DISCONNECTED
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DISCONNECTED

My Soul...

DISCONNECTED

Blood Sisters

Can You Love Me For Me?

Dreamweaver

Fight

Just Because

Lady Hawk

Midst Of Your Presence

Mute

My Inspiration

999 Pieces

Panorama

Passing By

Pretty

Sandalwood

Scarlet

Sentimental

Tell Me

Today

Trippin

X-Factor


 

A prose:

The last time I remember slouching on the sofa, thinking of you; I swore never calling you again but somehow my fingers managed to get through your number. But no one answered, so I waited for four rings, six and then I hung up

I remember how it felt watching TV and I was overwhelmed by this incipient depression that gradually devoured the entire me until I managed to get up and threw the remote on the floor and everything else in my way, just because I was pissed off at how I was mistreated like shit, by others, by my friends and especially by you; to whom I thought would actually made a difference in my life and because I actually believed that you were an exception to all the bullshits I went through. But like the rest, you were no different

Well, you were once different and I got fooled, anticipating that we actually had something worth treasuring and it was different from any mindless relationships out there but like the rest, I guess it was the same. Ours was just coated with glittery icing that made it slight deceiving for a blind person like me to see. And I am sitting here, feeling exiguous, I just don't understand why you've to reform your mind, your heart and your soul, when you know we were meant to be soul mates. You basically barred all the means of communicating with me and even renounced my significance in your life, without even thinking how it’d make me feel

And it hurts. It triggers excruciating pain deep within when someone labels himself as my soul mate but at the same time, he defies my love and swore himself to stay away from bitchy people like me - from a bitch who actually gave a damn about you and your sorry ass life. To you, I am a bitch but a bitch who can probably offer a lot more than any bitches out there who you’ll ever encounter. And just maybe because I don’t like taking shits from anybody and maybe because I think and I use my brain and not my heart too often; it doesn’t open up opportunities to insult me. Maybe because I like to shout out my perspective and open up my very soul to in spite of what you do, what you think or what you say about me. Obviously, you can’t handle me. You don’t know me at all, when you say I’ve changed because I know, I’ve always been the Ms. Mood-swing me and because I’m a girl. But I am no ragdoll

Realistically, it breaks me when I’m desolately branded as an event on someone’s agenda. It stabs like hell when I’m devalued as a person by someone I love and it had to be you, why did it have to be you? But like I do something about it and I could always do something about it, it’s just that I don’t want to jump into conclusions or start a war. I guess I’m an extant person with high perseverance but limited patience and there’s only to a certain point where I can restrain and take a little bit of something then I start to get irritated, then I bicker and after awhile I start to do something about the chronic disease

But like dour people who are so thick as a brick, someone so captious as you; I’ve to use all other means of getting my message across and even have to lie and manipulate situations around to see how you’d feel being in my shoes. And I can tell it kills. I can tell that you’re pissed off at something that never once occurred. Your re-action is huge; you can’t even bear to see my face ever again. Or maybe even talk to me in person and straighten things out, or even at least call and see if I still exist, but like that would matter to you anyhow

So I call instead, four rings, maybe six?

Like an insomniac stalker, I call to see if you’re still around. I call to see how things are going at work, I call to see how your family is doing, I call to see how life’s treating you, I call just to hear your voice; in spite of your chilled "Yes" or "No" replies to me. Somehow, I could’ve sworn you had a much vast vocabulary than that. I could’ve sworn you want to deprive me of your life. But you say I’m over-sensitive

Well, I’ll be damned if I’m over-sensitive. I should be after the fight that separated us from weeks, (or even months) from now and even though we live in the same country, at the same city and even though your workplace is just about a few blocks from mine; it’s difficult for us to find our way back to each other just coz you say you’re busy and you’ll always be busy but I believe that if “there’s a will, there’s always a way” and in our case, there might never be a will or a way anymore; knowing you. And knowing you're a tough guy, you'd look straight into my eyes and explain all your grudges against me. But you don't. Please don't tell me your heart's been hardened by hatred too

And why do you even think that a break from each other would cool things off when you know very well that this conflict's derived from unnecessary separation on the first place? Somehow your so-called heroic, puerile idea of "test for perseverance" does not make sense. You’re so pathetic at times, you make me cry

Maybe that's why I never liked relationships. If I've predicted things would end this way, I would've never gone through a relationship with you at all. I would rather keep you as a friend than lose you, than lose me and lose us. You know, I never liked to let go. If I ever go, I’ll have to let go for good and I will stop believing. I can't believe you're making me do this; don’t make me leave; damn it, don't make me do this!

And now that you call me as a best friend and now that we’re just plain friends, you still treat me like shit. I don’t know if you’ll forever treat me like shit, I don’t know how long I’ll always feel like shit, I don’t know how long I can withstand this shit, but above all, I don’t know how long I can stay in this shit

But like now your voice is so cold, so heartless; I don’t even hear your usual "I-love-you’s" anymore. It fucking feels like I’m talking to a stranger, in this sick, torpid, listless client-customer conversation with this feeling that I'm just wasting your time. God, I can’t believe it took me this long to realize that it’s time to let go. Oh and I will go and I’ll leave you be. I’ll just have to get over you and I’ll be fine. I think there’s no point of staying when I’m not wanted. Coz I know when something's dead, just like a Valentine cactus; out of nowhere and unexpectedly too soon. Somehow, this line has been desultory, I don’t feel like talking anymore

I’ll hang up now. Good-bye.




 

 

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