Saturday, October 8, 2011
Chapter 4
Been quite the while since the last few chapters, if you can even call them that. They more of full stops to a period where love was what once mattered. The same goes for a year ago. I remember this day a year ago well. We got down that bottle of JD and hit Wesley after acting and drank away the world to reach the grey mind domain in the hope we would stay there long. Long not for me though. I remember getting up and picking M up on the way to church after a while. While meaning 2 or 3 years. Thing about faith is that what starts with the Dogma's and ceremonies goes to the next step. Absolute faith and the exercise of it being putting trust in faith. But then again, religion for me ends there. God exists, his plan exists, I just acknowledge both and will my soul with spirituality, and the language of souls - music.
The world and humanity were things I used to care about, what then again, both don't care about you. You have one shot at life and only you're to blame if you don't make it to where you want to be. If you're not going to swing, don't bring. Then again, I never cared for boundaries and superficiality,the great never followed the rules. It's not like anyone remembers those who set the rules, right? We're all here to blaze trails and in the process, end with a story worth writing about, or have your name in the line of a song.
Things have moved a long way since my last post, and I sure have been a busy man. I don't know how I got this job, but the point is I have, and I'm here to make a mark. These people see something in me that I don't, but everyone who has, has never been wrong. Every place I've worked, now numbering 5, I've been the youngest and most inexperienced, yet I've left exceeding expectation. I have God to thank for giving me this gift if I have one. To the average person, the last few lines may sound vain, but then again, I have the right to be vain. When you have been through the things I have and done the things I have, you will understand that. But that doesn't mean I'm not humble in my pursuits. Memento Mori - Remember your mortality, you will die any minute, make every minute you've spent before that worth it.
Waking up to that thought really shapes how you go on through the day. Hope getting that tattooed goes well. Oh well, it's been a challenging and rewarding year, one that continues to get better. I hope the people who were part of it are happy, I know the people who are still in it are. They're all that matter.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
21
So here I am again, in front of a screen typing my thoughts, etc, in and sending them out into the vastness of cyberspace among the bytes and networks, like blowing bubbles into the night sky. 21, I've finally made it, but I don't see the big deal, probably coz I've spent the last few years acting like one. I fail to see the significance and why people make a big deal out of this, except now I can drink and party my life away without a second thought. But if only I was normal. The only 21 I see important is Adele's album, such an amazing singer she is, and I'm glad to have named my guitar after her years ago. Funny how all these people who consider themselves big fans after just listening to Rolling In the Deep, after she won the award, without ever having a track from 19, even Hometown Glory. Oh well, not my problem, they can do as they please.
But coming back to the 21, in retrospect, 20 was pretty good in terms, of life, family and love. Though I do wish the 3 would get along easier, but then again, a writer's existence is never normal, it's all about cherishing the semblances of it that come along, time to time. What a relief it is that the lil bro's finally learning to balance work and studying like I did, I suppose he just has to find identity in what he does and he'll do well. Mum keeps deteriorating, and all I can do is take her from doctor to doctor, hoping someone can fix her, it's a losing battle, but I will keep fighting it, no matter what. But I suppose doing that has taken its toll, working 16 hours a day does bring along a fuck load of wear and tear, lets hope things hold together, if not letting go of the world is an easy option.
The question of what I want to do with my life keeps recurring, but at the moment, I don't think the answer till go beyond my mother and taking care of her. Sigh, this does get tiring sometimes but someones got to do it. There is also the question of love but it's one of those rare moments where I'm fully single, no attachments. Of course, people still ask her V, but then again, she just another thing in the past. I never imagined hating, or wanting to hate her, but then again, where this thought is going doesn't matter. I have rediscovered awesomeness and let's hope it lasts. A fucking men.
But coming back to the 21, in retrospect, 20 was pretty good in terms, of life, family and love. Though I do wish the 3 would get along easier, but then again, a writer's existence is never normal, it's all about cherishing the semblances of it that come along, time to time. What a relief it is that the lil bro's finally learning to balance work and studying like I did, I suppose he just has to find identity in what he does and he'll do well. Mum keeps deteriorating, and all I can do is take her from doctor to doctor, hoping someone can fix her, it's a losing battle, but I will keep fighting it, no matter what. But I suppose doing that has taken its toll, working 16 hours a day does bring along a fuck load of wear and tear, lets hope things hold together, if not letting go of the world is an easy option.
The question of what I want to do with my life keeps recurring, but at the moment, I don't think the answer till go beyond my mother and taking care of her. Sigh, this does get tiring sometimes but someones got to do it. There is also the question of love but it's one of those rare moments where I'm fully single, no attachments. Of course, people still ask her V, but then again, she just another thing in the past. I never imagined hating, or wanting to hate her, but then again, where this thought is going doesn't matter. I have rediscovered awesomeness and let's hope it lasts. A fucking men.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Getting there.
Reading that last post, it's quite amazing and in ways scary to see how fast things change. So much has, since the last post, most in the good way. I think the most important change is on the work front where J has decided to put me on freelance for a few months so that I can sort myself out, can't thank her enough for not firing me.
Work just keeps coming and opening up new windows to everywhere. Just when I thought I could sit back and chill we get a new corporate project and I'm being put in charge of it...gulp...better not fuck it up David! But it's not my fault if I do, these headaches get worse with every day that go. Doc says it's low blood pressure probably caused by those days not eating combined with the depression.
On the other hand, after reading this thing she wasn't supposed to read that I wrote while in Negombo, J is convinced that I've got what it takes to write something that will win the Booker. Either she's as crazy as I am or sees something I don't. Although, winning it would be cool.
I suppose that's one thing I like about my life. I maybe a fuck up, but a gifted fuck up at that. No day is ever boring. In time to come I guess there will be less surviving it and more living it, good things always come slow. Also reconnected with Kei-chan, feels nice talking to someone who's been through the past almost decade of your life.
I like how J offers to buy me women, lol, she's awesome. Thanks to an old friend, I suppose I don't have to be too flustered about the events of the recent past. An old friend was right. "Don't change who you've always been and are. If things don't work out the first, or the second, or even the third time, it's because at the end of that line is the perfect one. And you're lucky your line keep getting progressively better, imagine what's coming up?!"
I don't know how T makes so much sense sometimes, but she's right. I guess somewhere down the line when I'm with whoever that maybe that's supposed to come along, I'll think to myself saying 'phew, thank God I didn't get stuck with dimple butt'. Oh well whatever.
Work just keeps coming and opening up new windows to everywhere. Just when I thought I could sit back and chill we get a new corporate project and I'm being put in charge of it...gulp...better not fuck it up David! But it's not my fault if I do, these headaches get worse with every day that go. Doc says it's low blood pressure probably caused by those days not eating combined with the depression.
