loss.
How infuriating. To be exocommunicated from the world by loss of a device. To be thus chains and thus bound to this device that seeked to liberate. Perhaps that how the world is. The more you try to free, the more constricted the receiver becomes. Perhaps I have tried too hard to please, to facilitate, and ended up peeving. How saddening.
Now I know why all I did seem thankless and unappreciated, because that is the truth. All that I did, purportedly out of love, was repugnant and redundant to the receiver. All that I did, added to the list of wrongs and inflicted, flies upon a pile of rotting waste.
Questions of whether such acts brought happiness becomes a moot point. How can additional rot perfume the stench of the existing pile? The asker of that question now seem a fool. Full marks for effort maybe, but all efforts not counted because all shots landed on the wrong board.
Imagine... 6 Xs, all landing on ur NEIGHBOUR's board. Tragic. Feats which would have reaped accolades now bring cries of shame and disgrace. Am I in the wrong lane, or am I shooting at the wrong board? Is either at fault? Should there even be blame?
And tragic is he who found out, he that only realised that at the end of that end, when it is curtain call, when ending credits are shown. Too late to change? When it is at the end, when all are tired and weary... Why was such no communicated earlier? Why must it wait till the end?
Why must it come to this?
And yet is has, and so it shall be. Perhaps with time, the feelings would resurface. Perhaps with time, the love will shine thru the debris again. Forget the questions of 'what if's, leave them to God. He gives and takes away, so what is to be, will remain, what is not to be will be taken away.
All that remains is to pray. He will heal, He will salve the pain. He will make non-communication less onerous than it is. He will comfort broken hearts, He will mend sundered flesh. He will be relied on for support in the darkness that lies beyond.
Where is the light that shines and guide my way? Where is the voice that used to bring a smile to my face? Memories are all I have left to fall on, memories vivid yet filmsy. But its all I have got. When I asked for an independent love, never did I expect God to sport me thus.
In loneliness my thoughts crystalize, in quietness I regain my drive.
Now I know why all I did seem thankless and unappreciated, because that is the truth. All that I did, purportedly out of love, was repugnant and redundant to the receiver. All that I did, added to the list of wrongs and inflicted, flies upon a pile of rotting waste.
Questions of whether such acts brought happiness becomes a moot point. How can additional rot perfume the stench of the existing pile? The asker of that question now seem a fool. Full marks for effort maybe, but all efforts not counted because all shots landed on the wrong board.
Imagine... 6 Xs, all landing on ur NEIGHBOUR's board. Tragic. Feats which would have reaped accolades now bring cries of shame and disgrace. Am I in the wrong lane, or am I shooting at the wrong board? Is either at fault? Should there even be blame?
And tragic is he who found out, he that only realised that at the end of that end, when it is curtain call, when ending credits are shown. Too late to change? When it is at the end, when all are tired and weary... Why was such no communicated earlier? Why must it wait till the end?
Why must it come to this?
And yet is has, and so it shall be. Perhaps with time, the feelings would resurface. Perhaps with time, the love will shine thru the debris again. Forget the questions of 'what if's, leave them to God. He gives and takes away, so what is to be, will remain, what is not to be will be taken away.
All that remains is to pray. He will heal, He will salve the pain. He will make non-communication less onerous than it is. He will comfort broken hearts, He will mend sundered flesh. He will be relied on for support in the darkness that lies beyond.
Where is the light that shines and guide my way? Where is the voice that used to bring a smile to my face? Memories are all I have left to fall on, memories vivid yet filmsy. But its all I have got. When I asked for an independent love, never did I expect God to sport me thus.
In loneliness my thoughts crystalize, in quietness I regain my drive.
posted by Zachary Shim | 11:51 am
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