I will do it all for you.

I'm a pretty lousy friend, but this time, for once I will not leave. This time I'll stick. I promise. I am going to do as much as I can to help you pull through this difficult period of time. It pains me so much when I think of your face crumpling not in laughter, but in complete sadness, tears flowing uncontrollably, your heart shattered into pieces. I think of you in that state and I cry and cry and cry because you are my parallel. We've always laughed together and made stupid jokes of the same frequency. Yet we can still carry a solid, serious conversation and maybe I never told you this, maybe I never showed it, but you mean so much to me.

Never miss an opportunity to tell the ones you love how much they mean to you because one day they'll be gone, just like that, and you would never have had the opportunity to say what's in your heart. It's scary how sudden things happen. Just on Tuesday you and me were having lunch together and talking about stuff, laughing and catching up a little after not really hanging out for a while. You looked so pretty that day. And then Wednesday you didn't come and I never asked you why, I feel so guilty for that. I should have asked you why.

Allah always gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers, and I know you will believe it in time to come. Because you are strong. I know it in my heart.Pick yourself up and carry on and I will help you. I will help you. Things will never be the same again, but I pray for you and the rest of your family. I wish you all the best. We're always hardly serious and doing stupid teasing but I pray to God you and your mother pull through. I love you.


For Natasha.

I am so afraid of the thought of losing you to those shit punks who think they know you so well. They don't know what I know, never shared what we shared. They're just shallow snots who don't know a damn thing and I cannot, must not lose you to them.

ok you little shit

I'm not jealous ok I'm just ugh just stay away from him don't talk to him screw you uGH

Ugh have you ever met anyone so infuriatingly....polite? Like they're nice  and all but there's something about their words that oozes something sinister, as if they're making fun of you in a subtle manner. Then when you burst out in exasperation all they do is chuckle and smile that nice polite smile of theirs and make you feel stupid and dumb and blur all at once.
Then they look at you expectantly like you're supposed to know certain things and they frickin nod and smile at you like some shrink who doesn't give a shit about anything you have to say but still they put on this nice, polite front. And when you try to speak louder to them they correct you like as if to say, "oh I can't be wrong You're wrong." In this stupid calm manner.
Like all the things they're hinting behind their furiously irritating grin and the slight smug look in all their politeness is a direct affront to your helplessness.

Yeah well the staff at RP's One Stop Centre are like that. Shit ok.

You make me think of you

When I see you, I die a little inside because in that moment, something crumbles in me and each piece that breaks away is a shard of something I can't quite place because when I see you I die a little inside, when I see you I feel happy and sad and angry and empty and lost all at the same time. When I look at you and you look at me and words find no place to weave into the silence, I die a little inside.

I don't miss you, I miss having something to latch onto I fiercely tell myself. Maybe it isn't true.When you walk by me there is always  this intense ripping sensation within me, like a raging claw scratching me hollow. I am not so used to not having you around, all the time, everyday. I look at the silhouette of lamp posts against the black sky at night when I go home and I think of you. I look at the quivering branches of trees as the bus speeds past and I think of time flashing by like that, with you, thinking of you. I feel the blood rushing under my skin when I challenge myself in a daily obstacle and I think of you. Skim my eyes past a muddied puddle of water, and I think of you; for aren't we bounded by distance, by delusion, by pretending?

You make me nervous, that's what I conclude. Make my hands tremble and my eyes flicker past yours and my voice shake and my heart ram against my chest at like a million beats a second.

I don't have to endure all this, I really don't. But I can't stop this niggling at the back of my mind that you reduce me to some state that dampens my bloom.


You make me nervous.

I am just really annoyed at myself I think.

Obviously I haven't gotten over you because I still find it so hard to look you in the eye for more than a second. I was half hoping I wouldn't get to see you because I was so afraid all the feelings would come rushing back and I couldn't let that break me.

Pretending is what I do.