On the other hand, after reading this thing she wasn't supposed to read that I wrote while in Negombo, J is convinced that I've got what it takes to write something that will win the Booker. Either she's as crazy as I am or sees something I don't. Although, winning it would be cool.
I suppose that's one thing I like about my life. I maybe a fuck up, but a gifted fuck up at that. No day is ever boring. In time to come I guess there will be less surviving it and more living it, good things always come slow. Also reconnected with Kei-chan, feels nice talking to someone who's been through the past almost decade of your life.
I like how J offers to buy me women, lol, she's awesome. Thanks to an old friend, I suppose I don't have to be too flustered about the events of the recent past. An old friend was right. "Don't change who you've always been and are. If things don't work out the first, or the second, or even the third time, it's because at the end of that line is the perfect one. And you're lucky your line keep getting progressively better, imagine what's coming up?!"
I don't know how T makes so much sense sometimes, but she's right. I guess somewhere down the line when I'm with whoever that maybe that's supposed to come along, I'll think to myself saying 'phew, thank God I didn't get stuck with dimple butt'. Oh well whatever.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Distressing damsels
Instincts, do I listen to them or not? At times it seems an easy answer, at times it seems a difficult question. People don't change, just the way they live their lives. But that's something I've always been good at. Helping people change their lives. Most often it's just ended up biting me in the ass, but according numerology and my number 6, that's my nature and I'll always have an inclination to do things without thought or reason. Which of course means I'm fucked! Royally.
In this case though, I suppose the matter is more close to heart and I've been through it once and it didn't turn for the best. But does that mean I change who I am, by not acting? I don't know, even on the other end, I don't know what's going on, but I'd like to help and don't know why, but too scared to do so. I suppose this needs a little more thinking, actually maybe more and even some alcohol.
In this case though, I suppose the matter is more close to heart and I've been through it once and it didn't turn for the best. But does that mean I change who I am, by not acting? I don't know, even on the other end, I don't know what's going on, but I'd like to help and don't know why, but too scared to do so. I suppose this needs a little more thinking, actually maybe more and even some alcohol.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Finally
I finally did it. Wasn't bittersweet as I thought it would be, just bitter. I still love her, so much. I'll never understand why she did the things she did but there is no point me holding onto her at the cost of my health while she's with that sack of shit. Once you cross a boundary, you're not afraid to cross it again. Even if there was hope of something, it wouldn't the same. But anyway, I don't regret anything so far, just miss her, so much, but I'm a soldier of fortune, I move on. Into the sunset, in search of better days and a new home, to find that ordinary world that is out there.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Next week
It's weird that I can live all the days of the year without getting emotional about it, but when the week to the day approaches it all keeps coming back. Sigh. I don't think I'll go see him this time. I'm a mess thanks to all this recent shit. I was a happy kid last time Dad saw me, and I was a content man last I visited him. I'm neither now. No point tearing over that grave when I have more to tear about in the mirror.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Mother's Day
Mom,
I love you.
Funny how the simplest words
Are the hardest to say
We waste our time waiting
Holding words for another day
A day that may not come
After all, no one is here to stay
I get old
Mom gets older
Say it when you can
Or fornever hold your peace.
I love you.
Funny how the simplest words
Are the hardest to say
We waste our time waiting
Holding words for another day
A day that may not come
After all, no one is here to stay
I get old
Mom gets older
Say it when you can
Or fornever hold your peace.
Some days
Some days, the sun shines brighter
The birds chirp and the air is lighter
Other days, the clouds pour anger
Mothers scream about lightning's danger
Some days, dreams colour nights
Rain happiness on ethereal sights
Other days, nightmares come to life
Bring torture and undeserved strife
Some days, the stars don't seem out of reach
There are no boundaries you can't breach
Other days, even a breath seems hard
You feel your live's a broken beaten chard
Some days, you're loved and cared for
They serve you on a silver platter and ask if you need more
Other days, you're just a quicksand Jesus answer
Called in time of need and forgotten after
Some nights, resolve meets problem
Heart meets peace, in tandem
Other nights, despair meets mind
Questions with answers you can't find
Sometimes, I think I've moved on
You were the past; dead and gone
Some time the next day, you come back
Smile, and play our favourite track
Some days, I wish things were simpler
I wish there came a day I didn't have to wish at all
That everything came to pass as deserved
Till then I hold the memories preserved
It will come I tell myself
Some day
Some day.
The birds chirp and the air is lighter
Other days, the clouds pour anger
Mothers scream about lightning's danger
Some days, dreams colour nights
Rain happiness on ethereal sights
Other days, nightmares come to life
Bring torture and undeserved strife
Some days, the stars don't seem out of reach
There are no boundaries you can't breach
Other days, even a breath seems hard
You feel your live's a broken beaten chard
Some days, you're loved and cared for
They serve you on a silver platter and ask if you need more
Other days, you're just a quicksand Jesus answer
Called in time of need and forgotten after
Some nights, resolve meets problem
Heart meets peace, in tandem
Other nights, despair meets mind
Questions with answers you can't find
Sometimes, I think I've moved on
You were the past; dead and gone
Some time the next day, you come back
Smile, and play our favourite track
Some days, I wish things were simpler
I wish there came a day I didn't have to wish at all
That everything came to pass as deserved
Till then I hold the memories preserved
It will come I tell myself
Some day
Some day.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
The call
Not often does the female human variety make sense, but when they do, oh they make a whole load of it. It was a much need slap in the face by wisdom and from a person least expected. Sadly, thanks to her there will be no novel. Don't know what I was thinking. Sigh. What a waste of writing and chapters. I don't know why I've been doing the things I have to myself these few weeks, but I suppose that's over, redemption comes quite serendipitously.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
To go or not to go.
In 17 days, it will be 2191 days,
To the last day I saw you,
Seated in the back of that red Audi,
I know you did all you could do
To go on; to live; to see us again.
Your lifetimes work in vain.
A father's silence, a mother's tears
Among a thousand graves, all these years.
On that day the rain fell surprising.
We knew the heaven's wept; you were there.
Your boys then slept; never to awaken.
In the morning rose men; their innocence taken.
Days weren't the same; your ashtray empty
Mum wasn't the same; her cries plenty
Home just house with your picture in front
'Dad' just a word with no owner
I remember you say, "Don't be a mourner,
Celebrate my freedom when I'm gone"
The graveyard is a reminder that tomorrow comes
Always before you even know it.
We're on our way to the exit; inevitable.
Why it takes a death to realize, I don't know.
But lessons learned, stones turned
On that day, I will come see you.
To the last day I saw you,
Seated in the back of that red Audi,
I know you did all you could do
To go on; to live; to see us again.
Your lifetimes work in vain.
A father's silence, a mother's tears
Among a thousand graves, all these years.
On that day the rain fell surprising.
We knew the heaven's wept; you were there.
Your boys then slept; never to awaken.
In the morning rose men; their innocence taken.
