What do you do when she's dreaming of someone else?
When her thoughts of fondness no longer revolve around you? When she yearns for a better time and place, a time and place that you were not a part of?
What do you say when you can't return but you can't bear to be replaced?
It is a poisonous pill, one that I have swallowed before. The bitterness, now washed away by love, time and reconciliation, is not easy to forget.
I am much too fair in my dealings with the fairer sex. Much to lenient, much to caring. Being selfish has its perks.
So let me ask you again; what do you do when she picks up the phone to call you for movies, but calls someone else for her problems?
What do you do when she laughs a little less heartily around you than when she's around another?
What do you do when you have done your best to be immovable, dependable, constant - and yet, all you have done is become emotionless, defiant, and cold?
Brick by brick I let you gently bring my walls down.
Brick by brick you build them back up around me now.
Brick by brick I return to the shadows that are my home.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Relentless
Things have been rather colder and perhaps even more darker on Park Row of late.
I warm my hands, and reach into my coat for my light. A sudden draft kicks against me, just as I spin the wheel of the lighter. The cigarette catches anyway, and I let the flame dance for a second longer than necessary. The cold is not new to me, but its constant presence is never something one can ever be fully accustomed to. It is a like a disease; manageable, and yet deadly.
The embers are a poor source of light, yet my eyes have adjusted enough to read the dial on my wrist. It's almost time.
I look up suddenly, as a subtle movement in the shadows catches my attention. When everything is still, the slightest move is like a gunshot in a tomb.
I lie still, pressing myself against the wall, fingering the peeling plaster of a dilapidated building behind me as my eyes scan the darkness. Tense; I feel my chest harden as my breathing automatically slows and softens.
I wait.
And I wait.
The cigarette has long been extinguished, and there is total darkness now as my eyes scan the shadows.
Something is there. I can feel it.
They say patience is a virtue. This isn't patience though. This is being relentless. This is survival.
Slowly my limbs show the first signs of going numb. I don't move.
A chill breeze picks up, cutting through my clothes like a knife. Still, I don't move, for I feel a much deeper chill that is threatening to run down my spine.
"I will outlast you"; I think to myself.
And then -
I see it.
Slowly, it moves up the alley opposite with surprising stealth, almost floating along, not leaving a sound. If I hadn't been looking straight at it, I may not have seen it.
"But I was looking for you, you bastard"; I tell myself.
I feel the tinges of a smile spread across my lips.
"I've got you now."
Just a graphical representation of my state of mind at the moment. Make of it what you will.
I warm my hands, and reach into my coat for my light. A sudden draft kicks against me, just as I spin the wheel of the lighter. The cigarette catches anyway, and I let the flame dance for a second longer than necessary. The cold is not new to me, but its constant presence is never something one can ever be fully accustomed to. It is a like a disease; manageable, and yet deadly.
The embers are a poor source of light, yet my eyes have adjusted enough to read the dial on my wrist. It's almost time.
I look up suddenly, as a subtle movement in the shadows catches my attention. When everything is still, the slightest move is like a gunshot in a tomb.
I lie still, pressing myself against the wall, fingering the peeling plaster of a dilapidated building behind me as my eyes scan the darkness. Tense; I feel my chest harden as my breathing automatically slows and softens.
I wait.
And I wait.
The cigarette has long been extinguished, and there is total darkness now as my eyes scan the shadows.
Something is there. I can feel it.
They say patience is a virtue. This isn't patience though. This is being relentless. This is survival.
Slowly my limbs show the first signs of going numb. I don't move.
A chill breeze picks up, cutting through my clothes like a knife. Still, I don't move, for I feel a much deeper chill that is threatening to run down my spine.
"I will outlast you"; I think to myself.
And then -
I see it.
Slowly, it moves up the alley opposite with surprising stealth, almost floating along, not leaving a sound. If I hadn't been looking straight at it, I may not have seen it.
"But I was looking for you, you bastard"; I tell myself.
I feel the tinges of a smile spread across my lips.
"I've got you now."
Just a graphical representation of my state of mind at the moment. Make of it what you will.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Liar Liar
There is a lot of competition in the world. After all, we're all just animals, living in the urban jungle. Corporate life, family life, love life or any other part of life is a big competition to survive.
The 'rat-race'.
To get ahead, you have to strike first. You have to be cunning, smart, think on your feet.
And you have to lie.
It's just life; people lie. And if we want to get ahead in life, either we should lie better, or we should learn to tell when we are being lied to.
I am very good at that.
Sure, most people boast about being able to tell when someone is lying, but I have actually proved it. It's like a 'gift', and though I'm not always right, in this 'jungle' we live in, better to be right often than wrong all the time.
You would think I'd be happy about this. Not entirely.
Because people lie a lot.
And now, I have grown chronically suspicious of everyone. Sadly, most of the time, my suspicions are justified.
It is a gift I would part with in a second.
Lie to me.
The 'rat-race'.
