yes, you are right, i should like to hide my head in the sand and pretend all that darkness is nothing but light shining through a filter tinted the colour of night. i should pretend last night never happened, i should pretend i am content here by your side in the leafy undergrowth of life where all i see are roots uprooted, dying in the sun. and would you blame me?
i could not sleep last night, thinking of the shining lights enveloping you, pillow over my head to drown out hurt. i wondered if i ought to watch a film, but that would be defeat. no, i would lay here and count your wrongs, my wrongs, the cracks in the ceiling of our hearts, thoughts, lives.
soon, soon, the artery would rupture and drown out the pain.
soon, soon.
i knew i couldn’t cut myself. what with? a knife? i could almost hear you saying don’t be silly in that tone of yours. and pills, what good would it do? only that i may die without salvation, without the knowledge of how to cling to love by the skin of your fingertips. or maybe i know that already.
and i can’t live with all that poison, not even just for tonight. i would fight but my limbs have gone to sleep and i am faced with a picture of you in the club, music pounding, drinks flowing, girls dancing.
and i realise i can’t say that there is anything missing. there is not.
Posted in chapters of my life
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i only stop when i know i’ve had enough.
i guess i haven’t had my fill just yet.
you’ve gone to france, as you always do. your second life, i call it, but i dont blame you: that’s what a lifetime of living with parents who are teachers does to you. four weeks this time; it’ll be five the next or six, or whatever. but i’ve stopped counting the days. i learnt to live without salting my wounds.
Y went camping with his blonde, though she’s not blonde now but rather a seductive red. they’ve been together months now. it’ll be a year soon. october, i think.
he was meant to come back yesterday, but his phone was off. i called him twice. twice is always my limit.
i know i’ll call him again.
X is just an ex. we speak sporadically on msn and i’ve not been on the computer for days. i just couldn’t face the lonely screen staring in my face. i wanted physical contact, the sound of someone’s, anyone’s voice reverbrating in my eardrums.
and i read books. sartre, “streetcar named desire” and anais nin with her erotica. that put me down, but then, i wanted to be put down. sometimes there comes a point in our lives when we can no longer continue to believe in what we are believing until we see what else there is to see.
then there was Z. another reunion. he called me just now. for no reason. he didn’t say so, but then he rarely says a lot. he’s coming back from wales today. he was away for a week, but what more is there to it? it was another failed lesson in love for him, but i know i’m not the one to teach him.
in the end of all ends, i love you.
and i met your ex too on the days. that was fun. hurt me like crazy but it had to be done.
somewhere in between “the spy in the house of love” and “the age of reason”, i’d lost my wits. literature has a way of doing that to you.
i needed to see her.
i needed to feel the arterial spray of your past on my face.
let her do her worst i thought and damn, she tried her best.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged again, age, always, anais nin, another, anyone, arterial spray, away, back, been, believe, best, between, blame, blonde, books, call, camp, camping, come, computer, contact, counting, crazy, days, do, doing, done, down, eardrums, end, ends, enough, ex, face, failed, feel, fill, five, for, four, france, fun, gonef, guess, had, haven't, him, his, house, hurt, it, just, know, learnt, lesson, life, lifetime, limit, literature, live, lives, living, lonely, lost, lot, love, meant, met, months, more, msn, named desire, needed, next, no, not, now, october, of, off, only, parents, past, phone, physical, point, put, rarely, rather, read, reason, red, reunion, reverbrating, salting, sartre, says, screen, second, seductive, see, six, someone, sometimes, somewhere, soon, sound, speak, sporadically, spy, staring, stop, stopped, streetcar, teach, teachers, think, this, though, time, today, together, tried, twice, until, voice, wales, want, way, week, weeks, went, whatever, when, without, wits, worst, wounds, x, y, year, yesterday, yet, you, z
half my life, i’m freefalling, the other half – looking back on the sights i’ve seen in those few moments before my parachute opened, before the maddening rush of adrenaline was curbed by my safety net, the soft fabric above me saving me.
you are that fabric – the fabric of my life spun by the yarn of your love, by the generosity of those hands turning the spindle.
all because you feel responsible for me. or maybe not.
