Psychic Numbness

I think after too much shit, your mind and heart just numb themselves. Kit's words have never left me all these years. "It's the end, Faiz. You've lost. You don't deserve anyone, and you'll always end up alone." I tried desperately to locate him, but his skills at vanishment rival mine. He scarred me badly, so badly that I thought there was no way I could feel pain again. Maybe I was wrong. Of course, it always hurts when someone leaves. Through reasons I may never understand. I opened my heart up to Phoebe yesterday, and I don't want to speak of these topics again. No family. No religion. No music. No piano. It's fine, because I'm not hurting, am I? I walked the corridors again last night, and there was this faint humming echoing throughout them. My swan song, perhaps. The numbness I feel is a blessing, be it from the alcohol or some unknown reason. I'm going home today, but I will not speak to him. I am in the eye of the storm. Let the world whirl and spin around me. Let it rage away, but I remain untouched for today. Just one day. What did I do wrong, Kit? All of you who have left or are still in the transit area, tell me. For you I'd bleed myself dry. This time it's no longer the little girl I see sitting with her knees drawn up to her chin, watching as the flames encircle her. It's me. The rivers of fire are great, deadly serpents that hiss and snarl as they swirl around me. And as the picture solidifies in my mind, the same unsettling calm falls upon me. Perhaps it is the calmness of the damned, because there is no hope left. Dawn is stealing up upon the world. And yet another day begins. The monotony...the loss. I am a master of illusions, and in this final performance, I will not fail. The show, as Queen so famously sang, must go on. In my own little kingdom, I am the puppetmaster and I pull all the strings. I've broken one of the few I consider sacred, and my fingers are bloody as a result. I will not trust anyone again. My parents, my family, my friends, my alphabets. Their knowledge of me is fragmented, and perhaps it is better this way, because then they have less ammunition to strike me with. I won't open my heart up. I can't. Not anymore. I am inherently dark and cautious, and I believe that there is no hope for those condemned. Salvation is merely a word, and it will not be given freely. I cannot alter the way I am, and I don't want to. My darkness gives rise to greatness. I'm going home today, to play my final farewell to a dream I cherished so, but one that ultimately dies under my twisted King Midas touch. My magnum opus, my piece de resistance. It has to end somehow. It is now seven, and I plan to leave at eight. There is no sense in pining away for something needlessly. I can't have it, so that's it. Kit taught me a very harsh, but fitting lesson. In his own words, "You don't deserve anyone." S'right. I don't deserve anyone or anything, and while I have every right to be angry at my losses (plural, by the way. I lost more than one cherished dream) I have to realise that in the end, I'm just another mortal trapped in this miserable plane of existence. What spills out from me onto this blog will not taint how I appear in person. Because the blog is one of the few ways I can truly express myself, and I will not say it in person. And I regret opening up these few weeks. It was all in vain, and I feel terrible about it. I will not speak of this again.
I'm sorry, R. I didn't get the job you wanted for me. Dawn is here. I've slept through the night like a babe. I've tried, really I have. Fought tooth and nail to keep it by my side. But it just can't work, and I'm saying my final goodbyes today. The numbness, as I've said, is a blessing. I'm just so tired of people leaving, even when I've given them what they wanted.

Psychic Misery

I tried to reach out to him, but he drifted even further beyond my reach. That is not to say that he doesn't care. BUt fuck, can't you understand something as simple as...I DON'T WANT IT? Is that all there is to you? Are you that shallow? I tried exploding today, I tried being nice, I tried to play that monstrous creation lurking in the corner. All I've accomplished so far is an increase in blood pressure and a sudden urge to throw things around. I promised myself I'd stay faaaar away from alcohol, and I can't remember the last time I got piss drunk. Oh, wait. I do. It was that time I spoke to all of them and passed out for a couple of hours. But today it's just getting to me. It hasn't rained all day, but there is a heaviness to the air, some intangible pressure that threatens to squeeze the remaining life out of me. Oh, fuck it all. I deserve a drink. Or two. First thing everyone ought to know about me. Never call the house phone. I won't pick up except on rare occasions. Blue bloody moon and all that You wanna contact me, you do it through my cell. Leave a message, or just call the bloody number. 90554732. There. I hope that helps you brainless automatons who keep calling my house phone. I WON'T PICK UP. Good grief. APES are more intelligent. THis phone is annoying. I just want to rip it out and smash it to bits. You MEN are annoying. All the alphabets right down to Z. Ok, fine. So maybe I indulged ina little drink. But it only soured my mood even more. Where's the happy? I won't do it. I won't talk to you because I quit. I gave up, yeah. SO fuck that, and fuck you. You wouldn't understand anyway, you're so entrenched in your work. I get that it's Monday. Wait. Tuesday? It's tuesday. Right. So you're busy, with stuff. A text message only takes so long to type out, you IDIOT! Stop calling because I don't want to talk to anyone. Especially to all you men who I know are only after one thing. It's been a long time snice I got angry enough to be in a throw-objects-around rage. I want to stand on the top of the tallest mountain and scream and scream and cause an avalanche that will bury all these stupid problems six feet under. Maybe more. I tried driving people away today. I can hear the alcohol singing out to me. The darkness irritates me, every sound makes me want to scream. I feel like getting a chair and slamming it against my ceiling. The neighbours are so fucking annoying! SHut UP! Everyone is annoying me. Stupid fucks. They're still banging around up there. What, are they moving a grand piano around? My eyes are growing redder and redder. Maybe it's the alcohol. Akerhol. I've moved my pawns, and now all I can do is wait for the opponent's move. Bring it on. I waited two years for this. Two whole years of silence, and heartache. I just want to vanish. Just...clsoe my eyes and be forever at peace. Stupid world. Can't even have one ONE moment of silence without the stupid phone ringing (DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING LOUD THAT PHONE IS!?) or my idiotic neighbours banging around up there or an SMS from some insipid airhead looking for a mindblowing orgasm. I bet it's my aunt who called. I refuse to talk to her. Or anyone else for that matter. It hasn't even rained. Stupid weather. STUPID WORLD. Why is everyone so preoccupied with hiding the truth from me? For fuck's sake. Ugh. I dont care anymore. If there's a firestorm, I'll just retreat somewhere. Fear flees before the heat of anger. ANd I'm throwing that monstrous invention away tomorrow, even if it means I've secured my own death warrant. It means nothing to me anymore, and I hate seeing what it represents. Some dreams were never meant to be realised. And you stupid fucktard had me waiting for two bloody years, you MORON. I'm always waiting and waiting and waiting. For those who've died, for those who are dying, for those who've left, for those who are leaving. FOR THINGS TO BE RETURNED TO ME. Well, fuck that. I'm tired of waiting, of being the nice lil bunny, the lost puppy who people pick up and play with until they grow bored. Ok. The alcohol isn't working. The sex obviously didn't work. YES you stupid fucktard. I'm not sleeping with you again. Urgh. I tried to get angry with all the wrong people and only succeeded in amking myself miserable-r. More miserable. Whatever. Fuck this situation. Theme song of my life. Oh, hello migraine.I was wondering where you'd gone off to.

Psychic Pyrokinesis

As I was watching the clouds blot out the sun, I found myself growing increasingly restless. The darkness is cool relief from the bright heat of the sun, and somehow I feel like I need to take advantage of it. If only it would storm now. *sighs* When I close my eyes now, I see a little girl in the center of a room that is slowly being consumed by fire. Her knees drawn up to her chin, her eyes glittering in the flickering light of the flames. Her white nightgown is in stark contrast to the shadows that play hide and seek with the flames. Most people would scream for her to run, to save herself. But I believe she is in the eye of the storm. While the forces of nature rage away around her, she is in a place of peace. I can only watch as an eerie calm steals into her eyes. She's looking directly at me as I watch the scene unfold. Even in the face of death, her expression does not waver. I don't know...morbid, isn't it? My heart has been clouded recently, and true to form, I vanish whenever I feel the sensation seeping through. I don't want to always be this way. Not that anyone would understand. *sigh* Without my piano, I feel like a plant kept in darkness. I'm starting to wilt. I'm dying without the instrument that has been my sole companion all these years. In those days, when my family was away, I'd glide down the stairs and play as the darkness swelled around me, an ocean in which I was king. This...this horrible monstrosity rebels from my touch, this horrendous contraption that is my substitute. There will be no substitute, and I feel my strength fading from me, like streams of blood flowing from the condemned. *sigh* Even in despair, I find a thread of heat winding its way through my heart, firing up my blood. I'm so tired of having to fight to keep what is rightfully mine. Those that I love have been snatched away by Time and Ignorance. My anger gives me strength, but the anger of those touched by fire is explosive and unpredictable. Innocent bystanders could be caught in the crossfire, and I don't want that. But I've exhausted myself trying to remain busy in a life so monotonous with my musical companion. My fury is like the rage of volcanos, rare and terrible to behold, and usually deadly. It takes a lot to get me so furious that my words become icy splinters to break hearts. When I close my eyes now, I see charred earth and rivers of burning blood. I have never wanted anything but peace, and now I am denied my only passport to salvation. For reasons that I cannot understand, try as I may. It must storm now, so I can dance in the rain as wild as the elements I so love, and bleed the excess energy away. I don't want anything else except peace, but it seems I can never have that. I need guidance, not from mortals who will never understand. Divine intervention seems laughable to me right now. What have I, a corrupted soul tainted by darkness, done to deserve peace? I will halt the river of tears, because nothing has changed. Two years....six...eight. I'm still all alone. Even worse, I've lost my piano. The only companion that has given me peace, a flickering ray of hope all these years. *shakes head* The walls suffocate me, and without music to keep my darkness at bay, I drown even more each day. It was too much to hope for, wasn't it? My wealth is gone, my skills are fading away to nothingness, and I...believe hope is just a meaningless word people invoke when they are truly desperate. I with all my knowledge of darkness...can never be touched by light. So this is goodbye then. Goodbye to all the fragmented moments of peace I once thought I could collate into my shrine to salvation. As hope dissipates in my open palm and is replaced by a drop of my tears, two..a ceaseless flood...I wonder if I have the strength to face the people who care about me and keep my illusions in place enough to stop them worrying about me. I don't want pity, I don't want sympathy, I don't want anything...save for understanding, and the return of the only emotional attachment I treasure so much.

