Psychic Heartblood

I want to scream, but words fail me. Nothing can express the anguish raging through my being right now. I see the flash of silver when I close my eyes, can feel my blood leave my body in raging torrents. I scent rivers of blood with every agonizing breath. J will not save me this time. I pushed him away, and this time I know he will never come back. He never did keep his promise. When I lost my sight last year, he was the first person I turned to. It didn't matter that I eventually regained my vision. He wasn't there, despite his promise to be. When I was hospitalised, he wasn't there either. Meaningless words fly past me; I can imagine the bloody rivers slowly turning transparent; blood to tears. I am fighting back an emotion that I never thought would surface again in me; bloodlust makes me dizzy. I must...I must pour out all my pain through this blog, this extension of me that I never realised was the only outlet for all my unspoken emotions; things I never can say. I never will say. A desperate attempt to gouge out the pain razoring through me. Razors. Sweet relief is just a few steps away. My heart constricts at the thought, at the potential humiliation I know I will face. I am 15 all over again. Refusing to talk to anyone, attached only to my piano, the sole instrument that could give my pain a voice, some tiny way to express the burden I carried. My mind flits back to the times I would stare at the darkened landscape as night unfolded, my first trysts with death and the morning after. The many cats that surrounded me with warmth, when I ran hard and fast from the blood I'd drawn. The many nights that I spent watching normal people slumber, not at peace, maybe, but secure in the knowledge that they were loved. I have often imagined what it would be like if I was someone else, just for a day. It has been a habit since I was younger. I would watch as grandchildren hugged their grandparents, and back then I had no defences. My eyes were alive with emotion, and now I realise all the strangers who stopped to talk to me, to touch me, saw my pain. Growing up has been a bitch, but at least I've learned to cloak my eyes and self with illusions, ones that fool everyone I push away. How did my life get so twisted? My breath catches in my throat as I feel the silvered edge press against my wrist. The blood trickles down, a light drizzle at first. Speckling the floor with crimson petals, flowers of life and death blooming all around me, soaking my clothes. White. Always wear white. It shows off the colours in stark contrast, reminds one of the beauty that supposedly runs through our veins. The drops sparkle under the light, and I'm taken back to my first time. Her death haunted me; I could not sleep. This eased the pain, and when I first slept after such a long time, I thought I felt a tiny flicker of peace. There. Now you know why I hate having my veins touched by anyone else. The power to hurt should only belong to the one who will be hurt. No one else. J, I'm so so sorry I can't give you what you want. I'm only me, and if these red drops that fall thickly from my arms represent love, then I am trying my hardest to stop loving you. I'm slightly sticky now, and I can't differentiate between the blood and the tears now. I must look quite a sight. I crave the sharp edges, I need it in a way that is almost primal. Some deep urge to claw myself bloody to rid myself of pain that has haunted me for most of my life. A part of my mind wonders if this will be my last post. I will have to clean myself up, if I wake up later. I must contain my emotion until I'm done talking to KS. I feel so inadequate all of a sudden. The clock ticks on heartlessly, reminding me that each second is one second closer to sweet oblivioin. Extreme blood loss will evetually lead to loss of consciousness. Maybe this should be my weapon against insomnia. THe trusty razor. It's getting harder to breathe. I think I'll go lie down and watch the crimson puddles grow larger. I'M growing numb inside. How fitting. That's the song I'm currently obsessed with. Maybe I'll sit here and tinkle on the ivories, adding a splash of red to the black and white keys. After all, extreme emotion drives passion which in turn inspires greatness. I felt my heart skip a beat. I lay me down to sleep at 6 tonight, and as I lie on the cold ground, I know this time there will be no warmth if I do wake up, only unspoken recrimnations and harsh words. Theylll try to keep me caged this time. I do not care. One blessed release, and then I will be as empty as I used to be.

