RAIN

Sometimes it feels no one understands
I don't even know why
I do the things I do

When pride builds me up
Till I can't see my soul
Will you break down these walls
And call me through...

i was multi-tasking, as usual.

helping an old friend of mine duplicate the contents of a cassette tape, as well as laying down and getting ready for rest.

and because cassette tapes are such old technology now, duplicating it means listening to it as well.

for the past week, this guy has been gently prodding me to get it dubbed for him quick, because he says "it means a lot to him" and he was a little paranoid i'll screw up his tapes.

i was getting slightly irritated...until i heard its contents.

if i wasn't so fatigued and numbed, i would probably have teared.

it was a musical diary he submitted to a local, chinese radio station.

he had written about his sister, who passed on more than a year back.

however touching the entire piece was, the part that really got to me was when he wrote:

"i had to write this as a third person, because it's less painful than relating it from my point of view."

i wonder if pain would cease over time.

and if it wouldn't, why do we all need our own time to get over things?

for the longest time, whenever i discuss a certain topic, i'd feel that tinge of sadness creeping up my belly, up into my chest cavity, then slowly up into my nose and my eyes.

i'd be lucky if i were able to stop it there.

would time and a pseudo-reality of space allow you more room to think?

people would argue that space is subjective, and if you condition yourself the right way, you can always have "space".

but how about space, literally?

having your own physical space, being thrown in the middle of nowhere alone...wouldn't it be a form of conditioning as well?

and if you had THAT space, you'd have no other means than to work within THAT space.

when that happens, you'd be placed in a new plane of reality altogether, and you can, then, think differently.

i shall be passing my friend his tapes on wednesday, when i meet him briefly, at work.

come wednesday, i will offer him a warm smile and a friendly handshake.

somehow, i know that'll be enough. for then.

sometimes, words just won't cut it.

when the time comes for us to feel too awkward to speak, please...

just offer me a smile and a handshake.

and when i turn to walk away after our meeting, let me walk.

for even as i tear...i shall feel a certain relief.

thank you for being that silent presence by me when i needed you.

thank you, really.