Heartache

I remember the times we had,
I spent most of those times together with you,
Shed tears, wept my sweat,
Laughed my utmost humour out,
Smiled, smirked, farted,
Those months, those days,
Those special moments,
Passed us by so fast,
Well for me, at least, it did.


I know I may act before thinking,
I know how sensible and mature you are at controlling your emotions,
Yes you have build yourself a sort of defence mechanism that only you hold of the remote control,
But, I,
I am mere human being,
Be it the fact that it takes effort to bring me down,
Be it the fact that how much objections are thrown at me yet I pull through,
Be it the fact that no matter how many times I fall,
I know exactly how to stand up again,
But the journey to actually stand up again honey,
I need you,
A place to pour my sorrows out, I need a mattress I can befall on,
An assurance of a safety net before I decide to make that suicidal jump,
All in all Mahaad, I need you.


Since you have made that gap between you and I the moment you chose to say that I was not equipped with enough maturity,
Since then have I decided to cut of that very safety net,
Burn that very mattress that was my comfort every single night before bed,
To let you go from my heart and soul,
To fire you from being the captain that directs when I'm lost at sea,
You have left me no choice,
Dishearteningly and unwillingly take you from the very thing I turn to when I've left no other way.


I loved you, honey.
I always did.
As a friend, as a lover, as a wife,
Thank you for being there when I needed someone.

Dear God

Dear God,
If you're out there,
I really do hope you're listening.

Why is it that things cannot be simpler?
Why must everything be in such complication?
Why can't it be A or B?
Why can't it be just black or white?

Dear God,

If you're out there,

I really do hope you're listening.

Why are people so difficult to be with?
Why is it that it is not obvious we do not live forever and we just have this one life?
Why can't people just be honest and direct?
Why must there always be a game to play?

Dear God,

If you're out there,

I really do hope you're listening.

Why is it that I am always the one left out?
Why is it alright to take advantage of Jane?

Why is it that I am always the one hurt?

Why is it that I am always the one cheated?

Why is it that I am always just another one on the list?

Why is it that I am always misinterpreted?

Why am I the one hurting my loved ones?

Why, Oh Why, Dear God, why?

Dear God,

If you're out there,

I really do hope you're listening.

It hurts.

It hurts really bad.

It is broken, really bad this time.

I cannot take the pain no more.

It is too much to handle, to hurtful to handle.

I am really heartbroken, Oh God.

Dear God,

If you're out there,

I really do hope you're listening.

It's 2.45 am and I can't sleep.

My eyes hurt really bad, they can't close.

My head is spinning so fast, it hurts.

I might be getting a slight temperature.

Dear God,

If you're out there,

I really do hope you're listening.

I have never asked anything of you.

Not that I remember of in the past 4 years that we have not spoken.

Even if I did, I would have asked on behalf for another's well being.

But, this time, if you really exist, I need your help.

Just for this time, I need.......I need, your spiritual guidance.

Dear God,

If you're out there,

I really do hope you're listening.

I may not know everything, heck I may not need to know everything at this age,

But, sometimes I lose my way, and I need guidance on to the right path,

I need the spirit to guide me, Dear Lord,

I need comfort, I need warmth, I need guidance,

I cannot take another heart break,

I cannot manage another heart break.

Dear God,

If you're out there,

I really do hope you're listening.

When life strikes me,

I tumble, at times, just fall drastically,

Hurting every senses in me,

Breaking every one of my bones,

And it takes sometime for me to stand and climb right back up,

But when I do, and I look down, it actually was not quite far that I fell off.

Dear God,

If you're out there,

I really do hope you're listening.

I feel so much better now,

I feel a burden is lifted off my shoulder,

I feel this hurt in my chest is fading drastically,

I feel so much warmth.

Dear God,

If you're out there,

I really do hope you're listening.

You're a real good listener,

I'm sorry for losing contact with you, but I don't regret it,

It was just an experience I needed to have to appreciate it when it was gone,

I am almost insignificant here on earth,

If not significant, I hope, I really do hope, you at least realise that I exist,

I know I will never reach your good books, I don't expect to come anywhere near,

But, I just hope you do know that I exist and my feelings count,

If not for anyone, at least to you.

Amen.

Knock knock, anyone there?

*type*

www.facebook.com

*type*

luciferassistant@live.com

*homepage*

EA Sports Fifa Superstars Photos
Likes Bluedrive and 3 other pages
Video of Richard Cheese rendition of Beat It

*scroll*

*scroll*

*scroll*

*scroll*

(ah, chat box)

22 available

*click*

Only then did it hit me. I may have 22, or even 150 friends online, but no one I can really talk to.

The beat of the music in the Phuture room kept banging in my ear. The dense atmosphere was getting at me, suffocating my breath. The temperature was rising, wetting every part of my body. Just then, I saw him just standing there, staring at me. I felt so intrigued to go over and hold him in my arms, smell him, and play with his bald head. I wanted to lose myself with him and just pretend its our last night ever here. Just to dance the art of making love and feel him, feeling me.

Should I? Oh maybe not, I might offend this guy. Yeah, probably I will just stay here. Oh no wait, what the fuck am I thinking? I can do whatever I want, man. You know what? You're doing this, get your ass there and do your thing.

