Neko

sometimes.. its hard to think about a loved one’s departure.

sometimes.. its hard to think about a loved one’s departure. And now that my dad is off to the land of uncle sam (pff! not my uncle tho).. and All Souls’ Day is around the corner ~ it’s also the season of visiting relatives/friends that have crossed unto the other side.. and yeah counting those Decembers of laments.. these last two months of the year always always bring me down. A reson why last year i faced my fears by actually starting to write about it. hmm… hence gave birth to my Twisted Blog. Now, inevitably turned into a refuge of illustrations, poetry, dreams and my melancholic side..

But lets just say the real “twisted thoughts” are found here in Dry the Rain blog. Just look at how i jump from one emotion to the other.

Yesterday, out of curiosity, i went to the blog of the one who first encouraged me to write. After almost a year of not visiting it, sadly, i discovered, he has disabled it. And i was wondering why.. is it because of me? For whatever reason, the more i got curious. Be that i cant sleep anyway, and have nobody to talk to (online) ..i googled his url up. and it showed.. in Cache. So there, his last posts were written in a language he knew i didnt understand. But i guess he knew too, that i will be able to decipher. Too bad i cant view the comments anymore. Was curious on the 6-commented post.

The only english lines found on the last entry was…

   «When the night wind cries
   on the Bloodred feathers
   Containers groan
   As they come together
   And the loaded roadsigns
   They point to never
   Don’t let it sleep. Don’ t let it fall asleep».

… So came BabelFish translator. And i read a chappy english version… but i understood. Or think i did.

My first entry was somehow the topic of his prose, one of his last post. And the final entry’s translation came..

Marx said that the right scientific thought is moved from abstract in concrete and analyzes the social relations as a complicated composition of multiple determinations… The writer usually writes for his muse, for a concrete person… When these texts they are published I consider that it suffers a process of “alienation” (reification). It ceases is in effect the special relation of writer with the muse. The text loses his previous attributes. The movement therefore is from concrete to abstract….

So looking at the date of this post, i scanned my entries of the same time. What could he have read here? i think i know. if he was affected in any way, it was not my intention. As we both drifted further from each other, the hurt of his last statements to me, I learned that it was all a game to him. So i taught myself to forget. As i have been teaching myself that for several years. But then again, no one really knows whats goin on in other people’s heads.

And so, i read the prose entry again. Now, slowly. It was a sad story. Made me think… Of how life ends without someone beside you. How even in success we find failure. How even in found love, we feel alone. How in loneliness we crave for an embrace. And how we all eventually die alone.

No more tears this time. But i hope he finds the one he is looking for. I hope he ends up happy on the last days (or years) of his life. He was never satisfied, as satisfaction is but a mere word for a lost soul searching.

So this All Souls Day, let me light a candle not only for the dead, but also for lost souls.. for we have all departed from the world we live in but reject.