There are a million things in my head right now and I don't know where to begin.

But I know where it ended.

I know that I didn't call on your birthday to wish you. I know I haven't called since I broke up with you.

It's not that I was scared.

It's just that... maybe the act of wishing you a happy birthday would remind me of our loss.

Maybe I didn't want to repeat the actions of an individual who still had feelings for you.

Maybe I just didn't want to be someone who cared about you at all.

In my relationships, there are a whole lot of maybes.

But there's one thing I know for certain.

It's that you were special.

Really, you were.

And maybe I was afraid to truly love you, because unlike other girls, you'd be able to break my heart.

And maybe I couldn't allow that.

So I broke yours.

In retrospect, Lee, congratulations. Yet another failed relationship. Let's hang it on the wall of fame shall we?

Yeah, I know. It was wonderful at first. Indescribable, even. The honeymoon stage always is.

But then too many things got in the way, too many things left unsaid.

Our hearts communicated in Morse code.

Our love fell apart like an UNO stack. And no one was there to pick up the pieces.

Game over.

Why is loving someone so bloody hard?

Why does it take so much to go right for love to work between two people?

I know friends from ACJC, TJC,VJC, even NJ, who break up and get back together.

Can't they see that the things that caused their love to fail once, will inevitably appear the second time round'?

Hearts shouldn't be given the benefit of the doubt.

But why do they do it?

Because it's so hard to let go.
Because of nostalgia.
Because of convenience.

Because you never really get over someone

...until the next relationship comes along.

It's stupid. It's effed' up. Sometimes I just don't get love. And maybe I don't want to understand it.

But no longer.

I am no longer going to fight for a relationship to work.

It's not worth the effort.

My heart needs stitches.

.wen loong

Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
'Cause though she's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yet, I'm better near to you.

--

People tell me to be strong after what happened. What is strength, but how well you hide the pain? I feel it, especially at night when there's no one around, nothing to distract myself with. I know you're feeling it too. I guess there's no such thing as a clean break. Pain is inevitable. They say time ultimately heals all wounds, but what about wounds beneath the surface? What if there are wounds made so deep down inside that they are beyond regeneration, beyond redemption?

I'm no immortal. Everyday I'm extremely aware of my own mortality, my shared humanity. I've made countless mistakes, some which even now I am terribly ashamed of. Do I regret making them? No. They say you never really escape your past. But I don't want to escape. I may be ashamed of things that I've done, but I'm proud that I've grown stronger, I've learned, I've had the courage to move on. They aren't mistakes anymore, they're milestones.

Everything I have done does not determine everything I have yet to do.

Do you believe in Fate?

I do. And I still believe that I have control over my own fate. That mystical all-powerful force, of Destiny, of divine Providence, that has an unseen hand in shaping the fabric of our reality and the realms of our dreams, I believe in that.

But I also believe that my destiny is in my hands. Your life is not a path you follow, it's a path you blaze. No one can "find themselves", they must create themselves.

Why am I so conscious of my own ultimate destiny only now? Well you might say that I've reached what is pretty much the advent of the beginning of my life. I've reached the crossroads, the point in your life where you have to make life-altering decisions and stick with it. There's A-levels, army, university, work. My foray into adulthood, how strange and surreal that sounds.

Maybe in some sense I shall always remain young at heart.

Maybe when I turn 18, there will be an "awakening" of sorts, where all that was cloudy is now clear.

Maybe the darkness will turn into light.

Maybe sorrow will turn into joy.

Maybe mediocrity will turn into greatness.

Maybe hate will turn into love.

Maybe years from now, we'll look back and learn to forget the things we have not forgiven ourselves for.
Knowing the only sure thing amidst the haze of life
Is that things don't work out the way they should

And Fortune doesn't always keep smiling
but you've got to be strong and beautiful and brave all the same
To act on wild impulses
And live a life without limits.


