I sit by the christmas lights like I'd promised myself to do so. There's something when ur senses are altered. Lights, music, the sense of being... everything seems more vibrant, more full of life than they ever could be. Makes me think if it's my life that's out of vibrancy that results in altered states being so full of everything. Just it maybe, I'm still looking for that passion.
Recent events have turned out to be so far away from different than I'd every imagined it to be. Life has taken like a wild imaginary turn. Where it seems that I'm finally living in the pages. But is this the page I wanted to be in is the true question. Unexpected turns are scary but so is life. But scared of what? Why try so hard to hold on to?
Tore two pictures. Has the passion really gone?! did it ever really begin? Words after words...
Dance party last night was amazing. I was drunk enough to command the dancefloor and manage to dance without holding myself down.Danced with a girl I knew from work but had never talked to. She was drunk, I was drunk. saw her at the dancefloor. She approached, a big grin on her face, as if she'd almost say, "Finally someone I know." She held out her hand, as an invitation to a celebration. My mind was spinning in turns but yet balanced enough to accept her invitation to this dazzling new world of moving bodies, booming sound, smiles and laughter everywhere, lights collided, sweaty hands slid against eachother, a contagious vibe of movement took grip. I took her hand, and manuvered myself against her. I was confident, not something I usually am.
This abandonment of self-imposed restrictions is what altered states can generate. Be it in terms of confidence or creativity.
Now we were swaying to the tune of the music. Her body moved,there was a groove to that moves.I quickly learned to match her groove. She responded. I held on to her tighter. She moved closer. Now there was a certain rythm in our movement. Both recognized that it was our rythm. Bodies moved on. By now I had enough confidence to wrap her around me. I rested my chin around her neck from the back. She smiled lightly.
Music commanded attention. The loudness of speakers seemed to carry people away from the presence into this fast-beat based world.
Soon to know I started kissing her. Her cheeks were soft, cold, not cold but cool enough to freshen up your lips with every peck. She didn't move away. I approached more. Kissing her even longer. She held tight to my hand.
Music boomed louder by the second but it almost seemed everything around had blurred, noone was seeing, everyone blurred in their own worlds of hypnotic movements.
I look at my clock now again. Here, writing this. It's 2:35 AM, still by the christmas lights waiting...
It's amazing how the very thing am waiting for is something that I've decided to take my mind out of.She'd called last night. After I returned from the dance, I soon separate from the dancer girl. The person whom I was on the phone with at 4 in the morning was someone else, not the dance girl. This girl was someone whom I thought I'd fallen in love with. The situation here was so complex that it was even messier than the affair I'd been in a year ago. She was on the phone, crying. It was a call for help. She was still trying to get over her last love. She had this boyfriend for last six years. As she'd stessfully said in tears on the phone. She'd loved this guy with everything she'd got. Loved him more than anything. I stay silent and listen. It was 4 in the morning. She's heart-broken mumbling how disappointed she is with how thing turned around with her last boyfriend. She has this amazing ability to throw me completely into such a depression that noone has quiet achieved so far besides her. She's crying again, telling me how it's hurting her. I close my eyes, listening. It's like if someone else were laughing at me. Here I was, I almost loved this girl. Sent her songs, letters, bought her stuffed animals, took her to palces to eat, kissed her more than once. And here she was on the phone with me, crying how her last and maybe only love ended. She seemed hurt. I always sympathized with her for some reason.But today in such a drunken state I was thinking about myself. She kept rambling on how I would not be able to understand her pain. I hadn't even said anything. She kept on going with her broken dreams. I was thinking about myself, so that brought me to a point where I couldn't listen to her anymore. I shouted out, take a hold of yourself. I stood in control, telling her how whatever may have happened was in the past and she was not living in the present. I even went so far as to tell her that if she doesn't recognize people in her present, they're gonna leave. Making her alone again. Of course, the people in the present was just me whom I'd implied to be. She did take a hit, because until now I'd never taken control but always let her sway me with her emotions. Like I'd let myself sway with the dancer girl's rhythms. I'd always let her sway me leaving me feel miserable about my life also. But last night I took control. I had enough emotional downpours. I raised my voice a little and ranted on indirectly how I'll not be there in the future if she doesn't acknowledge me now in her life.I still think I love her. But oh, love is so elusive!
She responded by feeling a little secure. Her voice changed, she asked me why I cared for her so much and was listening to her bullshit at 5 in the morning. I replied by saying that her emotional downpour was just a part of herself. And how as a whole I liked her, even with her emotional downpour, which was a part of who she was. I liked her enough to accept her emotional downpours. I meant it like that, and by god I thought of that the fastest and in the most deepest way. Her voice made me feel she was more secured now.
But after a while she went again with how her life seems so out of balance. And she doesn't like anything of it. Ouch, another blow. Among the things she doesn't like about her life now would also have to be me. I take a pain, chest on. Swallow it tough. Take a courage to tell her I couldn't help her anymore, neither anyone could, not even god could but herself. I extended that note on other similar sentences and then agreed politely to put the phone down.
I felt I'd grown. Now finally able to face life with noone else's need. Take life as an independent self without the need to share it with anyone. I felt I'd grown.
Here I write, still besides the christmas lights, out early so before christmas. Beautiful but not in it's designated time. Just like everything in my life. Here I am still besides those christmas lights, listening to the most heart-broken song, singing about how the singer's gonna be okay even though he couldn't get her. The singer sings on how he will keep on singing that song to her knowing he could never get her. Fitting, a part of my mind says. I look at the clock 3:00AM and she hadn't called today. No, not yet. Why am I still looking at the clock and waiting to see if she would call me when I don't even want to talk to her. I want her out of mind and I think that am gonna be fine without her, but yet fear so much to even think of a time without her. She was the one who shared the same weird interests like me. She was the rare one who completely understood the states of my mind. Yet, here she was still taking the pain of her first love. Her childhood love. Her first look at life in a way of love. Those fantasies she still held on to, comparing it with reality, calling it a big disappointment. It's almost like she lived in those lovable dreams soo much that she believed it to be the truth. But unexpected turns threw her out to a place she could only cry about and calling it a disappointment.
Where did I even fit into that story, I never did. I never will. It's such a private affair to her heart that it will never see the person right next to her, desparetly trying to make her see some kind of happiness in reality too. But dreams are too closer to her. She would enjoy the reality but still get sad over the shattered dreams.
There I stood feeling like I was holding on to someone so tight to make her not feel lonely, but there she was with her eyes elsewhere reaching out her hand trying to grasp on that dream again, tears flowing thru her eyes, her mouth open, still trying to get back to her dream. All I felt I could do was hold even tighter and cry my own sorrow. Until last night when I tried releasing her off the hold. Maybe it was me, who was making her long the dreams even more.
Maybe it was me all over again, good but so not designated for its time. Like these early Christmas lights!
It's 3:45 and I just ignored her call.
