The same old blood rush with a new touch.

The pool deck will always be crowded.
Noisy children, noisy parents, noisy trainers.
But right this minute, just before your race begins, your ears do something funny, fuzzing out everything around you.
And at the same time you’re so very wonderfully aware. Of every single thing that occurs in your vicinity.
A tensed kind of alertness, mingling with the tension in your muscles.
You unconsciously touch your head, knowing full well they’re there and still, almost helplessly beyond your own control, your hands reach up to check for your cap and goggles.
Better safe than sorry, a faraway voice mutters to you. You don’t want to be the idiot floating around without her main tools of trade.
Someone passes by and asks a few non committal questions.
“Which event? Anymore events today? What’s your best?”
Blah, blah.
They wish you good luck and walk away, you acknowledge them, barely remembering they were ever there.
A whistle blows.
“Participants on the block.”
You’re very aware of the blood rushing through your veins, the way your heart is threatening to hammer right out of your body.
A gory mental image of your heart lying around besides the starting block, flashes before your eyes and a silly, nervous giggle escapes you.
The person on the next block turns to look at you with her lens-shielded eyes. Smiles at you and wishes you good luck. You smile back, trying to remember her credentials.
Swam for XYZ club, placed third in the state meet last year – you’ve beaten her once, you tell yourself.
Lovely girl.
The starter is ready to give the command.
Your heart races faster and the adrenaline pumps through your blood stream as you assume starting position.
“Take your mark.”
You grab the block, remembering the details – the stroke, the competition, who you’re swimming for.
And then there’s the gunshot.
With nothing to do but dive.
And then finally there’s nothing but you.
You, the cold, cold water and the faceless entities on either side of you.
You remember nothing and no one.
Except your stroke and how wonderful this feels.
And somewhere in between the adrenaline-fuelled, frenzied, yet smooth strokes, you congratulate yourself for having taken the plunge.
Because you couldn't possibly have missed this for anything in the world.
-----

Who knew that could be such great preparation for real life?
=P

lol.
Irony is so marvelously idiotic sometimes.

Staying awake to chase dreams

September 28, 1.44 am.

It's one of those nights that I'm getting used to of too much twisted thought and too little (much needed) sleep.

I can't even find anything in my facebook profile that I can change.
What rubbish, no?

I think I'm also suffering from writer's block again, after a few very solid days of blogging.
I have a feeling it'll be quite a while before I come up with a decent post again. Sigh.

On the brighter side, Grey's Anatomy season 4, episode 1 should be available for download tomorrow, woohoo! And I should be getting Prison Break season 2 soon enough. And Heroes will be starting soon although I've forgotten when exactly. It's been so long since I've actually watched a TV show on television. Heh.

Songs that are currently stuck in my head:
= Here in my room - Incubus
"Participants all in black and white
You enter in fullblown technicolour"
= Falling away with you - Muse
"So I'll love whatever you become
And forget the reckless things we've done"
= Cold - Crossfade
"Like a drug that's got me so high"
= It's dangerous business just walking out your front door - Underoath
"Full speed ahead this seems to be the place"
= My own summer - Deftones
"Hey you, big star, call me, when it's over."
= Wish you were here - Incubus
"And in this moment I am happy...happy"
= I miss you - Blink 182. [Then again, it's not like this song ever really goes out of my head. I imagine the lyrics are tucked away somewhere in every crevice of my brain. What an appealing thought, right?]
"Don't waste your time on me,
You're already the voice inside my head"
= Passive - A Perfect Circle
"Leaning over you here, cold and catatonic
I catch a brief reflection of what you could and might have been"
= Can't stop - Red Hot Chilli Peppers
"Ever wondered if it's all for you?"

Why yes, I do enjoy imparting entirely useless information, thankyouverymuch. =]

There are so many random, abstract thoughts racing through my head right this minute but I don't find it in my vocabulary to translate them in words. Gah.

Like you care, anyway.

Let us now pretend to be really upbeat about life and click pictures of ourselves in dark, smoky locations. Maybe that will make us cool? We'll even wear the skinny jeans or act emo, if you prefer. Hey, whatever floats your boat.

"Being cool makes people bore you" - Calvin.

And that, folks, will be tonight's elegant parting riposte.

Cheers.

[It just occured to me what a waste this post is for a title like that - which btw, is a lyric from Falling away with you - but gah, it's exactly what it feels like. Goodnight and goodbye.]

