Muse

Hey.

The new calendar year has moved in along with the cold Artic wind. But the last days in December is already feeling archaic. Or is it just the time lapse of the dreading heart? But what was there to dread at the start of another 2011?

Another 2011... Pfft! Like I've been there once upon in the past. Perhaps, somewhere in the corner of my mind, I had conjured up 2011 once. And having to relive it on real grounds seems a tad too disappointing.

I helped myself to ample time of sleep and what if's and pointless poignant thoughts. I relish in the idea of an addition . I believe in the turn of times. I planned a thousand falls and one happy ending.

But all I get was the many ways I'm shredded down to the barest elements. The many windows lifting up the shed tears rolling down the cheeks in bed. I remember not wanting that hug. I remember running away. I don't recall the times I actually wanted something.

Because the only thing I remember was how all this would end.

The year had already ticked solemnly. The smiles faded as fast as it was formed. The loss of a familiar face. The sudden truth of how fragile and how unexpected one life is demanding a whole chunk of gaping void inside this numbskull of mine. The tears couldn't had formed for it was illegal. The silent mourn was acceptable. But who am I to say its okay to cry and that she would be released from her sufferings? That perhaps she wanted more to life than to rot away in the ground? I know I would want that.

But would you rather give up? Is dying something you should accept or fight for? When do we stop fighting? When do we not fight and not deny? Funny how I am ranting when even he put up the bravest front and smile chin up. I feel most undeserving for the tears I did not held back.

Lost one. Losing one.

I don't know if I'm running away once more but it sure feels like it. I do wanna love you. I do wanna try. But I can't even remember why and where and when. I don't even know how I ended up back to 2009. I don't remember your face or your voice or how it feels to have you beside.

And we begin another year with failing discipline and rain clouds. How morbid and distasteful can I get.

Roar.