I wrote this long time ago - probably 2 or 3 years ago? - and I never published it. Which is weird. So, here..I'm publishing this now.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's twenty-two minutes past the hour of two, on the second day of the second month of the twenty-tenth year..here I am, staring at an untitled notepad and doing something that I haven't done or haven't tried doing - with full concentration - for quite sometime now...
I'm trying to write.
Rain is beating heavily on my roof like a thousand lil' bullets from the sky - I wish one would hit me right on my head...My partner is dozing off in bed and I can't sleep because his snores would wake me and/or his breathing would suck my oxygen like a vacuum in the abyss.
It's like being caught in between Charybdis and Scylla...a rock and a hard place.
So, here I am. Again. With my bracer and rings on my left hand - for luck - TRYING to do what I have always done when I find it hard to sleep - aside from watching porn or read - I am writing again.
One issue of the graphic novel by Neil Gaiman called The Sandman is entitled Calliophie - the muse. One of the seven daughters of the greek god Zeus and Mynesmone - memory.
Calliophe was enticed - ensnared - beguiled by a not-so-best-selling-author who was in need of an inspiration. He was successful, this author, in ensnaring the muse Calliophe. He used the muse as inspiration for his work - his books.
And by inspiration - Neil Gaiman didn't sugarcoat it - I meant by FUCKING the muse til she became pale and thin - because after the fuck, words would come flowing into your brain and you'd begin to write. Like the author did in the graphic novel.
I had a muse once - a guy, of course: but still you call it a muse; check Google - he was fun and great to be with, not so long ago. I wrote and wrote here like almost everyday.
I don't know what - maybe it was joy that I had a friend who - virtually - has the same interests as I have and not to mention someone who doesn't give a rat's ass about the world - like I do - sometimes.
Keep your head out of the gutter, I didn't fuck my muse. Nor did I have ANY intention to. He was straight - straight as an arrow while I was crooked like a bow. But still, we went out together like best friends since birth and drank a couple of beers and smoked and ate and laughed and played and talked and talked.
And he'd come to my side at the snap of a finger.
Call me unfaithful, call me morbid, call me pale, call me unjust and whatever - but I never did a thing with his STRAIGHT or CROOKED thing - my muse. Prinze or Xilent Xmoker or whatever name he has fashioned for himself nowadays.
But then again, THAT was in the past. Past tense. Dead. Gone. Poof! SNAP! Again, like a snap of my finger - he was gone. Our bond - magical or whatever it was - was severed, by I don't-know-even-now-what.
He has gone away. Like a shadow lost in the light..I miss him. Really...
Right now, forty-two minutes past the hour of two on the second-day of the second month of the twenty-tenth year...I am writing without the help of my muse but with grief - anger - pain - spite - angst - feel free to pitch it whatever!
If I had but one super power or special skill or if I were one of the heroes in Heroes or mutant in X-men, and if someone would ask me what super powers would I like to have? I know what to answer now. I now know WHAT kind of power or ability or skill I'd die to possess.
I won't read other people's thoughts - because if memory serves, M told me that reading other people's thoughts would mean MORE worries for me. I wouldn't want that - my thoughts are probably messier than anyone elses.
Flying would suck. What if someone would fly too and blast you with his laser vision in mid-air like Superman? You're toast!
Being invisible would mean - you're a crook and you want to steal something or you're a wuss and just want to hide yourself from everything!
I wouldn't want those - I wANT SILENCE!
DOTA (Defense of the Ancients) has this hero that's called The Silencer or Nortrom, a Blood-Elf.
His ultimate is called GLOBAL SILENCE. Which would mean bad-luck for everyone especially those heroes who depend on skills - because once the Silencer casts his ULTIMATE everyone in the map would be silenced and cannot casts spells and would be handicapped in battle.
I wish I could do that, like what Merlin did when the men were having a meeting and no one listened to him or Harry Potter who can just flick his wand and shout SILENCIO!
I wish!
Or, putting my fantasies aside, I'd wish I'd be mute or deaf for an hour and be at PEACE! It would be like Sookie Stackhouse - a telepath - in True Blood, when she met Bill Compton - a vampire who had no thoughts because of him being undead. It was bliss for Sookie or Edward cullen to Bella Swann, in Twilight.
Today, I almost exploded because of pressure. My nape, head, back hurts still. LIKE A BITCH!
I HATE - LOATHE - ABHOR it when people would breathe down my neck and PRESSURE and NAG what to do.
My partner - as innocent as he is to everyone - has always been himself to me, like I am to him.
A bickering - nagging - condescending - hypocrite and sardonical lil' bitch that's what he is!
Day by day. Every-freaking-day-noon-night. In bed, while watching a movie, while eating. He sings and/or whistles the same old song/tune.
It's DEAFENING! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH! And I don't know what to do already. Seriously.
1. I went BALLISTIC. He kept on singing/whistling.
2. I went silent. HE KEPT ON SINGING til chorus!
3. I retaliated - I sang too - HE SANG the more.
Yes, he is my partner and has been for three years now. And I love him - that's not a question. BUT THEN AGAIN - there are those times when one cannot just take it anymore.
He doesn't have timing or exact precision or excellent marksmanship like an archer does - when saying things or asking me to do things to ADD up to the heavy load that has been breaking my back the whole day!
And then if you sing about how exhausting your day was - he WOULD sing the more about his day and how he stood for hours on end at work and talked and not taking a seat.
I remember, when I went away from this town to explore new things in another place, there was a school for the deaf/mute near the place where I was living.
It was - of course - so quite. So serene. You couldn't hear children screaming or crying like the kids in our schools. No fighting or trouble of any kind would be heard from the outside.
A SILENT and PEACEFUL place where I could probably THINK and NOT blow up and explode like an atom bomb or a NUKE!
Global Silence.
I wish I could cast it on HIM or to whoever - like my mom - so that everytime HE gets ready to blow the first note of the never-ending song that he has been singing ever since he learned the tune.....I won't HEAR it anymore.
I won't be DEAFENED by the same old tune. That has been hammering my SKULL like backhoe!
Yeah, sure, he's my partner, I know, everyone knows that. BUT STILL, I can't carry the world or every crazy thing that comes with everyone I know. I can't DO THAT EVERY SINGLE DAY!!!
I'm CRAZY enough already! INSANE even. I can't have someone who will ALWAYS NAG and BICKER and be CONDESCENDING and be a HYPOCRITE and would ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS plead INNOCENT and would ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS squeeze something out from you just for you to say the thing that he wants YOU to say - even if you are already on the verge of ripping your eyes out from their sockets from saying NO a bajillion and one times, HE STILL would SQUEEZE you tighter and tighter just for you to say what he wants to hear and be PLEASED.
Like a demon would after closing a deal with a hapless mortal fool...
I know, I'm complaining AGAIN - it's what I do best, next to bending over and playing dead - but I NEED to channel all this ANGST that's been supressed inside me. For quite sometime now, thank you.
There are no shrinks available in this old-boring-monochrome-BUT-safe-town, so I don't have a choice but to WRITE it on rock!
I don't want to go ballistic again or hulk up or let my OTHER personality - the one with the rage virus AND salivating like a rabid dog to boot - to take over and finish it for me.
This must be very boring. But who better to tell this to, but you?
I wish you'd get your silent HOUR or MINUTE once you need it
I really do...
I must obey: his art is of such power,
- Caliban
The Tempest; Act I, Scene II
The course of true love never did run smooth
- Lysander
A Midsummer Night's Dream; Act I, Scene I
~~~~~ The Bard of Avon...
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