[July 16th 2008 – 9 p.m.]
Continuing from the previous writing, here I am nearing the cliff of a relapse again. The distance between us sunk my heart to the bottom of the abyss, yet again. Sometimes I wonder if the mellow vibes I had been channeling my ears to contributed partly to this sorrow. The thought of support groups surfaced on my mind these few days. It came after years of watching Western movies, where support groups are the norm in their society. The thought of being able to express out my emotions daily, well mostly the negative ones anyway, brought partial relief and consolation to me. At least, it may serve to patch up the invisible wounds inflicted upon me by myself all these years. I was traveling through my condominium’s lift where a girl stood beside me. For a moment, I tried to associate my plight with hers, having the assumption that she was a lonestar too just like I am. It did bring a millisecond of relief to my depressed self until the lift door opened. Her boyfriend was there waiting for her with a box of Domino’s pizza. There they were, a pair of lovebirds swinging hands happily marching towards their unit. Appetite was not my concern tonight. Having had just a plate of fried rice during lunch, I felt absolutely no sense of hunger. Eva Cassidy was playing before, but then suddenly ’30 Seconds to Mars – The Kill’ caught my eye in the folder I was rummaging through. Well, I thought maybe I needed rock. And suddenly the thought of popping those pills appeared again in my confused state of mind. There is a battle ensuing from within, on whether to yet again resort to such temporary measures. Damien Rice once said ‘this has got to die, this has got to stop’. I had better go for a shower now and forget about the pills.
Continuing from the previous writing, here I am nearing the cliff of a relapse again. The distance between us sunk my heart to the bottom of the abyss, yet again. Sometimes I wonder if the mellow vibes I had been channeling my ears to contributed partly to this sorrow. The thought of support groups surfaced on my mind these few days. It came after years of watching Western movies, where support groups are the norm in their society. The thought of being able to express out my emotions daily, well mostly the negative ones anyway, brought partial relief and consolation to me. At least, it may serve to patch up the invisible wounds inflicted upon me by myself all these years. I was traveling through my condominium’s lift where a girl stood beside me. For a moment, I tried to associate my plight with hers, having the assumption that she was a lonestar too just like I am. It did bring a millisecond of relief to my depressed self until the lift door opened. Her boyfriend was there waiting for her with a box of Domino’s pizza. There they were, a pair of lovebirds swinging hands happily marching towards their unit. Appetite was not my concern tonight. Having had just a plate of fried rice during lunch, I felt absolutely no sense of hunger. Eva Cassidy was playing before, but then suddenly ’30 Seconds to Mars – The Kill’ caught my eye in the folder I was rummaging through. Well, I thought maybe I needed rock. And suddenly the thought of popping those pills appeared again in my confused state of mind. There is a battle ensuing from within, on whether to yet again resort to such temporary measures. Damien Rice once said ‘this has got to die, this has got to stop’. I had better go for a shower now and forget about the pills.
1 comment:
i love how you described the scene at the lift. it's a beautiful letdown that all of us could relate to. subconsciously reaching out to grasp for something that makes us feel less alone.
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