Crying in the Rain: April 2006

Outsider

Isn't it overly romanticized?
The notion of being alone
Always the one brooding.

But in harsh reality
Being alone means
Being an outcast

Not belonging anywhere
It is not as poetic as it seems...
Suffering.

I've lived it all my life
The role of the outcast
The loner
The one standing on the outside
Looking inside.

There is no helping it.
I cannot change.
And for the longest time
I have always wished

That i was not me.

Damn Poor Happy Poem

Happy day
Sunshine
Candy canes

Sweet toothy smiles
And white frosted cupcakes

Ice cream galore
Sugar cones

Playtime and toy day
Friday

Cartoons
Baby pink ribbons
And blue skies

Sparkling water
And wishing wells

Sweet and cold fragrant pears
Violet cotton candies

Peach colored roses
Sunset and sea breeze
Cool moonlight breeze

It makes no sense
But positive is
As positive does.

Death

Nothing matters
Nothing changes
I have tried
To be content
To be thankful...

But it cannot be denied.
I am dead
I walk among the living
Everyone's alive
They smile

But i envy them all
They know not what they have
What their smiles mean
What their laughter means

I envy...
Because I am dead.
Animated though i seem

I am an empty shell
There is no reason at all
To be alive
Only a reason to live.
A reason... that belongs to me not.
But to others whom i owe my existence to.

But me? Woe is me. I am dead.
If not for fear of utter oblivion,
I would not be standing here.
Living in a prison of breathing flesh.

Mimicking the living
As though i could be one of them.

Pretend though i might
People sense what I am
And thus I am shunned.
Unliked.
Unloved.

Fear not. I feel no hatred towards you.

It is intangible, your discomfort around me.
But I will tell you what you cannot understand.
You sense death. The utter blackhole that surrounds me
The aura and stench of decay.

'Tis a cold day in the land of my soul
Albeit the blistering summer heat in the real world i revolve in

'Tis sad to be able to understand defeat.
Unable to raise a fist at a fate that has so left me bereft.
Fighting is irrelevant.
Acceptance... has left me hollow.

It is sad. But the dead has no right to complain.
I howl at the wind.
I howl at my utter uselessness
My incompetence

I howl at my inability to resurrect myself to the living.

Blissful Deliverance

I heard the sickening sound my heart squishing under the squealing of tires.
Heard its mute, desperate cry for help… pumping… pumping…
Try to fight the inevitability of oblivion.
Attempting to run… knowing it can never move.

Still…Damn thing just wouldn’t give up
With its last thump
It wouldn’t let go
Unable to accept rest
Unwilling to see the relief that only death could bring.

What a stupid small thing… the heart… my heart
Existing solely for the joy of others
Unselfish
A puritan martyr

And my soul… awaits the merciful hands of death
My poor, tired soul… trying to reason with my stubborn heart.

“Let’s make it easy on ourselves. Let’s not fight a useless fight.”

But the heart wouldn’t see. It is blind.
Wouldn’t listen. It is deaf.
Wouldn’t run. It has no legs.
Its impotency is quite frustrating.

But no matter how hard it fought. How desperately it struggled…
The wheel of fortune, in its cold, uncaring superiority
Ran ruthlessly through my heart…
Ultimately bringing silence and blissful deliverance.

April 12, 2006 2:05 pm

Stone

Nothing touches me… nothing moves me.
I am stone. I am apathetic to your petty advances.

I have been educated with your ways.
And learned through the hard way.
Now, I merely tire of the game.

The never ending chase
The efforts spent on nothing
It leads nowhere.

Can you melt me?
Can you woo me?
Can you lead me back to the land of the living?

I pray for you.
I long for you.
I need you.

My plea rings hollow
Humiliating in its naked honesty
Its nude naivete
Its stark stupidity.

Why the hell should anyone listen?

So I beg not at all.
No one would care.
My issues are my own.

I carry them.
My badge of honor
Scarred from war

I stand alone.

Defeated.
Bruised...

But I live. And in the end…
The only thing that matters is surviving.

Thus I continue to exist… at a high price
I’ve traded my heart for stone.

And so my story goes…

Nothing touches me… nothing moves me.
I am stone. I am apathetic to your petty advances…

April 12, 2006 1:25pm

---------July Baby--------

(Note: I just copied this from an email. One of those horoscope
-tell me who you are by your zodiac kinda thingy- so i take no credit in this. )

Fun to be with. Secretive. Difficult to fathom and to be understood.
Quiet unless excited or tensed.
Takes pride in oneself. Has reputation. Easily consoled. Honest.
Concerned about people's feelings. Tactful. Friendly. Approachable.
Emotional temperamental and unpredictable.
Moody and easily hurt. Witty and sparkly. spazzy at times.
Not revengeful. Forgiving but never forgets.
dislikes nonsensical and unnecessary things.
Guides others physically and mentally.
Sensitive and forms impressions carefully.
Caring and loving.
Treats others equally.
Strong sense of sympathy.
Wary and sharp.
Judges people through observations. Hardworking.
No difficulties in studying.
Loves to be alone.
Always broods about the past and the old friends.
Waits for friends.
Never looks for friends.
Not aggressive unless provoked .
Loves to be loved.
Easily hurt but takes long to recover.

Sorrow of the Soul

Days... merging into weeks... weeks into months... months into years
Aging... aging...
What does it mean? I've remained the same.
But my soul is rooted in a place i could not call the present.

I live, I breathe, I walk.
But what does it mean? Living... I'm nowhere...
Nowhere else to go. None to look forward to.

The monotony has eaten me...
Such a whiner... why complain?
I have everything.

Still... that's where my humanity has led me.