Psychic Warrior

More than a week has passed since my last blog entry. It feels like a year to me, and I am scarred from my most recent battle. I have not spoken much about my inner turmoil to anyone, and right now I doubt that I will ever open my heart once more. The tendrils of ice have begun to curl around my form once more, and even the thought of my closest and dearest friends cannot thaw me. I booked out of camp on Saturday, and as I sat on the stone bench and waited for my parents, I came to the conclusion that I stand alone against the world. Yes, there may be people who care about me, who can provide me with shelter, temporary relief against the storms of my life, but in the end, I fight this war alone, and I fight it for me. It sounds cold when I put it that way, but as I examined my soul thoroughly, I came to realise that yes, I am a cold person. I wouldn't say that I care only about my piano, but Yammy comes first, above all else. No warrior would fight a halfhearted battle, and I will see this to the end. Victory has become meaningless; what matters is that I die with valour and great courage. It has been ingrained in me that winning isn't everything, and grace in defeat is worth much, much more than triumphant arrogance. I owe it to the people who have helped me thus far to continue fighting, and not give up halfway. Should I fall, I will rise again, and I will keep fighting until I end this war. Heed my words, I will not live forever under another's thumb. I have managed to avert disaster simply by trusting in my own good luck, but as I calm this particular storm, I must remember that there are forces greater than myself, and that any warrior worth his salt must have enough grace to withdraw when overwhelmed. Live to fight another day. All wars were won with massive armies, men who trusted one another in battle. I am one man, and I will never trust another person, but my blades are sharp and my spirit pure. When it comes down to it, I will not run from this war that I am in. I will finish it without taking the shortcuts that are available to me. Say what you will, but I am cunning, and I am a master manipulator. There are invisible threads that allow me to subtly control my fate, but for now...I will not evade this fight; my greatest battle. For most of my life, I have been at war with demons from within. Faced with the biggest challenge of my life, I ask myself...do I take the cowardly route and run, escaping a fate worse than death, or do I fight till the very end? My blades whisper as they slide against each other, and the answer springs forth from the deepest recesses of my heart. I will fight this monster all the way. A thousand men have been in the same place as I. I am not the first, and I will not be the last. Men have fought and fallen, a few have risen to glory and some have been disgraced because they could not bear the pressure of being a warrior. I know this war will be long, and difficult. No one said it would be easy; in fact, when I discussed it with my close friends, I was told to take the easy option of weaseling out. But above all, I value men with integrity and valour, and I will honour my commitment to this war. I will stand by these men, defend them if neccessary, and we shall fight together, even if I do not trust them. I watch my own back, I am responsible for my own life and those that I take, and as I cut each fine thread that connects me to another flower in the garden of life, I whisper my heart's misery to the winds. I have been alone for most of my life, and now I have experienced the full spectrum of human emotions, and I am complete. I say a quiet thank you to those who have helped me grow from a quiet little shadow into a strong, fierce warrior. As I march into battle with these young men, knowing that we will be fighting side by side, I draw strength from the knowledge that should I fall in battle, I will not die needlessly. I gave my word that I would not fail them, and my very presence in the battlefield proves that I honour my promise. I am prepared. If I die, know that I die with grace and valour...and most of all, love.
I have decided.

