Psychic Stone

It seems vaguely unreal to me, this life that I now live. The differences between past and present are mind-boggling, perhaps that is why I have subconsciously erased most of my memories of what has been, and instead focused on what will be. As I walked under the dome of the heavens, and the clouds veiled the stars and moon, I felt something shift in my heart. A slight subtle flicker, but in that one instant, everything clicked. I use emotion as a weapon, as one of my illusions, as a veil to distract people while I slip deeper into my shell. Emotion...exists outside my sphere of concern. I have not dealt with anything at all, and that is why...after all these years, I can honestly say...I'm still pining away for the boy who captured my heart, for the boy who became a man when I blinked twice and was out the door a breath later. I feel like a stone statue, for all the emotion that burns within my heart. My expression is impassive, and I wonder if there is any way for me to bridge the gap between past and present. I seal my heart off when emotion threatens to glance my way, I step out of light into shadow the instant it seems I might feel...yet I don't understand why. I scattered my words and thoughts to the winds, and suddenly I felt so much lighter. A stone as light as a feather, I drifted off home as the winds pulled me on my way. I used emotion as a weapon against J, as illusions to ward my heart from intrusion, as a shield. I should feel ashamed at the outright desecration of something so many people hold sacred, but then...stones don't feel. I'll pretend the moisture on my cheeks came from the heavens, as rain moistens the earth. I don't want to remember any of it, the pain, the short-lived joy, the fireworks that exploded in my head as our souls touched. The silence, the anguish of my years weigh me down even more. Why are stones heavy? Well, I think I know the answer to that one now. I don't expect anything, but if it's possible and salvation is more than just a word, I don't want to be stony anymore. I've said once before, we can never run from our past. But never have I wanted to run so hard and fast before. I feel lost. And so so so inadequate for the road that lies ahead. Come back, all that I have lost. I cannot deal with the mortal pain of losing anymore. Not when frost grips my heart and I feel frozen, as hard and emotionless as stone.
You promised...and now I'm calling for you. Will you come back and hold me as I die just a little more?

Psychic Burnout

I can't sleep. I need to, I know my body's about to collapse soon. But I just can't. Energy floods my veins, imbueing my blood and body with the need to move. I'm literally vibrating in my seat, ready to pouce on any activity that will drain me of my excess energy. My eyelashes keep veiling my eyes, signaling my physical exhaustion, but it seems my mental and emotional turmoil form a solid barrier that prevents me from reaching unconsciousness. It's not just the problems that I am juggling that aids the sandman in eluding me. It's the realisation that dawn is here, and the sun will soon be piercing the darkness with his unwavering beams of light. I have my fingers crossed that today will see a huge thunderstorm descending upon our little island. Only then can I drift off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that I am protected from heat and light. But right now, I feel hot and closed, and I wish yet again that energy was a tangible element that could be bled off like so many other substances. I feel hot and cranky, and this is even before the sun has risen. I shudder to think how my temperament will suffer when the sun finally burns me. I spent most of the night weaving in and out of fragmented memories, laughing at all the inappropriate moments, laughing at silly notions of grief and loss, and solemnly wondering at the strength of human emotion. Now I feel shadowed, and clouded, and I wish I could find peace for just a while, so I can lay my head down and rest, as the rest of humanity awakens from their night of peaceful dreams. In a few minutes, the cool velvet cloak of darkness will be lifted as morning arrives, unwanted as it is. The full moon will fade away into obscurity as the sun reclaims his rightful throne, and where will I be? *sigh* I don't know. My ability to plan seems to have been crippled of late. I can't even plan when to sleep anymore. Perhaps that is why I've been feeling so tired and listless these past few days. My eyes are rebelling, glancing off the monitor, refusing to focus anymore. I suppose I should try to calm myself down and sleep. Hard to do so, when energy is pulsing through me. *screams* I need sleeping pills. And more alcohol, even though I've been resisting the urge to drink for quite a while now. Pills and booze. Guaranteed to induce sleep in most insomniacs. ARGH! I don't want to sleep and face any more terrors, but my body's too tired. I'm about to collapse. #$%! it.
What do I have to offer, except promises sealed in blood?

