~ Ephemeral Visage ~

twining thoughts Got a little book of thoughts from a friend today... it reminded me of the times when I sat down in front of my desktop and words simply flowed from my fingertips, to become dancing literature on the occasionally-blinking screen. I thought to write a book too, but was daunted by the ridiculity that few years down the road I would look back, and feel diminished by the thoughts I may have now. Or maybe even then. Take an example... I may think that smoking is bad now. Even distanced myself from a friend some years back because he picked up the habit; I just couldn't accept it. Now, as I think of it, I'm still against it, but slightly more accomodating towards social smoking. Yet who knows several years yonder, I may be the one chimney I proclaim my very detest. When I look back, would I chuckle at my narrowmindedness now, or would I feel the pinch that I deteriorated to smoking habits, now hooked and buried in narcotine's clutches? Either way... I'll look...

Playing for none I felt Time leave me... Trapping me in void No fluidity of passage None could escape. Torn... like an estranged kite I lost... Before I could fight. Don't wanna end up like that. You have new friends now... I guess that's a natural phenomenon. When our timetables don't allow us to meet up, it's reasonable you get new friends. I would. But I can't help but notice... when I ask for just a day out, you're occupied. Are you avoiding me, or are you just tired? Even when i'm sharing so much, it doesn't seem enough... why? I'm not complaining... maybe it's true we're all busy; maybe I'm not one of your priorities; maybe you want fresh faces... but I hope you realise, your old friends need you, especially when none of us left each other. I just hope for those few hours that you may put aside for me... like I put mine for you.

-- silhouettes -- I said I'll let go... but i didn't think I'll let go of so many people, of so much. I let go of a friend... then another... and soon there'll be another another. Might as well get it over and done with... then no more lies... no more rehearsed lies to cover up what I truly feel. Would you still insist on a relationship that's no longer plausible? Yeah, indeed the definition of plausible may be subjective, but what wrong is it to claim it's not working out, when every time I breathe the same air as you, I feel miserable? Tell me what wrong it is when I try to discuss what went wrong, you simply say you're sick of my accusations; I'm being ridiculous? The harder I try... each time i try to be nice... I just end up being hurt. Why be this sadomasachist... why shouldn't I stop? Once and for all... just quit. That's what I did tonight... maybe the sadness hasn't set in yet, maybe it will surprise me by never setting in. I realise...

Leaving you the bouquet Now... finally after all this time... I let go, leaving Hope, dreams, and others behind, buried at a grave where you don't lie ... with a fresh bouquet.. and wine. Many things have happened. Or should I start with those that didn't. Pardon me for not writing... I'd been drowned, in tears so dark with agony, with air so thick you thought you'll die...and none to mourn my departure. I merely woke up. Sick and tired of being... sick and tired. Readjusting the radar screen was an action by choice. Try or no try, you'll never show up on the screen no more. -- Ernie. That seemed right... no matter how I try... no matter what I try... it would never be what I wish it to be again. I'll just end up being the jester, tripping all over myself just to make things work. This is just like another jt case. The harder you try, the harder you'll fall. Which made me wonder... who the faggot said 'He who never tries will never succeed.'? Why t...

A Little Girl's Post Images of how lovingly he looked into her eyes kept surfacing... how he held her hand when he didnt need to...the familiar way of how he lifted their hands slightly when they went down the steps. I made myself stay and take in everything. Haha.. maybe I'm really a sadomasachist like what some of my friends say. It hurts but I saw it through. Maybe.. he did all that just as an act so as to get the prize. But it still had an effect on me, though it's seriously not his fault. I really shouldn't be feeling the way I do too. So...feeling down, I went for a walk along clarke quay...past those many curious stares from merry-making people along the clubs. The bridge was nice... the river was a deep dark blue, comforting in its way. I know nobody realised I was gone, which was probably a good thing because I could be alone. When my phone rang I was half tempted to call up my friend to ask him not to leave, and take up his offer of drinking by the roadside. B...

Today... I cried. It was a wonderful day, really... until we decided to buy a packet of hair dye and I was entrusted the job. To say I screwed up was an understatement... dunno why I even agreed in the first place... but the color was too blond and the texture uneven. I suck at this man, peepz out there... dun ever tell me to dye your hair unless you can't get an MC to let u stay home for the next few months. Usually I would laugh it off after truckloads of apologies, even volunteer a salon trip the next day. Of course I'll pay for the repairs.. but.. couldn't withstand the response when my friend first saw his hair color in the mirror. I think I'm glad he didn't kill me. With what that sounds like sacarsm or even jeering, he muttered "I can't believe you let the dye stay so long". Okay, perhaps I deserved that... but when i volunteered the salon trip he simply slapped it down, "Don't be stupid la... I don't believe in wasting money"...

It rained since that day Knowing this is not good to my health... im unable to draw back from its lures, dares, and possibility of unexpected pleasure. This drug is too sweet to withdraw from, yet like any other toxins it poisons my blood. Slowly. My mind's been saying I'll be able to pull out anytime if I'll just set my mind to it... but this may fast become a thing of the past. A very good showing sign of uncontrollable addiction is the familiar ache. It consumes my mind over time. I know if I don't back up slowly, it may just destroy my functionability one day. And I mean soon. It's damp and cold in here. The rain.... oh the elixir of life now seems the catalyst of death. The water's pooling around...waiting to drown. The wind whispers heresay, which sounds suspiciously like persuasion of death. "Maybe it's better than living. Just close your eyes and sink in. Think about it." ~~..~~ It's not quiet... I don't hear only drip drip... bu...