No Crueler Tyranny: Accusations and Other Terrors of Our Times

Dedicated to me.

Love will abide, take things in stride

Sounds like good advice but there's no one at my side

And time washes clean love's wounds unseen

That's what someone told me but I don't know what it means.

Cause I've done everything I know to try and make you mine

And I think I'm gonna love you for a long long time

Caught in my fears

Blinking back the tears

I can't say you hurt me when you never let me near

And I never drew one response from you

All the while you fell all over girls you never knew

Cause I've done everything I know to try and make you mine

And I think it's gonna hurt me for a long long time

Wait for the day

You'll go away

Knowing that you warned me of the price I'd have to pay

And life's full of flaws

Who knows the cause?

Living in the memory of a love that never was

Cause I've done everything I know to try and change your mind

and I think I'm gonna miss you for a long long time

Cause I've done everything I know to try and make you mine

And I think I'm gonna love you for a long long time.

- linda ronstadt

Unrequited love. How deliciously tragic.

As I sat there watching the waves crash on to the shore, I could still hear her waiting on the receiver. I wanted to tell her that it was over now and that this was the only way things could be. I to die, and she to live. And that she would eventually see the light of my argument. I could feel a faint shift in a faraway place. A flood of unexplained consequences was on its way, moving towards me like a juggernaut of fate.

Well that was a lie, its been 3 months since I saw her, 2 months since we had a cordial conversation, a month since I heard her. And things haven't changed in the slightest.

I wish there was some way to go back and undo the past. But there isn't. So I stay silent on the grounds that I have no answers to her questions. I am reduced to telepathically trying to communicate how sorry I am about what happened. I think of all the grief and suffering in the world that has gravitated towards me, and it makes me want to escape. I wish with all my heart we could just leave this world behind. Rise like two angels into the night and magically disappear.

All that I am left with is this messy brain after the breakup.

What have I done? I am such an idiot. She was the perfect girl. She really was the perfect girl, which makes her even more perfect because she also happens to like bourbon. She was kind and thoughtful, she was funny and beautiful, she was in shape. She was good at her job, had good friends, a good life. She loves her family, really respected people and she was romantic. I remember that time she got me the best gift ever. She knew how to take care of herself, a rare quality in women. She was well-groomed. Of course she made mistakes but they were all pretty honest. So why am I doing this?

Am I making a mistake? Why couldn't it have just worked out? What if we had continued to live in the same city? Maybe I'm just scared because she is too perfect for me, too close to the ideal. Why don't I know what I want? Why am I so damned fickle? BLEH.

Time will tell. Time will tell. Repeating hasn't made too much difference. To just be patient and let her go and see what happens after some time passes. It will get better. I will be fine. Calm down. Ugh why do you sap me so much? Why am I even focusing on this? My life being back home is awesome, and I am finally trying to do exactly what I moved to this city to do. I have have great friends, a nice place to live finally, a supportive family, festivities on the horizon and even some savings. I have everything I could ever want at age 27. So why can't I just shut up and focus on something else. Writing. Blogging. Focusing on new ventures.

That is it. Maybe I am just completely focused on the wrong things. Who cares about women and being in love and relationships? It's not like I went to school for 16 years so that I could start a career in being a good boyfriend. Why do people even want to be in relationships? What's the point? You should just be pouring all your energy into making the life for yourself that you always wanted. I should make myself a writer, an editor, an architect even. Read some good books. Meet a lot of new people. Yeah, I'll be fine. I don't need anyone. Nothing is missing.

But her crooked smile. Her eyes. The way she talked with her hands. Her voice. Her laugh.

She thinks missing me is hard; She has no idea what it is to miss her.

Like explaining heaven to sheep

I have never been successful in love. Why is it that I cannot distinguish between what I want and what is actually good for me. My romantic escapades have always been a build-up to the same moment - I’m sitting alone in a corner of my room, staring at my knees, scribbling on pieces of paper, wondering how I went wrong, replaying conversations and songs on loop.

This isn't my first adult relationship but I would have died a happy man if it had been my last. It changed me for sure. It challenged me to stray away from the spiral I had created for myself. What I have wasn't trivial, not fleeting, not something I can replace easily. It wasn’t the kind I read in novels, more the kind that probably won’t ever fade away, even if we were to never meet again.

Sometimes you have this unnatural premonition that something awful was about to happen, that it was gonna hurt real bad, and that you want nothing more than to stop it - if you knew what to stop. But, somehow, events just keep happening around you - swirling you around, the unstoppable tide, like an ant on your sink - you can try hanging on to the ceramic with all your strength but there is just too much water and flows are just so divergent enough for you to not account for them all.

You feel yourself go in.

At first it hurts a lot, the stifling forces stuffing the air out of your lungs, the currents jostling you against the walls as they hurry along, then the pent-up adrenaline kicks in and you feel nothing. Then, after all that wears off, the pain returns, except it's worse than it was before, deeper, more complicated, shredding you from the inside out. You look down and realize this shit has happened to you, and it's irreversible, and you will have a scar forever, and you just scream and scream, but the maelstrom will win.

The crowning part is that I have to smile through my days.

Of failed epics and absentee heroes

On the other side of pain is a new place. The past wakes up with a vividness and you feel conversations are useless and the pain you have caused is something you fear will happen again. You feel misunderstood and want to provide clarity, give responses that will clear her head and stop the pain. You want, need the other person to understand that you hurt so much but the more you try to give an explanation, the more strained it gets, till the point where you feel like giving up.

The doomsday clocks have all run down.

The prophecies have all been proven false.

My wishes drown at the well's bottom.

The forecast calls for perpetual rain.

The blunder Down Under

Love ain't enough.

Hehe... Most certainly not.