Psychic Visions

I've been seeing Death a lot in my mind lately. In my dreams, in waking visions that greatly trouble me. The recurring theme these past few days seems to be 'loss'. As I rose from the cold marble upon which I usually rest, I half considered strengthening the emotional frost that leads many people to conclude that I'm cold, my own family included. The feeling of loss lingered on even after I clawed my way back to full consciousness. J sat there, lost in his own world as a life was imperiled. He didn't care. Some people may say dreams are just that, fragments of illusions that our subconscious likes to dredge up when we surrender all control to sleep. But there is no denying the reality of what I felt, what was induced because of what I saw. I have been feeling so drained and tired recently, that usually I just put myself on auto-pilot and allow the visions to swamp me, and I lose myself in beauty and hope, terror and loss. It is both gift and curse, to be able to summon hope with a single thought, and to be able to be felled by the same. Double-edged sword and all. I've been drifting further and further away, although the illusions I present are one of close ties and harmony. I feel like just running away from all the emotional obligations. The weather has chilled me, I think. I don't know if I have enough strength of mind to keep my illusions in place. I am so indescribably tired. Yet I hate sleep because of all the terrors that lurk in my subconscious. *shakes head* I begin to think I will never have the peace that I so desperately crave. All these obligations are tying me down. Someday I'll break free, and I'll sing a song of redemption for each and every soul I have failed to save. Until then, I suppose I am doomed to wander these roads alone, with the darkness burgeoning uncontained in my heart, and visions of my failure to haunt me and weaken me further.

Psychic Detachment

I watch. I watch without emotion as one man's mistake unfurls like a flower in full bloom. The weight of consequence falls heavily on his shoulders. But I will not step in to help. I feel oddly detached from the events that are unfolding. The threat of death should not be taken lightly. I should know. Yet in my mind, the green pastures and lavender blossoms still wave gently in the breeze. And when night falls, my mind traverses the dark corridors of my heart without fear. My visions of peace and power remain intact, and I am surprised to find that the emotions engulfing the people around me no longer touch me. Is it I who have grown cold, or has my curse of empathy finally been lifted? Somehow I don't think I really care. I wondered about his thoughts, and how he felt. And for a very brief moment, I cared. Then I closed my heart off, and turned back to dissecting the demons haunting my mind. I'm content for now, to sit and watch the world go by. These problems will work themselves out in time, like knots in a weaving. I cannot help hearts that are closed. The days have been chilly and bracing of late, with winds buffeting the trees and storms unleashing their wrath on the earth. It reminds me that there are still things worth living for. The scent of lightning before a storm strikes, the feel of cool winds against my mortal form, and the softening of the earth after the storm dies. And from that, I glean yet another lesson in life. Each death has a purpose, a meaning. Every beginning has an end. If this dies, then so be it. I will not fight fate to keep what is not rightfully mine. When I feel this way, I half fancy I can walk into a blazing building and sit in the middle, watching the forces of nature consume what man has built. Marriages...relationships...all that we have built will eventually succumb to the overwhelming strength of the world we live in. *shakes head* It's okay. Not many will understand what I feel. Do I feel anymore? Do I care? The answers to that hold no value for me, nor do they interest me in the least. They're just questions that hover in my mind like unwanted flies. I have to go now, to collect my piano books. Perhaps I'll remain there an hour or two, running my fingers over the ivories and wonder quietly where we went wrong. Where I went wrong. My emotions have been flushed down the great cosmic drain. Blessing or curse, I have yet to decide. I will walk among humanity today, but their emotions will no longer affect me. Today, I care only for my piano and the kittens that the cat has deposited on my doorstep yet again. Annually, she gives birth in my garden. I've cradled each tiny furball, whispering soft words of comfort, and I fancy the mother cat and I have come to an understanding. While she hunts in the afternoons, I sit with her kittens and watch them snuffle quietly in their sleep. Occasionally, she will watch me carefully with eyes that hold a lifetime of feline wisdom in their amber orbs. Cats are creatures of trust, but to get that, you have to earn it. Humans need to learn caution. *bitter*

