist.

----

Nobody wants that for themselves.

Sunday Morning rain is pouring

No it isn't, but one can wish.

One might also wonder many other things. Like how to proceed in life. Or how to spill to one's parents that everything they've known the past two decades was a mask. Or why she would only ever return a call when she's drunk. Or how to plan a trip for nine. Or if she only talks to me out of sheer obligation. Or of why there was an overnight improvement in that arrogant colleague. Or if my animosity towards said colleague merely because she thinks the world revolves around her well put together life. Or whether telling me not to bother about her was an act of caring or trying to be kind. Or whether she's putting off seeing me on purpose because she think that best for the both of us. Or how I could never forgive myself for what I did and who I am for all my life. Or how much I hate the sound of whistling. Or how everything falls into place when we meet face to face.

I wonder a lot about that last one. How the insecurities and any other feelings seem to peel away and leave a sense of peace and a desire to smile. Less of an oh my god can't believe its you and more of a certainty everything led to this, it feels like time never lapsed, and I'm happy to see you now.

Just a number of things to wonder.

12.10.2016

Can't keep wearing my heart on my sleeve whilst you keep yours locked up in the deepest chambers, the highest tower, I don't even know which.

October 5th

'You' has become a proper noun in my mind. Amidst the ins and outs of the people I brush across daily, 'you' has become reference only to one. 

'You' would love this. I would love to snap a picture of this and send it to 'you'. 'You' must be sleeping. Are 'you' alright. There must be a special place in my mind that the conscience wanders to whenever fleeting thoughts of that word occur. 

12.48 a.m.

Haven't been home past midnight for a long while now. I can smell the smoke on my shirt and my thumb burns for some odd reason.

There was a a worn out looking man playing beautiful music beneath the bridge and that was all that mattered.

22.9.2016

To put it simply, some nights I think that I would've made a good father. Maybe not the whole yard to the best dad in the world awards, but a decent paternal figure. There's some I know who'd suspect something would happen to them before they had a chance to be a parent, others yet we're sure, at the age of 16, that they wanted to name their first children Sean and Summer. Most days I've come to terms that my gene pool will spend its last days in this very body, other days I'd wallow in envy of those who can decide any old day "hey let's have a baby". Well, the majority of people that is. Though of course, adoption is a very real and very wonderful thing, I just wished.. I had the choice.

Most nights it feels like I've been robbed of the very basis of my life. My childhood, my identity, my choices, my future family.

I guess in this way I would never think of myself as worthy of being part of a woman's future. I simply cannot bring myself to rob another of the very choices I never had. It's cruel. I can love. Love love and give so much yet nothing I do can overcompensate for what I lack. I cannot in good conscience do such a thing to another human being, much less someone I love. But for those I love, I will, undoubtedly, give endlessly, wholly, and unconditionally. That is a choice that I can make.

Weds Night

You won't know how desaturated the colours around you are till someone comes along and the world turns a couple of hues brighter. And when they're not close by, the colours become a little dimmer once more, so you grab some brushes and paint and set off spilling colours on the walls around you. You're satisfied and pleased with yourself. Then one day they drop by for a visit and suddenly your painted walls just glow. It seems like no matter how happy and content you are with your life, their presence expands your capacity to feel happiness, it's completeness like you've never felt on your own. Completeness, maybe that's it. Two completely wholesome people, two 100 percents which somehow add up to 210%.

Flying

My mind keeps straying to Saturday and the short time we spent together. In those hours we shared, it felt like all my emotions had somewhere to go, and it felt as natural as if we had seen each other every week. I told you, in those last moments, that I never needed you to belong to me, to be able to keep you safe and loved when times go rough are enough as it is. After all you belong only to yourself and I simply want to be by your side as you work towards fulfilling your potential. A guiding hand, perhaps, or just a hand to hold, never one to own. I told you that you were the most beautiful person I had ever been blessed to meet, and that still stands true right now. And I told you that I love you, in all the meaning that love can give. You cried a little, and you pulled me a little closer, hugged me a little tighter, and in that instant I wanted to believe you felt the same way. I will miss you, and I know you wouldn't want to admit that to yourself even if you did. Most of your deepest feelings never seem to escape from the depths of your chest.

Suddenly my excitement for Australia just seems to ebb away.

Thurs Night

"you see angels, you see them in tiny porcelain figurines around your head, wispy, willowy, whispering. You're forgotten, they chorus, she's forgotten about you, your presence is a chore. A few of them snigger, the tiny fingers clasping their lips. You don't mean as much as you wish, she's more than happy on her own now, go away. Go away. A jeering singsong melody blossoms from a cluster of them. You crouch lower and will them to disappear, or are you? You're shrinking, or were they getting bigger, all you know is that the voices are louder, the jeering shriller, and suddenly you are cracking right in the many eyes of your doubts and fears"

Why I call them angels, I guess because every doubt has its childhood in hopes, and you can only ever lose trust in something you've invested your faith in.

Now

headache. panic. hungry. sick.

Weds

As I'm writing this its 11:11 and I wish for her safety. Yesterday she apologized to me for her absence, and it scared me because making amends sounds like goodbye.

Today she's gone. Disappeared without a trace. Who was I to think a happy spell wouldn't lift, honestly I should've known better. It takes time, it always takes time, and till then all you can pray for is the patience to care for it whilst it heals.

It's like tending to a wound. 

On the Way to Site

When I take the time to think about it, I realise how these two states can exist one next to another, coincidal and coinciding. I do get angry, I do get sad and that's okay. I get angry because you shouldn't  treat yourself like that, I feel sad because I felt alone. And that's okay. Because just because I get mad or upset doesn't mean I care about you any less. My temporary emotions don't mean I don't love you.

Sunday Night

What do you do when the person you care about is in a mental lockdown? When their world crumbles and you're too far away to catch them in your arms. What do you do when their better judgement tells them to shut out the world, so you can only grab at the bars on their door as you watch them sinking. What do you do when their pain bleeds into your own, when your every waking moment is misted with fear and heartache for the hurting soul that isn't yours. Do you knock on the door with bruised knuckles, adamant on making sure she knows someone's still there, or does the knocking only aggravate the feeling of being shut inside? What do you do when you call out but there's no response, it's like leaving the light on for a ghost.

I can't answer any of these questions, I really don't know. But rest assured that I understand you might need time to figure this out on your own, or any other reason that I'm unaware of, but I'll be here when you open that door, that way, even if I was there just to walk you out, you'd know you weren't alone all that time.

This is not about me.

She runs. She runs and runs as the walls creep closer towards her. Her calves squeeze excruciatingly but she cannot stop. The walls are never ending, they twist and turn in a colossal labyrinth that wraps around her like chaos. She can feel her heartbeat in her feet now, and her lungs are on the brink of collapse. She heaves massive gasps of air and sputters a little. She is exhausted, so so tired, but she cannot stop, at least not now. She knows not of love or hate or dread or excitement, only knew the exhaustion that never goes away. Her ribs feel white hot now, as if a coil of wire was wrapped around them and heated instantaneously, they burned and throbbed and screamed, and then the pain lulled. Her feet are still in motion, one ahead of the other at all times, but the silent whisper of footsteps is the only thing she feels at home with. There is no more pain, neither was there anger, in fact, all she felt was the grey, bland matter at the back of her throat. She footsteps slow to a halt. The walls are still coming.

