Fraz's Blog, page 2

A Country Boy’s Sonnet

Let them call me names to their delight

The words of man can seldom live on

As the lamps of life flicker their light

Words wither like bones, until they are gone

If being born in the country, makes me a loon

I would love to be born a fool again

Pure symphony of the sun and the moon

Is worth a lifetime of scornful disdain

Words cannot shake my heart, full of praise

For the arcane carving this sight into me

No word created by man can rephrase

The song of a bird chirping on a tree

If a mere thought they cannot, to this picture give

They are far from realizing, they are yet to live

07/09/2010

It is college time for me. To be honest, it’s not much different from school except for the fact that the professors here don’t seem to give a crap. At least the teachers were a bit empathetic back in school days. Here it’s every man for himself. A brutal realization that the world isn’t as nice as you might think it to be while watching movies.

Frankly, it is a huge relief if you ask me. I’m glad I got to go to college far away from my home. I’m no longer Mr. Popular and nothing in this world would make me happier than being out of the limelight. No more false pretenses and no more answering stupid questions. I can be a recluse all by myself and live out my misery in peace it seems.

More or less, my favorite pastime is just sitting around observing people. To think how obnoxious and ignorant people can be sometimes. They say that there is justice in the world. I wonder who decided upon that statement because as far as I’ve observed there’s no justice in this world whatsoever. It’s just the will of the mighty.

I’ve made some really remarkable observations too. I wonder if anyone knows that a not so popular person if tries something just for fun and it pisses of the second party, he or she is going to be held accountable for a really long time. And if the same act was done by someone who is relatively more charming and can talk his or her way through, all is forgiven.

What makes me come to this conclusion? Well, all my high school experiences did help but the best one was the real life event I witnessed right in front of my eyes in college. And to think I was writing my trip to the nearby cafeteria as a total waste of time and energy. Shame on me I guess. Anyway, back to the story, Cindy Kimble and Drake Roderick were sitting at the table nearby and this is their story.

Drake is a fairly popular guy. He’s in the football team which makes him a hit with the ladies. Not to mention his hereditary good looks. And since he’s studying pre-med, he’s one of the hottest picks you can have. And well, what am I to say about Cindy? She’s pretty much the dream girl of every guy on campus.

So there they were sitting in the cafeteria when I watch Drake dumping a full load of Pepsi onto Cindy’s head when she dares him to. And to my surprise, they laugh about it after as Cindy tries to return the favor. What’s odd then some might ask? Well, just a month back, I remember a not so popular guy Cindy used to call as a friend do the same but with a very different outcome.

Nicholas Ray was nothing but a regular geek in a way. He was nerdy and a total technocrat. He and Cindy were tight as anything because they’d hit it off as soon as they met. Cindy didn’t have many friends when college started so Ray had helped her out and they were like the best of friends until that fated day when a prank changed everything between them.

I remember it was Cindy that started it. She threw some water on Nicholas’ pants and made fun of him in public saying he’d peed himself. Of course that would be pretty embarrassing for any guy. Nicholas as revenge poured some back on Cindy and boy did she threw one hell of a tantrum. She cursed him and stormed off never to talk to him again.

What happened to poor Nicholas? Well, he’s still on campus buried in his books. I guess he’s more or less given up on girls and allows his mind to be only occupied with studies. It’s not a bad thing. He’s like got 4 patents already. A lot of girls are crazy about him too. But I guess old scars take too long to fade away. He’s still not over the last trauma it seems because he wouldn’t be seen dead with a girl now.

So there you go, different reactions to different people by the same person. I did give an example of a girl but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t apply to guys. Even guys can be indifferent from time to time. Charles was one hell of an example. His sweet talk is the talk of the town here. I’ve heard he can sweet talk any girl into his arms.

Charles Richard, son of a very wealthy estate owner, is always surrounded by the ladies. It’s almost impossible to approach him when he’s burrowed deep within the swarm of ladies around him. But that didn’t Stop Rosette from trying. Who is Rosette? Just a regular girl with shoulder length hair and freckles on her face.

What happened between them? Well, Rosette it seems was smitten by the playboy but he couldn’t care less. As far as I’ve seen, Charles would usually put up a façade of being a true gentleman when around girls. He’d be caring, sweet, gentle, charming, chivalrous and whatever a girl so desires in order to please her.

