dammitdammitdammit
no work done today
excellent, when duncan asks for an update i can tell him that i spent sunday sticking a letter on my exboyfriend's door and then walking around bondi junction in a semi-conscious state and later cleaning the kitchen and rhapsodizing about truffles to anyone who will listen.
the letter was to tie things up. the way i ended it has been plagueing me and it felt like there were so many things i left unsaid which i had to say before i could move on. so there. one thing done.
focus. thesis. FB's iq thingy tells me i have an iq of 142. i should be a genius therefore this should be a breeze. alternatively that iq thing is whacked and i'm screwed. i'm inclined to agree with the latter.
i CAN be a genius, but only when i'm not preoccupied with
a) sex
b) thinking about sex
c) men
d) my nails
e) my next meal
which means never. or only at 2 in the morning.
sigh... why does my brain not cooperate with me?
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Scent
I just tried truffles for the first time. Tetsuya's black truffle salsa mixed into butter and slathered onto a lightly toasted slice of wholemeal sourdough from Laurent. Now I get it. The whole fuss about truffles. They smell like sex. Musky, pungent, earthy. It's like nothing else I've ever smelt. Sticking my nose into the tiny jar sent my olfactory nerves ablaze and the first thing it evoked was sex. Raw animalistic sex. The heady scent is just indescribable and that's the closest approximation I can come up with. My little epiphany at 11pm in a dinky kitchen. Ok, sure I've had dishes which purportedly contain truffle oil but those don't come anywhere close to this. Any traces of truffles in the pasta you get at Alexis are drowned by everything else they chuck in - mushrooms, cream, more cream. It's damn near undetectable. There are too many other flavours and textures to draw your attention there. But this. There's no mistaking this. Forget oysters, if you want an aphrodisiac truffles are the way to go. Oysters are mere imagery and texture - who associates sex with brine? Oysters are delicious in their own right but as aphrodisiacs they get their hard shelled innards whooped by truffles. Asparagus? hah, I laugh at you. Scent is where it's at. And the scent of truffles is lingering in my nose and my mouth. The way the sillage of a perfume lingers in a room after the wearer has left, the aroma of truffles lingers in my senses.
On a similar note, I took a whiff of Etat Libre d'Orange's Magnificent Secretions perfume in Mecca today. That too smelt like sex, but in a completely different way. I guess the name says it all. It smelt like the atmosphere in a room post-coitus, animalistic notes, semen, blood. It made me frown but I still took a second sniff. Interesting and unique yes. Wearable? NO! Truffles smell like raw animalistic sex. Magnificent Secretions smelt like the dirtier, sadomasochistic, even more violent older brother of aforementioned sex with the element of pleasure removed. Almost foul. Nurgh..
I'm going to play with my truffle salsa more tomorrow - with gently warmed olive oil in fresh pasta? mmm...
This will be my substitute for sex. Because I'M BEING GOOD. dammit. I'm overworked and undersexed.
On a similar note, I took a whiff of Etat Libre d'Orange's Magnificent Secretions perfume in Mecca today. That too smelt like sex, but in a completely different way. I guess the name says it all. It smelt like the atmosphere in a room post-coitus, animalistic notes, semen, blood. It made me frown but I still took a second sniff. Interesting and unique yes. Wearable? NO! Truffles smell like raw animalistic sex. Magnificent Secretions smelt like the dirtier, sadomasochistic, even more violent older brother of aforementioned sex with the element of pleasure removed. Almost foul. Nurgh..
I'm going to play with my truffle salsa more tomorrow - with gently warmed olive oil in fresh pasta? mmm...
This will be my substitute for sex. Because I'M BEING GOOD. dammit. I'm overworked and undersexed.
God bless, thank you.
Bittersweet - Sara Bareilles
Bittersweet seasons.
Mistake a warm winter for spring.
Seems like I'm best at leaving when leaving is not the best thing.
You couldn't help it if you needed more than I could give.
That's just the way it goes. Now..
I call you misplaced but never a waste of my time.
Everybody's gonna make mistakes,But you'll never be one of mine.
You couldn't help it if you needed more than I could give.
That's just the way it goes.
I knew you felt me leaving long before I ever did.
That's just the way it goes now.
Loved me fearless when you needed to.
You would not rest till you came through.
So god bless and thank you.
There is no anger, it's just you and I and the truth.
