Drowning Isn't the Best Solution

Freyja Griffin one day realized that she was born to die. But then, everyone else is too. So she decided to make do with her life

Sunday, December 05, 2004

Lemon Tea

It’s like tasting the sourness of lemon for the first time, surprised yet you wanted more. Sourness that slowly turns into sweetness once you get used to it. Like when I first kissed your lips. I thought my heart was going to leap out of my throat, landed on your feet with a shudder and you would stomp on it and kill me. But you closed your eyes and moved closer. And then, we kissed.

You always make me feel restless. I don’t understand. Nothing is too special about you. Not the look. Not the voice. And my insides turned upside down whenever you are near. I nearly thought there’s a monster living inside my stomach and it’s going to burst out from me right in front of you.

And then you reached out to me and for a millisecond I wanted to absorb you through my pores. We’ve known each other for a long time, yet each time we meet there is always something unfamiliar about you. And then you talked, and I didn’t recognize you. And then you smiled, and your eyes drowned me in comfort. We are like one ‘coz we read each other like open books. And still I don’t know you. How can such thing be possible?

No, no, no. Don’t listen to my heart beats, you will steal it. If you stole my heart beats, how would I pump this warmth to my cells? You? You can’t even talk, barely keeping me alive. No! Don’t hug me. My blood cells will explode if you hug me like this. Just like the Chinese New Year red fireworks hung by the front door and on the corners. Don’t go near! But, not too far. Cold is lonely and I fear of sadness.

Move. Yes, breathe again. I love watching you move. I love your elbows. Whenever you sit and crossed your arms like that, I held my breath. You have the loveliest elbows. The prettiest God ever created, perhaps. And your chin too. Keep on talking so I can see your chin moves. Talk about what? I don’t know. You can imitate that goldfish in the bowl. I can pretend we are in a mute movie and you are reading a love poem for me. Of course we can’t hear it because it’s a mute movie.

You said you keep me behind your eyelids. Whenever you close your eyes am I there right in front of you? Filling your head too? I close my eyes and I can sense your scent. There is no such thing as in love. What there is; dying repeatedly and keep going back and live again because i let you held my heart and because i borrowed yours. It can’t go on like this but i don’t want to end this. So i secretly carved my name on your heart with a knife before i give it back to you. You’re so mean, you carved your face in my heart. Now how am i supposed to let ohers borrow it? They will return it to me as soon as they see your face in it. Not fair! This is why i told you not to listen to my heart beats.

Changing words under the trees as the sun sets. My toes sank in the sand, tickled by the breaking wave upon the shores. You can’t play guitar and you can’t sing a love song. I don’t mind ‘coz I’m not in love with a rock star. You reached out to me again and i know this time i have to absorb all of you through my pores. So you won’t be able to leave me alone and cold. You can repeat all the words you just said under a thousand sunsets. Stay where i can see you whenever i turn my head. Living is impossible if you are not the first i see whenever i open my eyes. I know you have to go. I know it’s just for a while until my feet are set on the ground and when i look up i can see the ceiling above us which you hold on your shoulders, and i will stand next to you, holding you, and maybe we can be happy.

I want to put myself in a glass jar filled with your breath, your warmth, your scent, the bright orange dusk sky and the sand between my toes, breaking waves upon the shore, until the time you take the glass jar and keep it next to the identical one you made for me. We can sit and watch the two glass jars with cups of tea. Perhaps lemon tea. Just like when we first kiss.

I've always loved lemon tea. Its just lemon and tea and water...maybe a hint of sugar, but that mixture can calm you down in a storm and keep you warm in the cold, depends on how you do with it. Simple but very effective.
I wrote this for my boyfriend years ago. He's just an ordinary person like me, what makes us so special is the situation we are in. Although i don't get to see him often i still think he's the sweetest lover anyone could ever have. I always imagined us doing what old couple would be doing when spending a boring time together, sit around and watch the rain drops on the window with cups of tea or the like. Because we're too tired to do anything else, because we just want to be next to eachother, because we want to be alone together.

Friday, December 03, 2004

So what if i write?

I did lots of writings, none of it works. I once have a great dream of inspiring people with whatever I'm writing, but i don't know. I mean, you're not supposed to tell people about something you haven't gone through and above all, one shouldn't be the judge of others. OK... look who's talking?

Somehow inspirations always came during time spent in the bathroom. It's like a magic sort of place. Weird. Like this morning, I realise something in the shower. About how much we have to be not ourselves for other people.

Body odour. Everyone has it, some are stronger then others, some seemed to have none. Society wants you to smell good so you can mingle with them and have no worries about odor problems.. what is an odor problems anyway? I smelled...i don't know how i smelled when i was 13 but people seemed to make a big fuss about it.

Thursday, December 02, 2004

Like a Rat Race

Paint Faces

Why you paint faces,
why you paint faceless meat?
It's raining and you wish it rains even harder,
even harder
Raining shit
You can sit in it with waiting,
a blank mind;
a blunt knife to cut yourself like butter,
melting under too much sun,
under too much stress
But, it won't stop raining,
and you just won't sink
All the faceless meat you remembered the faces.
It was all so painful you just know you can't stop
'Cause waking up hurts more than staying inside
Dreams where they still have faces and everyone is in pain
-- November 29, 2004
Isn't it odd that you think people just forget about you and move on with their lives when you seem to always remember them and think about them and your life is where you are and it's not going anywhere? A friend used to say that this was because you look down to yourself, underestimating your own achievements. I hope she's right. She's getting married in four months from today and you can see that glow in her. The glow people in love has, people that are happy and can't be much happier. I think I used to glow like that. I don't know what ended the glow, I can't even remember when. I kept on going fuelled with my own chaos, my own issues. I guess that make me selfish but I need to keep my sanity. Everything was too simple to be simply understood.
You lost your friends after marriage, either yours or theirs. I lost mines after theirs. Maybe I'll get them back after having mine, and lost some other as a compensation. Perhaps marriage is like stepping into a whole different world. You are bound by a contract. For life. And like a job sometimes you have to strife hard to keep the contract and in the process had to sacrifice other prioroties; such as friends. I think it's a bunch of bullshits. Yet I kept losing my friends, and starting to feeling somewhat of fear towards this contract thing.
Still I hope my friend is happy. She looked happy the last time I saw her, radiating happiness. And I'm happy for her because I know what it feels like--to be in love and happy--and she deserves all the happiness she can get. I just hope I won't be forgotten. That the world in which I'm still in, is not forgotten.
Feeling alone is much more horrible then being alone.