I Waited

I waited.
Breath bated.
For a bait.
A bed.
Feelings that fail to abate. 
Only exacerbate.
I waited.
In vain.

Absence

It has been a while. Revisiting the blog is like looking back fondly on a dusty diary.  Snap shots of thoughts, emotions and events captured in individual entries. For some, a reflection of events even further back in time.

Memories otherwise obscured or confined to the deep dark depths of subconsciousness. Silent and forgotten until roused from the brief intrusion of rememberance, they rise to the surface before slipping back to slumbler beneath the dark placid waters.

One feels almost apologetic.  An intruder in a graveyard of memories. But in what manner? As if to remember, reminisce or observe would somehow tarnish the clarity of the memories themselves. The greatest injury being the inadvertent distortion of such memories, events and emotions. That by their frequent recollection,  they become subtly but inexorably corrupted in their disturbed retrieval, oxidising in the corrosive air of current perception. A minor embellishment,  a harmless omission and the indefagible force of imperfect rememberance.

There is much to commend about the purity of memories preserved. Crystal and clear. But memories perfectly preserved are those perfectly forgotten, irretrievable at will and only discovered by chance. Fossils in the sands of time. And what joy brings buried treasure when the map is lost and the treasure forgotten?

Better a quiet and unobtrusive rememberance.  To recall and reflect then to leave with thanks.

The memories themselves are unassuming and care not if one remembers or not. The past has no patience for the presence. It need not for the present has no place in the past. They exist independent of one's desire to reflect, regret or respect.

So it shall be with the memories enshrined herein. Visited, remembered and perhaps once in a while a new event encapsulated.

Absence is not a cause for regret.

Words

Take the words
Chew them up 

Wet with scorn.

Spit them back
Black with dread
Covered in webs.

Words mangled 

I lie here entangled.

Seasons.

Spring

Shoots burst forth from frost
Scent of crisp green growth abound
Birth pangs morning brings.

Summer

In dreams they whisper
Tales of old all gone bitter
Parched like sun scorched ground

Autumn

Flowers in the wind
Cascade in billowing streams
Rippling coloured hues.

Winter

Lances of ice pierce true
Blood blossoms red staining snow
See how my heart bleeds

Drugged

Your love, my Dear is like a drug.
Sweet, syrupy, sometimes abrupt.
Dark with meaning, Light with candour.

The companionable silences,
comfortable counterparts to the exuberant exchanges that follow.

Like butter on toast, a rose to my nose.
Tell me darling whenceforth I should go.
For your arms my love, are inviting me so.

Rain

I look out. At the rain.
A fine mist coalescing into a shower of silver needles.

Sharp and slanted into the wind. 

Before exploding in wet demise. Silver shards on the black asphalt .
As tongues of lightning fork across the sky. 

Brilliant flashes rending the black canvas of night.
Amidst the lazy drawl of thunder. 

And the symbolism is not lost on me.
Of you and I.
And the dance we dance, to a tune only we hear.
But for now all I think.
Is of my bed and how good it'd be.
As it rains.
And so I shall.

Salut

Looking back on the previous posts, an inexorable truth comes to mind. As the years pass, I post less.

Not out of any conscious effort to abstain from doing so. In fact, the opposite may probably be so. A general sense of lethargy, the mind numbing impact of work and the simple dearth of desire would probably explain the silence.

I've always believed blogging should be cathartic. The freedom to say what you want, when you want within the usual confines of the law etc etc. Which we all know as far as our little red dot is concerned covers the usual taboo areas of politics, race and to a smaller extent religion. None of which interest me much.

Life's too serious and tedious with work and mundane, nagging problems like what to have for lunch or when your stupid ass bills are due to be concerned/ want to be concerned about the above. But the general lack of impetus to blog or the need to discuss, rant or muse has played a part. Not to mention the instant gratification of other social media platforms like FaceBook or Path for a quick, dumbed down version of a rant or muse. Not quite as substantive and cathartic as a leisurely, measured blog post but instant. Much like a quickie, instant release then swiftly forgotten.

Which in some ways mirrors the current state of affairs in my personal life. We all want to settle down, to find that special someone to share your life with. But things can never be rushed and if you know that guy you're seeing now or you previously had the hots for is uncommitted or simply incompatible, be merciful. Remove that tumor of doubt, he's never going to commit. You'll never be compatible. Save yourself and him the time and trouble of a failed courtship or the inevitable emotional roller coaster ride that accompanies such courtships.

