Radio Silence

Five Years
That's a long time to be on sabbatical.

The question now is which event is more significant-
The one that resulted in the five year radio silence?
Or the event that resulted in me breaking said radio silence?

You ever get to the point where you've had to deal with all the vampiric idiots around you constantly, pushing back and looking for a little hope that maybe, just MAYBE they're not all "idiots". (read: insert other adjectives here.)
Then One fine day, you decide , it's not worth it and you give up on society. give up on trying to fix what's wrong with this world.

So then, you watch the world go by without starting a bar fight because you see someone misbehaving with a young lady or stopping three lanes of traffic because there's an idiot on his phone with ZERO attention on the road.

To give you some perspective thing of a lone wolf, walking through the night, not bothered with hunting anymore. Wasting away to what is now a shadow of the predator he once was.

Then one day you meet someone who barely knows you exist.

I still don't know what it is.
It's like there's a light somewhere at the end of the tunnel.
Maybe there is a reason to hope that this world is a better place.

Nineteen Monkeys

Over the years, I've learnt that there aren't really that many people you would actually die for. And honestly, there isn't a single person on this earth I'd die for.

That's the truth, plain and simple.

I simply don't understand the logic behind taking your own life for someone else's sake.

I mean, what's the point? How is you dying going to make someone else happy? that too someone else to whom you mean as much as they mean to you?

On the contrary, wouldn't it just cause them pain n grief?

I didn't always think this way though. there was a time when I actually would've died for "someone"
All that changed when i realized that if they're better off without you around, there is no point shooting yourself in the face.

Now, I'm not saying that no one's worth it. that's not true. Well, not always. I for example consider my family to be above everyone else. And when I say family, I don't mean just the individuals I'm blood-related to.

By Family, I mean those people without whom I'd feel like I had a hole the size of the moon in my heart.

And Exactly Nineteen Years ago, today. An idiot was plonked onto planet earth at some hospital of which I do not know the name.

I remember the first time i saw my brother. I thought he looked strangely familiar to a monkey. (Don't ask me, I was 4).
I even asked my mother where she got "the monkey" from.. And obviously, she just sat there laughing, along with my grandparents and probably every nurse and doctor in the hospital building.

Anyway. Nineteen years on, that "Monkey" has grown up to be the young man most envy. I for one, am proud of my little brother.

Problem is, I just realized he isn't really little anymore.

I'm Sorry.

There was a time in my life when I felt nothing. A time, at which I was my weakest.


I had become so numb, maybe even heartless??

I even went to the extent of trying, actually making myself feel pain, sometimes physical, almost always psychological. Since the latter seems to have no boundaries when it comes to the extent of pain it can cause one to feel.

I believed that pain was the only feeling I could feel. And that my tiny stupid heart had been damaged so badly that it couldn’t feel anything else.

Feeling pain, physical or psychological, made me feel alive. Made me feel like I wasn’t just a living breathing bag of flesh and bones. As if I actually lived and not merely existed as a miniscule, irrelevant entity on this planet.

I cannot express how much you mean to me. I simply cannot. Though I may not have to.

I want you to understand that “there is no way I would let go of you” not unless YOU wanted me to from every bit of your heart.

And PLEASE do not think about disappointing me. That simply isn’t possible. The ONLY thing that can break my heart is you falling in love with another man. But in that case I cannot be cross with you. It is what your heart desires, and I have no right to force you to think otherwise.

I’m sorry that I’ve made you cry. And that I’ve made you angry (li’l bit). And maybe just smile a little with tears in your eyes when u read the “li’l bit”. MAYBE.

I’m sorry for all the times I’ve said stupid things and for all the times that I may say stupid things in the future.

I’m sorry that I cannot be there to hold you and that I cannot promise you I will be there tomorrow.

However, what I am NOT sorry for, and never EVER will be sorry for, is falling in love with YOU.

You may not think of yourself as much, that’s alright. One day you’ll see yourself through my eyes and you will see How Beautiful you are, How Amazing you are, and how simply PERFECT you are.

Thought of the Moment

Right this moment, before you finish reading this line, what do you reckon is the one most prominent thought on your mind?

To me, it could be a bunch os different things.

It could be the fact that I've been writing again, after over a month of absolute literary silence.

It couls be, thoughts of the one girl that ripped my world out from right underneath my feet.

