Mistakes
I’ve been listening to Staind's song So Far Away the whole day. Given the obvious fact that Aaron Lewis' singing voice is painstakingly perfect for this song, my favorite part is the chorus when he sings, “All the mistakes, one life contained, they all finally start to go away”.
Wish I could just fast forward to a time when I would be able to sing this with heart. Right now it’s all just a lingering
hope, a far-away dream, a grieving fantasy.
Trusting a wolf in sheep's clothing is the first mistake that I want to go away.
Luna
The moon is hanging outside my window right now. I
remember having written a poem about it a few months ago. I called it Luna. I called it the light of all lights. I called it lovely and
mysterious and soulful and yet, and yet…why are you so beautiful up there like
that, yet so lonely, like you wanted me to cry for you?
I look at it now but with a fractured light, remembering
things I’m not supposed to remember. I had made the mistake of sharing such a tender,
fragile, intimate metaphor as the moon with someone who only saw it as a yellow
light. Luna, I tell you, after all this time, it was always only us. Always only just us.
Hi, My Name Is Time
Yesterday I was having an intimate dinner with three
friends at a far, tucked away home-slash-restaurant with a royal blue gate. Pretending
(yet ostentatiously failing at it) that it was not about me, one of my friends gamely
told a story of a broken-hearted girl and the many characters which repeatedly rejected her after her heart was smashed
into smithereens, namely: beauty, happiness and sadness. In the end, after
quite a while, the girl finally found solace and peace in the island of a
mysterious man who in the story whose name is revealed to be “Time”. The end.
Morale of the story which we tried so hard to pretend was not mine: only time heals all wounds.
It’s a cliché but it’s true for those who really needed
it. I find it somehow gratifying that even though my friend found some humor in
my situation, he was one of the very few who injected in me words that I needed
to hear when all I could think of are those that really hurt: deceit, pretense, used, forget, regret,
doubt, mistake, hate. Even the word trust
now hurts. Even the word hope. Even
the word love.
The Word Sorry
Even the word sorry
is sorry it ever became a word in any language in the world to permit and
subsequently pardon us our wrongdoings. People make up words for everything
just to be convenient.
But when will we learn that there never has to be a
word for everything? Especially sorry.
Especially sorry.
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