Psychic Wilderness

The elements have collided in the heavens. Fire dances across the skies in the form of lightning strikes, brief but immensely beautiful. Water thickens the air, and the earth is singing out for the rains to fall. The clouds darken above me, and my heart leaps as I watch the storm gather. I want to go to my piano, after a long time spent running away from my connections to that place. I know what will be said when I go there, and comfort is not what I need right now. Yet I'm half of a mind to stay here and enjoy the roaring winds and raging storm. Yes, I think. I can enjoy the storm even as I play dark melodies that illustrate the darkness of life and mortal pain. I have time, if I do go. Two hours to have a quick shower and get dressed, and catch the bus down. The storm is a welcome distraction. I'd forgotten how much I love storms. It calls out to me. I must move, the energy burns when I'm still.

Psychic Seals

As the winds rise around me, and a magnificent storm descends, I find my heart sealing itself off slowly. There's only so much I can deal with. The rest has to be shoved aside, placed at the back of my mind to fester and rot while I tend to my most grievous wounds. I've sealed myself off in this dark palace that I call home, the winding gardens that are mine to roam. The moon has been so conspicuously absent of late, but somehow...I don't mind. The darkness is a blessing, and I can weave in and out of the shadows undetected, letting the winds tug me this way and that. I'm too tired to fight anymore. Go if you want. X is leaving. R left, and I don't blame him because I know the national examinations are coming up and I want him to do his best in his chosen field. The doors to this place are flung wide open, as are the windows, but my tower remains empty. Suddenly...unreasonably, I think, I find myself missing Baby. That little bugger running around and chasing everything that moves. I miss cuddling him. Oddly enough, he's the only cat my allergies remain dormant for. Any other cat will have me sneezing violently in seconds. My mood lightens slightly with the descent of night. True darkness has begun. And I rise with her. I have given up on ever winning those I've lost. Loss. Such an insignificant word. Love. Just as insignificant. Yet they seem so monumental to me now, when I stare at their cold realities, and at the mess they have created in my otherwise calm and structured life. I was there three days, and I made a difference during the first two. By the third day, too exhausted to care, I left and went home to rest and gather myself up for what I know will be one of the hardest periods I will ever face. The loss of a father, the only one I have known for 19 years. A dark period indeed. I have sealed my emotions off to prevent myself from being hurt. These seals serve me well, and as I leave to dance in the shadows of Night as one of her children, I must remember that there is none powerful enough to ward against pain forever. Seals are temporary fixes, but they get the job done so I don't end up...well. Like so many people I know. Knew. Baby refused to let me out the door this morning. Tried to follow me out. Heartbreaking eh? I think they know somehow. The mysteries of feline wisdom. *sigh* Houses...they are empty shells. Like bodies. They need souls to colour their interiors and make their exteriors welcoming and complete. Still...a good portion of my life was spent in that house. That's where I first learned the meaning of the word 'death' and 'loss', and that's where I learned to seal myself off from excruciating pain. She was a breath away from me when she passed on, and the only recollection I have of that horrible memory is her body on the floor. I pressed my lips to her forehead unwillingly, because I didn't want to see what Azrael was capable of. But there were customs to observe, and at that time, I thought it was a very cruel tradition. You never truly heal. You just learn to deal with the pain. I remember...the first time. It was morning, and misty sunlight was filtering in throughout the house. He held me in his arms, and he whispered the words that I secretly treasure so much. That was nearly three years ago, and I remember listening to 'Bridge Over Troubled Water' by Charlotte Church in the morning as he drove me home. These memories are mine, although the place in which they were formed is being taken away from me. I spent my last morning there today, willing myself not to cry, although Baby's reaction to my imminent departure broke me in the end. Sniffling, I ran my fingers through his soft fur as he mewled softly and wound himself around my ankles, a cat's plea not to leave. I said my goodbyes, as I always do, and I left with the knowledge that I cannot change my father, nor can I reclaim what I've lost. It is a difficult lesson for me, learning to let go. Letting go is difficult for everyone.
It broke my heart to see her in tears, and even though the closed door muffled the strength of her pain and the sound of her sobs, I felt it as acutely as if it were my own. I wanted to hug her, to tell her to be strong for her son, but the words dried to ash in my throat as I once again sealed my heart off from the emotions of others. I remember once, when I sat at the bus stop with a friend, and she was crying. I didn't want to cry with her, so I invoked the emotional seal that has kept me sane all these years, and the resulting consequence was that I was thought of as 'cold'. That's probably what she thought too, as I turned my back on her while heartbreak and separation threatened to suffocate her. I don't know. I was there for him, for them both. I lifted spirits from the gloom, granted them salvation, but my own eludes me. As the winds swirl around outside, and Night calls me, I wonder...will I ever find it? Or is this what I have been condemned to? A lifetime of nocturnal pursuits, where I am considered far from normal and the rest of humanity avoids me because I am, apparently, 'odd'? I don't want to be cold anymore. But I don't want to be the little boy in the hospital cafeteria all over again. I wonder, if perhaps...the stars that twinkle above are the assigned thrones of the angels who watch over us? What happens when a dark cloud obscures them? I can type no more, because I can no longer find words to express the anguish ravaging my heart. I messaged my father one last time, a message I believe he chose to ignore. My words were simple. 'Whatever you do, you will always be my dad.' He never called. They never do, in the end.
I invoke the seals that were seeded in my heart as a child, awaken and protect me as I become a man.

