Mio's profile☜♡☞ ๑۩۞۩๑ • ღ A stage of...PhotosBlogListsMore  |  Tools Help |
|
|
May 03 Sorry dear, I had no choice.It just happened. Something that I've been fearing for the past 27 years.
What went wrong? And who was at fault? Guess it's no one to blame except the fact that I let it happened.
If I could turn back time, what was it that I've changed?
I would have made it very strict with my principles and not give in.
I wouldn't want to blame anyone. But I would try to avoid this from happening.
IF I had been more strict with my principles and with the plans I had in mind.
Maybe the heart's desire is achieved at this very moment.
One determination for two very extreme situations.
I just had to do it.
First - I know it's a lifetime regret.
Second - I know it's the key to my door.
I'm sorry for being so selfish. But it wasn't all for my selfishness.
Sorry dear. January 20 Me and myselfI feel like screaming. Am i dreaming?
I'd want to shout. I'd like to take a rest from talking about all the nonsense and pout.
I'd want to talk how i felt. Perhaps i should have listened to myself.
Hush, there is this voice talking. Who is it? Other than myself.
Hush, i knew what you'd say and it didn't make my day.
They say they care. But it's just not there.
They say they understood. Or they wished they could?
It was never the same from the day i took the blame.
I'm different from the others but it doesn't make me unique.
I'm different from the others but i hate to be labeled as weird.
I'm different from the others but it don't mean i'm enjoying it.
I'm different from the others but it don't mean life is unfair.
I'm different from the others but i ain't gifted.
I'm different from the others but i didn't suffer less.
I'm different from the others but i'm not all lucky.
I'm different from the others but it's still half empty.
I'm different from the others but i can't differentiate a fact and a truth.
I'm different .. just different. If you could speak my mind, i give you the permission to do so.
Speak like i'd never will.
Speak like there's no tomorrow.
Speak like there's always a brighter sun.
Open my mind. Open my heart. I seek the voice deep within me. I'd need to hear the truth from me. October 11 Why?I wanted to make believe that it was a rumour.
Even if it meant a cruel joke I would wish it has never happened.
What is there in life that you can't figure out?
What is more important than life itselt?
I really wished I could hear it from you.
There you are looking serene despite the grieving echoes.
Here I am filled with grief and tears lining down my cheeks.
There were the familiar faces across the room which you did not bother.
Even if you hadn't cared for others, wouldn't there be at least one person worth remaining your life?
What was on your mind?
Why were you so determined to leave life itself?
Why?
I felt sorry for your mother, she endure months of obstablces welcoming you into this world.
And you left it unfinished.
Why?
December 11 The difference with noon and nightDay thoughts: I've never really developed any habits of taking noon naps. But this particular afternoon, i was feeling the weight right on my tiny pea brain and i had to force myself to sleep. While lying on the bed nicely covered with duvet with the sun glaring on at me and that moment reminded me of the noon nap i took in Hattyai. I remember clearly i was having a bad flu at that time, but those were the days that makes keeps me missing. The enviroment, the people and the noise; these are the qualities moments that brings me altogether.
Night thought: It's cold and clear with trickles of tears. Another week has passed, another day has gone and another day to come. Getting through the day with nick of time. Living life to the fullest and making every moment counts. Can't wait till i spend my holiday in Taiwan. I'd be able to blog my journey! Yipee! I love travelling; it makes my heart fonder and i'd start missing all the diamonds of my heart.
 December 04 The clock strikesMy world went loose and it came tumbling down. Leaving me with a mountain of thoughts. It felt as if droplets of lemon were mixed like cocktail flowing with my blood pumping in my heart. It felt sour. I dare not question myself, inferior against my respond and reasons. I dare not remind myself. I kept myself busy. But when I mellow down a little, my thoughts flew as if birds were set free from a cage. I questioned my doing, for whether it was right or wrong. I questioned if it was the best ending of all. Was it an ending to the torture? Or did the torture just started? I don’t know.
I hardly recognize the reflection in the mirror. No matter how much make up I apply, there was no way I could cheat the reflection. I hadn’t been sleeping well. I spend my first night with the sky. I spend yesterday night drinking. Last night I patron the bar, I thought a little sober would kill my thinking. Every gulp I took, it taste like tears. Drinking was not the easy way out; it did not lift the heaviness in me. This is one advise for people with lemon hearts. Never drink or smoke when you’re unhappy. It doesn’t make any difference. The drinking made me hungry. I told myself I need to shed off some weight, and I should refrain from having supper. Guess it was not my day. I flunked the resolution. While I was drinking last night, the same thought kept occurring. Have I caused any unwanted worries? Am I not old enough to take care of myself? I don’t know. Guess I hadn’t been doing the right things.