Psychic Incarceration

Looking around, quietly walking through this space where I have lived for the past three years, I whisper a soft goodbye to everything that I love and cherish. Tonight the facade of chilly indifference melts away as I face the prospect of leaving behind everything that has made up my world. The Night beckons to me, imploring me to dance with her court attendants, the Winds and the bejeweled Stars. Saying goodbye to everything, to my gardens, to my piano, to my writings, my large castle and its accompanying grounds, but most importantly, I've said goodbye to my freedom. No more running wild under the heavens, letting the winds soothe me whenever I felt pressured. I am nervous, and frightened. But intermingled with my fear and anxiety is another stronger emotion: determination. This is when I'll face up to my flaws and work to correct them. This is when I'll prove to my two dads that I have grown up and that I am capable of living my own life. This is it. I have smsed R that I am leaving, told him that I have finally accepted his decision. He doesn't have to reply, and I know that after our most recent fight and his final cryptic message, he won't anymore. Deep breaths of my final moments of freedom, before I find myself away from the things I love; my last hours are flying past mercilessly. The messages from all my loved ones have helped to ease the sorrow of parting, and even the Night appears to be sighing softly in response to my imminent departure. The scotch bottle is finally empty...and as I drain the last drops from the Big Gulp cup, I hope it will knock me out enough for me to get some rest before I begin my life in hell. No matter what, dads, despite our differences and past histories, I hope that my stoic acceptance of the facts of life will make you proud of me. I will march through the gates of the underworld with my head held high as I whisper a prayer to Gabriel to watch over me.

Despite all the theatrics, I'll be back. :P Expect a bitchy post in a week's time. Enjoy the picture. I know I will. *winks*

Dark Mess

It is nice to have the black veil of night to obscure the ruins around me. Under the harsh light of day, the destruction I have wrought upon my kingdom is magnified a hundredfold. I walked through the cold corridors as the dark clouds shielded me from the heat of the morning sun. Even now my domain remains damp and dim, just the way I like it. The breezes are colder, razoring across the fields and warning everything attuned to them of the oncoming thunderstorm. My eyes have turned puffy from lack of sleep, but my energy is still on high. I have allowed the poisons in me to accumulate, and suddenly I am reminded once more of the sensitivity of my veins. They have begun to sting slightly, but the pain isn't overwhelming. I am unconcerned with earthly matters at the moment; most of my attention is fixed on the dark clouds above. I see two, three rays of sunlight piercing through the clouds. More shafts are lancing their way towards the earth, and I'm holding my breath, hoping the wounds in my clouds will close and heal. It is a lost cause. More ragged rips are appearing, and the clouds are losing their fight against the mighty fires of the sun. *sighs* I am nearly incandescent with energy, powerful enough to rival the sun. The sandman has abandoned me, but I am not surprised. He was always a treacherous ally, and today I will have to suffer the unchecked heat of the sun if the thunderclouds fail me, since I cannot sleep the discomfort away. I think the clouds will hold for a little while longer. Not the powerful thunderstorm I would have liked, but a steady drizzle that will make the day grey, wet and cold. I would have preferred black, windy and freezing but oh well. Talking about the weather appears to have soothed me. The most recent wounds I sustained have begun to heal, and the memories have begun to fade. I fought to save my kingdom, but in the end I was overwhelmed by powers greater than my own. There is no point in having anything that is less than perfect, therefore I razed whatever still stood after the latest attack. I have grown to mirror the mood of the weather, and right now I am cold and uncaring. Whatever else I may say or do, these two attributes best describe me right now. Anything else is but an illusion only the greatest can see through. This is my decision. To hold everyone else away from the dark mess that is hidden behind my facade of uncaring nonchalance. I drift along on the winds, seemingly ignorant to the fact that the world is moving everyone else along a much faster pace, but I know I don't have much time left. I have not been able to breathe freely these past few days, but I am skilled in the art of lying, even to myself. Whenever my heart skipped a beat, I gave a mental shrug and ignored the pain that radiated through my chest. The toxins linger on in my systems, and things nearly came to a head last night when the air thickened around me. I could not breathe, and I could feel my head getting lighter. The edges of my vision began to blacken before I fought back my body's desire for unconsciousness. These things, I can only ever write about them. Battles always leave me drained and susceptible to poisonous influences. The sun has begun to burn through the last of the clouds, and it is leaching the last of my strength from me. I am weary and worn down to the bone, and even my own deep hibernation yesterday (12 hours of sleep, mark you) isn't enough. I cannot bring myself to crawl into my corner. Perhaps I'll allow myself to rest on the sofa for once. I've only ever slept on it twice. Today's writing seems to be rather fragmented, even for me. The diluted sunlight that reaches me is like acid on my eyes. My eyes are falling closed, and a light sweat has dewed my temples. The last time I was this tired was...*tries to remember* Back in school. I finally collapsed on the stairs, and of course it just so happened that the English teacher I was crushing on was right behind me. The Fates are known to be tricky. *sighs* I am an internal mess today. It shows, spilling out from inside me to influence the physical space which I inhabit. The darkness is fading, and suddenly the cesspool looks filthier, even to my twisted eyesight. Speaking of eyesight, I have to remember to go down to the optician to collect that godawful pair of specs I absolutely abhor. *looks Heavenward* Oh come on, it's a sucky day, let's just have an allout thunderstorm already! Complete everyone else's vision of major suckiness. I'll be the one dancing in the wild fields as the winds cut through the air like chilled blades. *sigh* Ah, they never did listen to me anyway. I think I'll lie face down in my corner and not move until the heat finally dissipates from the air. If I sit here a minute longer I swear I'll burst into flames. I wish the sun came with temperature control. I have a 4pm date with my old Challen. I love Yammy to bits, but I want to see how the Challen survived the move and its independence from me. Ok. I've rambled on enough, spewed a load off my chest, and now I'm really going to try and get some sleep. Really.
Hide my mess from the world, and I'll take care of the rest.