Psychic Selves

The night was quiet. I was flying solo, my partner only showing up at 5:00am. I was quiet, as always, when this lady walked up to me, eyed me for a while, then started chatting me up. It was fine, she dwelt on light topics at first. For half an hour, she blabbed on and on while I sifted through her words for the finer meanings embedded in each sentence. I was already upset at my partner's absence, and her incessant talking was starting to get on my nerves. Then she asked me about religion, asking if I needed a blessing. I recoiled visibly. Excuse me? YOU're talking to ME about religion? I have always stepped lightly around this hot topic littered with verbal landmines. That night, however, a little voice in my head roared with laughter at her audacity. I believe we all have different selves within us, inherent multiple personalities that some of us learn to silence as obeisance to the God of Normalcy. Ah, the white picket fence dream. "I am normal. I'm a woman-loving, hot-blooded male who loves sports and hot chicks. I don't hear voices in my head." I digress. Anyway. My usually dark self was laughing at her foolishness. The part of me that seeks wisdom in all forms silenced the dark one quickly, paying close attention. The empathic part of me ached for the pain that such wisdom springs forth from. Adversity is a close kin of wisdom, I know this from personal experience. While the professional part of me was busy with my assignments, the wise one within was listening to her in rapt attention. Not her preachings, but the experiences from which such people are shaped. She spoke of inner peace, and in a sudden flash of clarity, I realised that the only reason why I still cling to the memories of J is because he gave me an inner peace that was everything she described her experience of religion as. She talked at length of what God could do for me, and I watched as she stumbled over her words, contradicting herself. Laughing silently, the cynical part of me ripped through her meaningless words and then the emotional part took over and saw the concern that rippled outward from her being. She talked on and on, and eventually my dark self overpowered the part of me that was gathering wisdom from her words. "Empty words, blind quotes; you can find them everywhere. She is but a vessel for such wisdom, merely a container, not knowing what it carries, spilling it out without once thinking about the contents she ferries. There will be many more you can seek out, worthwhile intellects who can discuss the merits of religion with you, people who can accept your words with open minds and hearts without trying to draw you in," he argued. The wise one fell silent, unable to find a suitable comeback. The impatient part of me left her standing in the same exact spot trying to convert someone else. The hot-tempered part of me flared up at once when she subtly put down other religions. The other guy was waaay too dense and spineless to detect the slight derision in her words as she spoke of religions she believed to be wrong. I'm tired of all these speeches, to be brutally honest. Regardless of what religion, it's always the same conversion speech. "Ours is the only path! The right one. The others are all wrong! Believe us, or you shall be condemned." In the next breath, "OUR God is a kind, forgiving, compassionate one." Uh, hello? Contradict much? I don't mind if you want to talk about your religion with me, because to be quite frank, I am interested in every religion, having read up on quite a bit of each. I'm fascinated with their concepts, but it is the people who taint their purity by trying to force it down each other's throats. Of course, the diplomatic part of me hushed all the others and scrambled to the forefront of my mind, effectively taking control of my mouth. Using words silvered with years of practising the great art of glib double-talk, I told her that I would only accept the path that truly touches me. I didn't tell her of my extensive forays into the many religions that sing the praises of God, in different forms and different languages. I didn't see a need to. The part of me that craved solitude just wanted to get rid of her, the part of me that still wanted wisdom tried to talk to her, but the cold one joined hands with the diplomat in me and together they silenced everyone else, forcing out a cold smile. "If there truly is a God, above all else, then I trust He has a plan for me. If someday he wishes for me to sing his praises, He will ensure that I shall be touched by His Grace so that I will truly believe. If everyone on this earth is meant to be redeemed, then surely He has an opportunity for us to be touched by Him, does He not? Now is not that time for me, but I trust the day will come when my heart and eyes are open to the true path that leads to Him." The dark one snickered maliciously at the confusion that flitted across her face, but then all my selves melted into one and I reached out a hand to touch hers. In spite of my irritation, in spite of what the many fragments of my mind were saying, I was truly touched that here was a person who had stayed behind to talk to me, trying to get me to rejoin her flock. Not THE flock, for I doubt that there will be a time when we can all bow before one God, but I was touched nonetheless. She looked surprised at our brief contact, but over the years, I have learnt that a single action can do so much more than all the words in the world. I held her gaze with mine, for one moment allowing the shutters to fall away, flaring the curtains to reveal the depths of my soul. That moment stretched on between us, and then someone else came in and she withdrew, looking slightly shaken. This new guy turned out to be from the same religion as her. He looked slightly surprised when she addressed him, and I watched in quiet amusement as she told him about me. "He's got a very old soul! At first when I came in, I was a bit afraid to talk to him, but then I saw his eyes. He's very gentle, you know? Very wise eyes." I caught the other guy's eye, and gave him a wry smile. He laughed out loud. He shook my hand, and the two of them seemed really taken with me. He asked for my name, and I gave it freely, knowing it would only serve to confuse them even more. The illusionist within me was delighted at the confusion that I had called forth into being before me. Then they shook it off, and I allowed the diplomat in me to show itself. The guy was more astute than the lady (I never did get their names. The forgetful part of me took over) and he asked about my experience in religious matters. Smiling slightly, I told them a few nuggets of information. The lady seemed taken aback when she realised I wasn't the ignorant fool I had been pretending be for the past hour. The dark one howled with laughter, and the empath in me slapped him soundly. "That was a horrible trick!" he protested, pinning my dark self in a chokehold to prevent him from seizing control of my mouth. I laughed aloud, quickly coughing and feeling heat creep up my cheeks. The guy and lady looked at me interestedly. I smiled, the shy part of me suddenly taking over. I walked away, and they got the hint. The guy smiled at me, and I shook his hand, honestly liking him for his calm countenance and unquestioning acceptance of my past choices in life. The lady wouldn't give up, though. She was hellbent on giving me a blessing. I finally allowed the dark one to speak. "No, I don't want one." And he seized control of my legs and forced me to walk away, leaving her standing there looking slightly crestfallen. Again, I must stress that I have no problems against religion per se, any religion. Just don't keep ramming it down my throat, because I don't fancy having things thrust down my mouth. Ok, that was my 'naughty' self talking. *giggles* Now I have to go get some sleep, or Betty will kill me if I oversleep and show up late. Again. Oh. My bitchy self wanted to slap her silly, but settled for ignoring her. She left pretty quickly. *gloats*
Forgive me for wanting redemption, J. All I want is you. Everything else is inconsequential.

