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the brittle eve broke
into a thousand stars
upon my longing
they had come to me

gentle night fought through
light and whirling sand


she caught my words
blown on roaming winds

now I wait hoping on return
they may carry her too

Soft reactions to hard situations...

This... like everything else i seem to begin writing, is incomplete... but then again... thats what life feels like right now... so it works... ever changing... ever challenging... but hopefully, not forever incomplete!

Sometimes the world talks to me
tells me not to give up, give in.
Sometimes the world talks to me
and her voice alone i want to hear.

Everything i have learnt is her teaching.
The person i am, an illustration of her genius.
Now I no longer fear not being understood,
For those who loved me taught me to love myself.

Life has been kind to me, i do not complain
But i know hardships come in many forms
The hardest of tests are given to the strong.
Strong who become stronger, as i have.

The walls of my life often close in,
The doors lock themselves, keyless.
The voices inside are unintentionally yours
and i am convinced to do only it's bidding.

The walls of my room may seem a prison,
But these are the walls protecting me.
Inside i am myself, someone very few see.
Inside, i wish to be alone, even with another.

The first morning...

I awoke from my exhausted collapse, that which was nothing like sleep. The lump that was my body took up no more that a quarter of the bed, the side of my face still moist from the damp pillow it still lay on. How I moved across the room, unable to stand, barely to crawl, I am unsure. My head of lead denied me balance of any kind, stooping forward dangerously…

My mind drifted in and out of consciousness on the floor where I had stopped. Time took its own course, one that took no notice of my sorry state. Once again I drifted away only to find myself stumbling out of a cold shower hours later and dressing myself. How I got there I do not know, I remember feeling dirty inside and too clearly the fear of the growing pile of my things on the new wooden floor as they left where they had been…

Walking along the winding pathways, endless and recurrent, one step at a time, one breath at a time, my fathers voice continued to give me the will to move as it had done earlier that day…

As I sit from pain my insides do not relax, this pain I realize does not stem from my muscles. It radiates from somewhere beneath, through my lungs, nose and throat until I am coughing and gasping for breath. The choking is from a tight grip closing around my neck. The hand is of my own making, a creation of my veiled thoughts. I attempt to find the source of this pain and hope that it is not from the inside but from the ground that it makes its way into me…

All this while I have been watching myself struggle. I have left that body but can feel what it feels. But the empty shell is not only missing the part of me that is floating above its head, for I feel empty too. Sick and unable to re-enter that sad self again, I am unable to be the person beneath me. The person I am supposed to be. It seems my mind and heart has for once chosen the same path. One that is so far in the opposite direction from where I am headed that it has separated itself, only to realize I am now in two, yet stuck in the same place…

I float right in front of my body, for the first time daring to look at myself from anywhere but above. I see there is a hole in my centre from where my soul is leaving my body. My soul is leaving me in search of her. Leaving me, for her.

Reflections (an old one)

Even the moon cannot resist
But to reflect what is in your eyes
So that I
Lonely on my windows edge
May watch him
Showing me what i know so well
Miss so terribly

But do you see me there
Unwillingly reflected
In all my weakness
The bulls-eye in perfect view

These eyes betray too much.

Half song

Nobody deserves to be treated this way,
Not even me with my sins circling my head
Sins appointed by this asinine society of ours
And the christian community too
(though i am not a part of them).
So fuck off, now that your done fucking me
It was too good to resist at the time
And it just turned out well for you
But you loved it too, i heard it in your breathing
Now its cold cause you left me outside
You and your warmth walked the opposite direction
Leaving me to stagger into darkness for shelter

This is a half song, incomplete as a reflection of me
as a reflection of your sensitivity and cold heart...

A taste of the lonely life...

It feels like I’m getting a taste of what it would be like living alone… or the first few months of living with new roommates in a new house…. Something to that extent… and I don’t like it!

Ha, I suppose I knew that already. I’m just not the type… but maybe it wouldn’t be this hard. Here there is a hierarchy already in place and as you enter you fall into place under everything already set. No matter who you are or how well you are intentionally treated. The placement in such cases is set and registered by emotion and feelings such as comfort, communication with fellow live-ins and that kind of thing.

So you begin realising how this situation is playing out and that there is not much you can do about it because of the kind of person you are… whatever that might be, and first the shadows start to settle over your head. Iv been there already, I suppose that being done and over with and me moving on is what allows me to write. With the tears of loneliness and being tired of itching when caught feeling out of place (which seems to be always) having ceased to rest for a while… you end up thinking about none other than those who DON’T make you feel that way. Suddenly the importance of these people and the small silly things they do to make you feel at home and part of them… the continuous conscious effort in the early stages, wells your heart and eyes up all over again. This time maybe in a nostalgic good way… the bittersweet realisation… bitter only because you have probably taken them and their ways for granted so terribly that you want to drown yourself now! And if you haven’t, well… good on you!

When the giggling and the loud voices from the opposite room don’t stop… you’ve understood that you’re on your own. The ones who don’t know you too well are probably thinking you’re a loner or some sort of warped thinker who doesn’t know or like to socialise (which might well be to your advantage at this point in time) and the ones who do… well, they obviously don’t know you as well as you thought and don’t really care. The little effort (if you can even call it that) that is put in from their side, in their eyes is like sacrificing their heads to save yours! Trust me, they think way too much of themselves and ‘all the things they give’ for us. One could say what they give us is a road leading to the sea not knowing (I hope! For their own sakes…) that one single drop of rain would be sweeter and more appreciated. And so you learn to pass the time on your own, and smile to make others not bother anymore with you when necessary. The music that you don’t want to listen to playing through the house is only going to drown when you finally put on those headphones and blare whatever it is that makes you happy from your saviour…. Your florescent pink covered ipod!!

Before you know it you are writing at the speed of light… or at least at the speed your computer will allow you and the feet and head are moving with a beat only known to you. The kind of solitude that you are proud of having all to yourself. Who said being alone had to be a bad thing. Instead of feeling excluded from whatever it is the world is doing, know that your little world is more fun then theirs ever will be and know that they are not invited! Smile and let the music move your body… you know it wants to. Let the thoughts race and the fingers on your keyboard come along for the ride…. And guess what… there is no more race you have to win… only feel the wind against your face…