Concise.

There are moments like these when you're glad to be alive.

And then there are moments like these when you're anything but.

“I’ll give you everything you want except that thing you want.”
- U2.

[A summary of the last 48 hours.]

Waking up to nothing

You know you’re waiting for something.
Because it all feels so empty.
The days run into the nights and the nights turn into those miserable mornings that you’re forced to wake up.
Wake up and paint a face yet again.
Somewhere deep down in the very centre of your being, You struggle to break free.
Tear through the facades, cut through the bullshit painted exterior that’s so beaten and weathered and still, like a roof it stays over you, protecting You from everything outside.
Someone said it’s better to build walls around you, because when you’re ready you can climb over those walls to face the world.
And do you want to?
Do you want to face this two faced, shit hole of a world that questions you over and over again for everything and nothing at all?
Every word you say?
Do you want to face this terrible mirror?
That shows you nothing you can’t live without?

But still you wake up every morning.
Listen to your music.
Talk to the people.
Make your excuses.

Because you’re waiting.
And you don’t know what you’re waiting for.

But there’s got to be something, right?
Something more to this treacherous monotony.

Curl up and shut your eyes.
Shield your poor little shriveled up heart for a little while longer.
Because there’s nothing else to do -
But wait.

Out cold.

You know what would be really weird?

If we were all, every single one of us, figments of somebody's imagination.
A part of a dream, they haven't yet woken up from.

Think of it this way:
Your existence, your reality, your every single thought and feeling -
dangles by the very flimsy thread of someone else's subconsciousness.

Heh, how's that for vulnerable?

Survived the plague, floated the flood,
Just peeked our heads above the mud.
No one's immune, deadening bells;
My God, will we survive ourselves?!
[Light Grenades - Incubus]

O.o

it's funny how, sometimes, reality is a reflection of.. well, reality.

the underdogs maybe stealing the glory
or the key thespian could have fallen off the stage..

but there are always those lunatics in the sidelines, dancing for no discernible reason

sometimes it's almost like the only people who're going to win?
aren't in it to win at all.

the only people who find the point,
don't know there is one.
the only people who are magnificent..
barely even know what it means.

those lunatics in the sidelines who're always dancing for no apparent reason.

something rehearsed,
something spontaneous.
someone falls,
someone turns a cartwheel.
who cares?
as long as there's dancing.

and then, finally, there's triumph.

those bloody lunatics in the sidelines - dancing away for reasons little known to anyone but them..

[Since I was asked by more than one person.. I put the comments option back. Now use it, bitches. =) ]

Gallantry or Cowardice?

And once more it's the awkward silence that wins.

It's more than I can do to keep talking.
Keep filling the silence.
I'm trying to shutup.
But you won't let me.

If I could only, just for a little bit keep quiet.
So you can see that I'm not a fool.
I'm not an incoherent imbecile.
But why is it that's all I'm reduced to?
Where's the power?
Where's the composure?
Where's the me that I've learned to recognise?

The me that you should have learned to recognise.

There's too much here.
Too much in the silence.
Why is it so guilty?

I think it's time for deliberation.
Deliberation and something, anything.
'Cause clocks are ticking and time's a-wasting.

So hush up for a bit.
Don't keep finishing the quiet because
I?
I won't stop you.
But for heaven's sake.
Awful, awkward silence?
Really?


[i disgust myself.
gah.]

say goodbye to heaven.

Come, my precious.
Let me light you afire.
Let me burn you and watch this pretty, pretty skin
... scorch to black cinder.
Why do you cry, my precious?
Why do you scream and struggle so?
Can it possibly be broken wonder is it that makes you twist and squirm?
Can it possibly be a breakdown of sensation?

How can I say, my precious?
How it delights me to watch you drown.
To watch that pretty, pretty hair choke your pretty, pretty neck
And to watch you sink to watery grave-
Of my words and your thoughts
Speak with me, my precious
Why do you weep so silently?
Could it be the jarring reflection?
Or could it be the tuneless lament?

How do I hate my precious?
Let me count the ways.
Break, break, oh break my darling
Break into a thousand trifling pieces
Let the wind scatter your broken remains
… far, far away.

Such fun it is, indeed, my dear.
To watch you destruct – so defunct, so foolish
So wonderful you could have been, my precious
But so empty you will be.