You can try to make her but love will not be forced to bloom.
You couldn't help it if you needed more than I could give.
That's just the way it goes.
The only love worth fighting for is one that you can win and,
That's just the way it goes now.
You would not break but you could bend.
And for love's sake you let love end,
But I still swear that you were god sent.
And you stood before me knowing that the wings I have you gave.
And that's just the way it goes now.
And I barely have the breath to breathe much less to fly away.
And that's just the way it goes now.
And a silence entered the room for a one last,
"I'm gonna love you."
So god bless and thank you.
So god bless and thank you.
Thank you.
(well of course I could write something original but when songs or poems capture what I'm feeling so perfectly, so much better than I could express, there is no need to write my own)
Bittersweet seasons.
Mistake a warm winter for spring.
Seems like I'm best at leaving when leaving is not the best thing.
You couldn't help it if you needed more than I could give.
That's just the way it goes. Now..
I call you misplaced but never a waste of my time.
Everybody's gonna make mistakes,But you'll never be one of mine.
You couldn't help it if you needed more than I could give.
That's just the way it goes.
I knew you felt me leaving long before I ever did.
That's just the way it goes now.
Loved me fearless when you needed to.
You would not rest till you came through.
So god bless and thank you.
There is no anger, it's just you and I and the truth.
You can try to make her but love will not be forced to bloom.
You couldn't help it if you needed more than I could give.
That's just the way it goes.
The only love worth fighting for is one that you can win and,
That's just the way it goes now.
You would not break but you could bend.
And for love's sake you let love end,
But I still swear that you were god sent.
And you stood before me knowing that the wings I have you gave.
And that's just the way it goes now.
And I barely have the breath to breathe much less to fly away.
And that's just the way it goes now.
And a silence entered the room for a one last,
"I'm gonna love you."
So god bless and thank you.
So god bless and thank you.
Thank you.
(well of course I could write something original but when songs or poems capture what I'm feeling so perfectly, so much better than I could express, there is no need to write my own)
Saturday, August 30, 2008
cheers darlin'
"the same human frailties, the same human weaknesses"
resonance. The manifestation of these words lies in me, in everything and everyone around me. It is inescapable I suppose, that we repeat the same thoughts, repeat the same mistakes over and over again until something clicks. There is comfort in the familiar, like a well-worn path through the shrubbery. Like treading along such a path, treading the same thoughts and emotions ensures a certain regularity and is facilitated by that which has gone before. It is easy, even when it is not. The dangers of repetition. The comforts of repetition.
It is both dangerous and comforting, this repetition. Like the recitation of a prayer, commited to memory, it requires no new thoughts and no exploration of the unknown. It is already known where they will lead. It is almost an article of faith, to know what lies ahead and to have that certainty, if not consciously, then in the depths of your mind and far underneath the surface of superficialities and self-torment. Because that is part of it, a secret masochistic tendency to inflict pain upon others and yourself. It is this pain that reminds you, that reminds me that I am human after all. That I am not, as I sometimes think, dead inside. To feel emotion, any emotion, is an indicator of life and of humanity. A vital sign, if you will. Possibly, it is proof that the mind does not and cannot conquer all. Sheer intellect and willpower is not enough sometimes.
I forget why repetition is dangerous now.
TBC
resonance. The manifestation of these words lies in me, in everything and everyone around me. It is inescapable I suppose, that we repeat the same thoughts, repeat the same mistakes over and over again until something clicks. There is comfort in the familiar, like a well-worn path through the shrubbery. Like treading along such a path, treading the same thoughts and emotions ensures a certain regularity and is facilitated by that which has gone before. It is easy, even when it is not. The dangers of repetition. The comforts of repetition.
It is both dangerous and comforting, this repetition. Like the recitation of a prayer, commited to memory, it requires no new thoughts and no exploration of the unknown. It is already known where they will lead. It is almost an article of faith, to know what lies ahead and to have that certainty, if not consciously, then in the depths of your mind and far underneath the surface of superficialities and self-torment. Because that is part of it, a secret masochistic tendency to inflict pain upon others and yourself. It is this pain that reminds you, that reminds me that I am human after all. That I am not, as I sometimes think, dead inside. To feel emotion, any emotion, is an indicator of life and of humanity. A vital sign, if you will. Possibly, it is proof that the mind does not and cannot conquer all. Sheer intellect and willpower is not enough sometimes.
