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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.