So, I did. I looked into his eyes, and told him that he is mine for now. I went over and held him by his neck, one hand on his left shoulder, and moved my hips to the sound of Rihanna's Only Girl in the World. I pulled his hand to grab hold of my hip, synchronising with me. Embracing his aura, I placed my head on his shoulder, feeling every move of his muscles. Gosh....I was in trance with him. Just the remedy I needed.

I Don't Know

So, it was Women's Day. Least of my concerns as half of my focus and attention were on revising my syllabus and grasping as much as possible. And it can come as a sudden shock and out of the circle of common sense when some "concerned" individuals, or as they self proclaim that they are, can find the perfect timing for making a U-turn. Or take a step back, or whatever you may call it, and with a snap of their fingers pretend like nothing ever happened and start afresh. It would seem so subtly promiscuous, when you only come to find the dagger which was once hiding behind the door is now coming right at you, striking you, stab after stab after stab after stab....


Maybe I was too harsh? Maybe I had to accept it and pretend the way it was before? Maybe I should now lick my wounds, don't deny I have not been doing that, ignore the scar, and walk on the coals of fire again? Maybe I should create extra layers of skin and make do with whatever that is left of the walking dead body? Or maybe I should lose my soul and surrender to blows of abuse and tantrums?


Or probably I did the right thing? Probably for once, I acted the way I should have, a very long time ago? Probably, I am tired of licking my wounds and I cannot ignore any scars? Probably, I don't want to fear anymore? Probably, I just don't want to feel pain and grip my teeth to adhere to others needs? Probably, I just want to be with people who respect me for the way I am, and not bloodsuckers? Probably, I had enough of being thrown to the wall and covered with an old bed sheet, ashamed to be shown to the world? Or  probably, I just said what I had to say?


The smoke of Marlboro Black Menthol cools my throat, drying it, making it want more. Feet pounds on the steps of the staircase, "Think! What do you want?" Mind responds, "I don't know" So, I don't know. I just know that I've got another one year, well if I need not refer any papers, and that will be about the same sickening drama I have been encountering. Then it's off to business life and that is when the REAL drama gets into the picture. Till then, suit up and dress to kill!

Choose

Is my tank full? Prolly I need to pee. Wait, I didn't have dinner. Am I hungry? Maybe I need to take a break. My fingers are aching, I feel my body aching and getting heavier. Eminem's Lose Yourself is ringing at the back of my mind. The ghost from the past is haunting again, erupting old regretful, spiteful emotions. Images of chairs thrown against the wall and endless days of tears and sadness to balls of hair being forced out into thin air. Blank sheets of paper lay beside me, with words scribbled all over and a pen left idle on top of the stack. It seems to me like a collection of sheets of contagious disease that I'm trying not to even look at. Because if I do, I will be infected.

Locking myself into this 4 wall chamber, is getting at me now. Not enough of the physical prison I've imposed myself into, invasion of privacy is stealing the bits of consciousness left in me. I dread looking at stationery. I wail at the sight of books. I sob at the thought of studying. I just want to run. Runaway, from beings, lies, back to yesterday, save tonight...I feel the sun creeping out like tik tok, I'm trying to keep you in my head but if not, just keep running from tomorrow as our lips lock...DAMN! SEE? A rhythm for every worry, a song for every problem, a voice of melody embraces the negative thoughts....when it shouldn't!

Munching my way around Kit Kat Chunky, the sweetness of the milky chocolate takes me to this paradise of endless joy and contentment. The sound of the packet opening, intrigues me to want more. I want more of you....more...more....and more. Till the last bite and the milky chocolate that tastes like paradise, dissolves in my mouth, that last excitement, brings me back to earth, to this same rotten 4 wall chamber, finding my way through the contagious disease. Should I avoid it like how I've always been doing, or embrace it to be infected and survive the consequences?

Grief

Grief floats in the air,
Grief is molecules in H2O,
Grief is in every child's eyes,
Grief hides behind every sorrowful soul.

But, grief comes looking for its victim,
Every once in a while,
To torture and steal one's soul,
And leave the desecrated carcass to rot.

Grief comes in forms of video,
Where poodles are slapped and slammed against the door,
To make them stand on 2 feet?
Where researches are conducted,
On the sexual intimacy of a dog and a woman?

Grief also comes in forms of connection,
Where space is made for men and women to interact,
To discuss on what position is best with a horse and with their own child?
Where goods are made accessible online to everyone,
To torture each other in the excuse of satisfaction of pain?

So, does it ever end?
Does grief ever have a full stop?
Will perfection be impossible to achieve?
And being imperfect is the latest normality?
How extreme is imperfect to be accepted as normal?

I need answers.

You Think You Know? Think Again.

You think you know someone,
When that someone turns his back on you.

You think you know someone,
When that someone dashes into your space and tarnishes your image.

You think you know someone,
When that someone bursts out in grief and blames you for it.

You think you know someone,
When that someone feels embarrassed to be with you around his "buddies".

You think you know someone,
When that someone shuts you up and tells you what to say and when to say it.

You think you know someone,
When that someone adopts your words and use it for the wrong reasons.

You think you know someone,
When that someone makes up stories and gets you into trouble for the sake of attention.

You think you know someone,
When that someone chooses to be oblivious to your good intentions.

You think you know someone,
When that someone just wants to get into your pants.

You think you know someone,
When that someone looks directly into your eyes,
And with all empathy and sarcasm,
Lies to your fucking face.

THINK AGAIN.