Psychic Emanations (-)

I know what's happening. It is my personal automatic defense mechanism, but for once I am fighting against my own defenses. I walked down to my stone ledge, and allowed the storm to soothe my frazzled nerves. Now, hours later, I am still chilled but much calmer. The storm has lightened to a slight drizzle, but the winds remind me of their playful presence by swirling through the trees outside my window. Few people know that I am very particular about emotions, and the mental repercussions of strong emanations. For the same reason that I refuse to walk into a hospital, I also refuse to allow the taint of another's feelings to flow into the spaces that I have marked as my own. It is a terribly damning thing to have my defenses up and running all the time, not to mention taxing. As I sat on the stone notch, my mind reminded me again how susceptible I am to the emotions of others. I cannot find it in me to deny my father his latest request, nor can I find it in my heart to ditch D once again, nor can I refuse my mum her request for me to come home, just for a while. If I close my eyes I can see all the different colours pulsing around me, representing all that I feel, and I know instinctively that over half of what my mind sees isn't mine. My eyes have begun to turn red, and my temper has begun to flare. How does one walk into a hospital without wincing? I feel my veins writhe in agony whenever I approach the stark white facade of a hospital building. How do I feel what is only mine? I cannot for the life of me comprehend why I drift off on occasion, often coming back panicked and amnesiac. I know my eyes are open, I know where I am...but that knowledge, and also the knowledge of who I am, and everything else is immediately rendered insignificant in the few seconds that I am stilled. Think. Visualise that the entire universe is a vast spiderweb of connected destinies, then perhaps some among us have the capacity to transcend beyond the threads that are tied to them, to see the bigger picture that most don't even know exists. I don't know. It's just an idle thought that struck me. I have many of them. Idle thoughts, I mean. My head is beginning to ache, and I feel frustrated with everyone and everything around me. Why is there no manual for these things? Why isn't there anyone who can explain my eccentricities when even I fail to understand myself? I cannot sleep tonight because I am feeling too much. It all gets muddled around me, in me, and I cannot bear to close my eyes because then I feel as though I'm falling into an endless pit. It is very unsettling, trust me. I haven't felt this in a long time. Invisible hands are closing around my throat, cutting off my air. I can't breathe. I can't breathe! For some people, the realm of the physical takes precedence over everything else. When they do brush against the world of the supernatural, it is only to pray to a God they only half-believe in or have been persuaded to pay obeisance to. Why can't I be like that? I want to be blissfully ignorant of the realities beyond what I can see. I want to stop feeling the constrictions in my heart when I see the black touch of death around me, whether it is a snail crushed on the pavement, or the bloodied remains of a carwreck victim. What is the difference between the two? A human life is mourned with grand funerals and the like, yet who would even spare the shattered shell of the dead snail a second glance? I've learned enough in my childhood to know that to be different meant that you were singled out from the rest. In this world of conformists, that's not a good thing. Everyone has to be exact clones, all armed with diplomas and degrees, expected to marry, work hard, have children, help over-populate the earth, and then expire with great ceremony. There are times when I think I am...well, certifiable for feeling such inexpressible sadness over the most trivial things. I was always the odd one in the family. I am frightened that the illusions of normalcy I have woven around myself will be displaced when I find myself smack in the middle of a group of strangers. There is a reason why I abhor crowds, why I dislike seeing my flaws enlarged when placed next to impeccably normal teenagers. There is a reason for all my enigmatic quirkiness. I cry over dying trees, and I feel something stir in my heart when I caress a wilting leaf, and I weep tears of joy at the vibrancy of a healthy tree. The rich green colour is enough to bring me to tears. Yet recently these emanations have washed over me largely unnoticed. Until