Wednesday Night

today had been a good day all in all. Rather fruitful, rather peaceful and not too stressful. Looked like the world was the right way up for once in some time.

I called her up to thank her last night, for all she had done for me. I think she was rather sleepy, but she took the time to hear me out anyways, and I'm grateful. I hope the plans don't fall through and we would be able to meet up on Friday, after all, it'll probably be the last time I see her in a long time once more since she'll be flying back soon after.

If she's reading this, I hope she'll get a good sleep tonight without waking up too much. Only recently realised how truly exhausting that is.

Tuesday Night

ive come to realize that I act a lot without thinking. Or rather, my thinking process lags about an hour or so after my course of action. With that I have many regrets. It's something I need to learn to overcome.

And above all these I guess I've come to appreciate how patient the people around me are in tolerating and forgiving my rash decisions. I've come to appreciate that people deal with stress differently, some keep it to themselves and I now know how tough that must have been. I've come to appreciate the effort that goes behind finding motivational pictures with my favourite animal on them, to send me when I'm down because one might not be confident in their own words. I've come to appreciate the care and understanding that has been shown to me in all my stubborn and demanding ways.

Maybe my time has come and gone, but that person who doesn't think she's enough, who doesn't think her words capture the required meaning of a moment, she gives all that she can, and she tries so so hard, and that is absolutely amazing.

Monday night

last night had been the first night in many that I had a dream. It felt like I hadn't even fallen asleep really. Must have been in that subconscious state for hours.

I dreamt I was at this building, spherical and emerald green with grand central elevators. I was leaving. To somewhere I don't know, but I was preparing to leave. I was making an appointment to see the headmaster of that academy, and I was ushered through a massive libraric space with shelves which grazed the tall ceilings. I was made to sit in line, behind people, other people who were leaving. We were being transferred somewhere. We were leaving. The entire dream was centered around our departure, as one by one people took the elevators and disappeared forever behind the automatic doors. It felt almost clinical, too organized.

When I awoke it was a feeling I had never felt before. It had been extremely lucid, I felt unrested and weary and for some reason, unaware of my surroundings. It felt rather surreal, like I was walking out of one dream into another. In my hazed state, for a while there I thought I had died. That I was walking around in a state of limbo and if I turned around I would see my uninhabited body motionless on my bed. I needed a grasp of reality. I tried to tell someone but I think they must have thought I was mad and let it be. Eventually the buzz of work settled me down I suppose.

Not an experience I would ever want to have again.

Saturday

Sometimes at times you least expect it, it comes knocking at your door. Or, well, you could walk out your door and just walk right into it. Four times. It wasn't awkward in any way. If anything, I felt rather, well, shy. Is that how you feel when you can't stop wanting to look at someone but you can't seem to hold your gaze? She looked as stunning as I last remembered, she looked just like I imagined, and it was hard to pretend I wasn't floored and gaping like a fish, struggling to catch my words. There were a couple of other people there too, friends I haven't met in a while, and the things I said to them were neither witty nor well thought of at all, in the typical fashion that nervousness catches my tongue.

The last time we ran into each other was amidst a bustling arts market over in town. I was actually heading towards to food and drinks market close by but found myself walking towards the arts market instead. I remember thinking out loud that this wasn't something they had set up the last year; and thinking a little quieter that this was a place she would've enjoyed looking through. Funny how fate added up. Even funnier how I even snapped a photograph of the moon earlier that evening, privately thinking that she should be out to look at the moon in all its wispy charm that night, but not daring to drop a text in case I came across as needy. Back to the arts market. I decided to break the silence because, I had to say something to her. She broke a smile. I broke inside. You know the sound of a dry, crisp fallen leaf being crushed underfoot? Yeah, that. It felt gratifying, it felt contagious, and all in all it was a smile that I felt could've changed the world. No kidding. She was right, I do care about her, and I'm not afraid of admitting it.

God I was such a lucky man for the better part of the last two years.

18 night

I keep seeing these posts on tumblr like "if you see something beautiful in someone, speak it" or along those lines. What they fail to mention is that sometimes people would rather you stay far far away from them and keep your mouth shut.

18/8

It's like a switch, flicking on, and off, and on, and off. I guess when you make yourself too available to people your value decreases. But like I've said before and I'll hope to god I'll have the strength for it, i don't need to be valuable if it means I can be counted on and trusted. Quite funny really, here's the kid who's trying more than ever to boulder up that bell curve of being a trustworthy person, the very same kid apparently no one approves of their kids being friends with. Sometimes I feel like one day I might just snap and cut everybody off and go back to my old ways. But that's low isn't it? A low blow to no one but myself.

Anger. The thing about anger is that it's a secondary feeling. They say anger is a product of having felt other strong emotions such as hurt, disappointment, humiliation. I've always been a rather angry person, I felt that in that way I am protected, I'm shielded from what I see as the unfair hand the world has dealt me. Over the past two years it seemed to have gotten better, I felt at peace, or at very least, that I could take life on. I mean, with my whole world right in my arms, who could blame me. But now it's different, it's like the anger is seeping back in drop by drop, sparked by mundane things like constantly being interrupted by your boss, or the office couple sopping with amore in your face every. single. day.

I'd chime in with a haven't you people ever heard of, closing the goddamn door, no? ~

Ok but seriously, it's getting weird for everyone. Geez no wonder nobody likes office romance. On the bright side though, the new guy and girl both seem awfully nice and easy going, so in between that and my deskmate coming back tomorrow, well the world seems a little brighter.

Apart from all of us being completely slandered because we are, in their words, "not as clever or capable" as someone else, there isn't much to complain about life right now. I think my parents have talked things through and are working something out, the recent concert was bloody brilliant and made a bunch of friends, one of whom is a complete camel just like I am, from cross country apparently, and she and I get along great. Yeah okay some of the other people we picked up might have been a little strange.

And yet with my life falling together, you still manage to find away to reside in the back of my mind all the time. I'm not complaining, you've always found a way into the things around me.

6.42 in the evening

I just figured I'd take this time to access my feelings and thoughts and try to come to terms with them.
I went to NEX earlier today to pick something up with my parents, we walked through the shops I've gotten used to going to, only with different company. It was a strange feeling walking through these same spaces with one foot in the now and the other in a memory of what those places has come to mean to me. It felt a little hollowed out now, the shops seemed a little duller and the place less vibrant, even the little dogs at the pet shop weren't in their cages. Seemed like half the joy I've gotten from this place was going there with someone I really enjoyed spending my time with. I tried thinking of other ways to go around it, but that really seemed to be it. Spending time with someone like her, no matter the place, would just seem brilliant, and the ambiance just tunes up a little lighter somehow. Most times I wonder if she felt the same way too, like how the same old places still remain an adventure to go to when you're with the right people. I wonder if she's gotten past that point, where she's pushed out every memory of me away to move forward.

