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Sunday, September 17, 2006

the ones with stagnant souls

a character in a book said, the only appropriate feeling for those who live between the pages of something you wrote, is love. something like that.

i was thinking of how unfortunate that kind of fate is. being tied to creatures not existing - not in the material sense - and harbouring feelings that which are possibly stronger than those we have for real living breathing people. i could relate. it is a hurt in my chest which was there eversince i picked up my first book and wrote my first words.

looking at myself in an outsider's mainstream point of view, it all seems terribly pathetic. as if i am unworthy of any human attention or affection such that i would turn to seeking companionship from unconscious fictional beings with stagnant souls and without any palpability.

i have no excuses other than my inevitable sloth with regards to being a social being. it requires too much effort and is most often a road to gradual destruction.

still, biting my lips i do confess and declare that i desire - fervently - the warmth of true friendship and the jigsaw-puzzle-fit of a soulmate. yet all i really want to watch them from afar and write them a story or a poem or sketches of portraits or simply those impulsive cartoons i so love doodling, so i could reduce (or elevate) them into permanent ink with stagnant souls whom i can properly fall in love with.

i can't describe this bittersweet existence of a voyeur. i can't describe loving something unattainable and more so, intangible.

with despair, i realised that maybe it is not about them at all. maybe it is all about me and how much fear and love i have for myself. it was at this point then i further realised that living in this world is all about selfishness. being able to feel good about one's self at the end of the day.

i am but just one of the many species of human beings and it gives me comfort and a sense of assurance that i somehow conform to selfish nature of an average human being.

now after recording jumbled thoughts, honestly i cannot begin to understand what i just wrote. my weakness has always been writing gibberish feelings seasoned with sprinklings of inklings which do not make any sense or hold any form of dignified truth.
Posted by NHJ 9/17/2006 05:11:00 pm