Juxtaposition

Funny how rearranging a couple of words in a single sentence can convey a meaning so different from its original form. Some times the difference is striking, often it is subtle but upon further analysis no less different. Perhaps sometimes even more, given the subtle but profound nuances that convey shades of meanings not initially revealed at first glance.

Take the phrase 'Nothing with you is forever' and juxtapose that with 'Nothing is forever with you.' At first glance, the former may appear more pleasing to the eye. More grammatically correct. But the two are different, convey different meanings. Subtle changes most clearly seen from the difference in emphasis and the implicit nuances arising from such a swap.

And you realise that the latter is of no less merit than the former. For what is conveyed is different and neither sentence is a perfect replacement for the other.

But not all words and their meanings or combined nuances change in the reshuffled sentence. Most do not. Some in fact are limited by the very nature of the word. After all, how many meanings/inflections can one impute to a word like 'not'? The word 'Nothing' and its meaning remains constant in both sentences.

Nothing with you is forever. That, to my mind at least, emphasises the words 'with you'. Nothing remaining nothing, the nuances and impression conveyed is that 'nothing (I do/feel/think about) with you is forever'. Everything is temporal, transient. Like a passing breeze.

The emotions evoked are one of mild wistfulness, resignation and grudging acceptance of the seeming demise of a futile dream. A negative connotation, realistic, even pragmatic to an extent but sad nonetheless.

Then look at Nothing is forever with you. The emphasis this time to my mind appears to be on 'is forever'. Not to say the term 'with you' is unimportant or secondary. The emphasis is on the terms 'is forever' and the words with you follow after.

Just like the flesh is formless without the bones but fleshes it out and makes it whole, so too does the emphasis set the skeleton for the phrase with 'with you' fully defining the phrase thereafter.

'Nothing is forever' with you. And the nuances conveyed, the impression given is that nothing, the things we do, you say, we think, I feel, we express when with you is forever, constant, unchanging, fixed in stasis. It evolves, grows, changes with time, commitment and our actions. Where and how they will develop is anyone's guess but ours to decide.

We could talk of more permutations. Of how a single comma could paint the phrase a toxic taint of cynicism. (Nothing, is forever with you) Or from further rearrangements, construct an aloof observation (With you, nothing is forever).

But that was never the aim of this soliloquy.

And what's certain is:

Nothing is forever with you. Forever is nothing without you.

Essence of Absence

In absence the sun doesn't shine.
Peals of gold that divulge the paradigm
Of senses garbled blind
Riotous shrieks of colour
That mock the divine

Out of dark does light divide.
Fields which unfold before hungry eyes
Down the myriad hued tiers of paradise
The sun in yellow does arise
In essence, your love, my divine.

Repulsive regret.

Having moved on, I thought the selfish brat of the ex, as the last one shall henceforth be known, would have gone on with his life without a care in the world save for the usual bemoaning of how stupid the world is and the alleged idiots at his work place in particular. Sleep, Self, Work with the occasional Sex thrown in (on his terms) really defined his life. I was wrong.

Apparently Brat was emo the other day, posted some msg on his Facebook stating that he 'was still in love with (you)'. Got a semi excited message from a mutual friend, who meant well I'm sure, God bless her soul, alerting me to the same and proclaiming that she thought he, the Brat, was referring to me. Like I said, I'm sure she meant well knowing how much angst the tumultous relationship and subsequent breakup caused me.

Not that it mattered, he's history and there's very much someone special in the picture now. ^^. But I did message him a friendly message, enquiring which of his paltry past loves he was pining for once again in keeping up with his self-requested wish that we continued to remain friends after the breakup because 'I was a very nice person'. A masquerade that was wearing thin as a result of his idiocy, propensity to block me on whatsapp for no reason whatsoever and generally treat me in a manner you would not treat an acquaintance, let alone a friend.

His reply as usual was retarded. Reticient, bordering on the insolent. A short, curt 'Y u curious?' followed by a dismissive 'No.' and a 'Aiya anyway none of your concern la.' So when I replied with a short terse message that basically went yes it was none of my business but friends just talk in general and if he was going to be a jackass, he could take his so called request for friendship and screw it. That he'd always be single if he wasn't going to change and start thinking about his future partner for a change. And if he still pined for this lover of his, he should go for him but not ever find another as a substitute.

I was rewarded with a single no. 'Nobody no substitute.' And 5 mins later, because often when we were together getting a coherent, non-one word reply from him was often like winning the lottery, he asked 'So wad if I say is you?'. I wanted this sickening man to be honest with his feelings, to say what he could post on facebook but would never be honest about, so I replied 'Dun say wad if, say it if it is and I will tell you'. Fully intending to tell him when he did, that it was too little too late, I'd moved on, found someone who truly appreciated me and that he should seriously think about the other party and not just himself in a relationship.

