Love is a Sickness

Love is a sickness beyond all others. It makes us stupid, ashamed and dumb. Makes us remain in poisonous relationships, because we simply refuse to believe the will not fail. But they do. What is the hope that people see in this feeble commitment? It is a sickness and should be treated like so. A sickness of the body, a sickness of the mind, a sickness of the soul. Some reckon shock treatment would be required. And say, if you suffer a shock, even a small one, you know your heart skips a beat and the feelings falter. How many shocks it takes to forget someone is determined solely by the intensity of the feelings the couple "cherishes" more like are imprisoned in. When love is no longer a choice, when a person becomes a need. That is when it's gone too far and should be expelled wholly out of the system, no matter what it takes. It will always result on someone suffering, one more than the other. It is a matter of how strong you are to take the first step toward freedom and pull the evil by the root, where it will have no chance to grow or flourish again. Foolish love, sickening. I am tired, gaunt and ragged by being trapped into this curse for this long, and I don't know how I can be persuaded to pursue it further into this depth of anger and misery fed with feeble lies and excuses. I don't want to find anyone else, but I don't want to be where I am lately. 

I might change my mind about this later since this is a particular angry rant due to the fact I am so livid because my fiancee treats me like scum every time one of his friends is around, and leaves me home to wait for him ALL THE TIME, and also partially due to the fact that I am bleeding from the knuckles of my right hand from severe punching of walls and doors that finally splintered and bruised me with proud cuts that I refuse to tend to. I wish this physical pain could distract me from the pains you are causing me every day.

Choice

God only knows what I'd do if I had no remorse. 

I woke up today and wished I had no conscience

no annoying little voice telling me I'm wrong

Then I'd wrench my heart out of your filthy grasp

And mend it on my own

I wished I could do you harm, hurt you more than ever

let you feel the pain inside me, but my heart wonders

How much more I can take before I crack

How much more I can hope before I run away screaming

For freedom, for love, for freedom

To fly once more, to hunt, to live

Outside your greedy hands 

Deceived me, I did

I thought love was the way out

It was the way in to a tight cage of pain and regret

I cannot take the arguing, the anguish

My heart longs to fly again

To be happy at last

The bruises on my knuckles let me not forget

Punching holes in walls once calmed me

now they build up to the amount of pain I wish to cause you

to make you realize, stupid

that ALL I wanted once was to be with you

Grey

Another day, another argument, another struggle, another disappointment, another miserable grey rain. Somehow it seems the more I try to pick myself up the more I fall apart. The more I hold on to some things, the more they squirm out of my grasp. I would give up, and yesterday I nearly did give up on us. We worked out through it, but today I had the feeling I needed to feel like I did yesterday again. Why you treat me like scum, I might never know. I just wish you would stop trying to impress your friends and pretending that you are too "cool" for me while you leave me behind to strut what you think you have. 

If you can't treat me the same way when we are alone and when we are in company, I guess I don't want you to treat me at all. It is always rather confusing to me the way things work in your head, and I can't seem to get through to you. It is always the same mistakes, and I refuse to get used to being miserable because of you. 

Thanks for another rainy grey day.

Cleaning Day

How is it I feel so good every time I set out a "Cleaning Day"? And this particular day can never be pre scheduled, if so I'd ditch it and find some other thing to do. I have to wake up in the mood for it. Today just happened to be one of those days. I woke up, looked around my messy bedroom and had an itch. I was disgusted at how I had let not only my room, but myself, go to that point. I had a reason, though, I had doctors orders to stay in bed and avoid strain and exercise as much as possible so my wisdom teeth "holes" could heal. Anyhow, I know it is no excuse, so I got up, filled a large bucket with a detergent/antibacterial mix, pulled down the bottles of windex, furniture polish and picked out an assortment of old rags, a broom, a mop and a shovel, and got to it. 

AHA, you would think I merely cleaned. That is where you would be mistaken. Having all the cleaning aids at my service, I barricaded myself in my room by putting stuff in front of the door, and opened the wardrobe. Pulling out all the shirts, I refolded them and put them back. Took everything off the hangers and decided to fold the jeans instead of hanging them, thereby leaving lots more space for all my jackets and dresses. Then I moved on to the dreadful shoe rack, where I piled in a bag in the corner all those shoes I no longer use/need, to give them away to charity, and then re-organized them by style. I proceeded to the bags and only then to all my countless books, sketch books and piles of yarn. Then it was cosmetics, makeup and perfumes. Only after I was done with organizing every inch of my room I started the cleaning. It was nearly 10 am by then.