in the end, my life’s my life: a merger of past faces, names, soft hands that once caressed my skin or longed to do so.
and you.
the thread of you’s the thread of me. and i want everyone you know to love me, unbearably, exquisitely so that you know the worth of love. so that you can count broken smiles knowing something inside them breaks for me.
an only child, i knew how to be painfully selfish. i learnt it well, my only teacher – solitude and parents’ love. but here i am, sister in tow, and still that only child rhetoric lives on in me. so once in a while, i feel in need of broken dreams of others to see my hope reflected in those pieces of looking-glass.
and if you can’t blame me who can blame me?
my friend once told me i was cruel to boys, to men, male counterparts. that i was cruel because my skattered gazes never solidified, my touch was soft but vapid, my hands gentle but uncaring. so what? i said it’s my revenge.
and so it is.
as sweet as lemon sorbet melting on my lips.
Posted in chapters of my life
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sleepless night. blurring horizons. stars dancing in front of the eyes.
last night wasn’t good. it was almost entirely awful. a stomach bug my sister had had found its way into my system and was reluctant to leave. a virus no doubt, fighting for its survival and i couldn’t blame it.
bleary-eyed and throughly exhausted, i couldn’t blame it, because we’re all viruses in some respect, finding shreds to cling to, hopes we know will never come true and yet we still long for, impossible dreams, people we don’t love, places we don’t want to stay in.
we cling to the most peculiar things, thoughts, memories just to have something grounding us in this volatile world.
and so here’s me clinging to you, making you come round my house after you return from a day of hard work, hard study, just so that i can look into the vast expanse of your blue eyes, my hair uncombed, in my bed in my pyjamas, blacking out, hands shaking and still feel wanted right down to my very core.
can i kiss you on your forehead, at least? you ask and i protest, though to be in your arms is what i want, yearn for, almost need.
i don’t want to infect you.
i don’t want you to feel like i’m feeling right now because that would make things so much more difficult, don’t you understand?
there always has to be a virus and a host.
Posted in chapters of my life
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some days are just rubbish.
no way of getting round it. no way of changing that fact.
today was one of those days.
when you wake up in the morning, what do you think? do you think of the days having gone past or do you look to the future? do you make a wish? just a little one, maybe. like, i wish my train runs on time today or i wish this cold doesn’t get any worse.
i did all of that this morning and still, still i couldn’t prevent the day being a failure. like a snowflake melting halfway down on its journey from the sky ot the ground.
no amount of good-luck actions would have changed that, i think.
it’s all written in the stars, no?
it was W this time. he’s so important that i’ve never even mentioned him before now, but hey, you live and learn, right?
he went and told the superiors that i was bullying him. last time i checked, caring about what one has to say, always asking one if he’s alright (genuinely concerned, because he did seem depressed lately), making jokey, playful remarks is NOT bullying.
but hey, you live and learn, right?
that hurt me.
i don’t know what to say. he was my friend and he turned against me, making accusations our mutual friends were shocked to hear. that i, yself, was shocked to hear.
but why would he make up something like that?
oh, this is a good one. listen to this, right – the superior was telling him off, so he figured… shift the blame on someone else. tell them he was having a tough time of it all and i was making it worse.
i wish he’d tell me how being friendly is making it worse.
but his excuse for saying that to the superior is the best. it’s not really much of an excuse at all: he didn’t think she’d tell me.
i guess he just didn’t think.
but he was right:
she didn’t tell me. she screamed right at me how unacceptable bullying was, how i should be ashamed, how i’m a disappointment.
the list goes on.
and is that something a friend would do? i don’t think so, somehow.
i cried today. more than once. i couldn’t believe it.
call me naive, but i thought that W was my friend. i liked him a lot. he was my train buddy.
how stupid of me.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged accusations, believe, best, blame, boy, bullying, care, change, cried, days, depressed, fabricate, failure, friend, future, girl, good, hurt, important, jokey, journey, learn, life, live, luck, morning, my friend, my life, past, playful, relationships, rubbish, scream, shock, snowflake, stars, stupid, superior, tell, think, thoughts, today, train buddy, unacceptable, wake up, wish, worse, writing, written
glittering soot on her eyelashes 