I notice I've been getting angry more easily lately, I've been sprouting tiny random hairs on my lip and chin and my strength has shot up quite a bit, figured it must be some kind of weird hormonal bust. The stress from work is also adding up, there's no one I can talk to about it besides the other two at my office but one has a 'get used to it' attitude, which makes it kind of pointless to talk in the first place, and the other has been really busy so we don't have much time to talk anyway. So many of the people I'm closest to have started developing this whole "well that's life" attitude lately. Makes it hard to talk to them about anything at all. I wonder if I had had this attitude a long time ago, before I had begun to value my friendships more deeply. I suppose it's just easier to throw circumstances into the giant umbrella of "hardship=life" without being sensitive to the people seeking your empathy. I've learnt that the attitude of just sucking things up does what it's supposed to, it hardens you up. It turns you into a  military grade nonchalance, unbeatable by the forces of nature. And that's part of growing up. But I guess many times we forget that we're not boulders or rocks, we're humans and we break, hell, even mountains erode away, geography bitch. And I think we need to recognize these signs of erosion in other human beings, recognize the point at which to empathize and give them what they need to heal. For some it may be validation that what they feel is okay, for others, it's the promise of undying support, and for others still, just understanding and accepting a mistake that's done. I'm still learning, but I have a good guess that to grow will involve a balance of strength, sensitivity, the wisdom of knowing when's when, and the grace to pull it off. These days, it feels hard for me to reach out, those times I need advice or help, because well, if I had needed a "well, that's life", then I could have simply told that to myself. I mean, I couldn't tell someone "well, that's life" to a girl whose grandma just passed away, that's insensitive really. But seems like that's all that's being chucked to me wherever I turn. And then there's the other issue of seeming to bother people. But I guess unacknowledged phonecalls and stark-short replies are a way of telling me people have their own problems to deal with so I might as well keep mine to myself. I suppose now's the time to plaster a smile on my face and pretend everything's alright because hey, everyone else is doing that, aren't they?

Recently I apologized to someone I haven't spoken to in about over a year. She and I had done something between us, and while it was a secret to her, the news got out through me. She had trusted that I would keep my mouth shut, yet I didn't. I had taken it in my stride when she had asked me about it, took it really lightly and laughed it off, I never really considered the incident from her point of view. We graduated, she moved out of my neighborhood and we drifted apart and I never gave a second thought about it. Recently though I had worked with someone with the same name as her, and it jolted my mind back to how we left off, friends, but not on such good terms. I dug up her number, and apologized for what I had done, how it had been unfair to her and it was insensitive of me to had taken it lightly. We talked a little after that, and left off, but I'm glad we had gotten that behind us. I'll try to be more careful with how I deal with things.

I think, at the end of the day, I miss my best friend. I'm not depressed, I can see what the world has to offer, but life is more tolerable and enjoyable wih you here. That's what it was like being in love with you, living life in the most brilliant technicolor definitions. That's the notion of caring for someone isn't it? It's not about the make outs and I love yous so much as being there for someone when they need it, trusting your guts to know when they need it, knowing they can trust you whether they're there with you or not. It's about keeping each other alive so we dont have to face life with that "well that's life" attitude, so we don't harden, so that we may for once believe we are capable of love and being loved. But I keep messing things up. I'm too impatient. I still have lots to learn.

Night Time

is it true, I wonder. Or was it just a written piece she admired. Did it hold dead value to her, or did it just appeal to her literary nature? Is she really looking forward to forgetting my name?

I miss my best friend.

On another note, I really do love my batchmates of 9 years. Nonsense never gets old.

16th

its been a while since I last blogged here, guess the need for it sobered up a bit since I talked to her. I guess the truth is I'm frightened. Its like walking down a street at night expecting to be jumped at any moment; I keep feeling that everything I say is too much or too close and next thing I know she's gonna shut me out once more. For a moment there I thought she wanted to talk to me, thought she wanted me there when she felt alone, but I suppose her fears get the most of her once again.

If the world's only gonna see a fox as shifty and untrustworthy, then there's no point trying to be anything else.

I guess I'm not the easiest of people to be close to. Paranoid, anxious and craving company. Except the company I choose are few, those I can let my guards down around. I don't know how to tell her that its okay if she needs someone, it's okay if she needs me, that its okay to delve in things that make her feel alive and safe. Like she once said, we're still young after all.

Am I taboo?

88

Tonight I can't sleep. There's no one around to ask if I'm okay, and no one I can tell. I can't sleep. The truth seems hypocritical sitting amongst the words I've spoken. I can't help thinking everything would be less complicated if we could be truthful with ourselves. I turn that question over around to myself and ask if I could handle the truth to begin with. Facing the truth means coming to terms with the fact that I'm as replaceable as anybody else and that the ones you wake up at 3 in the morning thinking about may not be craving your closeness. Truth is I don't know and truth is this isn't a question I can answer on my own. But for now, I just can't seem to fall asleep.

78

I'm positive that this year might be my loneliest year yet. Most times it feels like everyone has somewhere they belong and fit in except me. I don't trust very easily and it's those vital parts of who I am that will ruin my friendships in one way or another. I guess I'm that person that nobody wants their kid to have anything to do with. I look like I don't conform, I'm not part of the racial majority here, and I'm not the sweetest kid to look at. It feels like utter shit because you know you're not a bad person, you don't make friends to screw people up, yet there's that presumption that you will, people don't trust you, and all your worth goes down the drain.

Expectations. I don't know much more clear I could be. If I love someone I don't usually expect them to love me back. I give because it's a nice thing to do for someone and because that is what I would have liked had I been in their situation. I usually don't expect anything out of it because, well, my immediate presumption is that good things never last with me anyway. I've grown up never to expect good things so as long as I could give, I do because at least then someone else wouldn't have to feel the same way I do sometimes.

How conflicting is it to really love someone yet not being sure of what love is anyway.

Early Friday

it felt like coming home from a long trip away, taking in the old that now seems new that is your home. It felt like something clicked into place where it should and that the air around me is lighter. It felt like coming home.

But still part of me is holding back. Part of me is afraid, somewhat. What if this bout of happiness is short-lived? What if this conversation only happened because you're away from your friends? While I'm happy for this new beginning, I'm still not ready to embrace wholly what this step is, it's like one foot is out the door yet the other is holding back. I don't know what you want, I'm just afraid that one day you'll decide that I'm too close to you and that I should leave you alone again. I want to be able to open up to you again, but only if you let me. 

4th Morning

Wildfire by Marianas Trench. How have I never heard this song before?

3 August

thats my problem isn't it. That I care too much. Care to the point that I'm told to, bugger off or something. Well I'm sorry I was never given that option.

Work has been stressful. Kinda hard to understand the logic behind getting some people to run their own projects and others, to simultaneously run projects and draft for others at the same time, and some expect the same results. No bro. Proud architect of 7 projects and draftsman of 20 here speaking. Task delegation is so poor. Exactly why you have some people able to concentrate and focus entirely on their projects while others, well, pretty much keep going "UGH." and sighing deeply while staring into space and well after a while laugh quietly to themselves at the mishap. Don't know what they're aiming at here, but they've definitely succeeded in making some of us completely lose care and interest about what we're supposed to do. Absolutely ridiculous.

My heart's been feeling unsettled. Feels like there's a rock lodged there or a gear or a notion of something missing, but I try not to let it bother me so.

M:Morning

"I learnt two things that day. One, I was never gonna let anyone see that they got to me." "And..two?" "If the world's only gonna see a fox as shifty, and untrustworthy, there's no point in trying to be anything else."

-Nick Wilde, Zootopia

I've been feeling this way lately. I've been fearful of getting too close to people, I see the way they look at me, even if they're not, I feel their eyes singe into my scalp as though trying to see into any evil intentions I might have. I don't want to hurt anyone. I swear to God I don't. But nobody believes me. And now I'm starting to believe it myself.