Psychic Phoenix

I will not bow down to the many demons that lurk behind every corner in my life. I may be only mortal, but I believe the years and the harshness of reality have aided my transition from a boy into a man. A man I am, and a man's responsibilities I bear. Old soul eh, R? I'm still pursuing my dreams, difficult as it is. But they say the journey to the top of the mountain only serves to make the view sweeter. I shall hold on to that philosophy, as I hold on to all my values and principles, and I will not fall. I will not falter. I have already fallen, and in the words of a dear friend, "Two days ago you sounded like you were gonna kill yourself." I have dwelt enough on the pain of mortality, and it is time for me to rise from the ashes. A veritable phoenix, one that lives forever. Isn't that what our souls are, in the end? The pain will fade, given time. I have two years to catch up on my musical dreams, and hone my skills at my chosen craft. This isn't a setback, it's a blessing in disguise. Nothing I say right now will lessen the pain at losing yet another person I care about, but again...the pain will diminish with time. My very presence here is a testament to the healing effects of the passing years. JB couldn't break me. J couldn't. And I am still here. Suddenly the sun no longer burns me. It floods my room with golden light, and its warmth seems to seep into the bleak space where I live and breathe. Hope. So frail...so very fleeting, yet so very precious to those of us who need it so desperately in times of darkness. I count myself lucky to have had such a tight circle around me right when I fell. Kenneth lifted me up from the gloom yesterday, and today I still feel his lingering presence around me, bringing a smile to my lips. Kenneth...you have always been there for me. Thank you. *hugs* And to my circle of best friends...what would I have done without you? No, don't answer that. Thank you for the warmth and comfort that night at the reservoir. I won't forget it either. It will still hurt, I guess. But knowing that the pain will lessen with time helps to ease some of the grief.
And I rise once more from the ashes.

Psychic Honesty (coming clean)

If the magnitude of this pain I feel is immense, I cannot imagine what they are going through. For them, I must be strong. Of course, my illusions are always there to back me up. I can go on autopilot and allow my self to retreat behind the facade that I will paint on over the cracks. But I cannot deny the strength of the pain that roars from deep within my heart. I waited all day...all night for his call. Dad, you never called. I guess this is it then. Each year I lose something valuable to me. When I was on my knees yesterday, as I fought to push the tears away, I messaged J. A desperate, emotionally charged message. He didn't reply either. There is a lesson hidden somewhere in this messy cesspool I find myself in, but I can't bring myself to look for it. J, is this how things stand? Is the golden promise you gave me meaningless? Has it lost its value with the passage of time? I didn't know promises could depreciate in value. For you, I have allowed many things to slide past, and had it been anyone else, I would have scarred him beyond recognition. But it is you, and if three years of silence will not kill this love I bear for you, then nothing will. I am unlike any other. Anyone else would have cut his losses and moved on. I can't, because regardless of how I portray myself on any given day, I believe love is sacred, and I will not disrespect it by giving up what I know to be pure. I will be the first to admit that I have had trysts with married men. But never have I attempted to break their marriages up. I respect that union, and I recognise the fact that I am only a welcome diversion to their otherwise routine lives. In that instant of copulation, an emotional bond is created, one that cannot be dissolved for any reason. *shakes head* This is who I am, this is how I am. J, what happened all those years ago...I am sorry if the events that unfolded from our friendship, such as it is, confused you. I was afraid of what I was feeling for you, and you know that. So please forgive me, because I need a ray of light right now. Come and hold me for a while, because I am so terribly afraid, and so indescribably miserable. Please...

