Rain again today. The grandfather clock chimed three times.

All was quiet save for the raindrops falling upon the cottage roof.
~~~
It's fully sunken in. I am finally able to step back and see everything. You're gone... never to return. I'll never see your adorable self or hear you anymore. I am truly alone now. I've lost the only, only one that I can trust and tell everything to. There is no one left I can turn to... no one that's always happy to see me. You've been there for me all throughout my life. When they argued and fought, you were there by my side.  You were the only one that I wasn't afraid to cry to. You were my light in this dark twisted world. Now, I am blind. This darkness is eating me up once more. Every day of existence is torture... I plaster on a happy facade, fooling the rest of the world. But what for? So as not too appear weak?

Alas, I wonder... if I could just have a single day of happiness... where I could forget everything. The past... my worries... everything.... I would give up everything for that day.

"One... two... three... " He counted to himself as he stared out the rain drenched window.

Closing his eyes, he could hear the creaking of the trees battling the rough winds.

The crackling fireplace warmed his cold hands and feet whilst giving the cozy living room a faint orange glow.

Today is a dull day with nothing to do but counting the countless droplets falling from the crying clouds.
...
I am lost without a map, with no means of returning.

hmm... it didn't really sink in during the first few days. but, now i can feel it. that loneliness. it's really killing me on the inside. sadly, nothing will really fill the void... i miss him so damn much. he was truly the only one whom i can trust and tell my deepest thoughts to... since he'll never tell a soul. and now he's probably playing fetch with socrates or euthyphro. alas... if tears were steps to heaven and love, my guide, i would take you back home...

Listlessly falling helplessly.

Autumn leaves shower the ground, forming a carpet of golds, reds, and yellows. Once vibrant branches, now barren.

He took a deep breath. His nostrils were met by the sting of the early morning air that whispered of the fast approaching winter.

The chickadees sing their sweet morning melody, rousing him from the remnants of sleep's enchantment.

Dawn is breaking.

~~~
I wonder, sometimes, if I am right in thinking that all it takes to free myself of this self-suppressing cycle of masochism was letting go of the past. I have made countless attempts, yet all of them result in failure. Perhaps, it is time I went back to the drawing board and devise a new plan. Maybe, I need to add to it. Perhaps, I have to confront the past in order to be able to let it go. So far, all I have done is push it all deep into the bowels of my mind. Not the best of solutions. If only... if only there was a way. I grow weary of fighting this fight over and over again. I am... truly tired, physically and mentally. I wish I could just wake up one day and be free of this burden. To just forget it all. But, alas, that will never be possible. And so I must experience this cycle over and over again, until I am able to find a way out of it. Somehow.

Quietly... quietly. The twilight slowly surrendered to the velvet night.

All was quiet in the grassy field. The boy and his parents had soon retreated back to their abode.

The once vibrant colors, now turned a dull colorless grey. Although its colors have been taken away, its beauty remains.

The willow, the slithering stream that whispers in the quiet of the night, the waves of grass, the clusters of sweet-smelling flowers... need not colors to define their beauty.

... for mother moon provides. Her soft silvery glow gives life to the cool dew, the gift of the night, lighting up the crystalline droplets upon them. The darkness wraps them with her smooth silk... a touch of elegance, a touch of grace.

But not tonight. There is only darkness... for mother moon has yet to finish the journey of rebirth.
-
Sometimes, I really wish I could get rid of all my emotions. That way I wouldn't have to feel anger or sorrow. Each time I feel anger or sorrow, it seems as if I am doing something wrong. And each time when I do become annoyed, angry, or sorrowful... I feel as if I am drifting farther and farther away from any hope of redeeming myself. I have become this horrible person, unworthy of forgiveness because there isn't any toleration for experiencing such emotions. That mantra keeps repeating itself, that I am supposed to have full reign of my emotions. I felt, anger because I chose to feel anger and so forth. I should have been able to choose not to feel angry.  Truthfully, I full-heartedly agree with that... and completely going against all that I have learned in many semesters worth of psychology. Though... I do not apply that to anyone else. Only me. Each time those emotions come forth... there seems to be this tiny voice in my head that tells-pounds into me that I am a horrible person and that its pretty sure that if it was so and so he/she wouldn't have gotten angry or sad or anything else. Guh... I don't even know what I'm saying. This is just the source of my own deep hatred for myself. There I said it. I truly... truly despise myself, perhaps more than anyone else out there who hates me. I just can't forgive myself for all the stupid things that I have done in myself. I can't let go. I don't understand why... gah, I hate myself for this too. I just can't stand myself. Why do I have to be so stupid... so ugly... so damn useless... so weak... so lazy, such a disappointment to my family... just so.... a horrible jerk in general. If I could apologize over and over again for being all these things, I truly would. I would accept punishment any type of punishment for becoming what I have become. Hence... I suppose I have found the reason why I cut and started to cut again... having to feel pain and watch myself bleed is the best punishment of all. Words can only hurt me so far... but this, this is something else. Physical pain. It serves as the bridge to atonement. Each cut cleans me of all my faults. It feels so much better... every time I do it. It's like washing heavily soiled hands with soap... that type of freedom, that type of clean.

