I tried to speak with a golden tongue
And it failed to make a difference
So I lashed out with fierce words
But that couldn’t earn me any reverence
Against my nature, I could turn violent
If it only budged you an inch
Guess I’ll just be, forever, silent
Inch by inch, everything’s a cinch!

The first time I glanced my eyes at you,
Knew, my heart at once, that I’d seen you before.
The stories of a hundred past lives suddenly came true,
The stories of you always making me want more.

The first time you uttered those meaningless words,
I heard not one, but I heard you.
Up we went to the sky, flying like birds,
And like fishes we swam, deep in the vast ocean blue.

Before I even met you, in my heart, I knew
You had come to put an end to my despair.
You, who is old like oak, yet inspiringly new,
The one with almond eyes, and the scorpion stare.

It has been long since I wrote something. The length measured not by the amount of time that has gone by between the last and the current post but by the amount of comfort and nurturing that is provided by self-expression, the highest of all expressions. There has been none.

I have tried a few times to come back and write both here saving half-written posts in drafts and in my mind where things don’t stay but they don’t leave either. I cannot find a way to express mys-elf right now. Not to people around me, not here, and not even to mys-elf.

Understand that silence does not always mean that there is nothing to be said. It often can mean that there is more to be said than can actually be said, sometimes due to fears of our own and other times due to the lack of understanding and an earnest ear to hear it. I shall be back again when I’ve found a better outlet. Till then, I am withdrawing mys-elf from this.

Days pass by like minutes. I don’t realize when it’s over and a new cycle of sunrise and sunset follows. It’s meaningless and trivial to know anyway but lately, it has caused people around me some troubles. I’ve been late many times and I’ve procrastinated much.

When I drink coffee or tea, it has to be hot. My throat needs to feel the heat inside. Otherwise, it is like I never had anything.

The computer has become nothing but a tool. Entertainment has the highest priority with which I have no particular problem but it should not be hogging all my time.

Practicing the guitar does not come to mind when I feel bored and am sitting idle. And when I am with someone and doing something, a side look at it lying there makes me feel guilty.

Books, I try to read but they make me fall asleep. During the day or the night. There’s no difference. I have not been able to read anything for more than 30 minutes without feeling the urge to sleep. At times I’ve given in and slept but I have learnt how to ignore it too. But the reading cannot be continued after that.

The dream phase is here again. I can again remember my dreams. They are not as bizarre as they have been before but they still lack meaning. There is again a blank face there. It’s confusing and frustrating. So I tend not to think much of it during the day. And I forget about it in a day or two. But I want to document everything.

Material desires have been very overwhelming. I have things and I want things. But what I really need is peace. And some love. I need to be pushed. I need to be kicked. I need to be made aware of mys-elf.

I talked to her again. I’d have hardly imagined anything going right, but it was wonderful.

I’ve been putting things off quite a lot lately. My friends don’t complain when I do. But I know that I need not test their patience.

I have to learn to find balance between giving in love and desiring in love. It’s all topsy-turvy. I cannot accept the apology. But I cannot fail to be empathetic either.

I have not written long emails in a long time. Sigh.

Somewhere between the totally subconscious state of free association writing and the completely conscious process of drafting-writing-editing, this is written.

P.S. I dwell on promises made to me and assurances given too. Is it wrong to expect a person to fulfill what they promised even if currently they are not very capable of doing it? I wonder what’s the point of a promise then.

Oh Cathy, why won’t you come to me?
I wait for you, and I’ve waited an eternity.
I breathe and live only to see your face once more
Once! before I die and lay in earth with you at peace.

Haunt me! Drive me mad! Take any form but come to me!
Take me with you, only do not leave me in this abyss
Where I cannot find you; where there’s not a single joy for me.
I shall live, die and not utter a sigh, if you were to come back, only to say good bye.

Oh Cathy! You were my only joy on earth and I ask not for more,
Don’t find me unsuitable to be with, now that you’re no more!
Talk to me and let me hear that alluring voice again
Say my name, oh for once, and ease me of all my pain

Come hither dear Cathy, my love,
Come from the land beneath or the sky above!
Bring me not joy or peace, for they mean not a thing to me,
Just come to me, you’re all I wish to see.

My body aches from the pain of revenge and sullenness,
And my soul longs to unite with it’s other-half.
I forgave my murderer but yours I could not!
Come, if only to seek revenge, it’s better than naught!

Your soul shall not rest in peace for a moment
While I shall live, and I’ll keep summoning you,
In hopes to save me from myself, from this life I so loathe.
Come once Cathy! Either murder me or give me the will of a life anew!

Written from the point of view of Heathcliff who cannot bear the separation from his other half, Cathy. He longs to see her again after she’s gone and imagines the time when she died.