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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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