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.