Weird may be the proper term. What else would you describe the feeling of wanting when the feeling of hurting meddles my intention of reconciling even though hating may possibly interfere my main objective of connecting? I know “hating” is such a strong word but I can’t think of any alternative yet. That’s why it is just so weird. Living in this world of silence, contemplating on decisions which often contradict the next, is so exasperating that one has to resolve on burning bridges for the sole reason of getting away from the core problem. Or so I thought.
Those who are affected with the intentional (or maybe unconsciously/unintentionally?) burning execution are now in distraught or, perhaps, trapped in an unexpected downer-paranoia. I cannot blame them to feel that way—because they do not know, they do not understand. Then consequently, though they’re not really the main concern of setting the records straight, they would be deeply hurt because they often feel betrayed and backstabbed.
Spoken statements and accomplished actions, no matter how discreetly and stealthily they’re performed, still reach the knowledge of the object of discussion. This is true; no one can get away from that matter. The plan of explaining becomes harder, too, because it goes back to that weird enigmatic feeling of being incomprehensible. Almost everyone says that there’s a concrete explanation to all things but they do not know that this concrete explanation is just as hard to get as to learning how to tie shoelaces when one has amnesia.
Again, it is just weird. I guess I have already fully internalized my dreams of becoming a poet. As what Kahlil Gibran said, “…poets are unhappy people, for, no matter how high their spirits reach, they will still be enclosed in an envelope of tears.” Sigh, I must have fallen once again into one of the trenches explored by many but unfathomable by the inexperienced. I'm sorry.
(for AE)
Those who are affected with the intentional (or maybe unconsciously/unintentionally?) burning execution are now in distraught or, perhaps, trapped in an unexpected downer-paranoia. I cannot blame them to feel that way—because they do not know, they do not understand. Then consequently, though they’re not really the main concern of setting the records straight, they would be deeply hurt because they often feel betrayed and backstabbed.
Spoken statements and accomplished actions, no matter how discreetly and stealthily they’re performed, still reach the knowledge of the object of discussion. This is true; no one can get away from that matter. The plan of explaining becomes harder, too, because it goes back to that weird enigmatic feeling of being incomprehensible. Almost everyone says that there’s a concrete explanation to all things but they do not know that this concrete explanation is just as hard to get as to learning how to tie shoelaces when one has amnesia.
Again, it is just weird. I guess I have already fully internalized my dreams of becoming a poet. As what Kahlil Gibran said, “…poets are unhappy people, for, no matter how high their spirits reach, they will still be enclosed in an envelope of tears.” Sigh, I must have fallen once again into one of the trenches explored by many but unfathomable by the inexperienced. I'm sorry.
(for AE)
4 comments:
right now i'm singing (in a very beautiful soulful voice, ehem!): "you bleed just to know you're alive!!!" hahaha!
but really, sometimes, when things could never go back to the way they are before and it just keeps getting worst, burning bridges would be a necessity! :)
*hug* *hug* *hug*
i'll always be here. :)
You're right Spring. But you know what, I'm still thinking of what I did. Yay, I hate this fickle and shaky mind of mine!
Thanks Anna. Well, you better show up before you leave the country. We will miss you.
Hi all. How are you?
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