Surrender

IMG-20130919-WA0000

There are days where you feel invincible, days where you feel as if the mere tipping of your toes will hoist you high enough to pick a star out from the night sky. These days, everything you do is adequate. Even the mere act of breathing makes you revel in the fact that there’s so much you can do, will do and have already done that you will one day compile into a heaping list that’ll give meaning to your existence. Days like this, you wish will never end.

Then there are days where you feel like a sail boat on windless sea. Days where hours spent relentlessly working amount to nothing, like scribbling with white ink on white sheets, like dusting cupboards during dry storms. Days where you try so hard but get no where. Days where light blinds and darkness suffocates.

Sadly, today is one of those.

I don’t have pearls of wisdom or words of comfort because most of us have these days that nothing can turn around. Reassurance stings like swabs on wounds and advice falls like bitterness at the back of tongues. Bad days remain bad despite all the good in the world.

But it’s alright, because like everything else, days too shall pass. Good ones, bad ones, they’ll all fall into the valley where we’ll forget to pull them out for scrutiny so even when we look back, we look pass them, through them, away from them as if they never even happened.

So just hold on tight and keep your knees a little too close to your chest for comfort. Let this bad day reign over you, will it away and celebrate its passing. Oh, and admit defeat. The earlier you surrender, the less it hurts.

Image credits: Daniel

Food is Better Than Love

Image

IMG_9066 copy IMG_9050 copy

“Oh, with food like this, who needs anything else…”

“Then you eat alone lor”

Some might seem adamant when this topic floats to the surface of an outrageously satisfying dinner, some may choose to defend (in futile may we add), but nobody can ever deny that food, is sometimes/most of the time/all the time, better than love.

They say love is life’s greatest mystery, the only thing that leaves even the most enlightened crumbling upon their knees. It captivates, enchants and makes you feel euphoric then suddenly devastated in a matter of seconds, like the victim of your own psychological distress. But when love fails you? It’s only a good ol’ tub of extra sinful chocolate ice cream that can soothe your burning soul. Because what’s the worst thing a bad meal can do to you? It might disappoint, fall short of your expectations or in worst cases, leave you lying in bed with an upset stomach. But a relationship gone haywire? Broken, shattered and relegated to being voluntarily crippled. Food won’t make you cry like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest, it won’t make you heave in the sadness of a relationship’s  premature death, nor will it intentionally deliver a paralysing squeeze to your gut.

Who need’s first loves when McDonalds introduces a new burger every festive season? Who needs to hear a lover’s carefully whispered words when you can listen to the sizzling of meat set upon a heated grill? Who needs gifts when you can pay for pralines every time you walk past a chocolate shop? Who needs the hots and colds of a relationship when you can have chilled lobster set between two slices of toasty-warm sourdough bread? We sure don’t.

So this Valentine’s day, give yourself a break and go out with someone that doesn’t care about what you wear, how you behave or what you say during dinner. Give your heart to someone that you know damn well won’t break it. This Valentine’s day, give in to that glorious looking steak that’s sitting so contentedly upon your plate and give food a chance to prove to you that it can be so much better than love.

(Supposedly written for work, but ended up here instead. Furnished with photos from my home-made Valentine’s Dinner. 🙂 )

Goodbye, Goodnight.

One day you will realise that the infallible will fail you. And when that one day comes, you will want to burrow deeper into the depths of your duvets and never ever emerge again.

Happy Sunday to you.

Revenge is For The Heartless

When you love someone and they break your heart, you remember it forever. You may fall in love again, you may get up on your feet again, but the feeling of having your chest ripped open and your heart slowly torn to pieces? That feeling never really goes away.

I used to love you. I used to notice you in a corner of the school canteen and feel excitement bubbling right in the middle of my chest. I used to run right up to you and give you a huge hug, because that meant that I got one in return. I got a hug from you. A hug you gave so damn well, it felt like sunshine pouring into my cold wet soul and keeping me alive. I used to laugh with you, I used to watch you cry. I used to haul your sorry drunken ass up a cab and to my house in the middle of the night. I used to love you, right from the very tips of your fingers, to the marrows of your bones. And for a brief moment of time, I thought you loved me too.

But the funny thing about time is that a second to someone can end up being years to another. And perhaps a blink of an eye to me became a far too long for you. Does it hurt when you remove someone from your life? Do you rip them out like band aid from a wound, or do you like to light a match and watch them burn up in flames? I hope it hurts. I hope it hurts like hell. Because maybe then, you can feel a quarter of the pain you put me through.

But hey, the good news is I no longer do. I no longer love you. After the million and a half times you broke my heart? Consider it a miracle I took so long to lose faith in you. Anyway, here’s a parting gift for you: When someone breaks your heart, remember to break theirs too. Only this time, do it better, do it harder, and remember to hold back your tears when you hear yours splinter too.

Blurb: When It Happens

A heartbreak is literal. It begins with an ache in your chest, and for the first time, you hardly know it until you begin to welcome it like an old friend. Its not like how they dramatize it. Its not like a sharp stab in the thigh, or the rip of a muscle. A heart break is gradual, like a flower leaving its bloom, like the sun meeting the horizon, like life leaving earth. A heartbreak is literal.

Did your heart beat hitch in anticipation when you met her today? Did a smile appear on your face when you spotted her through the crowd? Did you lovingly whisper her name when she came within ear shot? Did your fingers find the spaces between hers? Did your hands deftly find the curvature of her spine? Did you hold her in your arms? Did you deeply inhale when you realised she hadn’t changed her shampoo? Did you habitually run your fingers through her hair? Did she tell you she loved you? Did you tell her you did too?

A heartbreak is literal. The breaths you take trying to calm your shattering heart. The furious blinks you take to will the tears away. The burning in your chest and stomach and the sickening need to retch. They’re all your heartbreaking. Because a heartbreak is literal. And when it breaks, the rest of you falls apart too.

Blurb: Handle With Care

A bruise forms when an impact is strong enough to shatter the blood vessels beneath the surface, but not strong enough to break your skin. Its literal internal bleeding. Red blood trickles out of those damaged veins and spread themselves out under the layer of delicate, translucent epidermis. At first you don’t see it. Only an angry red mark left by a hand too willing to inflict hurt. When the pain passes, you hardly feel it anymore. The red mark now only a ghost on the skin. In fact you can only make out the vague outline of what it was if you’re looking. And even then, you’re almost sure its only a figment of your imagination. Then suddenly, one day, after you’ve forgotten about the hurt, about the pain, a purple cloud catches your eye. A deep purple cloud that reminds you of a stray rain cloud in a mile of cloudless clear sky. People say rubbing it, putting pressure on it would make you feel better, heal better. But when you ultimately find the courage to do so, it hurts. It takes you back to the time of impact. It makes you wonder about the source of impact. I say, deal with a bruise the way you deal with a heartbreak-let them be. They are more similar than you know.