I removed the bed sheets, put them to wash, put all the decorations on my naked bed, and dusted and polished all the shelves (seven), the drawer, the bookshelf, the desk and the nightstand. Then I swept the floor, vacuumed, moped it, moped it again, cleaned the wall to ceiling mirror, windexed the windows and dusted every single decoration before restoring them where they belonged. Oooh, I febreezed the couch, the mattress, the pillows, the cushions and the curtains as well. I felt so dirty after all this cleaning that I drew myself a hot bath, complete with tangerine and green tea oils, scented bubbles and candles. 

I feel so fresh and renewed now that I believe I can start anything in the morning. It is definitely the perfect day to resume my routine of morning yoga followed by chi kung. 

In the end, I guess everything is better without all the clutter. 

Silence

This day was quite different than the day before. Not in respect to me, but the layout of the day in general. Perhaps because there was a dreadful storm, but after it died down, everything was the utmost quiet. As I laid in bed gazing at the ceiling, all I could hear were the noises from inside the house which, strangely, was quiet as it never were. I could hear people's footsteps in the corridor, the faint distant clanking of dishes in the kitchen, some understandable muttering coming from the television in my brother's room, even the cats opening the doors to sneak in. Outside, every once in a while I could hear a car speeding by. Nothing more. At first I thought there was something wrong with my hearing, so I made an extra effort to recognize where the sounds were coming from. Since they were faint and distant, I figured my hearing was just fine. 

I haven't been listening to much music as of late, somehow. I don't feel like it, I guess. Nothing new to my ears, the inspiration from it dies off after such a long time listening to the same tunes. My brand new ipod lays practically new and unused stashed deep inside my bag. And as I lay there listening to nothing, watching the colours of the ceiling change as the sun sets behind a number of grey buildings that hide the horizon, I wish there was something I wanted to listen to. I just lay there, though, dully, not even bothering to get up and turn on the light as my room turns into mere dark shapes. But I do not. I stay put, letting the drowsiness of the silence wash over me. I had forgotten how peaceful the city could be. 

Living, naturally.

I feel slightly stupid every so often for thinking about things that no one cares about, no one else ponders about. Ever. And why do I do that? It is just one of those things that come to you when you are stuck inside for so long. Huh, it is ridiculous after all. I ran out of yarn so I cannot finish the crochet purse I was making, playing blue version pokemon can only entertain one so far and sudoku is getting me cross eyed. S'pose I could be reading, but that is what I have been doing most in this year. Drawing, well, let's just say the inspiration eludes me. Being stuck is a bother. I wish I could've gone training, alas I am still swollen and the skies are painted a wretched shade of purple and gray due to the ongoing storm that has taken up all afternoon so far. The ghastly wails of the wind make me shiver though the windows are shut tight, and watching the cats sleeping lazily nearby only add to the monotony my life has become for a few days.

A little rant

I have often thought that "a new life" was what I needed, but indeed now that I face that very opportunity I dread it. I like the life I live, but perhaps it is necessary that I change a tad. I have been doing pretty much something that I have always wanted to: dedicating my life to training, no school, no work. Yes, when I put it down, it does seem that a change is in place. It is something I love, yet not my dream. In my dream I break the walls of what seems to me to be my plausible reality, creating a new world for me and those around me, not only changing myself. Every change creates a chain of reactions, and so everything changes. 

I guess what I've been trying to say is, why am I dreading the change that I have always wanted to make? To get away from the people that bring me down and don't believe in my potential. I have to focus on my goal, and see this as an opportunity to grow rather that being taken away from the things I love, also because I am going to be with the one that I love the most. I guess I am just afraid, reasonably. 

"Find a happy place" I keep telling myself. I guess I've just been feeling a little "blah" since I am forced to be in bed due to a bad wisdom tooth I removed a couple of days ago... but maybe I can sneak into training tomorrow... hah! Mom would surely find it amusing. I just can't stop counting down the number of days I have left to train! It is driving me mad! And I AM NOT OBSESSED! Damn it. 

Haaaa, feels good to get it all out of my chest like that. Huh. I better go back to what I was doing before I had the urge to spill my anger in words that formed sentences with no specific meaning at all.

Laters!