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Absence makes the heart fonder... or out of sight, out of mind? ...or is it more of a per case basis?

Some people will never fade away, even when separated by a great distance, but are able to just pick up from where you left off. That makes the equation something like: number of years spent building up a bond = number of years not needing to have any form of contact to maintain, divided by 2.2 (just to make it seem not so far fetched and based on nothing coz math is involved).

For arguments' sake, this is likely more applicable should the duration not cross too many 'transitional markers', i.e. high school to college, college to working life, working life to marriage, etc. This reduces the likelihood of a change in character and/or priorities, etc - bottom line no drastic changes in the person.

then there are the 'idealistic bonds' - short term, more exciting, more entertaining friendships that need constant attention to maintain. Do the feelings of mini-disconnections attribute to the fact that the bond hasn't reached it's highest level, or does it simply mean that a person is wired that way?

I guess whichever category holds more true to you is just a reality check... a point of reference. What you choose to do about it is what ultimately counts.

stranger amongst strangers

Ever felt so disconnected from a crowd that used to be so familiar? It promptly urges you to seek out connections in exchange for a sense of comfort. Makes for a testament for those who would take bonds between another for granted - as it always takes more to keep it, or nurture it to a level where it becomes resilient to fading.

The warm night, void of breeze and the starless sky just reminds me of how many bonds have been severed, scarred or faded. And to cling to the ones that I hold dear to me.

just another half-a-footstep more

Well, what did you see? Really, when you stare into that distance... when that slight shift in your gaze seem to connect to a place unreachable by me. If I asked would you tell me honestly? If I ran would you find me willingly? I could say it but you won't believe me. I could smile but it wouldn't deceive you. A mirror, no matter how shattered or broken, would still reflect because it does. Or are you coated with a non-reflective substance that you use to shield that surface?

Does this ground seem to be made out of emotional tiles - the kind of material that makes you wonder if it's able to withstand your weight, or disintegrate - making every single step a gamble. You would think you've gone as far as you will ever get... but the horizon stretches, kinda like how the line where the sky and the sea meets on a calm day at the beach - but you're not sure if it's actually the edge of the earth or a seemingly infinite landscape. But you still press on anyway.

Why then? Because a road like this would either lead you to the most beautiful place you could ever imagine, or set you up for one of the biggest plunges you would ever take? Because you can't turn your back on it without just 2 little words haunting your lifetime... 'what if?' Or because you just know. Because a little bird told you so.

Glass Memories

Can you remember when was the last time you've been in a place like this?
Sometimes it seems like it was a place that existed once upon a time, locked inside a silver bird cage within a drawer up somewhere within that bulimic mind of yours - or just maybe, it was intentionally rigged to be overlooked, automated to be forgotten?

Will this time be different? Layers of glass hands on the walls menacingly beckon - daring you to walk past them. This is when, logic prompts you to back off - the self-preserving mechanism against wounds that may refresh. Till you realize that it's a bigger mistake not even going there.

No, not this time. Stupid or not, it's not the gentle tugging that drives you forward; it's an intense yearning - a need and a longing... taking that step. Because it's you.

little strings

when in the face of seemingly impossible odds, and things can't get any worse than they already are, would you be one to just pin the blame on luck? if lady luck actually had a real profession, it would probably be client servicing - coz you just get blamed for whatever. that's just the way it is.

Question is, how far can a person venture in making this idea an integral aspect of your life? To a certain extend it's comparable to embracing the sheer randomness of things - just that it doesn't sound as mystical if you put it that way. If a continuous string of crappy incidents were spun like a web all around you till you look like you're related to Tutankhamun will eventually just, well fully envelop you from head to toe. and then what?

There's kinda nowhere else to go from rock bottom anyway. but what if, the threshold of what rock bottom is for a person is defined by the person themselves? In saying this, it's decided by when you want to put a foot down and decide that this is, where you are, rock bottom. And then all of a sudden your wrapping gets torched by a stray flint. goddamnit, lady.

karmic retribution

if you a chance to define the laws that govern the human society, would you then be able to discern the reasons behind all our dark, selfish persuits. it would seem everyone is somehow on a solo crusade to fill the hollow parts of their lives- with each passing filler a weaker echo than the last. this riduculous theatre of ridicule is then just a spectacle for the amusement of another actor rehearsing the same tired script. bound by the same strain of mire. and it would typically go something like this:

i, with the sand-papered heart,
who carries a 'get out of jail' card,
i, the self-exiled in fear,
who sheds petals of hostility,
on the paths of those who would venture too near,
would you come to dislike me, if you knew who i could be?
or crown me with a black halo, for everyone to see?

photogenic... and 'perso-genic'?

in a conversation today, the topic about being photogenic cropped up. (sorry, nothing to do with the image above, and not this conversation either. that is just there so that people will know that mel really looks like kok in real life, and she's scamming people.)

anyway, the point is, there isn't quite a surface formula to gauge a person's personality, or rather traits that define a character (physiognomy isn't very accurate). just by one glance. there are no lenses that could pierce our beings and see right through us. what if faces could be peeled away, revealing a whirling mass of 'personality'? would you look away in horror or stare transfixed by a beauty that surpasses our skins? what would you look like, and would you like what you see?