Dark Bender

The toxic swirl of emotion has left me weakened and on my knees. The silence deafens me, but as I stand on my elevated tower and survey the chaos that I unleashed with these two hands, I feel detached. A tiny part of me wants to salvage what's left, but I know I don't have it in me. The alcohol has left me dizzy, and the emotions that ravaged me has taken whatever I had left. I don't want to keep fighting. Tomorrow I will see if I have any strength left to deal with the consequences. I don't give a shit. It's out of my hands now. If need be, I will call to my aid the great demons of Illusion and It-Never-Happened. My brothers in arms, and they will heed my soft song of regret. *sigh* The night is dark, and my veins are filled with sadness. It was never meant to be, and should anything ripple outward from these events, I have only myself to blame. My heart whispers softly for the night to purge me of the remnants of my shame. When the sun rises, I will try to put things right. And after that...who knows. The darkness has staked a claim upon my immortal soul, and for once, I lay my swords quietly on the ground in silent defeat. I have been defeated at long last, and though my blades are stained with blood, they are also stained with regret, and I have breathed my last in this battle. It is goodbye to my long fight, and perhaps now is the time for me at long last to rest. On that note, I end this post, with a heavy and broken heart. I walk away from this fight after my last attempt to right this wrong. Then the darkness will claim me, and I will not resist. Not anymore. I swear, my hands will never feel the weight of my blades ever again. I was never meant to hold this much power and responsibility. I will never bend again. The universe will just have to find someone else to wield my swords. I give up, Gabriel. I don't want to bend anyone else to my will. Goodnight.

Dark Sadness

A deep sadness envelops me as darkness blankets the world. But my eyes are dry and clear as I study the stars that dot the night sky. Such immense beauty. My own exhaustion seems insignificant. I am alone. The winds are cold, and whisper softly to me as they brush against my bare skin, ruffling my hair. I have seized my opportunity. I will be playing at the ballroom in November, in my capacity as a pianist. I have chosen to resume formal lessons after a 5 year hiatus. I have expanded my vision, and now as I see the vastness of the world, it saddens me. It saddens me that there is so much pain in the world. So much suffering. My words on this blog are meaningless, they cannot move the heavens to save the dying. They serve no greater purpose than to be an outlet for my inner turmoil. Catharsis. I'm tired of thinking. I'm tired of being the thinker. But thinking is to me what smack is to a junkie. I just can't stop. I have no power to cure the ills of the world, so for tonight, I will draw the thin sheet closer around me and turn away from the night that awaits me. I miss the days when I roamed my vast castle with no responsibilities. I had my gardens to soothe me, my favourite stone ledge overlooking the small lake. And now I have nothing. Alone in my yellow cell, having turned my back on the tiny garden I now possess. I am so tired, but it is too late to sleep. I used to sleep whenever I wanted to, waking up whenever I felt like it. Those days are gone. I've just purchased Ovid's Metamorphoses and Dante Alighieri's Purgatorio. It is nice to finally have the actual books in my possession. I would like to get my hands on Dante's Inferno and Paradiso. When my next paycheck comes in, maybe. My classes have cost me an arm and a leg, and I foresee myself limping along financially until next month. My first class is this Sunday. 3:45pm. I know instinctively that I will zip along through the theories and effortlessly ace the examinations. Thank God I've always challenged myself instead of being content to rest on my laurels.
It is now Friday, and it feels as though the weight of the past week is heavier than ever. I pray that the Sandman will not claim me until Friday night, when I am finally free to surrender to his embrace. Send me someone to speak to me of these things that burn unseen within my person, because each day that passes makes me question my sanity even more. *sigh*
Heaven bend to take my hand, I've nowhere left to turn.

Psychic Rips

I give up. My claws just keep on tearing through the bonds, and people end up getting hurt. I shall continue the puppetshow I have started, but for now I will withdraw into a world of music and intellect, where small-minded and judgemental Singaporean aunties cannot go, because there is no place for mindless arrogance and elitism in the world of my making. Still I am appalled at the damage I have caused. These two hands...have ripped into the hearts of the people I care about and broken them. I am sorry. My penance shall be to live in complete isolation for a while until I get my toxic blades to dull slightly. The damage may never heal, and these rifts and rips that I have caused may never fully close.
Rip out the wings of a butterfly...