Psychic Waning

As the moon waxes and wanes, so too does hope. It is odd, because I have never, in all my nineteen years of life, doubted my beliefs. In philosophy, in my life's path, in my abilities. I have always trusted that under the right circumstances, I would make the right move. Perhaps I have always presented an illusion of emotional coldness, as most acquaintances already know. But tonight, all illusions melt away as I watch the cold, pale moon. Appearing to be emotionally cold does not mean I am ignorant to the emotions of others. I do feel. It's just that I feel too much, therefore I have to keep a very tight leash on my feelings, lest they overwhelm me. I can feel time running out for me. In my whole life as a gay man, this was my greatest fear, to be surrounded by men. But a new fear has replaced my wariness of men in general. And that fear lies in the uncertainty of my future. I have talents, yes. But many of these remain untapped and confined, utilised only for the purpose of my amusement. I should write a book, I should start taking the piano seriously, I should start exploring philosophy with more zeal. A few hours on the ivories, and I believed I was set for life. Writing a few short paragraphs, and I thought I had a bestseller. Knowing the premises of the great philosophers made me think I was one too. But as Night raises her own brand of illusions, she strips away most of mine. And I'm not sure whether to rage at her or thank her. I wanted to go home on Wednesday, but then my eyes were too red to be seen in public. Visibility was null, and I didn't fancy being hunted down by exorcists. So I stayed home and brooded. A few hours of rest, and my energy is back at optimum level, and my eyes are mostly healed. Tomorrow is Sunday. Make that today. Today is Sunday, and I believe I am long overdue for a meeting with my mum and my piano. I need to raise the issue of my education. Most people do not, indeed, they can not understand my passion and zeal for my area of interests. So let me try to capture my thoughts and emotions into words, although I'm afraid I might not do them justice. When I was younger, the piano was all I had. I withdrew from the world, I stopped speaking to people in general, and my friends were not of the good kind. Spending six to seven hours on the ivories was typical for me. My parents left me alone, because I wanted it that way. I would play from the moment the sun began to rise (thank God for understanding neighbours) until I had to go to school, and continue playing the instant I came home. It was my only comfort. If I shed tears while playing, if I was furious, only the piano would express that. But time and lack of practice has dulled my skills, and I regret that. I am trying to remedy that, and almost every waking minute is spent pining away for my piano. And I am beginning to lose hope that I will ever have it by my side, whenever I need a touch of old comfort. That piano has a lot of memories, and a lot of soul to it. My attachment to it is of such magnitude that I can scarcely put it into words. I don't know how, but I have to get it back. I know a lot of people look upon me as a wayward child. But they don't know me. Behind the facade of cold civility and emotional detachment is just a boy with a broken wing. Too many times, I have sat at the piano and played for hours, while tears fell into my lap. I disregarded them, because the music that emanated from the oneness of man and instrument calmed me, healed me. The keyboard that is my current substitute is dying. I cringe whenever the notes falter, and I know there will be no other. Yet...how can I explain all this to the women who I have been pushing further and further away? My mum messaged me yesterday. She wanted to ask me out, I know. But something made her hold back, and that something is me. My dad came over to Bedok yesterday. I was an internal mess, writhing in agony and longing. Just...I just want him to ruffle my hair and hug me. And tell me once more that I am his son. I spoke two words to him, and withdrew to the shadows, where I could see but remain unseen. He is thin and gaunt now, and I worry for him, for what is happening at home. I have to go home today, to both houses that I have neglected for a long time. My dad may not regard me as his son anymore, but I still care about him. And seeing him look so worn down jolted me out of my alabaster tower. I have luxuriated for so long playing the part of the spoilt prince, that I have forgotten exactly who it was that put me there in the first place. *shakes head* The waning of hope, and my dying illusions make for a bitter brew. I do not care. Let my illusions wane, and fade away to nothing. Return them to the shadows from whence they came. I stopped using the L word with my family nine years ago. I still won't use it, because it signifies weakness and I will not open my heart up only to be pierced again by disappointment. But there are other ways in which I can heal rifts, and I will not run anymore. As soon as the sun lights up the sky, I leave for home. Tomorrow, I will call on my dad and the cats that I miss so much. I have to see for myself. The moon is waxing towards full, and I hope everything positive will flourish as she does on her velvet throne. *clasps hands* I cannot make you understand, I know. (You being all the people who care about me) You believe I am an aimless bum, with no direction in life. But you are wrong. I need to do this, because it is something I have wanted all my life. It took me six years to get my first piano, and I possess a great deal of patience. It may perplex you to see that I am content to sit by and allow Opportunity to take his time and call on me whenever he pleases. But I am not sitting by quietly. Still waters run deep, I cannot reiterate that point enough. I have stilled my mind, banished most of my demons, thanks largely in part to Yushaa. I have found a new focus, and that is my interest in music, languages and philosophy. Perhaps I have taken too long to shift this into high gear, but I have already planned my life out, even if I do not speak of my plans. Understand that I will not remain forever under another's thumb, and that eventually I will carve a niche for myself in this cruel and heartless world. But to do that, I will need time, and patience. I have both, but I want understanding too, even if it is not needed for my solo flight. *bows* I hope my words illuminate the darkness that so many of you believe I represent. It is all I can give to you. For now.

Psychic Vampire

My euphoria over my stunning victory has faded. From being the mighty bringer of light, I fell into the shadows once more. But that's ok. I've said what has been burning in my heart all this while. Taking a gamble, I went for a social event after giong two days without sleep. Three is my maximum, and then I will collapse until my body has recharged itself. At the social event, the energy was a palpable source of positivity, and I drew on it, borrowing strength from the emotions of others. It is something I've done more often in the past. Time has dulled my need to do so, because sleep comes naturally to me these days. At least when my fragile state of harmony is not disturbed. But recent events have forced me to turn to my old ways, and while I do not regret it, I believe time has sharpened my instincts to a very fine point. At the chalet, we ran around like headless chickens while waterbombs flew left and right. Well, they ran around. I glided through the darkening house, absorbing what I could. Felines dotted the landscape, eyeing each other as they came across a shared territory. It was nice. Then Dominic came running past, in pursuit of Yushaa. He really looked like he was going to drench her, but at the last second he turned to me and splash! I was his latest victim. I got him back for it, twice turning his own weapons against him. My forte, actually. I didn't mind expending energy in the waterfight, because it was fun, and I got back more than I expended. I caught a glimpse of someone who made my heart accelerate. We'd just arrived (sorry, events listed on today's post are not in chronological order. It's in order of memory) and he was running past, soaking wet and glowing somehow. It's the radiance that shines from within that sparked my senses. I stood there, draped in blackness and brooding, letting my senses expand with the night, and this shining ray of light in human form sped past, carring of all things, a wok filled with water. Then he stopped, turned and smiled at us. (Phoebe was next to me) His very first words were, "Hi, you are?" It is extremely stupid to reveal one's true nature without first knowing what the other party's capabilities are. But I swear, as I stood there gawping at him, my mind went into deepfreeze. Which is why the next words that popped out of my mouth was, "Hi. You're Xavier right?" The expression on his face was...a mixture between stunned confusion. I didn't lose my cool, but I don't know how I knew his name. I'd never met these people before, but I couldn't stop...looking at him all night. Something, just something about him. I tried focusing on my emotions, and fed the cats diligently, even went out for a walk into the night to get liquor with Yushaa for the rest of us. It didn't distract me one bit. When we got back, he'd already changed out of his sopping wet clothes and was handling the barbeque pit like a pro. (Regardless of what anyone else says) I got thoroughly drenched, so I headed up for a shower and a fresh change of clothes. I ended up wearing TKGS shorts (thank you so very much, Janice), so micro-mini that it prompted Dominic to start giggling everytime he saw me. Then as the night wound down, we settled down to playing some weird card game that eventually got interesting. The liquor bottles were singing out to us, so we popped them open and started drinking. Somehow, the focus of the night was on gay and lesbian sex. Dominic and I were chattering away like squirrels, arguing over certain methods and fetishes, while the rest of them were rolling around in agony. So...*coughs* certain of my fetishes have come to light. We talked till the first light of dawn, and promptly overslept, causing chaos. Four of us were piled up on the bed: Phoebe, Yushaa, Surin, and I. Dominic slept on the floor, poor darling. Then we split up for home, and now here I am. Yushaa is asleep on the couch outside, and I'm planning what to feed her when she wakes up. I'm running on two hours of sleep for three days now, drawing more and more energy from all my known sources. So forgive me if the sentences in this post are a bit disjointed, and not written in my usual style. Too tired to divert energy to thinking and writing right now. Needless to say, I'm a psychic vampire. And I'm glad that I went for the chalet, and met some great new people. (Xavier!) God, I hope he doesn't read this.

Psychic Snapback

So much has happened. A mixture of both good and bad. I don't know if I want to talk about it, but it was not talking that nearly killed off my humanity. Drove me insane with the mental chaos, even if my illusions were in place to present a smooth, cool facade. After all these years...you still have the capacity to hurt me this badly. I'm not like you. I can't erase memories in the blink of an eye. I can't forget people just by turning my back on them. But my pain is tempered with the heat of anger. YOU of all people know what you did. I don't know how your conscience allows you to live that way, but then again...I'm not sure if you even have one. I still hate you for what you did, because it wasn't my darkness that drove you away. It was the one buried within your heart. I will never, as long as I live, do to another person what you did to me. You hurt me on our very first encounter at my house, when you came over on false pretences, and you hurt me when you left with nary a word. You still hurt me by denying the truth of what happened all those years ago. The least you could do was take responsibility for your actions. BUt you did not, you never have, you never will. I have changed my stance towards you. If you fall before me, I will do what you did. I'll turn around and walk away. You're not worth all this pain, it doesn't matter if people think I lied for whatever reasons you may have said. We both know what happened, and I will never ever speak of you again. You're just not worth it. You may have a new life, new friends, abandoned all your old ones, the people who care about you, but take it from someone who knows. You can't run from the phantoms of your past. You're just like the others from my childhood. I've not forgiven them, but at least they didn't add salt to my wounds by spreading malicious lies about me. *cries* I spent yesterday morning in tears. The same with today. I wish I could be like that. Just close my eyes, and erase the memories of what has happened to me, and the nightmares would cease. But I can't.

