I figured that I am living life like I do tattoos. All anybody really wants is to be happy and live life to the fullest with minimal regrets, right? And my philisophy is really to just conveniently forget about the pain, hold the good parts dear to my heart and just concentrate on moving on to the next thing with those good parts. Some parts of it can be really really painful but you just have to sit through it like a champ because you wanna live life, whatever you have got inside of you, tapped and untapped. You want to live life to the fullest, to experience every angle of it, taste it on your tongue, the lingering overtaste in your mouth when you wake up the next morning, however you wanna do it, pain and without. And often than not, you remember the hurtful parts more vividly than anything else and you learn to avoid those mistakes. I think people call that 'growing up'.

Everyone wants to know if getting tattooed is painful, whether that pain is excruciating. Don't segments of your life hurt you to the point where for that moment, you wouldn't believe you could survive it? I'll always think, yes, of course getting tattooed hurts but that's largely the point why people get tattooed and you would always have it in you to conquering it and at the end, emerged all the more stronger and more beautiful.

Liesl's 7th death anniversary is just a couple days away now and coincidently, I'm archiving her 7th Letter. For the record, I've found it just absolutely, incredibly surreal and absurd that it has been so long. 7 whole years. Who was I for the past years? Who am I becoming? How did I ever get by those nights of immense yearning and pain? What ridiculous reasons did I have for me to wake up the very next day and not just rot in some kind of mindless guilt and loss? Why would I wanna continue living life as it was, pretending the day was filled with nothing but rainbows, kisses, and comfortable silence and love? Why? I suppose the reasons aren't really important anymore.

I dangle my feet, sitting at a crossroad. I wanna talk about her for as long as I possibly can but I I can't. I wanna remember her face and everything it meant to me but it's becoming more and more like an abstract artpiece that's fading. I wanna hold breadcrumbs in my palm and instantly feel my heart break. I wanna spend every evening just sitting by that traffic light where her life was so quickly snuffed out, where I felt her temperature gradually dropped, when I could only imagine still hearing her voice and listening to her breath.

I felt blood flowing through my fingers, and how it created an adhesive on my body where it landed on my shirt, the heavy wetness just draining away into a huge puddle of mess and nothingness, thick and what mess it made, a feeling I could never come to understand. A feeling I hope I never had to understand. I really don't know where I am going with this. have been trying to publish it for so long and nothing comes and I'm just babbling. It must be because I'm just too exhausting...forgive me.

It's time I live life.

"I'm not gonna live for you, or die for you
or do anything anymore for you
'cause you leave me here on the other side
won't you leave me here on the other side...
not gonna live for you, or die for you
or do anything...

not gonna shed one more tear for you...
at least not 'till sunday afternoon"

So yeah, I love to dwell, practically made it a profession but so what? This is me and nobody should care how I lead it. I could finally shed the pretense and show people who I really am and that they could just take it or leave it. If you think I'm terrible with this negativity and whatnot, then I am. I no longer wanna impress or try to belong or seek an alignment or worse, approval. I could lose friends and if they must go then I suppose they must. How do I try to explain what you can't know about? Why do I wanna waste my breath on you if all you fucking do is tell me what to do otherwise?

I gonna admit, I may be the last person brimming with positivity and that I don't believe in it anymore. I'm not sure if I ever believed in it but that doesn't necessarily automatically made me poster child for negativity. I just don't expect good things to happen is all. I don't try to bring anyone down with what I feel but only what is good for them, or at least works, in that moment. I tell people nice things about the future because unlike myself, they had it in them to believe in good things and I wanna promote that. I just want people to be happy.

If I Ever...

How many times have I hurt you
Made you cry
Made you yell out my name in despair
For me to change
For us to remain unchanged?

You asked if I heard you on your knees, begging please each night
You asked if I ever miss you when we're apart
You asked how I could have mended my own heart and break yours so hard
You asked if I ever wanted to set things straight, make it right

How many times have we been here
At this same position, in your room at this hour
How many times have you heard me slammed the door
And break all we ever own?