Carnal creatures as we are, our gut instincts honed over milennia of assessing suitable mates (be it purely for physical release or something more substantial) are often perversely right on the basest most primal levels of attraction.

I've been partying hard. More so than I have for quite while. Done a few bat shit crazy ass stuff. Made quite a few new yet steadfast friends. Kindred souls with a knack for fun in the company of like minded individuals without the inclination or need to judge. Sometimes, I'm tired of engaging intellectual conversations or clever ripostes. Sometimes, I just want to be a dumb bitch, laugh at stupid things and have a good time. At the end of the day, it's the company and the friends and principles you stand by that count.

Settling down is still the goal but like all good things it can't be forced or rushed. I'm tired of guys who can't commit, give excuses for their failings. Whackos who chase with a single minded vengeance then go berserk when you tell them that getting to know each other better may be a better idea than attempting to get into your pants (which to be fair is still an enjoyable idea sometimes). Exes who message that they miss you and have as much EQ and empathy as a sociopath.

Is it that hard to find a decent guy? For now, I'm happy with friends and stuff I enjoy. Won't say no to the occasional hot fuck though ;)

Leave ya with Lights by Ellie Goulding. 33 weeks and still No. 2 on the charts. Don't forget to turn the lights off when you're done. ;)

"Lights"

I had a way then losing it all on my own
I had a heart then but the queen has been overthrown
And I'm not sleeping now the dark is too hard to beat
And I'm not keeping now the strength I need to push me

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine It when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone

'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine It when I'm alone

Home

Noises, I play within my head
Touch my own skin and hope that I'm still breathing
And I think back to when my brother and my sister slept
In an unlocked place the only time I feel safe

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone

'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone

Home

Yeah, hee

Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone

'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I'm alone

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

Home, home
Light, lights, lights, lights
Light, lights, lights, lights

I Dreamt.

I dreamt of dreams without doors
Of love without wars.

That we could belong
In some place together for long

Of conversations without qualifications 
Of expectations without recriminations

That we talk as we walk

Only to find you stopped the talk
Much less walked the talk.

And I remain. Alone in my dream.
For some dreams are best left unshared.

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.

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.

SMD. 'K?

The evolution of a failed relationship - in three Letters.

Sell me Dreams;

Shake me Dizzy;

Suck my Dick;

Suck me Dry; then

See me Die.

Lies of the sky.

Do not lie,
when you talk of things that fly,
And jewels in the sky.

For in my mind's eye,
all I see are men that squirm beneath pewtered wings of vacuous glory,
And stagger with vapid smiles and fevered brows.

To where they do not know,
only to find what they do not seek.
As the world shudders with every step we take.

Fallen

I love your honesty, when you look at me with eyes that glow like liquid onyx, the purse of your lips tight and unyielding. The words unspoken, yet elucidated in every shiver you make, the nonchalant puffs you take.

I muse over your quizzical regard, the cock of your head. The remarks you make and the punishing speed of your gait. I ponder, dissect, dissemble, reconstruct every statement you make. To fathom your thoughts and the ticks that make you tock. Till I hear your raucous laugh and see your impish face.

I love the warm flush of your face, the rough crush of your embrace. Wreathed in smoky musk, your gentle probes, tentative, like in a daze.

I like that you will spare this post nary a thought. Perhaps grace it with a little snort. Like ballast to my heady helium, the Sun to Icarus. For I have already fallen, fallen for you.

Care

Sometimes I sit and stare and wonder why you care.
About the little trifles and idiocies you feel you bear.
Then I remember you are you and I am me.
That the things we hear while same, may differently wear.
And that really I shouldn't care.

Primordial feelings

Feelings. Because the basest, unrationalised ones are often truest.

I hate the smell of rain on hot asphalt. The warm dusty musk of wet earth released mingling with the stench of hot tar. The barely perceptible little oodles of steam that rise as the rain slaps the pockmarked road. A noxious assault on the senses.

I detest cowards who lie because they have no sense of self. Liars who lie as if breathing and for whom deception is a way of life. Words rendered meaningless by virtue of the fact that the liar neither means what he says nor speaks the truth at all. The only thing worse than a liar is a stupid liar.

I abhor the way you cry. Your crumpled face, noh like mask with rivulets of tears as you wring your hands and weep. Reeking of sweat and the stench of your breath. The way you seek to justify the unjustifiable, your horrendous volatility, the madness that vacillates from simpering unsought for servitude to acrimonious accusations and unfettered drama. So weak, so self-serving, so delusional. So fucking you.

