Relapse

A faint zephyr floated by. The wind chimes tinkled, like peals of laughter.

It ought to have been soup for the soul, a reminder of those halcyon days, finally some tranquil wave of relaxtion to warm that frosty heart.

But to him, it was anything but. The sharp intonation resonated through the air. He envisaged every particle vibrating as the ripple edged towards him. Menacing. Like a tidal wave rushing headlong. To crush him.

They rang again. Crystal clear. Clear as mud. The chink of metal against metal. Cold hard steel. Relentless assault on his cerebrum. Reverberations in his head. Echoes once again bouncing off those dull grey walls. Voices. Shadows. Murmuring.

A distant past back to haunt him.

He ran. Fled from the past, escaped the present, decided there was no future.

The wind whistled in his ears. For what seemed like an eternity. All his life, he just wanted to scream. But now, no tears flowed, no sound uttered. An end. Closure.

Cancer

He lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been sprinting in a hundred metre dash. He had awoken from a vivid nightmare, into another day of tiresome ordeals.

His hands were pressed against his head; his head, burning beneath his fingers as though someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to his skin.

Staccato. Bursts of pain.

He didn't want to open his eyes; didn't want to surrender his soul to another day in hell.

Crescendo. The throbbing in his skull was on the ascendency.

Memories flashed by; unrolling like a film reel on fast forward. Sound clips reverberated in his head, rebounding off the inner walls of his dream box. Echoes - a reiteration of the past. A reflection, a reply. Repercussions in repitition.

Climax. The agony achieved its acme. Cerebral activity overload. The torment and the heartache, the anguish and the affliction.

Spreading like a malaise.

veils

you've really got to give it to some pple. how they manipulate. conciously or unconciously. its terrible and terrifying. the lies? i dunno i really dunno. its tough seeing through all these veils of untruths and half truths. of emotions and stress. pressure and friendships.

its difficult. especially when your eyes are hurting like mine. no. not from tears. their DRY!!!! i look like some scary monster with bloodshot eyes. as if my face wasn't bad enough.

Nom de Dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d'encul� de ta m�re!

why do i even bother. everytime i go, we lose. i come back injured. i couldn't sleep last night with that screwed up lower back. AND i hurt my groin. !@$$* add the fact that some things keep echoing in my stupid head. AND the fact that i'm bleedin like a mad man from my lips. everytime i pick up an apple or something to eat my lips crack when i bite and blood starts trickling down my apple. my skin is drying up and cracking too. AND my eyes are so dry and sore their nearly perpetually blood shot. i had to get a bottle of eye drops yesterday >.<

AND add the fact that i'm missing all the fun stuck at home having tuition every day. i can't take this much longer. rmun on the 14th. fashion parade not done. *shakes head and rolls eyes*

hong kong. 17th. breathe. hong kong. 17th. that's all i'm living for right now.

boys and girls

i watched it on tv last night.

i cried.