Psychic Sinking

I'm slipping deeper into my shell, hiding behind a veneer that disguises the quiet despair threatening to ravage me, like a slow, wasting disease. I've been drowning in deep regrets, bitter echoes from the past that have come back to haunt me. J's words were cold, completely devoid of inflection. Eventually, he just stopped talking and I nodded once, resigned to my fate. I think it was yesterday morning. I'm beginning to lose track of time. For the first time in over three years, irritation coloured his words. I expected nothing less of him. The day is cold and gloomy, and the elements reflect the storm raging behind my black eyes, now blue with tears. I barely spoke during my watch with Juf, something he instantly picked up on. He asked if everything was ok. I gave a noncommittal grunt, and he got the hint, leaving me alone downstairs. I could hear him banging around upstairs. I had a colossal explosion yesterday night. It has been coming on for a while, this anger towards her. When I am exhausted, and I require sleep, nothing and no one shall stand in the way of my need for rest. So when I was roughly woken from my sleep, I snapped and started snarling. She left me alone for the rest of the night. It earned me only half an hour's respite, then all too soon it was time for me to dress up for my night shift. I don't regret my rare display of temper, because I know it reminds people that I have boundaries only the foolish will attempt to cross. I'm tired, but that's a good thing. I hardly have time to dwell on the miseries of mortality. My nocturnal carefree spirit has been twisted and corrupted beyond recognition, and I find it fitting that I am growing colder by the day. I had one last glorious burst of fire yesterday, a slight twinge of regret for my brief flash of emotion, then emotional silence followed. I threw myself into moving everything from the lower floors all the way up. Juf took over without comment, frowning slightly at my sudden break from loquaciousness. Not that I'm usually very chatty, but then again...I do have my moments. I admit, I was brooding. I spent half the night in stony silence, leaving my station only to release or grab water. He finally gave up at three, knowing me well enough to know I had not eaten, and forced a bottle of iced tea and a turkey roll into my hand. It was sweet (the gesture, not the food), and it brought a brief smile to my lips. I'll be required to grace my parents with my presence tomorrow, and therefore I'll be taking one night off from work. Juf's taking off tonight, which means I'll be working with the twin wonders. *sarcastic* I would gladly take them over Bets anyday, though. I left my post at 8:30 this morning, and I suppose I should be thankful for small favours. It spared me the requisite awkwardness that always follows a blowup. Now I'm home, and I'm feeling as darkly depressed as ever, but the promise of sleep and a good rest helps to ease the strain in my muscles, and that's one load off my mind. The more I watched Juf surreptitiously through the night, the more I am convinced that his soul is very very familiar to me. A broken boy, hiding his pain behind a goofy smile and the ultimate defense mechanism: humour. I've seen souls like this before, felt them before they heal and ascend far away from where I currently reside. *looks at horrendous wall colours* In the bowels of hell, apparently. I'm feeling minutely better, but not yet up to seeing anyone. Juf has been watching my back for the past few nights, and tonight I know I'll be feeling slightly lost without him hovering nearby, watching me anxiously. J's coldness has not subsided. I didn't expect it to. *sigh* I am boneweary. I've strained the muscles in my left thigh and calf, and chest. My arms are still tense. I guess I ought to go to sleep now. My emotional frost has not melted yet, and for those who count themselves as my friends, yes, even you J, liberate te ex inferis. I push you away so that when I finally sink beneath the waves, the resulting whirlpool won't take you down with me down to Tartarus. ...No, that's not a dental term. And now, I am off to ponder what I am to do with myself, short of spontaneously combusting and saving everyone a whole lot of trouble.