End of the Week

It's been a while. I hope you're okay. I wrote a song today revolving around what I've learnt the past few weeks and what I've come to realise. If you'd like to hear it, I've sent it to your email. Excuse the few missed notes and nasal soundingness, dust from work is really getting to me. But yeah, I see things better now and I'm happy that you and I have both grown. Always be here.

Saturday

i can't stop crying. There is so much pain.

Sat Morning

Last night I had a splendid time at Dulux Professional launch, a wine and dine event at the Grand Hyatt. Must say there was too much greens in the dine part for my liking but the wine part made up for it. The door gift I must say was a brilliant idea, a leather clip and card case emblazoned with our respective initials. First thought when I saw it was hey, if I ever hosted an event on a grand scale like this one, a personalized door gift would be the way to people's hearts. I guess it's only fair to say that by the end of the night, I had a fresh red rose pinned to my blazer and the girls had each stolen enough roses from the bases to make bouquets. Apparently they hadnt limited their hands to the roses just on our table as well. Inspiring.

There was so much I had wanted to talk about last night, it all came gushing to me as I lay sort of comfortable in bed. My mind was aromatised by alcohol and it wafted away to you. I called you, in a kind of non committal way, whilst it would have been astounding to talk, I hadnt thought that you would pick up the phone. Why would you, after making a promise to yourself not to, right? I hadn't meant any harm of course, but I suppose I'm no longer perplexed by the lack of answers and have settled for the calm in knowing that you're still alright.

Is it harsh of me to feel like a dirty person when I remind you to drink enough water? Sort of feels like I'm padding greasy hands all over one's newly painted walls after specifically being told not to; in this case, the walls in question would be the ones she's put up around herself from, well, I don't know, me?

The song I had written and previously posted here had been an egoistical attempt at conveying how much you're worth, in a time I felt you were at a low and empty, I had wanted to give meaning behind your name, a lifetime of experiences and the things I loved about you. I should have known better however, what I understand now, that the things I loved about you didn't matter, and your life consists of so much more than a love story with some boy who can't call it quits. It was a brave attempt I must say, one of the best songs I had ever written, but I can't do it justice with my new knowledge that at the end of the day, the best song I could have written about you, a song worthy of your name, would be one with you as the lead writer.

Tired

i might actually be embarassed about posting old song lyrics. So full of myself but oh well it's a start ain't it.

Thurs

Last night, I had a dream we were all alone

Dressed up to the bone with no where to go

So we walked out to the hill side

We were far away from home

A stone's throw from the constellations above us

Reflected in the starlight in your eyes 

Suddenly it just felt right

Pamela I'd fly across the world just to fall down at your feet

But I'd drown even deeper in your eyes just to catch you in the breeze

Pamela, maybe, you light the dark for me

But what's not can never be, between the stars and me

Those hills, were a lonely place, before you gave it a face and a hand to hold

These nights never seemed as bright, above the city lights

There lie the stories untold

Pamela I'd fly across the world just to fall down at your feet

But I'd drown even deeper in your eyes just to catch you in the breeze

Pamela, maybe, you light the dark for me

But what's not can never be, between the stars and me

And so we danced, till the morning light 

We're swaying slowly, and I fell in love with the way your cheeks crease when you smile

And your grace with every step you take, and all the sounds you make 

How could I live in denial

I'd fly through the moon and stars just to hold you close to me

Every breeze will bring us closer to who we're meant to be

Pamela, maybe, you light the world for me

But what's not can never be

I'd fly across the world just to fall down at your feet

And I'll drown even deeper in your eyes just to catch you in the breeze 

Pamela, pamela, I'm in love with who you are

And what's ours will always be, between me and pamela, Pamela

Pamela,- M.Q.

Half the Week Gone

I don't know what you did and I haven't the slightest clue, but it seemed to have been difficult for you to do, and for that bravery I'm so so proud of you. On second thought, did you finally go to the doctor? Is that it? Sigh if only I could, I would hold her and tell her everything's gonna be okay. Because it is, I have faith in that.

Middle of the Week

i haven't heard from her in a long while. I'm getting worried, wondering if she's safe and okay. I'm listening to Definitely Maybe on the bus to work, sounds like old times yaknow. The ones who need love the most will be the ones to push it away. Wonder if that's true. Sometimes I'm just too scared I suppose, scared to send small reminders to her to drink enough water, to have her meals, small things that she often forgets. I'm scared what I perceive as care is actually harassment. I don't know how to show I care.

How do I put it in words. "I'd bleed my heart out to show, and I won't let go". Not in that I want to chase her, but rather I won't give up on her as a person, as a human being. To be there for her like no one was when I was in that position. I care, I do care.

Monday Night

It's hard to show when you can't see nor say. It's hard to show someone you care. That someone out there cares for them. That it's okay to accept that care and that it's not a burden to the other. Depression has a way of making us push away the care and love we need because we feel we are undeserving. We feel that we are only pulling another down with us whenever we get the urge to reach out. I want to tell you that it is not a selfish act to accept attention and care, those who truly care will understand your temporary shortcoming and will be there while you get better. Relationships between people are never equal, never fair. There'll be days that I wake up feeling awful and only able to give my 30% but those who care will see no problem in giving me their 70%. Even if you think you've only got 10% to give, I will be the 90% if you allow me to because I know that if I was in the same position you would do the same for me. You are not selfish for wanting and needing attention and care, it only makes you human. And just because you need care doesn't mean you're any less strong or resilient or worthy. You are worth it. Everything.

1134

i'm getting overstimulated, overthinking, I need to talk to someone, someone.

Sunday Night

11.42p.m. and I stir awake, check the time on my phone, and soberly agree with myself that it's too early
5.33a.m. and my fingers reach for my phone before my eyelids could lift themselves open
5.35a.m. and my eyes strain against the glare, struggling to make out words to make sure you're okay; it's too blurry to read between the lines
6.14a.m. and I figure it's too late to fall asleep now, I've had 7 hours of sleep and the sun is about to come up
6.15a.m. and I fall asleep anyways
8.50a.m. and the hush of voices outside my door rouses me, I look around for my cat
10.17a.m. and there's breakfast on the table; in between mouthfuls I finally do the necessary, read line for line, and listen word for word
2.50p.m. and there's things to do, people to meet and places to be
5.59p.m. and I'm watching empty conversations, guitar on my lap but running out of songs after the second round of "who do you love"
7.10p.m. and I finish working out; I wonder if I should make myself dinner, meals within 30 minutes after a workout are ideal after all
9.14p.m. and I'm still wondering
9.31p.m. and I begin my dinner, old cartoons never really get old
9.43p.m. and I come across a picture of people dancing; I suddenly yearn to slow dance with her just for the fun of it
10.24p.m. and I get the strangest feeling she might talk to me
10.25p.m. and I realise I was mistaken; I decide to get the most of the night and go to bed
11.42p.m. and I stir awake, check the time on my phone, and soberly agree with myself that it's too early

Sunday Afternoon

one of my cats died today. The numbers have gone down from 4 to 2 in just a few months, two lives lost in such a short time. She was a strong one. I might say that she may be the strongest person I know. Blind in one eye from an infection, half paralysed from a fight with a dog, deaf in an ear, suffering from regular seizures from nerve damage, but she never fails to drag herself to the front of the room to greet us whenever we walked past the door. Looked straight into the headlights of an oncoming car as she failed to muster enough strength to cross the street. Thankfully we managed to get the driver's attention and they stopped in time. We brought her up and she gradually completely lost the ability to use her hind legs. She was there with black when he was dying, curled up around him to keep him warm. Strong till the very end. Rest in peace.

