10 November 2013

The Perishers - Pills

"One may think we're alright
But we need pills to sleep at night
We need lies to make it through the day
We're not okay."

That is one thing I can never.. say to you.

Bottom Line

Sometimes I wonder if being emotional is really a symptom of being a woman, or is it really a part of my nature to be this way. Although quite contrary to what most people (who possibly may not know me so well) observe - that I am highly cerebral with little feelings in my expressions - I am quite an erratic and unstable ball of emotions that could and would ricochet between extremes. Leaning possibly to being bi-polar. That, or I tend to indulge both mind and heart to express itself to its fullest potential, of which I can muster. It seems so easy to let my heart break and throw its tantrums, then in the next second, nonchalantly wipe my face into apathetic, emotionless absence and move on with my life.

Who am I fooling anyway? My mind is like a silent lover to my heart, quietly allowing my heart to nag and cry and beg and complain of its aches until it can calm down. Even when it feels strongly against the wills of the heart, my mind would, like a loyal lover, permit my heart to express itself (containing it only when it goes far beyond permissible), defending it with blind logic - you and me against the world.

This morning, I feel my heartstrings tugging at me. Like a random breakdown, I feel myself being sank down into a mild sadness. Such maladies are difficult to find a cure for, because it is not a physical rot that festers and aches - it is an intangible emotional decomposition that stinks but no one can smell, that breaks out that no one can detect, a unique pain that no medicine can cure, only sedate.

I find myself compelled to blog about a song I have written and composed a few months back with my band, Blue with Envy.


Bottom Line

Verse I:
I've kept my thoughts,
Tightly bubble wrapped
Shielded behind cracking walls of lies.
I'm second guessing
Praying for a point, a map
Shifting between hello's and goodbyes

Cross stitching stories
So the truth won't scrape your knee.
You deserve far better, far better than me.

There are some things, best spoken in mute.
There are some songs, best sung in heart.
There are some things, best understood,
when we're finally apart.

Verse II:
I feared you'd open my Pandora Box,
All my demons would come haunt your wake
My words boomerang
Raining arrows and rocks
I need to let you go for your own sake.

You don't know I'm battling
My own swords to set you free
You deserve far better, far better than me.


Let's get to the bottom line,
I don't think we're doing all that fine
I know you did your very best
Afraid I can't withstand this test.

You don't know I'm battling
My own swords to set you free
You deserve far better, far better than me.


(WIP Version)


Someone had once told me I shouldn't take sh*t from anyone. I should be able to stand up for myself. Conceding is a sign of weakness, so it seems. Possibly so. Strength is often associated with aggression, with fighting and defending. I do not question that. Though, sadly such can also work the other way. Aggression can be a sign of weakness - of desperation, of blindness, of insensitivity, of selfishness - how are those attributes strengths? How do you teach a person strength, when put in such vague a way as this?

Isn't it strength that a person can swallow his/ her pride after being told off and continue loving without question? Isn't it strength to quiet your heart from its childish selfishness and take a step back to avoid further conflict? Isn't it strength that even against your easiest desires to fall back into Milan Kundera's "vertigo",  a temptation to return to what is convenient, easy (yet possibly.. unhappy), you stand your ground to push forward for what you think will be best? Isn't it strength to understand, despite and in spite, even when one is at a disadvantage? (because everyone deserves to be understood) Isn't it strength to have compassion, and yet withhold initial, instinctual services because it is believed to be for that person's eventual benefit?

Why do we hurt others? Is it because of strength (for that person's benefit) or weakness (selfish reasons)?  

There are some things you have to let go. Not because you want to, but because you have to.

03 November 2013

Stubbornness is a Symptom of Love

“She had an overwhelming desire to tell him, like the most banal of women. Don't let me go, hold me tight, make me your plaything, your slave, be strong! But they were words she could not say.

The only thing she said when he released her from his embrace was, "You don't know how happy I am to be with you." That was the most her reserved nature allowed her to express.” 
― Milan KunderaThe Unbearable Lightness of Being

Stubbornness is a symptom of love.

Even in the most blatant and outright expression of rejection, a man or woman in desperate love would cling on to the thinning fibers of what had once been a beautiful tapestry of magic and soul and love. Begging for the return of a fairy tale laid to waste, hoping that things can still be right again.

In some cases, this can still hold true. In others, that dream is a fallacy destined to damn that hopeless lover into the shriveled persona of Miss Havisham. Leaving its full weight on his or her shoulders, to carry alone, when once they were two.

Fixated in that faint glimmer of hope, twinkling faintly in that distance, this poor soul would reach to the farthest edges of the earth trying to claim that fading star - doing the wretched, the foolish, the impossible - because that is what you do to claim a dream. You do everything that you can to be worthy of that dream.

More than a year has passed me, and time, I fear, has rendered me no more wise on the ways of love.