Days weren't the same; your ashtray empty
Mum wasn't the same; her cries plenty
Home just house with your picture in front
'Dad' just a word with no owner
I remember you say, "Don't be a mourner,
Celebrate my freedom when I'm gone"
The graveyard is a reminder that tomorrow comes
Always before you even know it.
We're on our way to the exit; inevitable.
Why it takes a death to realize, I don't know.
But lessons learned, stones turned
On that day, I will come see you.
Chapter 3
Dearest V,
I went out with someone today. She's an artist, drop dead gorgeous, has a tattoo on her arm, half French and makes good brownies. You should have seen the look on everyone's faces when they saw me with her. Fucking twats! Why does everyone make me out to be a druggie and all that. I'm just a good boy, who loves his mom and works his ass off to come up in life with the gift I have. So I don't shave sometimes and I wear linen clothes. But only because they're more comfortable. I wish people stop stereotyping so much.
It was fun to have some company. Cocktails at the Lighthouse, but all throughout, all I could do was wish you could be there. Semblances of you appear in everything, like shooting stars out of a night sky and they make you wish. Funny how I always spell 'wish' wrong the first time. I don't know what you're doing now, but I wish that there was a way to be there. I don't know where we are heading, but I know I'm lost. Everyday, the world fades, loses a little more colour. Till one day, all there is left is purple. The colour of hope. I'm too scared to think about a day like that. I miss you angel.
Yours always,
LD
Ps. I wish I could send you this letter, but they say you're happy, so I won't. I don't want to ruin anything for you. I really do hope you know what you're doing.
This is my first attempt at a novel. All writing is copyright to Lasantha David and cannot be taken or reproduced under any circumstances.
I went out with someone today. She's an artist, drop dead gorgeous, has a tattoo on her arm, half French and makes good brownies. You should have seen the look on everyone's faces when they saw me with her. Fucking twats! Why does everyone make me out to be a druggie and all that. I'm just a good boy, who loves his mom and works his ass off to come up in life with the gift I have. So I don't shave sometimes and I wear linen clothes. But only because they're more comfortable. I wish people stop stereotyping so much.
It was fun to have some company. Cocktails at the Lighthouse, but all throughout, all I could do was wish you could be there. Semblances of you appear in everything, like shooting stars out of a night sky and they make you wish. Funny how I always spell 'wish' wrong the first time. I don't know what you're doing now, but I wish that there was a way to be there. I don't know where we are heading, but I know I'm lost. Everyday, the world fades, loses a little more colour. Till one day, all there is left is purple. The colour of hope. I'm too scared to think about a day like that. I miss you angel.
Yours always,
LD
Ps. I wish I could send you this letter, but they say you're happy, so I won't. I don't want to ruin anything for you. I really do hope you know what you're doing.
This is my first attempt at a novel. All writing is copyright to Lasantha David and cannot be taken or reproduced under any circumstances.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Chapter 2
"So, vut next cherie, what are you writing next?" she asked as she sipped on her Margarita. I always wondered how she ended up with that slight accent, especially since she's lived in Sri Lanka all her life. But I suppose it's because her Dad is an asshole and never there, and it's the mom who brings all 3 kids up alone. I have nothing but the utmost respect for that woman. "Two books actually, this all-island guide thing and what will be the most comprehensive book on Sri Lankan art". "Very nice, I want a copy of eat. Mamon will like eat". "I will make sure I give her a signed copy when I do give it out". I sip my Mojito. I like this bar, it's so warm and cozy, I wish that V was here an... "Will you take me to Colombo zumtime Devid? I want to walk one day on the Galle Face". "Sure, when I am free. I don't like going back to Colombo now anyway, hurts too much". Why the fuck did I just say that.."What, you mean ze travel?". "No, the people. How are the paintings coming? What's the theme this time?". I've always been good at changing the topic. But somehow, inside, it's a topic I didn't want to change. I wanted to talk about it. I have so many questions with no answers. I wish I co..."It's coming goot. This time will be more expensive, but not sure if it will sell". "Oh I'm sure it will". "Why, are you going to buy one?". "No, but we can exchange. My book, for your painting. Art for art. Sounds good yeah?". "I will tzink about it, or how about I exchange you for a painting?".
I wasn't really sure how to answer that. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to flirt. People told me to do this because apparently I would feel better. They were wrong. I didn't want to feel better, I just wanted to feel her. Sometimes giving into peer pressure is what ruins everything. Peers after all aren't perfect, they've made their mistakes too. We all have made our mistakes. But why listen to someone just as fallible as you? "Okay, maybe you're worth more tzan one painting". "Heh Heh, I'm flattered, aren't your paintings worth over 100k each?". She humbly shrugged her shoulders in a 'I don't know, what do you think' way. "So what happen to that guy who were seeing? From college". I just remembered, at J's party, the both of us were being made fun of for being in 'love'. And now 3 weeks later, we're sitting here with stories on our mind, someone else still in our hearts, the lines from no sleeping, under our eyelids. I feel like a shoe. Worn to get somewhere and left out in the rain. "Ee was an asshole. Thought he could push people around with ees muscles. I tzink tzat lampshade behind you as more brains tzan him. I don't know what I was thinking when we got together. Eat was okay for ze first few weeks and tzen I was just a trophy you know. I like to talk about tzings, he just like to kiss. I hear you're not like that". "Where have you heard these things?". "Someone". "Oh comon Nicole, who said what, this quite interesting". "Well, I can't tell you who, but I will tell you some, just a littel I av heard about you".
This was indeed interesting. I needed the ego boost too after all the shit I had been through. That is, if at all what's been said it good. If it is, God Bless whichever fucking big mouth couldn't keep his trap shut. "They told me about tzis woman at that night we couldn't come to, the launch. But I don't tzink it was ze same one that D was telling us about", "Am I right?" "Well, there was more than one woman at the launch" "Well oo was ze one you were holding afterwards?" "Oh, yeah that one" "She was ze one J was talking about, non, you running away in ze middle of work searching for scarves" "What has she told you?" "Eat is a petite town cherie, news is fast around ear" "I wouldn't really call it news" "Look at you. If you were fair, I'm sure your cheeks would be red right now that I've reminded you of that person in the boos pictures" "Nicole! You're drunk love" "And you're love drunk" "Nice turn phrase, I see you've learnt a thing or two from me" "You're so full of yourself" "You're so full of alcohol". And we laughed. It felt good to laugh again. But not as good as laughing with her. In fact, a lot of things didn't feel the same without her. Still don't. "You know tzat saying - if you love tzumthing, let eat go.." "Okay I know where you're going with that" and I cupped her mouth with my palm, she just looked at it and said I needed to cut my nails. "I lost my nail cutter some weeks ago". The night didn't work out as planned, it wasn't normal. Well, probably because Nicole and I weren't exactly 'normal' people. Then again, what is normal. Ah fuck that, too much thinking is bad for you. "Lets go have a smoke and go home" I said as I walked across the same spot where Candace Bushnell signed my GLF book.
