Seven
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Seven
It's been six months,eight days,twelve hours
Since you went away
I miss you so much and I don't know what to say
I should be over you
I should know better but it's just not the case
It's been six months, eight days, twelve hours
Since you went away
The world busied itself around me seven months ago,as i sat in my bunk on a tower of staked chairs,staring out of the window looking out into the untended soccer field across the monsoon drain,lining the western edge of my camp.Martin was scrambling around me with a broom,sweeping under the table and chairs,absolutely oblivious to the hell that i was going through,just sitting there quietly and almost motionlessly.Before me was a handphone,with it out of the pouch and just sitting there,waiting for some signal,while i stared at it blankly waiting for a vibration myself.And why was i doing so,i wondered.How stupid it was to wait upon a message,when i may potentially not come anymore.But it did,though soon enough they seized completely.
How could the world,move on with my woes burning my insides.You would think,or want,the world to grieve with you,to feel what you were feeling,because you thought there was no way people could just go on with their daily routines,when you were in such an emotional peril.But things like that happens,like the way the world watched as the Rwanda Genocide happened,people have their own lives to lead,their own goals to seek,and people dont stop for beggars at the side of the street no more.
This morning,the morning of the 8th of July,marks the seventh month anniversary since our little agreement.I still wonder how that thought came to you that fateful morning,or perhaps like the entry i posted earlier,that i made you feel like a whore?What a word,the word 'whore'.I love how raw it sounds,how deeply it pierce with so many interpretations of it.I wonder if you,in any way,felt that way about yourself because of me,which couldve been the reason why you made up your mind in the first place.Perhaps it was easier to end something which,never officially started.But then again,having not put in any emotions into the relationship,mustve made it so much easier for you but never for me.Never for me.
It is this troubling question of "How Long?" that troubles,because it is never long,or short enough for anything.A movie about the 9/11 incident,and everybody is going to say that it is too soon for that.But the truth is,there will never be a right time for it.Like a bad break up,there will never be a day whereby it's not going to hurt anymore.You dont hurt less,but you just become tougher,more hardy at dealing with such pains.I wondered if seven months is long enough for such pain,for enduring it for so long,for surely i deserve some sort of prize for standing up to it for this long,right?
Do you ever think about me?
Do you ever cry yourself to sleep?
In the middle of the night when you're awake,
Are you calling out for me?
Do you ever reminisce?
I can't believe I'm acting like this
I know it's crazy
How I still can feel your kiss
Seven months to me seems to be the right time to resume.I thought about it sure,but having the actual guts to do it is another matter altogether.I wonder why so many things come in sevens.Like the seven deadly sins in the bible,or seven wishes you get from the devil before you sell out your soul.Why not eight or six,i have no idea.Perhaps seven just sounds better,and it being the so-called "Lucky Number" must have elevated it's popularity in terms of the usage.
Seven months is approximately 210 days,which amounts up to 5040 hours,302400 minutes,or 18144000 seconds.It's funny how when you put everything in seconds,it always seem so short physically.But in truth,those 1814400 seconds of silence between me and you was excruciating,almost unbearable,till my index finger trembles above the left mouse button,during the days when you still came online and surfed the net in my presence.It hesitated then,wondering if it should fall,if i had the courage to talk to you again.But back then,during those 1814400 seconds,they never felt long enough.I never thought about myself,but rather you as a person,if my so-called "Intrusion" is going to have any effects on your life.But to you,it seems,you'd always need a second more to come up with a decision.
"For how long?",i asked. "I dont know." was the rather abrupt and ambiguous reply you gave to me.It's so easy to not-know anything.It's easy to dismiss something,to say that you have no idea why you did something,said something,thought about something.Because it wasnt you that conjured those thoughts,acted a certain way or said something.It's easy to turn some part of your brain off and just say,"I dont know",because in truth it is in you isn't it,to run away.
I know this seventh month anniversary isnt going to mean anything to you.I dont expect you,or myself,to make the first move to bridge this seven month old gap.It is probably not going to happen anytime soon,no matter how many seventh months come along in the coming years.It is just a milestone in the middle of nowhere,it doesnt mark anything,but a point on this long journey down the street.
