Wednesday, August 13, 2008


I remember...

I remember the story of Pandora's box. Curiosity killed the cat. The overall theme of the thing.

All the nasty stuff inside such as hate, gluttony, etc etc [insert stuff from the 7 basic sins or something similar] were released into the world, simply because Pandora became too curious. No I don't remember this from the year 9 book we were taught to remember and recite from. I remember it from a stargate episode.

However, the main thing, a little runty thing called hope remained inside. It's a story about how hope always remains so we can turn the tables on our bad fortune, or that good things are around the corner so perseverance is called for.

When a guy really likes a girl...But then has to forgo the opportunity to court her, or is rejected, he carries with him a small scar. If confronted, every single man in this world will deny it, or admit that it's so small, its negligible. The truth however, is that this scar runs deep, and reaches inside to the core of a guy's heart. And there, at times, will shock the nerves of his heart. There are different triggers but there will always exist at least one trigger for every girl the guy's ever had the misfortune of having his heart broken by. A particular shade of colour, a certain scent passing swifter than Roger Bannister... A gripping sensation that brings back a torrent of snapshots...Each snapshot of time seceding to another and another... For a while, he is lost.

But what if a long time friend is the subject? He is seen as selfish as he is usurping the relationship he and she have built with each other, wanting to potentially risk something she does not want to throw away. Yet his feelings are undeniable. Every day he seeks advice from those around, whispering here, digging information there. As each brick of knowledge is placed, he learns of the circumstances, the number of people involved, the complexity of the situation whirls around like a maelstrom threatening to engulf everything in that swirling mass...

Words, words, words. Friendship. Relationship. Commitment. Boundary. Loyalty. Simple words. Words in the dictionary. Like chain manacles biting into his wrists.

Curiosity. Oh how it kills. Wanting. How it hurts.

His invincibility days are gone. Humility and cowardice have set in.

The crossroad approaches but he does not know if there is a choice. There may not be one, but simply a path leading to failure.

Every time a decision is made, the pestering word hope creeps in, worming a hole into his heart, setting up residence until evicted. Painfully. A viscious cycle of ejection and re-entry.

Hope. I hate that word. And I hate that story. I prefer the pomegranate seed one.

Saturday, August 2, 2008

The Answer

We all look for it.

Not that many find it.

For me, I realised there is no definite yes or no answer.

Just a haze of if's and maybe's.

How annoying.

The choice has been made.

The complexity is now even worse.

Fucking hell.

Son of a mother freaking goddamn it....

I don't like confusion.