Friday, July 23, 2010


The trick is to keep breathing.* Concentrate on your breaths, in, out, deep breaths. Clear your mind of all thoughts and just be. Maybe that's what yoga's all about. I wouldn't know. I can't just keep still, not even for a second. I don't have the willpower to barrage my thoughts. But if you tell yourself to just keep breathing, you live another day with the hope that tomorrow will be better.

I am milk, I am red hot kitchen. And I am cool, cool as the deep blue ocean. I am weak, yet I am strong. I can use my tears to bring you home. I'm waiting for you.* Day in, day out, I sit at the windowsill, wondering if you'll notice me. Hello. My name is &. And yours? I'm doing quite well actually, how 'bout you? A conversation between old friends, escept with the wisps of shy love surrounding our words. Or maybe a chance meeting between two strangers, a 'My goodness, I've never seen eyes like yours before. You're beautiful.' But these things never happen, not even in the movies. In commercials that sell Lady Speedstick deodorant. Complete with shining hair (made possible by Dove shampoo with natural extracts of cucumber and hazelnut oil) and a disgusting little pooch you'd just love to grill over an open fire and eat with barbecue sauce. Yum. Only I could go from poetic to romantic to cliche naive to biting sarcasm in the space of several minutes. Maybe I should take a daylit walk for once. I would see things differently. More colour, brightness. Milk, pure, creamy, cool. Kitchen, love, passion, sweat. Ocean, deep, refeshing, senseless. Your tears will bring me home.

Sometimes, sex is just sex and sometimes, sex is more. Passion and lust are in both instances. A relationship does not make the act of sex sacred or more sacred than it already is. Sex is as sacred as you can get. The difference between a hook-up and a relationship is that in the latter, the act also comes with emotion. the trust, the affection are absent from the former situation. Does that mean that the latter is better? That sex without emotion is on a lower level of holiness, worth, or whatever have you than just pure sex? Of course not. Raincheck.

Everybody has a secret world inside of them. All of the people in the whole world. I mean everybody. No matter how boring and dull they are on the outside. Inside them they've all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe.* If that's not a self-esteem boost, I don't know what is. I go to school and I see all these beautiful, really truly incredible people. And they're all just denying how truly amazing they are. It's so sad. Possibly the saddest thing I've ever seen. And all these people are beautiful even with all the faults they have and the mistakes they've made. Each one of us, every one of us. I have a friend. I think she's schizophrenic but I'm not too sure. She's the most incredible artist I've ever seen. She paints these surrealistic drawings that she's either hallucinated, dreamt or just dome up with. Those kinds of people just astound me. I've always been fascinated by mental illnesses, the way they can shape a person. I read a book once, Veronika Decides to Die by Paulo Coelho, where insanity is really not that much of a disease as an annoyance to the so-called normal people who call themselves society. I'm nt talking about psychopaths who murder, I'm talkign about those who are ostracized by society because of different perceptions of things, of life. Maybe if we accepted them instead of trying to cure them...I don't know. I don't know.

*title of Garbage song
*lyrics from "Milk" by Garbage
*quote by Neil Gaiman (Sandman)

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