In some weird way

I can hear noises, people talking. Everything is spoken in a language not heard often by me. When I hear myself speak, the language sounds alien, the person feels like another. This is a part of my heritage, and I perhaps I should feel more of a kinship with it, and all I can think is when is my train? I am playing the part of an observer more than ever in my life. All these people, here assembled, for this day, for this person, no longer among us. Each of them made up of different ambitions, different agendas, but also real sorrow. It’s hard to reconcile the almost cartoonish versions of them that have presented to me in stories, with the real people, who seem so much more. Not to say that I have new found affection for them, or love or respect. These are people I did not think I would ever have to know in my life. And yet, here I am, wondering what it must be like to them, and to live their lives.

Secret Secrets

Ok, let me preface this by saying, my friend is a jackass! Alright, moving on.

I am not a secret person really, very few things about myself embarass me. Still, here goes...

1) When I am all by myself, I like to daydream. I make up situations in my head and let my mind play them out. A therapist might call it an escape mechanism, I call it a good way to spend the time I am on the tube.

2) I can't sleep alone in the dark. I am 23 and I still need a light on somewhere in the house if I am alone at night. Sad, I know.

3) Up until recently, I have had a crush on every single boy that my best friend has.

4) I hate radishes, absolutely loathe them. I can eat any other vegetable but them.

5) I've read the first 20 pages of Great Expectations over 10 times, I've never ever read the whole book.

6) I've never been in love. Except for once, almost.

7) Sometimes, I DON'T think marriage is a meaningless institution created to perpetuate the myths of monogamy and happy families.

8) I am actually a very kind person. I never refuse a request for help.

9) Girls find me very attractive, which is truly unhelpful.

10) Till I was 15 or so, when I cried, there would be no tears. Seriously.

Ok, now I am supposed to tag somebody, so I tag Asher Jay.

The Nature of Loss

To those of you that know me, the title is not really a mystery. I recently lost somebody that I have loved my whole entire life, and she isn't the only one that is lost. I find that I am some how stuck mid-river without a paddle, and life seems to make even less sense than usual. I feel like crying is futile, and agonizing over the what ifs and if onlys is of no avail. And yet, my mind is flooded with questions and memories and anger, and even guilt, and many times, it is all I can do to keep it together. Because, as much as this hurts me, it hurts some people even more, and these are people that I love.

I wish I had more profound realizations about death, some epiphany that has come in the middle of the night, causing me to leap out of my bed to furiously pound away at my keyboard, in hopes of getting it all down before it vanishes. Alas, that is not to be so. I have no answers, only more questions. And those, it would seem are endless.