Alas... it is only here that I can let out all of this crap and I am happy for it.... since this journal has no mouth to tell anyone these wretched thoughts. I am truly thankful to have a place to dump these thoughts to... -____- as I don't have the heart to tell it to a person.

A lovely sunset. How it begs to be touched. Caressed by gentle hands. Yet, it is out of reach.

So out of reach.

And if one does achieve that feat, that one shall indeed perish. Through its alluring beauty, so tempting, one's life is extinguished.

How delicate a life is. It is amusing how the vessel created to protect and guard the human soul is so frail.

The little child lies in the grass beside his mother. A quiet breeze ruffles his golden hair.
---

I am numb. There is nothing more to say. I just have to swallow all the pain and everything will be alright, from the outside. As long as I am capable of putting up a happy, carefree front everything will be fine. Just fine. I won't hurt anyone or instill sorrow upon them. As long as I am able to function... everything will go smoothly. As long as no one can see those rosy kisses. Everything will be okay. As long as everything is taken care of. As long as dinner is made, laundry is done, clothes folded, favors completed, problems solved,... it will be alright.  As long as I am unbroken on the outside. I will be fine. =)

 

"For you!" The little boy exclaimed, thrusting a lopsided paper boat filled with wild daisies at the squatting man.

The man smiled and reached to pat the boy on the head. Though, his fingers barely touched the golden threads as the little boy quickly dashed toward his mother sitting beside the pond.

The man chuckled to himself and shook his head in an amused kind of way. His eyes drifted toward the horizon. The sun was beginning to set. It was twilight already.

He could hear the melodic shouts and laughter from the little boy echoing in the distance.

The glow of the retiring sun graced every surface with a soft sheen of gold.

The man savored this moment... for who knows when a moment so precious as this will grace itself upon him again.

---
Forget it...

Maybe everything will make sense later.

Hurriedly, she ran towards the willow tree. The air was still, save for the minute breezes that occasionally waltzed by. The grass bent beneath her delicate white slippers. Her silver hair danced about upon her shoulders as her skirt flailed against her legs.

A lark's distant cry, broke the stillness.

"You're back..." She breathed.

Time... bringer of joy, bringer of sorrow.

---
There are times when I really wish I that I cannot dream. Or at least, to forget them as quickly as I have them.
It was that stupid dream again... only this time I had to watch you die. I suppose... this doesn't mean anything much, but it still instills a deep sense of fear into me. I do not know why. I really shouldn't allow this to bother me, but I can't. Ever since that day... I can't stop thinking about it... what could have happened? What I should or should not have done... But, ultimately the fault was mine. It was always mine. So, perchance, this is why these dreams came to be. This guilt.

I can protect you from everything and anything... all except for death. Truly, I wish I could protect you from even the hands of death.  If not so, then... I wish to return Home before you, so that I may be spared of that pain. So, that I may welcome you instead. But, alas, I am just being selfish.

I wonder, is happiness temporary? Or is it sorrow that is temporary?

Some say, by nature, we are sorrowful creatures, being ripped away from the life before birth.

The first thing we experience in life is crying. Does that justify that aforementioned sorrowful nature of ours?

I can only speculate that the answer is different for every person. I believe our background--the experiences, acquaintances, and surroundings that have shaped us in our lifetime--is the factor that molds our answer to that query.

If one had been around the block a few times, then their view of happiness and sorrow would differ from one that was not.

If all one knew was sorrow, then it becomes the "base" in their field of emotion. Happiness would be something that comes along once in a while, a temporary experience. Though, if one was brought up in a more joyful environment, then that would be the "base" instead. Happiness would be the norm, whereas sorrow would be something that is temporary.