Early Sunday

Yesterday I went to Gillman barracks with her, intended to check out what they called an arts and music market. Blatantly disappointing was how I could beat describe it, seemed to be chock full of hipsters too good for this world, drunk at 5pm. So we went for waffles and ice cream instead, it had been a long time since I've had waffles, and well thankfully Cremier never fails to disappoint. Nice place too, little hideout amongst the many art studios there. Art studios have a way of making my mind slip and my chest ache, there's only been one girl who had made even contemporary art feel exciting to me, and sadly well, she wasn't here.

We then decided to walk down to harbourfront, a nice long walk getting to know one another a little better, I found out how her father died and she found out about my mom's and aunts' crazy antics. It was drizzling a little, and after a while it became something I was thankful for, cooled us off till we reached Keppel. I'd never been to Keppel bay, and as it turns out, neither had she, so what the hell, we decided to go that long stretch right out to where the rich kids came to play, watching the yachts lined up there pointing out which could be mine. The condominiums there looked extravagant, something straight out of the mind of Hadid herself. Balconies were spacious and long, and many of them were decked with outdoor furniture to host the occasional twilight dinner. We walked on through the decks into what we eventually figured was the tip of Labrador park, full of joggers and the occasional cyclist, passing us by with a curt ring and whirr. Fancy names in this park, I got curious about Dragon's Teeth Gate, and found that it was a remodel of a red stone William Farquhar had once used to identify, um, I can't really remember. We decided to turn back at this point.

In retrospect, I probably should've washed my hair immediately upon getting back home, having walked in the rain pretty much the whole evening. Its nice to bond with a rather new friend, but I don't know, most times I wish I could catch up just as much with those I haven't spoken to in a long time. Or maybe just that one, I tell myself.

God I miss our conversations.

As harsh as it felt to put her friend out there in my last post, there's some things I struggle to deal with quietly and one of them is insensitivity to my weakness and to those I care about. There's just things an "oops sorry! Didn't mean to be rude" doesn't fix and I've been feeling it's effects till today. In a way I guess I could just say you're naive and young, but I sincerely hope you grow up before you ever say anything of the sort to hurt her, this time, my favourite her.

To the last her, tell me about the social casts. Tell me about your opinions. I want to listen.

Sat the 23rdk

"but that's not what I came for, my amour
I hate to admit it but I miss the war
Gotta get you under fire quick, brace for it
I'd rather be a riot than indifferent"
-this means war, marianas trench

Damn if this isn't a catchy song, refreshing to see josh so gloriously sassy in the mv too. Life's been slowing down, a good time to catch up and patch up what's been torn and tattered. I notice I've been getting less tolerant of the way people term me and whatnot, it tends to eat at me much more than it has before and I've been more vocal I addressing it as well. Pity, it's surprising how it tends to slip from those I've counted myself close to and I just find myself thinking "oh so that's how you've been seeing me all along?" Just seems like they're lying their way around me just to make me feel better. I've also been asked to remain in a place I felt hostile, because someone wanted to see how i transition. For goodness sake, I counted you as a good friend, you could just make plans with me if you wanted to check on me. Wanting me to be there just so, what, your curiosity is satisfied, what the hell do you think I am? A zoo animal, perhaps? Come on man, how would you feel if I had told you I'm staying on just to watch the drama unfurl when you break up. Insensitive bastard wouldn't I be.

Anyways, my trust in that particular person has been ebbing away steadily, and honestly it's quite sad because we used to be so close. She told my then girlfriend once, that she worried I'd fall for her once my girlfriend and I broke up. I never thought much of it until my friends brought up how it just seemed like she had no respect for my girl at all, her own friend mind you. I covered up for her, said it might have just been the way she said it, they were good friends after all maybe they knew better than to read into things, but now. Well now I think my friends may have been right. If she hadn't meant to say that she thinks I'm using my girl as a makeshift before I move onto her that's fine, but who the hell do you think I am. That girl had meant more to me than well, anything I'd ever known.
Well no use harping about it now but it felt good to get it off my chest.

Friday Morning

I'd like nothing more than to hold her and talk with her every night. To actually do something to ease her when her mind is down or chaotic or lonely. When a dark ride crashes over I know how it feels to feel so completely alone. I know how it feels not wanting to bother anyone with your 'excessive' emotion or even lack thereof. I know how it feels to just sit idly waiting for each day to pass. I know she's an independent girl, but the darkest shadows tend to come out when its dark, and it helps being reminded you're not alone. if she wants to fight this war alone though there's nothing I can do. I don't doubt she can win this, she's a strong girl, but even strong girls need a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on sometimes right? Things that make us human. I would have loved to be just that; sitting on the sidelines watching her like this, well vague ideas of it rather, I don't know, I feel so helpless. Well no honestly I just feel like I'm an invisible being watching over her but she never knows I'm there yaknow? I don't exist in her world, and while I can watch, my being just goes through her and I can't do much more. I'd be lying if I said she was just a friend. I doubt anyone I've ever loved is just a friend anyway, there's just something about people you've completely trusted with your life that never goes away. The romance simmers down, but I guess you're always gonna love them.

Wednesday Night

i'm beginning to dissociate with names. No big surprise here really, after what was said about my birth name by the psych, I've come to step away from it almost completely. It's become rather foreign, I forget to respond to it at times and it just doesn't roll of my tongue anymore. Feels like I'm pretending to go by that name above anything else. And seeing as to how nobody calls me by my actual name at all, I haven't been able to use myself to the name being spoken by someone else. I feel rather nameless now, seeing as to how either version of my name is either dead to myself or doesn't exist to other people. Floating around like a nameless blob. Not too bad, but not too good either.

Wednesday

There's a book warehouse sale coming up. Just thought you'd wanna know.
http://www.moneydigest.sg/sg-book-deals-books-warehouse-sale-fill-many-books-want-50-5-14-aug-16/

Edit. Speaking of books, I was reading this review of a book called Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowells. Some other book about two kids who meet in a bus and day by day became strangers to friends, to lovers and sources of each other's support and happiness from their home lives. Well this isn't so much about the book but the review itself. It said "you will fall in love with Park's words and extraordinarily relate to Eleanor's sense of insecurity". Something inside me twinged a bit.

"I want everyone to meet you. You're my favourite person of all time". Relatable.
-Eleanor and Park, Rainbow Rowell

Tuesday Night

look out tonight, look up at the moon.
For days on end it hides in darkness, oh but look how it shines tonight.

Tuesday Morning

I've only noticed now why that trip had meant so much to me, why it felt like the best thing that has ever happened in my life. One, I was able to, for once in my life, be completely myself, far away in a place where nobody knew me, I was able to exist peacefully as who I am. No pretence, no worries, nothing. Two, it was probably the last time that I could give all I had to give to someone I loved and cared about, and God knows how right it felt.

I lost it at the gym last night, lost my temper at myself. Went to the washroom, hit myself in the head, and just kind of sat there, clutching myself. I felt weak, I felt cheated of living truthfully, I felt like there were these heavy chains wrapped around me and everywhere I go they kept cutting in or tripping me and overall kicking me into the dirt. I felt weak. I felt really really weak.