I like the feel of soft satin. The silky smooth caress of light sheets on the bed. To snuggle under the covers as the storm rages outside. The crashing thunder and snaking tongues of lightning, accompaniment to the din of the falling rain. A lulling symphony of sorts.

I appreciate my friends. The warmth, concern, camaraderie and support. The company of friends and the shared experiences, the joys of interaction and sharing the burdens of problems a source of strength and pride. Poor is the man without friends.

I love the simple things in life and its little comforts. The hedonistic allure of carnal comforts, good food, quite a bit of self pampering. The thrill from a sudden but highly satisfactory purchase. Abstinence is unnecessary deprivation. Desire tempered by moderation but always present.

I lust for the warmth of another guy's embrace. The intimacy afforded from curling up beside another, hot, hard and lean. Passionate kisses and frenzied foreplay. Skin on skin, entwined in sweaty embrace till the climatic finish.

Sometimes, I long for the company of another man. Compatible, communicative and one I'm comfortable with. To love, hold and fuck ( not necessarily in that order) Someone I'd not regret or dread at the end of the day. Now is that so hard...?

Time

Time is a paradox. Not the concept (and I'm not talking about the mechanics of time), that is easy enough to grasp. The inexorable march of Time, that Time and tide wait for no man or inanimate object for that matter. The physical impact of Time and its inescapable effect on the material universe is a reality we come to comprehend and accept (to varying degrees) early on in life.

Rather, it is the impact or effect of Time on the intangible things of life such as relationships and love wherein Time is an enigma, a paradox. It is this enigmatic allure of Time that spawns the myriad phrases, idioms, nuggets of wisdom about Time that we are familiar with. For Man is always fascinated by what we cannot comprehend and we seek to define what we do not understand in the hope that by setting certain parameters, by making observations about the few applicable truisms; we are able to impose a clear definition on what is essentially undefinable. Much like the proverbial shoving of a round peg into a square hole.

Yet we draw what comfort we can from our paltry definitions, making the best we can of our observations of the duality of the impact of Time on the intangible things in life that are dear to us. What is Time? Seconds extending into minutes into hours into days into weeks, into years. A continuum of reality that goes ever forward, never backward (at least not yet). What is the effect of Time? There is no satisfactory, all conclusive or remotely acceptable answer.

Take the impact of Time on relationships. We have oft heard of the tongue-in-cheek phrase that "Time is a great healer but a terrible beautician". Time may be a salve to soothe and heal the raw wounds inflicted by an unpleasant breakup or altercation. A convenient amnesia fickle in its embrace or a carefully constructed defence elaborate in deception, tough on the exterior, brittle within. I would think a genuine healing and acceptance of sorts would only be achieved if the parties involved have come to terms with the reality of the situation, are fully apprised of all the relevant issues and reached a tacit understanding on their respective positions and the need to move on.

Yet Time can exacerbate the distance in a relationship or friendship, can deepen the misunderstanding, the animosity and ultimately the indifference. For issues left unresolved or untreated, the failure to discuss or communicate with a view towards sincerely resolving the issue(s) is like glossing over an untreated wound. Which slowly but surely festers and poisons the entire relationship. Time and tide wait for no man or relationship, friendship or otherwise, soured by unresolved issues, poisoned by insincerity, destroyed by apathy.

Time the great ravager of men's ambitions, destroyer of great monuments, grandiose cities erected by men to last through time. But Time has the last laugh as citadels crumble, civilizations collapse, their claim to grandeur and all memory lost with the shifting sands of Time. Time that exalts, propagates and celebrates the greatness of individuals, concepts, ideas and religion. Time that deifies, reveres and exalts the formerly mundane.

Time is a fickle master that promises much but guarantees nothing. Time's only predictability is its very existence and relentless onslaught. Still we live our lives ordered by Time, resigned to its governance, cognizant of its paradoxical effects, fascinated by the enigma. As Dion Boucicault aptly noted, "Men talk of killing Time, while Time quietly kills them." Indeed, the same way Time quietly kills relationships plagued by unresolved issues compounded by a lack of sincere communication and poisoned by indifference.




Widor's Toccata from Symphony No 5 has always been to me akin to what I would imagine the relentless flow of time to sound like. This is one of the better versions. Like a vivacious burbling stream, constantly surging ahead, steady and triumphant. After all, it is Time and time is on its side.

Let me count the ways you astound me..

