Cheers to all the aaaaggghhh moments! Maybe I’ll write about them someday…
Despite my own mood swings, this made me smile…
“Our life is what our thoughts make it.”
So that makes it crappy, confusing and random?
Sometimes, I wish I could draw. Then, my life would have been artsy. Instead of sitting in front of a blank monitor screen or scrolling mindlessly through “funnies”, I could take up the pencil and doodle out my thoughts.
Words are my only crutch to make sense of the world, though. But the letters seem to have taken root in my brain, deep, refusing to bear fruit. So all I have are vines and tangles; crap that I’m unable to cut through.
Also, not everyone has the balls to call themselves an artist unless they have got the goods to back it up. But every other person seems to be a writer now.
I need to stop being such a scatterbrain…
Like always, the past is in the room with you. Like a shadow. You can’t not notice it.
It sits next to you, legs crossed, looking sharp. Clever. Shadowy. Dazzling. A tinkle of soft laughter here; a grin pasted there. Feet shuffled, legs re-crossed, hair tossed.
The only other noise is the halted, hesitant conversation. More than some silent seconds tick by.
Then you pick up an old joke, out of the blue, and you collectively mold it into something new. It gains more meaning, more worth. The laughter is new, genuine; the pleasure deep, true.
The past realizes its hold is slightly loose. That it is one trick short. Maybe it’s the laughter, maybe it’s the bright aura of the room; maybe it’s the light at the other end of the tunnel. But you can see through the past now. And you see that you can put it behind you.
Like always, the past will be in the room with you. But only like a shadow.
Silence is golden.
Sometimes, it is thick and cold, like the fog settling outside. Filled with the echoes of all that was said and all that was left unsaid. Echoes of hopes, unfulfilled. Echoes of dreams, shattered.
It hangs all around you. It dictates your thoughts. It numbs your senses. Your throat dries up as you choke on the words trying to get out. Your ears ring a little. Your left eye itches. Your right toe twitches.
You can reach out a hand to touch it. Or a finger. But you don’t want to break it.
You only try to drown it with the voice in your head instead. In response, it rears its head and hisses at you.
You get the point: silence is golden. Shhh!
I opened my mouth to scream, both as a warning and in fear but nothing came out.
It was fun for a while but then the scene changed. Drastically. My friend was in danger and there seemed to be nothing I could do about it. Except open my mouth to scream, but nothing would come out.
It was a hoarse whisper at most. No one could hear me. Trying to talk didn’t work. My heart was pounding in my throat and didn’t let me talk. My friend was in danger and I couldn’t even say a word.
At the same time, I was painfully aware that it was only a dream. Only a dream, I told my dream-self. It is only a dream.
Yet the fear was real; very real and very solid. All I managed to do was to run about. I couldn’t scream to call anyone’s attention to my friend’s plight. Or mine…
I did eventually wake up. I just couldn’t scream.
This Friday, nothing was really funny. It was all about how the world is not – or just might! – end. And a busy work day and a three hour traffic jam on the way home can sap even the most sarcastic person.
With 2012 near its end, the time is ripe for lists. Things that you want to do, things you’ve managed to do, things you haven’t managed to do. Movies. Clothes. Technology. Trends. Companies. Et cetera.
My lists will be coming soon. Meanwhile, please enjoy Cracked’s 6 Harsh Truths That Will Make You A Better Person. This is something that you really must read. It brings home truths that you haven’t paid attention to in a while. Read and relearn how to be a surgeon and not just a knife-wielding guy.