How I wish,

how I wish you were here.

You whom I have gone through so much with, where art thou at this very darkest hour of the night? The blue sky is falling apart, a crimson wound can be seen and I am trembling while drowning in a purple sea of thoughts, and where art thou? The infinite support, the feeling of blood rushing out of my heart, the chill down my spine when our fingertips join, where art thou? The carefree, spontaneous and playful one, where art thou? When have you slid away so slowly and smoothly from my head, like a handful of sand slips through between my fingers? Have you left me standing alone in this colourless suffocating storm of reality? Has it scared you away? I thought we have sworn, sworn to stand strong together and hang on to each other no matter how strong the storm is going to be. Or was that me, have I locked myself out of our blue, misty paradise without even noticing, was I the one who left you alone? O sweet fairies and fiery spirits, guide me to the one whom I have deserted mistakenly. Show me the way to the very asylum I have created for myself, show me the way to myself!

I have always enjoyed uncertainty and the surprise outcomes it brings to issues. Except two things. Except the two very most important things in my life. Everything can go wrong, everything can go off track, everything can go miles away from plan, but not those two. One has come to a tragic outcome as it should never have been, there was still a glimmer of hope for uncertainty to mend the hole it has punched on the wall, but another untimely blow seems to have sealed the fate, and caused the happening of something which should never, ever happen. The other is yet to be known, but soon the flow of time will wash away the toxic mist that I could not wave away. A is really for accident. After the first heart-tearing accident which was indeed partly my own mischief, there really is no more space for uncertainty nor wrong steps, not even half an inch, not anymore. There is no way for a person to live when both sides of his brain is damaged to a state that it is never going to heal, no matter by himself, by accident or by the trickster goddess of fate.

With half a brain I have been trying to hang on, trying not to hit the ground. But as I fat myself with exhaustion caused by lenghty periods of time chasing my yet faster flying dream and repelling the yet stronger trample of reality, feathers on one wing start falling off, muscles on the other is suffering from a unbearable burn of the inferno within while trying to fight gravity. There were times that the dead half showed signs of life from time to time, with believe and hope as the only fuel, trying to escape from the grasp of Hades. But hell, the fuel seems to be running out and husband of Persephone is still running fast. There is no way one could survive with a brain completely dead. May I meet the most skillful pair of healing hands and there will be nothing that can be done.

The most spontaneous of all, the trickster goddess, the one goddess whom I have truly loved, if you have already started on the remaining half of the poor thought-machine your spontaneous practical joke, I dare you to speed up the painful process and burn away my last glimmer of hope like fire consumes gun powder. Why does someone who has always been faithful to your beliefs and acts deserve such an unfair punishment? But if the second wicked act of yours is still only a thought and is yet to be performed, even as an insignificant mortal I command you to demolish the evil plan, for by the time I rise upon the clouds, with all my wrath ye shall be shredded into a thousand pieces, your locks will become my helmet, your guts will be my feast and your skin will make my new armour.

Ye be warned.

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Alright, it is indeed a rant about how much I am worring about losing the one last thing that I can still have a chance to hold on to. I don't want to fuck up my audition to the theatre program in SFU. Simple as that.