An apology to Aik

On this year's Father's Day, one thing has been gnawing away at my mind.

I hate to see how much my son is missing out on quality time with parents, and this is a very sincere, heartfelt apology to you, Aik. I write it now while the thought is fresh and the feelings are raw in the hope that you will see this when you are old enough to read and understand my words.

I am sorry that I could not hold on to the dreams I had, for us, when you were conceived. My hopes and intention were to dedicate my time to you completely, at least in the first few years of your life.

I dreamt of seeing you grow as your daddy and I held your hand, and guided you through life together.

But then this is life, son. And life sometimes takes abrupt, unpleasant turns and it cannot be helped.

Things didn't work out and your daddy had to leave. And you became solely my life, my love, my responsibility.

And that changed things.

When responsibilities double, that takes away time from us.

I'm sorry I absorbed myself so completely in work. It was as much for my sanity, for dealing with the blow life had dealt our way, as to support you singlehandedly.

I try my best to give you all you need and to be there for you. I accept it is nowhere near enough though. And I apologise for that.

As you have just turned three, Mummy promises to try finding a way to try and make up for lost time. To sort out a way to make things stable enough so as to balance supporting you and dedicating quality time to spend with you.

I love you, Aikie. More than I have loved anyone ever.

I am trying my best to be mummy, friend and oftentimes even daddy, to you.

I hope life takes us to a better place soon.

<3

A little hope in times of despair.

The loud silence saws away at the threads of my sanity.
It is the mute screams of a soul in despair,
The unheard wails of a conscience shattered into a million shards,
The stifled sobs as these shards push into the depths of my heart.

Despite the tough masks I wear for the world,
As my dreams bled to death I looked on, not seeing.
I stood numb and stared, teary-eyed and confused,
As around me, the world collapsed,
As dreams died and thoughts turned to venom.

As life, itself, became worthless.

_________________________________

Wait.
A hand reaches out, a voice whispers in my ear.
"All's not lost. I'm here, always."

Could it be?

Is there still hope?
Can dreams be rebuilt and life rekindled?
Can love cure wounds and be antidote to a poisoned conscience?

I will hold that hand and walk on again,
We will find the soul I lost and try again.

May God forgive me for that fleeting thought of despair,
For the yearning I had to bleed to death with the dream.

F(r)iend.

And so.
I am sitting in the silence,
Watching the blinding skies weep,
Utterly content with life.

Phone rings.
A number I do not recognise.
Pick up phone, lay it back down.
Answer it in the end.

Oh hello.
It's a call to attempt rubbing salt into wounds that do not exist.
Attempting to add fuel to a fire that only burns in the caller's mind.

'Hello, love, Happy Mother's Day,
Is Aik a disturbed kid as his dad's never around?
Oh. And poor you.
Still no man to keep you warm?

My hubby(ugh) and I just came back from holiday
We talked of you there
How you're stuck with a son and no life. Oops, sorry.

We spoke of how you must envy us
And well, I wouldn't blame you.
You're younger, smarter, prettier,
And still ended up such loser *giggle*'

Sigh.
If I were half as spiteful as you are.
I might then mention that the man you gloat of
Is sleeping around with at least two other women I know.

Or I might point out how ridiculous it is for a child lover
To refrain from having kids in case you get 'too fat' for your man.

Or what a loss it is
That you gave up on your career,
The one you worked so hard to build,
Because your 'hubby' can't trust you outside the house

Honestly, love, I envy no one
And especially not such a farce of a life.

I have my son, who is my life.
I earn enough to provide for him through work I love.
I have complete independence and freedom.
I am content. My son is happy.

What more can one want?
I wish you well, but I won't waste anymore time on you.

Suicide Sticks

What is it about this suicide stick that makes it so appealing?
What is it about this flirtation with death that makes me light up smoke after smoke?

Is it the sheer confidence that death will come, coupled with the uncertainty of when?

