[Denial] Day 7: 1700H, 062708. That mandatory ’soundtrack of your life’ post

 Broken Heart
Motion City Soundtrack 

I’ll start this broken heart
I’ll fix it up so it will work again
Better than before
Then I’ll star in a mystery
A tragic tale of all that’s yet to come
Fingers crossed there will be love

But I get carried away with every day
And every fantasy
the deeper the wound,
the harder I swoon and wish that that was me

So much to say
But no words to convey
The loneliness building with each passing day
But I’m getting used to it, you have to get used to it

I’ll devise the best disguise
A brand new look and take them by surprise
They’ll never guess what’s not inside

I’ll express myself with ease,
With confidence and character complete
With fingers crossed they’ll talk to me

But I get carried away with every page
In every magazine
The cheaper the thrill
the deeper I fill my head with blasphemy

So much to say
But No words to convey
The loneliness building with each passing day
But I’m getting used to it, you have to get used to it

I’ll destroy this useless heart
I’ll fuck it up so it’ll never beat again
Not just for me but for anyone

But I get carried away
with every phrase and made up malady
The longer I hide behind these lies,
The more I disintegrate

So much to say
But no words to convey
The loneliness building with each passing day
But I never get used to it, you just have to live with it

(A/N: Go listen to Motion City Soundtrack, they’re damn good. Go. Now I say. NOW! )

[Bargaining] Day 6: 0230H, 062408. Wait for sleep (but it will never come)*

    Why did you have to decide to end the relationship? I know the final nail in the coffin was the long distance of sorts. Physically, 10, 20-ish kilometers is nothing - a couple of rides, an hour’s wage worth of fare, the time to take a nice bath. It was our worlds that were so far away. It was fuckin’ hard for both of us - you and me living in different worlds with the rarest of common schedules; me being quite a penniless bum with a bum thesis, you in a job that’s eating you away one day at a time. But it’s not as if the situation was permanent. I will be able to finally pass this thesis, graduate, find a better job; you’ll move on to a (hopefully) better job with a decent schedule, finish your thesis, then practice your love for the sciences. Was it too much to ask you to hold on just a wee litle longer?

    Then again, I’m not exactly that great a guy to wait for. Even now, I still don’t get what you saw in me - a dense, rather not-so-good-not-so-bad-on-everything, wishy-washy, never-did-look-good, [insert other adjectives here] person. (more…)

[Bargaining] Day 5: 0030H, 062308. (Self never) forgiven, (you’re) not forgotten*

    Memories. One can really hate how memories about someone have this nasty tendency to ambush you when and where you least expect them to. While riding a bike and partially hearing a random song from the random radio you suddenly remember that someone singing the same song to you and laughing that laugh you so loved; when the sound of the first drops of a hard rain falling upon the GI roof reaches your ears you suddenly remember that cold rainy afternoon spent snuggled on the couch, looking into each others’ eyes, tracing one’s contures with the other’s lips; when you sniff a certain scent from a random passerby you suddenly remember how that someone’s nape smells so sweet and sensous even after a long day… you get the picture. (more…)

[Depression] Day 4: 0045H, 062208. A bottle of jagged little pills*

    I’m a bookworm. Maybe it’s because my rather active imagination allows me to visualize what’s happening with great alacrity. Or because the author’s storytelling is quite good and engaging. But most likely it’s just because books offer me a cheap, reusable, cost-efficient way to escape this world. Books are my drugs, my painkillers, my booze, my sleeping pills. They make me forget about the crap of this world. They distract me from the pain. They help me sleep. They give me focus. They make me laugh. They challenge my mind. They make me happy. They tickle my imagination. They fill voids you never knew was there. They transport me to world I never did know was there. (more…)

[Denial] Day 2: 1111H, 062008. Radio almost killed the errand star*

    This world of ours has a sick sense of humor. I was on this random errand an hour ago - I just have to buy this small bottle of contact cement - nothing tedious, nothing strange, nothing new, just a normal task. Along the way there was this stupid radio that just had to blare this out as i passed by: 

there’s a reason why people
don’t say where they are
because sometimes love just
ain’t enough

    - ‘Sometimes love just ain’t enough’, Patty Smyth

     I screamed ‘fuck you world’ to the shock of the cat drinking water from the gutter. No kidding. And yes, nothing beats the ’something got into my eye while outside’ line when someone asks you if you’ve been crying.

    Now, even my old refuge called ’sleep’ is no longer a welcome place to be. I know I think loudly. But now, I think way too loudly I can’t sleep. And an idle mind tends to ruminate on things it shouldn’t exactly ruminate on at the moment. So there. Back to work. Now if only this world would stop WinAmp from ‘randomly’ playing certain songs…

(A/N: * - Originally ‘Video killed the radio star’, a song by the Buggles. And yes, given the right video, it can also kill the errand star wtih impunity.)