18/7/16

There's so much inside me with nowhere to go. I'm so alone.

I know you're not ready. I know I have it within me to wait till you are, to just be here if you need me. But the monster inside veers out and tells me you don't. I'm left wondering what you've been wondering all along, who am I to you? Someone to turn to or just another drunken dial.

The Morning After

i once read a quora response to the question "how does it feel like to see/talk to your ex after not having done so for some time?" The guy who responded said it felt like returning to your childhood home, where things have changed a little here and there, but you look around and you see pieces of your memories fall together in unexpected places. It feels both bittersweet and warm, it feels like finding an old phone and seeing all your old messages still there.

Last night, I came back home. Only for two hours, but it felt like home nonetheless.

Edit. How do you tell someone you miss them without telling them.

Saturday Morning

"

The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place... and I don´t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently, if you let it. You, me or nobody, is gonna hit as hard as life. But ain't about how hard you hit... It's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward... how much you can take, and keep moving forward. That´s how winning is done. Now, if you know what you worth, go out and get what you worth. But you gotta be willing to take the hits. And not pointing fingers saying: You ain´t what you wanna be because of him or her or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain´t you! You´re better than that.

"

-rocky balboa

Sometimes we all forget we're living on the stage of life, that everyone out there wears this mask of "everything's alright" as we go out there and live day to night. We forget we're not the only ones who go home after a whole day and question what we're doing with life. It's hard to remember that at one point in life or most of it, we don't really know if what we're doing is keeping us on what we conceive is the righteous path. It's okay though. It's okay not to know. It would be ignorant of me to see the world as black and white when there's more colours out there than we could ever bring ourselves to name. If everything you do is gonna be wrong in someone's eyes already, might as well go down doing something you will thank yourself for, right? 

So Erase

Lemonade, razors, floating away. Life turning bitter, life hurting, life disappearing, is that what it is? I'm not too good with reading into lyrics but well, my guess is as good as the next guy's.
Honey, paper and rope. First few things I thought of when I heard those lines. Creating sweet moments, finding an outlet for the frustration, and holding on for dear life. Days like these never come easy, it's hard to see where you're going when the light is so dim. Sometimes it feels better to just stop searching for the way out. But you can't. You really really can't. This is your fight and you're gonna give it everything you have.

Otters hold each other's paws as they sleep so they won't float away.
The Storey Left Untold - Every Avenue

12/7/16

ive been listening to Every Avenue's "Only Place I Call Home" on repeat; every time I listen to it there's a nagging tug in my stomach like I'm stepping into a memory.

Quarter Past Six

dont know why i'm laying awake here at 6 in the morning but I'm not tired and the time gives me room to think. There's so much I want to say to her. It's fair to say I miss her too.

I still wonder what she would have said if I had picked up the phone at 4.28 in the morning.

Half Past Moon

normally I would feel ashamed of myself for missing the gym and leaving work incomplete to attend a last minute buffet slot with a friend and her mom, but today I'm rather thankful for that rash, well, on my terms it would be spontaneity.

It has only recently come to my attention that my daily rind and grind would somehow lean a little towards bizarre. When I think of my mind, I think of hundreds of folders and slots, arranged in order of time on one axis and degree of urgency/importance on another. The activities for the day are filed into those slots, and on a good day, the entire shelf for that particular day would be full, but with buffer gaps. When an event crops up within the same slot as another, factors will start churning up, two fact charts next to one another. "Can either one be postponed" "Do these opportunies come often" "special event or daily schedule", and the specs of whichever outweighs the other will slide into that slot. When there is say, a two-hour slot for meeting a friend, for example, and there is a last minute cancellation, stressed is an understatement to describe my mental scrambling to fill up that slot with another purposeful event (purposeful: achieves something which improves a situation/ betters myself/ helps someone else), the failure of doing so will be an immediate deduction in my time management for that day. Waiting for something is wasteful, sitting idly is wasteful, anything which doesn't involve a fluctuation of energy is wasteful in my mind's eye towards myself. As efficient as it may be, I practically lose my shit whenever my brain folders get messed up.

Back to today, the bottomless glass of wine is like a hypnotizing charm on the folders in my mind, they arrange themselves and fold neatly and tirelessly, it frees up some space for me, even more space to cram even more into my schedule. Recently I've begun to stir at around 6.20am, and seeing as to how I wouldn't be able to get functional sleep between then and 7.04am, I've decided to make use of the time as a pre-day warm up, to rouse me up for the day. Nothing like a light workout and  a meditation session to start me off hopefully. Nights shall be reserved for preparing for the following day, one slot of rest, and working on my trimonthly report, and transportation times shall be reserved for studying italian and resting. I've written all these down for easy access throughout the day so there's no time and energy wastage to recall them.

My feet are being problematic. The left side is infected and looks like reptile skin; the right ankle is slightly sprained or something I'm not too sure but it hurts to walk. You know. I think she needs the tickets more than I do. If it will make her so truly happy. And for that it's worth it. Her happiness is always worth it.

Late at Night

In time to come you will realize that life is fleeting like dandelions on a windy day. Days will pass and weeks will be swallowed whole, and nothing would have changed but you. And in the same way, two lovers can become strangers once more. There truly is beauty in new beginnings, even if it's with something you've known all your life.

11/7/16

It seems you're spiraling. Veering off course and teetering away from the flight path. I wish I could throw a net to catch you but my hands are bound, my lips are sealed. I hold onto the hope that these embers will cut the ties around my wrists, and God know how much my help can do but I will try nonetheless.

I have been healing, I'm better. I guess you're just that small achy bruise on my chest that never truly goes away.

Edit. This morning feels so surreal. Dark skies at 8 in the morning, heavy rainpour all around this tiny bus, a child and her mom conversing in the background , feels pretty nice. Ever had those moments you feel so deeply about that you would love to share with someone? For quite a few moments there you forget that they're gone.

11/7/16

It seems you're spiraling. Veering off course and teetering away from the flight path. I wish I could throw a net to catch you but my hands are bound, my lips are sealed. I hold onto the hope that these embers will cut the ties around my wrists, and God know how much my help can do but I will try nonetheless.

I have been healing, I'm better. I guess you're just that small achy bruise on my chest that never truly goes away.

Edit. This morning feels so surreal. Dark skies at 8 in the morning, heavy rainpour all around this tiny bus, a child and her mom conversing in the background , feels pretty nice. Ever had those moments you feel so deeply about that you would love to share with someone? For quite a few moments there you forget that they're gone.

Tenth July

times like those I wished I kept my ringtone on or that I woke up in 2 hour intervals. Drunken typing leads to honesty I suppose, and I also suppose I wasn't prepared for what I read. It's okay to call, it's okay to need someone, and my door is always open when you've got nowhere else to go. I won't hurt you, I won't break you anymore.

I believe it's the 9th?

The moon is stunning tonight. Slim and crooked and stunning.

The boy lives in the shadow of the dark side of the moon. He points a flashlight in its direction but it's light falls upon only velvet blues. He searches. He sits under singing willows as the sun dips and writes out to her, folding each piece into neat paper airplanes released to the night breeze. The wind carries them far and wide across the misty lakes and lands them gently back at his feet. He wonders where she's gone. Perhaps he hasn't heard of an eclipse.

