Freedom.

Now, I am free.

The chains that once bound me had finally been set free. Broken by the truth, shattered by thy grace.

Once I thought I would succumb to the darkness but you who were once my passion, have shown me that the mire which I was trapped in was naught but a figment of my mind.

You were once my most cherished supporter. But now I know, I have never been alone and I never will be.

I am an artist and you are no longer my muse.

Life had given me another, and it is them now that I will cherish. It is to them now that my duty, my promise and my pledge must and will be.

For we have our own journey in life that we needs undertake. I pray that our paths will cross again, as friends wont to.

You are my keeper, the one that kept me in check, the one that I will remember.

At the end of the dark and winding path, it is you two who have brought me back to my light.

I am never alone. And I will never be.

Writing had always been my therapy and it will always continue to be.

Down.

We have so many things to be upheld by. The same things that cradle, nurture and lift us up.

They fill us with hope, passion, and life. Like a vessel to be filled, a candle to be lit.

But when they leave me, they leave me a broken man. A hollowed-out replacement.

I used to adore writing, enjoy and relish it because it is a natural extension of myself. To express myself and what I have within.

Words, they paint a picture.

If a picture speaks a thousand words, I would have the thousand.

But now, words fail me.

In the face of an overwhelming multitude, I just want to break down and cry.

If you had only known how tired I am.

I am this close.

You’ve told me your existence has been nothing but pain and loss. Never feeling secure. Never having a home. You deserve so much, and I can get it for us. The life we’ll be able to have together once—”

“What kind of life will that be, Quinlan? The kind where we’re slaves to our hatred? Our rage? That’s what the dark side made me. That’s what it does. Nothing is ever enough. You get more, and more, but you’re never happy. It’s a trap baited with all the things you want most in life—and it’s not worth living. I already left that behind.”

Quinlan Vos and Asajj Ventress

Moving.

Looking back, maybe it all started with the wrong reasons on hand.

I don’t know.

So many things that could be yet it didn’t.

I realised I stop because I could never do it for the right reasons.

Isn’t it ironic that the philosophies that I used to espouse and believe in so strongly are now the exact things that push me away most?

I remember talking about how increased exposure allows one to be more in sync yet I realised now that it was completely wrong.

Maybe I wasn’t destined for such great things as some believed.

Maybe I just am one who will settle for simplicity with nothing but a knot and quandary.

Maybe I am hopeless and too far gone. Maybe I am not. Eitherway, I can no longer find the right reasons for me to care.

This might not necessarily be a bad thing, I guess. I suppose it just means that I know what are the most important things in my life.

This is simply not one of it, anymore.

Time to move on?

Hopeless

Barney: I love everything about her, and I’m not a guy who says that lightly, I’m a guy who has faked love his entire life, I’m a guy who thought love was just something idiots felt, but this woman has a hold on my heart that I could not break if I wanted to. And there have been times when I wanted to. It has been overwhelming and humbling, and even painful at times, but I could not stop loving her any more than I could stop breathing. I’m hopelessly, irretrievably in love with her. More than she knows.

And I do love her. I am hopelessly, irretrievably and irrevocably in love with her. I will do anything for her, to make her happy. She wants me to stay and I will not move. She wants me to go and I will leave. I reached that point whereby what she wants totally and completely overrides all that I want. It does not matter what I am looking for. All I know is her, and that whatever she wants, I will give it to her.

Does it make me a fool? An idiot? A moron?

I am afraid.

But even if making her heart whole means me breaking my own heart and using my own heart pieces to fill her voids, I will ask you what is the best way to break myself.

Hello my name is regret
I’m pretty sure we have met
Every single day of your life, I’m the whisper inside that wont let you forget
Hello my name is defeat
I know you recognize me
Just when you think you can win
I’ll drag you right back down again
’till you lost all belief
Oh these are the voices
Oh these are the lies
And I have believed in for the very last time
Hello my name is child of the one true king
I’ve been saved
I’ve been changed
I have been set free
Amazing grace is the song I sing
Hello my name is child of the one true king

What should I do with these feelings?
Throw them away? They are too strong to.
Move on? I’m a little too weak to.
Act on them? I’m not allowed to.

Being caught between a rock and a hard place, that must be easier.

Dream.

I look back at so many things. Old things are fascinating. We look at where we come from and we see where we are going.

I feel a little tugging, from the past. From the old things.

Sometimes, the old things make it into the present and they become something new.

People who didn’t work out and they manage to be your friends. And friends who now are nothing but familiar strangers.

Funny how life comes around in ways we never expect them to.

Today, I went to look at my readers. It’s a little sad, that after years, all my previous writing friends, WordPress readers, writers and people I met along the way stopped writing and reading on here.

It feels like they moved on and forgotten this little passion we used to share.

I found some very inspirational writers of late and they are something I want to be like, to maybe model my own WordPress after theirs.

I hope someday I can be a full-time writer. I don’t intend to stay in the navy for life, maybe the most part of it.

Is it delusional? Sometimes I feel like I have what it takes, sometimes I feel like I don’t. And I still am a little.. shy over what I write. It’s something I know I want to keep in my life, to read and to write.

So avoid using the word ‘very’ because it’s lazy. A man is not very tired, he is exhausted. Don’t use very sad, use morose. Language was invented for one reason, boys – to woo women – and, in that endeavor, laziness will not do. It also won’t do in your essays.

-N. H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society

I want to do.. many things.

To travel, to read, to write, to eat, to meet people, to explore, to discover, to try new things, to find new experiences and to love.

In a way, I suppose that my life of adventure is still early and there’s a lot of things waiting for me. I cannot find all the adventure in this place I am yet. The world is so big, I want to belong to all parts of it and none of it at the same time.