26 December 2008

** Hundred and One **

chirstmas is gone. i have no chimney for santa to come down on. though there's a christmas tree it's small but enough to spark up a little christmas spirit in everyone who enter. and the presents pile up underneath that tiny tree. the tiny foam wrapped in metalic paper presents hang. minature santas on sleighs. and unedible candy canes. the lights twinkle. with the silver star on the top. i unwrap the presents at the stroke of midnight. not so excited as i was 10years ago. i have lost my christmas spirit along with everything else. so i try to hide behind the fake little jolliness i put up. and smile when i yank open to find something i don't want under the tree. but they say it's a season for giving and not recieving. and here is where i sink deeply into the shadows.
i fought with my mum the day before christmas. about the way i am and how she tries to understand but doesn't. about how i talk too loudly and how rude i sound at times. about how i seems to close the door at her everytime she tries to talk to me. and the soap opera started. yes she cries again. and no i do not feel sorry for her. instead i'm sorry for me. of how i couldn't be some picture perfect soft spoken daughter she wants. of how i failed to just communicate with her when she wants to. of how life never seems to be a bed of roses with me around.
i ran and hide. that's what i do everytime life turns its back on me. i run. never wanting to face reality like i always have. reality seems to hurt way too much. in my space i hide. sitting at the corner where paper meets pen. and down goes my feelings on to the once blank piece of paper. no doubt i was just waiting to see my dad walk through those door with something to say about my little act with my mum that day. i am never wrong about this. i skip every song going through my ear drums. listen to the first five seconds and skip.
it gets sickening at this time. when you want to listen to music but every song that crosses your senses don't suit. and you find yourself just skipping every single song in that machinery you plug your ears to. and you have no choice because the sounds of the world just makes your stomach sick and your insides turn inside out. because at that time you'd rather turn deft than listen to any of the squabbles that's going to come your way.

so what happen to this once happy blogger.

life happened.

and now i feel caged. staring out the window with holes in my jeans. holes in my shoes. holes in my soul. where the emptiness lives to corrode the littleless spark of hope. spark of happiness. that is left. yeah. half of you would roll your eyes reading this just like that. without understanding what it must be like to be in my shoes. whatever crosses your mind. is just how i needed the attention. how i am being emotional. and how i just don't want to accept life as it is. so i say FUCK YOU.
go out more often. see the world. see what's happening in the alley behind your home. watch how everything slowly dies. observe how everything that's there to bring good now is more of a liability. weapons meant to protect lives now do more harm than protect. the world is no longer a place to run about outside and think you'd come back alive. everyday it's a struggle once your eyes open. it's a brand new day to relive what you lived yesterday.
grab your morning coffee. "what aroma?" you ask. take the papers and sits on the table sipping on your coffee reading the headlines. hair undone. teeth unbrushed. you walk into your office. face all the people who smile and pretend like they're your pals. when behind you they stab and kill every bit of goodness in you. everyone's smiling at you today. thinking it must be your day or something. hoping there's a promotion coming your way so you wouldn't need to eat chips for breakfast lunch and dinner. struggle to keep up with the rent. jolly you walk into your boss's office thinking he'd give you a step up after your latest project you spent sleepless nights on and worked over a runny nose and sore throat. then he gives you the pink slip and tells you to pack. cuz he didn't like you concept and neither did the critiques.
no you do not speak any more. you pack your stuff thinking of the rent now. and how you're going to fill this empty stomach of yours. your car breaks down on your way home. what are you gonna do. twenty bucks in your wallet for tonight's dinner. you call the tow truck and your line goes dead. you stand in the cold. what are you gonna do.

i'm a mere pupette in this game life plays. life pulls my strings. i have no might to fight and obey. life tosses me around and into the dirt. i just take it as it is. how scratched and rusted i may be. life doesn't care. life burns me and pierced through my system. poisoning everything i once love.

yeah. that's you life.

FUCK life.

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