The night was still young, but we were two old souls with our heads stuck in a different place. We sat in the car watching the coastline snake away into the hills in the distance as the light bulbs on them competed with the stars above while the moon pretended to shine. Nicole gazed out to the West, out into the open black of the night and ocean that danced beneath it. "Wouldn't it be eazier being a fish?" "Don't think it is any easier" "Why, we swim, and swim and swim, no one expects anytzing from you. You don't av to work so ard everyzay" "But there will be other fish out there who want to eat you and then there's the fisherman, and no facebook either" "Ah I do not use that rubbeesh. Life is a real thing. Real people meet face to face, like you and me. You can never trust what this people say" "Bad experience?" "Common sense" and we smiled. Funny how I can't smile without remembering her smile. "You need to eat more Devid" "Really? You think so, but the doctors told me I was overweight" "Go like this and I'll dump you in Sudan and they will think you one of tzem" "I try, but I haven't got an appetite" "I will force it, and lets go now, I ave to piss and don't tzink I'm allowed in tzese bathe-roomz after being caught making out in tzem" "Kinky" "I know, imagine if Mamon found out" and she winked at me. "You're too drunk to drive, lets catch a tuk, now hide behind that bush so they don't charge us the white price".
The way back was uneventful, I kept my distance. I did the same a few times with V as well. Lets hope that not everything turns out the same way it did with that, does too much damage at the end. But Nicole is different, she's stronger, knows what she is doing and she's someone who'll fight for something she loves. Maybe that's the French side of her, who knows. "I enjoeyed tzat Devid, I ope you go back to ze way you were when I met you" "I hope so too. Thanks for tonight".
This is my first attempt at a novel. All writing is copyright to Lasantha David and cannot be taken or reproduced under any circumstances.
I wasn't really sure how to answer that. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to flirt. People told me to do this because apparently I would feel better. They were wrong. I didn't want to feel better, I just wanted to feel her. Sometimes giving into peer pressure is what ruins everything. Peers after all aren't perfect, they've made their mistakes too. We all have made our mistakes. But why listen to someone just as fallible as you? "Okay, maybe you're worth more tzan one painting". "Heh Heh, I'm flattered, aren't your paintings worth over 100k each?". She humbly shrugged her shoulders in a 'I don't know, what do you think' way. "So what happen to that guy who were seeing? From college". I just remembered, at J's party, the both of us were being made fun of for being in 'love'. And now 3 weeks later, we're sitting here with stories on our mind, someone else still in our hearts, the lines from no sleeping, under our eyelids. I feel like a shoe. Worn to get somewhere and left out in the rain. "Ee was an asshole. Thought he could push people around with ees muscles. I tzink tzat lampshade behind you as more brains tzan him. I don't know what I was thinking when we got together. Eat was okay for ze first few weeks and tzen I was just a trophy you know. I like to talk about tzings, he just like to kiss. I hear you're not like that". "Where have you heard these things?". "Someone". "Oh comon Nicole, who said what, this quite interesting". "Well, I can't tell you who, but I will tell you some, just a littel I av heard about you".
This was indeed interesting. I needed the ego boost too after all the shit I had been through. That is, if at all what's been said it good. If it is, God Bless whichever fucking big mouth couldn't keep his trap shut. "They told me about tzis woman at that night we couldn't come to, the launch. But I don't tzink it was ze same one that D was telling us about", "Am I right?" "Well, there was more than one woman at the launch" "Well oo was ze one you were holding afterwards?" "Oh, yeah that one" "She was ze one J was talking about, non, you running away in ze middle of work searching for scarves" "What has she told you?" "Eat is a petite town cherie, news is fast around ear" "I wouldn't really call it news" "Look at you. If you were fair, I'm sure your cheeks would be red right now that I've reminded you of that person in the boos pictures" "Nicole! You're drunk love" "And you're love drunk" "Nice turn phrase, I see you've learnt a thing or two from me" "You're so full of yourself" "You're so full of alcohol". And we laughed. It felt good to laugh again. But not as good as laughing with her. In fact, a lot of things didn't feel the same without her. Still don't. "You know tzat saying - if you love tzumthing, let eat go.." "Okay I know where you're going with that" and I cupped her mouth with my palm, she just looked at it and said I needed to cut my nails. "I lost my nail cutter some weeks ago". The night didn't work out as planned, it wasn't normal. Well, probably because Nicole and I weren't exactly 'normal' people. Then again, what is normal. Ah fuck that, too much thinking is bad for you. "Lets go have a smoke and go home" I said as I walked across the same spot where Candace Bushnell signed my GLF book.
The night was still young, but we were two old souls with our heads stuck in a different place. We sat in the car watching the coastline snake away into the hills in the distance as the light bulbs on them competed with the stars above while the moon pretended to shine. Nicole gazed out to the West, out into the open black of the night and ocean that danced beneath it. "Wouldn't it be eazier being a fish?" "Don't think it is any easier" "Why, we swim, and swim and swim, no one expects anytzing from you. You don't av to work so ard everyzay" "But there will be other fish out there who want to eat you and then there's the fisherman, and no facebook either" "Ah I do not use that rubbeesh. Life is a real thing. Real people meet face to face, like you and me. You can never trust what this people say" "Bad experience?" "Common sense" and we smiled. Funny how I can't smile without remembering her smile. "You need to eat more Devid" "Really? You think so, but the doctors told me I was overweight" "Go like this and I'll dump you in Sudan and they will think you one of tzem" "I try, but I haven't got an appetite" "I will force it, and lets go now, I ave to piss and don't tzink I'm allowed in tzese bathe-roomz after being caught making out in tzem" "Kinky" "I know, imagine if Mamon found out" and she winked at me. "You're too drunk to drive, lets catch a tuk, now hide behind that bush so they don't charge us the white price".
The way back was uneventful, I kept my distance. I did the same a few times with V as well. Lets hope that not everything turns out the same way it did with that, does too much damage at the end. But Nicole is different, she's stronger, knows what she is doing and she's someone who'll fight for something she loves. Maybe that's the French side of her, who knows. "I enjoeyed tzat Devid, I ope you go back to ze way you were when I met you" "I hope so too. Thanks for tonight".
This is my first attempt at a novel. All writing is copyright to Lasantha David and cannot be taken or reproduced under any circumstances.
