Crypticity

There are these strange moments when I bid farewell to the last person I'm to interact with for the day, and it's almost as if I'm shutting a mental door behind them, and collapse against the door, sighing audibly, a loud "phew" if you will: finally I can stop pretending, finally I can wipe off the smile.

And it is weird, because these are the moments when I shut down the gates, lock the windows and then let myself be me. And yet, that girl out there with everyone, laughing, smiling, joking, slapping, glaring, she was me. But not really. These moments I tune into my music, and in a few hours of downtime, my focus is incomparable. I am down the warphole, and yet I am in a dangerous emotional torpedo. Sometimes, yes, I self destruct when I get too close with my solder and tweezers, trying to figure out what went wrong, without protective measures.

I harbour a lot of secrets, and I am not sure how many I keep from myself either. There was a time I felt that there was that one person that I told absolutely everything to, but one soon learns that sometimes, some things it is better to keep to oneself.

I am not sure now what I am really asking for. I know what I want more than ever, and yet I am now embarking on a ship that will literally take me away - far away - from any retribution or fulfillment of these dreams.

Maybe sometimes I shut the doors and lock the window against my own dreams. And that's okay. Maybe I will learn to survive without them.

Elusive

Those who know me will recognize that I can tend to be elusive - a ghost - for the very purpose of not being known.

There are periods, therefore, where I will be less communicative; I will less likely be around. My absence can indicate some sort of cognitive clouding, a pulling away from opportunities to express what is on my mind, a retraction into myself due to some person disassociation.

Yes, it is true. I, like most people perhaps, attempt to hide my sadness. Whereas I have long dreamt and wished for the fulfillment of having another being to completely satisfy an innate yearning of empathy and compassion, I have simultaneously refrained from opening up as a form of self-preservation.

In the instances where I have mistakenly believed that I had found such a person, my tendency toward self-preservation had been further strengthened by the act of disillusionment; broken trust, a broken heart, the irreparable damage of being left behind, and perhaps somehow worse, the cold apathy experienced in a state of emotional vulnerability.

It is interesting to consider how more generally inclined our psyches are to holding compassion, patience and kindness toward those visibly impaired, whether it be psychological or physical disability. Anecdotal evidence rather proves this. However, why is it that when another being, not so as aforesaid disabled, experiences sorrow, suffering, and general weakness of spirit and mind, our threshold to compassion is so different. The latter soon becomes an emotional liability; to put it simply, putting up with their suffering becomes a pain in the ass.

I am as guilty of this as the next person. I will have been found to have sighed in exasperation and said, 'Get over it, already!' You know you have. But where is the line? That which differentiates a petty bout of complaints versus a long-standing promise to be there, no matter what?

For said reason maybe I hesitate at being that burden. The funny thing is, I have a chronic psychological phobia of being left behind by someone I have invested emotionally in -left behind not just in the physical act, but being displaced cognitively - and yet once I have opened up, that's it, that person's capacity to deal with this not-so-strong, not-so-independent girl evaporates. Catch-22, in a way.

The list of these experiences is longer than anyone could ever know, longer than could be known by even the one person in whom I placed everything, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, personally, on the basis that finally I found the elusive soulmate.

But maybe it's not just elusive. Maybe it just does not exist.

Right now I am broken and still breaking. And I admit this, the girl who would rather die before admit this. But I am already a ghost - unseen, unattended, invisible- after all. 

Endorphins

Ah those good ol' hormones. Can't live with em, can't live without them. Well, certainly - and literally- the latter, anyways.

We often associate hormones with two phenomenons, generally. First, that of our time of puberty, when we're suddenly awakening to an enhanced realization of our physicality, and moreover, the physicality of the other gender, and its effect upon us. Secondly, and unfortunately, hormones are often generalized and associated with the unforgiving period of err, ..yes pun intended. PMS.

But then again, that's not just it right? Obviously not the case, because our every moment is a flux of hormones running about our body, up and down and around and around. Every single stimulation that occurs, each reaction, that's it right there, hormones at work.

Having been a medical biology student, this was stuff of immense interest to me. Not purely in the studious way either, but the magical way these organic compounds within us seemed to make meaning of how we function and more importantly...why. Once I mastered the basics it was easier to come to terms with those spells of moods and feelings by knowing what was behind it.

Along the way came the relief in realizing that my strange inclination to become teary quite easily was also perfectly explained. Crying was not a weakness, but in fact a normal biological reaction wherein external stimuli which threatened our emotional well-being, or tipped that balance one way or the other (because, afterall, we can cry in happiness too), incited the production of emotional tears, and in so doing, stimulating the release of endorphins into our bloodstreams.