Psychic Emptiness

My room has been painted a hideous, eye-smarting shade of blue. I cringe just looking at it. Everything has been moved, and the emptiness echoes around me. I see spaces waiting to be filled...and maybe I will buy myself a new piano. After all, a close friend once said...if I can't have love, I will have substitutes. Dawn sees me greeting a new day with red eyes and an infinite sense of melancholy. I met my partner yesterday. We'll be taking on two shifts today. I'm safe, for the moment, having told all the right lies. I'll be weary come tomorrow morning. 24 hours from now. 16 hours on two consecutive shifts. I'll scream if I'm paired with the resident bitch tomorrow. Or maybe I'll just rip her head off, since it looks like I'll be in that kind of mood. I slept all through the night, ignoring the call of the darkness, preferring instead to catch up on much needed sleep. I awoke some time after 12, my insides aching with hunger. I've been reading ever since, listening to music, anything to silence my mind. I don't know if it worked. My mood is incredibly foul this morning, and I half-fancy ditching everyone and everything and looking for peace somewhere. *sigh* I think I like my new partner. He's nice, quiet, gentle, incredibly patient. It's his friends I think I might not like. After all, during my nightwatch, I hate making small talk with strangers. That's the whole point of my request for a graveyard shift. Duh? *sigh* At the very least, I'll have time to practice my fake smiles and the stupid lies that accompany such hypocrisies. Or maybe I'll just retire upstairs and leave him to deal with the other morons. I know I'm doing what most people do: throwing myself whole-heartedly into my work to ignore the turmoil raging on within. With my mind focused on my work, I don't have time to dwell on the mortal pain that dogs my every step. 16 hours. Nightwatch. Sleep. Only two things I want to do at the moment. The sun has risen. In less than four hours, I have to go get ready. I suppose it's a blessing in disguise, and it won't hurt to have a new toy to fill up the gaps in my heart. I'll have to start looking for good pianos, then. *bitter* I guess you outgrow everything, even when you don't want to. Times change, and we're supposed to change with them. I don't feel like seeing anyone for a long, long time. I'll exhaust myself keeping up with Juf and Su. Then maybe, I won't feel. Maybe then the emptiness will cease to trouble me.
When this mortal flesh and heart shall fail,
and mortal life shall cease;
I shall possess, within the veil,
a life of joy and peace.

Psychic Blocks

The time has come for me to pull away. My parents are selling their houses. My mum has stopped paying for me, and suddenly all the pain of the world that I've experienced is nothing compared to this revelation. They're moving away, and I'm not going with them. I remain here, and I am pushing everyone away.
Hold me now; I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking...maybe six feet ain't so far down.

Psychic Nightwatch

Having tossed and turned in my corner for well over two hours, I am now forced to conclude that insomnia has me in its unrelenting grip. I will take up the mantle tonight on zero hours of sleep. I will be meeting my permanent partner today, at 7pm. Tomorrow will be me and the usual crew, and then starting from Monday onwards, it's just the two of us. I can't quite tell whether I'll be happy with the arrangements, because I haven't actually met this guy. The information I have managed to glean from the rest does not bode well for him, though. I was seriously tempted to let loose last night, and explode at our resident bitch, but then I sighed and let go of my rising anger, turning my attention instead to the upper floors. I glided off, leaving her to fend for herself while I sorted out the mess upstairs. Nearly got into another fistfight too, for all my pretence at keeping a cool head when pressured. Not with her, but with some bastard who pissed me off. I think it becomes automatic for me, when things start to get ugly, I review the weapons I have on hand to defend myself. Yeah, thanks dad. Finally. One lesson you managed to teach me. Thankfully, he walked out and didn't return for the rest of the night. I stoned for a while, my muscles aching from the physical exertions, then left quietly at 7am, surprised when my schedule was pushed up to 7pm tonight. That is nine hours away. I have no hope of resting today. Thankfully, I'll finish by 11pm, and I'll be home by midnight. I am already boneweary, from all the bitchfights and repressed emotions of the night. I got hit on by some dude, who obviously didn't know what he was biting into. Didi sniggered, Sumi shrieked her head off, trying to pry him away from me, and I had my first real laugh of the night. It helped to restore some of my energy, which was sorely lacking, I must admit. Funny how everyone seems to think I'm straight, at least until I correct them, if I bother to do so at all. Sometimes watching them hang on to their illusions is mildly amusing. All in all, it was a tiring night. I feel like someone's tossed me in a shake-n-bake bag and left me out to wilt under the sun. *siiiigh* I am going to request straight graveyard shifts. The mornings are a real killer. Didi's been under three consecutive shifts, and looks like the kid's about to pass out. Sumi got a bit weird at the end of my watch, when she lectured me on what to expect from my partner. I can't deny that I'm a bit worried. I've got quite enough on my plate at the moment, without having to keep an eye out for someone else. He doesn't sound very trustworthy. *reflective* A guy caused some chaos tonight, which caused the bitch to rear her head, which in turn caused me to lose my temper. I stormed off, fed-up with it all, slamming the glass doors behind me. From behind the glass, I saw him raise a hand to me and smile ruefully. My initial annoyance melted away. Didn't help that he looked so reminiscently of R. He came back later, but I was already upstairs, working my way furiously through the crap the previous shifts had left on the stairs, bottles everywhere, tossed haphazardly here and there. Flirted a bit, here and there with both Didi and some of the other guys. Talked of condoms and sex, and homosexuality. I suspect there's something going on between Didi and Sumi. Didi blushed magnificently when I asked directly, and evaded the question, joking that I ought to go figure it out myself. I shrugged, although my eyes noted how close they were, and how protective Didi was of Su. I whiled away the hours till sunrise by wandering through my mind, recalling forgotten memories to the surface, singing songs in languages I don't quite understand quietly under my breath. Didi and Su are trying to figure me out, trying to gauge me, my capabilities and my trustworthiness. I pretended not to notice, and continued stoning while watching the dark skies lighten gradually. I think I failed two of their tests last night. But by the time morning rolled around, I was already too tired to care. I still am, and I'm wondering if it's worth the energy drain to eat. I'm vaguely hungry, but I know that I am definitely tired. Eating will take up more energy than it will replenish, especially given the fact that my fridge is stocked with snacks, not meats I am accustomed to devouring. The minutes tick by...if I am to get any rest, I suppose I should try now. It won't do to meet my future nightpartner on no sleep. In any case, I am quite interested in meeting him myself. From what I've heard, he's quiet, rarely talks, but is unreliable. *shrugs* I'll find out eventually. I always do. Now I've got to go try to get some sleep.