I forget why repetition is dangerous now.
TBC
que te parecen?
I think:
JW has been telling tales on me to my mom - she wanted to visit me in Sydney soon. hmm... worried about the sanity of her youngest daughter?
coffee has stopped working on me
talking to myself helps. a lot.
democratization. soft authoritarian states. decentralization. civil society. cooption. repeat until linkages form.
i should have done law or physics or something which does not involve original research and critical thinking.
(but they are just sooo tedious! and look at the people you know doing law.. ugh. soulless hamsters)
one day i will look back and laugh. NOT ANYTIME SOON!!
fuck. i can't write today.
so going to delete this.
JW has been telling tales on me to my mom - she wanted to visit me in Sydney soon. hmm... worried about the sanity of her youngest daughter?
coffee has stopped working on me
talking to myself helps. a lot.
democratization. soft authoritarian states. decentralization. civil society. cooption. repeat until linkages form.
i should have done law or physics or something which does not involve original research and critical thinking.
(but they are just sooo tedious! and look at the people you know doing law.. ugh. soulless hamsters)
one day i will look back and laugh. NOT ANYTIME SOON!!
fuck. i can't write today.
so going to delete this.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
there's a worm in my brain
why oh why doesn't my brain work?
3000 - 1000 = 2000
for a discussion chapter. this should be a piece of cake! all I need to do is to churn out 2000 words that reflect on my research findings and draw linkages to 'the bigger picture'. and after the 9000 words monstrosity that was The Chapter, this should be easy.
grrr..... work dammit!
on the bright side, I have pretty nails.
I'm meant to be a bimbo, not an honours student.
3000 - 1000 = 2000
for a discussion chapter. this should be a piece of cake! all I need to do is to churn out 2000 words that reflect on my research findings and draw linkages to 'the bigger picture'. and after the 9000 words monstrosity that was The Chapter, this should be easy.
grrr..... work dammit!
on the bright side, I have pretty nails.
I'm meant to be a bimbo, not an honours student.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
point
I know what I need to do. It's time to move on (from all of them) and be alone for awhile. Otherwise I will have learnt nothing from the past two years.
I suppose this is growing up
I suppose this is growing up
Neruda: XX
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a los lejos."
El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.
En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.
Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.
Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.
Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.
Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.
Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.
La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.
Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.
De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.
Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.
Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.
Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, "The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance."
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tongiht I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her,
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul cannot be content, because I have lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same nightfall whitening the same trees.
But we have both changed so much since that night.
Surely I no longer love her, but how I once loved her
My voice sought the wind to touch her hearing
Another's. She will be another's. As before I had kissed her.
Her voice. Her pale body. Her endless eyes.
Surely I no longer love her, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul cannot be content, because I have lost her.
Even if this is the last pain she makes me suffer
and these are the last verses that I write for her.
Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a los lejos."
El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.
En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.
Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.
Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.
Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.
Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.
Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.
La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.
Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.
De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.
Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.
Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.
Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, "The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance."
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tongiht I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her,
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul cannot be content, because I have lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same nightfall whitening the same trees.
But we have both changed so much since that night.
Surely I no longer love her, but how I once loved her
My voice sought the wind to touch her hearing
Another's. She will be another's. As before I had kissed her.
Her voice. Her pale body. Her endless eyes.
Surely I no longer love her, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul cannot be content, because I have lost her.
Even if this is the last pain she makes me suffer
and these are the last verses that I write for her.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
breathe in
exhale
repeat
shit. this is so much harder than i thought it would be. the approach i was going to take won't work because i'm not qualified to make the judgement i thought i could so i need to rearrange this section. participation. this is hell.
remind yourself: this is not as terrible as you think it is. calm down and take a step back. go back to the start, look at what you have, take it back to the material and let it speak to you
easier said than done when your own biases keep weighing in on things
this is why my first choice for a topic wasn't on malaysia. too much personal bias, too much history. objectivity flys out the window the minute i stop concentrating and let conjecture take over. that is going into the methodology section as one of the limitations to the thesis.
i guess i doesn't help that i woke up this morning wishing it was june again. i miss june. june was happy. i had people i love around me, taking them around the city i love, i felt loved and i thought i was faling in love. the research month was ahead of me, full of possibilities, exploration.