I've never liked to wash dirty linen in public. While the act of bitching and ranting used to (and may on occasion be) a cathartic release, I've come to the realization that as the years go by, it's often better to forgive and forget. To learn, accept and observe. Then react as the situation calls for it. However since you've rejected all reasonable attempts at communication and closed all avenues of communication, I shall state my position here and the facts supported by incontrovertible evidence. I have no doubt you'll read it. You always do and by your admission, the ability to know more about others while disclosing as little information about yourself is highly attractive.

So let me recount the ways you astound me albeit unpleasantly.

First was the salvo fired without warning or any prior indication last Wednesday. Shortly before BBall. The allegation? Big mouth. Ok fine, we've always had that perception in the now fractured Gang that I liked to share information (which has i suppose always been a trait since I share stuff freely too, we're friends after all or so I thought). Some say too freely. I admit I was a little miffed at first but that was eons ago and I soon came to accept the concept that people's perception of an individual is not something easily changed. If I'm fine with it and have a clear conscience, so be it, I can live with that.

So that was fine. I have been for the longest time. So alright, the allegation, big mouth. I asked, very nicely for particulars. A simple request, what was it I allegedly said and to who so that I could explain and apologise where necessary. In your usual brusque manner when pissed, you said forget it. Added another salvo along the lines that I should think sometimes before I say but knowing me it's difficult. Then inexplicably, adamantly refused to give more particulars. I repeated the same a second time to no avail.

Even a criminal needs to know what he's charged with before he can opt to claim trial or plead guilty. Particulars of a charge must be given especially when you fire the first salvo. Let alone for friends. But no, none was forthcoming. I even explained that I felt 'gaowei' (ie: very uncomfortable) if you refused to even say what the alleged offending disclosure was because I'd always feel it's unresolved. On a big picture perspective, it was worrying because If friends are angry with each other and annoyed, the very least they can do is to talk it through if the issue is a real problem.

If it's just a minor infraction that causes annoyance, we usually just overlook it or put it down to the idiosyncrasies of the person. However if you blast the person and obviously feel it's a big issue, you address it. You give details and expect a solution. Not just fire a salvo and arbitrarily decide that you've 'settled' it without any communication with the person and leave him/her reeling from the bizarreness of it all. So if this cannot be resolved what is to stop a similar situation from happening in the future? And that in turn calls into question the strength of the friendship or perhaps its very existence.

Yet, I still went for Bball even though you conveniently compartmentalised it as exercise (sorry it's a social activity to me and until this crazy ridiculous issue is resolved (if ever) don't bother even asking me for bball) because I'd already promised to go And a friend was coming along.

Cue: Day 2. We had a meeting scheduled the next morning. We'd discussed about the matter, preliminary issues, deposit required and things to take note of before the meeting. So I emailed you the next morning, to ascertain whether you would be attending the meeting. Because personal issues aside, work is work. You've said so yourself and I presumed it true. You said No. I replied to say Ok, I'll attend the meeting and update you then. Then the shocker: No, what I meant was I'll attend the meeting myself. You don't need to waste your time. Just pass me the file.

Don't waste my time? Since when was that ever a valid consideration for not attending meetings? There's no way round it. Like it or not that was a stark dismissal. So much for the dichotomy. I tried to engage again. 'Is it about yesterday? Because I really think we should talk about it. But will pass you the file' To which I was rewarded with a curt 'Just pass me the file. Thanks.' In the kind of 'go and die' manner with Thanks added as a sarcastic afterthought.

At the pain of sounding like a dumped ex, I reiterated the need to talk and that I should at least know what the disclosure was even if he wanted to protect the identity of the person, so that I could explain and apologise where necessary. A two paragraph email. Dismissed in 3 lines: No need. I know what to do. Thanks.

Thanks?? You may know what to do but I don't. Because I sure as hell felt/feel damn uncomfortable. You do not fire a salvo, leave it hanging, refuse to even give particulars of the offending incident, act all weird at work (I don't care about the taking back of the file really, just so much for the dichotomy) and arbitrarily decide that you have resolved the issue when you don't even communicate at all. If you decide to resolve it on your own, you shouldnt even have raised the issue in the first place.

So because I was uncomfortable ( and I explicitly told you at least twice) I kept all social activities including but not limited to lunch to a minimum until you felt like talking about it. I just put it down to the fact that you were annoyed and might have needed sometime to cool off. Though it did bug me that if you could send long lengthy emails to another friend whom you declared you were 'unfriend-ing' to explain your position, why was it the case you couldn't even bother to tell me what it was that I allegedly disclosed which you found so offensive. But whatever.