Psychic Resignation

Night healed me in her own way. I feel calm enough to take up my scythe and kill off what I know is already dying. I am light, I am shadow, I am both and I am everything that the two encompasses. The tears of blood are an endless river. I am resigned to my fate, because I know what will happen. Yesterday I found out something about my relationship with my father. I went home for a while, and revelations attacked me right and left. I am hurt, but I will not show it. I am dying, but I will not acknowledge it. Certain facts, certain truths...are better left unsaid. Suffice it to say that I feel betrayed, yet relieved that I had not opened my heart. I was about to, give or take a few more weeks, but then the cats decided to jump out of the bag. And therefore my heart is sealed once more. The skies are grey and lifeless, like a drowned corpse. I take no pleasure in watching light flood the earth. I know what must be done, even if it pains me to do it. I cannot allow myself to be hurt that way again. By anyone. I only have strength for this one last death. Regarding our conversation on the topic of religion...I had nothing to say because my feelings fluctuate irregularly. We are all looking for inner peace. I have sought for many years, in places both light and dark, and I have not found it. Perhaps I never will. The sun is weeping too, it seems. Golden tears that warm the hearts of the fallen. I have not lost a father, because I never had one. They were all men with their own agendas. Sex, love, whatever it was that they fancied I could give them. I am only a mere object subjected to the whims and fancies of these people. I will not cry for this perceived loss. I have no right to. I've been looking for love from all the wrong sources. I know why I am so attracted to father figures. Do I still need to spell it out? I cannot fog the truth anymore, because the darkness has grown too intense. I give to all the wrong people, and I take from all the right ones without returning the favour. *bows* Tomorrow will be the day that decides my fate. I will never look upon you as my fathers again. I have not lost, because I never had. My scythe feels heavy and unwieldy in my cold hand. *cries* Can I do this? Do I have the strength to? It was not I who put distance between us. As life drifts past me, and people drift away...I find that I have all I need within me. Does peace come from within or without? Answer me this, Gabriel. The minutes drag on...each one killing me that much more. A fresh wave of tears engulfs me. Why is it that I keep losing? I have loved, and I have lost. Yet I continue to lose without knowing why. I cannot control the strength of my emotions. 'Love'. The word sickens me to my very core. *shakes head* I cannot give myself away in person. It is who I am. The things I have gone through have made me wary of people in general, but I am beginning to trust once more. Today it is not fire that fills my veins, but a glacial calmness that crystallizes my tears into sparkling drops of ice. I may be losing everything that I hold dear, I may never be able to open my heart again, but in this room as sunlight filters through the barriers I have put in place, I feel a sense of calmness. It is the same calm I have witnessed on many a dying person. They who have found peace. At that time, I wept for them, not understanding what it was that they had gained. *sigh* I am truly resigned. I have cut off too many people in my quest to ease the burning pain that poisons my heart. I cannot explain myself to another, because I do not have the answers either. J...I tried. I waited two years for you to decide, and you have by your very indecision. To my fathers...there is nothing more to say. But I hope the apple falls far far far from the tree. And I am shadow once more, dark and ethereal.
The flawless illusion of contentment has vanished. But I am still here for those who seek.

Psychic Darkrising

Everytime I close my eyes, a picture will slowly take shape, the lines inking outward from a focal point, swirling and twisting to form a complete portrait that usually mirrors how I feel. Tonight, as I battle my usual pain, I close my eyes, and I see blacks and reds of different hues surrounding my physical self. It is almost smokelike, as it cloaks me, this darkness that rises. Blood runs out my open veins, trailing down my arms, multi-hued reds that give me colour among all the different blacks. A river of life, a river that kills me as it lives its final moments running freely down my body, its freedom bringing the kiss of death upon me. Fatally seductive, to watch as I stand with splashes of blacks and reds, smoke and life intertwining as I give my life up for this terrible beauty. It is morbid, I know. But understand this. My mind conjures up images whenever I close my eyes. And tonight, this is the dark and terrible beauty that it has presented me with. I am fascinated to see myself draped in my own blood and surrounded by darkness. I am witnessing my own death. And I am not frightened, or afraid, or remorseful. I am fascinated. Once, I was sitting through a draggy art class. I felt trapped, I felt caged, hemmed in among the students in my class. Everyone was busily working away on their charcoal sketches. I wrote this short but meaningful (to me) verse. Here it is.
Blood of magick willingly given. You will force the power to be risen.
Give rise to the winds, clouds now gather. Rain shall fall, lightning will shatter.
It reflects what I was feeling at that time, and the words were prophetic. *sighs* The sentences just flowed out from me. That was then, and this is now. The darkness that I wear around me these days is a tame kitten compared to the raging oceans of blackness that engulfed me back then. Why am I spilling such dark thoughts from the recesses of my soul? *ponders* I don't know, honestly. In my vision tonight, the darkness had a place to move, the blood that runs through me had an outlet. But as I sit here, I find myself growing increasingly restless and nursing a craving for either sex or alcohol. Maybe both at the same time, I don't really care. But on this night, as my vision skewers all illusions and I see the pathways that I could have taken, should have taken, and seen what could have been, the edges of my aura wilt and darken to an absolute black. Drifting through the crowd of humanity, listening to their words and seeing their characters...I felt really out of place. It was fun, it was nice. But I felt lonely, even though there were people everywhere. I was in the sea of humanity, but I felt like a fish out of water. Each Night sees me soaked in a little more darkness. How long more before I turn to my old ways? *shakes head* The moon is a crescent, a curved blade in the night sky. And every time I blink, every time I close my eyes, I see blades running down my flesh, drawing lines of blood that eventually converge to become a torrential river. Darkness swirls around me, spirits of Night that wreath me in different shades of black. I cannot fight both mind and body at the same time. My physical wounds are healing well, and right now I must tend to the psychic ones that have formed. I wanted to pray...but then, I am too darkened now to face the light. I wish to have them returned to me. And if push comes to shove, I suppose I can always rely on my bag of tricks to get me what I want. Still waters run deep, don't they? Right now, my mind is very very still, with only the haunting promises of my death to distract me. My thoughts have slowed, and finally stopped. It is time I retired to my corner and allow the nightmares to torment me next. I have died in my dreams many times, most of them in fights with supernatural beings of unknown category. My own experience with the deaths of others has allowed me the 'luxury' of crafting possible scenarios where I die. Unfortunate to have a mind so active. Tsktsk. Still, it is both gift and curse. It is time I harnessed the darkness that swirls around me, instead of letting it dissipate into the cold night air. *rolls up sleeves* Waste not, want not. I will no longer turn to beings of light for help. I have dealt with much worse on less experience. I am older, and wiser now. And all my skills are still intact. Time to go practice. (It is telling that my affinity with felines has returned on this very night.)

Psychic Breezes

As I watch the first threads of pink tinge the velvet bed of night, I feel the fires that were raging in me dying down to embers. No one deserves to bear the full brunt of my fiery rage, least of all the people who have set aside a special place for me within their hearts. So it is with regret that I apologise for those that I have hurt on this blog, intentional or otherwise. *sighs* It has been a very difficult weekend. Friday went down the pooper, and I abandoned all my responsibilities for Saturday. My eyes are still red, but the dark anger within me has subsided. The tornado of emotions has slowed down to a gentle breeze. I wanted to go home yesterday...was already dressed and standing in front of the door. Then I changed my mind, stripped and lay down in my corner. It is no one's fault that I sit on this cool morning alone, with only the mists of dawn to be my companions. J's betrayal has finally been revealed to me in full. His very absence is a testament to his deceitful promises. *shakes head* It is sad, but I made my own choices. And I pay the price for my own mistakes. I have enough presence of mind to know that, at the very least. I feel calm today, knowing that no matter what happens, it is I who hold the reins to my life. No matter which direction I go, or where I end up, it will be based only on my decisions. I influence my own destiny. Perhaps I can borrow the light of the stars and illuminate the darkness. *muses*
Right now I foresee another firestorm brewing. I'll just sit back and enjoy the quiet tranquility for a few more moments before I rush headlong into the fray and decimate the demons of illusion.

Psychic Eruption

As the sun lights up the horizon, my eyes redden and my aura darkens even more. All the buried rage, the resentment...the anger. They're surfacing, like dead bodies to a necromancer's call. My heart is erupting with emotion, and I fear that this Vesuvius within me will destroy any chance I have of redemption.
Rage filters its way through my veins...thick and vile, a poisonous sludge.
I am beyond angry. With myself. J was never worth it Was he?. A living doll, he was beautiful to look at, to touch. And he was mine for eight months. *cries* If I close my eyes right now, I can feel the cloud of darkness that is my shield against the world. Yes. I resent everything that has happened. I resent having trusted so much in people who eventually left me alone in this dark place. I resent the fact that my skills are degrading by the minute because I refuse to go home. I resent the fact that my aunt is one money-minded b*tch. I resent the fact that she is totally tactless, and insensitive, and rude and unrefined. I mean...come on! For Pete's sake, you're a bloody woman! Can't you act like it? I don't care if she is too dense to ever understand the beauty that so enchants me, the beauty of the written word, the beauty of music, the beauty of wisdom. I am dying. Everyone out there is busy chasing their dreams, sliding up and down the rainbow and rolling around in the pot of gold. I don't care, really I don't. But I also know the world will not allow me to live in a beautiful garden with a grand piano and the souls of the great philosophers to accompany me. On days like this, I feel for every living creature. It is on days like this that I cry over trees, that my empathy for others increases a hundredfold. Walk me through a hospital now, and I will collapse from the sheer pain that I know the dying suffer. No one knows how many times I sat in the hospital cafeteria as a child, feeling people suffer around me. I cried for them, I prayed for them, I talked to them. I know what I go through is nothing compared to a million other people, but then again...I'm only asking for what I love to be returned to me. All that I have loved, all that responds to my touch and mine only...come back. My piano, my best friend Seif, the golden days with my cherished friends, my only love J, my works of art, the people and things that I love and care about. It's just so hard to go home right now. I'm facing my daddy today. Everytime I stay over, he'll clock in way too many overtime hours, and avoid me for as long as possible. Everyone I've touched leaves me disillusioned. It is my fault. It is that core of darkness within me that I bear, the one that spreads to those that I love. J...I know you still read the words that pour forth from my heart onto this blog. If you truly meant what you said those few years ago, please come back. You know where I am. I'll always be here. I can put up a front, be brave and rely on my illusions to fool those who care about me and think I'm wasting my time with this guy. But on this day, on this morning when my tears catch the sunlight, when I'm feeling so vulnerable...let it be known. I will only love J.
R, Z, X...all those other alphabets. Even the new guy. They don't matter. The only one who does is the one who no longer remembers what colour my eyes are. So many tears...for all these people that I love. So many secrets that threaten to rip my mind apart. Guarding them has already fragmented my soul enough that people who get close fear me. I'll admit it, I'll shout it out to the whole world. I am capable of monstrous darkness.
I can hurt, I can maim with a few choice words. I fear neither mortal man nor immortal beast, demonic or divine. I do not fear death. I'm sorry, Azrael. But I don't fear you. What I do fear...is losing another person I love. I fear death not for myself, but for the relationships that I still try to keep alive. I cannot keep up...I cannot do this anymore. I want my piano within my reach. I want J back, as he was. I want the people I love to know that I love them, and that I would never willingly hurt them. I want them to know...that I can never truly let anyone in. It pains me to say this, but no one really knows what I am, or what I am capable of. Regardless, no matter how darkened I am, even if there is no more light left in my heart...I will never willingly hurt those I love. My mind is beginning to awaken. With it comes all the responsibilities that being me entails. As I go down on my knees to pray...I hope I'll get what I need to feel at peace. I don't know if I deserve it...but I do dream of having peace for myself. It is one of my most cherished visions. Please, Raphael, angel of healing and music. Return to me what was lost through forces beyond my control. Angels were made in the light of God's love. And truly, what I feel for all of them...everyone...it is love. Please return what I need to be whole. J, come back. *cries* I'm sorry I hurt you. I still love you. I don't understand it myself, this emotion cannot die. But I love you. And I cannot deal with the pain alone anymore. I've done everything else alone. I've lived alone, I've fought alone against an entire army of hellish men, I've faced my own demons nightly alone. I don't want to be alone anymore. Will you come and hold me for just a few moments of peace that I so desperately want?