OR, it could be this little bit of smokey, bubbly ecstasy I've got in front of me.

But, you know what, it's none of those things.

It isn't even the thought of this beautiful, and I mean absa-freakin-loutely BEAUTIFUL girl I see at work ever day.

What I had on my mind, were thoughts of home.

Not the place where Dad's built a house at n Mom's busy in the kitchen.

When I say home, I mean that wooden table on an iron frame that I'd hang out at with my brothers.

Just us, some sheesha, kirkire, a couple of club sandwiches and the topic of the day, which could range from football, to formula1 to some random chic we'd seen walkin down the street with some "Lucky Bastard!"

However we start the day, it always ends the same way. With two questions.

1) Who da fuck is paying?

And

2) What time tomorrow?

THAT, is home.

Just us brothers, some sheesha, kirkire and a couple of club sandwiches.

My Greatest Fear

What is your greatest fear?

Yes, its true that we always have an answer whenever we're asked that.

But how accurate is that answer?

I mean do you really fear spiders that much?

Ask yourselves, what do you really, REALLY fear the most?

I know what I fear the most. Just realised what it was.

My Greatest Fear, is being forgotten. To have not existed.

There was a time I wished I were forgotten, to be invisible and stay that way. But now, its my worst nightmare.

I think maybe that's why I decided to start writing. Because that way, no matter who walks into my life and how they walk out of my life, Someone, Somewhere will know my story. Someone, Somewhere will always, ALWAYS remember.

So, for those of you who have left, for those of you who have forgotten. Those of you, to whom I never existed.

I DON'T CARE.

I could breathe before you. and blood. Flowed through my veins before you

And now, after you're gone. I'll still breathe.

True, It may be difficult for a while. And I may need a heart-lung machine.

We all have to go through such a phase, at least once during our lives, albeit for different reasons.

But hey, Fear and Pain-not the physical kind, probably the two feelings that make us truly human.

They remind us that we aren't invincible and that we aren't the Masters of the Universe. It reminds us of our place as tiny fragile beings.

Obituary

Every story has an ending. Some have happy one. But some of the greatest, end tragically. Well, maybe not always. But more often than not.

I am, like every one of you reading this, a mere human. I have my limits. If you trip me, I'll stumble, and maybe even fall. If you stab me, I'll bleed.

And when we see the end nearing, we done one from a handful of things. Run and hide, take it as it comes, or maybe bring help.

The end, however, is inevitable. And no amout of preparation, no thickness of armour, will ever be enough.

A writer cannot write without a muse.

A writer cannot exist without a muse. And this writer refuses to find another muse.

I may manage without my muse. But I made a promise, a promise I still wish to keep. But, if things go on like this, it'll be a promise I will be unable to keep.

I cannot put anyone through any sort of pain. Not at least, for ME.

I'm sorry, but that's the way I was raised.

I don't need to be fixed. I don't WaNT to be fixed.

Therefore, today a story ends. And a good man, or a part of him is dead.

R. Is Dead!

Because I Don't Know How Not to

How far would you go for someone?

What is the last thing you'd like to do before taking your last breath?

Ever ask yourselves these questions?

Well I've been asking myself just that all day.

Actually, all day for a few days now.

And I've decided that Although somethings do not change, and probably never will, I know I must let go.

Because one day, many many years from now (if I'm around that long), I'll think of these last 3-6 months and cherish them as probably the best of my life.

BUT, when you think of them, you'll wish they were 30-40 YEARS instead. Because no matter what you think, or say or believe, I love you More than anyone has ever loved a girl.

But this doesn't matter anymore.

I'm just a boy, in love with a girl, hoping, praying and begging her to love him back.

No wait, I WAS that.

You're the BEST thing that's ever happened to me.

You're the BEST part of my life.

Umm. No. Those don't sound right either.

Right now, I wish I'd never met you. NOT because I don't love you. But because I DO. And I don't know how to stop.

But you know what? Every person I've met after I've met you, has been worth meeting.

And yeah, I know. Some primitive brains cannot understand what my simple yet expressive words convey.

So now, I'm ripping my heart (or at least what's left of it) out of my chest. And now I'll either be that person you, and all those before you believe I really am. At least that way, no one will ever call me fake.

Either I'll be that, or I won't be at all.

Not to you anyway.