Can anyone say that they truly know themselves? The more i interact with the outside world, the more i find the need to portray a certain image, be it sensible, cool, fun-loving, shy, forth-right, and so on. The greatest irony is that i'm not sensible, cool, fun-loving, shy, forthright, etc all the time. Sometimes, i don't even know who i am, the face that i present to different people are according to the expectations they have of me, or how i want to be seen by them. I can be tactful, and tactless, noisy and quiet. I can be a crazy woman, crack lame jokes, and yet present a detached and confident front. Am I putting on an act, yes, I would think so, but that's also part of who I am. The crux of the whole matter is what kind of facade i am putting on for different people. I can feel excitement and apprehension, joy and jealousy- all these emotions are not isolated and alone. So who am I? I don't really know, only that i'm complicated enough to give myself a splitting headache if i try to dissect and reason why i feel what i feel. I'm past the stage of agonising about myself, it won't help matters if i moan about things without doing anything about it. so.. what am i gg to do abt it?

having prolonged holidays might sound like fun, but it's a dead bore if you haf absolutely nothing to do- or haf too much that you don't want to, good grief...

Monotony

Why do we do things
that we dislike,
all senses screaming at the futility
of action
even as our hands
are compelled to move
in endless monotony?

It is the notion
of something better
beyond that monotony
that drives me-
whether or not
that it really comes through-
is another matter.

Raindrops keep falling on my head.... hahahahah!

It's finally stopped raining, yipee!

not that it does any good to poor old mi still stuck at home... o well, hahas.

Sky still overcast, but it's not too bad, yeah;p

Reading 'The Heart is a lonely hunter' for now, it's a great book. Thanx Mrs Gan!

How can you so easily
say the words
that hurt me so much?
Why is it,
that my tears fall
unbidden,
uncontrolled,
so hatefully,
betraying my emotions?

There seems an eternity
between me
and relief
how much you hurt me
I want to hurt you back.
I am not perfect,
I cannot control this surge
of anger that threatens
to choke me,
wrangling my thoughts
making me worse than I
already am.

I have to leave,
to get away,
before I do something
I regret.

Misunderstandings

It happens
when we disagree,
when we cant seem to realize
how much we are hurting
each other
with words that we say
or leave unsaid.

I want to hurt you,
so that you'd understand
the pain that I'm
going through,
so that you'd come around to my view.

I don't want to hurt you,
so I keep my feelings trapped
screaming inside the empty vessel
of my heart,
so fiercely I cant even breathe.

I cant scream,
I want to cry,
I know I cant show any weakness
for you to hurt me;
I hide.

Where I hide I do not know,
I only feel the aching of my soul.
Cry, because I am hurt,
Cry, because I feel pain-
Cry, because you never understand-

My soul is torn in pieces,
pieces I never find.

Imprints

The crashing of the waves
against the jagged rocks below
beats steadily on my ear
as I leave my dripping footprints
deep in the sand,
stepping, doubly hard,
so that the imprints are clear,
although I know
they will be washed away,
as soon as the next wave comes
crashing, sinking my feet
in swirling particles of white and gold.

I try anyway, doubly hard,
to leave a part of me
on this beach,
even as I know,
all trace will be eventually erased,
just as I finally
leave this world, sinking my feet
in swirling white clouds reflected on golden paths.

Dying Again

I feel the tear from your weeping eye
that slides down the length of my pale cold arm,
it is warm, with the heat of your pain.

Do you know that you are killing me
all over again
my heart that is crying
crimson tears that tear my soul
into pieces.

I can feel the hotness of your palms
clenching my lifeless one-
do you know that you are suffocating
my soul that is still
alive and watching?

If you only know
the soft wind that is caressing your hair
the cool tremours on your hand-
that I am here,

right beside you,
dying once again
from the pain of your love.

I see the widening distance between us-
it is a rift that tears us into halves-
slowly, like the withering
of a peeled rose,
It is our hearts that are torn in two.

Is this Love?

Why do i feel this vague longing,
that tug in my heart,
when your face appears in my mind?

I am unable to stop
your smile that blossoms in my heart,
like the warm rays of an emerging rainbow.

It sends tingles into my soul,
that flutter in my breast
is both disconcerting and exhilarating.

It is both terror and laughter,
the joy of anticipation-
it is your presence that I long for, and yet dread.

How could I face rejection,
how could I face the shattering of
my perfect dream?

It is both need and denial-
I try to convince myself
that life can go on without you.

I hope that I am not wrong,
even as my heart still quickens at your smile-
I must yet, learn to live alone.

Madness

Madness is daring to be different from the majority:)

'Everyone is mad, indeed, the maddest are the ones who don't know they're mad, but keep repeating what others tell them to.

If people don't like it, they can complain. And if they don't have the courage to complain, that's their problem.

What's dignity? It's wanting everyone to think you're good, well-behaved, full of love for your fellow man. Have some respect for nature, watch a few films about animals and see how they fight for their own space.'

-extracts from Veronika Decides to Die

I feel that sometimes we are made to give way and be considerate so much that we lose a sense of self, so much so that we build up all our resentments inside because we want to be accepted as the 'correct' type of person, the caring, considerate type that the values of our society respect.

Yet, to what extent should we be obliging, considerate puppets who move at society's whims?

Granted, our characters are so developed that we naturally desire most of the things that society approves of- the effect of brainwashing from young, but do we give in to the incessant demands of a materialistic culture that threatens to reduce us to work ourselves to death buying useless, frivolous things that only serve to inflate our self-importance and soothe our growing egos?

And yet, on the other end of the spectrum, what if we become so selfish and inconsiderate, living for the betterment of ourselves, such we are reduced to animals, fighting, red in tooth and claw, heedless of the pain and suffering of those who are brainwashed by society to care about the detrimental effects of your actions- will we truly not be able to attain the care and concern that we crave and need when we are finally shunned by the majority?

Perhaps, hiding our madness is the best, because we live in this world. Would it be better to be labelled an eccentric, or be welcomed in every social circle that you come into, even as if you feel that your life is a never-ending act, and your true self is lost in the depths of your smiling facade, and your inner child is reduced from the loud-wailing at conception to tiny whimpers of sickness?

Realized tt i've not been thinking this past few days.. hope after the celebratory spirit has settled i'll be motivated to think again...

Yea...