Which is why I reacted so coldly when you called my name to say hi, something I dreaded yet willed. Maybe I shouldn't have been so distant. I should have given you a wider smile, a bigger wave, a longer look instead of just glancing briefly at you and waving impatiently back, smiling less than half heartedly. Maybe I should have.

I don't know how I was supposed to feel when I heard you say "what was that?" to my back after the exchange. Surprised maybe? That I've managed to untangle myself  from the clutches of your subtle manipulation? Or a little sad that I can't bring myself to talk to you like a friend anymore? You just don't realize that everything you do impacts me emotionally in magnitudes of hundreds. This coldness must be my shield. Pretending is going to help me; string me up tight so I don't lose myself like I did, when we were in such close proximity.

21/9/13

You were nothing

To say the least

Just a blank canvas of which

I

Poured my desires

My longing

To love someone

To have my heart attached to

I

Painted a picture from memories

All the small things like

Seeing you that day at the café

And the way you stared at me

Although we had never even met

All those constant glances

When we finally became “friends”

All the deep stares across the room

I

Collected each gaze

And put them in this lovely little

Glass jar

Poured them on the canvas

Each time creating a myriad of desire

A thread of expectation

Each time we’d laugh

I’d

Pluck those moments and

Lay them on the canvas

And when you hummed

Or sang

To your favorite song

I’d

Offer my paintbrush and stir it

Through your voice

And so very gently

Drop it onto the canvas

….

It wasn't always you, it was me actually. Forced your favorite bands, forced our similarities, tried to like what you loved, tried to be what you liked, tried to ignore every one of your flaws; your arrogance and narcissism and nonchalance and selfishness. Every time a promise of ugly showed up I’d close my eyes and remembered the way you looked right at me that day at the café. It was the only thing that made me cling so tight, the hard coat of gloss that completed and finalized the painted canvas.

It was nothing of you. It was all of me. All that I wanted. You were just a blank canvas of which I poured my longings onto.

|This was written on one of my smarter moments. Smarter in the sense that I could pick out this mass of emotions and finally articulate this complexity but with sad, bitter honesty. Tbh, when I read  it again I felt a massive wave of sadness wash over me. Out of all the things I'd written about the whole thing, this in fact, was the saddest. And well, I hope it'll be the last post to wrap up and I can finally forget all this nonsense and just move on because there is more to life than just clinging hopelessly onto some other nonchalant entity. There is always that longing, you know? That constant ache to attach yourself to something that promises so much more. I've wasted far too many feelings, but there is a rush you get out of it.

Here's to my emotional betterment, and yours and to all like me. The new school semester is going to be a great one. Cheerios to all of you :-)|

What i would really like to do is to have anyone, literally frickin anyone who'd write poetry with me and then we'd leave it in between pages of library books or tape them to staircases or doors or the sides of chairs.

Hope fervently that it would cause a sporadic effect of words and make a person's day.

I wish.

20/9/13

The blood of the youths run

luminous  through the night

Pulses with passion

Races with heartache

And desperate to fill the lonesome

Desire flows in the night air

And the moon,

The moon it stays white and pure

And it watches all of these things

The youths think they have to endure

Mindless fun for some

Sore pulled strings for some

So close yet so far?

Is this who we are?

Beyond the late night adrenaline

Are streams of pretending

The darkness enwraps us all

In a blanket of delusion

I'm sorry I cant finish this it just seems so senseless idk I really just don't know ugh so much lack of  inspiration I never usually post poetry unfinished but whatever man I can't think I'm so lost

13/9/13

Weaving through the seams of people who all had a sense of direction; seeing everybody laughing aggravated me inside and I’d just go home after my tests, plugged into my music, avoiding people and hoping I wouldn't bump into anyone I know.

I saw you one of those days and you did a double take at me that lifted something in me, tugged at the corners of my lips and made me smile, just a little.

We were waiting at the lifts, not one word exchanged.

“Alright then, this is it. I am not going to see you again.”