Roads to Safe Places

"Perhaps the greatest faculty our minds possess is the ability to cope with pain. Classic thinking teaches us of the four doors of the mind, which everyone moves through according to their need.

First is the door of sleep. Sleep offers us a retreat from the world and all its pain. Sleep marks passing time, giving us distance from the things that have hurt us. When a person is wounded they will often fall unconscious. Similarly, someone who hears traumatic news will often swoon or faint. This is the mind's way of protecting itself from pain by stepping through the first door.

Second is the door of forgetting. Some wounds are too deep to heal, or too deep to heal quickly. In addition, many memories are simply painful, and there is no healing to be done. The saying 'time heals all wounds' is false. Time heals most wounds. The rest are hidden behind this door.

Third is the door of madness. There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.

Last is the door of death. The final resort. Nothing can hurt us after we are dead, or so we have been told."

— Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

Why

I feel like this old notepad with a single scribbled page torn out of it.

I remember tearing it out, but I cant seem to figure out why it had to be done.

Mission accomplished I guess.

Writing a new Homeland

Why does everyone keep telling me that time heals all wounds. I cannot agree.

The wounds will remain. All the defects and gaps that the mind has are like the bruises on the body. After all imaginable care has been taken, a scar would still be left behind.

In time, the mind protecting its sanity covers them with scar tissue, and the pain lessens.

But it is never gone.

World falls down

I woke to the clock, it was five thirteen
it feels so far from where I've been.
I look around and check under the sheets
fleeting joy and then the energy depletes.
I see the bag and the clothes strewn around too
have the flowers, everything but you.
Broke the chocolates, made a smiling face
I hate it in this sordid place.
I stare and wish upon the spots on the mirror
that things weren't so and you'll walk through the door

Called my mom, she was out for a walk
comforted a cup of coffee but it didn't talk.
Looked through the paper, felt more bruised
more hearts being broken and people being used.
Sat at home in the pouring rain
saw a movie it brought back the pain.
Because it was happy and I was sad
It made me miss you so bad.

Picked up a light and then threw it down
I know you hate it when I make you frown.
Took the roses and stood in the rain
wasted your summer prayers in vain.
Picked your book up, thought I heard your sound
took a deep breath and a good look around.
Sleep walked the day till I moved to the bed
think I'm half alive but maybe I'm dead.
I cry and tell myself it'll be all right
maybe I should just think more of you tonight.

I'll go about my business, I wont do fine
I don't know what I'd say if I had you on line.
Same old story, not much to say
I've broken your heart almost every day.

And I sit in regret till the day is gone
for all the black things I have done.
The gods will have mercy, they are the blessed
as I squirm in the misery that I have wronged.
In dreams till my death I will wonder on
and wait for you there like a stone, alone.

My humble apologies

I’ve been neglecting this site badly I know, however there is a reason.

It’s taken me some time to get this post done for many reasons. It’s stirred up all sorts of memories, and every time I tried to do it, I would just freeze and look at the screen. It’s a bit disjoint, and not particularly well written, but I needed to get it done while my hands would work properly. Quality isn’t my concern at this point of time.



It should take a few hundred pounds to crush a human skull... Human emotion however is a far more delicate thing.

When you've re-developed a closeness with people that was gone for a while, and you've fallen deeper in love with someone totally unexpected, is it right to leave anyway? Some might say yes, if the regret of not following your dreams is irreparable. If it's meant to be it will still be. Others say, why chance losing a good thing, if you're happy where you are, why go away to seek something you're not even sure you're looking for and chance losing everything you've gained, or risk it being forever changed.

When you're trying to make sure your parents aren't disappointed in you, and that you do the things you know most others only can dream about, and you don't want to put too much pressure on a wonderful and loving relationship...yet, you don't want to leave all the comforts of home, close friends and a life where you have just started to give something back in return, what do you do?

Well, I go anyway...and I cry, and I laugh, and I learn, and I constantly question if I've made the right decision, and hope that one day, I will know if these ghosts have been laid to rest.

The more you look at the clock, the slower time seems to go. It will uncover the hiding place of your mind and torture it with every second. My breakup has left me with a sense that time has become unhinged. I drift between imagination and reality, between past and present with increasing ease. I feel the bolts of time slowly coming away from the breakup. You can speed it up, you can slow it down. You can even freeze a moment. But you can't be rewind time. You can't undo what is done. Yet still I prayed while I was on the floor yesterday night. I did what many people do and tried to make a deal with God. To take me back to the beginning. I knew it was futile yet still I did it. That’s what I was doing the whole 2 hours. Waiting for an answer. An answer that never came.

Maybe I will never move on, maybe I will. People always tell me that time heals all. They lie. Wounds like this never heal, they burn with you for the rest of your life. Maybe I can never move on until I find another reason to love someone else. Why can't be life be simple? Because no one said it was going to be easy. Because at end of it, we're the ones that make it hard on ourselves for whatever reason we cling on to. That is the price we pay for being human. The price for the ability to feel.

This is the price I pay for giving myself so completely to a person and changed everything in my life. There are things in life that are worth the lifetime of misery they give. Misery or not, I don't look back in regret. For those moments that I truly lived, it was worth it. Every single moment of it.

There is a part of my that wants to let all my burdens out. A part of me that needs to talk to someone that can relate to what I am. It doesn't change the fact I still have to deal with everything myself, but it does change the state of mind I'm in, that allows me to do exactly what I need to do.

Yet, I'm here in my room, trying everything that I can to keep the disorder that are my thoughts from spilling out. Maintaining that self control has taken so much of my time, I find myself unable to focus on anything else in its entirety. So what's left is a trail of unfinished business and a wave of needful things approaching.

This is why I hate it when people wish me well. No one ever follows up to give any kind of comfort in any form. Where is an emotional outlet when you most need one? Not on my front door that's for sure.