Of course, by stating that, I have committed the fallacy of two extremes. What about neutrality? And all the other emotions in between. I cannot only address and assume that all we feel is either sorrow or joy. There are many many others out there that must be taken into consideration.

But, I digress. The original query was whether happiness or sorrow was temporary. I suppose, there will never be an actual answer to that--an answer that applies to everyone.

Maybe neither emotions could be temporary. Perhaps, they exist at the same time, counter-balancing each other, ensuring the existence of each. There is no "base" emotion. One can only speculate the possibilities.

To me, happiness will always have that evanescent quality, making it more precious. It is something that I have grown accustomed to. I have become numb to it, in a way. Though twisted as it sounds, I find comfort in sorrow, for it grants me this insight, opening my eyes. I am granted the opportunity to step back from the rest and see everything in a different perspective. It's tantamount to a game of chess, shifting from player to spectator. As a spectator, you see both sides of the game, whereas a player is only limited to one side.

Whether it's a worthy sacrifice I do not know. Blindness for the sake of joy. Sight for the sake of sorrow.

  "Escape to paradise..."
"Find yourself once again in paradise..."

The search for this "paradise" does not know the bounds of time. For as long as humanity has existed, there exists the search for a flawless land of bliss where one can forget their pains and sorrows.

Where there exists stress, pain, despair... a paradise will be sought.

There are many means of escape, be it physical or mental. One may turn to quiet meditation to ease the soul of such emotional burden. Perchance, one may also retreat to music. In a physical sense, one may board the most convenient mode of travel to a place that they deem as paradise... a place away from the thing(s) that is the root of their suffering.

Paradise is a different thing to each person. A place one deems as so, may, perhaps, be a place of torture for others. Each has its unique attributes that makes it the paradise it is to the person.

Yet, that feeling of relief is but temporary... whatever demons that are chasing them, will return.

This idea of escaping from these emotions is welcoming. But, the evanescent quality of this escape makes paradise seem sadistic almost. The place that serves as a sanctuary becoming a place of sorrow, for when the time comes for one to leave that place... the demons will creep back into the consciousness, burdening the soul once more.

Perhaps, we should not depend on things "outside" of us for relief. We should rely on the thing we can depend on most, the one that is always with us regardless... we should rely on ourselves.

It is only if we find those demons that lurk in us, that we may truly "be in paradise." This is tantamount to fighting off a fungal infection. A yeast infection, for an example. Yeast, once inside the body, burrows deep within the tissues because of the way they reproduce. Branches called Hyphae serve as roots, anchoring itself in the tissue... so in order for the yeast cells to bud and reproduce. In order to fully rid of the yeast infection, one must attack the Hyphae, the "roots." If the Hyphae are not destroyed, then the infection will persist. Just as we must seek out the "root" of our reason to seek out paradise.

If we find out what the core of the reason is, then the need for paradise will be obsolete. Since... that paradise will be ourselves, for in actuality, that place already resides in us.

What causes that pain, that despair, is our struggle with our demons. To rid the soul of it... that pain would disappear. The constant battle with them would also cease to exist. There would be peace... and that paradise would be realized. Inner peace, would be a fitting term to describe this.

But, alas, this feat is nearly impossible for it is simply just "easier said than done."

The darkness is almost tangible in the night. The reflection of her soft glow... distorted by the face of the lake.

Her cloak of black velvet fills the sky's void. Small specks of crystal decorates her velvety garb, brought to life by the her light. Silently... slowly she moves flawlessly across the decadent darkness... her decadent dance.

Day after Day she returns to perform her lovely dance. Sometimes with a wispy white veil over her face.

But for what reason?

Alas, to search for her lover... the Sun.

....

.______.; Sometimes I wonder why I still post here. Weird.

The room was silent except for the warm crackling fireplace. Mum and pappy were slumbering on the battered couch. Pip was curled up near the heath, where it provided shelter against the winter cold. She set herself upon one of the wooden chairs settled near the frosted window, staring out into the fast falling snow, her head resting on  the ice cold panes. The smell of tonight's dinner of Gruyere and boiled potatoes lingered in the air. All was still, except for the dancing shadows cast by the glowing embers.

Today had been a busy day, preparing for the Yuletide. Pappy went tree hunting with Pip while she and mum decorated the humble cottage with clippings of mistletoe and evergreen.

The snow-capped mountains have never seemed so inviting.