In the past year, struggle had been a constant companion as I sifted through the stories that had drained me to my very bones. Love can be filling, it can plump up one's heart, inspire boundless joy but similarly, love can be painful, leaving you starving until your very meat feels no more than mildew clinging onto your bones that feel no sturdier than dust.

When I have decided to walk away, I realize that love is beyond complying to a dream of a perpetual tomorrows with glorified endings under a colorful rainbow of memories to come, love is taking a step back and doing what will eventually and hopefully be what's best.

In the light of this, I write not to divulge my personal story, but to share the trials of a dear friend. I had once written how she had bravely stepped out of her comfort zone to fight for a love she feared to have lost due to her failures in the past. And truly, she had painstakingly filtered her entire lifestyle to accommodate the demands that this fight entailed. As her friend, our invitations had been constantly denied so she can devote as much time to the one man she wants to prove her love to. Despite so, we often find her at her wits end, in disarray, in paranoia and in desperation, as she could not convince him completely. Several times she would admit that it was her own doing that has caused him to be so fickle-minded and unsure, and to a given degree, I would permit her this self-bashing. Nonetheless, after a year of this confused cat and mouse chase, I fear that she has already earned her stripes, and yet her guilt remains weighing her down.

What worries me is that even in the midst of this turbulent lovesick puppy dog chase, she remains unshaken in her resolution to win him back. She has completely closed down all other options of dating, and has stood her ground that there can be no other person she could possibly love the same way. As much as I can say I admire her conviction, I am concerned for her well being. In optimism, I pray that we shall one day look back on these days and laugh how ridiculous and crazy this obsession had been.

A dear guy friend of mine had shared this truth with me previously, of which I wish to impart to her:

“If he’s not calling you, it’s because you are not on his mind. If he creates expectations for you, and then doesn't follow through on little things, he will do same for big things. Be aware of this and realize that he’s okay with disappointing you. Don’t be with someone who doesn't do what they say they’re going to do. If he’s choosing not to make a simple effort that would put you at ease and bring harmony to a recurring fight, then he doesn't respect your feelings and needs. “Busy” is another word for “asshole.” “Asshole” is another word for the guy you’re dating. You deserve a f*cking phone call.” 

“A man who wants to make a relationship work will move mountains to keep the woman he loves” 
― Greg Behrendt, He's Just Not That Into You"

The asymmetric exchange of personal investment in a relationship surely would cause one party to feel short-changed; and the fulfilling exuberance of giving becomes emotionally burdensome - doubt begins to seep in, questions begin to surface, conversations begin to be guarded - how can love possibly survive in constant withdrawal? Milan Kundera, my go-to love expert, writes, "No love can survive muteness", and I fear, the muteness of thoughts, the stifling of feelings, the hindrance of love will eventually poison a person to madness.

Stubborness is a symptom of love; but permit me to end this little discourse with the more civilized tongue of once again, Milan Kundera:

"But when the strong were too weak to hurt the weak, the weak had to be strong enough to leave." 

06 January 2013

Plugged In My Own World

Pulling out my blog from the attics of cyber oblivion and opening it once again for public consumption, I'd like to resume my postings with an artwork I have recently completed.

One of my favorite personal quotes is, "It is in silence that I know myself, perhaps in my silence, you shall know me as well." Thoughts run deep when you are locked in your own world of contemplation. In your own world - where there are no eyes to judge, no ears to eavesdrop, no tongues to gossip. Where the most unbearable noises come only from your own heart, and it is only yourself who can tame its laments. In one's absence from external affairs, in one's absence from social compromising and relationship building, introversion manifests and nothing feels better than being alone in one's room, diving into the depths of one's thoughts and soul. Alone, but definitely not lonely.

There are days when I wish I can plug out the outside cacophonies and demands that drain out my energy and at time, wits, and tend to my internal affairs. Such opportunities are rare, and often neglected even when the occasional chance would strut by. I guess my three month-long restrain from internet socializing and my withdrawal from certain social groups has provided me with sufficient rest and thought, as well as enough time to return to my roots. Music and art.

I've often run to them in my times of trial, and have taken them for granted on days of happiness and plenty. They've kept loyal to me though, and have once again provided their guidance in these days of emotional famine. My friends have engrossed me in all sorts of artistic endeavors that have surprised me - these, I intend to postpone or decline publication depending on necessity and mood.

As for my first 2013 art, I would have to pray forgiveness for its rather unclean look - it is not of my common styles. Firstly, I don't normally draw humans, as I've always been on the abstract side - more on doodling, to be honest. Secondly, I'm trying out a new Photoshop coloring technique, which I learned from my siblings - and changing a few of their styles to suit my own. Plugged is the outcome, and I'm fairly pleased how it came out.

I'll post the unedited, original sketch soon.