Monday, December 03, 2007
♥ Monday, December 03, 2007
Hurt is always there.
Sometimes, you see it through slits of lights by the windows in the mornings when you are greeted by the morning. Sometimes, you see it on the road, a shapeless figure waving, waving, waving, at each turn you make. Come here, it says. Come here. And you go.
Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn't.
Sometimes, you feel the strain on your eyes when you lie awake at night and then you meet it head on, full force. Disappointment, reject, pain, agony, anger, confusion, frustration, all of that, plus a pinch of salt at the back of your head to add into that wound, and you can't stop. Sometimes you don't.
Sometimes, you show it in your ghastly eyes, your exhausted face, your near-death stare - sometimes you don't.
But hurt is always there. Sometimes you take it more, other times you don't give a damn, but all the time - it is there.
I can see it when I close my eyes. It enters my mind and grabs hold of my heart until I am paralyzed, and then it consumes me whole and I submit to it, because it's stronger than I am. It reigns over this kingdom I supposedly own, but yet I succumb.
I can hear it with each song. It courses through my veins as I mouth each word to the tune, it breaks through my soul and leaves me battered, empty, it takes away all I have. I feel a tinge at my eyes, a tug at my heartstrings, and I fail to keep up.
I struggle to breathe, I am drowning, and everyone knows how to swim but they don't know how to save a life.
I see it under a warm light that glows in the dark night, I see it by the road that I tread on everyday, I see it in the fields of grass that grows by the minute, I see it everywhere. I want to stop it, want it to leave my sight, but I can't, I can't, because it's always there.
When you look into someone's eyes, what do you see? Not her sky blue, not her glimmering hazel, not her glistening black. You might use that to grab hold of her attention, but to get her heart is another. That's not what she wants you to see - look deeper. Look under all that skin, look under the facade, see her hurt, listen to her heart cry. Hear the music of her soul, do you? Feel her hurt, can you?
Personally, I think hurt sucks.
I think I'm homesick and I don't like being homesick because I thought I was home and I'm ashamed that home is somewhere else. I'm ashamed that my heart doesn't lie in here. I need some time. I need a hammock, a pristine beach and a holiday. I need a real holiday.
On a lighter note (not so, actually) I am going for an interview with the principal of the school over here I have no idea whether she's a Singaporean or an American or whatever but I'm not scared. I actually kind of find it weird that she wants an interview because I know an interview usually isn't part of the admission procedure... weird, right?
Whatever though, I have to get to bed so I can get up tomorrow cause she scheduled for the interview to be at 9 (bloody hell, it's my HOLIDAYS *whines*) so i have to get up at 7 or so.
Jess Kris Fran Pril Sim Pris YT Sarah Daniel Lucy I miss you all.
