|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| Grasping for straws, seeking to slake an unending thirst for warmth and retreat. Skidding along, stopping only to tumble over divots endless in sight. Wallowing about, unable to gather enough for that final push forward.
I sidle along to a dissonant beat, gathering thoughts but not very neat. This lull has extended past the typical bear, but few whom to turn to or would even much care. So I sit here and wait for a reprieve long coming; in the meantime I submerge into soppy old humming. A drone? Yes. An exercise? Maybe. A release? Not yet likely.
| | |
| And in a flash, the words splashed across the screen sapped
almost all of what was left of his promise.
In spite of the fundamental impulses to the contrary, in spite of the prudent
urges to push aside, in spite of the standard path otherwise, he had held true
to his assurance that the interest would not wane, that amity would overcome
pain, and that the heart would not be slain.
Ultimately, it would seem that this was an irresponsible vow, for even
the best of them falter in their own self-image. He was foolish to have believed he was
important enough to stay; he was foolish to have believed his own wounds were of merit. The machine head revealed
this as such, crushing the evening so. As the words faded into darker recesses, his
heart hardened and nothing short of Eros' bow could defrost the wake. | | |
| 63 gone on by 1 ended on high 3 in concourse I lied All right alongside
6 hues on my plan Each looking to gain 2 feed my desire With hopes I do train
But scattered hopes pierce My heart they do 'sault Like mapping E8 Can't seem to mete fault
1050 float away Purged it would seem Of what once lent the gleam 1522 rolled by Reminding of what won't be rid Sink again I did. 45 since More are in sight Soaked was that site The last was not tonight's
| | |
| This whole weekend was spent out of sight from everyone I know. Not counting my floormates and my teammates, I shunned contact from all those I've known and come to know. No one needed to see me in this state of mind, especially on this day.
So what has come out of my little sabbatical? I keep trying to sleep, hoping to find a revelation in some fantastic
dream, but alas, sleep no longer comes easily to me. And even when
that once greatest of pleasures - how I yearn for that freedom of heart
again - finally comes, all it brings are empty teases, both of rest and
peace of mind. As Tantalus must have felt, I keep thinking of how nice it would be to put my head down as far as it can go and slake this persistent lump in the back of my throat. Or how refreshing it would be to leap free from these panging chains and ease my hunger for 'ship. In the deep recesses of my mind, however, I must have known just as Tantalus must have that any outward attempt at this point in time was going to be fruitless, pun fully intended. And so I remain stuck in this Tartarus of mine for a good while longer, lest by miracle and seemingly no less a single door and no more opens and I'm able to escape back into that place in the sun.
For the moment, though, I do wonder what has been up with the people I've come to really enjoy here at HKU. I wouldn't presume to have occupied too much thought and I don't believe I have, but the notice caught me by surprise all the less. I hope that I can just pick up where I left off, for I'm far from the only one with outstanding concerns. It may have only been a few weeks, but I already feel as if I won't be able to help but keep in touch with some of these people even once this awesome experience is over. Yes, studying abroad itself has been everything I could have hoped for and more; the overall experience has been more gainful than I might have imagined. I can't even begin to think what it'll be like to have to leave. Then again, here, I didn't even begin to think what it'd be like to have to leave.
| | |
| Lying here in the dark, almost two hours have passed without any hint of sleep to come. These times of insomnia bearable used to be bearable with...
On the one hand, the past few days have thrown off what circadian rhythm I once had. Without sinking into detailed account, I have not found a single dull moment in these past few days which I suppose is just as well. This stretch of time has in fact melded itself into a big chunk of one fun time after another. For all the people who have made that possible I am grateful for, even if it is for a reason that they don't quite construe. For me, these times have been quite liberating, if for nothing else but those fleeting moments of company.
It's the times when I'm alone or the circumstantial settings I'm in that remind me just how far removed I am from any sense of complete liberation. Piers that we walked once. Sights we discussed once. Moments we might've shared once. All of these thoughts swim through my head, both in consciousness and in sleep. Walking the ferry pier at Tsim Sha Tsui the other night, the skyline was surely a sight to see and for that matter, so might I have been. I hardly walk the area enough to say for sure, but the sight of attempted catharsis amidst the revelry of the night surely must have been something. And frankly, I didn't care. I didn't care that I was expected elsewhere, and I didn't care for the joyousness in the air. I find it a bit ironic that I was always considered the non-romantic, because an idealist in my mind can be privy to the same excitements and pitfalls as a romantic. But who am I to claim any sort of extensive knowledge of such concepts?
For that matter, I never gave much thought to the concept of recurring dreams until recently. As I am hardly qualified to discourse on them thoroughly, I will not make such an attempt; rather, I will probably end up trying to rationalize them in the copious amounts of alone time I have here in my room for the week. These dreams, these illusions, these wanted harbingers, they all tell the same story to me until I awake in the morning (or afternoon), flush with futile hope that that had all been a reality. Little sleep that I get, I've been going to bed every night lately wondering whether those flashes of tentative happiness will be revisited again. The prospect simultaneously excites me and pains me to anticipate, for its fruition has by all means and purposes been wrested from my control.
The consistent reminders remain free spirits as well, unyoked by any declarative indications. Uninformed comments and queries persist even as I put them off. Was it really so hard to imagine that this was possible? Everywhere around here, scattered emotions of this sort are being cultivated in a show of carpe diem. And yet, I head in reverse.
So, sitting here alone once again, wary of the bluntness of my unconscious compositions, I muse, brood if you will, over the past, present, and future. Was it hasty? Have things worked out as desired? Will the feeling ever come back?
Volleyball practice is in five hours, so that elusive peace as I once called it had better come soon. I miss...
| | |
|