Poor Rosette never got the same treatment however. Why? Because according to Charles, she wasn’t up to standards. So when Rosette did manage to muster up the courage to ask him out, and as it so happens I was weirdly nearby lying down under a tree, I managed to eavesdrop involuntarily and feel sorry for her.

“Umm… Charles, I-I-I really like you and I was wondering if you’d be okay with dating me?” I heard her blurt out.

I must say it did catch my attention. Her voice was so shaky that it was cute. I was but certain this Charles dude would at least give her a gentle response to her very genuine request. What I heard was surely surprising.

“Pfft… How can you be so delusional?” he chuckled.

Yup, it did surprise me but I’m no knight in shining armor so I stayed where I was. Out of their business.

“How can you even think that I, Charles Richard, would even come to ever date such a wrench like you? I wouldn’t even let you lick my boots! Get the hell out of here you sicko!”

Ah… Heartbreak. Nothing new to me. I’ve got a broken heart but mine is from being separated from my beloved. Not from being rejected downright diabolically. I wonder which would hurt more. Something makes me think that the latter one is more painful than my own. I at least had someone acknowledge my feelings and was able to spend at least some moments of bliss.

In any case, I just lay there as I watched Rosette run off into the setting sun. I never did see her on campus again. Maybe she might’ve changed schools or maybe we just didn’t have classes that coincided together. In any case, it was a relief not to see her. It would be really rubbing in insult to injury if I were to face her and end up pitying her. The world is better off this way.

Ah, I totally forgot. I’m a pre-med myself. Though now, I just stick to the books and alone time. To be honest, it’s a lot more fun than when I was in high school and in the popular circle. I can finally put my own façade to rest. Helps me breathe and makes me feel human again. I’d never want to feel even remotely similar to Charles after all.

14/07/2010

A dedication to my late beloved. And well, a memory preserved in a cryptic way. I really do miss Winnie. More than I can describe in words. She was the one as far as I could tell. I could be completely myself around her. There were no secrets, no masks, no pretending. I really enjoyed the time I spent with her. If only I could have it all back.

I’ve also realized something else. Though my writing seems to have evolved much from the dark and depressing genres I was used to, I’m still suicidal. Even more than before. I think it’s because Winnie is no longer with me. She seemed to have been the perfect counterweight to the darkness weighing down upon my soul.

It’s a pity really. I haven’t written about the reasons of my suicidal tendencies now have I? Hmm… Maybe I should. But where should I begin from? I guess I should write it down from my time at the orphanage maybe. Yeah… That might be the right way to start things off. A little background story.

>

So I was just another orphan in St. Helena’s orphanage. The story they told me was this, someone had dropped me off at the church door and they’d offered me up to the orphanage. If only the church knew where they were sending me. Maybe if they did, they’d have considered putting me alongside the rabbits in their petting zoo instead of sending me off to that hell.

Helga the caretaker only cared for filling her pockets. She diverted most of the funds to her own private account somewhere, planning for a nice retirement. Usually all of us were left to fend for ourselves. Eating what we could salvage from trash cans in the neighborhood. You’d be surprised with the stuff you can find inside those. I once found a very nice whole pizza in the trash.

What little clothes we had, they were more or less hand me downs. Since I was the youngest, I pretty much got the short end of the deal every time. Oh, we weren’t really allowed to sleep on the beds you know. They had to be well made and should look presentable when people came for inspection. There were good clothes locked away in trunks for those occasions too.

In short, my life in the orphanage compared to my home at the moment was a living hell. My home is a lot better though. I have a nice bed, good education, security and all that. What’s the downside? My father has somewhat of a drinking and smoking problem. The only reason he actually thought about taking me in was to please my mother or so I believe.

Of course they do love me. But their love isn’t what a son born to their blood would receive. It is more like a love out of sympathy I guess. Sympathy towards themselves than towards me I guess. They believe I was in heaven looking at the condition of the orphanage. Why did they choose me then? I was well, the frailest of them all. Like I said… Hardcore Catholics.

Now I guess I should tell you about my life at home. When my dad goes out drinking with his buddies, he ends up taking out his frustrations on me. And since my mother loves him far too much, I pretty much have to keep my mouth shut and not speak a word even when my dad almost blows off his head swearing at me. Words I don’t think would be appropriate putting down here.