Chapter 1
I thought years ago, that God sends that someone your way and you get married and live happily ever after. What did I know, I was only 8 at the time and still able to walk around the house without someone shrieking about me not having any pants on. Much has changed since then, for better, for worse, more for worse actually. Gone are the days when Mamma would say "pray putha, and God will give you anything". He didn't. Even when all I asked for was her happiness. Does that mean she lied to me? Well maybe, I mean there was that time when I was 6 and started getting boners, she said "choo pirilla". So what. Some moms lie about Santa Claus and storks bringing children home, and about how she got that bruise on her face from 'falling down', even though it looks like Daddy's ring. There are things we need to know; some at the right time, and some, never. In the days when hormones spewed out of my glands like lava from an erupting volcano, I know there were times when I'd go off at her. I still shoot myself in the face when I think of those instances. She never deserved any of it.
Sitting on this rooftop watching as the horizon eats the sun and cold ocean thrusts at the shoreline like a copulating animal. Back and forth. Back and forth. One the raging tide, and the other, the delicate pristine sand, but for a moment too short, they are one, like lovers in embrace gazing into each other's eyes. But in a cloud of white froth, it is over. Funny thing about the ocean, it reminds me of me in this aspect. It always keep coming back, again and again, and again, relentlessly. But then again, the shore can't run away; women can. Ah, my cigarettes gone out. That's one thing I hate about the ocean, the breeze. So I light another one and take a look at the note I never gave her. Written on the back of an interview I did when writing my book, I always thought it was quirky to do that. I remember the time I asked her out, the letter before doing so was written on the back of a chemistry practical from back in school. This one stayed there folded and sombre, tainted in tears and the perfume sprayed on it. Funny how you give a person everything they asked for and yet you end up short, abandoned on an empty road in the night as a storm approaches. She just kept driving on. No second chances. No point holding onto this, I set fire to it with my new cigarette, which has also almost gone out! Watched it burn like I did my own life in those past few weeks.
I should stop thinking so much when I'm near the sea. But I can't help it, the song of the sea is like a siren to my mind, singing a sweet tune that calls and lures out my thoughts. Anyway, I can't stay longer, I hear the horn of that old Mini approaching, so I put on my trusty faded pair of Levis, probably the only thing that doesn't leave me, even if I asked it to. I head down the stairs and there she was sitting on the sofa, leaning her head back and smiling. Sure she was smiling, but I hadn't seen this smile before, it was a red smile, that's the only way I could describe it. Red was a colour I could associate with Nicole, her skin was golden. Her colour gave off a sublime warmth, in the same way a shaving light did. Of course she did, she was half French. "Hi". "Hey". I wasn't sure what to do there. I know with V I would always look at her like a blue-eyed boy, watch her as she walked towards me and then hug her tight. But hey, this was just the beginning, and could even be the end. We rubbed cheeks and smacked our lips. I never understood why people did that. The only person who would do it properly was D. She used to hold my face like a gentle lover about to make out, close her eyes and plant two on either cheek. She had a special way of doing things, I hope she's okay in the big world of NGOs out there. But forget that, they are not here, Nicole is and the destination is the Lighthouse and beyond. We got some glances on the way out of the Fort. Everyone knew Nicole. Everyone wanted to date her. I bet they were thinking how I ended up in the car with her. I mean I look just like them in ways with my linen attire. But I am no junkie and never will be. I'm a writer, motherfuckers!
"So Devid, ow was your de?". "It just got better. How was yours?". "Goot, and I av this filling it will get better". Was I supposed to smile for that? I don't know, but I did. And so did she. I don't know who I am these days. I hold onto who I knew I was. I miss V, really do. I wonder if she misses me. Little by little, we're getting lost. But it was no fault of mine. I didn't deserve it; I put up a fight to no avail. I wish th.. "Are you okay Devid? You look like a lost littel boy". I wanted to say, I am one, but then I would have to explain why. "No, it's just been a long week, I'm happy you came. Merci beaucoup. Et vous êtes un bon conducteur, Nicole". "Oh, tsank you, I hope you...". And the conversation went on as we made our way north along the A2 highway on which many of my emotions and thoughts have spilled.
This is my first attempt at a novel. All writing is copyright to Lasantha David and cannot be taken or reproduced under any circumstances.
Sitting on this rooftop watching as the horizon eats the sun and cold ocean thrusts at the shoreline like a copulating animal. Back and forth. Back and forth. One the raging tide, and the other, the delicate pristine sand, but for a moment too short, they are one, like lovers in embrace gazing into each other's eyes. But in a cloud of white froth, it is over. Funny thing about the ocean, it reminds me of me in this aspect. It always keep coming back, again and again, and again, relentlessly. But then again, the shore can't run away; women can. Ah, my cigarettes gone out. That's one thing I hate about the ocean, the breeze. So I light another one and take a look at the note I never gave her. Written on the back of an interview I did when writing my book, I always thought it was quirky to do that. I remember the time I asked her out, the letter before doing so was written on the back of a chemistry practical from back in school. This one stayed there folded and sombre, tainted in tears and the perfume sprayed on it. Funny how you give a person everything they asked for and yet you end up short, abandoned on an empty road in the night as a storm approaches. She just kept driving on. No second chances. No point holding onto this, I set fire to it with my new cigarette, which has also almost gone out! Watched it burn like I did my own life in those past few weeks.
I should stop thinking so much when I'm near the sea. But I can't help it, the song of the sea is like a siren to my mind, singing a sweet tune that calls and lures out my thoughts. Anyway, I can't stay longer, I hear the horn of that old Mini approaching, so I put on my trusty faded pair of Levis, probably the only thing that doesn't leave me, even if I asked it to. I head down the stairs and there she was sitting on the sofa, leaning her head back and smiling. Sure she was smiling, but I hadn't seen this smile before, it was a red smile, that's the only way I could describe it. Red was a colour I could associate with Nicole, her skin was golden. Her colour gave off a sublime warmth, in the same way a shaving light did. Of course she did, she was half French. "Hi". "Hey". I wasn't sure what to do there. I know with V I would always look at her like a blue-eyed boy, watch her as she walked towards me and then hug her tight. But hey, this was just the beginning, and could even be the end. We rubbed cheeks and smacked our lips. I never understood why people did that. The only person who would do it properly was D. She used to hold my face like a gentle lover about to make out, close her eyes and plant two on either cheek. She had a special way of doing things, I hope she's okay in the big world of NGOs out there. But forget that, they are not here, Nicole is and the destination is the Lighthouse and beyond. We got some glances on the way out of the Fort. Everyone knew Nicole. Everyone wanted to date her. I bet they were thinking how I ended up in the car with her. I mean I look just like them in ways with my linen attire. But I am no junkie and never will be. I'm a writer, motherfuckers!
"So Devid, ow was your de?". "It just got better. How was yours?". "Goot, and I av this filling it will get better". Was I supposed to smile for that? I don't know, but I did. And so did she. I don't know who I am these days. I hold onto who I knew I was. I miss V, really do. I wonder if she misses me. Little by little, we're getting lost. But it was no fault of mine. I didn't deserve it; I put up a fight to no avail. I wish th.. "Are you okay Devid? You look like a lost littel boy". I wanted to say, I am one, but then I would have to explain why. "No, it's just been a long week, I'm happy you came. Merci beaucoup. Et vous êtes un bon conducteur, Nicole". "Oh, tsank you, I hope you...". And the conversation went on as we made our way north along the A2 highway on which many of my emotions and thoughts have spilled.
