Wandering Scribbles...

It has been awhile since I visited my dear blog and I can sense, it is in dire need of new scribbles. Let me start off with a few scribbles and maybe I can take it from there.

Last night, while I was chasing Morpheus in the streets of Rigga and Muraqqabat, a gazillion of realisations cross my mind. My life, my plans, my well-being, my anxieties, stress, pressure, my job, my dysfunctional love life, and yes, even my sex life, my studies, my thesis adviser, my emails, my office stuff, a lot. This will be my 4th year in the Gulf, my 3rd year at school, my 27th year of existence and well, soon to be my 5th month after that very bad break up (I have to highlight it, otherwise people might think I haven't had one). I am still in one piece - this is what I finally came into conclusion. It is still me, a better me? No, but definitely a more aware ME.

I am just glad that every day is another day to celebrate life, to celebrate ME. While I always find myself in the middle of challenges, it is indeed a matter of picking up your own pieces in the afternoon, glue them together at night and wake up as a whole the next morning. Maybe this time, I have aged enough to realise that while I am yet to be at the pinnacle of my life, but at least, I can hold my head high and not simply keep on bobbing up and down as if drowning in a flood of life's realities.

That yesterday once more...

25 March 2013, just barely a few days some 6 months ago when I had my best yesterday that I never had for a long time. It was at this same cool, breezy evening that I yearned for a tomorrow of warm embraces and lingering kisses. I dropped that nonchalantly attitude and opened my eyes to a wider horizon of challenges. I thought that yesterday will never end and will simply lead on to another tomorrow of happiness.

But that was some 6 months ago. True, some hearts simply cannot quit beating for that moment in one yesterday. Some hearts will simply never get tired of hammering into your veins that blood of yearning to be in that same yesterday...once more...

Hearts simply cannot forget easily, they simply never quit fast enough to look forward for a new yesterday. What else can I reckon but nothing, a powerless me...living on what my heart is beating...that yesterday, that same yesterday...once more...

My Home

I always look forward to go home after a day's work. The thought of me shuffling between my studies and something being fried is a challenge - but yes, it gives me that sense of fulfillment in the end. Those hurried steps just to take an earlier train and the rush to surmount that flight of stairs to catch another train seems an ordeal. But once he grasped your hand or simply stare at you as alight in the lift, nothing beats the feeling of coming home.

 

Yes, I lived a happy life in his arms, though I may have scorned at him for some time, but at the end of the day, it is the love that...conquers all. I made him my life. He made me his trophy? Bliss is all that I can ever think of to describe the feeling when you cuddle each other in that small bed completely devoid of the world outside.

 

But, as reality bites, slaps and cuts, this home that I always look forward to is transformed into a cold, sordid structure. Nothing but those muted memories shared in its four corners will never remain as ubiquitous as the laughter we once share. I do not belong in that home. It is not my home, it was just a shelter for me. A shelter for the two souls who found each other and thought that love is everything in this world. But no, love does not exist in such shelters. It is a temporary shelter where love is meant to be consumed and then forgotten. A shelter where pain in fact exists in its ceilings, in its creaky hinges that continuously wail in every night.

 

This is not my home. It is someone else's home. But this is the same home where I found love, where I believed in love...But again, it belongs to someone else and I should find somewhere to shelter this love that I have.

Perhaps...

A friend of mine has been selling the idea of parallel universe for quite some time now and although I initially met her idea with sarcasm, I can now see her point at present time. Parallel universe is the concept of having multiple universes. That is, if we, now, are living in this current universe that we know of, there are still, other universes that exist. And that, in those other universes, the same you, me, us exist. But, the only difference is, in those other universes, we live in what we desire of, from what we want ourselves to be. While I consider this concept as an excuse of the reality that our current universe offers - but I believe, she has a damn good point.

 

Why not? When all else has failed you in this universe that you are living on. When everything here is simply nothing but a struggle to find your own true self, to find those lost consciousness, or to find your simple senses. I can then start of thinking how in the other universes, I am now living in a life where everything just makes sense to me. That I do not have to struggle in understanding the why's and the why not's? And that I have my own piece of contentment and happiness.

