Falling slowly

They tell me space disappears, between two people

It begins with the first real kiss. With eyes and hearts open in acquiesce

When time stops, with bated breath, to witness lips and futures intertwine.

Yet nobody told me how space can also expand, like nebulous gasses, between two people

When the eyes and hands turn away,

Broken hearts shatter across the sky like pretty meteors burning.

Ballad of the Lonely

Its raining out. Light is reflected on the sidewalk puddles. Starbucks is playing Radiohead. I almost finished my latte. Papers are strewn across the table.

And I wish so much I had someone to miss me.

Some days, melancholy

Some days, you can’t fake it.

During those days, its hard to convince yourself that everything will be ok.

When the adult part of you tries to calm the panicking inner child, you use the same voice you use when you call your mom to tell her not to worry, that everything is great over here.. right before hanging up and crumpling to the floor.  You invoke the same logic that time heals all pain. You recite the tired phrases that there is a silver lining to all tragedies and really, God’s got your back. 

But you don’t really believe that, not really.  Not all the time.  

So you sift through puppy photos and uplifting quotes online just as Spotify randomly picks out just the right songs to break your heart.

You have the wondrous ability to surrender you mind, flesh and soul, yet powerless to compel another to even meet you halfway.  A fucking Russian roulette of winner takes all.  You wager your heart for a chance to escape servitude to Loneliness, for that shot at bliss.  And you try again and again until all love is loss to Heartbreak and you return to Loneliness’ dominion – paralyzed and bitter.

How cruel it is that everyone has the need to love and also the limitless capacity to hurt and despair. 

Some days you love.

Some days you are adored.

Some days you hate.

Some days you are despised.

Today I am broken.  Maybe I will be pieced together again.

Some day.

Echos

Loneliness is quiet.
Loneliness is vast.

Its a void that expands and floods the spaces of the mind and the crevices of the heart. Invisible, yet palpable. Its a juxtaposition where absence causes pain.  

As pleasure, love, joy gives definition to their lack thereof. loneliness springs from pining of fulfillment that once was.  Which is presumably why its so damn painful, this mourning for ghosts of contentment past.

Anthony Robbins has a a very simple way of describing unhappiness. It is a state when our situation (or whatever specific aspect in our lives that is causing us pain),  does not line up with the blueprint in our heads of what the situation SHOULD be.  If in our minds, we have defined bliss to be a life living in a perfect house in a perfect neighborhood with perfect kids and a perfect dog, while holding down that perfect job with the best boss in an excellent organisation .. the moment life laughs at your silly plans and hands you a lemon instead, THAT is where pain happens.

It is not uncommon to want our social lives to be filled with the right people who are present and who gives unconditional love the way we want it, and is happy to go grab a pizza/watch a movie/share an orange mocha frappachino - to make us feel safe, comforted, wanted and relevant. We want someone to miss us when we are away, to worry when we don't ring back, to bring us chicken soup when we are under the weather and to allow us to go through the very same motions with them.

So when I said earlier that loneliness is by definition absence - it does not only encompass being given another's time and attention, but also having someone to give ourselves to.

As human beings, we are blessed to have so much capacity to dispense compassion and we have unlimited ability to receive. Yet our tragedy is that we can only instinctively value another's affection when it comes in the same forms we ourselves dispense to the world. As we well-meaningly  beam out our being through red heart-shaped holes, we cannot process it when someone else offers themselves in square pegs. As the spectrum spans from being friendzoned to emotional abuse, its mind boggling that so many complications exist to the simple request - "love me, please?"

Ask and you shall receive

What do you do when you have no idea what you want?
 
Almost all motivation books out there scream to go get what you want in life (and here is how for only $12.99)!  And Alan Watts will glibly tell you to live your life in the NOW and to not do what you want is just plain stupid.

Yet, should I have Jack Sparrow's mysterious compass, will it show me the direction of my heart's desire, even if I dont really know what it is? (for sure it will take me to the nearest JCo Donuts but I am talking after the sugar rush subsides).

Do I seek our the Mirror of Erised and risk going mad? But then I would be in Hogwarts and I am quite sure I will find some mischief to manage there and the problem will sort itself out.

There is no dearth in fiction of people searching for their dreams. Yet, is there no 12 step programme in this universe where I can find out my ultimate purpose?

Courage comes hard to one who has been told too many times that one is wrong.
Hell is lifetime of  regret and a bouquet of I-told-you-so.

Why so serious?

I dont normally do movie reviews.  Many others are much better at it.

However, I am compelled to write about this.

Suicide Squad.

The critics were right - the movie sucked. And yes, I did go a second time just to confirm that it indeed sucked.

Yet while there was hardly any plot to dig into, the movie does have some super awesome scenes. It's like a collection of scenes which had colour and sound and attitude - damn, made me wanna go get a Glock bat right after the show.  