I don’t hate them though. Oh no. They did save me from the hell of an orphanage. I could still remember the looks the other orphans gave me. A look of pure contempt and jealousy. I knew I was privileged the moment the car pulled out of the gates of the orphanage. Why am I suicidal then? Because I don’t know who I am and I don’t have a real meaning to my life.

I mean, what’s really the point? I go to school, I come back home, eat, drink, sleep, work… Maybe someday I’ll get a job, marry, have kids, and die. What did I really accomplish? Did I make a difference? Especially with my average scores and intellect? I have a high EQ yes, but not a high IQ. And that is what people require these days, right?

I mean, I can disappear and die out from this world and not much will change. The earth will continue to spin, the huge grandfather clock in our house will continue to tick, the birds will still chirp in the morning, the sun will still rise in the east and set in the west. I’m not saying I want all the stuff to change or time to stop, but would I make a difference in peoples’ lives enough to make them miss me?

Now that I think about it… Most of the people in the world won’t matter much or will be remembered. I wonder if we should all just up and disappear. That would be a something right? Too bad, wishes aren’t usually granted that easy.

Nothing But Time

It was their first date. Sitting there in that small café, both of them were pretty uncomfortable. What was worse was the fact that it was far too obvious. Neither of them knew how they were supposed to break the ice. Both Ronald and Jasmine knew they had to do something before the awkwardness went out of control.

“Uh… Nice weather right?” Ronald tried.

He watched as Jasmine just nodded. Still no word. ‘Not good,’ he thought looking out at the ocean. The tides were coming in strong today. It was such a waste sitting in the café on this fine summer day.

“So, well, umm… Would you like to take a walk down the beach?”

She nodded again. Ronald helped her up and they walked out the café door. Her brown wavy hair swayed in the ocean breeze. She looked absolutely majestic in the white dress. Kind of like an angel or a bride. They walked on the warm sand amidst the sound of seagulls and children playing.

A small child came running and knocked Jasmine into Ronald. She instantly froze and backed off. Her face flushed and red. She seemed really uncomfortable with the small bit of accidental interaction between their bodies.

“Are you okay?” Ronald asked worried as he watched her.

“Umm… I’m really sorry but I’m kind of uncomfortable with physical contact. You see, I suffer from a condition called Haphephobia,” she explained calmly after taking a long breath.

Ronald just nodded as he remembered that they had talked about it before. They started walking again.

“So, you refrain from any contact whatsoever?” he asked calm as the breeze.

“Not really. I don’t mind being touched by people I’ve really come to know. Like my parents and sister are fine,” she replied.

“I can’t imagine. Must be tough.”

“You don’t mind?” she asked surprised.

“Not really. I mean, we all have our fears right?” he responded. “To be honest, I’m very scared of insects touching me. Especially cockroaches. Those critters just give me the creeps.”

She laughed.

“Really? Afraid of cockroaches. People don’t tease you?” she asked between bouts of laughter.

“They would if they knew. I try to keep it under wraps. Promise to keep it a secret?”

Ronald felt a lot better when he saw her laugh. It meant that the awkwardness was slowly fading away and that she was opening up. Meeting online and then deciding on going on a date, both of them knew it was going to be difficult.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” she said smiling.

It was almost sunset when the two sat down on a rather uninhabited area on the beach. The sunset was beautiful. The red sky in all its crimson glory was magnificent.

“I never thought I was capable of being with someone,” she said shyly resting her head on her knees.

“Neither did I. I have a huge problem with understanding relationships it seems. Or rather, maybe I understand them far too well,” he sighed looking into the sunset.

She turned her head to look at him.

“Do you believe we might work?” she asked.

“Honestly…” he paused before continuing. “I don’t know. But I want to find out.”

“Me too,” she said moving her hand to slightly touch Ronald’s.

It surprised him so he turned to look at her. He could see that she was blushing. Her cheeks were cherry read with shyness.

“Umm… baby steps,” she said smiling.

He smiled back as he interlocked his fingers with her.

“I’m in no hurry,” he said recalling how perfect it all seemed. “We have all the time in the world.”

08/07/2010

It’s been almost a month since Winnie passed away. I’m happy about one thing at least. I could hold her hand in her final moments. I’ve been really pissed with myself over the fact that I was so selfish. One thing I know for sure now… Never again! I’m pretty sure about it that something like this will never happen again.