Psychic Solitude

The silence has been broken by discordant melodies and angsty screams. The solitude numbs me. I stared into the mirror for a few minutes, noting the minute changes that reflected my rebirth from an emotional zombie into a human boy whose heart was scarred and cracked. Still, I felt and that was the main thing wasn't it? I enjoyed simple pleasures like taste. I ate and my weight ballooned from a skeletal 45kg to a healthy 60kg. I enjoyed the pleasure a simple touch could bring, and I marveled at the world I had missed out on when I was younger. Memories were all too often suppressed, and I spent my younger years wandering aimlessly, and wondering needlessly. I wander no more, I stay here on my high tower far away from the rest of humanity, and far away from their pain. I wonder no more, for the answers frighten me, and I no longer ask. Today I play my swan song, a tribute to 19 years of life, 19 years of being someone strange and odd, the child who sat under trees and watched the world go by when I thought my head would explode from containing all the pain. It has always been me alone. Wandering around in parks and gardens, hands in my pockets, felines mewling around my ankles, purring and somehow soothing the misery that enveloped me. The trees shaded me in good weather or bad, and I could lie on grass as soft as velvet and whisper all my secrets to the winds, allow them to snatch the words from my lips and carry them far away from me, scattering them to the four corners of the earth. Those times are long gone now. I have somehow managed to become Pinnochio. Transformed into a real boy, regardless of not whether I want reality to be part of my life. My father has not called, and my hope is beginning to wane. Right now I could collapse in a field of green and not move until the next century. My tears will do the earth some good. I have no wish to see anyone right now, because I will only feel more pained if I do. My father is mortal and susceptible to the many weaknesses that plague man. In a previous blog entry, I wrote that I hoped the apple falls far far far from the tree. How prophetic those words seem now. The foundation that makes up my world is falling apart. I don't care. I don't feel much anymore. I think it's my defense mechanism. I'm tired of losing the people and things that matter to me. The list is endless, I assure you. I have never asked for mortal pleasures like clothes, or accessories, or money even. I can get by without all these. But emotional bonds are sacred to me, and the sanctity of this bond has been tainted and befouled by the vilest demon from the bowels of hell. Yet I cannot find it in my heart of hearts to hate her passionately. I can't. Nor can I turn my back on my father. But what can I do? I'm only a boy. Worse, I'm only a boy who is hopeless at emotion, be it receiving, giving or displaying. I don't know what to do. A few minutes of quiet contemplation in front of the mirror, and suddenly my words came back to haunt me. I was talking to Alex a few years ago, and I told him my heart was a maze full of mirrors, with each one showing me a reflection of what I wanted. But they were only illusions, never the real thing. It is mad, I think, that I can remember such small details with such vivid accuracy, and yet other more terrifying experiences with the darker side of man leaves only a foggy imprint in the recesses of my memory. I have quite lost all my appetite, and on a whim considered not eating. At the very least, I'll be detoxifying my body. Too bad there isn't a detox treatment for the heart. I have been feeling emotionally colder as the night progressed, and now I am so frozen I couldn't care less what happens next. I can only wait for night, when I am free to walk these hallways of darkness alone and unfettered by human restrictions and societal expectations. The chains that bind me to this place are only temporary. I will never, ever show weakness in the form of emotion again. It is both foolish and dangerous. I already know what R will say regarding this post. 'You're going back to your old ways.' I don't give a damn. I'm tired and I'm hurting and I'm tired of hurting. My eyes are bloodshot, and my stomach is ill with the abuses I put it through last night, and I just want to curl up in my corner and dream of the times forever lost to me. The four walls cage me in, but if I desire solitude, I must consent to be chained in this hellish dungeon until moonrise.