You asked if I heard you on your knees, begging please each night
You asked if I ever miss you when we're apart
You asked how I could have mended my own heart and break yours so hard
You asked if I ever wanted to set things straight, make it right

I would heal your wounds, fix your wings and I could
but I was weak-minded and took you for granted
Maybe I just didn't wanna be left behind
Maybe I thought you'd be better off without me tonight

You asked if I heard you on your knees, begging please each night
You asked if I ever miss you when we're apart
You asked how I could have mended my own heart and break yours so hard
You asked if I ever wanted to set things straight, make it right
And while you will never hear me say
I'd said all the time

Lies-l

I think it's time, we give it up
And figure out what's stopping us
From breathing easy, and talking straight
The way is clear if you're ready now
The volunteer is slowing down
And taking time to save himself

The little cracks they escalated
And before you know it is too late
For making circles and telling lies

You're moving too fast for me
And I can't keep up with you
Maybe if you slowed down for me
I could see you're only telling

Lies, lies, lies
Breaking us down with your
Lies, lies, lies
When will you learn

The little cracks they escalated
And before we know it was too late
For making circles and telling lies

You're moving too fast for me
And I can't keep up with you
Maybe if you'd slowed down for me
I could see you're only telling
Lies, lies, lies
Breaking us down with your
Lies, lies, lies
When will you learn

So plant the thought and watch it grow
Wind it up and let it go

©Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova, The Swell Season/Once ~ Track 5, Lies ~
http://www.haoting.com/musiclist/ht_1d264ee9844db2d7.htm


Lies, that would be how I would round up the circle...
I've hurt her
Now it's too late
Now that she's dead.
And I'm walking away
Or at least looks like I'm trying
I don't know if I wanna do this
This giving up and healing thing
It's placing me out there useless in the light
I am becoming angry again, remembering things I shouldn't have
Ice cream, our first kiss
Her bed, her hands, and lips...
And when I can't even lie no more, she said this to me.

As I walked in between the aises and moving like a crab from shelf to shelf, I wish time would push me further back into the past and keep me there. It was almost familiar; the smell of crusty old books with their verging coffee stain kinda brown rather than yellowed, overhandled pages when you flipped them real fast. The sort of pungent smell that hit your nostrils...and the immense concentration which resulted in the most spectacular silence, and internal conversations and adventures. If dogs could see colors, they'd see the most colorful spectrum hanging just above everyone's heads.

It was just like this, her room. It's a small room, really. The single-sized bed with crimson red sheets and white laces found its rightful place just beside the door, tiny bookcases housing the world's knowledge and secrets parked and lined the right angle of the left side of the rectangular room and bed. A desk with more hard covers sitting on the left edge remained unmoved and sandwiched between the bookcases and a wardrobe while strings of fairy lights criss-crossed, leaving intricate trails across the room's perimeter, doing wonders to light up exclusive spaces in the room with tiny bulbs emitting the softest, warmest and most comforting lights...and that to me, was home.

晚上睡不着，累了也不要紧， 因为累也已成了一种心情
习惯了就没事

痛也没关系，不要因为痛而害怕伤害自己
就是因为痛才更要去爱，去珍惜所有的一切
去追逐自己想要人生
不惜任何代价，去爱自己想爱的人

成天对着酒瓶诉说心事的我像个大白痴一样
坐在那里想念着你的脸，大声喊着你的名字又如何
你不会再出现
即使回来了，也不会是从前的你
命运就是如此爱捉弄人

我曾对你说过，无论你肯或不肯
我都选择继续等

因为太爱你我成了世上最自私的人
因为爱你我成了行尸走肉， 对生活不再充满憧憬或热忱
把你教给我的一切忘了
把你交给我的一切弄丢了

可是傻傻等了七年的我其实在等些什么
自己也不晓得
就是喜欢一直这样继续等着

最近因为一个陌生女生的出现让我的眼再次泛着泪光
她说她想认识你， 甚至会想尽办法接受你在我心里无人能取代的位置
她又有什么资格提起你的名字
她对你一窍不通
对我更是零了解
她的存在只会更加深我对你的思念和依赖

她真的没并要闯进我的生活， 打乱我的思绪
我希望她现在就消失，不再我面前出现

但若她真的离开了，我又会不会后悔?

