Tag Archives: love

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!

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LOOKING FOR YOU

Source: online, unknown

Dearest,

Some would fight for love. I don’t have that as-noble-as-is-shameful aspiration. I am writing to find you. When I used to watch you write, I never quite understood it when you told me it calmed you. Well, maybe because I could not imagine you ruffled in the first instance. You said writing helped you collect your thoughts.

I don’t collect, neither am I quite collected.

I am writing to find you.

Where are you since you have been gone? Where do people like you go? Into the arms of someone else? Who can satisfy the appetites of people like you? Can even someone like you do that? I know I pushed you away. And I know the hurt in itself could drive you into the arms of another in a fit of rebound, yes? Or, are you beyond frailties? I like to think what we shared could mean so much to you to have affected you that way. Apparently, I am not beyond selfishness. Or, maybe that is the way the experience some call love ought to be. That what partly made it special was knowing that I was responsible for you and you vulnerable to me. How sick is that?

Is there any point to this? Why should I want you back? What is to stop this cycle from repeating itself again? People argue breakup-makeup cycles are bad. Others say one could learn from past mistakes and redo things better. What if the explanation is simpler than that? That we are meant to be, and part of what happens is we grow from knowing that we are bound to end up with each other again –the sense of the inevitability. That generally should make sense to you. It should comfort you that: the fact we keep ending up back together should mean that we are meant to be –the sense of predestination, certainty and rightness of decision. The proof that a force beyond natural must want us to be together.

Or, have we become an old love? The kind that just gives off smokes like a locomotive, which can never aspire to be a spaceship giving off fire. You know such crafts are not practicable on this earth’s ground where we live, right? Why not enjoy the familiarity that we have. Why not gain from growing into each other. Or, does that make us like poles which repel?

People argue a little drama now and then is good. Does breaking up sound little to you? Should one deliberately start a drama not knowing if it had the capacity to escalate into a break? How does one perfectly control the situation? Would someone in love be so calculating and manipulative of love itself no less?

I know we are generally a complicated lot as humans. We criticise some for making issues complicated. Yet we somehow deep inside enjoy complications in life. We say it makes us feel alive.

But, please, believe me when I say I want to find you. It’s not about finding love as an experience. I want you. And this desire is without complication or another shade of meaning. It is as plain as my thoughts, as my words.

It is as wonderfully calm as I feel when writing. When writing this.

Don’t make me wait forever. The waiting game does not necessarily breed passion. It can finally kill whatever spark is left.

Please…

I wait to hear from you.

 

Yours,

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.

S T R U C K ! ! !

English: African Lion and Eland Antelope skele...

English: African Lion and Eland Antelope skeleton diorama to be displayed in the Museum of Osteology. Photo by Jay Villemarette (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So hear
You know I am already a fool
When it comes to you
I stalk you like a haunter
A haunter ill-prepared
To apprehend the victim
So that each time
I come close to you
I am all amped up
Adrenaline pouring through my blood
As I prepare to hop on you
And claim you for myself
But at the climax of my anxiety
I am reminded that
There really is no way to bring it through
This lack makes me burn hotter with sickening desire

For a moment
You look in my direction
Just in time to see me on fire
Oh darn! I reek of burns
I try to run away
But the trail of smoke betrays me wickedly
You try to reach for me
But, again, I think
What will be the end to it
What happens after you catch up to me
Stand and stare me in the face
So I run
Adrenaline oozing through my sweat
A strong pheromone
On someone dreading attention
And you chase me
Why you do I don’t know
But I won’t even dare to ask that
If and when you should catch up with me

I just run
Like a foolish lion
Who faced a horned antelope
To discover late
That he hadn’t grown any tooth or claw!

Simple Ironies -(unedited)

The curse of man

image

The genius does something retarded
And is impressed at his creativity
Like he was bored with being smart every time
And is happy with a new experience

The two lovers feel they are stronger
After fighting and making up
When they promise to never break up
With the inevitability they will sooner or later

The father looks at son
And is awestruck at how protective he feels
Feeling the same awesome way
When he spanks the lad impatiently

The psychologist who visits another psychologist
And sees herself being analysed by the other
Saying things she knows she could have expressed herself
Without being charged per unit time

Oh! What do we really know about even ourselves
The one minute pontificating about power, love and intellect
The next minute acting like spineless, selfish halfwits
Yet feeling grandiose again before the day is over

P.S.: And this bored lazy writer
Reels simple ideas recklessly out
Yet knowing the distinct appeal
Of sensibly organized poetry form

Writing like nothing in his piece
Even remotely refers to his humanity
Claiming the power of the artist is purely imaginative
Yet knowing the power of art is in soul-ish expression