Psychic Pain

There are so many things running through my head now. I didn't abandon you, dad. In your darkest hour, I stood by you. I am not some miraculous angel, I know I can't make everything right in the blink of an eye. But dad...don't break my trust in you. I have faith in you, I want you to do the right thing. Don't walk away from me, from them, from us. Think about what you're giving up. Right now, I don't even know if I have the right to call you 'father'. I have lost one dad, two. You're my third. And I swear, you'll be the last. I can't lose you too. How many times have we laughed and wrestled on the floor, talked about the future together? If this pain that I feel is searing, I can't imagine what you're putting them through. So many questions I have to ask you, dad. 'Why? Why did you do it?' It's not my place to condemn you, dad. You're only human. But dammit. You're not supposed to be human! You're supposed to be my mentor, my guide, my father. You're supposed to be infallible. Am I still your son? Do I still retain that title once you sign the papers? Huh? I don't pray. You know that. But tonight, as I see all that I stand to lose, as I see what you're going through...God, I'm on my knees. Dad, I don't want to lose you. If you need help, somewhere to stay, I will always be here. You know that. So why are you running away from everyone and everything? This is a mess you have created. Now be a man and clean it up. If you need assistance, I won't hesitate to come to your aid. I don't want you to be wandering the streets outside, all by yourself. Come home, dad. Come on home. Don't do anything rash. I'm begging whatever higher power that exists...don't let any harm befall my father. Watch over him, and guide him in all that he says and does. I will push my pain away. I don't want to feel because I have no right to.
I know I'm praying for much too much, but could you send back the only man she loved?

Psychic Sigh

The day was everything I could have wished for. Perfect skies, a touch of light breezes, and no major responsibilities. Not to mention the reforging of links I once thought could never have been revived. But then I just had to look. Just one glance, I told myself. Of course, that glance plunged me back into darkness. Still, it is my fault for having taken the step. He is happy. Of course he is. Why shouldn't he be? *sigh* Is this what I've held him back from? I don't know. It still pains me, somehow. The years cannot diminish the strength of my love, nor can my resentment sully the purity of our connection. It is stupid to attempt to turn a black rose red. *sigh* On a brighter note...Seif has asked me out tomorrow evening!! *celebrates* For every death, there is new birth. J has changed much. *muses* I suppose one could argue that he isn't the boy I fell in love with, because of the many major changes. Yet I still stupidly hope that somewhere underneath the glamorous veneer lies the simple man who captured my heart with his innocent trust. *shakes head* I cannot hope anymore. I am too tired, and I have spent too long waiting. Some people have the courage to turn away and never look back. I can't do that. I treasure the memories too much to turn my back on them. J? Do me the honour of forgiving me for my past mistakes.

Psychic Sanctuary

I fell asleep on a stone notch embedded within the earth, as the moon floated high overhead, a perfect orb stained amber. The winds whispered secrets as the waves gently drew my soul away from my body. I felt peaceful once more, as Nature cradled me in her bosom, singing the sweet song known to all creatures of the Night. I awoke feeling happier than I'd been in days. My claws have been sharper these past few days, a result of my lack of sleep and slight illness. I am not fully recovered yet, but... *contented* I opened sleepy eyes to look at the darkness layering the world around me, then I caught sight of the pale moon overhead like a trusty friend...and I felt the turmoil in my heart cease for a moment. The breezes gentled, laughing at me from the shadows, teasing me for having been cooped up inside for the past few nights. The waves, uncaring as to my state of consciousness, continued dancing across the black glass of water. It was only for a few seconds, and as I stood on unsteady legs, the moon hid behind a passing cloud. Whispering a soft goodbye in my heart, I left my place of peace.