Dear Diary
I had to re-check the calendar thrice to ensure that May has taken the year by storm, and in its place, a fiery debris of memories yet again- how does time travel at such a speed unbeknownst to men? This speed is accursed, unnatural!
Gawdamn.
April was spent chasing books about the 1800s approaching the turn of 1900s - Tracy Chevalier's "Fallen Angels", Charlotte Bronte's "Jane Eyre" , an auto-biography of Lady Caroline Blackwood's life "Dark Muse", and Charles Dickens' "Great Expectations". We always wish we had the fortunes Pip has. We always wished that we could go back in time, to the perfect era, and what would that be? Victorian? The Golden Ages? The Dark Ages? Watching "Midnight in Paris" made me realize that no one would ever be satisfied with their present life; we often wish we could escape to a time we deem perfect, a time which's difficulties we would never know because it may not be accounted for. Lavatories and sanitarian facilities ought to be rather telling. I do hope though, that I have not contracted Sohotis.
Spent partying, dining in celebration of something (quite a fair bit of French and Italian cuisine), tearing off some chapters of my life to refill it with new ones, and yes, working quite hard. Spent attending wakes and hospitalisation visits instead of happier events. Spent listening repeatedly to some songs -
Muse's "Resistance"
Michael Balls' "The Play Must Go On"
Craig Armstrong's "This Love"
Christina Perri's "Jar of Hearts"
Christina Perri's "The Lonely"
Amy Winehouse' "Back to Black"
Raul di Blasio "Barroco"
Yanni's "One Man's Dreams"
Chopped the long waist-length tresses off - goodbye, french braid secured by my Ferragamo clip; goodbye, high ponytail that I love - to a breast-length hair which I'd straightened by re-bonding. Took me a long time to decide, between coloring, perming or rebonding it. I was at the salon from 2000 hrs till 12 midnight - bless the hairstylist.
It frustrates me that I have not been able to be a disciple of the Craft properly all this while.
It frustrates me that I have to resort to legal threats again to resolve a problem. Sometimes kindness can be a cruel joke upon ourselves.
It frustrates me that my poetry submissions to the online journals have been rejected- I'm beginning to think it may be easier getting a book of poetry out.
It frustrates me that I have having cravings for a chocolate found only at Marina Bay Sands - the one with the preserved fruit atop it; and cravings for Whittakers' chocolate bar with the fruit and nut at this unsavory hour.
It frustrates me that my first planned trip was being delayed and subsequently ceased to happen, by the complacency and nonchalance of someone I thought was a friend. The saddest thing is that she does not even seem to regret her own irresponsible actions.
It frustrates me that I have been so accident-prone lately - first I fell and hit my head during the hospitalization period, then I cut my finger one day when I was preparing to make fresh juices (the sight of the blood was gratifying, but the pain was nothing compared to that experienced by my heart), and recently a demostration of toughness (or the bracing of a fall, depending on which version you may choose to revere in) brought about a bruised knuckle. I was just short of splitting it, but its a pain I sought myself. I only wish it had landed on the intended target.
Though, sometimes I believe that (or perhaps, as a consolation to myself), that certain things happen so we may learn to experience the mishaps others been through, to gain compassion and be more understanding, less intolerant and more patient. For instance, I would never have known how it feels like to undergo a semi-concussion or the boredom of a hospital stay, the pain of IV drips. And now, the pain and clumsiness of having to rely one one good hand - it makes me imagine the strength and determination of those who are unfortunate enough to suffer the loss of either limb/organ, and makes me cherish my own health more.
I am looking forward to the upcoming trip in a week's time - lots of interesting food, tea huts in the mountains, perhaps some shopping, and of course, the study of another culture. I love cultural differences, I wish that the erosion hadnt set in with the advancement of technology.
And the *Feith is coming over to town come end May. This I cannot wait, as well. It is always a delight to see her, to make a mess of whatever hotel room she resides in, and to share everything together. My best friend in the entire world. This is also the month to show our gratification to the Mothers.
I went into a deserted estate the other night - partly to explore, partly to take a walk amongst these empty buildings that used to be filled with life an vitality - now they are just waiting to be demolished, along with the energies of their occupants that would never leave the wombs of these apartments. Haunting, perhaps, but it was beautiful, this emptiness, I felt no threat nor fear...
I went for a sprint cum jog the other evening, with thoughts in my mind and a million emotions to fuel whatever energy I lacked. It felt good, after so long. It felt good to charge ahead, to feel the winds caressing my ears, to feel the lands making way for me, and to see nature as it is, again. My calves may hurt after the sprint, but my thoughts were cleared, my anger dissipated, and I felt alot healthier. I ought to do this more often. Sometimes, one wishes they could just run... and run... and run, and never have to look back or trip...
Boring entry, off to trying my abracadabra now. With that, I leave you in the good hands of the Night's caress.... kisses.
Bon nuit, ma cheres
----<----(@