Psychic Purge

The rain has been an endless flood; Heaven's siege against the filth of the world we live in. The chill air cuts like a knife, penetrating through flesh and bone, seeping into my very soul, fragmented as it is. So it begins. I have unwittingly shackled myself and bound my wings with yet another responsibility. Again, the urge to just break free and fly far away is almost overwhelming. I've decided to stick it out for the time being. It isn't particularly demanding, or challenging. I may never see the night skies again. Once this stint is over, I'll be incarcerated along with hundreds of other men. It pinches slightly, that fact. Knowing that my nightly walks have come to an end, that I may never again sit with felines in a garden that whispers under moonlight and blossom-scented breezes gliding around me. *sigh* The descent into normality begins. Today marks the second day of my return to society. Normalcy. Just another word for conformity. And heaven knows I hate conforming. Speaking of heaven...the storms echo what I have been trying to do deep within my heart. Except instead of purging the world of filth, I on the other hand, have been trying to cleanse myself of this emotion, of these feelings that I cannot for the life of me scythe away from my being. I fear it will never leave me, unlike everything else. *sigh* I can't deny that I am rested, having slept the entire day. Is this how it shall be now? I will forever be nocturnal (nautical? haha) and doomed to wander the earth only at night. Ah, I'm being dramatic. Still, my mind has already started balancing out what can be done to salvage sinking ships. There is much I can do, that I have to do, and I know J's reaction has been the catalyst for my rollercoaster emotions these past few days. Up and down, left and right. *rolls eyes* It is now 7:30pm. I'm already looking forward to 7:30AM, when I can lie down and sleep yet another day away. *sighs* Time for me to get up and get dressed, I think. I wonder who my partner will be tonight. *muses* I hope it's someone lively. I need the entertainment to keep my mind off darker paths. *siiiiiiighs* Time to go. It is small comfort that I have finally taken one tiny step in life.
Purge my heart of these emotions- "We're creatures of the underworld. We can't afford to love." How true.

Psychic Shadowing

I am exhausted, and I feel shadowed. Not completely darkened, not yet. For the light J has lent to me still burns within my heart. But still...I can sense the shadows moving restlessly in every nook and cranny within this dark castle. When Night descends, they will be out in full force, beckoning me to join them on their nightly sojourn. The shadows leave telltale marks on those they have claimed. On my person, these marks have lessened over the years. I have spent so long marveling at the healing touch of the sun that these sigils of darkness have all but faded, gaining strength only when I am troubled, or tired. And now I am both. My eyes burn, and I know that in a few hours, when the sun reaches its zenith, they will turn red. My lack of sleep has not helped. I drifted off for less than fifteen minutes before coming back to full consciousness with a resounding crash. Dark thoughts swirl through my head, and I know my current habit of drawing energy from music and other assorted sources will fail me today. *sigh* Although my heart twinges a little at the thought, I am rather glad that I will not be facing him today. I hardly have the strength to move. So much that I have to do. My energy is not sufficient to complete all my responsibilities for the day...*muses* Well. I suppose I'll have to stretch myself a bit thin today. *sigh* I hate it when I've come to the end of my sleep cycle. I always end up feeling exhausted, collapse on the floor, and hibernate for a full twenty-four hours. Then I spend the next few days frittering my renewed energy thoughtlessly. On and on it goes. I have to go now. I have to get dressed, not to mention a possible dinner party to attend. On zero hours of rest. Madness, I tell you. *shakes head* Time was I could have stayed awake for well over four days and still have enough energy to go out and paint the town red. Guess I'm growing old. Two days appears to be my maximum limit. Well, today shall be a test of my old skills.
The shadows are returning. Even you, J, cannot stop them from reaching me.

