Tidal

There is just too much going on. Weeks seem to past by like days, hours seem to past by like mere minutes and the clear definition of betrayal seem to pass on as a nudge of meaningless friendly ignorance. There is just too much going on. Don’t stand so close to me. There is just too much going on right now. But it is calm under the water…in the pink of my presence that is slowly being pulled as the tidal of emotions rise and bring forward the blue of my oblivion.

Chinese New Year is in less than 2 weeks time! Omigosh…you want to hear something funny? I just look through my supposedly "pile of new clothes" and discovered that I’ve only bought a beach pants, a jogging shorts and one red T-shirt that was a gift from someone. Gosh…things are just so hectic right now! I went to OU yesterday in the hopes of finding some attire and also to chase after a dateless entity only to find that the whole shopping mall is packed with last minute shoppers and to be abandon in the midst of the commotion.

What did I do then? Well…of cost sulking is out of the context. No pun intended here, and I went off to catch "Cloverfield" with my bro at TGV which serve as a saviour of the day. The movie, in my opinion, was a breath of fresh air in its genre. I won’t reveal more in this post, though I might in another.

I can’t really reserve more time for writing aimless contradictions in this little sad excuse for literature. But, I just need a little escape as a form of reservoir for the water of emotions that I am willing to spill but unable to portray through the act of physicality. What is the use of letting teardrops fall when there is no clear reason for it to even form? I mean seriously, in a degree of a matter that bring such mediocre angle, it is only sensible to adapt to the picture and display or should I say exude, a certain degree of savoir faire.

So seriously I am perfectly fine. Not living in the past of a bleak history and instead moving on with the uncertainty of an unknown future and the harshness of the day’s present time. And no, I am not in denial. So don’t give me a psychological perception and just leave me be. I just need a mean of medium to hold the tidal of emotions.

I’m sorry if you don’t get the lyrical portrayal of an ordinary pace. I guess the intention of this writing is really intended not to be deciphered. But if you are able to decode its crptic meaning…don’t revel in your assumption. How are you to know of my feelings and intentions behind an illusionary facade? Just don’t stand so close to me. At least not now.