Lately, I realized I’ve been really timid. I hate myself for instilling fickle minded attitude in me. It seems I’m never sure. Last night, I spend my whole day thinking and weighing consequences. Simple actions led me to big worries. I’m not even focused with what I need to do. I had a list of important things that would make me a different person. I’m just too messed up now that I can’t figure how to execute my plans. I hate myself for not able to speak up my heart. It’s not so important what I think; it’s only important how I portray words from my little heart. I blame myself for being centered. I’ve been selfish of how I felt. I was told only people who knew how to love themselves would know how to love others. I loved myself more than anyone else. Yet, I knew nothing about love. Love is something so far beyond my ability. Me speaking of love would be a humiliation towards those who knew how to love. I must learn to set myself free from this hell I’m drawing myself in. I must learn how to pick myself together. Only time will tell.
To prevent from my expectations and disappointment, hope shall be erased from my dictionary. I wonder if it will rain later when the clock strikes 12. I wonder if rain would take away the sunny moments tomorrow. I recalled it rained last year during my birthday. I pray that it will not rain tomorrow. For it will be someone’s birthday. “Happy birthday” I heard myself singing.
Last night, I had a dream. Nothing changed in the dream and I was grateful. But reality hits me when I opened my eyes. My tears dampened my pillow again. Reality sucks. December 03 Breeze made of sandThings are going to take a turn in here. I’ve decided to stop allowing comments in my future entries because I know for now, no comment could lift me up nor wash my away the tears of sand from the corner of my eyes. I’m struggling here, feels like quick sand up till my throat. I can hardly breath. How can I stop these tears from rolling? I want to shout out loud. I wished I were standing on top of the hill. I’d want to shout till I can’t talk. Let the words of my heart die, as it should. Does anyone sell huge bottle enough for a man? I’d want to bottle my thoughts and send them far away. It’s painful, but the pain is not strong enough to kill me. I’m better off alone now.
 Diary of castles in the wind
Day 1: My heart feels like footstep against the delicate sand. Molding soft prints every step I take but the waves smoothens it away like an eraser. For every step I took, I could only reminiscence. No matter how hard I stomp against the sand, my footprint will not stay forever. I built a sandcastle far away from the shore; I protected it against the waves. I built a roof above my castle, to keep it from the rain. But I forgot all about the wind, the soft breeze slowly took it away: insignificant like dust yet in time to come my castle is gone. Which direction did the wind blew? My castle is gone. Did I lock myself in? The castle was built outside me, just like a snowball. I thought I was outside appreciating the delicate snowball, yet it was all imagination. Is breaking the glass the only way out? Is there no other way I could have escaped? The snowball slipped off the shelf. Like how the wind blew my empire away, my heart broke into million pieces. It’s bits and pieces now. Spilled water on the floor waiting to evaporate, unlike the sea never gets dry.
It doesn’t feel the same anymore. Words can’t express what I’m feeling inside. I bid my time hoping to mend the broken pieces. My tears dry and run anew every time it reminds me. Sad songs to keep me company through the long lonely evenings. My salty tears to keep me warm against my pillow. Day gets harder to go by. Things are not the same anymore. The world keeps turning no matter what. Day changes to night and the cycle never stops for any man.
Last night I stared at the sky till morning searching for my castle.
 September 25 The little girlLittle girl (crying): Dear god, what have he done? Why did you take him away from me?
No answer. Silence.
Little girl (still crying): Why aren't you talking to me? Why did you take him away from me? I need him more than you do!
Silence.
Little girl: Daddy, why did you leave me behind? What have you done? Don't you love me anymore? Daddy . . please don't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone. I'm sorry for not being a good girl. Daddy . . ?
Silence.
Little girl: Daddy, was it painful? Were you scared? I'm sorry i wasn't there for you. I'm sorry no one was there for you. I'm sorry . .
Silence.
Teenager: Daddy, i'm coming. Please wait for me. I'd be right there beside you.
Silence.
Lady: Daddy, i miss you. I missed you still. And i miss you a lot. I'm lost and i'm tired and i don't know what to do. I wished someone was there to erase my pain. Make me understand that nothing would lead you back to me. So much i'd wanna believe, that everything happened for a reason. But i'd still break without you.
Daddy, i'm forever a baby girl.
 January 16 Story of someone familiarSometimes, when sorrow is deep and the healing balm of time moves too slowly, a grieving heart may look for consolation in something more tangible. When i lost my dad, my destiny careened dramatically from snuggly to loose ended. Overnight, my childhod vanished. Dad's death transformed my world into a no-man's land, a place marked by shock and disbelief, a barren landscape stripped bare of life - incomprehensible. I felt as if i, too, had died. For the first three months, my family and i had to spend the days living with one of my uncle & his family. I tried hiding from the fact. I did not allow myself to feel the pain. I imagined as if he's on a vacation. But another part of me knew i was ambivalent about returning home because i felt as if his spirit lived there. Going home meant facing the myriad fragments of memories he'd left behind.
