Mave’s Neighborhood

She says she’s waiting for dawn

Though she’s never seen daylight

For she keeps her curtains drawn

I never said goodbye...

This blog contains the person I was a life-time ago. The girl who started writing here was one who had never seen a "real" rock concert in her whole entire life. She had never tasted sushi. She didn't live far away from home. She laughed and cried and spent her evenings cycling on dark empty roads. She'd never been kissed.

She believed in silly pointless dreams and remembered every single thing. She had never smoked a cigarette before. And the only alcohol she had ever really had was beer. She had never been drunk. She wrote letters all night. And burned them up before she could read them. She didn't know "Purple Haze" was a song.

Things mattered to her. She could cry once in a while. Sure, she did some silly things and made some horrible mistakes. But we learned from them. We learned from them all. She never remembered her dreams. She listened to Linkin Park all the time. "Drugs" were an umbrella term for mind-wrecking addictive substances that she knew she may try "once".

That girl did all those things she had never done before while she was here. And somewhere in the many pages, I lost her. Actually, I killed her. Slowly. Bit by bit. It was never my intention, but I did it anyway.

She wouldn't have lasted. I killed her to save us all. I had to.

So much has changed. I have changed. And that's why, I have to go.

To all of you out there, thank you for everything. I still find my way back here once in a while to check on you guys. Silently and quietly.
Sato-kun, you write as beautifully as ever! If morbidity could ever be beautiful, that is.
Toyesh-kun, we should talk more. Really.
Pyratic, come back? It's been too long...
Sophia-chan, I'm still with you, laughing with you and smiling when I see words that I can identify with.
Makubex, you've been gone so long. We should catch up sometime.

My new blog id is "http://theverylastdrag.blogspot.com/". You may not recognize me... though the last few posts in this blog were a certain and definite prophecy that has now been fulfilled. And one that I'm sure you shall all appreciate in hindsight.

I've come to say goodbye. I will always be here, and anytime any of you need to get in touch with me, just leave me a message here. I'll read it. And I won't take too long.

To the blog... thank you for being my diary and keeping my soul together. Thank you for listening, for the many realizations that have dawned as I typed here, for the company late at night... And thank you for helping me grow.

"Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now."

Goodbye.

They were two wounded soldiers, fighting a pointless war, out of bullets. Two soldiers talking about nothing at all; unable to ask the other which side he was fighting on, perhaps because they didn’t want to know... or perhaps because it just didn’t matter anymore.

He looked up at her as she pulled out a cigarette from the half empty pack. Half empty. He guessed that made him a pessimist. She closed her eyes as she lit it. He noticed that. That, and the fact that her hair fell about her face in an almost apologetic way while she was lighting it. He said almost because she was too proud to ever be able to look apologetic. Angry? Easily. Annoyed? Definitely. Disappointed? Yes. Sad? Sometimes…. But apologetic? It just wasn’t possible.

She took a long drag and opened her eyes. Kohl filled dark eyes that always seemed like they meant to say something more but didn’t know how to. Or at least that’s how she imagined them to look. A conversation from a lifetime ago floated through her head along with the strains from the music at the bar.

“You have creepy eyes.”

“Creepy? Thanks! What the hell is that supposed to mean anyway?”

“Err… I didn’t mean it like that… It’s just… well, they’re too blank. I can never tell what you’re feeling”

Water.

Cold water.

She always thought that her eyes were what betrayed her. Years of practice had taught her how to hold that mask in place. Blank and smooth, like nothingness itself. It was the best weapon disguised as a perfect shield. In reality, it couldn’t stop anything. Definitely not pain. But it was proud. And it made the opponent determined to break you. And so, the words got crueller and the blows harder, but as long as you didn’t flinch, you won. It wasn’t exactly a fun game, but it captivated her.

Her eyes were always what gave her away. She could hold back any emotion, but her eyes reflected what she felt. Even the slightest hurt would make them widen, kind words would make them quiver and sometimes they would soften. Luckily, most people couldn’t read her eyes… but she still felt betrayed… and a little reassured. She did not like losing control… but she liked knowing something about her was still natural. Still… human.

And he had said her eyes were blank…

She looked at the man across the table. She couldn’t exactly place the look he had on his face, which bothered her. She was good at reading people. Really good… but when it came to him, it frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. She sighed and took another drag from her burning cigarette, watching as he lit one of his own.

He wondered what he should say now. She looked like she was waiting for him to say or do something. It was like playing a game of poker and suddenly realizing it was your turn… except the difference was he really had no idea what game he was supposed to be playing right now, and that just made things a lot harder.