But then, doesn't that sound like life itself?
Isn't that what this existence does in the end?
So, perhaps, all that this suicide stick does is lift away half of life's burdens.

Let me light one up.
Burn away another few minutes of my life.
Gaze up at some moments that won't ever come rise up in a wisp of smoke from the tip of my suicide stick.

Let my mind soar with the smoke,
Let my thoughts shine like the glow at the end of my suicide stick.

Let me disappear in my mind and wonder how, and why, this that kills kills whilst giving me such joy.

The Desire to Disappear.

The desire to disappear,
To make believe I am not.
To live among strangers,
People I expect would care not.

The pressures it frees me from,
The absolute absence of obligations.
The purest form of freedom,
to live beyond familiar limitations.

I have done so once before,
Forced into it by circumstance.
I wished then I could remain so,
And that none felt my absence.

Life, of course, takes it own course.
I do think of coming back with such remorse.

If I can, I will disappear again,
To live life as me,
And not how society demands I be.

Good night.

It's so quiet here.

It's blissful to sit alone and just enjoy the hum of silence, the fleeting shadows in the semi-dark, the thoughts that seep through a heavy, yet still, mind.

It's a small relief to let go, if only for a split second, of the worries that life push our way.

To sit in a corner with the breeze caressing me, and causing leaves to rustle, and to decidedly refuse to care what tomorrow may leave me to deal with.

I like the lack of fucks I give in this short-lived moment. This is a rare gift from life, this feeling of not caring, of hiding away all my fears and trepidations.

This heavy-hearted peace that comes with the momentary realisation that fret as much as I might, the troubles that are meant for me will come my way regardless. That I will just have to deal with it as best I can. And should I make the wrong choices, well, I'll just have to deal with it, again, as best I can.

And so this soul was at peace for the duration of less than a dozen heartbeats. Now the troubled mind awakens, and this tired self is left best asleep.

Good night, scary little world.

Again.

Confusion reigns in my mind.

Pleasant chaos leading to many a sleepless night,
Loving so much it leaves me in such a fright.

When will it learn,
This foolish heart of mine.
Why does it still yearn,
When without love it was doing fine.

Thought there was so much a woman could take,
And yet again I surprise myself.
For the sake of love, I put my mind and heart at stake,
Is this me about to add another heartbreak onto that shelf?

Lord, spare me the heartache.
Should I walk ahead or should I walk away?
So much at stake on this one decision I must make.
Lord, pray tell, should I go or should I stay?

Don't regret.

Don't.
Don't harbour that feeling of grief or remorse.
Not for the gazillion mistakes you've made, for it's in the wake of these you've carved your steps forward.
Not for the open doors you ignored and walked past, for they are long closed and there is no going back.
Not for the cruel words you've said, for they have now left your mind leaving it that much cleaner.
Not for the friends who've gone and you've lost touch with, for if they meant so much you'd both have made more of an effort.
Not for the lover who broke your heart, for sooner or later he would have crumbled your dreams.
Not for the sister who took her own life, for the life was hers and not yours to judge.
Not for the empty promises you believed, for every loss has left you wiser.
Not for the family that is broken and in tatters, for what's bonds of blood without bonds of love.
Not for the prayers you refused to say, for God is still there and waiting for repentance.
Don't.
Don't waste half your life with feelings of guilt, grief and remorse.
Act, apologise, change and reform.
Love, leave, let go and move on.
Choose again and choose differently if you will.
But regret is a waste,
An edge of a cliff, a cul de sac, a dead end.
Step back, turn around, take a different path instead.

Rejuvenating.

Around 9 at night, lying alone on a strip of beach extending out into the sea, absolute silence except for the waves lapping on the beach, a fabulously imperfect silver full moon, nothing but sea and sky for as far as the eye can see.

What more can one ask for :)

At times like this, life doesn't seem so cruel. At times like this, I can feel a sliver of that fleeting emotion you call happiness.

All around me I see shades of black, grey, silver, white. Beauty lies in simplicity and whatever makes you content, not in bright colours and complexity.

