Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Porcelain Pieces




As I sat there sipping my Hojicha Latte and my Moleskin in front of me, my thoughts caught me by surprise. Are the hormones working their sorcery again? Or perhaps, it's just one of my dull periods. Or maybe, it's my need for real change.



The ghosts of my past are catching up on me, I guess I never really dealt with them. I've always only known how to let it all pass, wait around for things to get better and then me. Am I even supposed to deal with them... How does that even work? Valid question. Because I draw a blank.




I guess I could live these ghosts. It's pretty much like tangled earphones, the wires are knotted but the music comes out fine. The thing about this, it's an eye sore, and the wires get shorter. The same way these spectres are pricks in my mind's eye, hindering me so very often as I bleed stepping on them.




I always unravel those knotted wires.





Can it work the same way for life? The past in particular. I don't fancy these punctures and there's never a clean start. They say if you have a problem, find a solution and deal with the hiccup. Somebody teach me how.





Bri says I'm amazing, that each time I leave without regrets because I gave my best, and despite the umpteen times, I have yet to raise the white flag. But hearts do get weary, such arduous journeys are only thread for love. My fangs are only bared in silence, when I'm hurt by the keepers. This ability to love, could very well be my downfall. This absurd trait of appreciating even the most obscure of doings , could very well serve my greatest dish of pain. I sometimes wonder why God put so much love in me.





It is what has made me walk the plank, with eyes opened, yet kept me from plunging to the icy cold abyss. It doesn't make sense.





I find a sudden hate for those who have scalded me and left me scarred, but wounds never stay open. Could I have done without those lessons? Mash a porcelain to pieces and try as you might to fix it, it would always be imperfect. Yet that is what makes it unique, one like no other, not even a seamless replica. All it needs is someone to see the beauty in those cracks... and it could be housed upon a pedestal.






" Let me be patient, let me be kind.
Make me unselfish, without being blind.
I may have faith to make mountains fall.
But if I lack love, then I am nothing at all. "





I shall stop here, lest I break out in tears. The faces of the past, and the rare few for life with their ugly masks on, are a tad too taunting. Everything happens for a reason, one day all these will make sense to me.





Goodnight, 6.30am.








No comments:

Post a Comment