Psychic Weight

Ever had that sensation...when you spun and spun with your arms outstretched? The feeling of exhilaration, coupled with the sense of freedom in such a simple action...you feel like you can fly, but at the same time, you know you can fall at any moment. *sigh* I dreamt of him, of everyone who has moved on away from the gleaming palaces of my creation. Perhaps there truly are messages hidden within dreams after all. It seems like everyone's running away from reality recently, and I don't know why. Cutting off ties with friends and family, to heal the wounds that aren't visible to anyone except themselves. *sigh* I called my mum two nights ago on her cell at night. She was busy, apparently. Told me to call her back in ten minutes. From the subtle inflections in her tone, I could tell she was dealing with a crisis at home. I never did call her back. I have not stepped out of the house for three days now. I don't know if I have the strength to face the suffocating stress that oozes out of the pores of the average human being. Imagine being in a crowd right now. *grimaces* I have many bridges left to mend, but I've run out of willpower. Every person who has dealt with the supernatural knows that willpower is everything. Without it, you're just another mortal with interesting stories and fairytales. I don't know...right now I suppose I should go dress up and pay my long overdue obeisance to Mother Earth. They have trimmed the trees outside my window yet again, and I hate the sight of those bare trunks. *sigh* It is Friday, and I wonder if perhaps...I ought to visit a place of peace. I woke up at 5am, and spent an hour wrangling with a malfunction in one of my more important programs. There is no more food at home, and I don't really fancy instant noodles all that much. The skies are grey and dull today, adding on to the psychic weight I'm already carrying. I've revisited my past in my dreams, and I wonder if I should feel relieved or disturbed that my mental barriers against my repressed memories are finally breaking down. The human mind usually knows when it is ready to deal with subconscious terrors, and I suppose this is a sign that mine has strengthened itself enough to start sifting through the memories that I've fought to suppress for so long. I don't know yet if I want to start dealing with all the phantoms. I've banished some, yes, and purged my soul of most of the hatred and the resentment. But the pain lingers on, as do the questions that burn within my heart. It is odd, but I truly feel a connection to those whose hearts I have touched. The house stands empty and silent, with only my thoughts to accompany me. I am tired and hungry, but I yearn for the company of one whose soul is pure. Perhaps this is what all we who have fallen are cursed with. Corrupted and darkened, we hunger for the light only an untainted soul can emanate. Like moths to a flame, we are attracted to what will destroy us. Dark thoughts for a gloryless day. *sigh* I don't know what I am to do with myself. I feel like all the energy has been sapped out of me, swirling away down the great cosmic drain. Most mornings when I witness the sun reclaim his celestial throne from his traitorous lunar queen, I feel a sense of hope and relief from the darkness that constantly enshrouds me. But this morning I just feel tired, even though I've gotten a rare night's sleep. Well, I am not entirely powerless. I can whip up a sunny blend of ingredients that can lift the mood of even the most darkened demon. The sale of two of the more powerful objects in my dwindling collection of artifacts has been rescheduled to Saturday. Tomorrow. I have no more use for them, and hopefully with this sale, I can finally complete one of my fragmented sets.
I call upon Uriel, archangel of light and the flame of God to lend us some light on this dark and gloomy day.

Psychic Blah

I am oh so exhausted. I have been battling demons on battle.net for half the night, and suddenly my dead phone decided to lock my notepad and deny me access to my own notes. Oh the indignity! I have been panicking for close to an hour now, and I still can't get the bloody thing to unlock! All my thoughts and stories are stored in that bloody contraption! Oh, damn it. I have serviced the phone at least three times already, and each time was painful because all the data inside was wiped out. Don't tell me this is a sign, because for once...I DON'T CARE! MY MESSAGES!!!! MY WORDS!!! I should have transferred them...should have made backup copies just in case. Yeah. 'Should haves' are really nice and all in hindsight...but completely useless. *bangs phone on table* Oh, work you stupid moronic invention! OH! OH! Houston, we have a signal! It lives!! It's ALIVE!!! Muahahahaha! *continues banging phone on table* STAY alive...STAY alive! Oh, son of a nutcracker. -_- It's not responding. No...wait. It just takes a longer time to respond...oh, yeah. My phone's definitely male. =_= *cries* How do I get myself into these fixes? *muses* Now while we wait for this blasted heart-attack inducing blood-pressure busting thingamajig to respond...I must say, the night was a very productive one, if you're interested in the occult aspect of life. I was reading something, when a passage jumped at me and started screaming in my face. It was about Arabic mythology, and the relative hierarchy of demons. Intrigued, I read on further...and realised that the Arabic word "djinn" and the English word "genie" are not at all related. Yeah, go look it up. I'm too lazy to type it all out. Suffice it to say that my interest in the nocturnal arts have finally been rekindled. Since my friends have probably grown bored of me spouting on about angels and light and goodness and all that...a little darkness probably couldn't hurt. *smirks* So I dug out all my occult material and started refreshing my knowledge on the darker aspects of magick. Demonology, specifically. I pride myself on my vast collection of grimoires and tomes that pertain to the occult. Dark, heavy reading matter, but it is so intriguing. Half of them are in Latin, and most come with the warning 'Do not read or say the invocations/names/spells/ aloud'. After having danced around in the light for a few days, I'm starting to feel relieved that I'm back in the comforting embrace of my old friend darkness. Whoa. I have 106 messages on my phone. That's why it's acting up. It flooded my phone yesterday morning. It's from H. =_= Get the hint already, would you? I don't want to go. I won't go. You can't make me! Sheesh. Deleting all of them is a bitch.~
Ten minutes later~
There we go. Messages and stories/thoughts are safe. Now I think I'll reward myself with a little shut-eye. Crawling into my corner has never been so appealing, nightmares be damned. Well...tata. (Forgive my 'highness' today, because I had a little too much happy)
...and Michael answered my psychic call.

Psychic War

The day was gloomy, with dull grey skies. Excellent for a walk down the reservoir, but I was trapped in my own nightmares. Gifted with supernatural abilities, and cursed with a whole plethora of supernatural foes. I remember using a lot of Latin in my dreams. I'm not surprised that I'm fighting demons even in my subconscious. There was one pivotal moment when I switched from Latin to a more archaic language, and suddenly all the dark beings fled from me. I won't disclose what that language was, but I am very surprised to find that it made a difference. Of course, dreams are dreams, and nothing conclusive can be drawn from them anyway. I awoke at 7 with mixed feelings. I have just signed my own death warrant, I know. But then again...I am living my life the way it should be. My anger towards her is bubbling like a cauldron on high. The resentment is nothing new. The anger isn't surprising, considering the simplicity of what I intend to do. It is her who complicates things, and I have not quite decided what to do. Of course, I can be extremely cold when necessity dictates it, and my attitude toward her has been nothing short of arctic. I don't care, really. I suppose I shouldn't have expected too much. Rude, uncouth, unrefined, loud, annoying. There. I said it. Not to mention the fact that my skills as an illusionist have been tested time and again. I don't mind the constant attempts to peek into my multi-faceted life, because I make certain I cover my own back, but the intrusion annoys me. *stunned* Oh...my....God. The perfect solution has just struck me! Proverbial lightning bolt, I see. It is extreme, sure. Vindictive, perhaps. But it will vindicate me. I have to start packing. I can't believe I hadn't seen this. So simple...and therein lies the beauty, and the ingenuity! Goodness. And I'm supposed to have a working brain up there. *smacks head* Of course, I have to use my foresight to predict what will ripple outwards from my move. But as all chess players know, it is a necessary sacrifice. I have been uncontactable for a while, and I will remain that way for some time to come. I have to make sure I have all the essentials while putting my masterplan into action. If this is what I have to do to prove my worth, then consider it done. I will not be moved. My fiery feelings towards her must be saved for the final confrontation, when my heat will render all veils and illusions useless. For those who stand outside the battlefield, you may not understand my conviction when it comes to this ongoing war. For those who stand even further back, you may not even understand what I'm talking about. But for the players in this game, the warriors in this fight, it will make all the difference in the world. And for me, the master manipulator, this is one puppet show that I own. I have every right to be furious, to rage away like an unleashed volcano after months of dormant silence. Besides, I never stand up for myself, do I? If the one time I decide to do so, I am judged harshly, then so be it. As long as the general populace understands that what I have marked as my territory is not to be trespassed upon. I have disappointed R, I know that even without my preternatural senses. But right now, I have more pressing issues to deal with. I bow my head, knowing that I may never find redemption. Each day is a battle, and I invoke Michael's protection as I march into the battlefield with only my heart and my beliefs.
Sancte Michael Archangele,
defende nos in proelio.
contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.
Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur:
tuque, Princeps militiae coelestis,
Satanam aliosque spiritus malignos,
qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo,
divina virtute, in infernum detrude.

