Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Cut

Cut

Just a fine line or may be more, may be many. Sometime it is unbearable to count the cuts

People do cut.

They cut papers, cut woods... cut to make full use of objects

People do cut

They cut the road, bridge the gap to come nearer to one another. They have to cut, to ease their anxiety. to shorten the time

People do cut

They cut cakes, cut cloths, cut cut cut to share... I give to you a piece of me. WE are on the same boat. Pieces, bits are token of friendship

People do cut

We do cut

We cut each other by all means. I am not talking about the bloody deed of stabbing using death instruments to physically torture human being but yet, I talk about cuts, whereby the defined line we draw between each other becomes clear. Cut of sepearation, cut of hurt using words.



I was cut, by an insane and vulnerable girl who was so helpless. Or rather the act should be described as hurting. I looked at her and what she did to me. She wished this sacrify could make an impact, not seeking attention but provoked thought. I looked at her and pitied the innosence, the good intention, which was wasted. The deafening silence between us is like an open wound. Who is she? Simply me. Of yesterday.




I start to think about cuts so much recentaly. The physical pain is short and compared to the emtional explosion of anger, it seems unremarkable. Open woud can close its mouth. Time does it job dutifully like a routine. Scars are left to remind us the past was real. I learn so much in the past few days, about hurting ourselves or so much more about unintentionally hurting those who actually care.





"Thingking can hurt your chances and I intend to last"

I remember this quote vividly in The Handmaid's Tale. And I remember my mother who told me, "when you hurt yourself, when you fall, when you love the wrong guy and eventually suffer from the relationship, you are putting an invisible cut on yourself. Blood bleed from thses wounds are not much of yours but much of mine." I think a lot of my mother and the way she lives her life. It hurts cuz the greatest gift she gave to me the day I was born was her sensitivity. She feels too much therefore I feel too much, care too much. And sometime, that kills your chances of lasting in this surrounding



So what is that suppose to do with cut?



We accidentally cut a deep line between us by slamming the door on our one another's face. The door is the cut. Now there is no more us, just u and your world. Me and my life.

We cut our friends by words, screaming, shouting, swearing saying things we do not mean to say (and we tend to do it more and more each day)

You cut me by hurting yourself. Crazy huh? What about me? I merely feel your pain. But what if I do? Your physial pain is my emtional defeat. I am helpless, unable to heal you, to stop you from hurting yourself.



My wound heals fast, my skin is thick and bold. But the bruise under it remained. and there is this invisible cut that left a scar on my heart.



You cut yourself hence you cut me. We cut each and every one of us out of the word US.

Where do we go from here?

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Helpless



so I smile
and act alright...

...not the 1st time... nor the last, I am aware
I felt so helpless over what is happening, what is going to happen and what happened to my loved one. I wish I could travel through time... through distance to change things... or even if I can not make a difference, I wish to be there or had been there for them...

My mom was waiting outside the room for her operation this afternoon.
More than hours... on her own. Tired, exhausted, frightened... traumatized by the smell, the sight of the hospital...
And where was I? Singapore, in a nice class room...air condition...

I felt sick... frustrated...I want to know what was happening... where she was
But I can't. Ended up forcing myself to lessons, as usual, acted strong
When Kannan gave me the piece of work... full of words I could not bring myself to read and make sense to all those...letters? He looked at me, sympathized.
My heart was not there.
I dashed out of the classroom to make a call to dad.
Just to know mom was with the German doctor.

I asked myself and felt helpless

... where was I?

when my friend cut herself out of guilt, out of ridiculous crime she did not commit
when my best friend was told she has tumor, 18 years old, all alone in a foreign land
when he decided to leave the world, 19 years old

or just when my BPL needs a listening ear, need a friend, a simple question which show she is loved and cared.

Today when my mother had operation...
Where was I?

Forgive me, I am also all over the places. How I want to be with you but I fail you and I fail myself. I am doing the best I can

so I smile
act alright
when I am traumatized
say "it's gonna be fine"

I don't cry ... I know my mother will soon recover.
Hope she can see me with my new fringe, see me found my inspiration to study and passion for photography again.
I am helpless... I am aware, I am. But if the distance between us can me measured by ruler, if land can connect us to one another. I promise I will never leave your side, maybe not physically but mentally.

I am here
with arms open
I am here
without judgment
I am here
...for u

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Lullaby for mom

sleep tight, will you, I am singing for u...
from a far far away land, I am singing the lullaby of my heart for you

sweet dreams, mother....
May the stars in the sky dim their lights
May darkness come, enveloping you, like a blanket
May the pain sleep... may the torture stop

Dream, mother, dream about us...
Dream about the colorful Hanoi in spring
Dream about the crowded streets during peek hour
Dream about days when you held my tiny hands, crossing the street to school
Mother now I am taking MRT, all on my own
I often overslept and missed the station
Mom, dont stop dreaming...

Please, time, stop for a while
Let my mom's hands rest... stop sewing, stop knitting, stop...
Let my mom's eyes stop searching for my image... I am not coming home any soon
Let my mom fly... in her dreams

Because of her... I forget all reasons to cry
forget anger, forget revenge, forget lies
forget myself

My blood bleeds from her heart,
My tears flows from her eyes
My pain felt by her soul

Sleep, mom
When u wake up, ur pain will be just a nightmare
I am here, singing for u
my lullaby, from my heart, to yours
from my childhood
from my teenage
from every single second, I have you with me, always

...praying for the success of mom's operation