tonight. The force of the realisation slammed into me when I sat on my stone notch and reflected, crystalline drops of rain falling onto my skin. Maybe it was the rain. Or maybe it was the realisation that no matter how much I try to conform, my values and philosophies are radically different from the people around me. This, perhaps, is the root of all my problems. After publishing this post, I wouldn't be surprised if I got carted off to a mental asylum in the days to come. I want it to cease, stop, wither and die away. I want to be able to walk through a crowd without wincing inside, or getting a gigantic headache. I want to be able to trust. The memories are rushing back. My insomnia is an unpleasant reminder of the days when I couldn't sleep in the presence of other people, my entire family included. I couldn't sleep on the bed. I would either crawl under it, or into the cupboard. Only then would I feel calm enough to sleep, and even then the dark nightmares would torment me. If I could excise the part of me that is causing me such grief, I would do so in a heartbeat. As it is, I fear I am condemned to forever cry secretly over dead snails and dying trees. It still surprises me that no one else is inclined to wander through the gardens when it is storming, to feel the winds and listen to Nature as she rages away at mankind for the layer of filth we lace over her world. Something has been unlocked in me tonight, and I have found that the memory of knowing myself to be different is still enough to move me to tears. I cannot understand why I am crying. Maybe it is because I came so close to being normal. I've never had that before. It's like part of me is still a quiet child, still carrying a battered notebook around to record what I could see, to record why I thought people would laugh, would love, how they could express themselves so freely. The realisation that I may never trust another person completely is excruciating. I have lost some of my natural wariness. I can even sleep with someone else present, even though sometimes I wake in cold sweat from the fear. I can be touched now, and I don't flinch anymore when someone else grabs me. The only friends I ever had when I was a kid were either in my imagination or the felines that would sit with me for hours, purring contentedly. I owe Bastet a great debt, if she truly exists. I was never normal, and it cuts me now to know that I will never be normal. How do I define normal? Well, for once...I want to know what it's like to have friends as a kid, not sexual partners. I want to be able to express myself freely, not just through impersonal mediums. I want to change my past, to change my self, I want people to stop thinking that I'm weird. Am I? *wonders* Even now, I still retain traces of who I used to be. It is difficult for me to initiate a conversation with people I don't know and therefore do not trust. Perhaps I just distrust men in general, because it appears I can speak freely with women. The tears have ceased, and breathing has become slightly less laboured. Still, I do not want to lie down and allow the corruption of such sanctity to defile my subconscious further. I wish my mind came with an On/Off switch. I have been typing furiously, releasing years and years of pent up frustrations, and maybe it's time people got to know me a bit better, because I'm tired of having to keep everyone at hand's length all the time. I give up. My dad has not given me any reason to trust him anymore, and to quote him, "Everything that begins will end." Great ripoff, dad. I've decided that I'm going to spend the last few days of freedom I have in quiet solitude. Really, all I have right now is Yammy. This castle where I reside...it is not mine. One last nugget of information I have been withholding...I need security above all else. I need a place to stay where no one can throw me out, and I only realised how attached I'd grown to this place when I was asked to relinquish my key. It stung. Always the illusionist, I chirped out a cheerful 'ok' while tending to my wounds in silence. If nothing else, maybe this will force me to get a place of my own, where I am lord and master and I don't have to worry about anything else except myself. I cannot see anyone right now. I think I've been too open, and I cannot survive in the sea of humanity without my usual protections. The edges of my aura are darkening to an absolute black, and I feel the pressure in my chest increase as I realise that I have no desire to see my dad today. He betrayed my trust. They all do in the end.