Tonight, I love life.

Love is but a delusion.

Love is but a myth,
A delusion sweetened through poem and prose.
Love is but a dream,
An illusion of the mind as you doze.

In the hands of a man of words,
Love can be moulded to seem all you yearn.
Yet once you've succumbed to be love birds,
The emotion is sure to make you burn.

Sweet while it does last,
Seeps venom as it leaves.
Love felt in the near past,
Sure to kill you when it deceives.

Memories from yesteryears.

A drowned memory washed up on the shores of consciousness. It is nothing but a ghost of a past thought. No emotions, no tenderness, no nostalgia around it. Perhaps a wisp of remembrance, a reluctant sigh at what was.
Before the mind could dwell on it, the waves approach to take back what's theirs. The memory is carried back into the depths of the sea of buried thoughts.
Perhaps someday it will be washed up again, and maybe next time repressed emotions will accompany it.

Dark, Gloomy, Negative.

Mind has been spiralling furiously downwards these past few days. Going through tedious daily routines, I feel like I'm seeing the world through horribly dark shades.

I see shadows, but not the people they belong to.
I hear echoes, not the messages people throw at me.
I feel alone, and sad, and hopeless.
I feel like giving up and just letting go.

Life is such a farce.

Missing: A worn out pair of stinky sneakers

Well, this is new and strange. Have you ever heard of shoes getting stolen on a flight? :/

Well, mine did.

I crawled around on all fours to see if it had hid itself in some unlikely corner. The stewardess then bent down and asked me with all good intent: "Ma'am, are you SURE you were wearing shoes?" >.<

Oh well. I've flown another three hours away from where that flight landed, so I suppose the pair is lost for good.

Someone somewhere is walking around in my shoes while my toes are freezing to death here.

Here's hoping the new owner treats my sneakers with love, and that my sneakers give the new owner some horrid blisters :@

And meanwhile, I need to decide if it's acceptable to wear this new footwear to tomorrow's conference...

Staying sane, Staying happy.

To live.
To refuse to analyze, or to keep expectations.
To give, and to take no more than I can give.
To enjoy what is real, and what is imagined.
To take chances, and to be cautious in taking them.
To do what I feel good doing, and to not be bothered with what others may assume I'm doing.
To share, but to keep the walls steadily up.
To set boundaries, and to not cross those lines.
To love what is, and to not worry about what may go awry.
That is how I stay sane, I stay happy today.

Fear of Deception

Caution: A troubled heart is about to speak. Do not venture on if you find rants and platitudes bothersome.

Like 2012, I've begun 2013 with the intention of remaining single.

Unlike 2012, I hope to see the year through while still staying single.

Last year, I saw myself step into a relationship by mid-year, only to see it end before the end of the year in the usual manner: deception.

Being a person for whom honesty is the one value held in the highest regard, deception of any form is hard to accept, hard to get over, and hard to deal with. Deception and being lied to leaves me a little more dead every time. And yet, I find myself getting into relationships time and again.

But no. This year, I intend to give myself time to build walls and strengthen my defences. Time enough to ensure the next deception, which will doubtless come, will leave me less scared and less scarred.

I know everyone faces similar lots in life; perhaps I'm just much worse at dealing with mine.

At the moment, I have a soul in conflict:
A naive heart that longs to share, and a weary mind that cautions to steer clear.

Life itself has left me weary. Society has made me pessimistic about people. People have left me cynical about their intentions.

Isn't it funny how the world takes you by the hand, leads you into momentary bliss, just before pushing you off into an abyss of lies? Isn't it amazing how society contributes to your troubles, and then proceeds to judge you by them?

I have decided to side with my mind. I'll fully embrace my philophobia, my fear of attachment, my fear of dependence, my fear of happiness felt through being with another; all of  which stems from my fear of deception.

I turn away not because I'm bitter, but because I'm cautious.
I tread lightly not because I'm timid, but because I'm tired.