Psychic Surprises

The day was full of surprises. I was on my best behaviour, and that included smiling and making small talk. No mean feat, I can tell you. I think my face is permanently screwed into a grin now. The day was cool, sweeping breezes that raced around my estate like excited children, bringing with them a warning of stormy days ahead. The storm broke out while I was having dinner with some of my extended family members. Steamboat. Yum. After dinner, I walked around, keeping myself aloof and distant, parrying probing questions with the ease of long practice. I couldn't help but be drawn in by their warmth, though, and he kept pulling me into the conversation, trying to provoke laughter from me. He even offered me a job, promising to work everything out by tomorrow. I laughed, a real laugh this time, and he invited me on an overseas trip with them. He said I have to hang out with him more. I couldn't help but feel very taken with him. His wife was very sweet too, and the two of them kept me mentally busy with their quick repartees and witty comebacks. Mmm. Their dry humor and quick wits are a match for me, I think. They make quite a pair. I had initially dreaded this 'family meeting', but overall, I think I am glad that I went in the end. I didn't have time to sort through all these new emotions that I encountered while I was out with them; I was simply too tired. His eyes studied me, and he tried his best to draw me out of my shell. Somehow, instead of making me wary and putting my defences into overdrive, they managed to lighten my view of familial ties and emotional bonds in general. I observed quietly as they gently teased each other, and I felt something within me stir. None of my thoughts or emotion showed on my face, though. But I think he knew what was going through my head, anyway. He's just one of those people whose gaze seems to bore right through you. I like this odd couple. There. I've gone and surprised myself. Anyway, I've finally worn through the pants my dad bought for me. *sad* I bought new jeans on my aunt's request, but I refused to throw the old ones out. My dad bought that for me last year. He was pretty insistent. It's not the material things that count, it's the emotions and memories that I treasure. Anyway, my aunt seemed to understand that the pants were pretty important to me, and she offered to get them mended at the tailor's. Not ten minutes after we arrived at our doorstep, the heavy clouds unleashed their wrath. Yet another surprise. This morning, all I'd gleaned from the winds was a light, cooling shower. This was an all-out thunderstorm. I watched drowsily until the sheets of torrential rains quickly destroyed any visibility. Reluctantly, I crawled into my corner and closed my eyes, finally getting some sleep after a few days of emotional upheaval. I say upheaval because I'm so used to being gloomily depressed and dark, that being cheerful is quite a strange experience for me. It has been rather pleasant, on the whole. I've never been more content, really. I've taken care of some of my more pressing issues, and again, it is another night of peaceful rest. Still, constant vigilance eh? The morning might bring a breeze of unpleasantness. But for now, I'm content to drink my chilled water and watch my shows with a heart as light as air.

Psychic Ascension

I can't say it was what I wanted. Nor can I claim that I expected this. But I cannot deny the fact that after all the pain, healing has begun. The wounds are still in the process of recovering, though, therefore I reminded myself to step cautiously. Yet nothing can take away my prize: half a day's worth of conversation with J. I was moping around all morning, and even the prospect of playing the piano at the Esplanade could not cheer me up. While I was chilling near the piano, however, my phone vibrated. When I saw who the message was from, the effect was instantaneous. A big goofy grin on my face, and my fingers were sparkling with zest. I could never be too busy for J. See how important he is? He even takes precedence over my piano. We laughed, we talked. We talked. Can you believe it? *grins* We remembered, each wincing at the unsaid pain from the past. Then came the big question. "Do you still have feelings for me?" Well, the answer is pretty obvious. For all my mastery at illusions, my skills at deception, I can never lie to the one I love. I went home pretty happy, I must say. I can hardly remember the details of yesterday. All that matters was that we talked. A precious memory indeed. One boy, one man. Capable of altering my entire world with a single simple gesture. The power he has over me is astounding, is it not? Yet that is love. Both foolish and grand, sweepingly awe-inspiring and piercingly painful at the same time. It feels like I've walked across the entire globe, crossed countries in a single day. I am invincible again, in the mystical kavach of love. I feel the fires of my heart burning strongly once more, where once there were only embers and dying faith. I have ascended yet again, although I know my heart is capricious in nature. One day full of vibrant life, the next a cosmic drain, sucking all the life out of everything I lay my eyes upon. Still, I am undeniably happy. A conversation that I know I will secretly cherish for weeks to come, even if I remain coldly detached from the events that rippled outwards from that one step. But no, my emotional frost remains unchanged. I cannot deny that my illusions slipped yesterday, allowing me to express one brief flash of euphoria, tempered with insecurities and blunted with painful experiences. Today I'm back to being me, with my defences back up and my cold, uncaring mask firmly fixed in place. But I know my spirit has ascended another notch, that much closer to the peace I so desperately seek. I feel slightly giddy from the turn of events. Or maybe that's because I have spent another night awake, steeped in the stew of my muses as they add a pinch of this and a dash of that into my lightly inebriated mind. Ascension. *content* The breezes have been flowing strongly around my room, cool with the morning and full of promises. J cheered me up immensely, and suddenly the old hopes and dreams come flooding back. All is not lost, after all. There are many things for me to be thankful for on this fine, glorious morning. But hey. You shouldn't take my words too seriously, for I know tomorrow my mood might have just done a one-eighty. Well...I've been grinning like a cheshire cat for more than twelve hours. I suppose it is time for me to drift off to sleep, now that the breezes carry within them a tinge of heat from the sun. Yeah, I suppose I should. Soon. Let me just savour the sweetness of the moment a while longer. 3 years of hoping for forgiveness have not passed by unnoticed, and my heart is at peace. It took 3 years for me to find that, and that...is a true victory. The chapter on my messy and rocky history with J has been closed, and I can sleep peacefully.
Elevation.