To be honest, I wish I could put an end to my life the moment after I watched her succumb to death. I didn’t want to live in this world without her. But then I remembered her note. The note that is now my reason to live. I am more or less sure of one thing though. There is no way I’m falling in love again. I’m not made for love.

Someone who is far too naïve is not at all meant to be loved by someone. I’m not even sure I’ve truly loved anyone in my entire life. Of course I cared for Winnie more than myself but did I really love her? If I did, how was I able to doubt her in just a matter of seconds like that? Love is definitely something that is not made for me.

I’ve decided to keep on writing this diary. Why? Because I’m no longer in the groups I was before. After the incident, no matter what, I can’t seem to be able to live my facade. I’ve become a complete loner. I no longer hang out with my jock friends or the nerds. I just don’t have any intention of socializing anymore.

Maybe I’m just too scared of getting close to anyone ever again. Maybe it’s for the best. After all, I’ve spent a majority part of my life alone. I believe I can live the same way for years to come. It is the best option with the least amount of pain. Besides, since I’m no longer privileged with the freedom to even end my worthless being, it seems like the best thing to do.

I’ll just write my feelings in this little notebook. The notebook that serves as a memory of our time together. The notebook that helps me relive all the good times we had together. Even if it was for a very short duration, it was the best time of my life. I’ll just keep writing. Maybe in hopes that the part of her that still lives on in this diary might enjoy my writing and accept my apology. And maybe even forgive me for not being the man I was supposed to be for her…

UNFORGETTABLE

On the rock she sat

Her wet golden hair

Its sweet fragrance

Filled the morning air

The sound of the water

From that angry waterfall

Could not drown the sound

Of her sweet call

It was hard to tell

If her blue eyes

Showed the deep waters

Or the wide skies

The smile of those lips

How the heart skips a beat

And a touch from those hands

Was a divine treat

The five great senses

Along with the sixth

Crave to sense her alone

To attain a Nordic grith

Though she’s been stolen

By the ever so cruel fate

Her presence doesn’t fade

From the memory’s slate

17/05/2010

I AM SUCH A DESPICABLE PERSON!!!

I’ve been such a fool. Such a disgrace to be called a man. How was I so foolish? Why couldn’t I have been more open minded and mature? I was so selfish, thinking I was the one who was betrayed that I didn’t realize I had betrayed her instead. How could I have not been there for her? I’m so sorry at this point that I don’t know what to do.

I’ve realized now that there are always two parts of every story. I didn’t know hers and I was quick to judge. If only I knew, I could’ve been there for her more. I couldn’t even stop myself from crying today when I saw her in the hospital. I could see how much pain she was in. The doctors had come to the conclusion that there was no way of saving her.

The internal bleeding and all the trauma was too much. All that morphine pumped into her was barely suppressing the pain enough. As it turns out, the rest of the story goes like this… In the afternoon Winnie was on her way to the local beauty parlor when she was involved in a hit and run. The police were still trying to find the culprit.

As for me? I was being stuck up thinking she had stood me up while here she was fighting for her life. There aren’t words in any dictionary of any language to really express the disgust and anguish I feel. She was unconscious the whole time I was with her. Her family was crying outside as I held her hand in that small cramped up hospital room.

I can’t even write anymore. What am I supposed to write now? That I was a demon in human skin? That I was sitting all so mighty on my high horse while the one I loved was going through so much suffering? I would be the worst boyfriend in the history of time. Wow, even cursing myself doesn’t seem to make me feel better.

It doesn’t help that her mother passed me her note that she had managed to scribble before passing out into a coma. I can never forget the words written in it. It was more like those words were to be inscribed into my heart. Words that would always make me bleed inside but at the same time be the words that will forever change my life.

“I’m sorry about the Prom. I know you must be hurt. Whatever happens, know that I love you and know that it will give me happiness to know that you’re fine. I love you. Wish we could have had more time.”

SMILE FROM YOUR HEART

If you ever came back

Regret, you don’t have to show

Leave behind those memories

As if you never did go

No need to apologize

Ask for no forgiveness

Let your presence alone atone

For your unfaithfulness

And when you smile

Be honest with yourself

Fake tears might just hurt others

But a fake smile also hurts oneself

15/05/2010

WHY?