 

It is never an excuse to embrace parallel universes. It is never a form of escapism, but rather a truth which lies in us, deep in our hearts, in our minds, in our soul. That concept that comforts us when everything and everyone lets us down. That concept that keeps us from losing our sanity. That concepts which holds us true to our real emotions as human beings.

 

In the very cliche of each of our battles of life, perhaps it is the parallel universe that can provide to us the very reason why in the first place should we fight for what we believe in, for what we feel and what we think is worthy for us. It can be that the parallel universe, offers to us the very reason why we exist and we continue on living in the first place.

 

Perhaps, after all, it is the parallel universe that can make us smile after all the pain that we may have been or that we are going through. Perhaps.

My Cloud 9

I was in cloud 9 that time and all I know of is bliss. It seems to be so surreal but true. You have that blush in your cheeks when upon waking up, it is no a dream. Yes, butterfly kisses are true and they are sweet. Those murmurs you have as one sends tiny tingles in your ears just in time for you to flutter your eyelids to greet the morning sun. It was all good and there is nothing that I can think of that time. The smell of the well-done eggs ready to be served and my own rush to take part in the scene of what I call - my happiness. It was happiness, I was happy, I was smiling, I was in my cloud 9. 

As I welcome those warm embraces, what more can I ask for? These are my simple pleasures that I can continue on treasuring for the rest of my life. It is in this small space that we had that I finally found my cloud 9, my love. It was in the midst of uncertainty that I proclaimed love. And, it is in this small space that I started relishing every dream that I had in the past. Again, this is now all true. I have my smiles to prove it.

But it was a gamble in fact. A gamble when I know, my cloud 9 will just be any cloud that will pour like rain over summer. I have my cloud 9 but I know it will never last. And then, I started realising, cloud 9s are never sweet. Mine is bitter - bitter with tears. The realisation of my dreams in fact cost me my cloud 9, cost me my love. And, I never knew until I realised that my cloud 9 is gone, that I lost it in my gamble just for love.

Can I have your world too?

I have your heart but I do not fit in your world. It is sad and agonizing to realize that I may be living in a fairytale when tears are hidden in the darkness of the pillows. I got your heart but not the world where you live. True, it is a gamble, it is a risk. I swallowed them all. Can't you? Bittersweet but yes, it is reality. A slap may be good to let me end my wander in this what I thought happiness.

Can I consider it as being unfair? Selfish? Or am I the one? Insecure, perhaps. Begging, yes. All I wish is to step in your world. This is empty yearning that I know too well will never happen. Again, can you risk? Can you gamble? Or, can I fit in?

A lot of questions, always, well, in this life when questions are more than answers. Where answers are vague but one just has to swallow everything. It hurts, it is killing me. And, until when should I bear this? Too uncertain, maybe, until such time that I can have my someone who will let me own his world too.

Do you think it is easy to be a mistress?

Yeah right!!! Gone are the days when we all have to contend in the proximity of what the norm is. Society is no better than any one's self whose existence will solely depend on the dictates of the world. This is the year when mistresses are venerated..exulted.

But yes, it is no easy task, nor an easy role, not a chicken responsibility and never an ideal life to live. Why? Just examine the myriad of reasons that a usual man-woman relationship has and why did they decided to fall in love or worse, tie the knot? They love each other. But what about mistresses? Aren't they supposed to be human beings whose hearts are no stranger to anyone else? Well, a puff of a cigarette exhumes all these insecurities and allows one mistress to face the morning sun the next day. A challenge.

It is a dilemma. It is a statement but has never been a fact. Especially in a society when norms are upheld and are treated as gods far venerated that any other decaying saint. Mistresses are just statements that define reality but never constitute life. It is a fact but never a weighed evidence to justify why man lives on this earth. Yes, we are born to love, a love that is supposed to conform to the norms.

Until when should we all allow our thoughts, our realities in this agonizing truth that we are all promiscuous in our feelings? Save that of the promiscuity to ones flesh, but yes, the truth slaps us well enough to face mistresses in our daily life struggles.

Until when should we tolerate such? Are we not consumed with such drama? But no, that is what makes the world go round. We may decay soon, but this truth will always haunt every woman and man who has been a recluse of the norm of the society. The hell with that norm. Why should we conform when we were born with an inherent right to be happy?

And I rest my case...