Like the feeling i get when i am walking down the street,like the pair of watchful eyes i sense at the back of my neck,i always feel you reading this blog,like i still do with yours.I dont suppose i can paste pictures of the Virgin Mary outside your door,like the Lisbon sisters did with their neighbours,the way they passed message.I just assume that you are still reading,and that this one way communication thing is my only hope as to get you back to me.
In truth,im tired of all this waiting.Im tired of waiting for your "Dont Know" to become a definite "Know".I dont care if the end result will,in any way,please me.I just want to know your final verdict i guess,and not live in this world full of question marks hanging from apple trees(Wonder where that image came from).This is not a whining entry,nor is this a complaining letter.This is a cry out for help,for you to listen for once,that i am still here waiting for an absolution.
Do you ever ask about me?
Do your friends still tell you what to do?
Every time the phone rings,
Do you wish it was me calling you?
Do you still feel the same?
Or has time put out the flame?
I miss you
Is everything okay?
As they sky grew dark on Thursday night,as the orange and the violet melted into each other that evening,i stood under the HQ company block typing out a message i know i'd never send out anytime soon.I do that all the time,around people i dont know.To kill time you might say,the truth is i dont know myself why i did whatever i did.It was completely impulsive and improvised,and the fact that i did it was like a rock off my chest.And this is the message i typed,still quietly sitting in the archive of my handphone.
I hope this doesnt come across as being intrusive.I never meant for it to seem this way.I figured seven months is long enough to break our agreement,isnt it?If i cant forget about it in seven months,i dont suppose i will ever forget.
So what is it going to be?
Come back to me...
"...Tristan, I have no where to send this letter and no reason to believe you wish to receive it. I write it only for myself. And so I will hide it away with all things left unsaid and undone between us..."
--- Susannah Fincannon Ludlow,played by Julia Ormond from Legends of the Fall
It's been six months,eight days,twelve hours
Since you went away
I miss you so much and I don't know what to say
I should be over you
I should know better but it's just not the case
It's been six months, eight days, twelve hours
Since you went away
The world busied itself around me seven months ago,as i sat in my bunk on a tower of staked chairs,staring out of the window looking out into the untended soccer field across the monsoon drain,lining the western edge of my camp.Martin was scrambling around me with a broom,sweeping under the table and chairs,absolutely oblivious to the hell that i was going through,just sitting there quietly and almost motionlessly.Before me was a handphone,with it out of the pouch and just sitting there,waiting for some signal,while i stared at it blankly waiting for a vibration myself.And why was i doing so,i wondered.How stupid it was to wait upon a message,when i may potentially not come anymore.But it did,though soon enough they seized completely.
How could the world,move on with my woes burning my insides.You would think,or want,the world to grieve with you,to feel what you were feeling,because you thought there was no way people could just go on with their daily routines,when you were in such an emotional peril.But things like that happens,like the way the world watched as the Rwanda Genocide happened,people have their own lives to lead,their own goals to seek,and people dont stop for beggars at the side of the street no more.
This morning,the morning of the 8th of July,marks the seventh month anniversary since our little agreement.I still wonder how that thought came to you that fateful morning,or perhaps like the entry i posted earlier,that i made you feel like a whore?What a word,the word 'whore'.I love how raw it sounds,how deeply it pierce with so many interpretations of it.I wonder if you,in any way,felt that way about yourself because of me,which couldve been the reason why you made up your mind in the first place.Perhaps it was easier to end something which,never officially started.But then again,having not put in any emotions into the relationship,mustve made it so much easier for you but never for me.Never for me.
It is this troubling question of "How Long?" that troubles,because it is never long,or short enough for anything.A movie about the 9/11 incident,and everybody is going to say that it is too soon for that.But the truth is,there will never be a right time for it.Like a bad break up,there will never be a day whereby it's not going to hurt anymore.You dont hurt less,but you just become tougher,more hardy at dealing with such pains.I wondered if seven months is long enough for such pain,for enduring it for so long,for surely i deserve some sort of prize for standing up to it for this long,right?
