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Confessions Part 2

Monday, November 12, 2007

Confessions Part 2

When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone,
When you're sure you've had enough of this life, well hang on.
Don't let yourself go, everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes.


I woke up this morning with a throbbing headache, the kind that beats on your temples like the drums of a heavy metal concert. I was reluctant to wake up, despite the fact that it was already eleven on the clock, or perhaps a few minutes after that. I needed to get the day started, to do something before my mind becomes consumed by mold and other decomposed matters of the past. I needed to get the research paper done, I needed to get some studying nailed down. Perhaps a little household chores to get my mind off things, maybe to clear up the pile of papers on my table. Or maybe I should make a trip down to the mall to get my hair disheveled, or borrow a few films from Gardens and watch myself silly. Yeah, I should buy some more movies from Amazon.com, make myself button-happy. I need something to take my mind off...things. I'm losing my mind, am I not? Yeah, I'm losing it.

So I began the day by fixing the doorbell for my mother. I guess being the tallest person and the only male in the family - since my father is a way - I am the only choice when it comes to fixing a random object at home. The doorbell wasn't making any sounds, so I had the batteries changed. The rust came off the tips of the batteries, they must have been there for more than ten years, because I hardly remember anybody changing it at all. In fact, the brand of the battery is no longer for sale out in the public, which makes it quite a wonder to think about the things that have changed in the mean time. The top of the battery box was covered in a thick layer of dust, and they dyed the tips of my fingers black by the slightest touch. I breathed a sigh of disgust, and squeezed another battery into the socket. Mother was stationed at the front door with her thumb on the switch. I signaled to her, and she applied the pressure ever so slightly. The doorbell sounded - everybody was happy. I for one, returned to my work.

Sometimes everything is wrong. Now it's time to sing along.
When your day is night alone, (Hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go, (Hold on)
When you think you've had too much of this life, well hang on.


It seems like everything in the house was falling apart, with the doorbell coming down first, following swiftly by the lights at the balcony. Seems like I wasn't the only belonging of the house breaking down yesterday, and climbing the shaky steps of the ladder as the edge of the balcony fell nineteen floors to the concrete ground below gave me a strange feeling. Not the sense of fear, the kind that comes when you are afraid of heights. It was an urge to do something stupid, or how you brain asks itself what would happen if you fall down from the ladder and over the edge. I wondered how I would look like in a pulp, with my limbs broken and some of the never be found. Somehow, I imagined to look somewhat similar to how I was yesterday, strolling about the house like a living dead most of the time. Those waking hours weren't easy to bear, so I slept most of the day away just to keep my mind off things. But of course, I eventually woke up from my slumber, and everything was back to square one again. It's funny how a single blog entry from someone you cared for can affect you so greatly. I guess my will is just not as strong as it used to be.

You can always ask me what I think about her and her new love, and what I am going to tell you is that they can go to hell for all I care. But any form of information is going to send that ignorance to come crashing down. It seems like I cannot care less as far as my ignorance goes, and I cannot care more if somebody were to tell me things about him, or her. A friend of mine wandered into that part of my vulnerability that night, and accidentally told me things that I didn't want to know, things that I'd rather live without. But of course, what is said is said, and it's not like it was possible for her to take back everything by pretending nothing happened. It pained me to know certain things in a new light, but it's not like I could do anything about it either. So I took it all in, and in the gloomy setting of my bedroom, I tried to breakdown. But the hurt only lasted as far as it was willing to go under my skin. All was all calm and tranquility on the surface, but underneath I was fighting a battle with my own demons.

Everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends.
Everybody hurts. Don't throw your hand. Oh, no. Don't throw your hand.
If you feel like you're alone, no, no, no, you are not alone


I wish it could have been easier to bear, but the emotions that went through me that night was hard to bear. I mean, I started thinking about how pretentious I am, telling others to get over their old loves, to let go of their past. Then there I was, sitting with my head against the wall, beating myself up over a stupid entry she wrote on our supposed one year anniversary. It has been quite some time after it was typed, and I daresay that even she forgot much about it, drowning in a sea of her own Heaven, always remembering to forget. How do you trust somebody to give you advices on relationships, on life, or on anything, if he himself have the very same issues? I just don't feel that I am qualified to give anymore of my words to the ones that I hold dear, because I don't seem to believe in myself any longer. I try my very best to believe them sometimes, I really do. But when it comes right down to it, letting go is so so hard. To let go of a beautiful relationship is hard, to let go of a beautiful relationship that ended in ruins just seems so much harder.

I do not understand where the disappointment is rooted, because it has been so long and we have supposedly grew out of each other. We are no longer 'us', but rather two separate entities living in this world, trying to be oblivious to each others' existence. You are living your life happily I'm sure, with that somebody new and fitting in perfectly into your life in the new school. And I am having a blast with the new friends I made, going on overseas trips with my friends every holiday, I don't suppose either of us can ask for more in our lives right now. So what is with the disappointment? Why do you have to revisit those painful memories in this way, and accuse me of making you feel disappointed? What have I done to make you feel so? Like I said, we are both in a very comfortable position right now, is it really necessary to stir up old wounds and scars like that? I've already apologized that night, so what more do you want? What more do you want?

If you're on your own in this life, the days and nights are long,
When you think you've had too much of this life to hang on.


I am so tired of being tormented like that in the middle of the night to have nothing and no one to hold on to. It wasn't half as difficult in the past, because I had you to lean on to, you to back up on. But of course, none of you exist in my life right now, so let's just do me a favor and stop making my life even more miserable. I tried my very best to be the best for you, to change myself to suit who you are, I tried to be your anything and everything? Why isn't everything enough, why isn't love enough? What more do you ask in this stage of our crumbled relationship? Do you seriously feel that you have a right to be disappointed in me, when I did what you would have done? I don't think you have any more right than me, to fly into a rage and to be irrational, since those were the rights you proclaimed to have when we were still together, when you threw one of those childish tantrums, the ones I took in without saying a word.

It disappoints me that you are feeling disappointed, because I believed that despite those emotional outflows, you are a person with more sense than anybody I have ever known. I guess even that can be blinded and blurred in the face of love, and I guess I have been mistaken all along. It is impossible for you to not be you for a moment, and complicate every damn thing there is to complicate. Even in a field of ashes, you don't seem to be able to put everything into a grave and be done with it. You have to dig up the rotten flesh and the broken bones, and then comment on just how pathetic the body looks - how pathetic I look. It's sad, and it pains me to know that you feel this way about me - because until this moment, I never felt that about you before. Even if my friends are telling me how they stare at you with disgust in school, even if my other friends are trying to convince how evil you are as a person, I still stayed strong, and like I fool I tried to believe only myself. I guess, it is time to falter, and my will is not as strong as it used to be. You are the worst thing that has ever happened to me.

Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes.
And everybody hurts sometimes. So, hold on, hold on.
Hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on.
Everybody hurts. You are not alone.

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