Denial

Please read Found then Lost before reading this entry. The entry below is a realisation of my current relationship with the people I once thought of as my family.

Have you ever felt so misplaced? Have you ever questioned your reality and wondered why you were birthed unto this spinning mudball? For so long, I felt I never belonged to someone or something. The first time I thought I belonged somewhere was my love for musical theatre. Being on stage gave me solidarity and sureness. I felt strong and confident.

As time went on, people moved forward from the theatre, and I lagged. I could never understand how they could move forward and how they could be so happy. Looking back at it now, I realise that having a strong foundation and support system propels people forward. I never had parents who supported me like that. What I had were two separate parents supporting me like I was their child. I think I was raised as two people by two parents and not by a loving couple.

After years of being alone, I found a new family from that cafe I mentioned in Found then Lost. I was trying to deny the fact that I was losing them as a family by staying at the cafe, ordering drinks, and listening to their conversations like nothing ever happened. The thing is though that something did happen, and I didn’t know what to do about it.

I thought that staying with them would bring myself back to them. The more I visited, the more hurt I felt because I saw how disconnected I was from them. I was once so close with them and seeing them be so friendly and family-like without me hurt. Being with them hurt me more than knowing I lost them.

Imagine a tiny larva wanting to be with a magnificent eagle, so the larva attaches itself to it. The eagle does not care for the larva, for the eagle is magnificent, and the larva is an insect. The wind from the eagle is too strong and too fast for the larva, but the larva sees the beauty of the eagle, so it hangs on more. However, the longer the larva is with the eagle, the more tired it gets. The larva realises that an insect cannot survive by being with a bird, so the larva leaves for good.

It’s been a while since I’ve last seen them. I assume that they’re doing well without me because why wouldn’t they be? Ever since I decided to detach myself from them, I felt so much lighter. I sometimes hear the raucous excitement from the cafe in my room (I live that close), and I feel sad that I’m left out. I tell myself, “It’s okay. I would feel worse if I was there with them.” Then, I’d go back to work. I’d move forward. I will continue to look for another place I could call home because I’m sure it’s no longer with them.

Enigma

Every night, the battle-scarred half-elf arrived at the tavern with eyes so tired they drooped over his bloodstained cheeks. He sat alone at the corner in an alcove where the barmaid brought him his usual mug of ale, a bowl of water, and a clean rag cloth. Sylorin, the half-elf, took a sip from the mug, lapping up the froth that clung to his lips. He stared at the split moon in the night sky as memories danced through his mind.

The blood on his face came from a small band of goblins that raided a nearby temple. He was paid a modest amount to rid of them, but he hated the job. As a child, his parents taught him the ways of the spear and dagger. He was the best in his class and eventually bested his mentor. But his passion lied in music. A pang of jealousy would bolt through him each time he passed by a bard in one of his adventures. It’s too late to turn back now. You’re too good at this, and people pay you for it. 

Sylorin’s first wife, a pure woodland elf named Alora whom he met 200 years ago, showed him the light he thought was lost. The sense of her touch from the gaze she gave crushed the wall he built around him. She was a breath of fresh morning air at spring. Everything about her was perfect, but the marriage came to an end. It was his fault.

He met a human girl 50 years later in the capital city’s library. Her appearance to many was mundane, like most humans, but her abrasive nature reeled him in. They had a brief relationship before parting ways from the city. They met once years later in a carnival. That was the last time he saw her.

He stared unthinkingly out the alcove, leaning on one hand, the other clutching the ale. Every so often he would hear a burst of laughter from the patrons that would pierce through the music. It did not interest him. Nothing in this material plane interested him. At least I’m alive, right?

“You know, you could try to be a little bit happier.” The barmaid came up to refill his mug. She was a fat woman with two children and a temper to match. “You’ve been at this alcove every night ever since my father first built this tavern.”

Her father was a good and honorable man. He was Sylorin’s first friend in a long time. Sadly, age took him. Humans had unbelievably short lifespans even though 70 was considered ‘old’ in their culture.