Psychic Sunlight

I have witnessed dawn in all its glory, and now golden rays warm my flesh, healing me with the Sun's touch. The moon has fallen away from the heavens, and now the Sun watches as the world begins to awaken. I am one of the privileged few, for my immunity to Night has not faded, and Sleep has given me up as a lost cause. Therefore I have watched as the golden rays peek over the horizon, lightening the celestial palace from black velvet to a lighter blue hue, and finally pink streaks. And now sunlight has flooded the earth, and birds and flowers sing praises of their solar king. Today is Sunday, and I am thankful for that, because it means the stress that usually clots the air will be absent on this fine, golden morning. The air is fresh, cool and comforting, and a light layer of mist hangs over the field opposite my window. The trees are green and vibrant, living emeralds draped on trunks of brass that touch my heart. I love plants. Right now, their leaves are frosted with the morning dew that I used to believe were hung by nocturnal fairies before they vanished into the earth. Everything is shining and golden with hope and contentment, and I feel so gloriously blessed and happy. The past few days have been rather trying for me, what with having to deal with a demonic boss, and the pain my friends were experiencing. But on this wonderfully invigorating morning, I am so thankful that the golden king is spreading hope through his warm, healing rays. I could dance among the sunbeams, with the flowers and birds as my court and orchestra. On days like this, I am the brightest angel on earth, and capable of loving everything and everyone. I can heal the wounded, and I am hope and joy incarnate. My shadows have fled before the light, but I know they will return once Night rises. =) Still, there is this beautiful day that calls out to me. 'Live, love, be happy,' the sunlight sings. The birds echo the sentiment, and I believe I will join them in their heavenly song. Rejoice, humanity, for the beauty of the earth is visible to those who choose to look.

Psychic Cleansing

There are many varied meanings to the word 'cleansing'. Tonight, it means I've thrust the darkness away, and focused on cleansing my body and soul. I am still bleeding, and I fear the wounds are turning gangrenous, for the flesh surrounding the damaged tissue is turning a deep purplish-black. I have lifted the dead skin that covers the tender flesh underneath, and it hurts like the very devil himself. The flow of blood has stopped for today, and I have cleaned the affeted areas as best as I can, but there are still areas I cannot reach, due to the angle and my lack of flexibility. I can bend quite well, but not that way. I cannot cut the skin away, firstly because I do not know the area that should be removed, and I fear that any more trauma to the area would be detrimental. This, I suspect, is the primary reason why I got poisoned. My mobility is not severely impaired, partly because I believe I can ignore the stabbing pain to a certain degree. The wound on my back has healed completely, and the cuts across my chest have healed, and the scars are fading slowly. But these two plague me, and I do not know how to heal them. It has been months, and I fear they are getting worse. I refuse to see a doctor, and hopefully they will close and fade given more time. J has not abandoned me after all, and R has been rather persistent in getting me to meet up with him for lunch. We both know that our chosen time of 1:30pm in a crowded location is an attempt on his part not to get tangled up in my already messy sex/love life. Whether that attempt will succeed remains to be seen, because despite my misgivings, I wish to remain updated on Alex and Dennis. It was I who destroyed their 2 year relationship, partly because of Alex's stubborn refusal to see truth, and Dennis' incredible short-sightedness when it came to what Alex and I were doing behind his back. I had not expected Dennis to walk out on Alex, and the months that followed were torturous for all of us. Dennis is still seething now, years after my reign as the demonic lover in school. He looks really good now, and he's already graduated from JC, gravitating towards the degree I'd always known he was striving for, despite his claims to the contrary. We crossed paths at our former school, and his eyes narrowed in recognition. I felt trapped, but there were the formalities to acknowledge. A smirk played on his lips, and I felt even worse. There are a thousand apologies that have died on my tongue in my 19 years of life, and the apology that I owe Dennis is great indeed. I met Alex a few months ago. He was with, surprise, surprise...a girl! Our gazes met and firmed, and then I turned away and returned to my book, ignoring the questioning look he fired my way. The bus was packed, but Fate decided to place us within reach of each other. But he understood the frost in my body language, and he returned to his conversation with the unknown lady next to him, occasionally shooting me unfathomable glances. That is the only time I've seen him since I moved, and although my heart calls out to him, I know it will only be a temporary fix. Alex was my willing first, and he'd already stepped smartly out of my life the day I transferred to Yuying. But I will always remember and secretly cherish the days when he would escape from his commitments to Dennis to take me to his house, only a minute's walk from mine. He taught me all the skills that I now possess, from my first kiss, to playing Rondo Alla Turca and everything else in between. What he did not teach he enhanced. Of course, back then I was a destructive devil, and I triggered apocalypse in our otherwise calm and quiet school environment. Oh, my regrets are many. Perhaps someday...I will be offered a chance to cleanse my soul of all the vile acts I have committed. But until that day arrives, I will continue my oscillation between light and dark, like a pendulum doomed to swing back and forth until the skies collapse. I was offered a chance at partial redemption by an unexpected source, someone both J and I disliked back in school. But now H has extended a hand to me, and I will not allow something as foolish as pride and resentment to bind me to the shadows forever. The winds swirl around me, knocking over everything small and light, touching my young body with coolness. Closing my eyes, I think I can faintly see Heaven, and the entire host of angels smiling down at me. Perhaps they too are glad that after so many days of darkness, I am willing to step out into the light. Tomorrow will mark another milestone in my life. It will be the first time I have sacrificed something I hold dear to me for someone I feel nothing for. As I have explained before...cleansing has many meanings. And I will continue trying to cleanse my relationships of the dark taint of corruption from the times when darkness veils me in shadow. I will return to my quiet contemplation and wonder if he ever remembers the first touch, the first kiss, and the fragrant scent of a beautiful first love.

Psychic Timeline

Blood flows freely from me tonight. I cannot staunch the flow, but I know it will congeal on its own. I hurt both inside and out, and I wonder why my lunar companion has vanished to. Her celestial throne is empty, and only the stars are left to lend me some light. I was reading his words, and suddenly I was struck by a burst of empathy. Here's an excerpt: "I can never stand up for myself. I was always too intimidated; I could do it for others, but not for me." It struck a chord in me, and suddenly the tears are rising to my eyes. Emotion empowers me, particularly when it is a strong one, and seeing his pain has invoked a fresh surge of energy within me. I feel cold inside, and I have never been colder, or sharper. I do not know yet if I regret my harshness, but...oh God. This boy, this man has grown up to be so much more than who he used to be. We both hide our insecurities and perceived flaws by picking petty fights that are meaningless to us most of the time, and only serve to distract the ones who care about us, prevent them from getting too close. My solitude and affinity with the night has gifted me with the luxury of examining my self, my soul, my life past and present. I was not asleep, but the images in my head kept replaying themselves like a nightmare I can't seem to wake up from. I've only spoken about my demons face to face with one person in all my 19 years of life. Esther. She knew the length and breadth of my soul, she knew that there are still things hidden deep within me that I cannot dredge up, no matter how much she tried to dig. I recall the number of times she tried to get me to open up, with the scent of her perfume lingering on in the cool air like a friendly spirit. How she bought me meals in the hope that I would eat. Slowly...ever so slowly, I began to tell her bits and pieces. My fragmented sentences were complex puzzle pieces that would have made any cryptographer proud. The fights, the police reports made, the terrifying mix of fear and anger that I always carried within my breast. I never ever showed emotion to her. I spoke of my emotions in cold and clinical terms. Even when we dwelled at length on the horrors of my past that she knew of (to a certain extent), I kept a calm exterior. She read my journals, written in French and Spanish. I believe they are still in my possession, in one of the boxes of memories that I hoard. The next day, she set my journals on the table, leaned forward and caught my eye. I was unwilling to see what was lurking there, shadows that I knew were created by learning of the darkness that haunted my past. But I couldn't look away. That was the only time I have ever come close to crying in front of her. She tried to reach out to me, but I ran again. I didn't want anyone else to see the pain etched in every painful memory lurking in my history. I moved, and I changed schools. I never saw her again, although I badly wanted to. I don't know...I understand that it is high time I banished some of the demons that intrude on my peace of mind. I tried to return to where it all started...in Yishun, the infamous 666 block. I remember all the emotions that swirled around me as a child. Even then, I was skilled at hiding my emotions. The nightmares started about then. It has continued ever since, and sometimes...I wonder who am I really? The scared little boy intimidated by every man who towers over him, the angsty teenager haunted by his past...who am I really? Perhaps one day...I can truly forgive and forget. Right now, the memories still pain me. I came face to face with one of them a few years ago. I looked at him, and then I walked away. I still remember, he was clutching a bag of groceries. He looked stricken when he saw me, he recognised me after all these years. My parents, oblivious to my past, stayed behind to talk to him. The years have made me what I am. There are reasons for every little quirk in my character, and if I make a mistake...then I'm sorry. I'm not new to anger, or fear, or fights. But I am new to love, to family bonds, to caring, to showing emotion. It might seem surprising, or even hard to believe that someone who can write pretty well is incapable of expressing emotion face to face. I'm still learning how to be me, you know? It is only recently that I have overcome my instinct to flinch whenever someone touches me. Heck, I even spent an entire day bottomless when my close friends came over. There was a time not too long ago when a boy who brushed my ass got his face punched. There was a time not long ago when my own best friend Kelly could not hug me because I was too afraid. That time is over, but I still marvel at the differences between now and then. I did not speak to Kelly for a whole year because she could not understand why I didn't want to be touched. Nor could I explain to her the precise reason why either. She cried when I called her a year later, late at night, and we both broke down. By that time, our graduation was a breath away, and I had another bad break in love. Our last time together was at the hotel where half our class was camping out. Kenneth was there, and so was Seif. That was the last time the four of us came together. She left for America soon after. C never spoke much to me again after we parted ways. What was there to say? He gave up everything to be with me, and I couldn't give him what he truly wanted: my trust. Everytime we'd snuggle, he's whisper and ask me why. Why couldn't I do it? I know I'm the reason for most of the catastrophes that occur at least once weekly. I will never forget the one moment he gazed into my eyes as the dying sun anointed us with his solar blessing, and C whispered the one sentence that still rings clear as a bell to this day. "Love is not something you should be afraid of." The whole world came to an abrupt standstill, and all that mattered was his heartbeat, his words, his warmth, his nearness. It is true, love isn't something to be feared. But I still fear it enough to run from it everytime it threatens to touch my heart. Maybe that saying 'people fear what they do not understand' has within it a grain of truth after all. *sigh* Dark thoughts, deep thoughts for the morning of an excellent job interview. Oh, did I forget to mention that? *innocent* Yes, I have a job interview today at 2pm. If I get it, it will be the easiest 1k ever earned. Sigh. The circle spins, the earth turns and another day is lost. I'm rebuilding burnt bridges, and making connections between past and present...but still I wonder...who am I? Fuzzy, the dependable friend you can count on when you need some light? Faiz, the terribly troubled kid so gifted at darkness that Ol' Nick would be jealous? Or just simply 'the kid', terrified by demonic adults? I have wondered for years, and never gotten a definite answer. The night is fleeing from the chariots of dawn. *sigh* I suppose it won't do to show up with disheveled hair and vampiric eyes. C wasn't lying when he said he'd be busy. He hasn't had time for me...or anyone else. *sigh* Another crisis going off in my head. He's trying to break into the scene, and I doubt he's having much success. I can't help him, and right now with the frost in my heart...I doubt I want to. Time for me to wind down, and allow my mind some rest before the hectic preparations of tomorrow. Humanity, I have joined you in the mad rush to fulfil material wants. *hangs head* There are gems hidden within dirt. There are facts hidden within lies. There is light hidden within me.