For now he throws pebbles into the dark till the stars lead him home.

7/7/2016

Days like today I feel so emotionally drained after hours under the heavy load of pretence. The idea of sitting quietly in the dark is warm and inviting as my sanity leans tantalizingly close to the edge. We rode along at the back of a van today; my cousin and I agreed that four to five in a van like this one makes for a pretty amazing getaway to the soft rhythms of early a.m. blues. Covers of old school boybands perhaps. Soon it will be time for big steps into unknown territory and the odds are stacked rather treacherously against me. Nervous? Yes. Excited? Hell definitely.

03/07/2016

I'm missing her terribly once more.
At times of the day I find my thoughts straying out to two degree mornings and loose clothes beneath shared blankets. I think of dimples and warmth and figuring things out, of hands and scrapbooks and bringing out the best in both of us. I miss us. You were the girl I never expected to fall in love with yet somehow you brought out the best I never knew I had in me. I miss talking to you, I miss seeing your face, and I miss us hanging out. I hope somewhere out there, you're happy where you are.

1/7/2016

i hope the gift has found her happy and well. I hope she loves it and enjoys using it as much as I had enjoyed picking it out for her. At this point I'm a little worried it got lost in the mail.

Went to a playpoint product launch today - free flow prosecco, vodka, and wagyu sliders are always a good invitation. Met a girl who had a landscape architecture diploma. Years later and here she was doing interior design. Same field of work, opposite sides of the coin. Personally I'm hoping to delve into the field of sustainable design or disaster relief design during the course of my career. Currently doing an in-depth research on net-zero buildings and high efficiency HMAC equipment and systems put in place to achieve net-zero energy consumption; hopefully I'll complete it by the end of the year to add to the list of side projects I'm currently working on. This net-zero research is part and parcel of the pre-design analysis for the sustainable modern office in a tropical setting that I'm working on, which in an ideal case scenario would be a grid-independent building with passively reduced energy consumption rates and great yields of renewable energy, of which excess can be stored within a local energy grid to be tapped on during peak consumption periods.

Just to play it out a little, the modern office needs to be flexible yet highly accessible, people are constantly on the go yet require a central system for them to be connected to their colleagues. It has to be dynamic, meaning movable partitions to turn office cubicles into conference rooms within minutes. It has to promote social interaction, meaning social bases for ideas to be displayed and communal spaces with 24/7 access to burn the midnight oil. It has to have an ideal physical environment, meaning great ventilation, lush greenery and natural daylighting throughout the large part of the working day. And lastly it has to reach out, creating customs and cultural norms within the office which can bring about great positive impacts upon the environment.

I read that grid-independent buildings don't work too good, because the building footprint is often too small to be able to harness sufficient renewable energy to power the building throughout the day. Was thinking of a localized grid system though, meaning a larger building footprint formed by a cluster of blocks powering a local grid system serving that particular block. A localised grid means less energy is lost through transmitting the energy over a shorter distance and a central power bank can be put into place to serve the needs of higher demand buildings through the collective energy harnessed. However, the problem still remains that because the cluster is within the same area, times of high grid demand will be similar  (bad weather, evenings and mornings), resulting in a heavy strain on the grid during those peaks.

We also talked about the harnessing of kinetic energy. Various buildings have introduced lifts which serve alternate floors, meaning people would have to walk up/down should they need to reach floors not accessed by lifts. By providing ramps every two floors retrofitted with kinetic/static-energy harnessing technology (carpets etc), a considerable amount of energy could be harnessed to power the building.

Ideally, a central system should be installed to monitor the energy usage of individual spaces within the building at any given time. With this, we can pinpoint the individual equipment demands and adjust accordingly based on on-the-ground needs of the occupants. For example, in a typical 9-5 office setting, lighting and air-con are amongst the highest energy consumers within a building. Regulations may be enforced based on the needs of the occupants, such that perhaps,  access to upper office floors are only permitted between 9-5 (unless booked beforehand) but two common hot-desking floors remain open for use; this herds remaining occupants of the building past a certain time into one location, so energy consumptions for all other floors can be greatly reduced.

Gonna work more on this tomorrow. Net-zero is a tough one.

Edit.
I want to be the person who writes about your hopes and dreams alongside my own, so when either one of us feels lost, alone, or meaningless, I could turn the pages to show you how far you've come, and you'll see that line by line, I'll always be by your side.

30/6/16

It's late and I can't fall back asleep. Funny how I told myself to wake up at 1am and well, here I am. My chest is all warm and uncomfortable and I wanna dip in ice.

29/6/2016

Pleased to hear that her birthday present has shipped out, probably will receive it tomorrow or the following day. Hope she'll find good use of it and takes good care of it. It encapsulates what she's like as a person, i'd like to think. Don't really have the mood to write and my nose keeps bleeding so well oh well. Life has been fresh and good and I'm just hoping my appetite will return soon.

Edit.
I've never quite grasped the feeling. It's like cycling uphill and you can feel you legs giving in, your calves sore and burning. But you pedal harder, you break a sweat and you force yourself to think about the cloud formations above, taste the wind grazing your skin. And after a while, that's all you begin to feel, the uphill climb begins to feel sweet and rewarding and you feel like you've conquered it all.

My sentiments every day, exactly. I make it my goal to conquer each day with tenacity and vigor.

But the pain hasn't really gone has it? Feeding off the sweetness doesn't make the poison go away. But this isn't poison, it is love, and heaven knows if there should be a cure for love at all. Because at the end of the uphill climb, at the overlooking perch over the city, I could smile down for all I want but I know deep inside me I'd rather be chasing her happiness instead. I'm happy, I'm at peace, but for all I'm worth I know where my words run to when I'm lonely, I know where my arms reach towards when I'm not, and I know very well that all that's left is an outline of where love used to lay.

27/06/2016

Well that's just the thing, I'm not.

I tell myself this is for the best, I tell myself this is the last thing I could do for you, but what I would give to meet you once more as an acquaintance who didn't really wanna talk to me. This must be what being evicted feels like, stripped of your home and possessions till you're left with blank white walls where your life used to reside. It's lonely, yes, but worse is seeking shelter in temporary places just to keep you dry when the rain pours. Guess only time will tell.

I haven't gotten over you.

26/6/2016

Now I'm in love with the world
But not through the eyes of a pretty girl
And till I see you again I won't miss you anymore

...

But I don't mind anymore, that you ain't
Like before, I've changed my mind
And I'm leaving this behind
And now I'm sure
That I'll be getting over you

- a small excerpt from last night (Over You, Cashew Chemists)

Edit-
You would've liked this song.

25/6/16

So some days you exist on a different plane of my memory, like some kind of black and white photograph in that album you keep on the shelf.

Other days I hear a song or walk through a place, and it's almost like you're right there.

23/6/2016

Is it selfish of me to risk losing it all for a chance to be who I am? My family, my home, my job, they all lay at the brink of what is to come.

I am terrified.

In less than 15 hours I will be with a stranger, alone, recounting my life to give him as accurate a diagnosis of me as he can.
In less than 16 hours, I may have a needle through my thigh, a shot at a new life.
In less than a week, I may lose all I have built in my family, I will lose trust and I will be humiliated as my story will be tossed about from ear to ear like a commentary.
In less than a month, I may lose my home as they decide they're worst off with a damaged child like me than to have no child at all.
In less than 3 months, I may lose my job to escape the judgement and humiliation of working under such conservative jurisdiction.
I may have just lost it all, but is being stripped bare to the bone worthy of being who is am, is it selfish of me to choose my integrity over the happiness of others?