I am pretty sure that had not most of the scenes played by Jared Leto been left on the cutting floor, it would be a movie about Mr J.

But more than anything, Joker removing his jacket and falling into the chemical vat after Harley - has to be the sexiest scene I have encountered. God dammit. That is how you make a mind fuck so sexy.

Desire becomes surrender. Surrender becomes power.

Poyo but still, I read that in the Joker's voice. Did you?

Chasing the white rabbit.

Checking in.
And I have been talking about checking out. Still. I guess with some of the most important anchors from my last journey having just upped and left, the heart is adrift again. And dangerously, the mind sinks into the dark abyss again.

Still using the same mindless drifting metaphor, the tumbleweed moniker has become a self-fulfilling prophesy. My life purpose remains elusive,  and the time for action is dead at a quarter to. Maybe I need a shrink. Maybe I need a friend. Maybe I need a hero. Yet it seems like I need to don the armour myself and strap in my phasers to avoid disappointment from pseudo knights on white horses which most likely need saving themselves.

Still, I managed to fulfill one promise to the folks and took them to Bali with almost no planning. Like in all holidays of the past 3 years, my most memorable moment was next to the water, the Indian Ocean to be more precise. And like all oceans, it didn't disappoint in terms of the ferocity and power. It was particularly turbulent when we were there and the pull towards the waves and rocks was so strong, I could swear that I was lured by siren song.  I was only held back by the guarded stares of Mom and Dad which locked and pulled me back like a benevolent tractor beam.

I interrupt this baseless rambling to state with utter seriousness that if there ever was a Westeros, I would most likely be iron born. What is dead may never die.

How small we are. How insignificant with our ridiculous fretting.  what a waste of energy and intellect to have all this capacity and yet live small meaningless lives to eat, seek shelter, procreate (for most lucky ones anyway) and then die. On a rock that orbits the sun until it one day collapses into itself, scorch the earth and kill everything.
How stupidly futile.

And here I am wondering if the boss will yell at me tomorrow.
How stupidly futile.
 

Turbulence

Good news: You are in the air, baby
Bad news: You can fucking crash

I could kill for a cigarette. But its 17 bucks a pack. ROI very poor. I do have a white chocolate magnum sitting in the freezer - but some instances only nicotine would do. It is very very dangerous to be staying so close to a 711.

Today I had to help a subsidiary put up a pitch. Still working on the deck. Ok, I was a little hard on my poor unsuspecting colleagues but hey, I could do this in a couple of hours versus taking full days now. Wow, I actually know stuff. Awesome!

So I did this personality profile thing over the weekend and yeah, looks like my personality type is the rarest in the world. Omg is that why it's so hard to find a soul mate? Apparently I am a introverted diplomat. Is that also why I can't tell people to go to hell?  But that so does not match my resting bitch face, which really can fool you. And I am the type of person who writes and reads good. Booyah! In your face, Hemmingway.

On a totally different tangent - I was once told that we are all energy and we attract people with similar vibrations as ours. God, I must have been such an asshole. Okay maybe that is unfair. I know some very wonderful people so I guess if I am good, I am very very good. If I am bad, I am horrid. So much for Sunday's child is full of grace.

So anyway, turbulence.  Word of the past two days.
People hurt me. I hurt people. I hurt me. People hurt. You need suffering to understand joy. You need darkness to understand light. You need loss to understand fulfillment. It's a crap deal.

Haiya, Magnum pun Magnum lah. 

Bye bye bunny

RIP Peanut 11 March 2016

Fuck this. No really.

So its been one helluva crappy week.

I have been OD-ing on everything that cannot possibly be good for me.  Which of course includes work.

There is a sudden shift in the dynamics of my universe, having another satellite joining my orbit.  I underestimated how the gravity of another spinning rock can totally shift my own balance. In equal, no - more dramatically,  is news of the imminent loss of my north star.

Admittedly I didn't realise how little it would need to take me back to periods of self doubt, longing and despair. And it still astounds me the cruelty people can inflict on each other.
Does truth really set you free?  Only if there was an absence of it in the first place.

But one good thing is that with new people coming into my life, I am able to let some go. It was liberating but on the other hand, it only seems like musical chairs. Am I manifesting this drama? Do I need to send another person to therapy?  Do I give up and start collecting cat names?  

Still, are these experiences and persons, mirrors ? Am I suppose to clear more experiences? I thought I had a grip of all this shit. Especially after Janda Baik. And yet I can see Christie grinning going - "it's not over".

Sigh.

I know. There are always challenges and I need to meditate and go back to at least attempting to live clean. I am a bit miffed that I let myself lose that momentum. But I hope all is not lost.