Tag Archives: change

CHANGE

(source: joshbenson.com)

 

My Dear

Who is to say the outcome of the argument over change versus regular?

By nature, humans are change-seekers. We get bored easily. This is a strong argument against monogamy. People spend luxuries at restaurants trying out new dishes for the sake of the palate, not the stomach. The intellectually successful ones (not necessarily academic professors) thrive on the thrill of new challenges, and therefore are self-motivated.

But we can’t keep changing our diet. We need a regular schedule if we are to make it early to work/school. Even the saying goes on advising us not to change a winning team. As the mind becomes more complicated, it learns to adopt a tested pattern of thinking/logic. Why become a fool just for fun! We are happy the seasons, day-and-night cycles, and the beautiful breeze of the cool evening are fairly constant blessings we can count on. Change could be quite the pain in the bottom hole –something different from what we usually want in there. But, daily we are pleased even though the constant thing in there is *?&!

Please don’t talk to me about moving on. Don’t tell me it is hard to change, but that once I set my mind to it, and am open to it, then I would have a liberating experience; and maybe a love so much better than yours. This is not just about remaining in my comfort zone, having found someone to give me a sense of romantic security; avoiding the fear of being out in the lonely waters looking for a friend/partner for the rest/end of the world.

Maybe the reason I do not want this change is because it feels so bad. I know we criticize feelings all the time as unreliable, but can’t they be right just once? Is it wrong to feel so easy-at-peace after a favourite delicacy, feel passionate when giving a public speech, feel thrilled when in a craft moving at the speed of light, feel sad because you are no more in my life, or feel sleepy and very welcoming of a warm bed on a freezing night? I move to argue that this feeling is righteous. I dare you to come out of your hiding and respond to my questions. Or, don’t even come. Don’t see this as a cheap trick to get you talking. To get you to feel something. To get you to do anything.

If you want to argue for change, well how about we change my sad-and-miserably-missing-you status?

Maybe. Maybe you have all these sensible reasons in your head about why we should no longer be together. You probably have gone shamelessly far as justifying it as for my own good! Aw com’on! At this rate, I will find myself beginning to resent you. Don’t act the smart ass, because an ass will always be one. Step up to me. Level with me. Let’s have a tete-a-tete.

No. I don’t want to change saying the same good morning greeting everyday, kissing you on the lips, laughing with you, understanding your statements and jokes before you even complete them, hearing about your day everyday, or embracing you for several seconds. Since when has it become a crime to GET USED to someone. If you are such a novelty-seeker, why not take a hike and seek adventure in another universe. Shouldn’t you be tired of seeing same sun every morning or same birds? Why not make an argument for the nuclear bomb events of the past that caused teratogenic effects in the offsprings (resulting in babies with one hand). Look, you can’t win this argument. How can you be with someone for 10 years and not learn a lot about the person? Or, have you two not been honest and plain with yourselves all the while? Stop your fetish for mystery. It is childish. It is for new crushes. Longstanding couples thrive on better things. It’s like you wondering how anyone could ever get tired of candy as a kid, or how a human could enjoy eating vegetable salad or diet coke. Life has yet to hit you! I am not arguing there could/should be nothing new or exciting to look forward to in someone you have known for 5 years; but maybe we should begin to define terms here, just to know how much change is change to you. And here I said I was not going to get resentful!

 

 

P.S. I am a bloody monogamistophile!

ANOTHER SEASON OF LIFE

image

All that happens is change
That’s what defines a life form
Times came and went
But I remained unchanged
Was it that I did not even learn anything
Shouldn’t I at least grow in wisdom
Well, I added the knowledge that my life’s seasons change
But I already knew life’s seasons change

I’ll miss the old times and whom I used to be
And I will always gaze at that painting of the old me
That painting set in grey muddy colours
These thoughts run through my mind
As I consider the new season of my life
Coming with showers and brightness

The days of the dark clouds are crawling out
They are waving at me from a distance
Don’t worry fellas
I’ll miss you
I think these things within me
I wave back
I smile
I blink
I hold back a tear
I sniff lightly
I do not let them see it

What to do
When life is as it should be
What to do
When I cannot find my inspiration
When I have nothing to say to those facing sorrowful times
When all I can write about are the almost meaningless things
When getting a promotion at work is just ordinary
When boasting of new inventions is the norm
When buying my third car is just another hobby