To get ahead, you have to strike first. You have to be cunning, smart, think on your feet.
And you have to lie.
It's just life; people lie. And if we want to get ahead in life, either we should lie better, or we should learn to tell when we are being lied to.
I am very good at that.
Sure, most people boast about being able to tell when someone is lying, but I have actually proved it. It's like a 'gift', and though I'm not always right, in this 'jungle' we live in, better to be right often than wrong all the time.
You would think I'd be happy about this. Not entirely.
Because people lie a lot.
And now, I have grown chronically suspicious of everyone. Sadly, most of the time, my suspicions are justified.
It is a gift I would part with in a second.
Lie to me.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
Fake Forwards
I got this sickeningly sappy email at work today. It was a slide show, with pictures of flowers on each slide along with a saying that was supposed to 'warm and melt my heart'. Let me share a few.
"The only reason that anyone would hate you, is because they want to be just like you"
"A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they do not like you"
"You are special and unique. Someone you don't even know, LOVES you"
"Always remember the compliments you receive, forget about the rude remarks"
"I would rather have one rose and a kind word from a friend while I am here, than a whole truckload when I am gone"
You have got to be joking. I don't know which is worse, the fact that someone actually expects hearts to 'melt' while reading this or the fact that someones heart probably did.
There are lot of reasons someone would hate you. The trick is to figure out what they are and bury them.
Sure, keep smiling, but remember nothing gets you through life better than a good poker face.
You are special and unique. But 'someone you don't even know' probably doesn't know that. That same somone probably never will.
9 times out of 10, those rude remarks are more constructive than any flowery compliment. Ignore at your own peril.
As for the last one - I agree.
The biggest question in life is not "why are we here?", but rather, "who will miss me when I'm gone?". I don't necessarily mean that in a morbid way, it's applicable to any situation not just death. I like to kid myself into thinking I'm 'special and unique' and that every situation would be the worse without me, but life is about realising where we are needed and where we are not; where we are wanted, and where we are not.
... and who needs us, and who does not; who wants us, and who does not..
Yeah, let me see you forward that...
"The only reason that anyone would hate you, is because they want to be just like you"
"A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they do not like you"
"You are special and unique. Someone you don't even know, LOVES you"
"Always remember the compliments you receive, forget about the rude remarks"
"I would rather have one rose and a kind word from a friend while I am here, than a whole truckload when I am gone"
You have got to be joking. I don't know which is worse, the fact that someone actually expects hearts to 'melt' while reading this or the fact that someones heart probably did.
There are lot of reasons someone would hate you. The trick is to figure out what they are and bury them.
Sure, keep smiling, but remember nothing gets you through life better than a good poker face.
You are special and unique. But 'someone you don't even know' probably doesn't know that. That same somone probably never will.
9 times out of 10, those rude remarks are more constructive than any flowery compliment. Ignore at your own peril.
As for the last one - I agree.
The biggest question in life is not "why are we here?", but rather, "who will miss me when I'm gone?". I don't necessarily mean that in a morbid way, it's applicable to any situation not just death. I like to kid myself into thinking I'm 'special and unique' and that every situation would be the worse without me, but life is about realising where we are needed and where we are not; where we are wanted, and where we are not.
... and who needs us, and who does not; who wants us, and who does not..
Yeah, let me see you forward that...
Friday, July 2, 2010
If I Should Die Before I Wake
What do you dream of?
Did you know that there is a an entire branch of study dedicated to dreams? Try going through the wikipedia page; it's called oneirology, and it's exhaustive. There is just theory after theory after theory, all trying to figure out why we dream of skydiving, old flames, work, lust, fantasy and even murder. To name a few.
Some say dreams have meanings. They point you to what you're really feeling but afraid to admit to. I'm not so sure.
If it were me, I would ask you - what's the last thing you think of before you sleep?
No, not that conscious thought. Not the "oh tomorrow I have to do this and this...". Not the "what a shite day today was...".
That last flicker of thought. The final neuron flare that occurs just before you leave the world of consciousness. That dying ember of realisation as you fall into oblivion.
Try it out tonight. Let me know what you find out.
Because for me, that final wakeful thought is much more terrifying than any imagined dream.
Did you know that there is a an entire branch of study dedicated to dreams? Try going through the wikipedia page; it's called oneirology, and it's exhaustive. There is just theory after theory after theory, all trying to figure out why we dream of skydiving, old flames, work, lust, fantasy and even murder. To name a few.
Some say dreams have meanings. They point you to what you're really feeling but afraid to admit to. I'm not so sure.
If it were me, I would ask you - what's the last thing you think of before you sleep?
No, not that conscious thought. Not the "oh tomorrow I have to do this and this...". Not the "what a shite day today was...".
That last flicker of thought. The final neuron flare that occurs just before you leave the world of consciousness. That dying ember of realisation as you fall into oblivion.
Try it out tonight. Let me know what you find out.
Because for me, that final wakeful thought is much more terrifying than any imagined dream.
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