This is my first attempt at a novel. All writing is copyright to Lasantha David and cannot be taken or reproduced under any circumstances.
Funny how
Funny how people ask for a good lovin' but when you give them that, they just run away. It's hard to fathom why, but like all things to do with female variables in a situation, you just say "Ah, women", and life goes on. But somehow, that isn't right. I mean we're way past the days when women weren't allowed to vote and all that, we're almost equal now so why should it be a woman's prerogative and if indeed, this 'equality' is achieved, then there be no need for chivalry. Hopefully, some of us are the last of this breed, there is nothing emotionally profitable about being chivalrous.
Funny how time and time again, the lesson of don't give too much, you won't get the same back never sticks to me. But I guess I'm wired to lose that way. There is no win in that situation, just the inner content that you haven't done wrong, but what does content do? Not like it can replace the warmth and smell of a loved one who has left your life unexplained. Oh well, the lesson then is to drink and expect a hangover. When the poison flows through your blood, you feel good. Same as the love flowing through, you feel good. But when that goes, you just feel like Big Mamma sat on you. But the difference there is with drinking you don't remember the in between, but in love you do. And rather funnily, you drink to forget that.
Funny how much damage a single person acting fucked up for a single few minutes can do. But like all things mundane, I suppose there ain't no point watering the dead plant. Unless you have a trust fund, life is like walking up a downward bound escalator. The moment you stop moving forward, you start going down back.
Funny how time and time again, the lesson of don't give too much, you won't get the same back never sticks to me. But I guess I'm wired to lose that way. There is no win in that situation, just the inner content that you haven't done wrong, but what does content do? Not like it can replace the warmth and smell of a loved one who has left your life unexplained. Oh well, the lesson then is to drink and expect a hangover. When the poison flows through your blood, you feel good. Same as the love flowing through, you feel good. But when that goes, you just feel like Big Mamma sat on you. But the difference there is with drinking you don't remember the in between, but in love you do. And rather funnily, you drink to forget that.
Funny how much damage a single person acting fucked up for a single few minutes can do. But like all things mundane, I suppose there ain't no point watering the dead plant. Unless you have a trust fund, life is like walking up a downward bound escalator. The moment you stop moving forward, you start going down back.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
In this arena there is no coming back
These days fall like rain washing away the blood
As it did on the beaches of Normandy 1944
Like gladiators we fight here; blood, sand and mud
Will Missio be given or the blades of our actions
Cut through our attractions and spill our guts
Whose feelings were the mistakes that led us here.
Do we wield our swords in hope, or anger, or fear?
Do you trust your judgment to make the final thrust?
Will it bring your mind the peace of spring
Or will a blizzard of winter descend on tomorrow
Might the end spell happiness or sorrow?
Can we move on and get back on track?
For in this arena, there is no coming back.
As it did on the beaches of Normandy 1944
Like gladiators we fight here; blood, sand and mud
Will Missio be given or the blades of our actions
Cut through our attractions and spill our guts
Whose feelings were the mistakes that led us here.
Do we wield our swords in hope, or anger, or fear?
Do you trust your judgment to make the final thrust?
Will it bring your mind the peace of spring
Or will a blizzard of winter descend on tomorrow
Might the end spell happiness or sorrow?
Can we move on and get back on track?
For in this arena, there is no coming back.
Ouch
I'm genuinely scared now. Chest it tightening up and it's hard to breathe. I don't want to trouble anyone but this is getting bad. I don't know what's going on but this pain is getting worse. This could even be the last thing I write. Goodbye.
2 weeks
It's been an interesting two weeks, a tiring 2 weeks, a dreaded 2 weeks. My head has been stuck in the same place focused on that one thing at times, and at other times all over the place focused on that one thing. If there is any positive in it, it s that it has shown me the people who care about me; genuinely, truly, boundlessly. If it weren't for them, I might not be alive, I wouldn't have eaten, I might not have even given this another try and resolve to keep trying.
Even if I collected all the tears that fell in gratitude when I think about the things they have done for me and the ways they have taken care of me, and turned it into money and still can't pay back their kindness for that's priceless, even the littlest of gestures. Overwhelming in more ways than one these days have been. Even now I'm as sick as shit, but I'm not going to take any medicines. I'm preparing to fight for something, no time to sit back and reply on chemicals.
Let my will be my medicine, let my friends love be my strength and let my weathered ways be my guide to the days ahead.
Even if I collected all the tears that fell in gratitude when I think about the things they have done for me and the ways they have taken care of me, and turned it into money and still can't pay back their kindness for that's priceless, even the littlest of gestures. Overwhelming in more ways than one these days have been. Even now I'm as sick as shit, but I'm not going to take any medicines. I'm preparing to fight for something, no time to sit back and reply on chemicals.
Let my will be my medicine, let my friends love be my strength and let my weathered ways be my guide to the days ahead.
Friday, April 22, 2011
The other person
6 months it has been since the depression started again after an absence of 4 years. I thought dancing cured it but it resurfaced with the Mayanthi drama and Deshani leaving. I'm not sure what the trigger was but I suspect, it was that sinking feeling of loneliness and sudden darkening of the room in my mind that did it. Being with Vishmi helped a little bit, I felt a decrease in the time span of a single attack, but now that's gone. I have no reason to fight back the clouds and with everyday it gets worse.
Today it seemed like I shut off for a while. The symptoms were the usual headache, increase of pressure on the brain, the vigorous pulsation of arteries on my eyeballs and that feeling of darkness and loss of my sense of fear. I hate it when that happens, everything seems possible, even jumping off the terrace. It scares me, because I'm not afraid to die, but don't want to at this stage. I wish it would stop.
But this bout of it was different from other days because it's like I lost control of myself for an hour, like somehow I went to sleep and it was another person in control. Such a surreal feeling looking at it now. I knew Seni was busy, but I wanted to call Vishmi, but couldn't, but somehow the thought of that sparked me to writer her a letter. This is all too fucking weird, I hope it doesn't happen again. Or maybe it should, so that this ends once and for all. All for once, I wish the other person can take control and do the necessary.
Today it seemed like I shut off for a while. The symptoms were the usual headache, increase of pressure on the brain, the vigorous pulsation of arteries on my eyeballs and that feeling of darkness and loss of my sense of fear. I hate it when that happens, everything seems possible, even jumping off the terrace. It scares me, because I'm not afraid to die, but don't want to at this stage. I wish it would stop.