Why would she do something so cruel? How could she play with my feelings so easily and without the slightest bit of guilt? I can’t believe that she had such a dark and twisted heart. She stood me up on the day of the Prom! To think that she was the one who asked me to the dance in the first place!

Didn’t she know how sensitive I am to things like this? She’s read my diary, she already knows that I’m not really as strong as people think I am. I stood there on her doorstep for half an hour knocking on the door of her apartment but she didn’t even have the courtesy of responding. I waited for a very long hour before realizing there was no point and walked back to my car.

She could’ve at the very least said something. Even an “I don’t want to go to the prom with the likes of you, you creep” would’ve been much more gentle and polite. And a much more considerate way of ending things if I may add. I never thought she’d do something like that. Especially after how lovey-dovey we were on the phone in the morning.

“Hey, you done picking up the tuxedo?” she asked.

“Of course. I can’t wear my usual jeans and t-shirt now can I?”

“Of course not. I’d totally dump you if you showed up on my doorstep in a pair of jeans.”

“We can’t have that now, can we?” I replied with a smile on my face.

“Of course not. When did you get so stupid?” she chuckled.

“Since I met you. I’m bonkers in love.” I remember saying.

“I love you too. See you tonight at 5. Have to start getting ready.”

“So soon?”

“Duh! I’m a girl. We like to pamper ourselves.”

“So it seems. Can’t wait to see what a surprise you have planned for me.”

“Just wait and watch.”

And watch I did. At the front of her doorstep, I stared at the door that had lost its lustre to the unforgiving sun. Kind of like the way I lost my smile to the unforgiving silence. I can’t believe I was such a fool to believe in the hope of happiness when clearly I was destined never to have it. Well, serves me right I guess.

One thing is certain. I’m done with the concept of love and happiness for good. No more am I going to believe in such a stupid delusional idea. Jeez, who am I kidding! If Winnie comes back, I’m sure I’ll be overwhelmed with joy again and take her back that very minute. I sure hopes she comes back. At the very least to give me some closure.

05/03/2010

So yeah, we’ve been dating for a while. I’m so in love that I can’t even believe it. It’s a relief I don’t have to refer to her as Dismas anymore. Though I must say, I

had grown to like it. And since she kind of didn’t like it so it was easy to tease her with that. Anyway, Winnie Roland is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

To be completely honest, I’d have never even in my wildest dreams imagined I was capable of loving someone so much. I had always pictured myself as a lonely guy who would probably end up dead due to alcohol or drug abuse like the 27 club or killing myself voluntarily. Never did I imagine that I’d change so much due to an addition

of just one person into my life that I’d want to live again.

So we hang out like normal couples, we go to the movies, hold hands, eat ice cream together, go shopping together and all other normal stuff that couples like us do. More or less all the guys in my class are now jealous of me for landing the most amazing girl in school. I can feel their stares on me as we walk past them in school. I never realized it before, but it feels good when people are jealous of you.

So here I am having the almost perfect life I guess. An awesome girlfriend, no more suicidal tendencies, a peer group (even if fake), a huge social group, in short, I’ve got it all! It’s even becoming hard writing these diary entries. It’s an observation I made, if you’re happy, you write less.

Weird right? I mean just think about it. Most popular stories are about some kind of tragedy. Of course there can be a happy ending in the end but once the story turns happy, the story is finished. There’s no continuation. It’s like a reader and even the writer loses interest afterwards because the rest of the story would be monotonous.

I guess it’s also why most of the writers in the world have sadness in their hearts. It’s through this sadness that true masterpieces come to life. Just look at Shakespeare and his Romeo and Juliet. I’m a real fan of Shakespeare alright. I kind of use his name in most of my examples. Hmmm… Who else has a good book?

Arthur Conan Doyle. Yes. Writer of Sherlock Holmes. Even he introduced Sherlock as a druggie in order to create an imperfection to the otherwise perfect detective ever. Perfection is an over-rated and a quite boring concept indeed. The real excitement of life and existence is in the pursuit of perfection by an imperfect being.

Maybe Winnie Roland has filled the void in my life that pushed me into writing. And maybe it is a bad thing because I may never improve upon my current level and be chained down in the material happiness of the world. But in all honesty, I’d choose Winnie every time because void or no void, she makes my life complete. Without her, my existence itself, would be incomplete.