Grieving souls do not heal easily. Intellectually i understood it. In retrospect, i wasn't ready to accept the wisdom behind the words. Going home turned out to be a rapid descent into hell. The familarity of my surroundings only sharpened my awareness of his absence. Incomplete, i'd lost a vital part of my identity. At the age of only 9, there was only less than a handful of ppl i could talk to. Due to that, i stayed in bed all the time after classes. Alterrnating between sleeping and crying, my eyes vanished into pockets of swollen flesh. My strength and inner resources shriveled. Relationship between me and mom went from nice to ugly. I stopped talking to her. I didn't know what was on her mind. I doubt she knows what's on my mine either. Days and nights merged into one another, time became irrelevant. One fine arguement and i decided to take my life. For i don't recall how long it has been, wearing nothing but a scanty hospital gown, i lay motionless on the bed. I felt like a spectator watching myself fade away.
Then, suddenly, i realized i wasn't meant to die this way. It wasn't my time to die. After that day, when i stepped out of the hospital into the world, i finally felt ready to find a way to live with the bundle of pain i carried inside. My life has irrrevocably changed. My experiences are what mould me to be who i am today. It may be hard, but it will heal. November 08 In my eyes . .Now that i'm no longer young, I have friends whose mothers have passed away. I have heard sons and daugthers say they never fully appreciated their mothers until it was too late to tell them. I am blessed with a dear mother who is still alive. I appreciate her more each day. My mother does not change, but i do. As i grow older and wiser, i realise what an extraordinary person she is. How sad that i'm unable to speak these words in her presence, but they flow easily from my keyboard.
How does a daughter begin to thank her mother for life itself? For the love, patience and just plain hard work that go into raising a child? For running a toddler, for understanding a moody teenager, for tolerating a college student who knows everything? For waiting for the day when a daughter realises how wise her mother really is?
How does a grown woman thank a mother for continuing to be a mother? For being ready with advice (when asked) or remaining silent when it is most appreciated? For not saying "I told you so" when she could have uttered those words dozens of times? For being essentially herself - loving. thoughtful, patient and forgiving?
I don't know how. I ask of nothing except for dear god to bless her as richly as she deserves and to help me live up to the example she has set. I pray that i will look as good in the eyes of my children as my mother looks in mine. October 30 Funeral and a cup of teaMy favorite table unoccupied. Gladly, i took my seat and ordered my usual morning tea. Guess i woke up way too early this morning. Due to that, i'm not able to focus as per normal. So i did a quick cat nap while waiting for my tea. Strange, i thought i heard something familiar. Not my name being called. It's music from some instruments. Maybe not, i swear i heard chanting as well. A mixture of chants and music. With my eyes still shut, i kept asking myself where have i heard this before? Exactly after a minute of questioning, i finally came up with the answer. It's part of a funeral process. Though i''m not sure why there's the need for family members of the deceased to walk with bare foot following the vehicle . . . Did i walk bare footed? It was that split second that i allowed my memories to haunt me. Everything felt as if it just happened yesterday. Yes, i remembered every single details. The long hours of crying and kneeling. It's compulsory to kneel. The dream i had was the last i see of him. Every time i think of him, he's still as young as ever. Funny, i can't seem to imagine how he looks with grey hairs, wrinkles, smile lines and . . lot's more. After so many years, these memories can still dampened my heart. But before i knew it, my cup of tea brought me back from history to reality.
October 10 The last promise givenPromises made. Broken promises. Empty promises. When was the last time you made a promise? When was the last time you fulfilled your promise? You see, i've never been a straight A's student when it comes to Mathematics. Reason to it? Perhaps i'm slightly slower when it comes to calculation. Not long, i started hating it. I hated every Mathematics teacher i had. I hated every Maths sessions. I hate Maths exam. My mind would go blank and i'd start panicking whenever i couldn't answer one question. Result to it, i'd flunk everything. Once, i even fainted before the exam started. Ritually i'd end up having a red mark in my report card. And the best is yet to come. Having one red mark doesn't seem significant to many. But as for me, having one red means pain. I'd go through intensive canning, spanking, thrown out of the house, taken back in, scolding, crying, lots of crying, and promises. I'd always end up promising him i'd pass the next time. One night was all it took to change my life. The last promise i made, the one and only that i kept, the one that kept my pride and dignity, the only promise that compensated my loss. Am i good in Maths now? I still suck at it. But i don't hate it anymore. And i kept my promise, i did better the very next time with flying colours. |
|
|