Psychic Howl

The night is wild, and the winds are howling through the trees. The slightly metallic tang of electricity reaches me on the winds that curl around my form, and in the distance the dark skies are briefly illuminated with flashes of lightning. I can scarcely sit still in anticipation of the coming storm. I will not sleep. I cannot. I do not know how much longer I can stand as a free man and watch such storms unfold before my mortal eyes. My time is limited. But with the remaining time I have left, I will spend every waking hour marveling at the beauty inherent in the creations of Nature. When the storm descends, I will fling open every door and window to welcome it, and I will not hold back the joy that I feel as the winds rush towards me. My soul howls along with the storm, even though my physical self is still and silent. Stormy days are everything I could ever want. Cold, dark, wet. *bounces excitedly* I can't wait for it to storm! It is so wonderfully cleansing and empowering! I used to go up to the highest floor in my primary school and watch quietly as the storm Gods sang their ancient songs to the world. *wistful* The times of innocence...I think I'll take a long stroll along the darkened gardens and listen to the winds.

Psychic Shortsightedness

I toddled off to the optician, and hey! Got me some godawful specs that I will never use on my days off. Ahem. I have been blasting Within Temptation's The Heart Of Everything. Open up your eyes! I swear the Gods of irony are laughing their heads off at me. I could barely see where I was going. -_- Apparently my eyesight has worsened. It went up by another 50 degrees for both eyes. >.< So anyway...I have decided to drop by my parents' new house next week. Meh. I'm still going to help my dad move his things tomorrow. FUN! *grimaces* I wonder what the new arrangement will be like. I do like the freedom that I enjoy here; I'm free to roam the night as and when I please.
We'll see how things go. Speaking of arrangements! Yammy and I are pissed. It's official, we hate jackhammers. I mean that literally, no innuendoes intended. It's difficult to rearrange my scores when they keep blasting their tools right under my window. *sigh* I think I've gone deaf. But it doesn't matter...I've been so happy lately! Thunderstorms every other day! *grins* And last week, it was storming for an entire day! *beams* I love this period. The winds have died down somewhat at this point, having exhausted themselves. But it's ok. They'll be back tomorrow!
I'm hungry. *bares fangs* I have a new resolution! I must not bite people. *solemn* Someone went home with bruises all over yesterday. Ah well. They'll heal in time, baby. *winks* Now I have to go get dressed. My aunt wants to go grocery shopping, and it'll be a great opportunity for me to perfect my deathglares on the annoying jackhammer-people downstairs. I mean...SERIOUSLY! Six straight hours of constant drilling and yelling...it's enough to test the patience of a saint, I tell you. I've been crossing mental fingers for another thunderstorm soon. *excited* I can see lightning in the skies!
And...andand! I've seen my mum's new house! It's a two-storey terrace with the most amazing bay windows! My sister's room is huge! *disappointed* I only realised I got the short end of the stick after happily telling Yushaa about my room. After gleefully telling her how proud I was of my choice, I began describing the room. "It...has no windows." Second thoughts began to take root. "It doesn't have an aircon unit...." I stopped talking and began to panic. "It doesn't have anything!" And Yushaa, being ever so supportive, muttered, "Sucker!" under her breath .......Yeah. My amazing shortsightedness applies to more than just physical sight, apparently. And to think that I was so happy about the room I'd chosen! *dies* I don't care, I'm switching with my sister. Haha! Hey, what's the point of having younger siblings if you don't push them around? =P
Anyway...I'm off. Going to buy dinner, haven't quite decided what I want. I'm not putting my contacts on, and I'm going to be walking around the coffeeshop half-blind. *sighs* I hope I don't bump into anyone and get hot soup down my pants, since I've also decided not to put on any undies. =P Until next week! When the doors to a new era open! =D
Have I mentioned that I love storms? Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain!

