The Hiatus

I know you
And love you.
But you do not see me.
And so, I sleep.
Until you are able to see.
I sleep.
Even for an eternity.

I had a strange dream
Of you and I dancing in a strange town.
I, ever careless of what I’ve seen
That your face and heart are none.

We leave.
Into eternal sleep.
Going down.
Ever down.
Until we reach eternity.

We all leave.
For we all sleep.

Yet there are some of us
That live before they leave.
And breathe the breaths
Of the air that other people exhale.

They, too, need to sleep.
So, they leave.
Yet when they leave
They really leave.

Unlike some of us
That die each day
Before we leave
And never live.
And so when we die
We don’t really die.
For you can’t die
When you’re already dead.

Being one of them
I tried to live.
And breathe the air
That your chest breathes.
Yet you close your mouth
And then your nose.
Like as if wanting
To not want me to live.

You could’ve saved me
From this eternal cycle
Of wanting and needing
But dying and leaving.
For you could’ve held my hand.
And I could’ve held yours.
We could’ve died together.
Never leaving each other.

Your voice calls out that name
Of named age, filthy, decaying!
That name which is beauty itself
As heard from the recesses of my own blood.

But you are not my blood!
Not my flesh, filthy, decaying!
You are beauty itself
Beauty that I pray I am not forsaken.

I know: how can you love
A corpse, filthy, decaying!
Devoid of any beauty
Even that which is from you be found.

So, all I get is this:
A named age, filthy, decaying!
That you pound in my chest with such beauty
That I start shivering with pleasure or pain.

So, all I get is die:
Or breathe a breath, filthy, decaying!
Recycled from the beauty of your nose
While you glutton over his chest.

So, all I am is filthy, decaying:
A name, filthy, decaying!
A love, filthy, decaying!
Filthy through my skin
Decaying from my lips
I hate my name, I hate my name
I hate chasing, I hate my knees
Why can I not just hate you
And be done with this?

This is barely enough.
But I think that you are:

You are a momental accident of beauty, grace and subtlety.
That, without seeing, without even divining.
Like as if you are blooming without the sun.
Exploding to your fire-like color without the sky.

Depressing over your state.
You lurk into your little garden.
Where everywhere is your fragrance.
Where anywhere is your fleeting tears.

But you need not hold your legs with your full arms.
You will be alright.
For pretty flowers born on the month of flowers are always blessed.
I only wish I could be part of your fate.

If beauty is the summation of the parts working together
in such a way that nothing needs to be added, taken away or altered, then I need not be added to you.  Yet man needs beauty to be complete.  Hence, I need you.

Preface:  Okay, so I’m a little bit stealing here.  Not "stealing" per se, but using a work without permission (I still think that infinite things cannot be stolen).  This is from the "Comments and Testimonials" of a big character in this book I call "life".  And as much as I hate it, this is from a different person meant to be read by the former person.  I just reaped it off because it fits.  Why didn’t I ask the latter person for credit, then?  Because I’d rather infringe than … (censored).  Plus, I’m hesitant if the latter did really create this or if this is the work of another (’coz I’m familiar with this thing’s last words).

Every once in a while when we’re sitting in silence,
I’ll just watch you doing whatever it is you’re doing.
I try to look at you as long as I can,
and I’m praying you don’t look up and catch me.
when I look at you, my mind goes blank.
the only thing that goes through my head is the picture of your wonderful face.
sometimes when you’re talking to me,
I don’t hear what you’re saying because I get lost in your eyes.
I have to force myself to pay attention.
It’s hard, but I manage.
Sometimes it makes me sad to watch you.
Only because I sometimes feel that I’ll never be able to have you,
hold you,
or take care of you.
Not even for a little while.
But I try not to remind myself of that.
It only makes things worse.
But that’s life,
you know how that goes.
So for now, I’m just going to keep on watching…
Longing for you through worlds… worlds…

How do I start this?  It really is useless to write about someone.  When you would like to let that someone know about what you’ve written about her.  But you really, really know that she wouldn’t even read about what you’ve written.  Because she doesn’t care.  Or doesn’t like you.  Or is disturbed because of you (just your imagination, of course :).  Might as well tell her yourself, ayt?  Opps, that’s a stupid thought.  You wouldn’t even have a blog with things like these written in it if you were that brave.  Then again, you’re just useless.  And your feelings too.  We’re all useless; me and you.