Psychic Seething

The day was ok, pretty nice actually. Cool windy breeze fluffing through the trees, clear azure skies. Then night fell, and with it came her own brand of darkness. "Why has your mum not called me?" was the clear message on my cellphone. Sighing, I called my mum up on my cellphone and it doesn't take a genius to understand that we were both controlling our fiery tempers. She has been avoiding the issue at question for a very very long time. And I of all people know how well my mum can evade and parry. The usual excuses..."I've been busy...you know your dad's been sick." Yeah, I get it. Here's a newsflash...it takes less than a minute to dial a phone number. I don't know why pride runs so deep in my family. Disagreements can stretch up to years. Sure, I resent. Hell, right now I'm simmering and ready to rip someone's head off. But I try my darndest not to let ill feelings fester and grow cancerous. Eventually it will destroy a relationship, as my love life has taught me. You say you wish to talk to me, fine. I have planned everything out meticulously, and if need be, I will pull out all stops to see that my one simple requirement is met. I say nothing about the constant invasions of my privacy. I hate it when people try to intrude into my personal space. But I have allowed such trangsressions to pass, and I have turned the other cheek. But in this I'm afraid I must insist. I do not have much time left...and before my star burns out, I wish to ensure that I have perfected what I know I can be good at. Potential is nothing without practice. And really, after two years, I think it is high time I wrought some change in this stagnant cesspool my life has become. It starts with a simple yes from both parties. A change in arrangements will probably be beneficial too. My temper has reached breaking point in this situation. I am still trembling, trying to rein in the heat that has gripped my heart. You say you wish to have a talk with me, but you end up slamming the door in my face. There are certain etiquettes in civil conversation, and door slamming, I'm sure, is a major no-no. Faux pas, maman. I cannot reiterate this point enough. I may not have the shining certificates most students have. I may not possess qualifications that will impress a rocket scientist. There are only two things I'm good at that are worth mentioning. Language, and music. Plain and simple, cold hard facts for those of you who are so steeped in science you like everything laid out in empirical evidence. I am crafting small pieces of writing, and knowing that I have a wicked sense of writing flair helps because, let's face it, no one wants to read a story that reads like a Britannica. Given the many controversies that surround my every move, I'm sure I'll have no problem selling novels, even if I have to sit by the roadside to peddle handwritten copies. That's besides the point, people! I'm good, I can write. But I am also good at the piano, I can master pieces that take people days to figure out. I can improvise extremely well, but at the same time...this skill has been on a steady decline because I'm just so tired of the fights that erupt whenever I return home to practice on my piano. And no, I will not give up the money that I have in reserve for the move. Consider my account frozen until further notice. It is for my piano, not for material things like clothes or food. I will find a way to make ends meet, but that money has been explicitly set aside for my piano. I am running out of time, people. I'm not kidding. No one knows it, I have not acknowledged it to either friends or family, but I know it. Deprive me of food, dress me up in rags, I don't give a damn. But when it comes to this subject that lights a spark within me, I will have to insist that for once, do it my way. I cannot go home just to play the piano. You're keeping it for all the wrong reasons. You cannot bind me against my will. I'm not depriving anyone of anything except my presence, and really...why is that a bad thing? It irks me to find that obstacles in my path are just silly nonsensical fabrications created by the human mind. As an illusionist, I am impressed. But as a person deprived of the one thing that sustains me and gives me hope...it just annoys the hell out of me. I don't care if your pride gets in your way of apologising to someone you've hurt just because you were PMS-ing. The fountain of apologies will start now, and just to prove to you how much I really want the piano here and the incessant fighting to cease, I will make the first move. Many revelations will ripple out from my one move, and I have to say...I really don't care what else happens because I only want my piano. Simple. I. Want. My. Piano. There. Kids these days have certificates, education. I'll be the first to admit I have no formal education past O's. I don't follow the herd, but I'm no shepherd either. I'm a lone wolf. I scavenge, I pick my own path, I've lived for the most part for myself. But recently I've found myself starting to care for others, even if I can never admit it to their faces. But guess what? I do care. I care about Yushaa. Very very much. Phoebe, Elina. Amin even. I've seen that guy in pain, and believe you me, that is one very unpleasant experience because I didn't know how to ease his pain. I care about Kenneth deeply, Yzanne, Gina, Yiling, Melissa. I even care for Zheng Jie, distant as he is. I care. You won't see this sentiment echoed again in such detail on the rest of my blog. I don't say it. But it is there all the same, the way something as intangible as air surrounds you unseen. I don't know how I feel about my family, extended or otherwise. Don't ask me again, because right now....right here, I'm telling you...I don't know. Heck, I'm new to all this emotional stuff. I cry, yeah. But until recently, my only outlet for my frustrations were the pen and my piano. I'm still trying to figure out how much you can need a person, where all the invisible lines that define boundaries are. I never want to see the people I care about in pain. Because, fuck. It hurts to see that they're hurting. And sometimes, more than once, I silently wish I could absorb that pain, take it all for myself, bear their burdens when it seems they've taken all they can. But I can't. I'm no angel. I'm only me, and I don't even know what that word means right now. ME. All I have are my fingers and mind and soul that allow me to be who I am, a pianist, a wickedly funny person, a versatile writer capable of delving into a wide sea of subjects. That is all I have. Against the whole world of degree holders, and an entire army of graduates, do you honestly think I can survive? Even I know I can't. So before the world catches up with me, let me have a few moments of peace with my instrument and my thoughts. Because when it does, I can promise you...I am not Atlas. I cannot bear the weight of the world, and I will collapse. I have only one request. Take away anything you want, except my friends and my skills. These are the only two treasures that I will guard fiercely and jealously. That is all. I am still seething, but I'm starting to calm down. I believe it is time to start planning a strategy, because if it's one thing I do not know, it is defeat. I may fall, yes. But each time I have risen from the dust, and this time is no different. The shadows still blanket me in velvet, but I have spawned a light of my own.

Psychic Striations

Well...from dark to light, and all the shadowy hues in between. I'd forgotten how much music soothes me, and playing the piano can ease my pain. That'd be much easier to do if my piano was in closer proximity to me. But I'm done sulking. I've decided to hone my skills with words. Specifically, the English language. My French is proficient enough. It can stand some rusting. The eternal dance of the sun and the moon manifest themselves through my emotions. Went through the motions of alcohol and overdose the past few days. I'm surprised I managed to regain consciousness at all. What with R calling, I should have knocked back a few more. *shrugs* I don't know. Some days I feel so light, I am a veritable ray of light floating through the world lending my shine to those who've fallen. Other days, I feel so terribly dark and moody I scare the socks off anyone who has the misfortune to cross my path when I'm spitting lightning bolts and my claws are unsheathed. The darkness wells up time and again, and always my defenses are in place to hold it at bay. But sometimes I wonder...what if for once...it escapes my loose hold? Well, few have ever known the answer to that and spoken to me about the life-scarring event. A momentous occurence, I'm sure. Anyway...the darkness inherent in me has receded slightly, and suddenly I find the light does not irritate me as much. Everyone keeps alluding to my talents, and exhorting me to put them to good use...but then...so what if I have a good grasp of language? So what if I can read notes and play them? I can't find any school that is willing to accept me on account of two commonplace abilities. My pen-is mightier than the sword! Even Arthur and his fabled Excalibur have no chance against said artifact. =P Notice how I deliberately hyphenated the two words, so that I can't be accused of twisting completely normal words into perverse meanings. I'm taking up the pen again...and writing furiously. To everyone that I have locked outside my cage, I'm sorry, but I needed some downtime to sort out the mess that some people like to call a life. Alcoholic binges don't help, I know that. I'm not an idiot, regardless of my actions whether drunk or otherwise. But at the very least...I managed to spend two days mostly unconscious and therefore immune to the mighty god Depression. And now that I've regained a tiny portion of my spark, I have decided it is time I healed the wounded to balance out my karmic account. *shrugs* I've decided to go home tomorrow and grab this bull by the horns. Parents, look out, because I am on a roll. By the time I am done, you will both be talking again, and if I hear the slightest hint of dissent, heads will roll. Because I am tired of people zooming past me as though I am invisible. Here are my wishes, plain and simple. No frills, no loopholes. I want my piano. Period. Non-negotiable point. I must have paper, pen, my piano. As much as I need air to breathe. Those are what sustains my soul. I don't need food all that much, I eat when I feel like it (I am not anorexic please) but these three things I must have. My feelings regarding the evils of money are mixed and varied. I probably wouldn't need it all that much anyway, as long as my basic needs are met. Considering how I'm spending all my money on my piano, it should give you an indication of how important music is to me. Without my usual six hours on the piano, my skills are beginning to rust, as today's expedition to the Esplanade proved. This must be remedied immediatement. Therefore, I need my piano and very little else. Simple request. If necessity demands it, I will draw up a schedule of when I am to return to the soil of my origin. I will not mince my words, in the spirit of brutal honesty and all that. I don't want to go home. Where I have to compete with everyone for some breathing space. In that cramped kingdom, power struggles are commonplace. I have therefore bowed out of the endless battles between all the major powers, and moved on. I have created my own kingdom here with the darkness as my escorts and companions. Now I grow weary of the shadows, and I long for the warmth only a piano can bring to me. This move has been dragging on for a long time because of my reluctance to step up to the plate. I will wait no longer. I can bloody write, and when I am not writing, I would expect one to find me seated at the piano honing my skills. Pen, paper, piano. The three essentials that I need to keep myself balanced. That is all that my soul needs for peace. Now...my mind needs peace too. I want my parents to talk to each other again. I recognise the problem lies with my mum and her explosive temper (fire runs in our family) but I can not for the life of me think of how to put it across in a subtle non-accusatory manner. I've been calling her at least once a day, trying to get her to call my other 'rent. I'm not speaking to my dad, because of stupid reasons. Mostly because we keep missing each other's attempts to reconnect and regain lost ground. *shakes head* That's not the problem. My mum has already given her okay to move the piano...it's the other one who's on shaky footing. *sigh* I am...unique, non? I have at last count...2 mums and 3 dads, biological folks not inclusive. Sometimes it's just so hard trying to keep everyone on terra firma. Ok, I'm done blabbering now. *zip* Thanks, Kenneth. You've been ever so patient with my erratic moods. And Phoebe! The Star in a deck of cards represents hope, and you my dear...are truly a Star avatar. =) The night winds down...and my energy swirls away, lost in a cloud of darkness that is gone in the blink of an eye. It is time I curled up in my corner and went to sleep instead of passing out as has become the norm for me.