...
I really hate how I act first and then feel guilty over the consequences.  I have promised myself that I wouldn't act as rashly... but sadly I break that promise every time. And along with that every time, I hold in more guilt and anger towards myself.

Maybe that's the issue, I hold back too many of my emotions, especially anger, since my family looks down upon that. Perchance, I've held it in too long. To a point where I have reached my capacity and I just...snap. But alas, that does nothing but continue the endless cycle...filling up with guilt again and more anger at myself. I doubt I'll ever get out of this... but I believe that I must do something about it since it doesn't hurt just me. I mean it this only affected myself, I could care less...

Today was a splendid day. She went picking lavender for tonight's creme brulee with mum and their Labrador, Pip.

The cerulean sky was without blemish, save for the tiny clouds beyond the snow-capped mountains.The sun basked over the quiet, motionless sea of light purples and deep greens. There was a lone willow tree in the distance, near the pond. Bright green lily pads of various sizes decorated the face of the water. But there weren't any flowers. Once in a while, a light breeze would waltz through, disturbing the stillness of it all.

She was exploring the vastness of the field, holding out her hand to feel every blade of grass. Pip happily chased the unfortunate dragonflies that happened by. Mum was busy picking lavendar, looking up occasionally to check on her.

She stopped. The sight of the willow caught her eye.

...

.___. I'm worrying about something, but I don't know what. It could just be my looming editorial that I've yet to finish or...I just don't know.

He's back in my life again. I don't know whether to kick him out or welcome him back with open arms. I should have just ignored him from the start. I don't want to go through all that drama again. I really don't understand how he can come back and pretend that nothing's happened. All those things he said.... I mean he was the one who told me to "[expletive] off." And I did. I'm tired of all these crazy mind games.

I don't know what he wants anymore. I never wanted a relationship in the first place, I was only there to help. As a friend. Apparently, he took that gesture and twisted it into something else. Perhance, this is all a product of his own doing--his own creation.

Maybe it's not worry. Maybe it's apprehension... fear.

Wow, this place has changed a lot. Actually, many blogging/networking sites have changed during the span of this year. Though, I've noticed that they're all conforming to Facebook. Sites such as this, Gaia, and even Xanga are beginning to offer services like that of Facebook. It's quite odd...:I Darn this conformity... I wonder, come '09, will all social networking sites be exactly like FB?

Anyway, my real reason for posting here is to just let some crap out and get some of my thoughts out of my mind. I am pretty sure no one reads this, so this place sort of serves as my shoulder to lean on or cry on... sometimes. I just don't think it's right to pile my personal problems on other people... as they've already their own problems. It's tough... talking to myself... all this circular logic that leads to nowhere. But, it's a release, and that's all I  need for now. I know this won't offer any help for me... nor will this fix me... but at least this will make hiding what I am a bearable task.

I haven't really changed at all. I am still who I am eight or so years ago. I'm still as messed up as I ever was, but now I'm just betting at hiding everything, I guess. I am still afraid to trust people, to get close to them. I am still afraid of love...

I really don't know what to think right now. I feel like shit. I feel as if I am just a puppet. A puppet to my own guilt. I don't even know where that guilt's coming from.

It's so weird, though. I'm fine when I'm around people, but when I'm alone... all these thoughts come rushing in. Then that wave of guilt and depression takes over me and I am just left incapable of anything really. It's strange to actually type this out, forcing myself to read this. It's kind of like looking into a mirror. Painful reality, staring back at you.

...

I can't do this. I want to let it out, but I can't. It's been too long. The stopper is stuck in the bottle. Maybe this is a blessing in diguise. Surely, it must be.

...

I guess that horoscope I read from the paper was right. I throw myself in other people's problems so that I won't have to deal with my own.


maybe you are better than me. i should try to be more like you. though, sadly, we aren't too different from each other.

It's quite odd...how I continue to isolate myself from everyone. It seems so natural to me...

We did what we could. Mended what could be mended. Talked over what was to be talked over. We did all we could. We bared with each other when times were rough. Kept the moment safe, if only temporarily. In the end we knew. We knew a farewell had to be said. We knew to go separate paths. Lest if we do not, we will both be in pain. I promise to never be like you. To never wallow in my sorrow. To never again mutilate my flesh. To never see only one side of things. To never take action by emotion alone. To never show my sorrow. To never use my sorrow as a tool for attention. To never manipulate the one closest to the heart. To never induce guilt upon the one closest to the heart.  To never commit a wrong and claim otherwise. I promise to never be like you, so there will not be another one like me.