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Unprayer

Dark, darker, darkest, there is no difference. All hurts the same. Pain, everlasting, lingering. Pain, day and night. The hours are uncertain. Anything can happen now. Thinking about it hurts. Truth is unreliable. The romance is dead. My heart, it is lost. Unrecoverable, hateful, distrusting. Wishful, perhaps, but I have lost everything before and survived still. This one was special. So special. Embittered, the tip of my tongue tastes. The flavour of my life. Cuisine of kitchens unwanted. It burns, to the heart. I do not understand. I do not understand.
Recent posts

Me: Things that have happened to other people are happening in mine, the worst truly has come and not a moment too soon

My important wishes always happen to fall on deaf ears, and now something really, really bad (that has already happened before) is happening to me again. Beneath all the charade of misleading coulrotic bliss is a sad sap of a man merely wanting a bit of trust from everyone around him. Yesterday's news was Mioseon all over again, and it has drained me of all strength. The worst really has come, and heaven knows I'm miserable now.
So it goes without saying that the biggest tragedy I have ever undergone in my life is fighting for the life of my child whose face I will never see. The most perplexing event was having to beg over and over unknowingly oblivious to the fact that my words carry no weight at all. Mioseon had trapped me into a corner and made me complicit to a sin I tried very hard to disavow. Regardless, she had found a way, and judging from that experience, Miriam herself will submit me to the same torture all over again, guilty by association.
For some reason this wa…

Me: At ease, the worst of the worst has yet to come

The wind was cold today, a Sunday, a proper start to September. We are within these months again. The road to the end of a very short year. A year for me where very little was accomplished. At the very least, compared to the previous one, this was a surprise blessing. Not without its challenges. Not without its pains.
Miriam went to work an hour ago. We left each other at Starbucks after a mild break. I was trying to help her with the buses. She never seems to catch on with the intricacies of the public transportation. I let her know that the easiest (not necessarily the fastest) way to work is to take the 260 bus from across the street in our new place in East Acton and stop at the underground station in Shepherds Bush. From there, she can then take bus 94 going to Piccadilly Circus where she can easily walk to her workplace in Soho in about five minutes or so.
She begged me to join her. I was still groggy and asleep at two in the afternoon. That seems to be our common waking up pat…

Undone drafts, again

Me sitting down in this room trying to write this piece is Dunkirk on wheels. The ticks and tocks of life going slow-motion and clockwise rotating beyond the control of mere clockhands, slowly spinning, spiralling, perhaps, out of grasp. I will never find solace for tonight's manic episodes, and I fear for the days beyond tomorrow; where I will end up, in what state would I be in, or how the game plays out, etc. The game with which plays over and over in my head. The game with which there is no winning nor losing. I will never know the truth, and probably it is best for me to keep these thoughts to myself. I have been in the past guilty of so many mistaken intuitions.
The sky is darkening. No stars in the sky could mean rain, and that thought scares me so. The same rain that drenched my flesh from within the hedge I had taken for myself not too long ago. The same hedge from where I waited, and waited, and waited, and waited some more, for a miracle to happen. What if the miracle …

Snippet: In her darkest days, Elaine (worldbuilding), unfinished

Voices of strange busybodies could be heard on the other side of the edifice. Elaine reckoned she recognised one of them. An old friend. Perhaps not necessarily a friend, or not technically a friend. A friend is a rare commodity for her these days. She could walk right past them and not blink an eye, but Elaine waited for a little bit more until the lot toned down. Having a group of opposites around her, poking her skin through their eyes, meticulously making sure she was an enabler who to them an abundant source of entertainment, was all the reason needed to convince herself to back away from the complexity of it all. Home is an awful lot more awful than this place though, Elaine thought, as she gripped her handbag tightly, hoping the ray of darkness from the moon would envelope her and shield her from the attention of the lonesome trail.
"This would not have happened had you only listened to me, Elaine," complained Darco. "Half the people out there would skin us both…

Snippets of a lost tale: Adjourn, unfinished

It could be that if I had said no, my life would move on free from the cachinnations of random fury, but what seemed like a hopeless evening turned hopeful on the spot when the man on the other line asked her what I wanted to drink.
Cocktails just are not my thing. They have never stirred a salivating thirst in me, but free is free and fireworks displays were promised upon purchase. So me and Andrea said yes. Was I happy that I stayed with them both? Hard to say. The Sunday roast we had dined a few moments ago had quickly digested, and then I was hungering for something else.
I had zero expectations going in, only glad that I had found good pep. But good pep adds nothing to the occasion. I am unlike Mauritius over here, who appeared more predatory than a direwolf the first time I saw him emerge from the shadows in a separate hostel in Russell Square. It is my only deep regret of finding him again by coincidence staying here in Lord Southampton. It is really not in my best interest to…

True Blue

Bits and pieces of things long lost have started appearing out of nowhere all of a sudden. Memories of people, places, and thoughts associated with my belongings knock at the door waiting to be let in, never to be left on its own accord. I am to be the master puppeteer of this cerebral construct, of nightmares I wish were forgotten, of people I wish to rid all manner of associations with.
Mother had surprised Miriam with a message for me. Of a very far-fetched idea on how to maximise my potential to become something which I totally am not. A preacher for a religion I have absolutely no faith of of all things. Perhaps as a way to once again fuck up and atone for the totality of my insufferable existence. Fortunately for me I now have total control of my destiny. Something of which has never brought me much satisfaction, in fairness, true, but still the freedom to be a clueless and monumental buffoon is much more satisfying than to be a scholar trapped in the confines of virility, prej…