她说她不要求什么，只要求在我最孤独，最需要被人疼爱的时候能牵着我的手，把我深深搂在怀里
她深信我不应该是一个人的
她也非常清楚我这辈子会持续地爱着你
若爱我，就非得比我还要爱你

可是我又是谁， 能对任何人做出如此无理要求?
她又是谁，竟异想天开地想企图拯救我
我不要一个陌生人的帮忙
我不要陌生人把时间和精力无谓花在我身上

What does she fucking knows about me?

Letters, Strings and All V

Dear Love,

God, I miss you. And it hurts like I've been stabbed repeatedly in my heart and have the blunt knife withdrawn infinite times. The violence should have raptured my heart and shred it up in a million bits but it did nothing. It was but raw pain. My heart continues to beat with an anger, seemingly at a gaping loss and emptiness. Everything I have created. I must be pathetic, writing these words every other day and knowing perfectly well it's all I'm left with. I ought to be strong; this internal chastising and self-pity could only hold up for so long. I feel I could taste separation in my mouth, in my entire being like it's tangible and I could tell you how much I despised it with utter contempt.

'Lex knocked gently on my door today. For a second there, I thought it was you and I could not hide my disappointment at all when it was anyone but you. I, however remained grateful for his company though. He's such a great and wonderful man anyone should be grateful just to know him. He brought cookies and that chocolatey thing you used to make me on days when it rained. He asked about your absence, how without you, the world seems quieter and less entertaining and fun and expressed his longing and concern for you. He told me that everything has a solution and that I should look for it. I knew the solution all along. It lies only in you. And apparently you guys fixed up some sort of a movie schedule or the likes every Friday evening. It's Friday tonight. Will you come? Wll you stay the night and go to bed with me? For now I go to bed with a black hole in my heart. And as I fill that abyss wth nothing that would work, I think about the things we could have done, words we could have said if we were still together now.

But I've grown even quieter than when I first realized I was deaf. Largely because a whole significant portion of me is missing or has been overshadowed by loneliness. I've eventually realized the difference between solitude and loneliness and what harsh lesson I had to go through. I'd recall posing that question in class and understanding no more than beyond the context. Now, I more than understand it. I feel it, each day.

liebe Ich Sie immer und mein Herz gehört nur Ihnen und sonst niemandem

Liebe,
Liesl
28 März 2002

Why Sir, it has always been vengeance. The same ol' fucking window, the same ol' fucking bullet and poor, poor, women...and love.

It's only a streak in between.

Letters, Strings and All IV

So here, Letter No. 4.

Dear Love,

You would think I ought to be stronger than all this. That I could get on with life. It could be fun. It could still become something that I want. But no. YOU're all I want. Do you even understand the extent and gravity I want you? Do you know the kind of emotions that you have invoked in me, such raw and animalistic emotions that had lay dormant for the last years? I am like a bursting flame, and you, my oxygen and catalyst, my every reason. I feel I could take the whole world down. I could fly, I could do whatever the fuck I want. I could take Donnie down, with just a finger. But I lost that. All of it, when you're all slipped out. When I pushed you away.