Psychic Healing

The clouds have unleashed their burden, and it seems to me that my secret wish for a powerful, uber thunderstorm has been granted. It stormed for hours today, and I felt soothed as the winds roared through the trees. It is a rare privilege to men to see Nature in all her unbridled glory. At times I fancied the deluge of water would drown the entire island. The rain came down in torrential sheets, and all my mortal pain and fears melted away. How insignificant such issues become. In less than five minutes, my worries vanished entirely. I was content to close my eyes and listen to the soothing words of Mother Nature as she whispered ancient secrets to all her children. To quote someone, "Water is life!" Heh. Well anyway. Some people like to wax lyrical about the state of the earth after a good thunderstorm. I think it's utter crap. It's humid, the air is so still it's practically dead, and you can't breathe without choking on the swarms of insects yhat begin to emerge from amongst the emerald leaves. I prefer it when the air is thick and heavy with the promise of rain, and I especially like to be out in a powerful thunderstorm. Call me crazy, but hey. I've been called far worse. I tend to think a lot when I'm out walking, so I often take long walks to reflect on the issues that trouble me. I've been told that I walk extremely fast when I'm thinking, and usually I'll find myself miles away from where I started out from. Most of the time I confine my walks/reflections to the reservoir, and recently the winds have been playfully gusting along the paths, distracting me from my thoughts. I can't help but laugh out loud at the joy of living when the winds swirl around my physical form, and if I close my eyes, I can almost imagine that my feet are no longer in contact with the ground. Nature has never failed to heal me, and the monsoon season almost always sees me happy and generally more cheerful. I hardly care that J has broken his promise to me yet again, nor do I care that R has vanished after one last cryptic message to me. I have the winds, constant companions, I have the stars, and quite recently, I have found myself smiling a lot for no particular reason. I do believe that I am no longer a child of 14, regardless of what R says. I have no use for money, or for the trappings of luxury that come with it. As long as I have my piano, a windy residence, thunderstorms, and a garden overflowing with blossoms and flowers of a thousand colours, my heart is at peace. It sounds odd for me to say that, because peace is such a rarity in the cesspool of my life, but for these past few days, I have been quite happy. I hope it storms again tomorrow. I'm going out shopping with the 'rents for my supplies. =) My mum is moving out this Saturday, even though she doesn't want me to know. My dad's wife called me two days ago, asking me if I would like to come over on Sunday and help them move too. Is it just coincidence that both sets of parents are moving out this weekend? I don't know how the family dynamics will change after this, and I don't exactly know where I will be staying for the next two years. I don't mind living with my dad and his wife, but....I don't want to live with my grandma! I just escaped that! :P Eh. I'm beginning to ramble on and on. Sidenote: I love Yammy. I love having a decent conversation with him when it starts to get dark and cloudy, and the haunting melodies begin to weave throughout my dark castle. For this week, I will not worry. Let me be free from all earthly cares, even if just for a while. Things usually pan out anyway. =) Oh! Two cats (I mentally named them Xiao Hei and Xiao Bai) came purring up to me as I was walking towards the gardens this evening. They were soooo affectionate, but it took me quite some time to gain Xiao Hei's trust. I have grown used to this place, have memorised every nook and cranny of the gardens. It will be difficult for me to let go, if I have to move back in with my grandma at her new place, or if I have to go with my dad. My mum's trying her best to be secretive about her plans but I know about them. -_- Anyway, I'm going off to bed now. I feel SO MUCH HAPPIER AFTER THE STORM. Listening to U2 while it rains is really uplifting. Quite a change from the usual 'rainy-day' songs that used to scare the s**t out of Bobby when he was still in Singapore. *grins* Alright. Nightynight, world! =)
With or without you. LOVE THAT SONG. <3