He asked her what she wanted to drink and they both ordered their shots. Brandy for him because his throat still hurt. She asked for a Whiskey. Straight. And he couldn’t help nor explain the smile that flitted across his face.

She looked down into her drink with the saddest eyes he had ever seen on anyone. When he called her name, she looked up at him and smiled. And the question he had been planning to ask seemed pointless. Of course she was okay. Didn’t she look like she was okay? A perfect defence he didn’t know how to cross. And so, he let it be, shaking his head as she looked up at him curiously.

She smiled at him, and the confused look on his face made her giggle, which confused him even further, but he laughed anyway. She didn’t laugh like this very much. And it made him oddly happy to know that he was the reason. He didn’t know why and he continued to bug her about inconsequentialities. She didn’t mind. He knew that. He could tell. Even if her eyes were hollow, they seemed to shine when she argued with him, and he liked that.

She asked him a question. He started telling her about the answer. And both of them skirted past the things they really wanted to talk about. Needed to talk about. Why did he keep disappearing? Why did she never ask him where he’d been?

They couldn’t be on opposite sides, he thought. She was too much like him. And yet, with her blank eyes and distant smile, he couldn’t even tell if she was fighting the same war… and he didn’t know how to ask. But he really didn’t think it mattered very much. At least, he thought as she laughed again and pretended to throw the glass at him as her eyes shone, not anymore…

I'll cry with you if I have to
I'll try and make you laugh
I'll stand by you if you feel alone
I'll be your company
I'll sit with you when you want to cry
I'll try and convince you that your life is worth living

But if you want sympathy, go somewhere else.

Don't expect me to feel sorry for you
Don't expect me to try and snatch that rope away from your hands
Don't expect me to cry because you think you can't "be strong anymore"
Don't expect me to beg you to stop hurting yourself in the ways I do to myself just so you can make a trade

I hate you when you get like this

You want to kill yourself?
You want to hurt?
You want to torture your own mind?
Lie to yourself?
Cry yourself to sleep?
Cling on?

Fine.
Go ahead and fucking do it.
Don't tell me your grand plans.

You want to die?
Then don't give me the gun to keep.
I want NO part in this.
Just leave me alone.
I need no more nightmares.

You are weak and pathetic.
And you fall further in my eyes every single day

The joker was right
Even the best of us fall
Well, you know what I've realized?
I never liked the best amongst us much anyway.

Everyone leaves.

Another one joins the ranks...

Will things be different this time?

I'd like to believe so...

I dunno anymore.

Maybe... Maybe not...

Too early to tell.

I grew up again today...

Not like the time I was on shrooms... but you know...

I grew up, as in, I did... I learned so many things about myself. And I figured out that I was a cold person. Maybe not calculating, but hopefully that's not jus' the wine talking!

I read the sandman's "Dream Hunters" series today! It was good... I dunno anymore dude...

What IS important? Explain to me...

Look... I'm not out looking for god. Nor am I looking for some higher spiritual force to lead me... But what is stopping some random -

Oh wait. mave is calling!

Later!!!

That's all.

That's all it comes down to...

What can I say?
At the end of the day... no matter what I smoke and who I hang out with...

I am still a girl.

Gah!!!

But still... wouldn't have it any other way!

No.
Really.

In my head, it is all the same.
I can;t type properly, because it is cold... and I won;t stop shivering,,,

I could close the windows... but then the net will not work... and I'm cold enough tonight...

Who am I?

Why does this bother me so much?

I'm not an alcoholic.

Really!!!

But I'm cold... alone... and just a person on my own...

How does it matter where I'm from?

I'm afraid... coz I dunno what to say...

You were suppose to save me!
Why now?

Why?

She stumbled out of her room and to the sink. Splashing cold water on to her face, she looked up, big dull eyes looking into the hazy mirror. Fuck. She thought. I look as miserable as I feel. She giggled a little at that. Couldn't help it. At that moment, her phone buzzed. A message from her friends. Dinner outside or at the canteen? Eventually, she decided to go out. She had to get a drink anyway.

Luckily, her friends too wanted some alcohol. The three of them made their way to the shop at the end of the end of the road. Three quarts of some cheap old rum, some smokes and a mixer and they were set. Making their way back to the college slowly, they decided to sit at their local smoking spot (right outside college) and drink there. It was good. Felt calm.

Later on phone calls would come. Explanations would be asked for. Some would be given, some would be avoided and some would be ignored. But, for now, everything was cool. And all they had to do was not worry...and be happy...

Alcoholic? We're not alcoholic!