But this bout of it was different from other days because it's like I lost control of myself for an hour, like somehow I went to sleep and it was another person in control. Such a surreal feeling looking at it now. I knew Seni was busy, but I wanted to call Vishmi, but couldn't, but somehow the thought of that sparked me to writer her a letter. This is all too fucking weird, I hope it doesn't happen again. Or maybe it should, so that this ends once and for all. All for once, I wish the other person can take control and do the necessary.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Afterthoughts
I would like to think we were both right. I'd like to think we were both wrong. At this point I don't think there is a point to going back and trying to figure out what, where, or when it went wrong. The writing is clear and you're just another brick in the wall of someone else's memory or forever a scar on their heart. As for me, finally I have closure. I've played my part in her story and given my everything to see her happy, and I mean everything. But I should know better than to expect the same. Life's endearing lesson and after all these years I still haven't learned it.
My faith will always be in fate. Que Sera Sera, they say whatever will be, will be. I still love her, her happiness mine, if this is what makes her happy, why should I try to change it. Some days in this greater scheme of things, you're a crucial piece on the board and other days, you're a dispensable pawn. It is one of the cruelly revealing truths of life, never take anything for granted and never expect out of something you can't control. I made the mistake of forgetting that and so the price I paid for the sandcastles we made next to the sea of reality.
The price is heavy and after all I've done, I don't think I deserve to pay this price. 5 meals and counting that I've skipped because I have no appetite, the depression in my head is almost tangible and pressing against my brain causing a unending headache and ringing in my ears that never stops and gives me no sleep. The angina's set in like tremors and aftershocks, wish someone could something about at least that. But oh well David, this is the price you pay for everyday that you spent dreaming. Then again, I can't help it, I'm survivor of rock bottom, optimism keeps me going.
As for her, I hope she finds the man her mother wants her to get married to. Pity she will always live in the shadow of her mother's superficialities. Such a waste of a beautiful soul and amazing human being. Brings me tears to write that last line. I have tried to set her free, but my best wasn't good enough, I hope she finds her way. I hope I have shown her a way. I hope she finds the happiness she is looking for. I will always look up to her and adore her the way I always have. Time to time, my phone rings and I hear Marvin Gaye's voice and I'm taken back to that day at Coco where it all happen.
As for me, I go back to Galle a broken man. A homeless bastard soldier of fortune bleeding from the place his heart used to be. This love has cost me much, in health and work. So much for all those off days I took to help with a college assignment. So much to pick up than just the pen. But this ordeal has thought me much - I really have nothing to live for. I once had ideals, dreams and hopes. I wanted to change things, fight for the wronged, feed the hungry, run around making people happy and solving their problems. What am I, Mary fucking Poppins?! You have to solve your own problems before you help another.
Maybe then I am the problem. Maybe then I wasn't meant to fight all those odds. Maybe I wasn't miraculously supposed to fight the abortion. Life would be much simpler. I don't know what I'm going to do. The pain keeps getting stronger and everything else just keeps growing weaker. Nevertheless, I've been set free from hoping, shown a life worth not coping. I will just crawl into my hammock and hope it takes..wait a minute. The answer was always been before my eyes. The sea. This is probably the reason I never learnt how to swim. The time will come son when you know what you have to do.
Veni Vidi Failed
Those were some perfect days, she kept me hanging on
But like all things good, it can't keep going on and on
The end comes even to the best of us all
All you can do is comfort yourself and stand tall
You did everything you could and know you always will
One day maybe, reward will come, that day till
Just believe in yesterday
My faith will always be in fate. Que Sera Sera, they say whatever will be, will be. I still love her, her happiness mine, if this is what makes her happy, why should I try to change it. Some days in this greater scheme of things, you're a crucial piece on the board and other days, you're a dispensable pawn. It is one of the cruelly revealing truths of life, never take anything for granted and never expect out of something you can't control. I made the mistake of forgetting that and so the price I paid for the sandcastles we made next to the sea of reality.
The price is heavy and after all I've done, I don't think I deserve to pay this price. 5 meals and counting that I've skipped because I have no appetite, the depression in my head is almost tangible and pressing against my brain causing a unending headache and ringing in my ears that never stops and gives me no sleep. The angina's set in like tremors and aftershocks, wish someone could something about at least that. But oh well David, this is the price you pay for everyday that you spent dreaming. Then again, I can't help it, I'm survivor of rock bottom, optimism keeps me going.
As for her, I hope she finds the man her mother wants her to get married to. Pity she will always live in the shadow of her mother's superficialities. Such a waste of a beautiful soul and amazing human being. Brings me tears to write that last line. I have tried to set her free, but my best wasn't good enough, I hope she finds her way. I hope I have shown her a way. I hope she finds the happiness she is looking for. I will always look up to her and adore her the way I always have. Time to time, my phone rings and I hear Marvin Gaye's voice and I'm taken back to that day at Coco where it all happen.
As for me, I go back to Galle a broken man. A homeless bastard soldier of fortune bleeding from the place his heart used to be. This love has cost me much, in health and work. So much for all those off days I took to help with a college assignment. So much to pick up than just the pen. But this ordeal has thought me much - I really have nothing to live for. I once had ideals, dreams and hopes. I wanted to change things, fight for the wronged, feed the hungry, run around making people happy and solving their problems. What am I, Mary fucking Poppins?! You have to solve your own problems before you help another.
Maybe then I am the problem. Maybe then I wasn't meant to fight all those odds. Maybe I wasn't miraculously supposed to fight the abortion. Life would be much simpler. I don't know what I'm going to do. The pain keeps getting stronger and everything else just keeps growing weaker. Nevertheless, I've been set free from hoping, shown a life worth not coping. I will just crawl into my hammock and hope it takes..wait a minute. The answer was always been before my eyes. The sea. This is probably the reason I never learnt how to swim. The time will come son when you know what you have to do.
Veni Vidi Failed
Those were some perfect days, she kept me hanging on
But like all things good, it can't keep going on and on
The end comes even to the best of us all
All you can do is comfort yourself and stand tall
You did everything you could and know you always will
One day maybe, reward will come, that day till
Just believe in yesterday
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
The End
The end is coming. I can feel it, every cell in my body. Like weary Nazi soldiers awaiting the inevitable last coming of the Russian forces. Judgement Day beckons. In this life I have loved and lost. Lost more actually, and if there was anything I've ever gained, it was things I don't deserve. So many things I don't deserve, when all I did was set out on a journey of humanity to spread happiness. But an important lesson I've learned from this is - stop lending your happiness to others, they're just going to run away with it. But it's a vicious cycle. I've had enough. Dad once said "lets go out and prove that nice guys don't finish last". Sorry Dad, that's left for someone else to prove.