I am terrified, i am alone, and I am starting to second guess my worth.

22/6/2016

The fact that you think I would do something to intentionally hurt you makes me sick. If I expressed my thoughts the wrong way I am sorry but you don't speak for me when you say I may or may not make you doubt your heart. You don't speak for who I am, every one else already does. I'm sorry I wasn't aware of my mistakes this whole time, I may be toxic and absolute shit but have no doubt that I have never meant to hurt you.

Just some ignorant vile piece of shit aren't I. And so in darkness I am surrounded and darkness I shall become.

21/6

painful as this is, I'm really proud of her for taking the necessary measures to heal. My one only regret is unknowingly destroying her spirit when I thought I was helping her lift it. At least this way I won't be able to hurt her anymore and if goodbye means she'll find herself and happiness once more then I'm happy for her. At least for here and now, there's no other direction to go but up, slowly but surely. And as for me, as terrified as I am to walk alone into that consultation room which quite possibly holds my future, it's a step I've got to take. Take good care of yourself Pamela.

20/6/16

it's time to take matters into my own hands, it's time to realign myself and grow towards a stronger mind, body and soul. Some days I make mistakes, but that won't stop me from taking two steps forward the next door of opportunity I open. Every day I will forgive myself for the mistakes of yesterday, and embark on a brand new chapter of growth. No more binge drinking, no more long hiatuses from working out, no more straying from my conversations with God. If I could pull myself from self harm once, twice, I can sure as hell pull myself together again and set the right foot forward each day. It's time to start living like a warrior, it's time to start living with purpose. I used to be disciplined, I used to be determined, I used to be hungry for personal growth. But while that old fire has since burnt out, I will rise once more from the ashes and start a new flame. My hands have gotten ugly these past 4 years or so, the skin is dry and flakey, there's calluses torn and torn again, my wrists are rings of bruises from the straps cutting into my skin. But with these two hands I've built myself once, and with these two hands I'll build myself once more.

To Sabrina, I can't thank you enough for leaving the light out back for days I can't handle myself. For you I'll do the same.

To Pamela, I'm sorry that things haven't been easy for you, that your best friend didn't turn out as you thought she'd be, and that I couldn't make things any better. I see you learning to be independent and I'm proud of you. But I also see your faith in yourself wavering, and it's gotten far too close to the point of "what does it matter" way too many times. I hope you'll be honest with yourself, and I hope you'll find the strength and determination to find your place in this world, and all the happiness along the way.

-

Must feel nice to know someone gives a shit about you. I miss the happines I used to have, the comfort I could find in her voice. I miss the simplicity in expressing my thoughts and emotions with no need for screening in case she might overthink my intentions. I miss being able to be there for someone, being able to care, being able to trust.

12/6/16

Honestly speaking, I miss her so much. I thought I was done and over it when over the past week or so but just seeing her that one time stopped me in my tracks. Maybe it was how stunning she looked that night, her birthday night, or it might have been how happy she looked surrounded by the people she cares about, whatever it was, it really made me miss spending time with her. Because I throroughly enjoy spending time with her, because I'm validated and can be completely myself around her, because she makes me a better person. She's courage in the face of fear, serenity amidst chaos, love in every sense of the word. I miss her so much.

Lightning Might Just Strike The Same Place Twice

Today, I was struck with one of the lowest moments I've had in months. Unable to lift a weight that I thought I would be able to manage easily, my initial confidence was torn apart and what remained was an overwhelming reminder of how weak I actually was. The boiling pot of nagging insecurities had finally tipped and flushed me with feelings of anguish, frustration and despair, all of which took the form of my breaking down in the corner of the gym. I couldn't tolerate the mechanisms of my body, how slowly it took to reach milestones that should have been reached within fractions of the time had I been born 'normal'. I couldn't tolerate the lack of strength, the limitations of this vessel which forces me into rigid routines for its maintenance. And even then it's not good enough. In all the misery of staring at a stranger in a mirror all these years, I wanted to end it all. I hadn't felt this strong an urge to hit myself since I was around 16 but I only got to hitting myself in the head a few times before I decided that perhaps my patience was being tested. I didn't hit myself anymore after that and went on to complete my workout. I would say that perhaps this is a small stepping stone for me, no matter how small it's still a step and it's still a change.

March blues

Turning 21 and looking back reminds me of all that never was. It's like looking through misted windows at the reel of someone else's life, that my being here is just a spiritual presence with no physical manifestation. There was no childhood, I never had playing soccer with the kids downstairs, there was no intrigue at the changes puberty brought, it wasn't mine to begin with. No clap on the back reminding me of approaching manhood, this existence is on a parallel plane that doesn't intersect reality. I'm just a wandering spirit with no memories and no future. I'm still waiting. Still waiting for my life to begin. So really I'm not turning 21 yet, how could I be when I simply am not there.

Anger

I have a feeling I have spent a thousand dollars to go sit in someone's apartment because nothing has been settled or bought yet, 1 month out. If I knew it was gonna be like this I might as well have spent that thousand dollars on a solo trip to Prague since it's as if I'm going alone anyway.

0901

Going past the places that we once used to roam, I now realize there was as much bliss in planned destinations as there was in unplanned ones, the in-between lapses between the from and the to, these journeys that I'm glad we never overlooked.

0801

When I'm sad, running across a busy street wishing to get run over seems like a really good idea. But I wanted to try to get better, so I'm going to list down the things that I'm sad about today and three things I'm thankful for.
Things I'm sad about:
- I feel that my time is not good enough for anybody else but my cat's. I'm tired of people canceling on me or not bothering to meet up until I ask them. I feel as though I'm desperate for friendship and that's pathetic.
- I'm tired of cancelled trips because those times are the few days or weeks that I'm free of the burden on my shoulders. Nobody knows me in another country and so I'm free to be who I am. But anyways from the looks of it this trip isn't going to happen either cause it can't be just one person planning with completely zero input from the other party. I know you're sooo busy but air tickets aren't gonna wait for anyone either.
- I feel weak and small and like I don't matter. Physically and mentally. Some days like today I can't lift as much as I could because I haven't eaten all day or things like that so I feel really puny and pathetic. And work sometimes makes me feel like I'm not good at anything I do so all I am really is a disposable waste of space.
- Sometimes I feel like I'm the reject friend that you insist on getting cheap meals with because you'd rather spend the cash drinking with your real friends

Things I'm thankful for:
- The nice black and white cat downstairs who greets me when I'm walking home and accompanies me when I have breakdowns downstairs sometimes.
- bob's burgers simply because their family is dysfunctional and their kids are weird and I feel relaxed when I watch it
- I think my boss making me do projects that are almost die because I'm a fast worker. It might also be because he thinks I'm really really free but I'd rather believe in the former.

Tunnel Vision

I wish I could remember this moment forever. Bittersweet feels like the right word to use in this context. I opened up my wounds to you because I had nothing left to lose but you gave me the needle and thread to sew it back together. In exchange for my trust, you gave me the understanding and assurance I need to see the clearer picture. We're both experiencing a different set of challenges than what we know of, and with it must come learning to let go of old habits and fostering the new. I'm willing to do that I hope you are too.