Friday, August12th
What about: Test
mood: Test
Test
basket reminisced on 12.08.11 @ 02:35 AM GMT [link] [archives]
Friday, January7th
What about:
I feel a growing resentment in you. Something thats been hiding for sometime but leaking out slowly from cracks. I try to cover these cracks with morning mcdonalds, late mufiz dinners, toast box sandwiches, and goofy smiles. But the truth is, i might not be able to cover these cracks anymore.
Recently, things unravel much easier. You know how when you undo a ball of tightly wound string? Only to be unable to wind it up as tight as before? Its something like that. The pace at which things unravel.
One careless action by me will lead to a bevy of feelings pouring out from you like youve stored it for so many years. Live you've resented this place i've brought us to for years.
And the worse thing is, i know why you feel that way. I know why but i cannot change it.
I cannot change that my parents are not okay with you. They probably will never get over the idea that you are in my life. So i ignore this, and i never try to bring you into the picture. Since young, ive been wary of what i say to my folks. I'm just like that. And somehow, they seem to prefer it like that. They seem to not want to know about my life. And somehow, we've kept it that way. This is me, and im sorry if it pains you. Im sorry if you think youre a nobody. If you think youre not important to me because i've never shown you to my parents. I'm sorry really. I wish i could be so open with them but i cant. I never have. And i dont think i ever will. Youre still a somebody to me. If you want to be.
And im sorry if i totally disregard you when i meet my friends. I have no excuses. Im sorry if you think i dont tell my friends i have a gf. I do. I do tell them im with you. I do tell them im going out with you. And i do tell them ive spent the best 8 years of my life with you. But the truth is, i dont really talk about you. Why should they listen anyway? They dont care about you as much as i do. I talk to you, about you. When im with you i talk about you. Cause thats what people who are in love do.
This is me. This is who i am. Im not the most open person when it comes to my personal life. I rather not talk about it. I rather people not know what im doing. What im up to and who my loved ones are. I think im paranoid, but if it keeps our world, the one we built together, safe, then ill continue doing it.
Im sorry if i dont big you up. Or announce to everyone that youre my special someone. I think if i know it myself its enough. Cause at the end of the day, i come home and think of you, before i sleep i think of you, when i wake up i think of you. And im sure noone else does this for you. I know you would like to feel special sometimes, to feel like you matter by having me do acts of ultimate devotion or show of love. I dont blame you. Any girl would want their boyfriend to put in a little more effort, to showcase to the world how much he loves her, how much he adores her. Its only natural. And im sorry i havent done that.
There was once a time when i felt like everyone should know that im in love. I would spend hours composing poems and mass sending it to people. I would build a website to express things i felt about you to random people online. I would spend my life savings on you. I guess its not wrong to have a little passion in our lives.
But i think sometimes you have to show me a little passion too.
Then maybe we can be passionate together. Then it wont be so difficult for me.
Anyway, there is indeed a huge cloud looming over us. One that has been growing for some time. I cannot stop you from feeling the way you do. All i can do is to explain myself so that you know. It is not in my intention at all to make you feel low. I try my hardest each day to avoid days like this. They make me sad. They make my heart heavy. And im sure it does the same to you.
If you feel like a nobody, then i am one too. Cause without you, i am a nobody too.
basket reminisced on 07.01.11 @ 05:22 AM GMT [link] [archives]
Thursday, January6th
What about: im useless :(
its hard to explain and i feel horrible each time i think about it, so i'll just put it in words.
Love of my life come fly with me,
you're not just someone, not just a nobody.
Love of my life come stand next to me.
and let me show you what you mean to me.
Let me kiss you from hand to cheek
and show you the stars where our two hearts meet
place my lips upon your own
and show you love that you have shown.
Love of my life i am sorry.
If i push you aside and forget you're with me.
Love of my life these things i wish i would not do
when youre with me and im with you.
So let me take you far away
Where its just you and me.
Love of my life thats how i want it to be.
basket reminisced on 06.01.11 @ 10:37 PM GMT [link] [archives]
Sunday, December26th
What about: Before i forget.
Before i forget what it feels like to love, to lose, to hope and to cry, i should write it down somewhere. Before i surrender to the dullness of adulthood, the bitterness of life, the realities of living, i should keep my memories safe.
For once i leave my "childhood" behind, i cannot return.
Do you know how many blogs at this moment contain the catch phrase "it's been so long since i've blogged" and then proceed to rot into obscurity after that single last post declaring that they have not blogged for a very long time?
We all grow up and we leave our blogs behind. Our angst, our fears, my fears, my hopes, my dreams, all able to fit in one tiny thumbdrive. How can this be? Once i felt i was larger than life, larger than any thumbdrive, and today i feel so small. So small you could squish me and noone would care. Once i thought whatever i said mattered, today i can't even stand myself. Who cares?
I digress.
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Yesterday someone sang to me. Was it for me i'm not too sure but it was definitely to me. That feeling of the whole world watching you not because you're talented or doing something worth looking at but because you're beside someone who is actually talented and worth looking at is something i wouldn't like to go through again. But as much as who really gives a fuck about me, i truly enjoyed that slice of life alien to sinking singapore.
I reasoned the reason i felt that way is because i've never been through something like that and i could see from the other diners reactions that they were secretly praying this kid would somehow break his guitar and spare them the delightful embarrassment that would ensue. We're singaporeans. We suck. What the fuck is a guitar doing in the restaurant?
Luqman on the other hand does not suck and i truly wish him all the best. As he sauntered up and down the narrow aisles looking for a table to sing to, for a brief moment, if you stopped chewing, you could see how sad we've become. Sixty robotic jaws chewing and chewing, dull murmurs across the dining area, all same, all similar, all the product of 'independence', and one soul out to sing and no one really cared.
As i extended my hand to pass his what i suspect only tip of the night, he looked into my eyes took my hand into both of his and said with the biggest and sincerest smile, thank you.
No, thank you Luqman. Amid the dullness, the greyness, the bleakness of Singapore life, you are a shining light. Thank you.
basket reminisced on 26.12.10 @ 03:40 AM GMT [link] [archives]
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