Of course, I never got to say all that because he inexplicably (well perhaps not surprising thus far given his retarded attitude and behaviour) blocked me that very next minute after that single reply I sent. Which of course cheesed me off no end. I've moved on sure. But seriously wtf?? Such rude, recalcitrant and totally reprehensible conduct is simply mind boggling. And it annoyed me for at least 1/2 a day while on my holiday. Unforgivable.

What do u say to someone too rude to reply, too reluctant to be honest to his own feelings, too ready to give excuses, too random to analyse, too reticient to care, too rigged to lie and ultimately too repulsive to bear?

Nothing. And so I won't.

My only regret now is having wasted 4 months of my life, money, sweat and tears on this repulsive, gutless man who can't even be honest with his feelings and blames everyone but himself, and not moving on earlier. I know I've said before anger is an excellent purgative but a poor restorative. But believe me, right now, purging this Brat out of my life has never felt better.

Rotten to the Core

You weren't very promising to begin with.

Spiky on the outside, hard, unyielding, forbidding.With just the faintest hint of the fragrance within.
A heady, intoxicating mix, at once overpowering yet fragrant. The allure of the flesh therein.
So I tore my flesh from rending that skin, bloodied my hands on those treacherous spikes.
Just because I believed there was something worth the pain within.

Then delving deep inside, through the layers of spike, I saw at last the sought for sight.
Golden, yellow, creamy delight.
But the flesh was more bitter than sweet. It even made me weep.
Yet still I ate, confident that sweeter flesh did await.
But the seed I saw, was black and hollow to the core.

For you repaid trust with deceit, loyalty with disdain, support with scorn.
And I shall never partake of such fruits again.

Soliloquy

"Na" he said. Pushing a large black Mont Blanc paper bag at me without so much as the de riguer niceties. He was almost an hour late, no apologies, no explanations. But this was his SOP, the man I'd dated, the one who proposed and the face I'd addressed as 'Dear' for slightly over 4 months.

An impassive countenance that masked unfathomable thoughts. A face alien in its familiarity.

"Where you wanna go?" he quipped. "Weren't you supposed to have made plans?" I queried, that sinking feeling that often came hard on the heels of one of the many, many lows in our relationship setting in. He had none. "Let's go Orchard." came the monologue. And that was that. It'd always been the case for most of our relationship, him wanting to do something, eat something, watch something at his time, his convenience and of his liking. Inexplicably, I caved most of the time. At the risk of sounding like a corny old romantic, such is the power of love. No other logical reason to explain why an otherwise perfectly rational person (i.e. me) would not have thrown a bitch fit or let him have it as some of the previous ex-es (alas) experienced when they crossed the line.

Tonight was scant difference despite the change in status of the relationship. Apart from the choice of cuisine, everything went according to (his) plan. Dinner venue, dishes ordered, aimless, futile window shopping. Right down to his clockwork smoke breaks. I hated it. Yet I remained an obedient, silent follower to the imposed routine. With nary a thought of protest, a prisoner of my basest, most subliminal emotions. Emotions palpable in intensity, impossible to elucidate yet impossible to ignore. While the seat of reason and thought cries out stridently to abort, reject and terminate. Cries lost in the maelstrom of turbulent sorrow.

While he was at the gents, I sneaked a peak. At the mini complimentary gift card that inevitably accompanies such gifts. "Dear XX" it began.

"Happy Birthday & Best Wishes.

YY"
A cold clinical message in small neat italicized handwriting I always found so at odds with his rough, unpolished even halting manner of speech. No 'love YY', no hint of warmth in that greeting, not even a short explanation or thank you message for the 4 months that had flowed past. The message would have fit right in with the perfunctory well wishes one proffers to a superior, albeit an unpopular one.

My heart sank. But why should it? Why expect anything more from a lover turned stranger who had so flippantly cast aside what he once strenuously declared he'd hold on to? Why remain imprisoned by feelings that would be neither acknowledged nor reciprocated? So many questions, so few answers.

Though this much I know, the physical attraction and desire remains strong. That familiar set of his jaw, the boyish visage, the prominent pecs, the swell of his arms, the soft mound of his slight paunch, the shape of his ass, his swagger and smell all couple to form a heady, irresistible cocktail of desire and deep-seated longing. To hug and to hold. Which I guess is not helping the extraction from this emotional quagmire.

I know it's time to move on. I am desperately willing myself to. I know I deserve better. No need for the cries of the many well-wishing friends to reiterate what I already know. Though I am thankful for their support. But knowing and being able to do so are two very different things indeed. Though that is certainly no excuse. Anger may be harnessed in the process, to facilitate a speedy extraction from this quagmire.

But experience has taught this. Anger is an excellent purgative but a poor restorative. The medicine should not kill the patient. I have cause to be angry, I certainly was angry. But anger will not be the salve to soothe the wounds in the long run. I know I have to move on. It's just a matter of finding the strength and right medicine to do so.

A friend once said, the best way to get over a man is to get under another one. Now if only things were that easy.. heh.