“Being in a place that feels like home does make me happy, Fastel.” Sylorin gave a flat and very tired smile. Fastel sighed but knew what he said was genuine. He continued, “People, not just humans, find me irritable, so finding happiness would be difficult with the entire world breathing down my back.”

“You’re not that important to grant the entire world a mild irritation.” Fastel’s eyebrow cocked along with an ever so slight smile. Sylorin chuckled, but what he found funny were moments like this with Alora. Fastel sensed that he had gone back into his memories and tried to snap him out of it. “Your room’s ready by the way. I don’t know how you manage to keep paying your rent. You would’ve owned this tavern by now.”

“I’m not very good at barmaiding given that I’m a…”

“A man or a sarcastic, egotistic, anti-social, foul-mouthed–“

“I get your point.” Sylorin waved away her smart comments, stood up, and paid for the ale with two silver pieces. He took his weapons and satchel from the table when he glanced at the noisy group of travelers across the tavern. They laughed at each other, though one talked less than the others. She was a human in a blue cloak.

“They’re new,” said Fastel, “from the east.” The woman in blue had lines patterned on her face that emphasised her eyes, no weapons, and a stack of books by her. Scholar perhaps? Interesting.

Sylorin climbed the stairs to his room, armour clinking against the wooden frames, and looked over his shoulders to the woman in blue from the east. She laughed and smiled at the others. Interesting. 

No Right to Fall in Love

This will sound completely stupid bordering absolute absurdity but at 2am, anything probably makes sense. There is this one person that I wanted to fall in love with ever since I first knew about him. It’s been five years since then, and all I’ve been able to do was stalk him over the internet. I try to look for decent photographs but he’s never out. I wanna know what other people think of him but he never interacts. He loves jazz on vinyl, coffee and alcohol with decent food, and incidentally has opened a coffeehouse and jazz bar because of it. Tokyo night life is probably the second thing he’s most interested in. Not the host clubs and karaoke, the I’ll-smoke-this-pack-till-4am kind. The first is probably love or some sort of human relationship, just in case you were wondering. I wouldn’t want to leave a thought out. Many of his colleagues, who are in the same line of profession, criticise him. He just loves breaking boundaries, and he’s good at it. That’s why I’ve always wanted be in love with this man. Yet I feel like I have no right to be. I know many things about him but know little about what he loves doing–write. I guess that’s what Haruki Murakmi does to people. I told you this would sound stupid bordering absolute whateverity. It’s 2am so who gives a fuck. It will probably take me years to finish all his works given that I’m taking my sweet time making notes on every page.

I’m perverse. You always knew, but I’m saying it.

My chest was invaded by pieces ever-expanding shards of ice. What was happening to me? I considered that a long shower would calm me down.

My invader liquefied into a thick hot stream of satin which coursed my arteries till my heart realized it was drowning in adrenalin. I felt so hot, unstable, and dizzy that the wall that protected my naked body from the outside quickly became a mother’s embrace while my shower head continued to rain on me. I tried catching my breath; I say I tried because I only got worse.

I relinquished myself to my veiled invader, not knowing what it was that made me concede. I concluded that I was longing for someone. Why? I thought. I don’t know why, but I wanted it. Of all the people I’ve been with, fell in love with, kissed with, held hands with, gazed eyes with, caught scent with, touched skins with, and shared silence with, there was only one in my mind. I had an unnatural desire to have her.

My synapses sparked for her when I had seconds for myself. This time was different; she just wouldn’t disappear from my head. Continue reading “I’m perverse. You always knew, but I’m saying it.”

Baby Come Back

Guess who’s back in the blogosphere? That’s right! Me! So Imma make a post in a couple of hours about a relationship I have with this girl, rediscovery of self-love, and Buddhism. I’m officially on vacation now, so the amount of posts will rocket! It’s great to be back! It’s great to be able to write what I want once again. Baby, I AM BACK.