.wenloong

You're here now and I'm not, I'm here now and you're not, we're both knots in Notting Hill sitting on purple pastures looking at baby moons playing with stardust for dinner and nothing is real, nothing is weak, we are lost we are lost but it has just begun to dawn upon me that conventions are for the idiotic and I eat chocolate-coated facades for supper in the dead of night when I think of you and the world just passes through my mind singing chant-like the sweet notions of abyss and neglect and hollow guilt; your breath haunts me like the Grim Reaper in heat but Death is sitting in the living room watching Whose Line Is It Anyway and asking me for skimmed milk and two more sugar cubes and I reply that's impossible because dying is bitter and we all have to live with it why not you and then the Carlsberg advertisement comes on and the telly grows legs and we tell it to get two beers Guinness of course because the advert is so damn annoying out so we can party with the sofa all night long but the telly starts a revolution and the riot is too much for us to handle we are overthrown into the sea which spits out flickers of jelly fire against the dying light of the fireflies; we scream we scream we are doomed we are not living living day to day where is Life Death is my only acquaintance but the linoleum sticks to my feet and I cause earthquakes dislocating families and children, I am the monster I am Godzilla I am the alien I am the giant robot ravaging through New York and Tokyo I am King Kong I am the Incredible Hulk and she is my savior my sonny my salvation my sex symbol my sanity in a world losing touch with its spirituality and when I look she breathes and when she looks I do not, my madness heals temporarily and I gain consciousness for brief illuminated points of light in time in seconds in eons I live through her I live with her I live for her and she is mine beyond all pride and glory and shame and joy not as an object of affection but as a onyx through which all my travesties are redeemed from burning burning like heathens like powder and pestle and mortar; I glimpse not once but thrice past future present back to birth and suddenly reincarnation seems plausible not the body but the heart we are near but far apart; I feel it in my veins in my bones in my skin it courses through my body like H1N1 virally vivacious she is but somehow it is beyond that and even words cannot define cannot explain cannot LIMIT her and I fear quantifying it will only make it less unreal than it already is and it all of it is too good to be true something is bound to go wrong if things continue going this good it always happens like that in the movies this is the part when the ominous music comes on and the protagonist has a smattering of bad fortune; they say fortune smiles upon the brave but I feel neither lionheart brave nor cowardly I just feel dislocation why why dislocation? Ouch pop my elbow I don't know the ambiguity of the diagnosis of tendonitis? What have i done the horror the horror do I really want to turn out like Kurtz or Miss Havisham how can this be but when she smiles at me everything is alright and I am by her side and we atomize like perfume droplets across the universe dissolving into matter but the matter-o-fact is that I am no Jason Mraz and no wordplay is not a kind of videogame and oh what the heck why am I talking about her in terms of molecules maybe it's because what we have is more than biochemistry more than subtle interactions between particles so infinitesimal that we can barely ponder on it for fear of risking our lives breaking the ice of our own inhibitions; but what are my inhibitions for that matter I have none no I am fearless but if so then i must fear something everyone fears something if not then they are dead and doomed dead or alive no not the computer but the concept; I am living in a world of concept and consumption gradually being sucked in but living my own way is the only way I know how and we are all same we are all unique corporate glowing icons of an age of decadence and marble Gobstopper candy and pornographic magazines and fashionista legs which go on for days on end like the famines in Africa which no one on the street seem to care of instead it is the stars not in the sky but on the land like Di Caprio who fight for an inconvenient truth one man cannot make a difference is that fatalistic or realistic, one man can't change the world but an idea can; no way I am giving up on the beauty of you the beauty of life and death in the pattern that must persist and the shitless martyrdom the self-sacrificial truth that all of us innately now that mortality is life and immortality counts for shit unless you're done with trying to stamp out your cigarette ember butts on the corner of 1st and Amistad let's raise our hands and undo our welding goggles looking out for the skyscrapers singing with the eclipses Hello and Goodbye because hey at the end of the day we're only here once and never again...

everything is more beautiful because we are doomed.


.wen loong