Special Delivery of Pain

It was a visibly cloudy afternoon when I pulled the car into the parking lot. I still had 15 minutes to spare before I was needed inside. John Mayer was singing Gravity on the radio and I wanted the song to finish before I stepped out of the car. So I sat there quietly, listening.

"...gravity wants to bring me down."

Through the windshield, I looked at the park in front of me right across the pavement and behind the short fence. A few really little kids were playing – jumping up and down the swings. They seemed about 3 or 4 years old. They were cute. The two boys were obviously teasing a little girl who seemed quite pissed off at them. I smiled at them but couldn’t help and remember my own time. It seemed like just a few years ago I was jumping up and down the slides, and the see-saws and racing with friends on the swings determined to go higher than them. Those were the days when the headaches wouldn’t hold me back, and the nightmares wouldn't keep me up at night. But somehow these memories of playing in the park are vague. I remember the time but I cannot pin point specific incidents in the parks, neither can I remember exactly what games we played.

I do, however, remember all the abuses on the uneventful nights and all the wrong things said and done. All the times I was locked in the dark attic and all the obnoxious arguments we had are quite clear in my head. I remember each bruise and each curse word as if it happened just yesterday. I could feel each breath and every sob.

It’s amazing how the bad memories stick so much longer than the good ones would – how conveniently, the shadows keep us from the light, and how nightmares keep us awake at night, while the good moments, the few good that we have, just slide away. And we let them.... or do we?

“…oh gravity, stay the hell away from me.”

A Bench

 

I have a certain fascination with benches. They are the lonely places found almost everywhere yet never appreciated - only used and left alone - a place where you can expect to sit for a moment, catching your breath, and then moving on. These benches, we are never loyal to them, but they are always loyal to us - allowing us to make memories, finding us around the bend of the road or in the middle of the park, or just outside the building in solitude to allow us to think, to talk, to kiss, and sometimes to cry.

 

Life is Funny (23)

Real life incidents and quotes from the lovely people who are a part of my life :-)

"I am sorry, I cant understand you, I am an ignorant American."
-Megan, On east Asian cities names
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"If you took this to your eighth grade English teacher, there'd be so much red ink on it you'd think she'd cut her wrists."
-Biology Professor, on the written part of the bio lab
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"Do not lick that, or put it in your mouth...."
- regarding an electrical cord

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Chris: You know for 350 degrees this oven isn't very hot...
Raaji: That would be because you just opened the microwave.
-on wrong applications
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Please, please do this for me. I'll pay you in baked goods, cds, or other.
-Emily, the art of begging
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Today's topic is statistical inferences and since this is a political science seminar, I don't expect you to know statistics so today's class is going to be a lot about trust-me-on-this-one.
-Political Science Professor, on public opinion statistics
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Abruptly coming to a stop while running down the hallway,
Raaji: Oh,  I'm not supposed to run with scissors...darn it!
-no really, I am not allowed, I can be dangerous
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Overheard in Political Science Class,
Random guy: That test was really hard.
His friend: Yeah, I had a hard time reading what the Asian chick in front of me was writing.
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For more, click on the "Funny Quotes" tab in the menu bar above.

The Red Darkness

I slowly drag the blade across each of my wrists and watch the blood pour from my already pale body onto the floor.

I fall back onto the red sheets on the bed and that black rose I was clutching falls to the floor. The black dress I am wearing conveniently absorbs the blood pouring from me. I turn a whiter shade of pale.

Two tears fall from my eyes and make their way down my body until they reach the rose. The tears connect with the rose and it momentarily changes from black to red, then wilts back to black, for the last time.

I close my eyes as if I am asleep. It seems as if my wounds are healing and the blood is disappearing when in reality it is only the black that is hiding it.

As darkness approaches, I make believe that every star is twinkling and shining in my direction. The full moon is settling outside my window, and illuminating my whole body. I imagine the drops of blood turning to ruby; tears turning to crystal...

The fire still burns deep inside my heart, although everything around me is now dark.

Love The Way You Lie

"Just gonna stand there and watch me burn...But that's alright because I like the way it hurts...," the radio sang and so did I. It was almost dark and we were driving out of the city to go back to the house.

The little one, sitting next to me in the passenger seat, looked at me for a moment and then turned to go back to looking out the window.

"Just gonna stand there and hear me cry but that's alright because I love the way you lie...," the radio continued and I turned the volume up.

She looked at me again. This time she sighed audibly before turning back towards the window again.

Eminem started rapping, and I lost myself somewhere in the beat.

"Why do you like sad songs?" her voice brought me back.

"It's not really a sad song," I replied while turning the volume down.

"Of course it is, the woman is talking about burning herself, what more do you want?" she asked seriously.

I chuckled at her response.

"I am serious, why do you like such depressing songs?" she asked again.

"This one, has deep lyrics, so it attracts me," I responded vaguely.

"What deep lyrics... the guy is a jerk to her and she loves him for that?"

"She doesn't love him for that, but she loves him despite that," I replied.

"But it doesn't make sense," she replied with a confused expression on her face.

I looked at her from the back of my eye and said, "I hope this never makes sense to you, my dear."

I sighed, knowing fully how much the understanding makes my heart hurt. But my sigh was drowned somewhere in the music.