Shattered by Broken Dreams

You know when you're a kid, you're supposed to dream big? "Reach for the stars," they would tell you. And being a trusting child, you would put in colors where the whites used to be, sprinkle glitter where ordinary lay, grew skyscrapers where picket fences stood their ground. Everything was glorious, everything was resplendent, everything could be beautiful; your dreams were as grandiose as your imagination could be.

And then you grew up. They tell you to stop dreaming, because it's not real. "This is reality," they said. It's not how you envisaged it. Things that were once exquisite, now rub against you rough. The places that were once a sanctuary, are overruled with bedlam. The things that once brought you exultation, now only brings forth melancholy. What happened to those dreams, the dreams that you tucked deep inside the pocket of your cheek, like the fortune in a Chinese cookie?

So what do you do then? Do you fight for what you want, even though there's that very real chance that you might fail? Do you pick up the pieces that they have managed to chip off from you, and just walk away with the burden of failure riding heavy on those weary shoulders? Or do you just pick the coward's way out, by picking the road often taken, picking the safe rather than the potentially rewarding?

I am standing in the middle of this crossroad, and the one road that I most want to take, the road that would take me Back, is not an option. What does that leave me with?

I can't believe that this is happening all over again. I shouldn't have let myself dream. Nothing hurts more than believing in your dream, and then having the whole thing burn down around you like a cabin in the Indian summer. I believed in my dream so much that I could almost taste it... It nearly became tangible, something corporeal. Something that I could say "I can live with this for the rest of my life, and be happy knowing that it was the best times I've ever had."

But see, the thing is: Dreams are not real. Dreams can be as lavish as you make them out to be, as wonderful, as sensational, as phenomenal as you want them to be, but in the end, that's all they are. Dreams. They will never become reality, not if you have someone pulling your strings. Controlling you like they are the puppet master, and you, the poorly-crafted marionette. So what can you do?

Dance, puppet, dance. Just dance.

Real World

I'm heading back to KL in a couple more hours' time, and I couldn't be any sadder. It's not that Penang itself is so awesome, it really isn't (except for the really cheap food) but it's just the past four days that I've spent here are some of the best days I've had this year.

It's not the sight-seeing that I've enjoyed, but being able to spend so much time with someone I love, that's the best part. Getting burned under the hot sun, sweating bucket loads while waiting for the bus, walking from one point to the other, going to landmarks and taking goofy pictures, eating Panda biscuits and hearing our laughter bounce off everything... Those are the memories I wish I could pull out of my mind and revisit them again.

The best part was making a split decision to visit the beach. Walking along the invisible line where the ocean melts into the sand, our feet being tickled by the warm foamy water and sand giving way under the pressure, yelping as the waves crashed around our legs and getting the bottom of our shorts wet and finally just sitting on the log conveniently placed half-buried in the sand and watching the sun set and paint the sky pink, purple, orange and red, that was when I realized that that would be what I miss most when I leave. The serenity, the assurance of something familiar, the feeling of contentment, the good fortune of loving and being loved, the fleeting chance to escape velocity, to leave the real world behind.

Aquí es donde me enamoré de nuevo con ustedes.

Here is where I've found the most happiness in a while. I got rid of reality for a while, where I could be whoever I want under the cloak of anonymity. Here, I realized how liberating it is to just forget about reality for a while, and live in the moment. Here, I got in touch with my feelings again, remembering how potent they can be, instead of stealing scattered moments.

Isn't that what life is about? I've been so busy chasing the future, planning what to do in the next minute, the next hour, the next day that I've forgot that what counts most is being in the present and feeling. Just feeling.

And now, I don't want to go back to the real world.

And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow.
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now.

Rapid Hope Loss

When did everything become so hard? What happened to those times when I could just smile and laugh and be happy? How did everything that felt so right, suddenly became so wrong? What went wrong where?

All these things that's happening at home is already making me feel bad. I feel so guilty for making everyone worry about me. I know what I did was wrong, I should have thought things through. And my brother and I are still in this cold war thing and it's making me feel so lonely at home. I can't tell my parents anything because whatever I do is wrong to them, and now I don't even have my brother to comfort me when I know I've screwed up and need someone to be on my side to help me fight my fight. I know the kid's has never had my best interest at heart, but at least I could count on him to cheer me up whenever my parents put me down. We used to spend hours on end just hanging out, but he's changed so much and so have I and I miss the times when things used to be easy and there were hardly any secrets between us and we had each other's backs. But all that's gone now; we've grown up and grown apart and I miss the old us.

And now my parents look at me with all that distrust and anger in their eyes and there's nothing I can do to change that because it's my fault, it's all my fault and I was just too damn proud to admit that I've messed up.

And I just realized that I am on my last chance to do well for school and I really really need to do really well to boost up my GPA or I won't be able to get into the school that I want to and it's suddenly putting a lot of pressure on me and right now I'm just breaking apart as things around me are falling apart and I don't know what to do to fix it and I don't know how and all I want to do is just sleep and hope it all goes away when I wake up. Everything I touch just turns to ashes and I'm so sick of always being the one who messes up and have everyone else clean up my mess.

I just wish for once I would be able to do something right and make the people around me proud of me, proud to be associated with me. I wish I wasn't such a mess.

Song For You

How do you even begin to talk about the guilt, the shame, the anger you feel towards yourself for being such a selfish jackhole? Maybe if I had been a little less self-centered, a little more understanding, I would not have ended up hurting the person I love more than anything or anyone in the world.
Do you know how it feels to hear the voice on the other end of the line apologizing for something they think they've done when it should have been you getting on your knees to beg for forgiveness?
Do you know how it feels to hear the voice on the other end of the line breaking from crying, the very same tears that you were supposed to stop from flowing, the very tears that you were never even supposed to cause?
Yeah, feels shitty doesn't it.