the difference two months makes
this will pass
it's hormonal. give yourself a couple of days and it'll be fine
exhale
repeat
shit. this is so much harder than i thought it would be. the approach i was going to take won't work because i'm not qualified to make the judgement i thought i could so i need to rearrange this section. participation. this is hell.
remind yourself: this is not as terrible as you think it is. calm down and take a step back. go back to the start, look at what you have, take it back to the material and let it speak to you
easier said than done when your own biases keep weighing in on things
this is why my first choice for a topic wasn't on malaysia. too much personal bias, too much history. objectivity flys out the window the minute i stop concentrating and let conjecture take over. that is going into the methodology section as one of the limitations to the thesis.
i guess i doesn't help that i woke up this morning wishing it was june again. i miss june. june was happy. i had people i love around me, taking them around the city i love, i felt loved and i thought i was faling in love. the research month was ahead of me, full of possibilities, exploration.
the difference two months makes
this will pass
it's hormonal. give yourself a couple of days and it'll be fine
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
not only am i eventually going to hell, i'm there right now
I'm feeling incredibly, terribly dysfunctional today
swinging between misery and stress and self-absorption
between the two of them i'm effectively fucked up for the next 2 years or so, i'd say
funny how i can put a timeline on that
and in the depths of my misery there's a little, evil voice in my head laughing at me. 'oh the drama! you like being miserable. it's your natural state. happiness will never sit well with you, not for long anyway. because once you've gotten over the novelty of it you go looking for reasons to tear it apart.'
swinging between misery and stress and self-absorption
between the two of them i'm effectively fucked up for the next 2 years or so, i'd say
funny how i can put a timeline on that
and in the depths of my misery there's a little, evil voice in my head laughing at me. 'oh the drama! you like being miserable. it's your natural state. happiness will never sit well with you, not for long anyway. because once you've gotten over the novelty of it you go looking for reasons to tear it apart.'
pause
a sudden pang
ouch
why does this hurt more than i thought it would?
emotions are the bane of my existence
ouch
why does this hurt more than i thought it would?
emotions are the bane of my existence
Sunday, August 10, 2008
an inventory
1 laptop
1 latte cup holding:
- 5 pens
- 1 steel ruler
- 1 pair of scissors
- 1 stapler
- 1 penknife
- 2 highlighters
1 oddly shaped bowl holding:
- too many namecards for me to bother counting
- ditto to coffee cards
- coins, AU and MY and TH
- 1 pocket mirror
- 1 pair of tweezers
- 1 thumbdrive
- 1 swiss army knife
- 2 batteries
- 1 keychain
- random bits of paper
1/4 bar of cadbury chocolate, tiramisu
1 tin of Haigh's dark chocolate covered coffee beans
1 box of Haigh's truffles
1 packet of gingernut cookies, opened
1/2 a packet of dark m&ms
1 packet of TNCC jellybears
1/2 a packet of kopiko sweets
1 hexagonal container holding:
- 2 lollipops
- starburst sweets
- reeses pieces
- a packet of sugar
- more kopiko sweets
- 1 clothespin (err..)
1 tin of travel sweets, forest fruits
1 watch
3 dollar coins
1 contact lens case (ah..)
4 highlighters, scattered
2 black ink pens - Pilot drawing pens, 2.0 (it's an obsession, won't write with anything else except maybe)
1 blue ink pen - Staedtler triplus fineliner
2 hand creams - Neutrogena and Opi
1 calculator (dust-covered)
1 round containder cover holding:
- 2 lip balms - TBS coconut lip butter, L'occitane creamy honey
- 1 cuticle creme thing - Burt's Bees
- 3 paperclips
1 lip balm - Philosophy: kiss me (i really hoard these things)
1 pack of chewing gum - Wrigley's extra
1 cable snaking from the laptop to the printer
1 cable snaking from the laptop to power source
1 table light
1 cable dangling from table light
1 roll of film
AU15.20
1 moleskine
1 hair tie
1 mini note pad from the Arc
1 set of headphones
1 glass of water
1 mobile phone
and now the really really fun part:
6 books from Selangor JPBD on Selangor Agenda 21 - guidelines, policy documents, etc
2 LA21 pilot project books from the ministry of housing and local government
1 notebook with near illegible handwriting (mine, of course. who else has illegible handwriting?)