Okay, I’m digressing quite far (and quite crazy with the second-person referral to myself too).  On with the stupid entry:

I’m just soooo jealous.  So friggin’ly, unreasonably, sh*ttingly jealous.  About whom?  Hmmm…

First off, with him (pointing to that person that I’ve known for about 4 years now).  Yeah, he’s cool.  Ummm, maybe he’s too cool.  I really don’t know; trust me, I’ve spent many nights just thinking about he’s apparent (by overwhelming evidence) superiority to much of my faculties (not all of course).  I hate dancing with him and always trying to be his par.  I hate looking at all the faces in front screaming his name until I breathe-in their souls (they’re his friends, by the way; he’s just too friendly :).  Of course, I hate the smell of their souls.  In short, I don’t want anything to do with them.  I just hate them, because of him.  So, okay.  He’s cool.  In a way that annoys me.  So, I envied him.  One mortal sin down.  I only envied him, up until recently.  You see, she likes him.  At least, a bit.  I don’t know.  Maybe just a teeny-tiny bit.  A tad bit, if you please.  Just, point at hand, I don’t know.  I don’t know her mind.  This is just me being stupid.  Regardless of reason, it jarred me.  Like as if the sky is falling down on me.  Like as if I’m so useless and that my nose is inside my head and I’m breathing my blood in.  All the flowers died.  I’m suddenly colorblind.  Needless to say (but I’m saying it anyway), I didn’t like it.  So, then, I’m not only envious, I’m also jealous of him.  They’re indistinguishable sometimes.  But that doesn’t stop me from telling them apart.  I’m okay today though.  Just a matter of forgetting, perhaps?

Second, him (pointing to that other person I’ve known for about 4 years now also).  He’s a magnet (of everything).  That mortal sin again and that other thing that’s almost the latter’s synonym.  Why?  Because he’s got a text message from her that I wanted to send myself to her.  I thought that was quite unique; kinda reflected my predicament.  Yeah, It didn’t feel good.  One sin after another.  Now, again, I’m okay with it.  I’ve forgotten.

Third, that person (pointing to another).  I think she likes men with good disposition.  I’m no good in those things.  I’m no good in anything you gain by birthright.  Plus, he’s fun to be with.  She smiles thinking of him.  I frown thinking of them both.  Forgotten.

Fourth, you see that person with trendy hair and a twisted smile?  Him also.  I just heard of something.  Nothing really.  Probably, just misheard.  But I can’t shake off that same nausea-like feeling.  Damn it; there better be no afterlife!

Fifth, that one looking at me (pointing to a person with evenly-applied "black eye" on both eyes).  They look close.  I think I’ve known her longer than they did each other.  You know, that level of closeness where you start sharing things (both literal and figurative).  I can’t breathe.  Stop doing that.  You’re not the only one who’s alone.  I keep telling myself this: we all are!  Stop your whining and yapping and showing!  You don’t have to tell EVERYBODY you want to tell.  You’re just tooo indulgent of yourself.  "Rescue me!!!  I’m falling into oblivion!  Ah!"  Stop it.  Geez.  She also is.  You’re too selfish.  I’m trying to forget (this is just recent).

Sixth, him (pointing to her bosom).  Nothing new here.  No forgetting.  I mustn’t forget.  Still, he’s choking me through her hands.  And laughing and gluttoning in my suffering while doing it.  And ignoring and exerting no effort while doing it.  Both at the same time.  Everything in my mind.  Everything in this part of my mind I call "heart".  I could sedate myself many times.  I could hurt myself many times.  I could fill myself with her sweet pleasures many times.  I could indulge myself with her smiles many times.  I could create her a million of times in my mind.  But I could never escape his reality.

Last, all the rest of you.  For she smiles for you like she smiles for me.  She laughs for you like she laughs for me.  She thinks of us all equally.  Like a deity that watches over her worshiping creatures.  I’m only one of them.  Worshiping with zealous pleasure.  Never flying up to kiss her cheeks.  Never having enough arms to wrap her around my chest.  She belongs to a god.  A god that I disdain.  I god that I envy.  All this talk of eternity, oblivion, death and punishment are irrelevant.  Nothing is more than the life of her breath, the warmth of her bosom and smell of her presence.