In a dark fictitious mood II

I had a dream... I saw myself seated at a park bench beside you. You had your hand wrapped in mine... We were gazing at the same direction, painting pictures in the sky with captions under it which read "someday." I smiled to myself thinking that nothing can be as perfect as now, not when the moon is there to light our way and the stars to grant our wishes...

And then suddenly a strong wind came blowing through, shattering the dreams we carefully painted in the night sky... I turned towards you for a hug to relieve me of the pain we just went through... I closed my eyes reached out and realized that I was hugging myself and that you were no longer there beside me...

I looked around trying to catch a glimpse of your face... But the darkness has engulfed everything out of my sight... I didn't want to leave our bench, afraid that if I do you won't be able to find your way back home... And so I sat there, gazing at our moon... no stars in sight to grant my wish for your return...

I picked broken pieces of the dreams we made and tried to put it back as if its a puzzle... There were missing pieces which I know you have with you... And so I patiently wait for your return; to once again complete our night sky of dreams to be fulfilled someday...

The wind did not destroy anything... It just created a space, for us to breathe. a part.. a gap that we will once again be filled by songs of togetherness... I can feel your presence nearby... Don't stray too far but if you must ;whisper a farewell to the wind which will take me away to my new journey...

But I am still hoping that we'll meet back in this bench to fulfill our promises, dear keeper of my soul...

In a dark fictitious mood...

If Jane dies, you would not even notice it.

You'd think that she just went out for a long walk to clear her chaotic overly psychotic mind. And so you won't even bother to look for her, not wanting to disturb whatever it is that is keeping you on a roll night and day. You'd just sit and continue doing the usual things you do, all at the same time.

Maybe you'd wait a little for her to return since you think she always come back when her angst or mood swings have been absorbed by others. You then go back to your priorities and during this time you forgot her absence.

Maybe you thought that's the way it is with Jane right? And so you let things pass like those promises you failed to keep. She is bound to come back, you felt so sure about it. Of course, you wouldn't want to be bothered by these dramas right?

Would it take you days, weeks or even months to realize that your so called Jane is no longer there beside you? Would you even care? Would you shed a tear or just sigh and go back to what you were doing before...

You never really saw how little by little she died inside did you? You only saw how difficult she could be at times and its not helping you at all... How can you be bothered when you have your whole life ahead of you, right? But did you try to look beyond her words? her actions? the silence you dislike so much?

All this time you thought she wll always be at your side, waiting for you to be finished. Then again, when one gets finished, two more things need to be done, and so the waiting begins again like a never ending cycle... You thought it was a permanent thing didn't you? Well it wasn't... Now you would realized that what you two had was something you can not fnd again... You had your chance and you let it slip away.

And so in your heart you know Jane will not leave you, she just went out that's all...

But you don't have to worry about Jane anymore... You won't be bothered by her complexities from now on. And no, you don't have to start looking for her now. It would be pointless.

She is dead.
And so are you.

the pain of deep contemplation...

The question "What have I done wrong?" always comes to mind... Without finding an answer to my own question, tears usually build up but easily get squinted out of the way before anybody sees it, call it pride but being called a crybaby is such a pity... Sleepless nights do not do any good to a down-trodden soul because the following day despite the sunny day; black circles are visible from a far and the throbbing in the brain just won't go away... banging one's head won't do any good because its not physical, its far more deeper than that...

Somethings in life seems to be so unpredictable and just beyond our control. Even if we do our darnest to make things right, everything still seems to go wrong... For a control freak who has given up and let go and let fate takes it course, the feeling of helplessness does not go away at all... Constant worrying and discerning seem to be the road always taken and usually during midnight towards dawn...

Some nights you just want to go to sleep and not think at all... but the weary soul refuses to go into numb mode... it keeps on thinking, trying to find answers, trying to come to terms with the changes of the times or are they really changes to begin with... was it not there in the first place but you just refused to acknowledge these things? It was so easy to look beyond it when it all began but now the dilemma is rushing towards you big time, the pain just won't go away... and all you can do is stand there, look dumbfounded and ask yourself "Where did I go wrong?"

and so you get washed away by the tide, leaving you in the shores of broken dreams and empty promises...

Amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non ponitur

The most important things are the hardest to say, because words diminish them.

~Stephen King

Tonight I Can Write
by Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.

'The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.

I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.

How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

To think that I do not have her.
To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing.
In the distance. My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

Going through hell...

If you're going through hell, keep going.

-Winston Churchill

On Suffering

-->H.H. the Dalai Lama:
The basic thing is that everyone wants happiness, no one wants suffering. And happiness mainly comes from our own attitude, rather than from external factors. If your own mental attitude is correct, even if you remain in a hostile atmosphere, you feel happy.

ERGO: My mental attitude is wrong and my state in unsound.


Hermann Hesse:
You know quite well, deep within you, that there is only a single magic, a single power, a single salvation...and that is called loving. Well, then, love your suffering. Do not resist it, do not flee from it. It is your aversion that hurts, nothing else.


ERGO: I'd better start loving the things that make me suffer, starting with myself.


Simone Weil:
The capacity to give one's attention to a sufferer is a very rare and difficult thing; it is almost a miracle; it is a miracle.

ERGO: Value the people who understand your suffering even when you hide it in silence and fake laughter.


Victor Frankl:
We can discover this meaning in life in three different ways: (1) by doing a deed; (2) by experiencing a value; and (3) by suffering.

ERGO: We will never stop suffering, its a cycle... either cope or die...


Wallace Stegner:
Most things break, including hearts. The lessons of life amount not to wisdom, but to scar tissue and callus.

ERGO: If you are still bleeding and the scars just own't heal either you have not suffered enough or you have not learned your lesson.