Endorphins? Yep, those feel-good hormones. You may be familiar with that rush of exhiliration that comes with a good dose of exercise, or emotional connectivity with another special person (i.e. love) or...physical connectivity. The chemical composition of endorphins are very similar to opiates...so forget having a joint of heroin or popping them codeine pills...whenever you need a mood boost, all you gotta do is exercise, or fall in love, or err make love. Or cry.

Strong of Heart

Hardship is nature's way of weeding out the faint of heart.

Quite frequently, with the spreading of death and destruction across our world, the question arises: how, if there exists a merciful almighty power of any kind, could such calamity be allowed to happen?

Logic often supersedes emotion, in fact, in its quintessential acts independently. The laws of evolution as they have been permitted to be known in generalization often emphasize upon the fundamental, 'survival of the fittest'.

The greater power, if so exists, may be not more than a scientist that dabbles in a hobby, or perhaps even a passion, for art - for the beauty encountered in much of our daily life is such that we cannot but help remark upon it. But scientist he most assuredly is, for if he has created anything, it would be the laws which govern our world, physically, metaphysically, and perhaps metaphorically - and otherwise.

He is the programmer, writing code which easily loop, executes, and performs conditional if and then commands. If it goes up, then it must come down. If it is born, then it must die. And that is where it comes in: the balance of life.

For the perpetuation of this species relies on the fundamentals of survival; the fit are defined as those who survive, and yet the condition to survive is to be fit. Therein exist conditions which test the population in ceaseless and incessant scenarios, so seemingly randomized yet so profound - and rare and therefore unprepared for - that understanding is often beyond our capacity, let alone acceptance.

For we are governed by hormones, the chemicals programmed to induce reaction, responsiveness, to perform this way dependent on stimuli. We are markedly made human by our ability to feel, emote, to communicate our sentience with a modicum of intelligence and emotion.

Logic then dictates that external stimuli of negative connotation, or perceived as such by our developed humanity, induces hormonal conditions to set in motion corresponding emotions: despair, disappointment, anger, despondence, remorse, resignation, fear, etc. These are such that can, in excess, tip the balance upon which our threshold for survival rests. It gives opportunity for us to reliquish our hold on our own health and well being; for us to be that much less careless about our safety; it means we are the weak -- and the weak are weeded out.

So keep in mind, when next you're sad, or struggling through hardship, wondering why. It's the test, the game, the way of life; hang tough, fight on, be strong. Survive.

Fear (May Challenge Continued)

Day 7: The thing(s) you're most afraid of

This one is too easy. I've learnt to conquer a lot of those little phobias in various ways - for example, fear of heights, going on every and each roller coaster or amusement park ride. I try to live through a self-imposed credo of 'fear nothing', or telling myself I'm the 'girl without the fear gene'.

Anyways to the point: I don't even have to think twice about what I'm most afraid of. As long as I know, it's been one main thing that overrides any other fear. Losing people.

Not just any people, of course, but my people. Those I love, those I cherish, those I have grown attached to.   From as long as I can remember, I have been closely familiar with the sensation of loss. I have tried countless ways to overcome this, from trying to care less, or not care so much, being apathetic, not getting attached to people, or trying to stay alone. I've tried caring more, giving more of myself, more reasons for whoever not to one day disappear. I'm afraid of death,  of detachment, of deceit and distances all as subcategories of loss. Four Ds that I have hovering over my head like ghosts of past and future, and all unfortunately belonging to that bigger D: destiny.

It goes without saying that the consequences of loss have a profound impact on me, otherwise the fear wouldn't be so ingrained, nevermind one to even write about. Most of the deepest sorrows I have experienced and continue to experience are because of loss. If you come across me on a sad day, you can trust that it's somehow connected to this fear.

Tears

Gave a warm hug
Gave a hand to hold,

Gave away my heart
Gave away my soul

Held back the tears
What else could I do;

Just gave out the smile
The pain only grew.

Told them I loved 'em
That all would be fine.

Just wished
- like their tears-
Someone would wipe away mine.

- Written by IQ,  Dec 20 2005.

Silence

What makes something worth fighting for? What makes us get up and make the effort to even say we don't like something, so we'll try to voice it? Sometimes we say 'nay' just because we can. Or because we have a hope for something else. A right to something. A right to feel a certain way? Or to be able to say something. Or that hope that someone cares to listen. I don't know. It's probably one of those things that shouldn't be said, but sometimes I wish I didn't have a voice. Or that I could simply keep silent in all ways, forever. Words go wasted, arguments go unheeded, wishes uncared for, prayers go unheard.
Wanting anything for myself? No. It's time to simply let go.