I don't know how people can be so heartless sometimes, but then again, that wonder is an unending one. A question with no answer. But I've had enough, I'm not going to put up with this. The clouds of depression race in over my head and the veins in my eyes strike red like lightning and my heart's hurt beats as loud as thunder. The winds of uncertainty blow across as the voice of destiny plays its siren song. It's beautiful hum, the sound of the end. Funny how one of the books I'm working on now as actually called 'Becoming'. Well I'm not going to stand for what's becoming in my life. Yet again I'm taken on a flying carpet, used and discarded in a desert of loneliness.
I thought for a moment there, it was different. Oh well, I have myself to blame for expecting. But I'm done expecting, hoping, helping, caring, loving, liking, giving a flying fuck. The end is coming, the music gets louder as everything else numbs. The end is in the air tonight, come get me motherfucker, I don't care how anymore
I don't know how people can be so heartless sometimes, but then again, that wonder is an unending one. A question with no answer. But I've had enough, I'm not going to put up with this. The clouds of depression race in over my head and the veins in my eyes strike red like lightning and my heart's hurt beats as loud as thunder. The winds of uncertainty blow across as the voice of destiny plays its siren song. It's beautiful hum, the sound of the end. Funny how one of the books I'm working on now as actually called 'Becoming'. Well I'm not going to stand for what's becoming in my life. Yet again I'm taken on a flying carpet, used and discarded in a desert of loneliness.
I thought for a moment there, it was different. Oh well, I have myself to blame for expecting. But I'm done expecting, hoping, helping, caring, loving, liking, giving a flying fuck. The end is coming, the music gets louder as everything else numbs. The end is in the air tonight, come get me motherfucker, I don't care how anymore
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
I want to die in my sleep
Looking at the varied other methods to exit the world in terms of suicide; most of the methods are messy. The most glamorous of course being ODing on drugs and dying of asphyxiation, not a very pretty way to be found lying in your couch covered in blood and puke with your eyes reaching for the stars while your soul hangs from the rafters above watching the people who loved you, or at least you loved trying to resuscitate you without success. But the catch there is that it only works if you were 27 like Hendrix and Cobain, Forever 27 you will remain they will most likely carve on your tombstone. Choke when you're anything but 27 and you're labelled a junkie. Good thing about it though is that there is no room for uncertainty, once you snort that shit or shoot up, there is no turning back, the merchants of death begin their work and there ain't no stopping them.
Slitting your wrists I suppose is the most common way to go, but that too is messy, bloody messy and your body's defense mechanisms and life preservation systems kick in and Vito your will to die. I've tried it and many a time, I'm left with nothing but an incision, a bloody razor, a lot of explaining to do on how I accidentally cut it while getting off a bus and having to live with myself thinking I was too pussy to die. But using a drowsing agent does help, like maybe overdoing a lot of Panadol. That shit numbs your senses, drops your reflexes and stirs your brain and perception of time leaving you in a daze but most often than not your earlier said mechanisms and systems can kick in and Vito it and make you drag your ass to the doctor and that too leaves a lot of explaining to do and they're probably going to recommend you to go see a shrink, keep you under surveillance or worse, enroll you in a help group, fuck!
It is sort of the same scenario when it comes to asphyxiation via hanging. Pretty old school method and can be efficient if you do it right but then again there is the chance of those earlier said mechanisms coming into play causing you to force your way out of the predicament and in the process damaging other body parts and ending up with a strained neck or damage to the connection between your tongue and your larynx and throat and fuck! that hurts like a bitch even years later, it's like a cramp at the top of your throat that leaves you in pain, immobile and speechless for a minute or two, not handy if you lived past dying and on a date with another person might eventually try the same thing again. Plus this is also a really ugly way of dying because the moment that noose pulls upwards you feel your eyes bulging and trying to shoot out through the roof like a flare saying "help! this crazy mafucker tryna' kill himself". So being found dangling from the rafters with your eyes popped out while your lifeless body waves about in the breeze of the cold November rain, life blown out like a candle in the wind - yes, not too pretty.
In much the same way, there's a million ways to die, in fact, there is a whole book in talking about it but if only I had the time. I think dying in my sleep is how I would want to go, or maybe even donating organs to my mum who deserves their services more than I do. But I wish I knew how to do it - they say where there's a will, there is a way, so if I will hard enough can I really die in my sleep? If only that were the case. No hurt or damage to my face, wearing a smile that forever stays, no one to question if I had suicidal ways. After all, no one cares anyway, and even if they do, there is no reason to complain, those who really care will realize I have come to journey's end, to the place where it all began, dust to dust, where I don't have to suffer the cost of living or bare the pains of loving. Perhaps I will be missed, perhaps I won't, too bad I've driven off everyone who'd come and say don't. No more yearning or discerning, just a young life lived and lost to world of careless dreams and wastes years full of screams, long days and dark nights where comfort has come only through the voices and instruments of those who dared to dream, all hail the Gods of metal. Life is a choice in which the only assurance is death, the get out of jail card, take it or not, the question returns after many years, make me ponder and wonder in the sound of silence.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
I'm on way
So it seems that like all things in my life; the good comes and goes before you can get used to it; like Cobain said, there's something in the way. I'm on the long road again, walking along with my backpack of hope, regrets and dreams searching for a home, walking towards the end of days on the edge of civilization. My shadow, the only one whose never left me over the years disappear as the clouds of depression set in. Home I think is beyond this world for me, I want to go there, may the rains of redemption come drown me, take me across; this life has too many crosses to bare, maybe I won't wait for the rains, it's getting dark...too dark to see...
Sunday, March 6, 2011
When you reach where you're supposed
I think I've reached a place where I was supposed to reach, don't know where that is, but I can feel it. This is not to say I reached my life's destination or the place where I will be forever, but I have reached somewhere. Waking up way too early in the morning feels so normal, the world turns a bit slower but life moves faster and I can live with the man in the mirror but more importantly I can look into the eyes of people who care and say, hey I'm trying, almost there, I'm on my way, home sweet home.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
When the lights fade
When the lights fade; the people go home, the attention goes to sleep and you're left with nothing but a bottle of scotch and regrets. Like now, I'm left with no one, my mum is leaving me, my boss is my boss, her kids and life will always come to her first, I don't even consider my siblings as siblings and after all I've done for people, what am I left with? Fuck all actually.
One days everyone, every 'friend' will be with someone, what you had, years, months of a connection changes in nan instant, makes you wonder, is time better spent helping another life, or trying to take your own. I'm so depressed that even my eyes refused to open fully. I'm sick of this, I've never done anything but help people, yet I remain where I was, alone. Giving up is the easiest option, hope I don't get through this night, don't really want to take more of this.
One days everyone, every 'friend' will be with someone, what you had, years, months of a connection changes in nan instant, makes you wonder, is time better spent helping another life, or trying to take your own. I'm so depressed that even my eyes refused to open fully. I'm sick of this, I've never done anything but help people, yet I remain where I was, alone. Giving up is the easiest option, hope I don't get through this night, don't really want to take more of this.
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