because this is a place where I don't feel alone

21st January, 2011

out in the garden where we planted the seeds

there's a tree as old as me...

I stare outside the ridget, unstable train.
I look at red-roofed houses and plain fields, a shade of greenish grey.
the sky has had a long day; its body cold & sweaty with light drizzle.


I could've went back to college to take the LRT.
but i decided to take the monorail home.


I think I just want more time away.
away from people, away from everything that usually surrounds me.


running; I cannot express how much it saves me.
because when I run, it feels like nothing in the world can hold me back. I can let go of all the things that weigh me down. they fade away with the winds that try to defeat me. they just go away.


the same way I stare into the clouds.
as The Cinematic Orchestra provides the music for that plays in the solitary background of the messy thoughts in my head, everything falls into place & everything feels alright. they transform into wisps of imaginary puzzle pieces fitting perfectly into the quiet gaps of the faded white clouds, the somber tint of orange in the sky, in the wise trees that seem to watch me from afar, almost as if they know me, & they notice me.


& maybe they do.
maybe I'm just like one of those girls to them; one of those people who can relate to them & notice their lengthy barks, twigs, branches and yellow leaves.

there is a tree as old as me.

Xanax- Maria Taylor

just because.

"there are two ways to look at life.


actually, that's not accurate. I suppose there are thousands of ways to look at life. But I tend to dwell on two of them. The first view is that nothing stays the same and that nothing is inherently connected, and that the only driving force in anyone's life is entropy. The second is that everything pretty much stays the same (more or less) and that everything is completely connected, even if we don't realize it.


There are many mornings when I feel certain that the first perspective is irrefutably true; I wake up, I feel the inescapable oppression of the sunlight pouring through my bedroom window, and I am struck by the fact that I am alone. and that everyone is alone. and that everything I understood seven hours ago has already changed, and that I have to learn everything again.

I guess I am not a morning person after all.


However, that feeling always passes. In fact, it's usually completely gone before lunch. Every new minute of every new day seems to vaguely improve. & I suspect that's because the alternative view- that everything is ultimately like something else and that nothing and no one is autonomous- is probably the greater truth. The math does check out; the numbers do add up. The connections might not be hard-wired into the superstructure of the universe, but it feels like they are whenever I put money into a jukebox and everybody in the bar suddenly seems to be having the same conversation.

and in that last moment before I fall asleep every night, I understand Everything. The world is one interlocked machine, throbbing and pulsing a flawless organism.

This is why I always hate falling asleep."

Leaving Blues- Bombay Bicycle Club