Falling

The magic of music is the way it connects two people and brings them closer. But sometimes when a song expresses for one a greater meaning, for the other -- it's just a song.

15

07

It's a Thursday that's constantly felt like a Friday. Throughout the day, from the moment of awakening to the moment of leaving work in the evening, I've had to keep reminding myself that it wasn't - isn't - Friday. The week has already been long enough, and there is that bit of melancholy tinged with some unknown anxiety floating in the air, like the continuum of falling snow.

This is a mood that wants me to shut down and shut off from everything and everyone.

There's an impeding snowstorm forecasted for tomorrow. It's already started if the weather out the window of the bus I'm seated at is any indication. The winter weather warning is telling us to stay within, keep ourselves shut away and to be careful of venturing out into the chaotic and dangerous world outside.

That's already what I'm feeling, emotionally.

We'll see.

23

Ok so today's thought of the day before I forget. So, there's this girl/woman I see almost every evening on the bus going home from work. For awhile I sort of didn't like the 'vibe' I got from her - a sort of snobby type. Can't explain. Anyways, we usually sit in the same area on the bus, and yesterday she was two seats to my left, with noone between us, and she was yapping away on her phone so hyperly and excitedly, you could just FEEL the happiness oozing off her.

Tonight. I actually see her coming onto the train where I am seated when the train stops at her station, and I automatically get black vibes from her. Anxiety, worry, sorrow. This all while she's still some distance away from me, with a whole crowd between us. When we finally get on the final bus home, she's sitting right beside me. She's not talking on the phone. I'm reading, as I usually do, and my eyes flit 2 cms to the left, and right there is her iphone, and she's texting someone back.

Now, before you think I'm a total creep or stalker, let me tell you that I'm a fast reader, as in, I can take in a whole sentence at a glance, in a way. Again, hard to explain. But yeah I...ahem...absorbed some of what her conversation was and it just made me feel an amazing feeling. All of a sudden, I didn't not like her. In fact, I felt a deep sense of empathy and almost felt like hugging her and casting my eyes sideways, I saw the familiar gleam of unshed tears. A bit filmy, but yeah.

It's probably already wrong to have invaded her private space, and probably more to share what her private conversation was here. But thing is, you don't know her. And secondly, the amazement that came over me was that her private conversation was one almost anyone could relate to in some way - it was the same old script found in every other love story.

Other person (apparently the 'he'): "I don't know what is happening but I don't want us to fall for each other, the way we are already falling.... I'm feeling like a teenager again...But... I don't want to hurt and to get hurt :)"

She's writing as my eyes absorb: "I was thinking how to tell you this all day, but it seems as if I was meant to get hurt afterall."

TELL ME that's so not something we've already heard? It's so cliche, and totally the usual desi dialogue. But it's just so strange the way this emotion of heartbreak is so universal, and so familiar. It just removes all barriers to previous prejudice and creates imaginary bridges of empathy and understanding between strangers. I don't know her, but I found myself saying a quiet prayer for some sort of strength and patience to be and stay with her.

1

Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate.

-Germaine Greer

To fall in love is easy, even to remain in it is not difficult; our human loneliness is cause enough. But it is a hard quest worth making to find a comrade through whose steady presence one becomes steadily the person one desires to be. 

- Anna Louise Strong

Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better. 

- Henry Rollins

Deconstructing Happiness

This is how you do it. Choose a sad song. Preferably a song that brings tears to your eyes unbidden the moment it starts. In my case, it was Yaariyan from Cocktail. I didn't choose it so to speak, it just came on randomly while I was listening to music.

Then you get a baseball bat, and break loose. Break it against the windows, against the door, against the walls, against the mirrors. Line up your favourite possessions and break them to smithereens, one by one, or all together if that's what you want. Take everything that belongs to you and smash it all to pieces. Everything that ever brought a smile to your face, anything that made you happy, break it all apart.

Happiness is a futile emotion. It comes so fleetingly that you wonder if it were ever there. It's that sand castle you built when you were a child with innocent hopes and it all fell apart. Another kid running over it, a wave overcoming and washing it away, a parent telling you to stop making a mess and kicking it over. That's what happens to happiness. When you summon up every ounce of yourself to rebuild it, someone else comes to knock it over.

So pick up that bat, and break it all down. Break it all down before you break again.