Beyond the Invisible

it is time
to break the chains of life
if you follow you will see
what's beyond reality
beyond the invisible, enigma

blinking. i am staring too hard at the cursor. blinking.

i swear i am really staring too hard at the damn blinking object. my hands fervently clicking and closing my explorer window. is this how i am going to squander the next entire hour?

it's already eightish. my stomach is depleting fast of all its resources. my engine is churning out its last few feeble calls.

still waiting for bryan's call. remembering his handsome features, hanzo sharp wits and his fruitless attempts to keep an immaculately clean shaven jaws. he can be my dinner everyday.

the office is getting colder of late. or so it seems. perhaps it is my piteous soul leaving my body. wandering round picking up its broken pieces. or in its whole nameless form, wailing for help to cure those little cancers festering inside me. i used to name it ghost.

there are some lessons that are etched too deeply into our minds, that we cannot force ourselves to unlearn them. when that melancholic tone fades on its trembling note, the saddness does not end with it. it continues to echo in our minds, slapping those wrenching cords in our hearts.

maybe years down the road, when we are no longer holding hands. that when we meet someone new, we will still carry much pain with us. perhaps we will never heal completely. that when you have given every inch of your love to someone else, you realised there is still this lingering pain in between.

we are both walking down the road. carrying a bagful of pain. a loadful of broken dreams. two roads that lead to two different destinations. a road that will never intersect again. whose vow was once to span out an everafter fairytale together, now each writing an epilogic ending of a different story on its own.

live not in the past. a friend once told me. wash away those memories. heal the soul that has been cut so swiftly as if it has been slited by that hanzo sword. fatal and deep. bloodless. and the scar will stay in me for the rest of my life.

or perhaps we are all waiting. for that new opportunity in our lives. for that new love that will cherish us once more. for that new job that is screaming for our attention. we are all waiting. like the homeless man standing by the road waiting for that penny. like the forgotten mother longing for her son to visit her in the old home.

waiting.