Psychic Slumber

A few hours from now, when the sun reaches its peak, I will be safely ensconced in my billowy blankets in my corner, fast asleep. I have spent the past few days on an insomniac high, running on nothing more than adrenaline and pure energy drawn from my trusty sources. I've spent the night watching anime, tinkling on the ivories, reading beautiful works of art created by esteemed writers: macabre tales of dark love and forbidden arts. The recurring theme of death and loss amused me for the greater part of the night. Now I am tired, after three days of resisting sleep. A faint buzzing noise fills my ears; a warning. "Sleep now, lest you collapse, demon-child!" Ah, I always get a bit weird when I've not slept for a while, so bear with me. At least I'd eaten. If I hadn't, my strangeness would have escalated a few more levels. Wandered in and out of waking nightmares too, in the intermissions between focused activities. I lay down, and I remembered more memories I'd suppressed, although I felt oddly detached from what my mind restored. Then I fancied I was a different person. More...normal. Unwilling giggles escape my lips at that odd thought. No more dancing under the moon at night, no more communing with the winds, asking for healing and receiving it in intangible ways, feeling the trees sigh at the slightest shiver of a breeze. My mood lightened as I remembered moonlit adventures, and I tried to picture J. He's been feeling a bit down lately, I know. I felt slightly depressed when I realised I couldn't help him. I zeroed in on my black and white companion, and started playing. Songs of love lost and forgotten. Each note sang for me, for him, for what used to be. For the travesty of a sacred emotion, condescension that was masquerading as love. I drew on that deep and powerful emotion residing within me, called on it to empower me as I lasted through the night. Now the sun is here, and I am unbelievably tired. Three days of dancing around my body's exhaustion, and I have reached the end of my rope. *bows* I still have errands to run for the day, ones that I don't believe I can put off. But my need and desire for sleep and the accompanying dreams overwhelm my responsibilities. I can never be trusted, in any way, except when it comes to what I've given to J. That will stay true for years to come. I can feel my mind beginning to drift, and I don't fancy having to fight to come back again. It's time for me to crawl into my corner under the light, fluffy blue cloth that is my only covering when I separate soul from body. Isn't that what sleep is? Your soul leaves your body? There will be many things to face when I have fully rested, but for once, I'll take things as they come and ignore that terrible entity Foresight and his close kin Apprehension. I think I've used up all my energy last night, in allowing my mind to skip and flit from activity to activity. I am, as I believe I've said before, tired, so I think I'll go curl up in my usual corner. The ground will be wonderfully cooling in the heat of the day. I don't think I'll wake until long after sundown. J, I meant what I said over the weekend. I really am sorry, for all the stupid things I've said and done.
As I lay me down to sleep, I pray to God my soul to keep.