And that was it. That day was enough to fill me up, it made me feel a little strange within but I felt less than hollow. It was enough. I hadn't expected much.

1/9/13.

My feelings come in now because my mind is just this spangled mass of thoughts. I ache every day since the last day I saw you. I look out for people and I compare them with you. All the time I think, ”he walks just like you do,” or “he carries a bag just like you do,” and “he talks just like you do.” I am so very afraid that someone else is going to fall for you, hard, just like I have. Maybe even harder. And what would be worse? You fall too. You think they’re right for you. The stupidest thing of all is that I cling on to this image of you because I actually don’t really have anyone else. Everyone has that one closest friend they tell everything to. I don’t. Because right from start, before school started, I told myself I wouldn't need one. You’re like this treasure chest, this blank canvas that I pour my heart into. All my accumulated feelings of falling in love and being deeply enigmatic, I channel them to you and I long for them to be kept with you, tightly sealed in you, this vessel. Most of the time I am so very sure “you” are this image I paint with my memories which I address. It’s so frustrating, it aches, I can’t even explain this strange phenomena.

27/8/13.

There are reasons why I am pretty much satisfied with the thought that we’ll be changing classes. There are people that I just cannot stand, and having their big mouths impeding upon my potential dampens my mood nearly every day. It prevents me from really outshining the rest. I hope the second semester will help me ignite my passion and remind me why I chose this course again. There are people that I learn from too. How is it that people are so passionate and disciplined that they are able to take the lead and herd the rest of the team members into facading excellence?

And then there's you. Seen way before school officially started. All these weeks of pretending have catapulted me no-where. It is funny how I cling onto his image to define my longing of falling in love. Maybe nobody sees it how I do. Maybe everyone else is way too blind to bear witness of these two entities stealing glances and teasing and closeness. At first I was the one who claimed my falling and thus it proved another example of people laughing with distaste at my choices.Well, hasn't it always been this way? People always making fun of my decisions or the one that exudes this pull on my heart?  Let me be honest, I do move on pretty fast as long as you’re not constantly in my face. It has happened, I will not deny it. And maybe that’s why my human attachments with people never truly last.

And the moments when nobody else noticed but me. I never understood what I  wanted, and maybe you didn't too. And all the moments of ignoring, after we engulfed ourselves in tingles from our companionship; your breath on my shoulders, my eyes on you.

25/8/13.

Where you stand.

You are this untouchable tower

of which I

twirl my fine, unsaid words around you.

Coiled around your every curve

Fitting in all your lines,

whispers so faint you don't know I am speaking

Intertwined into clouds of invisible words

For you, I fell so hard

Uncountable crossing lines

In all the silver instances

Pretending you were mine.

24/8/13 ignite

"I think maybe I know why people enjoy loud, rock music so much; they lose themselves for a while,  and they’re so immersed in the music- sometimes even, the screams unleash and reflect their own emotions and they all leave the place very much detoxed, it’s amazing. I’m definitely going for ignite next year, same old spot in the grass, watching the scene and bopping my head to my own rhythm. It’s almost like I really belong there- Like all the other maybe empty souls, we’re there to show our appreciation for indie rock and passion and in that sense we feel connected and whole, it's a release, an escape that promises euphoria."

|These were just my thoughts when I went to ignite! this year and it remained with me for sometime because there was something rather chilling in a strange, different way about the whole experience. I  also decided to write this as a break from the very rather moody rants|

23/8/13.

I feel like pouring my heart out for something. All I ever frickin think about these days is you. The yearning is so deep, so intense, it cuts messily through the tangled muscle surrounding my beating heart, leaves me jagged and near insane. All I think about is you. It’s always the way you look right at me, right into my eyes; every time I look straight back at you I’m lost in your big brown eyes. I can’t. I could cry, it rips me apart when I immerse myself in your gaze. Our time is ending and we have so much more to cover. All these weeks of pretending have hollowed me out until there’s nothing left but a constant aching desire for you.