Psychic Intoxication

I passed out on the couch after my tenth bottle. That was hours ago. Now my stomach is screaming in agony, and my head is pounding away. While I was weaving in and out of consciousness, R called. Nice timing. He'd just ended school, blahblahblah, and could I meet up with him. I can't quite remember what I said, and I don't think I want to. Fuck, I smell of dick. Ergh. What have I accomplished today? Let's see. Got piss drunk, passed out on the couch after pissing off four separate people (and maybe more), messaged three of my exes, and then lost consciousness. Oh, I'm having so much fun destroying myself. Can't quite remember much of the day, but I think Phoebe and Elina called. I don't remember much of the conversations either. Z was off on one of his one binges, I remember that much. Shit, I really do smell of dick. I don't think anyone came by today...but that doesn't mean anything. So...today, I feel really really good about myself. I think I'll top the day off with a few more bottles to knock me out. I've given up on you. On everything.

Psychic Scream

The stress, the pain, the aggravation, my own unbridled rage is choking me. It's too early to be drinking...or so they say. One binge leads to another. I dreamt of tornadoes, waterspouts, hurricanes and tidal waves. The destructive forces of nature. And now I am destroying the last of what remains standing. As the sun rises in the horizon and melts the darkness away, fire traces its way through my veins. It burns me, and my energy right now is limitless. I have to bleed it off. Fuck this. Their fights have become my leash, it binds my wings. That's ok. I've always been broken anyway, discarded by all who've used me. Scream and scream. That's ok. No one cares enough to hear my screams anyway. I have nothing but my dreams, and those are dissipating like the morning mists before the sun. Is this how it ends? I have tried. I can't do it. It is killing me. Fine. I'll use up what I have left for alcohol. Oh, devil-child, devil-child. When the sun sets, the darkness inherent within me will grow restless again. The stars, the stars. They should just die out and plunge the world into eternal night. There is no hope for those condemned. Salvation is just a word. Months ago, I contemplated giving it all up. Today as I sit in silent resentment, again the possibility of throwing it all away surfaces. I have been marked by darkness, and I fear that those who try to reach me will in turn be darkened. The sun irritates me, and I wonder how today will pan out. Pass out on the floor again? Get drunk and call one of my old flames yet again? I'm on an express train to hell, but hey, the fun is in the journey, not the destination right? So I'll have a fucking good time on my way down. Literally. I'll keep those I care about at bay, because...well, we all know the answer to that. Darkness spreads. The fire burns as it runs through my veins, infusing me with heat and oh so much energy. C'mon, men. The drive-thru is open again. Oh, the pain in my heart will not cease no matter what I do. Damn Gabriel with his empty promises of salvation. The room is spinning, and my head feels light. I think an alcohol overdose would be the best way to spend my day today. Hey, when life sucks, grab a bottle. That's my new motto. Screw the optimists, they know nothing about the world we live in. Sunshine and butterflies my ass. Grow up. Well. Now that I've officially made matters between my parents worse, I say I deserve to go out and celebrate with style. Oh, no more crappy alcohol. Let's go splurge on the big boys. If you wana get drunk, do it right. I'm tired of the ungodly hours spent in the corner with tears running down my face. I've more important things to do, like go get drunk...go get fucked by some nameless guy, and build healthy sexual relations with men I don't know. I'm done talking, I'm done fighting endless battles to be who I am. So yes. It's time for me to unleash the dark scream building up in me and let loose. Spiral down, spiral down. Even with the sun blazing brightly in the sky, darkness trails around me like loose threads waving in the slightest breeze. No warmth can penetrate my kavach of darkness. No one shall touch my heart. Rape my physical self, but I've already sold my soul. Too bad.
And I fall into darkness. What can be worse?

Psychic Darkening

The black touch of night leaves nothing untainted. But this is pure, mindless corruption. And I've opened the floodgates of my heart, ready to receive the darkness that will help me to deal. I can no longer go out and sit in gardens surrounded by hordes of mewling felines. I've lost my affinity with cats. The hurt never really goes away, and last night I drifted in and out of induced unconsciousness. It was like a drug trip, but a whole lot more peaceful without the psychedelic twirling. I can't stand to see colours right now. That's why I find it so fitting that the moonlight has been choked off by the blackness, with the lunar queen herself overthrown by dark clouds. Darkness is all around me, and I embrace it. The sun will not warm me today, even though I have to make multiple trips around the island while he rules the skies with fiery incandescence. I am so tired. But no...I cannot rest, can I? I cannot love, I cannot lust; I cannot have, I cannot trust. No...the condemned shall forever suffer. I'm tired of having to constantly defend myself, my actions from people who will never really understand. There are reasons why I am so careful with my emotions to people I don't trust. THere are reasons why I cannot tell them I love them. Everything I touch turns to shit. And somehow, I envy King Midas. At least he created wealth. I just leave a trail of destruction and firestorms in my wake. Lucifer would be ever so proud. Funny how the Latin word for light came from his name. Lucis. How often have I invoked the phrase that incorporates that word to keep my darkness from overwhelming me? Yet the bringer of light has fallen, and Lucifer is now associated with the darkness that I love so much. It is raining, a light misty rain. Yes, weep holy tears for the constant defection of your angels, Heaven. I am weeping too, but for a different reason. It is cathartic to be able to spill the swirl of thoughts and emotions that too often threatens to suffocate me. In this realm of darkness, I am king and all bow before me. The moon must be lonely up on her ethereal throne. I have no power to alter minds, or perceptions. Many believe I am a demon spawned from the darkest recesses of hell. Sometimes I don't know if I am. Continue thinking that I am of demonic ancestry, because at this moment, I count myself among the ranks of the damned. I have hurt those who are pure, scarred the innocent, and while I regret having caused pain, I take comfort in the fact that I can stem the flow of misery, at least for those who surround me with such questioning looks in their gazes. I cannot heal, I can only destroy. I learned that a long time ago. Yiling asked me yesterday..."He hurt you badly, right?" Oh, the bitterness of irony. It was I who hurt him. It was I who drove him away. Yet everyone only remembers the one and only time I have ever cried in all the years they've known me...the one significant event that villified him forever in the eyes of those who care about me. No one knows the tears he shed in my arms, the pain he felt when he saw me on my knees at the bus-stop, one of the few places where we could be open with each other. Regardless. The pain in my heart is starting to solidify into a thick river of ice, and in its place...a glacier of icy calmness slowly takes hold. I am chilled, not by the weather, but by the coldness I am capable of. My emotions are not open for public discussions, my tears private, and the only outlet I have for my pain is my bottle of alcohol, and my way with words. I count myself lucky that before my star burns out, I have had the opportunity to enlighten those who once were entrenched in darkness. Alas...I too must obey the call of Azrael, and my period of light is over. We all return to whence we came. Man to dirt, light to dark, life to death. This is the eternal cycle that governs the world we live in. Even angels and demons are powerless to halt this cycle. The whole point to this post? Well, I am withdrawing, yes. But I understand that there will be repercussions, and backlash for what I am about to do. They will not affect me, they never have, but it is not me I am worried about. I am everything society fails to understand. Perhaps I am darkness incarnate after all. I long for the warmth of the light, but I get burned too easily and retreat to places of intense darkness where I can brood and allow the darkness within to intensify. This is who I am. I drink to escape my problems, I can slip through fingers and hearts quicker than fine sand, and I can vanish in the blink of an eye. I am capable of greatness, be it for the side of good, or for the mindless destruction of evil. I lied when I said I can't heal. I've healed many a fallen angel, helped them regain their wings. But they leave me with a seed of darkness within their hearts, and that, my friends...is the ultimate triumph, and the greatest proof of how dark my soul is. As black as the night, as all-consuming, as powerful, as mighty, but also as misunderstood. And as lonely. The night is grand, it is glorious. But it is also solitary, for all of us nocturnal creatures are lone predators. We hunt alone, we live alone...and we are always...alone. Perhaps it is best for all involved. I have masked my pain well, and now both factions are listening to me. I am calm, as I always am, and I am also a master illusionist. Do not be fooled by what you see if we pass each other in the street. The sweet little boy you see is capable of commanding entire legions from hell. I will taint no one else with my darkened aura. That will be my one and only saving grace.
You can have it all, my empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make you hurt.

