In Continuum.

Covered in Rain

In these days with the world gettin colder
She spends more time sleeping over
Than I planned
Tonight we're gonna order in
Drinkin wine and watchin CNN
It dark I know but then again
It's the brightest thing I've got...

August,2006.I think this is a month full of...it.You know,one of those months in the year when everything you loathe,happens.You dont really know why they always gather during the same short peroid of time,but when they do you just feel like tearing your hair out and strangle somebody off the streets.Because considering all the stuff that ive been through in August alone,i think if i get a hundred dollars for every misfortune i couldve been halfway to my own million mark right now.

Handphone,money,iPod lost,then came the ultimate hit: My computer crashed yesterday morning.I woke up just as usual,and turned on my computer with my left toe,then went on out to have breakfast.When i came back,Windows was still starting up,and it just kept restarting over and over again.Got it fixed,and the nice technical guy(Who didnt charge me a single cent)told me that Windows crashed.He did everything he could to prevent the flat-lining of my C Drive data,but they're all gone.Just...gone.

Let's make a sort of list now.I lost a lot of my songs,especially the older ones,my novels and short stories,the songs i wrote,pictures from India,Coldplay,the things my friends sent over,as well as the programs that worked in my computer.

I admit,i was realy frustrated then,and had my fingers running through my hair cursing my head off.But i recovered most of the stuff,save for the pictures(Which,thanks to Ahmad and QinYou,i retrieved some),so i guess that's the most i can ask for,right?It's as good as it gets.

It felt like this really major spring cleaning of sorts.A crazy woman you hire from some agency to do the cleaning for you,and she ends up clearing out everything in your room.Before you know it,they are in the middle of a rubbish hill off the coast,ready to be incinerated to become electrical power for the rest of your country.The very same electrical power that is generated might be the one used to light your neon tubes,as you open your door to discover the empty room,following by a ear-piercing scream and then a murder of the crazy maid.

That's the kind of spring cleaning you wouldnt want to have.Not during any season of the year,no way.So everything was gone,and seeing the empty folders which used to have pictures inside,sucked.It's that empty feeling in your heart,like something's missing.I know,there's something missing all the time.But,this hole is somewhat a lot more painful than...well,anything really.I hate the fact that i am a hopeless sentimentalist instead of a romantic.I am sentimental,so sue me for that.I keep the most mundane and useless stuff in my computer,despite not using them at all.Really,and the loss of those things,though every inch of my right sense is telling me that it is OKAY to lose some of the things,i still feel that prick of the tip of the needle against my heart.It sucks,but just what the hell can i do about it,really.

When I'm covered in rain, rain
When I'm covered in rain, rain, rain, rain
Now I'm covered in rain, rain
Covered in rain...

It's been too long since the last time anything happened.The slumps have gotten worse after the scorching summer sun came and went.The lot of us collapsed amongst rubbish piles,with flies minding their businesses over our heads and into our nostrils at times.The stench was excruciating,but in relative to the hunger that came from the lack of food,nobody cared about the smell anymore.Men rummaged through the dumps,looking for leftovers amongst dogs and cats,while others robbed or stole from unsuspecting members of our society.

The tides came and went,and it brought along with it only the filth from city from the bay.Oil spills,staining the beaches along our houses into a ugly black hue.Stained sand and slim,covered the sides of the rotten wood used to make the houses,and inside these houses the simplest of all daily necessities.In my house,a table rests at the far corner of it,and on top of that,leftovers from the dinner two days before.A spoon stuck out of it,and on it grains of rice attracting flies in swamps.I was on the chair,just staring at them,making our numbers and shapes,just admiring the colour of the light upon these flies wings,as they reflected into multi-colour rainbows.

I couldnt take myself,i couldnt take myself.We hated our state,but there wasnt much we could do about it.We were sentimentalists,not romantics.We dont move on,and we are always in the same place hoping for something and nothing to happen all at the same time.It's such a conflicting emotional state,everybody's in a state of mental arrest somehow,just a moment in time when everything is forgotten by ourselves and the outside world.The days grew old,and as day turns to night the beach turns cold.

The sea breeze was strong,and it threatened to blow our huts down like straws on strings.We held them together with more rotten wood,but they dont seem to work against the wrath of nature.So i cuddled up inside my house with a small fire raging in the middle of the house,with no flooring whatsoever.There i sat,alone with my back against the wall as a sort of support,afraid that once the house goes with the wind,my life is going to be gone with it.But what is my life now,in the first place?Just the summation of trash,dirt,filth and so much hate for myself.What is it worth,what is it worth?

I hooked out an old photograph from my pocket,now tattered and broken.It's an old photograph,now brown and worn out.A girl is in the picture,and she had her hair tied back in a neat ponytail.It was taken so long ago,and without a watch i've forgotten how long it has been.I've lost count of time,like so many other things in my life.I ran my thumb over her face,feeling the surface of the photograph,still smooth and soft,so fragile like the memory of her in his head,fleeing with the ticking of time,the creaking of rotten wood,the blast of the wind.I cried,and a drop of tear dropped onto the photograph.I wiped it,and then tried again,but the stain wouldnt go away.Like the house,like myself,everything is so stained and dirty now.So uncomfortable,where is the life that ive had before?

From fireworks to fireplaces,
Summer stole what fall replaces
And now we're people watching
All the people people watching us right back
Standing by the missing signs
At the CVS, by the checkout line
She puts her quiet hands in mine,
cause she's the brightest thing I've got...

A rumbled and then a distant roar.It didnt sound organic,no.It was the roar of something else,and the constance of it was scaring me.Everybody left their huts and risked their heads in the raging wind,and in the horizon,though dimly visible,a wall of wave was coming towards the shore at high speed.People screamed,and ran for their lives and some back into their house,which was folly against the might of the crash wave.It came,and swept,and rained hell on us on top of the rain now coming down on us hard like cannonballs.I held on to my dear life to a log sticking out of the beach,with my elbow wrapped around it like rope i hung on.The wave kept coming,and i felt my life flowing away with the currents,just allowing myself to succumb to the fate.

Just then,before i gave up,the waves went away.It brought along with it the houses,the filth of the village,and all that were left were the foundations of the houses.Just logs sticking out here and there,and the other villagers were nowhere to be seen now.I thought i heard screams from far off in the dark horizon,but soon they disappearing into the night,blending into the howling of the wind through the dark.

I was covered in wet mud then,like a bath of sorts then.I fingered my pocket,and panick took over me as i looked around the restricted space of my breast pocket.It was gone,i thought.Her picture,gone.I searched desperately amongst the mud,the wreckages.The beach and down by the shore.It was nowhere to be found,not even a trace of it.I thought i heard her screaming from the photograph,but how was that even possible?

I fought around in the water,as the waves came to the height of my ankles,licking it like millions of little tongues.The wind subsided,and everything died down into a dead silence.I found myself suddenly clean of all the dirt that ever decided to settle itself upon my body.And right then,as i kneeled by the shore with the water already up to my waist,i felt cleansed and clean.I felt,for the first time in so long,free from so many burdens of life.Sure,the picture was gone.My shelter was gone,but for that moment,just that moment,i was free...

And come december Lydia left.
She mentioned something bout it being for the best,
And I can't say I disagree, and its killing me.
and now Im standing facing west
tracing my fingers round her silouette
I havent gotten used to you
but its the best thing I got...