I'm so filled with rage, that my head hurts badly.
They told me how I had changed their lives, how my touch had given them wonderful memories.
I wish I could also tell them the same thing about them.

Am I a bad person because I am not able to be thankful for what I have been given? I just can feel rage, loneliness, sadness, emptiness.

Gravity II

We always want to hold on to something; to have the feeling of being accompanied. Never do we really want to let go of the persons or the things we are attached to. It's already in our nature that we tend to weave threads of relationships; connecting souls; giving us the warm feeling of security out of mutual dependence. Ever since we were just ions, swimming sperms and dangling eggs, embryos in the wombs of our mothers have we been attached to the feeling to need and being needed. When the time comes and forces us to be alone and let go of everything we have been attached to, we would frantically struggle to hold on much tighter than before to everything we have known so dearly. But in the end we all have to learn to let go and to be acquainted with the pain of letting go until someday we would eventually realize that this life is nothing but a lone journey (but is it really?).

"Gravity" from Alfonso and Jonas Cuaron has kept me thinking the whole night. Now it has been almost 12 hours since I had finished watched the movie at the cinema. But I am still so much mesmerized by the striking beauty of not just the cinematography, but also of the philosophy of the story arc of the movie. The sole survivor of the chain catastrophes, Ryan Stone, was just a devastated mother, crippled and broken from the sudden death of her little daughter. Ever since the loss, she had been spending her remaining time driving and doing routines that she was used to do. Life was just an empty road she drove on unthinking, unfeeling; she was on the autopilot mode. Everything was stuck in stagnant movements until she was sent to the outer space to repair the Hubble telescope and was hit by orbiting debris of satellites and space stations.

The movie is about tethers, attachments, gravity that bind. On earth, Ryan Stones held on tightly to the memories of her daughter and felt comforted by it. In space, she was tethered to the space station and later to Matt Kowalsky, her veteran astronaut partner, and felt safe. However, the movie taught us how Ryan was compelled to learn to let go. She was propelled away from the space station without any safety line to keep her in place. Away was she rolling and drifting. The space was vast but she felt claustrophobic, because she just had her room inside her spacesuit. Matt came and tethered her to bring her back to hope of getting away from danger, but soon after, he also had to detach himself from her to save her. She wanted to come for him and save him. But he was no more to be found. So, alone she was, still not wanting to let go and saying, "I had you, I had you...."

Ryan Stone had just a brief moment to intertwine with the life of Matt Kowalsky. However, in that brief moment, Matt had touched her soul so deep, that she was still attached to him even after he was gone. Alone, she tried to call earth on blind, but instead Houston, she got a farmer who didn't speak English on short frequency. The farmer brought earth to her space; warmth to her coldness as he rattled and laughed and sang lullabies to his crying baby and hushed his barking dog. Her teardrops drifted away from her eyes. Just when Ryan had lost hope and put out the lights and shut down the power of her shuttle to succumb to the realm of darkness, Matt came to her as an illusion and again helped her to survive. Again the movie proved us how prone we are to gravity that binds us to every aspect of our lives. It doesn't matter how short an encounter might be, that short moment could pry open our hearts and minds to someone or something we then came to love. We need those attachments to remind us of who and what we are; of how precious they are to us. We need those attachments to be able to stand up and fight for our lives; to realize that no matter how small and insignificant we might feel, life is still worth to defend.

Gravity

The bark of a dog; the crying of a baby; the sound of a man singing a lullaby. Not until we're in the complete desolation of silence that we can really hear those sounds and drink them bit by bit; drenching our souls in their chimes.

The bursting colors of leaves; the crisp coldness of mornings; the soothing grains of sand near the water. Not until we're there, where everything is just pitch blackness, can we spoil our taste buds with those richness of life.

Life. Not until we're about to die do we learn to realize how we love to live and how afraid we are when our time to depart has come.

Prayers. Not until we're in the deepest pit of despair are we willing to learn how to chant them.

Strength. Not until we're forced to be strong do we notice how much of those drops of elixir do we possess in us.

...And when all hope is lost, you suddenly surprise yourself by being able to survive and give yourself the birth of a second chance to embrace gravity and experience earth like never before.

We feel, we hear, we touch, we taste, we cry, we laugh, we speak, we breathe, we live.

Between Stupidity and Determination

Say what you want,
let come what may,
I'm still reaching out for you!

I Never

Haha! Gotcha!!


I never told you to spend your nights restless, eyes open with thoughts woven
I never made you stop going your way and haste back towards yesterday
I never lure you into wringing open your heart, bringing down your guard
And now you're here, enjoy your beer!
(I know how much you despise it)

O,eyes, why can't you stop crying
O,heart, why can't you stop aching?

Silent Song

I wrote you an unfinished song, which I won't be able to sing.

Up is the Moon, Bright are the Stars!

Home Sweet Home

They say, home is where your heart is. I thought I had somewhere I could call home, where I always could take my refuge and feel save and protected, when the world is just way too malicious for me.

It's very funny, when you suddenly have to crush and let go of every dream and aspiration idea you have built from scratch. You have been building them carefully with each breath and step you had taken, that in the process you'd really come to believe that they could have come true. In a way, you even believed that they were your close reality.

So I heard, that home is where your heart is. I thought I have found a place where my heart resides. Somewhere I could always go to, whenever I am in distress; somewhere I would be overjoyed by the abundance of love; somewhere I would always know, that I always could wrap myself up with layers of layers of that warm and fuzzy unconditional love.

It's achingly hilarious, that you just need a weak blow of wind to destroy the castle of cards you have painstakingly built. You'd be very much angered by the destruction, eventhough you have already known deep down, that a palace made of cards is not a real palace, it has no foundation, it can not stay standing tall, it isn't strong. But despite all that knowledge, you would be terribly angry looking at your palace smashed down into just unworthy cards.

Home is where your heart is. Where could I find a haven, where I could place my heart safely without having to be afraid of that gush of wind, that could wreak havoc and force me to crush and let go of all my dreams?

Perhaps home is where my heart was; or will be

Please find me
and
stay with me

The lady of the North

Emerged in colors she goes out of the room.
Her long gown is flowing,
billowing,
blown by the dancing wind
filled with reds, blues, purples and yellows.
With every step she absorbs each hue.
One at a time.

Hear Me Out

I wish I were strong
to lift up this distress
I wish I were strong
to break free from this mess

Your hands are
crushing me

I won't have you in my dreams no more
I won't have you in my words no more
I won't have you in my thoughts no more
I won't have you anymore

The good witch is crying
tears burning their trails
on her red cheeks
"It hurts"
said she

The good witch is crying
over memories of enchanted past
of kisses, dances and promises

Tears are burning trails
on her red cheeks
"Make it stop!"
So she pleads

Forget your sorrow
Forget your pain

Kill your heart
stop the cart

Forgotten will your sorrow be
Forgotten will your pain be

No more pain, no more sorrow
The good witch too
is then no more

-Oz the Great and Powerful-

Feeling the large chunk of emptiness, weeping over the pain of nothingness, repenting for the self made stupidity, but hoping so hard still for that so much wanted salvation: I am what time has carved me into.