Do you ever think about me?
Do you ever cry yourself to sleep?
In the middle of the night when you're awake,
Are you calling out for me?
Do you ever reminisce?
I can't believe I'm acting like this
I know it's crazy
How I still can feel your kiss
Seven months to me seems to be the right time to resume.I thought about it sure,but having the actual guts to do it is another matter altogether.I wonder why so many things come in sevens.Like the seven deadly sins in the bible,or seven wishes you get from the devil before you sell out your soul.Why not eight or six,i have no idea.Perhaps seven just sounds better,and it being the so-called "Lucky Number" must have elevated it's popularity in terms of the usage.
Seven months is approximately 210 days,which amounts up to 5040 hours,302400 minutes,or 18144000 seconds.It's funny how when you put everything in seconds,it always seem so short physically.But in truth,those 1814400 seconds of silence between me and you was excruciating,almost unbearable,till my index finger trembles above the left mouse button,during the days when you still came online and surfed the net in my presence.It hesitated then,wondering if it should fall,if i had the courage to talk to you again.But back then,during those 1814400 seconds,they never felt long enough.I never thought about myself,but rather you as a person,if my so-called "Intrusion" is going to have any effects on your life.But to you,it seems,you'd always need a second more to come up with a decision.
"For how long?",i asked. "I dont know." was the rather abrupt and ambiguous reply you gave to me.It's so easy to not-know anything.It's easy to dismiss something,to say that you have no idea why you did something,said something,thought about something.Because it wasnt you that conjured those thoughts,acted a certain way or said something.It's easy to turn some part of your brain off and just say,"I dont know",because in truth it is in you isn't it,to run away.
I know this seventh month anniversary isnt going to mean anything to you.I dont expect you,or myself,to make the first move to bridge this seven month old gap.It is probably not going to happen anytime soon,no matter how many seventh months come along in the coming years.It is just a milestone in the middle of nowhere,it doesnt mark anything,but a point on this long journey down the street.
Like the feeling i get when i am walking down the street,like the pair of watchful eyes i sense at the back of my neck,i always feel you reading this blog,like i still do with yours.I dont suppose i can paste pictures of the Virgin Mary outside your door,like the Lisbon sisters did with their neighbours,the way they passed message.I just assume that you are still reading,and that this one way communication thing is my only hope as to get you back to me.
In truth,im tired of all this waiting.Im tired of waiting for your "Dont Know" to become a definite "Know".I dont care if the end result will,in any way,please me.I just want to know your final verdict i guess,and not live in this world full of question marks hanging from apple trees(Wonder where that image came from).This is not a whining entry,nor is this a complaining letter.This is a cry out for help,for you to listen for once,that i am still here waiting for an absolution.
Do you ever ask about me?
Do your friends still tell you what to do?
Every time the phone rings,
Do you wish it was me calling you?
Do you still feel the same?
Or has time put out the flame?
I miss you
Is everything okay?
As they sky grew dark on Thursday night,as the orange and the violet melted into each other that evening,i stood under the HQ company block typing out a message i know i'd never send out anytime soon.I do that all the time,around people i dont know.To kill time you might say,the truth is i dont know myself why i did whatever i did.It was completely impulsive and improvised,and the fact that i did it was like a rock off my chest.And this is the message i typed,still quietly sitting in the archive of my handphone.
I hope this doesnt come across as being intrusive.I never meant for it to seem this way.I figured seven months is long enough to break our agreement,isnt it?If i cant forget about it in seven months,i dont suppose i will ever forget.
So what is it going to be?
Come back to me...
"...Tristan, I have no where to send this letter and no reason to believe you wish to receive it. I write it only for myself. And so I will hide it away with all things left unsaid and undone between us..."
--- Susannah Fincannon Ludlow,played by Julia Ormond from Legends of the Fall
This entry was posted
on Saturday, July 08, 2006 at 11:08 AM.
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