In Continuum.

Sophia, Sophia

5 o'clock and a fire escape symphony,
Spilling out across the road and the square,
And the sky's the same as your own, do you think of me?
Do the parks, and trees, and the leaves, reach you, there?

Sophia by Nerina Pallot has been on repeat on my iTunes for ever. I don't recall another song in recent memory, receiving this much airplay on my speakers other than perhaps Everyday by Carly Comando, which I play over and over on repeat for inspiration. Mckenzie, you should try to listen to this song, or have me send it to you. I swear it is going to get your creative juice boiling.

My interpretation of the song: A girl talking to her friend Sophia about the loss of her love, somehow. It feels like a desperate plead of a listening ear, even if this Sophia isn't exactly a close friend, or a friend at all, the girl doesn't care. She just want to be heard and wants to be talked to, because the nights alone are too long and too lonely for comfort. Yeah, I think I know what you mean Nerina. I know what you mean.

After the rain,
In the lonely hours
He haunts me, calling out,
Again and again.

After the break-up, there is an urge and temptation to want to know more people. Strangers, old friends, friends whom you have neglected over the years one reason or another. You just feel like talking to any of them in the deeps of the night just to get your mind off things, get lost amidst the stories of others rather than your own. There is something therapeutic I believe, in just talking and interacting, communicating and understanding this little space shared by two people. The way the words weave a story in mid-air and travels into one's head to be transformed into imagery and emotions. Yeah, I need that kind of therapy. I do need it.

The desperation becomes so intense, that even the cab driver or the security guard downstairs become my victim of conversation. Sometimes, I'm not even sure if I am the best listening ear or the best conversationist. The truth is, I prided myself in such things long ago, but nowadays I have no confidence in what I used to trust in myself anymore. It's like this break-up has cost me the confidence that I have painstakingly built throughout my time in the military. Now I am merely running about on the ashes of the past, rolling around in the puddle of mud making sickening splashing noises.

Sophia, Sophia, I'm burning, I'm burning.
It's a fire, it's a fire, I cannot put out,
Sophia, Sophia, I'm learning that some things,
I can't go without and one of those is him.

After those midnight walks I will end up standing at the guard house just talking to the security guard, while the night is still young for them. With the whole night stretching out before them and armed with a flask of coffee, the radio provided only so much comfort and company, and the rest was filled by this stranger talking to them: Me. I talk to them once in a while when I come back, just talking about anything at all for five minutes or so. Even that helps I guess, even the least human interaction. To know that even the strangest of the strangers care, that means a lot to me nowadays.

Every midnight cab driver is a lonely driver, one of them told me. Taking such a shift has it's ups and downs. You get higher rates, and relatively it is less hectic and more relaxing at night. But at the same time it is more dangerous at night, and it becomes more lonely too. Most of the passengers are drunkards, and you constantly turn back and wonder if he or she is going to destroy the synthetic leather seats with his or her throw up. But I like these conversations with cab drivers, a little knowledge on their lives even if it is for a short period of time. Just part of the people knowing journey that I am embarking on nowadays, I think I am becoming very desperate.

And now I walk these streets like a stranger in my home town,
Learn the language, form the words when I speak,
But he changed me, I'm his ghost since he came around,
And now I count the hours and the days in the weeks.

At the concert, I got to know a couple of friends and friend of friends. We exchanged emails and eventually ended up talking to each other on the internet. I knew Issac, but never really passed the acquaintance stage of things. YiHua seems to have the same twisted and diverse taste in music as myself, and that is a comforting thought to know that liking Chopin and Yeah Yeah Yeahs at the same time does not qualify me as a weirdo.

I am talking to Yilin and Janice more often nowadays, and I have no idea why. Just people whom I've known and added to my MSN list for the sake of doing so in the past, rediscovering them all over again. It is not about looking for a new girlfriend I can assure everybody, it's not about finding a replacement. After all, I accept people of all ages and all genders(Even old hags downstairs). It is the part about knowing somebody new that is intriguing me now, and I think that is how I am going to keep my mind off things, from now on.

Passion and silence,
Every word, every time, a measure,
It's the science of the soul,
And his books, they breathe a reason and now I want to know...

Talking to mckenzie - or kenzie - till 6am yesterday was a delightful experience. For one, this is one person whom I can choose to confide to and not have any sort of repercussions. She is all the way in Utah and fourteen hours behind me in time, like a being from another dimension of sorts, the concept is rather warped. But she doesn't feel alien at all, though I have yet to see her pictures. I'm not expecting her to appear on my screen, with eyes the size of a pancake and skin as green as green apples. At least I hope that is not going to happen, since red hair doesn't go with green skin, at all. She feels like a girl next door, the girl you ran to for comfort and then go back home when it is time for dinner.

Sure, there are so many stories out there just waiting for me to explore, just waiting for me to listen to. Dark and twisty or not, I don't care anymore. Just knowing new people to me, seems like the only thing I want to do now. And no Kenzie, I cannot start looking at myself, not just yet. I am still patiently waiting for these broken pieces to stitch themselves back together, just so that they will look remotely human again.

So before I have the courage to look within myself, I guess I am stuck with cab drivers, old friends, security guards, and friends from the other side of the globe. It isn't half as bad as it sounds, but like Nerina Pallot we are all searching for our own Sophia, aren't we? Just this person to listen to our woes and sorrows, in the lonely hours of the morning when nobody else seems to care. Especially when the one person you hope to never let you down, does. These people - my Sophias - then becomes the only source of comfort.

Sophia, Sophia, I'm burning, I'm burning,
It's a fire, it's a fire, I cannot put out,
Sophia, Sophia, I'm learning that some things,
I can't go without and one of those is him.

You, with your new born eyes,
Have you ever loved a man like I love him?
Do you hurt but still feel alive, like never before?
Oh, Sophia, Sophia.

Sophia, Sophia, I'm burning, I'm burning,
It's a fire, it's a fire, I cannot put out,
Sophia, Sophia, I'm learning that some things,
I can't go without and one of those is him.