Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Entries from the journal of a foolish sabaist: The days of deterioration.

10.12.2011 And when you say I’m beautiful, I would always feel my lungs inflate inside my chest, and a childish smile I try to conceal with a silent sigh would always find its way out to become one with the wind and go places. You make a part of me go places. And I want to go places with you.

10.12.2011 The caustic beeping tone of the phone is still ringing inside my head. And I wonder what your life might be if you didn’t meet me. You’ll wake up in the morning. Probably go back to sleep for another minute or two. Dress for work. Go down four flights of stairs, you’re gonna be late. Take a cab, take the bus, worry over the heavy traffic. Probably you’ll meet some friends, or meet some girls. Ponder about your own issues. Then you’ll stop thinking about it, it stresses you too much. Have your usual cigarette break. Smoke two sticks or maybe a pack. Let your day go on flawlessly. Go home, watch your sitcoms. Sleep. You will not need me or think of me. After all, this is if we didn’t meet. But now I’m wondering how my life will be. I am probably smoking outside instead of writing this. But all I want you to do is answer my call.

10.15.2011 Somewhere in my body, somewhere in my bones there’s this jealousy trying to get hold of me, trying to take over my rationality. And I never fancied it. I let my mind wander to other places, think about other things. Germany, Sunday mornings, my unruly bed, the coming storm, songs, John Lennon, umbrellas, you, your morning voice, your slender fingers, your back turned to me – fading (away). And I was there, left alone – a cloud trying to contain the rain, but the water was too heavy I had to let it pour. One second I froze, and then I burst to pieces – even you, would find hard to put back together.

10.16.2011 And I was left doing nothing. Hands numbed by beer bottles I’ve emptied. Holding on to the faintest hope that in the moments you were drives away, you were thinking of me too. Or at least you see my face when your eyes occasionally close.

10.29.2011 The coldness is seeping into my bones and I could feel my teeth grit. My feet are numb both from the cold and the reverberating sound of the bus floor. I tried to curl my toes. I can’t feel them. But I can remember the sensation of our toes touching, legs intertwined (sometimes I wrap my legs around you as you wrap your arms around me), so as to sleep.

The window is too foggy to let the sun come in and I’m feeling the urge to bathe in the warmth of the sunrise, in the warmth of you. I can see your face every time I close my eyes, every time I open it, and every time I gaze on the road. It leaves a heavy feeling of happiness and longing somewhere inside my rib cage, just below my throat. No, not in my heart, but somewhere near. And I’m afraid I’m loving you more. Your name burns in my mouth every time I try to say it (even just inside my head). And I’m confused if I’m calming down or going insane. But I miss you, badly. That, I’m certain.

11.4.2011 Maybe I’m just filling my head with delusions of you, with delusions that I can be happy too.

11.7.2011 I always liked crying on the floor. It’s cold against my cheeks. Sometimes I regret letting people in and entrusting my self to them. It just hurts too much. And the problem is, I always swallow all the pain and keep this little faith in them that they wouldn’t hurt me again, which I know is a lie. Because that’s impossible. People hurt you and they will continue to hurt you. Everything just comes down to how you can handle the hurt and the pain they’re giving.

I hurt myself too.

11.7.2011 I wanted to tell you everything. My dreams, my secrets, thoughts that I have never spoken of, things that make me happy, that I fear, that I love. If I could I would lay cut open in front of you. I want you to see what’s inside me, the part of me that even I cannot see. I want to tell you everything.

But when I try to speak, you wouldn’t listen. Then all the words I struggled to put together would just dissolve in my mouth and burn in my chest and leave me gasping for air.

11.7.2011 I’m chain smoking again over coffee and the sky is getting darker. It’s 5:32 and I feel like I’m being absorbed by the noise of the cars down the street. I feel like I don’t exist and no one can’t see me. I’ve always wanted to be unnoticed but somehow, right now, at this moment I wish somebody would talk to me or look at me. Maybe borrow my lighter or ask me if I could share my table.

I’ve been reading slower than usual. Just down to the 43rd page of my new book. And I’ve been reading it for like an hour now. I have never felt divided like this. I wish I was in a different place. Yet I want to stay where I am. I want to run away from the people I know but I want them to appear in front of me and maybe say hi or something.

It’s not the coffee or the cigarettes that makes it hard to breathe. It’s this feeling of sadness or regret or longing or I don’t know what this is. I just want somebody to come to me. Or maybe I could just jump off of this coffee shop balcony.

11.13.2011 I am a circus of love and hate for you. And the hate I feel, I made up to stop feeling too much love for you. I must hate you.

11.13.2011 I was never good enough. And I was a fool to think that I could be.

11.17.2011 I’m tired. The tiredness that even a year’s sleep or your body’s warmth or your flowery words or your promise of love can’t cure.

11.17.2011 We fell in love in those walls, in those sheets, in the fifth floor fire exit, in the city lights, in our blood shut eyes, in long nights of talking and keeping quiet, in midnights and mornings of cigarettes, in this damned place of noise and hate, we (think we) fell in love.

11.20.2011 I have been trying to sleep forever. Since yesterday and the day before. All I did was sleep. I want to sleep like that girl in Murakami’s After Dark. I just wanna sleep and not feel.

11.20.2011 I wish I could say without my knees trembling that I love you a little less than before. But I’m afraid that despite all the hate we are in, I’m loving you even more.

11.27.2011 Closer to death than ever.

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