Psychic Infernum

First up, infernum is not English, it's Latin. Secondly, if thou art curious about what it means, go look it up. I'm feeling incredibly moody and slightly 'heaty'. By 'heaty' I mean temperamental. My temper seems to be bubbling under the surface recently. Outwardly, I look placid and calm. But inside, the thoughts are swirling around like a flock of ravens that keep tearing at my soul. The resentment, the regrets, the rage. That's what frightens me the most. My rage. Very few have seen me at the height of my anger, and that is a good thing. Terrible and vaguely inspiring as my anger can be, I do not want it to be directed at anyone. Simply because I think it is unfair that I can hurt so much with just a few choice words, and I always regret the damage done. It doesn't take a lot to push my buttons these days, and I often find myself flaring up at the smallest thing, and when that happens, my silences are deafening. I don't trust myself to speak when anger has me in its fiery grip. The winds were cool and soothing as I walked across the black tar tonight, and for a moment, my anguish was eased. That moment vanished as soon as I slammed the door, shutting out the night that has so often been instrumental in my recovery from life's blows. Darkness is not what I seek tonight, not when I find myself a few steps away from hell. Try as I may, my illusions are useless when truth seeks me out, as it always does. I can fool many people, but not myself. I suppose there is nothing to be done for it, except to hit back in subtle ways, because to unleash the full extent of my wrath would mean opening the doors to hell. Hellish I may seem to certain people, but my dark age has passed. Past erased from my mind and everything, except certain memories I like to reflect upon as warnings. I've turned my back on it. I suppose typing this all out helps to dampen my fires. *sigh* I suppose now I'll have to go catch a movie or degrade my intelligence by watching TV. Sleep has eluded me for some time, even though I was boneweary this morning. *shrugs* I think I'll spend my day at my parents' tomorrow. Piano and home comfort. There is every chance I could open a portal to hell there too, given my current disposition. Ah, well. It can't be helped.
"I also maintain that those who are punished in Gehenna, are scourged by the scourge of love. Nay, what is so bitter and vehement as the torment of love?...It would be improper for a man to think that sinners in Gehenna are deprived of the love of God...it torments sinners...Thus I say that this is the torment of Gehenna: bitter regret."
I seek relief from the fires of my own hell.

Psychic Driftings

I had a violent reaction to my dinner. Threw everything up, and had to clean my bathroom. Painful process, both my puking session and the cleanup after. I collapsed facedown in my corner and drifted off in dreams of sepia-toned memories. J isn't coming back. I waited two days for my phone to vibrate with a message from him, and still it remains quiet. R has vanished again, and I am forcibly reminded of the time he went off to face his personal demons and we lost contact for two years. *sigh* The night is deep, inky blackness that flows around me, weaving past light sources, racing to get to me. Talking to Aimi last night revealed something I hadn't really thought of. I was laughing with her, consoling her on her insane phone bill, when she said out of the blue, "You don't usually talk about yourself." Caught off-guard, I had no comeback. A rarity in itself, really. A memory came back to me last night, after I hung up the phone, feeling slightly wrong-footed. It happens a lot these days, for some reason. I can be out, walking in the sunlight, when suddenly shadow falls over me and I recall another painful memory. These episodes are brief, but they are the price I have to pay to keep my pain at bay, I suppose. The erasure of most of my past leaves me feeling slightly disillusioned, and sometimes I feel that something's missing from me, that I'm not quite whole. *stretches* I have...a few cherished memories from when I was younger. Not a lot, I guess...but...the terrors far outweigh the good ones. Seeing things that to this day still haunt me. *muses* Feeling things people only describe in nightmares. I don't quite know, actually, what the purpose of this early morning post is. Maybe I'm just trying to distract myself, because again, I know I cannot sleep. Dawn is not far off now, only a few hours away. I will be forced to reside in Sembawang when the weekend arrives, and only the knowledge that sunrise in that mansion will be infinitely more beautiful keeps me from rebelling and refusing to stay there. I don't want to see him, and face the unspoken recriminations that I know linger on in his mind. The questions of what passed between father and son will never be answered. I don't know. It seems everyone is preoccupied with trying to get me to start living, but I keep clinging on to that picture in my mind. Green fields and lavender blossoms, a warm gentle breeze, blue skies and that elusive feeling of contentment. I'm still trying to figure out if I have a right to live, to love. I feel so indescribably lonely, with only the thoughts in my head and my fingers to express myself on both my keyboards. My illness has come and gone in a flash, and I fancy I've expunged my emotions out with the contents of my stomach hours ago. The stars twinkle above me, I can sense them, tiny pinpricks of light, and the moon...I've wasted one month's worth of a beautiful full moon. I spend most of my nights cooped up in my room these days. The past week has been emotionally unstable. Ups and downs galore. The frantic glee I felt at my expanded library of musical sheet music, tempered with the knowledge that I might be heading up to a dead end, emotional explosions with the various people I care about, my own fire dying down to embers. And on this morning, here I am, hoping for a storm to break the heat of day, and wishing my angels would return to their rightful places in the circle around me. *sigh* In my mind, I can hear his laughter when he reads these words, his emotions as guarded as my own. We both dropped our guards years ago, and I fear the scars from that experience will embitter us forever. Well, now. My bedtime draws nearer, as the moon begins to die. I've all but given up on life itself.
'Seek and ye shall find.' I have sought for 19 long years, but peace I have never known, and perhaps may never find.