Sunday, March 28, 2010

01:38 AM

Right now, the current local time is 01:38 AM. Well, technically, it's 02:38 AM. But if you're too drunk or too asleep, it doesn't really matter to you now, does it? It probably doesn't even matter if you're too sober, wishing you weren't, like me. But it does. It does matter.

Twice a year, my twelve-numbered clocks and I, we have what I dub 'a stimulating encounter'. It's nothing out of the ordinary, believe me. In fact, I bet many people out there are doing it right at this very second. It's exciting. It's thrilling. It's.. electrifying! Of course it is.

Twice a year, we are granted permission to manipulate time. Time. The second most confusing four-letter word following Love. Physicists have been trying to define it. The rest of the world have been trying to understand it. I, for one, still haven't.

Twice a year, we adjust our cuckoo clock so that it is in line with a particular world time zone. We arrange it, we change it, we mess with it. Simple put, we do as we're told.

Well today is my exception. I am synchronising mine to my time zone. My decision. My life. My time. Permission Granted.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

The Mannequin

I saw her and suddenly everything changed. She was wearing a white bow sleeve shirt and a pair of blue denim jeans. I knew, by the way she was looking at me, that she wanted out, that this was not the way she wanted it to be. She was crying but couldn't, was smiling but had to. She was running to stand still.

She just looked and stared, all day long, never uttering a single word. But meeting her was the best thing that ever happened to me. She didn't have to say anything. I knew. Of course I knew. How could I not?

Today, I found myself thinking about her, about the way she used to stand idly by. I miss her sometimes. They tried contacting her but she is nowhere to be found. She's gone and I'm the only one who can bring her back. But I'm not going to.

You might find this very hard to believe, but this story right here, is the story of a mannequin. My mannequin. To put it bluntly, this is the story of the idiot who used to be me.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Truth Does Make A Noise

Three hours. That's how long it lasted. It was emotional. It was intense. It was probably the most overwhelming conversation I have ever had. Survival of the Fittest. That's exactly the reason why this whole thing started, the reason why I am now seeing what has been in front of me all this time.

I won't go into details. Details are irrelevant at this point. Details are, however, what make this blurry picture clear. I've seen you before. Today, it's like I saw you for the very first time. Today, everything started to make sense. The child grew up. And so have we.

It's all coming back to me now. The tears, the forced smiles, the late nights. But it doesn't matter anymore. We live, we love, we struggle, we move on. That's the way it is, the way it's supposed to be. The longer the struggle, the harder the fight. And yes, now I get it, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.

Words have been said and yet sometimes too much is never enough. But I don't intend to prolong this any longer. I just wanted you to know that I will never forget this. Not in a year. Not in a thousand years. You're in my life. Now more than ever. And this is for you.