16 sets of transcriptions, highlighted and scribbled upon in the margins
2 large envelopes, containing research-related material
misc sheets of paper
4 journal articles
1 packet of blutack (gotta love this stuff)
4 booklets from CETDEM
2 conference proceedings from EPSM
more papers
2 previous honours theses, on loan from the honours common room library
3 inches of paper (i don't really want to go through them to see what they are)
and don't get me started on the table behind me and the floor
or the books stacked on my printer
or the mess under the table behind me
i'm going to paint my nails now
1 latte cup holding:
- 5 pens
- 1 steel ruler
- 1 pair of scissors
- 1 stapler
- 1 penknife
- 2 highlighters
1 oddly shaped bowl holding:
- too many namecards for me to bother counting
- ditto to coffee cards
- coins, AU and MY and TH
- 1 pocket mirror
- 1 pair of tweezers
- 1 thumbdrive
- 1 swiss army knife
- 2 batteries
- 1 keychain
- random bits of paper
1/4 bar of cadbury chocolate, tiramisu
1 tin of Haigh's dark chocolate covered coffee beans
1 box of Haigh's truffles
1 packet of gingernut cookies, opened
1/2 a packet of dark m&ms
1 packet of TNCC jellybears
1/2 a packet of kopiko sweets
1 hexagonal container holding:
- 2 lollipops
- starburst sweets
- reeses pieces
- a packet of sugar
- more kopiko sweets
- 1 clothespin (err..)
1 tin of travel sweets, forest fruits
1 watch
3 dollar coins
1 contact lens case (ah..)
4 highlighters, scattered
2 black ink pens - Pilot drawing pens, 2.0 (it's an obsession, won't write with anything else except maybe)
1 blue ink pen - Staedtler triplus fineliner
2 hand creams - Neutrogena and Opi
1 calculator (dust-covered)
1 round containder cover holding:
- 2 lip balms - TBS coconut lip butter, L'occitane creamy honey
- 1 cuticle creme thing - Burt's Bees
- 3 paperclips
1 lip balm - Philosophy: kiss me (i really hoard these things)
1 pack of chewing gum - Wrigley's extra
1 cable snaking from the laptop to the printer
1 cable snaking from the laptop to power source
1 table light
1 cable dangling from table light
1 roll of film
AU15.20
1 moleskine
1 hair tie
1 mini note pad from the Arc
1 set of headphones
1 glass of water
1 mobile phone
and now the really really fun part:
6 books from Selangor JPBD on Selangor Agenda 21 - guidelines, policy documents, etc
2 LA21 pilot project books from the ministry of housing and local government
1 notebook with near illegible handwriting (mine, of course. who else has illegible handwriting?)
16 sets of transcriptions, highlighted and scribbled upon in the margins
2 large envelopes, containing research-related material
misc sheets of paper
4 journal articles
1 packet of blutack (gotta love this stuff)
4 booklets from CETDEM
2 conference proceedings from EPSM
more papers
2 previous honours theses, on loan from the honours common room library
3 inches of paper (i don't really want to go through them to see what they are)
and don't get me started on the table behind me and the floor
or the books stacked on my printer
or the mess under the table behind me
i'm going to paint my nails now
I tried but you stopped
that is all there is to it.
over
and it ends, as they all must end. with a smile or with a tear or with nothing.
examine my inbuilt fatalism. i already know what they will say. you call that trying? it is to me. you run, everytime. i know but you can see why. but i thought you said... i was wrong, foolish and blinded by the distance and wanting to be with someone who in memory, from a distance, seemed to be more than he was. oh well...
that's how it will go because i know my friends so well. and they know me so well
sarcasm?
maybe, depends
maybe i will remember from time to time, that which it was
but never forgetting that which it became
a mute soliloquy
and now i will work
goodbye you
that is all there is to it.
over
and it ends, as they all must end. with a smile or with a tear or with nothing.
examine my inbuilt fatalism. i already know what they will say. you call that trying? it is to me. you run, everytime. i know but you can see why. but i thought you said... i was wrong, foolish and blinded by the distance and wanting to be with someone who in memory, from a distance, seemed to be more than he was. oh well...
that's how it will go because i know my friends so well. and they know me so well
sarcasm?
maybe, depends
maybe i will remember from time to time, that which it was
but never forgetting that which it became
a mute soliloquy
and now i will work
goodbye you
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