When someone frowning at me ruins my day
When someone crying beside me soils my mood
When someone ruffling my dress gets me angry
Yes, those are the kinds of things that disturb me now

What to do
When I can’t keep a poker face
Because now all my bosses are so nice to me
And I have no reason to be guarded around them
And my emotions bleed shamelessly on my sleeve
For all to see and read my thoughts clearly

What to do
When I can’t empathize with my patients
Because I have so quickly forgotten
What it means to live in psychic chaos
Lying in peace on the bed of conflicts
Because my senses have grown accustomed to darkness
That even the light would hurt
And make my eyes bleed
Like a traveller in a canoe in the middle of a sea
Where the most peaceful moments
Are the dark nights he can’t read the sky to navigate
And he would just sit still
With the barest of ease nature affords him
Because the monsters of the great sea of life
Are busy tonight
Mating
To produce lovelier babies
Newer sorrows this life has not seen before
Maybe tomorrow they will think fondly of him
And the whole family will pay him a visit

No, life won’t cut him a break

Life doesn’t cut these patients of mine a break
And some of them may soon be back after discharge
Suffering from relapses
Whilst their kind doctor can only manage sympathy
Because he cannot empathize
He has forgotten what chaos smells like
Has life cut him his own break

Life doesn’t cut one a break

So strongly do I believe this
That it doesn’t make sense to me
That these dark clouds over my estate are leaving
Not only is it abnormal
It is somewhat sad
These dark clouds over my life
Have been a source of beauty
Colouring my days with different shades of grey
Muddy grey colours

What will I do now
With my melancholic-creative self

These thoughts run through my mind
As I wave at these dark clouds
Half-hoping they will change their minds and turn back
I say no word to them
Just a sniff I suppress
Just a tear I hold back
As these lovely clouds creep over the horizon
And happy blue skies stroll through
I wave them in
I give no smile
I give no blink
I let out a sniff
The tear I had held back trekked through

The happy days ask me why
I tell them they are tears of joy
As I look sideways fondly at the old painting of me
Set in grey sorrowful colours
And wonder within me what is to become of my life
In this new season I am in
The happy days of happy thoughts!

INCOMPLETE JUST YET

(Source: deviantart.net)

You gave no warning

When I did what I thought was right

You just smiled

When I did what I knew was wrong

You just smiled

I woke up first day of last year

And you were gone

I was sure I was still dreaming

Because you leaving has to be a nightmare

Because it was supposed to be morning

But it was still dark

It was morning but it was dark

Because when you left

You took away light

And since then the world has been in darkness

Day or night

The saddest thing was only you left

You didn’t take away your things from my house

It was when I looked for you yourself

That I realized you had left

Are you dead or just gone

Would I ever know

If you were the one I asked that question

You would probably just smile

You would just smile

Well, maybe I will wait here

For when you come pick your things

Please tell me you are coming to

That way I will have the sad dignity

Of being made fully aware

You are finally gone

And there’d be no mistaking it

I will sit here on my bed

Waiting for you

No! Not in self-pity

Or in a shameful attempt at histrionics

But what’s to do when it’s all dark

And I am tired of sleeping forever

And no one’s going to work outside

What’s to do to make sense of the madness

What’s an ill shrink got to do

Except to sit patiently on the bed

Listen to the nocturnal animals

Talking and playing together

Saying things only I can hear

Sweet whispers only I hear in my head

Well, they are comforting

Because now I hear the animals talk about you

They call you mysterious and strange

Well they seem to have you all figured out

Since that’s what seems to describe you best

I’ll wait for when you come

To pick your things

And maybe I will beg you

To tell me why you left

And took away the light of the world

Leaving us in chaotic perfection and confused clarity

Our centres holding as well as a rubbery cornerstone

And we have only managed to build lives like grand sand castles

(Source: deviantart.com)

Even so I am afraid I may not get an answer

Because you seem to like speaking in riddles

You seem to fancy shrouded and cloudy speeches

Replying my questions with words that raise more questions

I know what I’ll do

Since I can’t sleep or do anything

I know what to do

I’ll just wait

Uselessly

Passively

Forever…

After sending this all over the world

Maybe it will get to you

Maybe it will get to your heart

And you will come

And maybe when you come

Maybe you won’t tell me why you left

Maybe you will come back to me

Maybe you will stay for real this time

BACKGROUND: “Incomplete” by Backstreet Boys is playing in the background.