I’d like to think you always have something to say to me. Our time is running out. It’s ridiculous how  I’ve fallen for someone who has the beautiful features of which God has bestowed upon. With those eyes, you fill them in with your soul. Yet you still remain a mystery. You infuriate me, but sometimes you make me tingle all over with just your breath on my shoulders. And the way you stare-oh boy, those eyes when you look at me, is as if you knew all the discomfort and uneasiness and jitteriness  I  feel whenever you’re around. I know- maybe that is what you want to tell me. What’s funny is that you don’t even offer protection. You’re the type who’d stand and watch, but you wouldn’t stop to care. Yet I still fall so hard.

I love seeing you laugh whenever I do stupid things. Everyone else could be laughing, but it’s only you that I watch. What makes my heart  latch onto yours- I could never explain in words, but it leaves me in a confused mess, a terrified lump of longing. If only someone else saw the signs, they could be witness. It wouldn’t just be me catching your intense gaze. Then someone else would notice. And then I will know it’s real.

Only my father- he sits there pretending to be asleep and ignoring my mother wailing in front of him. Only my father.

This blank facade is slowing molting into hot red furiosity. I can feel it building up in me and threatening to erupt.

Restlessness.
shit.

ANYWAY (I just edited this because it seemed nearly socially unacceptable to post more than 3 posts in an hour)

I just found a few poems and other things I'd written on my laptop that I never ever thought of posting but I suppose I really should have although you might be quite sick of my teenage ramblings and it's mainly about this one person. So I guess starting tomorrow I'll post them one a day although they may seem a little too soul baring but I do want it to be read but I know people don't actually but never mind. (as you can see my anger has subsided thus is a hormonal teen)

School...?

So school is starting in about a week's time and... I'm excited I suppose, for a new regime to start, something to occupy me so I don't sit and dwell over things that could have been.

But I am also scared. Somewhere deep, hidden in the crevices of my mind was a hope that I wouldn't be in the same class as anybody I know. Then I wouldn't have to put up with fake laughter everyday and crack stupid jokes to prove...well to prove I don't even know what. Do you find it rather annoying that I have to turn everything simple into something wayward complex? Because I do. But I can't seem to free myself from the clutches of intricacy. It's almost as if I thirst to intertwine myself into weaves of unfathomable thoughts and ideas. It drives me crazy.

I saw myself walking to school on my own, having lunch on my own, roaming the school corridors and library on my own and keeping to myself and not divulging in unnecessary banter. And I liked it. I liked seeing myself almost tasting my individuality not defined by anyone else, not having to go through the rigors of "girl talks" and giggling incessantly at boys and what not.
     
But somewhere at the back of my mind I know myself this is almost morally wrong to yearn for this "freedom" when I know that I've been put in the same class as parallels to myself. I know. I've been caught up in a tailspin of morbid pretending again and putting up with all of this because it is what is expected of me.Of everyone watching and quick to point out partners.

Do you frickin understand?

It's so frustrating when what I've secretly longed for years- a parallel- is presented to me like a gift and then I try to shun them away just because of my own selfish reasons. Lack of trust. Knowing fully I will never ever be able to pour out my heart to anybody again. Stupid selfish expectations of people. The medal of individuality and solitude. Selfish. So selfish. I am a selfish, immature 17 year old ungrateful unthinking brat.

But I am not saying it just for the sake of it when I say I have lack of trust. The first semester has already shown me how you can trust someone with every inch of your being and then having your heart ripped out through your chest and watching them slice it cleanly with a cleaver rusted with their black lies.

I've had enough.

Perhaps I can hardly wait.

We were placed at such close propinquity and now I have to face the fact that we have been designed to be flung away far from each other, to be ripped fully apart from the threads that held our complex differences together. While time will fade our old conversations, pretending is only going to harden the discretion.

All is well, I think, while I let that thought turn around in my head. Goodbyes sometimes aren’t all that bad. Anymore of your enigma would have been the death of me.