So I was uncomfortable and avoided contact. I was puzzled and genuinely bewildered because till today I have no idea what it was that pissed you off. I WAS NOT ANGRY. What was just as puzzling if not more so was the inexplicable fact that a female colleague, a new addition to the grp I guess, suddenly started ignoring me. Even a simple Hi, was greeted with sullen stares and a frosty face that would freeze a polar bear. It was perplexing and unpleasant. My discomfort was only with you. This inexplicable attitude on her part was (and still is) a mystery. I can only hope that you had no hand in it. Even a casual email to the said frosty female enquiring if anything was wrong was rewarded with deafening silence. Not even the courtesy of a reply.

Imagine my shock, utter bewilderment, disappointment when I was informed that 'actually the two of them (you and frosty female) were not angry with me at all. They just thought I have a big mouth. And because of that I am angry. But they will just leave me be' Like HELLO? How much further from the truth can that be? I am seriously at a loss of words. Do you genuinely believe what you foreseeably knew what would be relayed to me? OR was it another half past six attempt at glossing things over. LEt's go through the utter ludicrosity of it all.

1. YOU were pissed. For sure. Wednesday evening all the way till Thursday morning. If you tell me you were not pissed, you know jolly well that's a blatant lie. Sure you may have somehow decided that you aren't pissed NOW. I don't know. But you were pissed THEN. I wasn't angry. I was confused and felt very uncomfortable after you rejected all my attempts to communicate and apologise. Social activities were (and still are) reduced to a minimum.

2.Me being pissed at the big mouth issue is such a retarded reason for the reasons mentioned above. IF I was pissed for that (which I was not and am not) I would have been pissed EONS ago when you and the gang raised it and have stayed pissed. I didn't. Don't drag AA into the picture because then my only unhappiness with her was for the 'trust' issue not LL. But you see the thing about AA and I is that unlike our altercations, we end up being able to communicate and resolve it. Arbitrary decisions is not the way to go for a friendship. Being friends isn't supposed to be a court room battle with the occasional verbal ripostes and parries to see who gets the upper hand.

3. How the fuck did Frosty Female ever get the impression I was angry with her? Like I said my discomfort was with you and you alone. I was fine with Frosty, fine with the Mad one, fine with AA, fine with everyone else. To be visibly snubbed and treated to the occasional glacial face by FF when I had (and still have) no fucking idea how I wronged her is perplexing and not very pleasant.

4. Please this was never a case of me being pissed over some prissy thing just to make me look like a stuck up pompous bitch. I may be a bitch at times but all in good clean fun and never with malice or to tear a person down, much less a friend. Let's frame the situation correctly shall we? I allegedly said something. You got pissed. You fired the first salvo. You refused to say what it is despite my repeated attempts (at least 3) to ask you to tell me so that I could explain and apologise even at the pain of sounding like an utter desperado simply because I thought we were good friends. Or does my gender not even warrant me the courtesy of a proper reply?

FF then ignores me for no reason. Next thing I know everyone's zen, I'm just pissed because they've called me a big mouth (I presume FF's name calling was at a different time from your MSN message) and they won't back down. But because I'm pissed they're leaving me alone for now. Seriously, how warped is that?

I would usually say blogging helps to exorcise the demons within, to release the venom on the metaphorical paper, to bleach it beyond recognition. But this isn't one of those cases. There is no venom to expel, no demons to exorcise. I'm just astounded (unpleasantly), flabbergasted. By the surrealness of it all, the duplicity of natures, the inexplicability of an unexplained situation. The volatility of the eruption, the brittleness of the relationship, the dearth of direct communication. It's sad to think something you would have stood by might not have been there to begin with.

So maybe I should quote a line from Frosty Female's correspondence before she froze, "I don't know what game the two of you are playing, but I don't appreciate being dragged in." I don't know what game this is but I'm not playing. Or as Sister Hazel put it, "You were the one... Who taught me what I don't need And I thank you-I thank you for that. You were the one...That brought me to my senses And I thank you-
Now just leave me alone"

It's sad things turned out this way.

Sister Hazel- Thank You

Delusional

Say I'm hot, you're probably right.
Say you're fat, you probably are.
Say I'm yours, you're probably not.
Say you're upset, you're probably sensitive.
Say I'm sensitive, you're probably rude.
Say I'm rude, you're probably mad.
Say I'm mad, you probably are.


An ode to all the deluded, double standard peeps in denial out there. What would life be without them? A lot better no doubt. But they're here to stay so you might as well figure how they operate and give em a wide berth.

Say I'm bad, you're probably right. lol.