I sneaked up behind you last night. Or at least I tried. I don't do very good with works like this, not with the stealth. You didn't see me at all but I saw you all right. That face, that has embedded so deeply in my brain...that forlorn expression you wore, head down. I thought you looked skinnier and my heart hurts at the sight. I wanted to rush towards you, to take you back in. To just walk right up, to hell with principles and what's right, to look into your eyes, just one more time. But it's not time yet. It's not even about me or what I would do or say. It's about you. It's about your life. Do you wanna do it well, or do you wanna fuck it up, like your mom and everyone else think you would? I'm sorry that they couldn't see you shine, like I do every night. They never had that honor and pleasure. They could not change the color of their eyes. But you can. You can change yourself for the better. I've seen you at your best. So forgive me, love. This hurts just as much for me, if not more.

liebe Ich Sie immer und mein Herz gehört nur Ihnen und sonst niemandem

Liebe,
Liesl

25 März 2002

Letters, Strings and All III

Dear Love,
I miss you and the first time I touched you, the first conversation we had in between the rows of shelves, the way I found you dozing off in the couch at the coffee house waiting for me to knock off, the sound of your voice, the way you kiss, the taste of you, the sound you made when you have finally fallen deep into sleep, your heartbeat as I laid and listened each night, faithfully, the way you cried, and the strong front you tried to put up when you're hurting inside...there is so much of you that I crave for right now. Yet we are so apart and I know, that it was me who drew the line, who broke us up but I wish you know it was only for your best, that I did what I did. You know that I love you, that I would forever, and ever and ever do. I could never leave you, not even for a second, let alone days.

I miss the good times we had, how I could always recognize the sound of my bedroom door opening up just slightly for you to peek your head in to check if I was around when everyday, you knew in your heart that you would always find me, just waiting, waiting for you, for us to come together again. There were times I thought I could maybe hide under my bed or something so you wouldn't find me. I wanted to see the worried expression on your face because I know it would be for me and me alone. But I couldn't. I couldn't bear to see you worried or sad, even for fun. I miss the quiet nights in the park where I could lay in your arms and watch the night sky dazzled with stars so far away and you would just be watching me, smiling. As if you would be contented, living just like this forever.

I miss deliberately being a step behind you so I could reach for your outstretched hand when you stopped, the one that would keep me warm for the rest of my life and knowing you had a smile on your face, one with anticipation, reassurance and contentment.

liebe Ich Sie immer und mein Herz gehört nur Ihnen und sonst niemandem
I love you always and my heart belongs to only you and no one else

Liebe,
Liesl
24 März 2002

Letters, Strings and All II

Dear Love,
6th day and I wish my heart would stop counting but just as naturally the heart beats, my heart yearns for your rightful return, to be at my side, to be in my embrace, in our single-sized bed, making out between these cozy, warm sheets and waking Lex up. Do you miss it, all of this, the way I do, even if I'm sitting at the edge of our bed right now, noting the day's journey and my feelings? I wish you were here, with your head plastered with a silly grin and affectionate brown eyes supported by your elbow, lying vertically, just watching my every move and then so absently, reaching out to stroke my hair, pulling a stray strand back behind my ear and then plant a soft kiss on my lips. Have I ever told you how much I love you when you do that? God, this self-control thing...it's beyond me! I have no understanding how anyone could be separated from their loved one for ever so long! How should anyone deal with that kind of loss and pain?

It was another day at work as I woke up without the taste of your strawberry lips in my mouth and my tongue. And I think Lex was trying to tell me about this new colleague at work but my heart was elsewhere. When I finally got to work, Daniel, this irregular guy who turned up out of nowhere, 'bout 17 of age and 5 ft tall, and the classic black rimmed glasses that suddenly is revived that seemed to always be on the tip of his nose, he tried to ask me out, for like the millionth time. Said he wanted to hang out and how he would serenade me with his secondhand guitar and the voice of a childish man. I rejected him of course, as politely as one could being stuck and ambused just outside the ladies by a boy who I'm sure couldn't tell full-grown breasts of a woman to that of a milking cow. OK, was that too harsh? But I could care less. All I could think about all day, was for work to be done with and for you to come to mind. How was your day? How was your heart?

liebe Ich Sie immer und mein Herz gehört nur Ihnen und sonst niemandem
I love you always and my heart belongs to only you and no one else
Liebe,
Liesl
23 März 2002