i could give myself to the world but not to one person i could love earth & humanity but not one man this too-deep heart, who could fill? when the world shuns me, who will i run to to nurse my wounds? i would cradle myself and quiet my pain in the dark silence i would call to my God who made this too-deep heart in as much love it could hold, it could hold pain this too-scarred heart, who could heal? when the end of my life nears, who will visit my bed? i would close my eyes and see the days of my too-deep heart and the nights of my too-scarred heart and fade away

It's been awhile since my last post. The last 4 months have been intense - both at work and with my personal issues. Music kept me company, even taking the words out of my mouth when there was too much to say for me to speak. God sustains me through my struggles even as I break His rules. It seems I will be a rebel all my life - hurting those who love me to try and prove to myself how much they do... if they fail my test, they are frauds... and makes my belief that no one will ever truly love me all the more strong... but what prize goes to the winner? Dredging up my past, what I went through as a child was at best therapeutic and made me realize what would make me happy in this life... at worst, I realized that the price of the happiness I seek was the happiness of other people... not wishing to hurt anyone, I kept it to myself, choosing to suffer in silence but like a poison, my misery touches everything I do even when I try hard not to let it. I have to make a clear-cut choice. I cannot vacillate any longer - pursue my happiness or sacrifice it for their happiness. Which is more noble? Which would earn me points in heaven? Which decision could I stick to in the long run? Could I be happy at the expense of other people's misery? Is freedom worth it? Is happiness worth generations of blame? Am I afraid to realize that I'm a good person after all? That I am capable of sacrifice? That I don't have the selfish gene after all. Am I simply being who other people want me to be? The hero, the saviour, the good girl. Will I ever be happy? Or am I meant for a life of misery? O September, let me see the end of you. As the leaves fall and the light of day leaves, fly me to light when the calm waters reflect the sky. Still me, shine through me Fall's sun that Winter may not freeze my heart. Or take me, if I were to make a grave mistake, to the end of the path. If I should die a coward, rather than a pallbearer.

I saw you today I didn't even know it was you Until I made out the lines of your back, your silhouette A guitar slung on your right shoulder A bag on the other It was an unexpected surprise after a long day at work I kept my distance As you turned the corner, I wanted to say I miss you sometimes... This song by Incubus just came to mind -- - - - - You do something to me that I can't explain. So would I be out of line if I said, I miss you. - - I know I'll see you again whether far or soon. But I need you to know that I care and I miss you.

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Speaking of E.E. Cummings in my last blog entry, I remembered another poem of his which I learnt in high school. It was popularized then by the TV show Beauty and the Beast (not the animation). The TV show stars Linda Hamilton as "Beauty" but as for the "Beast", I cannot now recall. The poem is entitled Somewhere I Have Never Travelled. somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond any experience,your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands