Packing up.

So I've decided to move, after what, 4 years? 5 years? My gosh, this has to be my longest commitment ever. Truth is, I'm tired of this place, I need somewhere new to breathe, some change, maybe that will do me good. Doesn't matter really, the point is, I'm gone from here. For good.

http://theblackcrayon.wordpress.com

Goodbye!

High & Dry.

I remembered I once told someone that I loved this time of the day whenever I'm at home, where the skies are just.. blue. My kind of blue. Dreary, depressing, blue. And everything around is either black or blue. Today, away from all the mayhem in the world outside, I managed to catch that moment. Obviously I was supposed to be doing some sort of work or another, but I decided to lie down and be at peace with myself and the world for a while. Before promptly falling asleep, that is. Lately I've just been sleeping anywhere and everywhere and refusing to admit that I am tired as hell. But that's another story altogether. Anyway, I'm too impatient a photographer to take any better pictures, so pardon me, the world will have to make do with this one.

Tomorrow is Sunday, and Sunday is for rest, relaxation, enjoyment... But it still seems like the madness never ends. Thank god for Radiohead, Lifehouse, Damien Rice, and all the producers of subjectively good music in the world. I was listening to a few songs just now, and somehow, I miss everyone that saw me through my first year, everyone that graduated, everyone that left due to personal reasons. I miss all the good times we had, when I was careless and free and unencumbered by the burden of responsibility, when we were careless and free and recklessly faithful to one another. We were newbies, but we just believed. It's one of those times when it all just comes back, you know? Hang in there, Rhys, hang in there. ):

On a brighter note, part of me seems to be relatively pleased with my sudden coherence. My friends, these words, they are back again! I feel... more like myself than I ever had in a long time. (:

Imbroglio.

So yesterday night was quite an occasion for me because I finally got around to doing the normal adolescent thing of oversleeping and missing my stop. Finally, after almost two decades! And there I was grumbling euphorically to myself at the interchange close to midnight. It was a very "Whoopjoy! Welcome to conformist society, Rhys! Normalcy +20 +20! DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT YOU DUMBASS. I AM SO TIRED. I WANT TO SLEEP. FUCK THE WORLD." kind of moment. I was looking for somebody or anybody to share my apparent joy with but it seems that nobody's not talking to me so I ended up with everybody and anybody, somebody and someone, anyone and every damn one. Funny how it all goes around. So here I am typing this down, I don't remember ever typing stuff like this down, the characterless events of my mundane days. Who really cares about what goes on in a day? It's your day, it's my day, some people die, some people live to see another day. Or I could say "A DAY IS JUST A DAY. ROLLS EYES." Actually no, I'm kidding. A day is my day, your day, everyone's day, a day is a good day we live life and love. And sometimes fight. But a day is as good as you want it to be. Oh, there I go again. Digressing. Today is another day. Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Today... I saw you smile.

What a mess, what a mess.
I think in the end I'm just sorry there's not enough trust to go around for that to happen. I couldn't make you see it.

Otherwise, sanity is on the cards, because (refer to sentence #19) (I hope I counted it right.) Ah, weakness. Stupid, I know. Somebody whack me with a frying pan. Paddle also can. You have every right to.


_{After all this time, I never thought we'd be here
Never thought we'd be here, where my love for you is blind
But I couldn't make you see it, couldn't make you see it
That I loved you more than you'll ever know.}

Trust.

Ever get caught in a situation where there are just so many thoughts swimming in your head, so many words to say, but in reality there are only those few lines they need to hear? The rest is all just bullshit. When you filter out all the self-defensive junk, the instinctive blame game, the angry words, when you peel all that crap off layer by layer, when you reach the most vulnerable core, the blatant truth, where there are is no pretense, no lies, no disguise. What do you do with it?

"It’s not about who did wrong or what went wrong, what wasn’t done or what was done." - Carrie

Thank you for being so nice about it. Thank you for all the good times that I forgot. Thank you for the comradeship. Thank you for teaching me my responsibilities. Have fun at your stupid hotel. I hope you turn gay, you beer monster.

So I guess maybe this is life, you win some, you lose some.

I am human, I am flawed, I am reckless and free and unstoppable. More than the average human perhaps. I scraped my knees but I'm not bleeding, and I can't expect anyone to understand that. Difficult. But it all goes around somehow.

Besides, nobody cares about the truth when we're all living our own little lies.

And I can't make anyone see because they don't have my eyes.

Careless.

And I heard myself whisper,

"We are dreamers, we are flawed, we are reckless and free and unstoppable."