No, it wasn’t quite the song that inspired this. After writing this, I just couldn’t think of a better background now than the opening lines of the song.

DRUMS

 

And let's all get high striking the innocent drums... (source: goodmanlivingwell)

[And let’s all get high striking the innocent drums… (source: goodmanlivingwell)]

The skin stretched taut
It then speaks of things beyond it

The artist grabs it with both arms
With the force of pleading
Strikes it across the face
He begs the drum to speak
The drum speaks then loftily
As if of its own accord
As if it had a choice
It cries out in a tune too high
The tighter the skin is stretched
The greater the pain it suffers
The louder and finer the cries
With masochistic ecstasy

We then hear these cries and are happy
We put the dance to our feet
And pride ourselves like connoisseurs
Of musical sadism
A primal form of art
Of which
We are all artists
And we delight in pain
Whether when inflicted on us
And we dance in self-pity
Or sweet vengeful bitterness
Or when others around us suffer
And we gather round the table
To feast on the delicious degradation of others’ misfortunes
We express an unknown sort of disgust or shock
At some scandal
Oh the thrill we feel all the way
When we make drums of others

Even the innocent little kid is already being initiated into the art. (source: smithsonianmag.com)

 

[Even the innocent little kid is already being initiated into the art. (source: smithsonianmag.com)]

Carry your troop away
I want none of you
Don’t disturb this lonesome artist
Lounging out peacefully
On his rooftop
Where he has placed a mat
For him to lie stretched out skin-bare
Light-brown leather
Just another drum
But in the arms of a Creator
Kind and merciful unlike all these I see
And don’t you dare call me irritable
Just because I can’t dance to your sick tune.
_____________________________________________

BACKGROUND: Please, if I may very mildly say, I am not a fan of how ingeniously cruel we can be as humans when we delight in the suffering of people. Sadly, this does not exempt the seemingly nice ones at times when they have reacted in apparent horror at another’s misfortune. Meanwhile, underneath are all sorts of feelings and thoughts they would not be exactly proud of if shown clearly.
So, let none tag me along in these discussions. I’ll be sure to spoil the fun for you. Don’t worry, I won’t mind when you all turn your appetites towards the “misfit” in the comment thread, away from the true victims who need more from you than your clichéd expressions of mock shock, which seem to be ALL you would have to offer.

Falling Apart Into New.

Seasons-2

I am crying every way I can.
I am trying to express this on paper every way I can.
Now I am never going to get over this also.
Now I am getting used to the tears of previous seasons gone by haunting me with the turn of a new season.
There were waves of terrorist attacks in the region where I was last winter. The region was isolated from the usual life I had been used to. The people were very different from the people I had grown up with –and not just in physical appearance/resemblance. I was at a new phase of my career. I had moments of fun and all sorts. It was supposed to be a very eventful/memorable period of my life.
But, whenever I look back on that season of my life, I only remember the times I sang to you under the sun’s glory, my headphones booming steadily against my eardrums. I only remember the times I played with thoughts of you whilst jauntily strolling in the evening’s peace. I only remember crying in sweet fondness as I prayed to you in the peak chill of the night’s dark. I only remember waking up in high hopes of spending the new day with you every morning’s bright. Our moments together have become fairy-ghosts that haunt my every recollection of that phase of my life. It’s like I am having selective amnesia; and my memories are being replaced completely with only those that have to do with you. At this rate, I won’t have any have any recollection of my growing up years before I met you. I won’t remember the fact that I spent 6 years of my life studying to be a doctor. Heck! One day, I will probably wake up with no memories of my name or who I am. But, I know I will remember every moment we spend together. Fairy-ghosts now eat up the parts of my brain storing the information about all else, as I remember more clearly only those long-gone moments having to do with you. I am losing bits of “me”. It’s not so much about losing those pieces of information as is about losing the essence of “me”, my past, my experiences, my perceptions of the past. There’s more: it’s even affecting my perception of the present. I am at a function, and instead of focusing on analysing the people and personality profiling, I am thinking about how that function could somehow relate to you; and what I’d do with you; and you showing up promiscuously in the arena.
I am not just me again.
P.S.: And I’ll look in the mirror one day and will see you. You might as well change my physical form to yours. I couldn’t care less again!