Psychic Withdrawal

So I passed outon the floor, fully clothed. My head feels muzzy now, and I feel heaty and dehydrated. My blood feels like sludge moving through my veins. I meant every word I said. I will pick neither light nor shadow, but I'll prtect myself from both. My post title should explain everything. I wil be civil and polite, but it goes no deeper than that. Fight away, people. I'm withdrawing away from everyone and everything because I'm just too tired ofth fights. I'd type more, but something funny is happening to me. I will fulfil my obligations, but understand that this is a rite of death for everything and everyone that I've ever touched. The ships go down tonight. Sorry, Z. I can't.
...and I die just a little bit more inside.

Psychic Tears (ad infinitum)

Ok. I give up. I cave, I throw in the towel. I can't do this. I can't. I just can't. It has been too long since my last winter, at least where familial ties are concerned. I am not some unemotional ice prince, even though I sure act like it. I never show emotion to family. I can't. Don't ask me why. Too much water under the bridge. But fuck, I'm tired of this. The incessant fighting, me being dragged into every single fucking fight. There is a reason why I ran so far away, you fucktards. I don't want to be involved in any more fights. Just because I don't talk to you, because I present an unemotional facade...it doesn't mean I am some uncaring monster. Hell, there are times when I drag myself over asphalt just to get things done. So fine. I'm still the black sheep of the family. I'm never any good at anything. What does it matter if I have intelligence and wit? I never put it to any use in their eyes. What does it matter if I'm losing my skill at the piano because I'm using some broken down keyboard instead of a proper instrument? No, all that matters is that I never know what's going on until the blade is a breath away from my neck. Fine. I won't flinch. Just cut me like you always do. I have to fight to know what the fuck is going on between all four sets of parents? You think that it's easy for me, having to balance four fucking families on top of my other priorities? Fine. Go fight and claw each other for the sake of the greater good. I don' fucking care anymore. I called my old flames up tonight, and like faithful stars, they lent me some light. Fuck this all. I'm tired, and I no longer want to fight to remain afloat. Maybe I'll sink, but I definitely won't swim anymore. I can't disregard all the years that for everyone was so difficult. Shit. I'm gonna be a guy tonight, and just go out for a long walk that lasts a day. Why the fuck am I the last to know? And why has no one ever explained what goes on behind my back? How the fuck am I supposed to trust you, people? When none of you will trust me enough to tell me what is going on, especially when it concerns me? The tears are endless, and the pain is a constant. I don't think I'm suited for this. I'm not. Z, you were great. You could truly be a great guy if you wanted to be. Just think about what I said. You helped me out a lot tonight. Now I need alcohol, one of the old flames...and liquor. I have to bleed some of the frustration off. It's now ten, and the people are emptying from the world. For once, I have something that is pure and untainted. Maybe this will be my swan song. I'm not going to face the tears and music. Never again, family. You broke the boy in me, and it took me years to overcome that. I give up. The fight has drained me, the revelation has shaken me right down to my bones. To think that an adult relative would come to me seeking a mediator for this stupid quarrel that has been simmering undetected by me. Well, fuck this. I'm dressed, I have enough money on me for a booze binge, and I'm leaving the house now. Screw the consequences. None of you thought I'd have given a damn about the fight now, did you? Well, guess what. I do. Only those close to me get to see my emotions, and you've just lost that right.

Psychic Strain

It is stressful dealing with the logistics of moving my piano. It sounds simple, it was simple, but then I have the whole landscape of emotions to navigate through in the process. That part's killing me. Especially since the emotions aren't mine to begin with. There's my mum, who thinks that I will never return after the piano is moved. I'm still undecided whether or not to correct her on that score. Then there's the financial aspect. It doesn't bother me much, but still! Everyone's been giving me grief over it. Ok, fine! I realise I am spending all my paycheck on this one move, but consider it an investment! At least I'd have something to do and I'd be improving myself in this chosen vocation. I have this romantic notion that the best pianists are those trapped in basements during times of war, especially during the WWII period. So I'm a hopeless dreamer. Come on...let me keep my dreams. They're all I have left. Once the piano is here, my skills could probably increase tenfold. I need to master my techniques, I need to improve myself. Let other people work and slave over courses or jobs they resent. I have what I want, I know what I don't want to do. I don't want to get into courses only to realise that my heart is somewhere else. I cannot do something I dislike. If I don't like it, I won't do it. Simple. If I want it...I must get it. Just as simple. I am moving my piano here, I will improve myself, I will not rot away and become a bum. Even simpler. I want it, and I'll get it. I'm calling Renner tomorrow to book the moving date, and I will use every last cent and drop of willpower I possess to move it to where it will be useful. It serves no purpose at my parents' place where it sits there stagnant and collecting dust. Here, I have great plans. It is the mouth for my heart, it sings under my touch. My keyboard is old, but it has no soul. It is mechanical. My piano has warmth, it has harmony, it sings when I touch it. I have never wanted anything else so bad. I've already planned where it is going to be placed. There's going to be some major upheavals because of the move, and I know my mum won't like it. But hey, I've waited two years to make this change, and I want it moved by Friday. No buts, ifs or maybes. It will be here by Saturday morning, and I will play my heart out without worrying whether my grandma's home, or if my siblings want to watch the telly. Also, I will no longer have to compete with my neighbour who's twice a grade higher than me. Not that I mind, since I can outplay every one of them with my eyes closed. :P I have my admirers among my neighbours....lol. Now I have to go back to worrying over the logistics and my rapidly dwindling finances. 'The piano is an exquisite instrument that requires careful handling by experienced movers...' Yeah. Tell me something I don't know. Like how much you'll actually charge me for moving the bloody thing in the first place. Then I have to worry whether it'll fit through the front door of my bachelor pad. Then there's the whole hidden cost of wrapping the piano to prevent scratches...blahblahblah. And I feel like exploding. GOD! Just move the piano from A to B,people! Is that so hard for you? Maybe not all of us have made the transition from apes to homo sapiens. -_- Ok, all I'm askin for is my piano here by Friday night in one piece. *crosses fingers* I don't care about being broke, I don't care about using my first and only paycheck, I don't care about the pathetic balance in my bank. Just get my baby here by Friday night, and I'll practice until I expire from a musical overdose and broken fingers.

Psychic Incandescence

Alright. The pyromaniac in me has resurfaced. Together with all the heat of emotions that accompany such volcanic eruptions. I must warn you, in this post (and probably the rest of the blog) other people's emotions do not matter. It is all about me, me, me. I have never been selfish before. Heck, my conversation with Yushaa tonight only illuminated that fact even more. When it comes to sex, it's never about me. Hey, what do you know! Nice guys do get screwed. Quite literally. So Z. Yo're a great guy, a great fuck, but you know what? Your mood swings piss me off. So piss off, we'll never see each other again. R, you're basically a sex-crazed ass. There you go. We'll never see each other again either. J. J, J, J. THe man of my life. Well, guess what? I have a life. One that does not include you anymore. So don't bother trying to contact me, or pleading with me to reply whenever you deign to talk to me, because I'm tired of the tenterhooks you constantly keep me on. So why not just end this twisted thing we call a 'ship...cuz a long winter is better than an unexpected one. Hmm. X. No longer can I call you a father figure now, can I? Not unless you want to write a novel about a Greek tragedy. So there. I'm washing my hands clean of all you annoying idiots who keep popping in and out of my lives as though I'm some kind of sexual take-out drive-through. I have had enough, and if I want affection, I can get it from the people who actually matter to me. Like my excellent friends for instance. =) Who swung by unexpectedly today and got an eyeful when depressed me glided around the house bottomless. As in, no pants. Still, I felt better after they managed to lift me out of the depressing pit I'd fallen into. And no, I do not regret any of the posts I have written in this blog. After all, the whole purpose of a blog is to express yourself. Some try to pretend to be who they're not with cutesy photos and even cheesier posts that make me want to puke. Well. My blog is about ME, MY THOUGHTS, MY LIFE, and what I want to do. Did I mention it is about me? Freedom of speech, baby. If you dont like it, there's always the little 'X' at the top of the page. I assume if you've somehow managed to piss me off, you're not all that bright to begin with, so I'll help you along. Move the cursor to the top right hand corner. You'll see a bright red 'X' (can't miss it!). Click on it, and voila! You get to keep your deluded visions of who you think you are. So yes, men who have made up half my life...you have managed to piss me off. Oh, there won't be revenge. I'm not the type who'll hunt you down with a sharp, shiny knife to cut off your respective manhoods. No. I understand we have this thing called 'karma' in the world we live in. I just haven't seen it in action, but I'm sure it'll come right around and bite you on the ass for me. I won't name you on my blog, because of course you know who you are. J, X, R, Z. There. Four letters I never want to see in my life again. Z, I wasn't lying when I said you are a great guy and an even better fuck. It's your mood swings I can't stand. You're worse than a cat in heat, and I can't stand your claws, sweetheart. So either get therapy, or eventually get yourself killed in a barfight. Oh,don't worry. I'll attend your funeral if I feel like wearing black on that day. J, you're just a big honkin' fake, to put it mildly. Seriously. You're more plastic than Barbie herself, and that's saying something, baby. X, you're married. Period. R, so are you. =) You're never there, except when you want a quickie. Alright, I get the point! I'm good in bed, but I have other sides to me too, you know? So...take a hike. I'm off to enjoy my life of extravagance and luxury. Well, relatively speaking anyway. I have a roof over my head, my piano's on its way over, and I'm changing for the better. I saved the best for last. Oh, have I ever. =) I have Yushaa, Phoebe, Elina, Kenneth, Yzanne. Hey, it's a short list, but what I don't have in quantity, I more than make up for with quality. Because believe you me, these people are stars in their own right. =) I have enough to be thankful for, and what does it matter really? I live in a good country, not excellent, but passable anyway. I have friends most people would kill for, and I have my talents. Oh, and Z? Here's a tip. Next time you're in bed with someone...don't for Pete's sake say you're thinking of someone else. Just a tip, you know? Yeah...so that's it. I never want to see the four of you again. Oh, hey! I'm breaking up with four guys simultaneously! I've never done that before. *muses* Ok, I'm done being a bitch now. Time for chocolate...and some quality time with my telly. Princess Sophia. Yep. My tv's a princess.
My fire has been rekindled, and it's all thanks to you guys. =) You made all the difference to my life.